The New Ultimate DC RPG

[Andy C.]

[EDIT: Retconning out of continuity because I am a moron. I suggest Mr. Majestic and MST do the same, and then I'll try again with something different]
​

 

[Andy C.]

[Edit: Double-post]

 

[Trigger]

MISTER MIRACLE​

The next few days after his outburst, Scott found himself grappling with fear and anxiety. He had felt very sure of himself when he was loudly criticizing Desaad, but in the following days his confidence had wilted. Desaad and his new staff didn’t make any moves in the past four days and that left everyone very worried. Were their twisted new masters thinking of an especially cruel task to set Scott on? Or were they more concerned with testing the whole group? The sheer amount of waiting had left Scott practically paralyzed.
Of course, Scott had tried preparing for his eventual test, but each attempt felt utterly futile in the face of an unknown challenge. Scott read and reread every manual he had on practical first aid techniques, but he couldn’t be sure on what types of dangers he’d be exposed to on Desaad’s task. He was sure that he’d have an encounter with Desaad’s parademons , so Scott spent most of his days trying to stay in peak physical condition. Scott spent hours doing basic drills, but what he really needed was to spar with another person and perfect his hand-to-hand skills. ]

Unfortunately he couldn’t find a partner in his current dorm mates. His outburst had reduced Scott to a pariah amongst his peers. No one slept in the bunks near his bed. No one looked him in the eye at lunch, and no one spoke to him when he was alone with them. It seemed as if everyone believed that showing any outward signs of friendship to Scott was akin to asking for a death sentence.

Still, Scott was desperate for some form of human interaction so he decided to reach out to Kanto; one of the few people that still looked Scott in the eye. He chose to make his move during the late hours of the day when most of his peers would have slinked off to bed. Kanto was in his usual spot of the dormitory’s living room reading his copy of War & Peace. Scott pretended to read a book while most of his dorm mates had been awake. Now that they were gone, the pretense of holding a book in his lap and pretending to read it felt useless. He carefully laid it aside and strode over to Kanto. Kanto didn’t make any sudden movements, but Scott was sure that his presence had been noticed.

“Um, Kanto…?”

Kanto continued to carefully thumb through his book. His movements were as composed and meticulous as ever. He breathed his reply more than he spoke it.

“Yes, Scott? What is it?”

“I’ve been practicing for Desaad’s task. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to be unprepared. I was hoping-”

“-that I’d spar with you?”

“How’d you know?”

“You’ve been practicing since that day. Everyone’s noticed it.”
Scott rolled his eyes, “Everyone has noticed it, but no one wants to help, huh?”

“They’re afraid. They all saw the same massacre that we saw. Could you blame them for not being enthusiastic about the “tests” that Desaad’s been cooking up?”

“I-I suppose I couldn’t, but I wasn’t trained to be slaughtered like cattle! If I can beat this test, then maybe I could find a way out.”

Kanto closed his book and looked up at Scott meaningfully. His hard, rigid features tightened as he studied Scott’s face.

“How?”

“I-I’m not sure. It was just a thought.”

“You’ll need more than thoughts if you want to escape from here or beat Desaad. You have no way of escaping from here, nor do you have any place to go to if you did escape. Hell, do you even know where “here” is? You’d have to be very prepared if you wanted to escape out of here in one piece.”

“You sound like you’ve put more thought into this then I have.”

Kanto’s features tightened some more before a relaxed smile crept across his face. He set his treasured book aside and stood up.

“Well, I can’t say that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind. However it won’t be easy to escape from here. In theory, a person would have to be at the top of his game to pull that off.”

“Heh, well theories were never my strong suit. I’m much more suited for doing not thinking.”

“Agreed. So, why don’t we get try sprucing up those hand-to-hand skills of yours?”

Scott sighed in relief and nodded. He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait for his first test from Desaad, but having Kanto as an ally certainly lessened his burden.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

Mr. Majestic​

I’m spending countless hours in front of this computer I have not even come close to a shred of evidence linking Lex Luthor to all off these past transgression I have heard about him. To be honest I’m not surprise that nothing was connected him. Mr. Luthor doesn’t seem like a man that leaves a paper trail. Or maybe he does and I’m not looking in the right places.

I laugh at myself because of my inanity, thinking I was going to bring this man down in one day’s time. This is the second time this human has out wit me. It is obvious that I’m thinking too much about this and must clear my mind and look at this from a new point of view. Trying to bring him down on his past crimes is no longer an option it must be something current.

Before I can start on this I must take a break and approach this fresh. As much as it would satisfy me to return back to my original base I can not. It is safe to assume that Luthor is keeping a close eye so till I’m done with him that place is off limits. But if I can’t go there then where shall I spend my time?

It has been some time since I have stood at this front door in my normal street attire with a suitcase in hand. I lift my hand up to knock but before my hand can graze the wooden door it is swung open with a little boy standing beside it looking up at me.

“Jim you came back...” He shouts with joy as he runs up to me and hugs me.

“…mom and her friend said that you weren’t going to come back.”

I look down at him and reply to his comment by saying. “They were right, only reason I have return is because you and your mother will be useful to my plans.”

He looks into my eyes confused by what I have just told him and he should be baffled. I must remember that I’m not Lord Majestrate around him and his mother I am Jim Mcarest.

“I am only kidding with you Elijah of course I was going to come back.” I say with a tone that wouldn’t be believe by someone over the age of 18.

“I knew it!” He yells as he grabs me by the hand and pulls me in the house leading the way.

Once in the house I close the door behind us as he lets go of my hand and runs into the kitchen to his mother.

“Mom…mom he’s back he came back like I said.” Elijah states.

