The New Ultimate DC RPG

[Saved]

(BATGIRL)​

Sitting on my bed, I stare out the window, gazing at the city skyline. Before me lie my text books - chemistry and forensics. It's only been a week of classes and I've got a test on Tuesday. Senior year's a real blast so far...

On the dresser at the far end of my room, the Red Hood's phone rests next to my personal diary. Ironic, almost - that my personal thoughts would lie openly next to the most secretive man in my life. Well ... second, most, anyway.

Quickly, my thoughts shift back to Batman, and a scowl comes over my face as feelings of disenchantment rise within me. "How could he be like that?" I ask aloud as my mind begins to return to that night. "Be like ... like dad."

****​

"No ... " I say in awe as I glare at the figure's cloaked visage. The man stands tall over me, a living shadow with bright white eyes piercing the darkness. I drop the batarang to the floor as my mouth opens wide, a gasp inhaling audibly from my throat. My mind tries to think, tries to formulate something to say. But as I stare at the two horns rising like sharp mountain tops on his head, all I can utter is two simple words. "It's you-"

****​

 

[Saved]

Red Hood​

Detective Dagmar Procjnaw walks up the stairs to her low rent Gotham apartment. The stairs creek and cry with every step, the warped wooden boards barely able to stay nailed together. The faded wallpaper linning the walls curls up at the corners, revealing the dry wall stained by numerous leaks over the years.

At the top of the stairs, Dagmar reaches the door to her home. Putting the key in the lock, she fiddles with the knob for a few seconds as she tries to open the door. With a quick burst of force, she thrusts her shoulder into the door, forcing it open as the bottom scratches the interior floor. Ambivalent, she lets out a sigh and steps inside, forcing the door shut in a similiar manner.

Moving through the darkness, she walks a few steps to the table in the center of the room. Reaching into her jacket, she pulls out her phone and badge, placing them on the table top. As she stares at the items, something suddenly catches her eye. Instantly, her body moves into position as she grabs the gun at her waist, resting her wrist on top of the other and taking aim. "Show yourself or I'll shoot," she speaks, pointing the barrel of her weapon in the direction of the intruder. Suddenly, a dark figure breaches the darkness, stepping forward as he comes into view. Dagmar recognizes the figure's features, identifying him as the vigilante known as the Red Hood.

"That won't be necessary," the Red Hood says smugly.
"You," she groans, lowering her weapon slightly. "Get out," she tells him, holstering the weapon as she turns her back to the vigilante. The detective slowly walks toward the refridgerator in the minimal space that can barely pass as a kitchen. Opening it, she pulls out a bottle of whiskey, gripping it tightly by the stalk.

"How'd you know I was here?" He asks, filling the void.
"The bills on the table," she says, grabbing a glass and filling it with the golden liquid. "You put the electric counterclockwise from how I left it this morning."
"You remembered that?" He asks in surprise. She nods as she grabs the glass, downing the alcohol quickly. "I'll have to be more mindful next time."

"What're you doing here?" She asks bluntly, pouring herself another shot. The Red Hood stares at the glass, then to her.
"Little heavy for a Wednesday night, isn't it?"
"What do you care?" She asks, swallowing another round.
"Did Lark get to you yet?" He questions, this time with concern. Dagmar's eyes open wide for a moment after hearing the name, but quickly return to normal as she puts on an apathetic expression.

"Why won't you leave me alone?" She moans, irritated.
"Because you helped me," he says proudly. "I owe you."
"I can handle myself, alright? I don't care what you or what Burke thinks - I've been looking out for myself for thirty-two years. I can do it a little longer. And I certainly don't need some ... vigilante's help," the says scornfully.

The Red Hood stares at her, examining her movements and subtle twitches and shakes. He sees something others would miss - the disguised mannerisms of fear. "Alright, Detective, I'll go," he says simply, turning his back and heading for the door. Dagmar watches him from the corner of her eye, almost as if refusing to turn her head, and give him the satisfaction of her full attention. As the Red Hood pulls the door open with a quick jerk, he steps into the hallway before a call from the detective stops him.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" She growls, knowing the reply she'll recieve. The Red Hood looks over his shoulder and grins beneath his mask.
"I'll see you around, Detective Procjnaw," he tells her as he closes the door tightly behind him.