His mother walks from around the corner with a plate in her hand drying it not noticing me at the door.

“Who’s back son?” She asks.

He grabs her and points in my direction. “Jim is.”

I and she then lock eyes and by her face expression it is a bit hard for me to read how she is feeling towards my arrival.

“I guess you got my message from Jessica then?” She stops drying the plate and walk back into the kitchen. She continue to speak as if I’m her fallen husband. A great man from what I was told by her. He was a firefighter who died in the line of duty, an honorable death.

I then walk in the kitchen to join her. As I look at her continuing to do her chores I’m reminded by the reason why I decided not to return here. She has to much going on in her life after her husband passed and she acts at times like I’m him, both her and her son. These are human tribulations I can live without.

“I have been very busy but it now appears that I have a new line of work and shall be here much more.”

She continues what she is doing as if she is not in the presence of a Kherubim Lord. But then again she doesn’t know about my true identity, I really do dislike this planet.

“So are you sure you are not going to just leave out of the blue like before and don’t return for 3 months? You are aware that there was stipulation for you to rent out the room and you haven’t been keeping up with the maintenance around the house. If you don’t want to rent out the room any longer please let me know so I can find someone who does.”

“Ellen you have my word that I shall not disappear as I once did. But if I happen to leave out of the blue as you put it I will return.” Because I can no longer go my to home this will have to do. “But I have a important matter to attend.”

I then reach in my pocket opposite from the one with the com-link and pull out some cash. "This is for the last three months and the next 6 months.”


I place the money on the table and quickly turn around and head to my old room.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"Yeah, sure." I tell her confidently. "I can do that."

She nods and I rush off up the stairs, heading for the next floor. Good lie, Barb, I think with conviction. Being stealthy isn't necessarily something I'd consider myself 'good at'. Then again, I don't really have a plan either. So, hey, at least I'm par for the course.

Reaching the top of the stairs, I find myself in the dim hallway. As I look down the way, I see bright lights coming from the second room on the left. There they are, just as Atom said. Now, to get them to come out...

As I think, I begin to formulate a plan. There's four other empty rooms here, then the stair case to the roof and the staircase to the basement. Gotta be careful, though. If they get a whiff of anything suspicious, they may start killin' the civlians. Okay, I think to myself. I think I've got it.

Looking above, I see the long row of lights linning the ceiling. I'll bet I can take those out quietly. Carefully, I remove the taser from my belt, arming it as I line up my shot. Aiming the red laser sight at the light's, I gulp a thick lump of spit nervously down my throat. If it works, the lights spark and burn out like a short, possibly causing the electricity in the whole place to short like a blown fuse. If it doesn't, I electrocute myself. Let's hope luck is on my side.

With the twinge of a finger, I fire two cables from the mouth of the taser into the light. Glass shatters as the spikes drill into the bulb, cracking the protective bubble around the copper wires. Electricity streams through the cables in a dazzling blue glow, sending tremendous volts into the circuitry. The lights spark and flicker, the sound of loud pops filling the hall as the other lights in the circuit suddenly blow. I close my eyes as I am covered in a shower of sparks, the hot flaming pieces of metal burning my skin for only a second before bouncing off of my body to the ground.

Still gritting my teeth, I expect the deadly shock to run through my bones. To my surprise, I feel nothing. Not pain, not anything. The lights in the hall finally go dark, filling the hall in a black void. I laugh quietly to myself, relieving the stressful panic that fills my body."I'm alive," I whisper as I detach the cables from the taser. "That's a plus." Falling back into a dark corner to hide, I stow the taser back into the pouch on my belt. I only had one charge on that, I hope it was worth it.

As I feel around my waist, I grab the two collapsable batons dangling from the yellow band. I thrust them downward and they extend, opening into the long sticks of hard metal. I hear the ruckus down the hall in the room begin as the men start arguing to one another.

"What was that?" One says in rage.
"**** if I know, boss."
"Sounded like a power surge."
"Could be the cops ****** wit' us."
"Well ... Go check it out, ****head. NOW."
"Yeah, boss. Ricky, with me."

As I see the faint shadows of the men step out into the hallway, I feel my heart pounding harder than I've ever felt it before in my life. I'm surprised it doesn't explode. My fingers grip the batons tightly as I lie in wait, hoping I can get lucky more than once tonight.

"Alright, Atom." I say under my breath. "I hope that was good enough..."

The Atom watches as the ligths flicker on and off until finally the building is almost pitch black.

Not a bad diversion. Just need to move fast chances are likely that the cops are going to move in fast. Which means I need to move faster.

The Atom slides in her night-vision lenses and floats into the room. She finds Killer Moth nervously darting around the room checking each window.

This guy is more nervous than a 13 year old on a first date meaning he is going to be easily spooked. Just need to get the detenator let the cops do the rest.
She spots the detonator.

Bingo time to get to work.

The Atom shrinks down to almost microscopic size and floats into the detenator.

Okay now just need to remember my basic electronics course.

She begins looking at the various wires and then she hears Moth yell,""All-right you S-O-B's if I don't have a car out front in 30 seconds I start sending hostages out in peices."

Great! No pressure...hope this works.

The Atom pulls with all her might wire. Suddenly the inside of the detonator fills with light made all the more painful by with The Atom's night vision lenses.

"AHHHH!" She screams.

Moth pulls out the device and begins while frantically pressing buttons. He yells, ""F*** it's BROKEN! THE DAMN THING IS SHORTED OUT!"

He throws the device across the room. The Atom feels it take flight.

Still unable to see she knows what is happening.

In about 5 seconds I am going to be a splat on the wall unless I can...

The Atom shifts her weight and she feels the device begin to plummet.

Now to get my way out.

She feels the wind in an opening and floats out just as the device breaks open.

The Atom grows to about 1 inch. She staggers around and finally is able to see shapes. She hides underneath an easy chair.

I got to get out of sight at this size and with my sight not being all there. It could get ugly.

Just then the Police storm the house.

Moth yells, "CLEAR OUT!"

The rumbling of the floor throws her off her feet.

I hope Batgirl is having my fun than me....I think I'm about to get sick.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Lex Luthor

Progress has been made, naturally...but not as much as I would like. LexCorp has been flooding the market with Blue-powered devices, but what with the state of the larger economy, consumer confidence is low and thus the general public is less likely to spend money on appliances and energy that they already have. Fortunately, three members of my Society are also high-ranking US Senators, and they're currently working on sneaking a 'Blue jobs' mandate into the next big stimulus bill. That's how authority works in the modern world--if you don't convince people that you're right, force them to agree with you by making it too expensive and complicated to disagree.

This bogging down of the initial steps could prove to sandbag the entire Manhattan Project if the remaining steps are not accelerated. And to that end, I have put a great deal of attention into the remaining pieces, almost all set in place already, and the rest to follow in short order.

My contacts in China and Russia have established influential footholds in a substantial number of both nations' missile command centers. A subroutine has already been embedded in the computer tracking systems at NORAD, to ensure that Cheyenne Mountain goes dark the very instant I say so. A majority of the masterpieces stored in the Louvre and the British Museum have been replaced with facsimiles and stored for safe-keeping on the one piece of LexCorp property guaranteed to be 100% unaffected by the coming change.

Very soon, I'll be able to sculpt the future of my people. As long as he is out of the picture.

My personal HUD informs me that Superman is currently in the midst of fighting some sort of sludge monster. I suppose this would be as good a time as any to tap my latest resource.

"Majestic," I say into my wireless, "it's time to begin our little show. Superman is confronting a monster in the heart of my city, and I want you on the scene. Your mission is primarily one of image-building this time--work crowd control, evacuate the surrounding area, try and save as many innocent bystanders as possible. Make yourself look like a hero, and make Superman look like a reckless brawler by comparison. If you get the opportunity, get that blood sample for me, but do not directly engage him."

I sit down in front of the wall of televisions in my private study, and watch as slowly but surely all of the news networks begin covering the same events.

As always, all eyes are on Superman.
​

Doris enters the study and sees Lex.

She stands directly behind him. He sees her and does a polite nod.

Doris says, "Lexcorp surveilence equipment both audio and visual online and ready to record once Majestic is within 2 blocks of the battle. Heat signature scanners operational as well ."

Lex nods again as Doris hand him a drink. He takes it and begins to sip it.

Doris says, "I haven't seen you this involved and focused in anything like this since Superman arrived. Do you think Majestic can do the job?"

 

[Saved]

My fingers dance nervously about the grip of the batons as I hold them tightly. The two figures grow closer to dark corner where I stand, searching for anything or anyone. My heart beats so loud I almost expect them to hear it - to find me here and shoot me dead. Man, this may have been a poorly thought out plan.

"Hey," one of them suddenly says, perking up as if he's onto something.
"What?"
"You hear that?"
"Hear what?"

Without warning, the front door suddenly bursts open. "Gotham Police! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" I watch as blue uniforms flood into the building, guns drawn, ready to fire. The two thugs turn to see the source of the commotion, spinning around fast as they draw their guns. I watch as they raise their arms, preparing to fire on the officers. "No... not today," I blurt out, surprising myself at my lack of subltey.

As one of the thugs hears me, he looks over his shoulder in confusion. "What the-" before he can finish his thought, I act - moving with instinct and without thought. I leap forward from the darkness, my arms raised above my head high. As I grit my teeth, I swing my hands down and smack the thick baton on the back of the thugs' necks. They let out a small yelp before they lose consciousness and drop to the floor like rag dolls. As I stand over their bodies, I breathe heavily, taking a second to get myself together.

"Okay," I say, looking up to the front door. I see the police continue to raid the complex; the police have hard grimmaces on their face, stern eyes that show their determination and irritation. "Alright, I think they've got it from here." I say, collapsing the batons and holstering them on my belt. I rush down the hall to the basement staircase, rushing to the underground room for the only escape I know the police aren't guarding. "I need to hurry," I explain, talking only to myself. Maybe its for comfort, or maybe it's because I'm losing my mind. I must be to think this was a good idea.

"The police will have this place locked up tight in minutes. I can only hope Atom goes undetected long enough to bail, herself. Then again, I don't think the cops are looking for a six inch tall female in spandex."

"Unless they're kinky, or something. Who am I to judge, right?"

 

[MST3K 4ever]

My fingers dance nervously about the grip of the batons as I hold them tightly. The two figures grow closer to dark corner where I stand, searching for anything or anyone. My heart beats so loud I almost expect them to hear it - to find me here and shoot me dead. Man, this may have been a poorly thought out plan.

"Hey," one of them suddenly says, perking up as if he's onto something.
"What?"
"You hear that?"
"Hear what?"

Without warning, the front door suddenly bursts open. "Gotham Police! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" I watch as blue uniforms flood into the building, guns drawn, ready to fire. The two thugs turn to see the source of the commotion, spinning around fast as they draw their guns. I watch as they raise their arms, preparing to fire on the officers. "No... not today," I blurt out, surprising myself at my lack of subltey.

As one of the thugs hears me, he looks over his shoulder in confusion. "What the-" before he can finish his thought, I act - moving with instinct and without thought. I leap forward from the darkness, my arms raised above my head high. As I grit my teeth, I swing my hands down and smack the thick baton on the back of the thugs' necks. They let out a small yelp before they lose consciousness and drop to the floor like rag dolls. As I stand over their bodies, I breathe heavily, taking a second to get myself together.