Dagmar slams the glass on the counter top as she lets out a long and weary sigh. "Fantastic."

 

[Batman]

Mid run, a noise suddenly catches my attention. I make my legs heavy and stop myself fast, standing idle in the middle of a dark backstreet as I listen closely. Looking to the rooftops, I search for the noise, hoping to catch a glimpse of the slightest movement. Behind me I hear a sound akin to the flapping of wings. Instantly, I spin a full 180 - looking frantically to find the noise.

"Alright ... " I whisper in a hushed voice. "Where are you ... " Reaching to my belt, I grab the batarang subtley. I clasp the device tight in my hand as I squint my eyes to focus. As I stare at the night sky above, I feel a slight vibration shoot beneath my feet across the asphalt. My heart sinks as I feel the presence of something appear behind me. I turn my head to look over my shoulder, preparing to fight for my life.

"No ... " I say in awe as I glare at the figure's cloaked visage. The man stands tall over me, a living shadow with bright white eyes piercing the darkness. I drop the batarang to the floor as my mouth opens wide, a gasp inhaling audibly from my throat. My mind tries to think, tries to formulate something to say. But as I stare at the two horns rising like sharp mountain tops on his head, all I can utter is two simple words. "It's you-"

"Yes. I'd say so."

Batman glared downwards at the young woman as she stared back at him with fright. Not unlike a child that had been caught sneaking out of their bedroom. This had been the third time Batman had actually seen her out on the streets, but it was the first time she had been able to return the glance. And even upclose, she still didn't look a day over seventeen. The vigilante had been running patrol for the last three hours when reports started coming in over the police band that a woman was shouting for help in The Narrows. He had intended to aide her from whatever attacker had caused her to scream, but by the time he had arrived, someone else had beaten him to it. The would-be victim had identified her savior as a shadow with red hair.

It hadn't taken very long to catch up to her - the girl was as careless as ever. And for that reason, among others, this masquerade had gone on for long enough.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

 

[Eddie Brock]

SELINA KYLE

The Ritz was easier to infiltrate than I had expected. With the catering uniform I borrowed, I was able to slip in through the kitchen's back door. From there, I guided my way through the kitchen and across the ballroom. I'm crossing the lobby when a team of GCPD officers comes running through. I quickly duck behind a pillar and watch.

"Nygma," I mutter to myself. His vendetta against Maroni rivals my own. From the looks of it, he's come to take Sal. Well, he's going to have to get to him first. I check the concealed pistol hugging my leg before dashing for the elevators.

I watch their elevator car climb to the roof. The other set of doors opens with a ding, and I slip in. An elderly man follows me, and I let him push the button for 10 before I push 14, the last floor before the roof. I stand in one corner of the elevator, feeling the cold weight of the pistol against my leg and trying to avoid eye contact.

When the elevator finally reaches the fourteenth floor, I'm not greeted with the sight I was expecting. Down the hall a ways, some of Nygma's men are taking cover with their guns drawn. I see shell casings on the carpet and bullet holes in the walls. I dart out of the elevator, taking cover myself.

What the Hell? I wonder to myself. Nygma's men mobilize, so I follow them as quietly as possible. As I do, I hear them talking about a hitman. It seems Nygma and I weren't the only ones to choose tonight to strike. Good, I think, Nygma will have to deal with the hitman, and I can get to Maroni.

I hang back a moment to let Nygma's team climb up the stairs and rush through the roof access door. After counting to five Mississippi's, I take a deep breath and follow them.
​

 

[Saved]

"Yes. I'd say so."