"Okay," I say, looking up to the front door. I see the police continue to raid the complex; the police have hard grimmaces on their face, stern eyes that show their determination and irritation. "Alright, I think they've got it from here." I say, collapsing the batons and holstering them on my belt. I rush down the hall to the basement staircase, rushing to the underground room for the only escape I know the police aren't guarding. "I need to hurry," I explain, talking only to myself. Maybe its for comfort, or maybe it's because I'm losing my mind. I must be to think this was a good idea.

"The police will have this place locked up tight in minutes. I can only hope Atom goes undetected long enough to bail, herself. Then again, I don't think the cops are looking for a six inch tall female in spandex."

"Unless they're kinky, or something. Who am I to judge, right?"

The Atom shakes her head a couple more times until finally she has a grasp on reality.

Okay the hostages are safe and I haven't heard the Police yell anything about a masked vigilante dressed like a bat...I think things are semi-safe again.
She looks out from under the chair and doesn't see anyone noticing her.

If I'm Batgirl right now...I'm taller and younger, but that's not the point...I'm taking cover in the one place I know I can hide...where I came from.

The Atom floats on the air currents back to the basement. She floats above Batgirl and lands on her shoulder.

She says, "The door is opened slightly and we haven't head the police shoot at anything or say anything. My guess he's hiding in the alley. Wanna go find out?"

 

[Catman_prb]

"When's he going to hit next?" Ethan Bennet asked his boss, his shoes up on his desk.

"Valentine's Day," Slam said, pouring himself a shot of whiskey.

The desk in front of them was covered in various reports from officers and so called witnesses alike. Nothing concrete, and no leads.

"That's a month away. Surely we can get something before then," Ethan said, rubbing the itchy five o'clock shadow that was growing in length.

"We've got nothing to go on. Gordon's come down hard on all of my usual contacts. Seems like he's trying to make this some kind of public relations coup," Bradley said, drinking the whiskey.

"That's a idea," Ethan said thoughtfully.

"What is?"

"PR. 'The Man Who Caught Holiday',"

"So? We'd get a little more business, and Gordon wouldn't be able to keep comparing us to vigilantes in his press conferences," Bradley shrugged his massive frame.

"Exactly. If we can catch Holiday, then they'd have to take us seriously about Gordon. This could be a chance to take him down for good,"

"Huh...you may have an idea there," Slam said, sitting down on the table "But what we need is a man on the inside,"

"'Cept Gordon's got everyone petrified,"

"Not everyone,"

"Oh?"

"What do you know about Eddie Nygma?"

"Not a lot. I was booted off the force right before he got into MCU. I've heard he was...dedicated,"

"Pyscopath I've heard. Anyway, before everything inside went dead, I was hearing rumours,"

"Oh yeah?"

"Apparantly Nygma's trying to make a thing about taking Gordon down,"

"Huh...any chance of getting a meeting with this guy?"

"I'll see what I can do,"

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Ultimate Fables Presents...

Bigby Wolf in...

The Gatecrashers, or Bigby's Bad Day...

Chapter Finale...​

It was pitch black in the cave, but to the likes of Bigby and Hector Hall, the Fate assigned to assist the Fabletown Sheriff, it was no problem at all navigating the winding passageway.

Bigby sniffed the air and held up his hand, stopping both he and Fate in their tracks.

Bigby and Hector crept forward, careful not to make a sound. Coming around the bend, Bigby and Fate entered the portal chamber, coming to rest on a small outcropping that overlooked the entire area. It was a large cavern, large enough to comfortably hold a dragon...which is exactly what they were looking at.

"Great...Smaug", Bigby cursed under his breath.

"First Darth Vader, now the dragon from The Hobbit...I knew this job would have it's perks."

Taking a look across the cavern floor, both Bigby's and Hector's eyes went wide in shocked horror. They were everywhere...the ground was literally crawling with them.

Wooden soldiers. All armed and lining up in formation.
At their head, near the room's main entrance, was a man barking out orders.

"Who's that?"

"Nottingham", Bigby scowled, remembering his dealing with the cocky swordsman.
"He's another one of the Emperor's Knights Imperial."

"This is about as bad as it looks, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it definitely is about to hit the fan. We need to rally the troops, Fate, and fast. The Empire is..."

Bigby growled as he spun around, slashing the Monster across it's chest. The thing didn't so much as pause as it clubbed Hector across the head, sending him falling over the edge and crashing onto the cavern floor below.

Bigby's eyes narrowed as the Monster came at him again.

Spoiler

Bigby leaped at the creature, but the Monster anticipated the move and punched the Sheriff hard in the gut, sending him falling over the ledge as well.

As Bigby crashed into the floor, the Monster landed right on the back of his head, squashing it into the rock.

Bigby tried to recover, but the Monster's relentless attack never stopped. As Bigby slowly succumbed to unconsciousness, the last thing he remembered was hearing the thunder of thousands of marching feet and the fading vision of an army marching to war...

Next in Ultimate Fables...

The March of the Wooden Soldiers, Ultimate Style...

 

[Byrd Man]

"Clancy O'Hara, Chuckie Sol, Hamilton Hill. What do they have in common?"​

I shrug at Nygma as I pull a pack out of my jacket pocket and light up a fresh cig.​

"They got dopey first names?"​

"Nothing, except the fact that they've faced their share of controversy."​

"You just like stringing things along, huh," I ask as I take a long drag off my smoke.​

"I've done some digging of my own, Sage. Not on this case, but a related one. O'Hara was dirty."​

"Bull. I went through his background with a fine tooth comb, didn't find a thing."​

"'To sin by silence when we should protest makes cowards out of men'."​

"Yeah, and beware the ides of March while you're at it."​

"O'Hara was a Captain in Admin. Narco in the late 90's. Ran a unit along with some other famous cops."​

"Yeah, Gordon, Colonel Flass."​

"Along with Captain Essen and one Detective John Grayson."​

That picture I saw on O'Hara's wall right after his murder. I could never place the woman, but I knew the guys.​

"What are you jiving at?"​

"That unit was as crooked as my urinary tract."​

"Might want to get that checked out."​

"O'Hara was never directly responsible for it, but he looked the other way while Gordon, Flass, and Essen took bribes and did busts for the mob. O'Hara got a cut by keeping his mouth shut."​

"Where does Grayson fit into all this?"​

"He doesn't. John Grayson was a rookie, refusing to partake."​

"But he sinned by silence, did he not?"​

"That's different. O'Hara was a captain, he had the power to shut down. Grayson was just a rank and file detective while Gordon, Flass, and Essen were all Lieutenants and Sergeants."​

"Chuckie Sol and Hamilton Hill. Where do they work into things?"​

"Sol was Grissom's button man for years, you make your own connections there. Hill's involvement, if any...doesn't seem to be as clear."​

"So let me try to follow you. You're saying that Holiday is killing these people because of something that happened over ten years ago."​

"That's what I think...or maybe I don't think that."​

I take another drag off my cigarette and try wrap my head around.​

"You know what you're saying? You're saying that whoever is killing these people is doing it because of something a corrupt narco squad - that, by the way comprised of the commissioner, the head of IA, the captain of the MCU, and two murdered brother officers - did back in the late nineties?"​

"I always knew you were smart, Sage. I just wish you worked for me during my run in Homicide."​

"You're insane."​

"Keep digging, Sage. You'll find out what you need. I wanted to set you on the right track."​

"Shove it, Eddie," I say as I flick my cigarette butt on the pavement and walk away.​

"You'll see!" He screams back at me as I walk away.​

"Valentine's Day is right around the corner!"​

 

[Andy C.]

[EDIT: Also retconning out of continuity, also because I am a moron.]

 

[Spike_x1]

The Black Maskers had fallen in line, and all that it had cost Bane was some bruised knuckles. In the past week, he forced the men and women who now worked under him to be clean while doing their jobs. He needed them focused while working. Roman Sionis' gang might have been in a very sorry state, but their numbers were larger than anyone, even Bane, would have guessed. As Bane would later conclude, he was fortunate that only a fraction of the gang were in the warehouse when he first made himself known to the two dozen criminals that were present at the time. In actuality, the number of Black Masker was in the triple digits. A surprising amount of hoodlums and ruffians, who weren't already affiliated with another mob family, took their orders from Roman Sionis in some form or another. Black Mask practically had a small army at his command, unbeknown to everyone else. He was simply too insane to properly put his troops to use. Now, however, they took their orders from Bane.

He even had an informant within the Gotham City Police Department now.

Life truly was magnificent in these special times. Tonight, while going over videos of Bruce Wayne at red carpet galas, Bane was lost in thoughts of bloody vengeance and violence against the Batman. Finally, he pulled his mask off and drank the hot chocolate steaming and waiting at his side. He had never celebrated Christmas before, nor had any intention of ever doing so; but the women that he brought back here over the past several nights had remarked on his lack of any holiday dressings around his residence. Holiday sentiment was not something that the world had given him, so he had chosen to respond in kind. These women could either accept that or leave.

The closest that Bane ever came to holiday cheer was a cup of hot chocolate once a year. When he was a boy in Pena Duro, his friend Trogg had always managed to smuggle in chocolate every Christmas season, as well as somehow forcing hot water out of the awful pipes of the prison. Treasuring that hot beverage once a year, even though it tasted of rust and filthy water under the flavor of chocolate, had remained with Bane over the years and was the single piece of sentimentality that he ever allowed himself. Bane had even shared a cup with Talia once, years ago.

Looking to the chart that was pinned up on his wall, Bane stood from his chair and read over it again. Since learning of the true number of Black Maskers at his disposal, he had made some modifications to his plan. He had originally thought that he and whatever few of Sionis' men remained would have to do some recruiting for extra manpower before moving on to bigger fish. What a pleasant surprise that this was not the case. They could move right on to the next target: The Valestra Mob.

Charles "Chucky" Sol was dead, allegedly killed by the "Holiday" murderer that many said was prowling Gotham City's streets these days.

"Ridiculous," Bane muttered to himself. "Far too many themed criminals are crowded in this city." Of course, the large muscular man in a mask was more than aware of the irony in his complaints on that particular matter.

Here he was, hidden high in a tree and watching several members of the Valestra Family emerge out of the waters of Slaughter Swamp as their boss, Carl Grissom, oversaw the operation. From what Bane could surmise, in reaction to the appearance of the Holiday Killer, Grissom became concerned that all his men who had vanished without a trace over the last few months (courtesy of Bane actually) had been victims of Holiday before the killer became bold enough to make his murders more public, as his recent ones had been.

News of Bane's existence, confirmed by Kite-Man and the Falcone Family last year, obviously hadn't reached Mr. Grissom's ears yet. No matter. For the moment, Bane was content with not taking credit for the discreet elimination of various members of Gotham's crime families. As it was now, Grissom was under the impression that if murders were taking place in Gotham, one of the best places to hide bodies would be Slaughter Swamp.

And he was correct. Bane had hidden dozens of bodies in the waters, but was surprised when Grissom's men, attired in diving suits, came out of the swamp and claimed that they couldn't find anything. Hoping to confirm what he thought had happened to many of his men, Grissom's shoulders slumped in disappointment, while Bane's eyebrows rose in confusion under his mask.

Where did the bodies go?

That's when Bane saw the monstrous form coming out of the woods and slowly approaching Grissom and his thugs, while they drew their weapons. Bane was surprised once more this evening when he looked at the creature's face through his binoculars. It was wiping the decomposed human remains off its chin, answering Bane's question of where the bodies of Slaughter Swamp had gone, but astonishing him even further when he recognized the thing's face.

Umberto Maroni had become something less than human.

 

[Byrd Man]

Day after meeting with Selina and Sage. Beginning stage two of "Officer Down". Dirt on Gordon? Check. Dirt on Essen? Check. Dirt on Flass? Check. Time to scour their personal lives. Leads me to GHHS.

"I'll see you guys later."

Barbara Gordon. Sixteen years of tragedy and daddy issues wrapped in a neat little package. Mother and brother: murdered. Daddy James rules with an iron fist while Stepmomma Sarah whispers sweet nothings into his ear. Girl like that is a time bomb ticking away.

Odds that she'll be a stripper giving out BJs for twenty bucks in five years: 10/1

Swigging on hip flask filled with Jack while I watch Barbara cut through the school's parking lot. No Selina, but not too hard on the eyes. A heart breaker one day, if she isn't already. Redhead with a cut body, has to work out to keep the shape.....Mom was a redhead.

Phone buzzes on my hip.

"Speak."

"Edward Nygma."

"Speaking."

"My name is Slam Bradley. Ever heard of me?"

"Used to be a cop, right?"

"That's right. I'm a PI now."

"How'd you get this number, dick?"

"All in due time, Lieutenant. I want to have a sit down with you. Me and one of my investigators."

"What's this concerning?"

"A case I'm working. I'll make it worth your while."

Long, hard look at Barbara. Body swaying as she walks.

"I'm free right now."

"Meet me at my office on 19th Street."

"I'll be there in a half hour."

Shut phone, start up the car. Darling Barbara will have to wait until later.
​

 

[Byrd Man]

Nygma is crazy. He's bat**** insane. He can't be right. Can't be....but if he's so off target, then why the hell am I sitting in front of a computer and looking over every arrest that Narcotics unit made back in the late 90's?

The cast on my arm is itching like hell, sure sign that the wounds the Chinese crime boss afflicted on me are healing.

Through the fall of '97 I start to notice a trend. O'Hara and crew manage to arrest two big drug dealers in the Narrows and East End. Both of them seem to be business rivals of the Falcone and Maroni crime organizations.

The man they arrested on Christmas Eve of '97 is a big time player dabbling in Grissom's territory. I was in the academy when "White Christmas" broke, but I remember that close to twenty pounds of blow was found by Gordon and Flass in a warehouse out by the airport. The guy they arrested is still doing time and won't be up for parole again until 2012. The next arrest really catches my eye.

Julian William Day - WM/BH/BE
DOB: 7/7/1970
Arrest: 01/21/98
Charged Crime(s): Murder(1st degree), Assault With A Deadly Weapon, Resisting Arrest, Obstruction of Justice
Conviction(s): Manslaughter (2nd degree)
Sentence: 20 Years, eligible for parole in 10.
Paroled: 9/9/2009

I read more about Mr. Day. Apparently, he was a hitman for the drug dealer Gordon and Flass busted. The two of them arrested him not even a month after White Christmas. The case they had against him was weak and his attorney was able to exploit the jury and get him a light sentence. Another thing that catches my eye: Day's rep was that he committed his murders on holidays. It was rumored he killed four people on New Year's Day, but GCPD couldn't make a solid case off that murder.

A few computer clicks later tell me Day's current address. I log off the computer and grab a set of car keys to an unmarked in the parking garage.

Time to see what Mr. Julian Day is up to.
​

 

[Byrd Man]

​

"So anyway, bro, like I was saying..."

I barely listen as my best friend reels off another story about living in Opal City. I don't mean to tune him out, but I keep on playing over my date last night with Val. It was a good one....real good. I mean, I'm not the type to kiss and tell, but let's just say I managed to slide into second with ease........I touched her boobs, is what I mean.

"Bart. You alright?"

I shake my head and look down at my plate of half eaten cheese fries. Foster's, the small diner on Thompson Street, has the best fries in the midwest.

"Yeah, Ralph. I just got some things on my mind."

Ralph Dibny. My best friend through high school and still is the best one I got. He's on break from school in Pennsylvania.

"When are you going to let me meet this girl you've been dating?"

I shrug and go back to my plate.

"How about you and your girl? Sarah."

"Sue. Her name is Sue. Talk about a peach."

"You call her a 'peach'?" I ask with my eyebrow lifted slightly.

"You sound like my grandpa."

"Yeah, well you look like your grandfather!"

"...I know, Mom says I have his jawline."

"I really need to get better at this insult thing."

​

***********
​

After dinner Ralph and are on the way back to his house when a flock of police cars hold up traffic. I pull my car to the side of the road and cut it off.

"What's going on?"

"I'm going to see if there's an accident. I might can help out."

"You answer the phones, dude. What can you do?"

"Just come on."

Ralph follows me through the stalled traffic and up to the police barricades. Denny just so happens to be manning the police line and lets me sneak through. Ralph and I come to a stop when we see the carnage.

A dead body torn and ripped up by the asphalt. The man's clothes are tattered and his head looks caved in.

"Bart, Ralph. What are you guys doing here?"

Dad looks at me from across the scene. He and Jay are standing over the body with a couple of uniformed officers, checking it out.

"I thought there was an accident. I was coming to see if I could help."

"Everything is under control here, Bart," Jay says.

"I know you wanted to help, but you and your friend need to leave. You're contaminating the crime scene."

"I'll see you at home, son."

Ralph and I tun and leave without protest. Ralph remains silent until we're back in my car.

"Damn, dude. A real live dead body. Wonder who that guy was."

"I don't know, but Jay and Dad have it under control."

Ralph leaps back in the seat and starts to look down at his nose. I watch with shock as his nostrils flare and his nose twitches back in forth.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"It's a reaction I get. I found out about it in college."

"...You mean, like herpes?"

"No, dummy. My nose always shook in the criminology class I took...It means something fishy is going down....there's a mystery that needs solving."​

 

[Catman_prb]

Slam had suggested that they clean up the office before Nygma arrived, which consisted of Ethan moving stacks of papers into boxes. He sat down on his swivel chair, lighting a cigarette and holding his head in his hands.

He wasn't too keen on working with a sociopath like Nygma, but Gordon needed to be taken down. Whatever the cost.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in,"

 

[Byrd Man]

Slam had suggested that they clean up the office before Nygma arrived, which consisted of Ethan moving stacks of papers into boxes. He sat down on his swivel chair, lighting a cigarette and holding his head in his hands.

He wasn't too keen on working with a sociopath like Nygma, but Gordon needed to be taken down. Whatever the cost.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in,"

"Slam Bradley."

Old man looks like he's had a few too many Buds, translating into a beergut from hell. Other man, doesn't look familiar.

"Nygma, this is Ethan Bennet."

Name clicks.

"You used to be a cop, too. MCU Lieutenant if I'm not mistake."

Pull out my cigs.

"You don't mind?"

"How could I?" He asks with smoke planted firmly in hand.

"Gentlemen, what can I help you with?"

 

[Spike_x1]

The Luthor Museum of Civilization. What a big place, even for a museum. Despite being grouped in with the rest of Metropolis' infamous buildings with highly futuristic architecture, this place is ahead of its time all by its own merits. They make good use out of anti-gravity pads for a number of their displays, and I have to wonder how much some of these things cost. I don't doubt that it was negligible pocket change for someone like Lex, but I have to admit that I'm impressed all the same.

According to their catelogues, there is a stone tablet here with origins that trace back to an unknown ancient Scottish clan. We weren't able to confirm whether or not the clan in question was the McDougal Clan, but it was enough of a lead to attract the attention of myself and Lois. Also the Metropolis Police, apparently. I can see several officers in the museum lobby talking to a security guard.

Alright, so at least they're on the lookout for the McDougals.

"Mr. Kent! Ms. Lane!" A voice echoes out from across the large room. "Over here!" Looking over, we see a man in a suit and tie waving to us by the entrance into the Middle Ages section. "So pleased to meet you two. I'm Doctor Milton Fine," he says as Lois and I approach. He guides us both into the section of the museum as he continues explaining the situation.

"Naturally, after we'd heard what those terrorists were after when they attacked other locations, we alerted the authorities and beefed up our security, as you can see." We finally come to a pedestal and Dr. Fine pushes a button on it, which calls one of the hovering displays down to us. On the small anti-gravity pad is a block of stone about the size of a laptop. I quickly give it a quick scan as it's descending, and find nothing out of the ordinary with it. It's just a rock with writing on it that I can't read.

As the tablet resting on the hover pad comes to a rest afloat in front of us, Dr. Fine pulls a remote control out of his pocket and deactivates the security field around the tablet. He then puts on a pair of latex gloves and gently picks up the stone. "It took us a while to study it and make certain of its nature, but we believe that this is the final tablet that the McDougals are searching for."

"Why haven't you put it in the museum's vault until this mess with the terrorists is over?" asks Lois.

"That was actually our number one priority for today," replied Fine with a sigh. "Until the magnetic seal of our vault went offline an hour ago. We're trying to fix it as soon as possible, but for the time being, I'm afraid the tablet is safest within sight of the police and our security staff until the vault is restored. At least then we can keep an eye on it."

As Lois is jotting down notes, I can't help but worry that the malfunction with the vault is more than simple mechanical failure. What if one of the terrorists hacked into the museum's systems and shut down the vault?

As I'm thinking this, a strange smell hits my nose and I look around to see people in the room dropping like flies. "What the--?" Knockout gas? Microscopic vision confirms that suspicion as I analyze the air near the vents. "Just great."

 

[Saved]

The Atom shakes her head a couple more times until finally she has a grasp on reality.

Okay the hostages are safe and I haven't heard the Police yell anything about a masked vigilante dressed like a bat...I think things are semi-safe again.
She looks out from under the chair and doesn't see anyone noticing her.

If I'm Batgirl right now...I'm taller and younger, but that's not the point...I'm taking cover in the one place I know I can hide...where I came from.

The Atom floats on the air currents back to the basement. She floats above Batgirl and lands on her shoulder.

She says, "The door is opened slightly and we haven't head the police shoot at anything or say anything. My guess he's hiding in the alley. Wanna go find out?"

"Holy crap," I say, jumping backward in surprise. I see the Atom floating, eye level with me, simply staring as she waits for a reply. "Look, don't - don't do that. I'm already on edge, here."

Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and gain my composure. As the sound of footsteps and militaristic grunts come from the level above, my anxiety begins to rise. I need to get clear from here. I can't risk one of the officers recognizing me. This costume doesn't particularly a great job of obscuring my face. I am one in a trillion.

"Alright," I start, replaying what the Atom just said back in my head as I try to catch up. "Hiding in the alley... Oh, right. Killer Moth." Then it hits me. The boss. The main bady. The guy who started this mess hasn't been found. "Oh jeez..."

Instantly I move into action, running quickly up the stairs to the alleyway outside. "Come on! We have to act fast." As I motion her to follow, I look over my shoulder and shout back to Atom. "What did he look like? Was he wearing anything obvious like most of this city's jokers?"

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"Holy crap," I say, jumping backward in surprise. I see the Atom floating, eye level with me, simply staring as she waits for a reply. "Look, don't - don't do that. I'm already on edge, here."

Shaking my head, I take a deep breath and gain my composure. As the sound of footsteps and militaristic grunts come from the level above, my anxiety begins to rise. I need to get clear from here. I can't risk one of the officers recognizing me. This costume doesn't particularly a great job of obscuring my face. I am one in a trillion.

"Alright," I start, replaying what the Atom just said back in my head as I try to catch up. "Hiding in the alley... Oh, right. Killer Moth." Then it hits me. The boss. The main bady. The guy who started this mess hasn't been found. "Oh jeez..."

Instantly I move into action, running quickly up the stairs to the alleyway outside. "Come on! We have to act fast." As I motion her to follow, I look over my shoulder and shout back to Atom. "What did he look like? Was he wearing anything obvious like most of this city's jokers?"

The Atom repiles, "Yeah a camo-style trench coat, a black t-shirt, black pants, and biker boots. He had his face painted in cam-style as well."

She floats slightly ahead and she looks around.

The Atom says, "That's too easy."

She turns to look at Batgirl and points to opne manhole cover, "No way! Because if he really went down there he pulls the cover back to avoid suspiscion. My guess he went dumpster diving." She motions to a dumpster behind her.

 

[Catman_prb]

"Slam Bradley."

Old man looks like he's had a few too many Buds, translating into a beergut from hell. Other man, doesn't look familiar.

"Nygma, this is Ethan Bennet."

Name clicks.

"You used to be a cop, too. MCU Lieutenant if I'm not mistake."

Pull out my cigs.

"You don't mind?"

"How could I?" He asks with smoke planted firmly in hand.

"Gentlemen, what can I help you with?"

"Gordon," Ethan said, his eyes wandering over Nygma's slightly scruffy attire.

"We know the only reason that we don't just turn the corrupt bastard over to the IF is that he's got half the department on his payroll," Bennet said bluntly "So the only way to get his dirty laundry aired out in the open is to go straight to the press. But who'd listen to an ex-cop with a grudge, and the man gunning for Gordon's job?"

Nygma gave him the 'get on with it' stare.

"What we need to be is public heroes,"

Bennet slammed the one remaining folder down on the desk, entitled 'Holiday'.

"And this is how we do it,"

 

[Byrd Man]

"Gordon," Ethan said, his eyes wandering over Nygma's slightly scruffy attire.

"We know the only reason that we don't just turn the corrupt bastard over to the IF is that he's got half the department on his payroll," Bennet said bluntly "So the only way to get his dirty laundry aired out in the open is to go straight to the press. But who'd listen to an ex-cop with a grudge, and the man gunning for Gordon's job?"

Nygma gave him the 'get on with it' stare.

"What we need to be is public heroes,"

Bennet slammed the one remaining folder down on the desk, entitled 'Holiday'.

"And this is how we do it,"

Great. Idealist *****. Potential of my plan going up in flames: 5/1. Info on Holiday might make it worth it.

"Holiday. Not my department, gentlemen. Homicide is handling the case. As far as it goes with the commissioner, I may or may not have some information. How about we trade, tell me what you have on the city's newest killer, and I'll tell you what I have on our beloved top cop."

 

[Catman_prb]

Great. Idealist *****. Potential of my plan going up in flames: 5/1. Info on Holiday might make it worth it.

"Holiday. Not my department, gentlemen. Homicide is handling the case. As far as it goes with the commissioner, I may or may not have some information. How about we trade, tell me what you have on the city's newest killer, and I'll tell you what I have on our beloved top cop."

"Don't ******** me Nygma," Bennet said, an icy edge to his voice "I know people like you. Hell, I used to be you. If there's a puzzle to solve, you have to do it. It's a compulsion. So I know you know more about this Holiday killer than you're letting on,"

"And you can't deny that the odds of this working are better than any other plan you have going. Whatever **** you're trying at the moment, Gordon knows about. Believe me. This way, it looks like you're diverting attention away from his mob connections. And it's harder for him to gun down the men who caught Holiday. We catch Holiday, then it's only a matter of time until Gordon's next,"

 

[Byrd Man]

"And you can't deny that the odds of this working are better than any other plan you have going. Whatever **** you're trying at the moment, Gordon knows about. Believe me. This way, it looks like you're diverting attention away from his mob connections. And it's harder for him to gun down the men who caught Holiday. We catch Holiday, then it's only a matter of time until Gordon's next,"

"The dirt I have is the only thing keeping me alive, right now."

Rub my temples. Christ, I need a drink.

"I have some rumor and hearsay on Gordon, but that's all. It's enough to cause some smoke, but not enough to burn down the whole ****ing house of cards he sits on. If Gordon finds out that I don't have ****, I'm a dead man. Right now, I'm working things out to get more information on the commissioner's dirty dealings..."

Selina. My mouth kissing the nape of her neck. Running my hands up through the warmth of her inner thigh.

"And finding out dirt on his family..."

Barbara Gordon. Sixteen year's of trouble packed into tight jeans. Captain Essen, on her knees face down in the commissioner's crotch.

"I'm also playing an angle on the Holiday killings."

Sage. Puppet to my pupper master. Julian Day a possible key.

"I don't see what you have to offer me. From where I stand, you can't give me anything I already don't have or can't get on my own."

Shoot a look at Bennet.