Batman glared downwards at the young woman as she stared back at him with fright. Not unlike a child that had been caught sneaking out of their bedroom. This had been the third time Batman had actually seen her out on the streets, but it was the first time she had been able to return the glance. And even upclose, she still didn't look a day over seventeen. The vigilante had been running patrol for the last three hours when reports started coming in over the police band that a woman was shouting for help in The Narrows. He had intended to aide her from whatever attacker had caused her to scream, but by the time he had arrived, someone else had beaten him to it. The would-be victim had identified her savior as a shadow with red hair.

It hadn't taken very long to catch up to her - the girl was as careless as ever. And for that reason, among others, this masquerade had gone on for long enough.

"And what are you supposed to be?"

My heart almost stops at the sound of his voice. I try to move my mouth but it remains still, remaining agape along with my eyes behind my mask. His figure towers over me, his muscles large and pumped - bursting behind the tight fabric of his suit. Amazing how I'd almost forgotten how intimidating he can be - even when he's not hidden by the shadows.

"Umm, Mister, uh... Batman - sir, I uh..." I begin, saying the first words that cycle through my mind.

Come on, Babs, don't look like an idiot - pretend he's one of Dad's lieutenants. Powerful, but still, just a man.

"I'm Batgirl - er, Batwoman..." I explain, stumbling through the sentence awkwardly. "Just, you know, someone trying to make a difference - protect the innocent, and all that."

 

[Batman]

"Umm, Mister, uh... Batman - sir, I uh..." I begin, saying the first words that cycle through my mind.

"I'm Batgirl - er, Batwoman..." I explain, stumbling through the sentence awkwardly. "Just, you know, someone trying to make a difference - protect the innocent, and all that."

For a moment, he was silent, unsure of what to say. There were so many things he could tell her that he was sure she already knew, such as the dangers that these streets possessed and the high risk factor of wearing the symbol crudely sewn across her chest. It was bad enough that "Batgirl" was trying to fight crime with no suitable training to back the effort, but she was essentially making herself up to be a target for a city that was already hostile towards the man that had inspired her, an accused murderer of a GCPD officer. Batman was no role model - he himself the first to admit as such. And if he had even imagined that inspiring the city to stand against the mob would start with teenagers...

Crossing his arms, Batman kept a focused eye on the girl's nerve-striken expression. He was almost sure that she was really Barbara Gordon, but the evidence to prove that had been lost to the capture of the Holiday killer. For a moment that night, it had seemed that Batgirl had dodged the proverbial bullet. But he wasn't going to allow this to continue any longer.

"Look,", He began, hiding no amount of contempt in his voice. "I'm not going to lie about this. You're a teenager with no training and experience necessary to survive something like this. The fact that you've actually made it this far is nothing short of a miracle. But if you continue, I can promise that soon, you will be dead."

Watching the color disappear from the visible portions of her face, Batman knew that he had stricken a nerve. And it was all that he needed in order to continue.

"I want to make this absolutely clear. This isn't a world you want to throw yourself into. Whatever drove you to make this decision isn't something worth dying for, especially at your age. You still have a chance at a normal life, and if I were like you, I would have taken it a long time ago. This is not fun, and it is not a game."

He indicates the emblem on his chest, as his voice drops an octave lower. His own heart stills, realizing just how true his next few words have echoed upon his own life. And just how desperately he doesn't want to see that happen to someone else.

"This will consume you."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

"Happy Harbor, Rhode Island," I say as possible locations for this "Justice League's" base of operations is brought up. "About two miles outside of the town, along the coast, the Army built an underground base--decommissioned now, of course-- that was used during the Cold War. It was claimed to be a ICBM silo, but was actually a training facility for experimental super-soldiers. The "One Man Army Corps," the team was meant to be called. The experiment was eventually abandoned, along with the base; it came up as part of my own training when the military utilized by abilities in Afghanistan."

I know the other heroes may not be comfortable about meeting inside a relic of the Cold War, but I believe it could serve our purposes well.

"The base is hidden from plain sight, meaning we can meet there without drawing attention. It's built into a small mountain, which means it's got plenty of natural defense, impervious to outside attack from anything other than, well, people like us. And it has enough space and equipment to house our team. It may need some scouting out and some refurbishing, but I think that the Happy Harbor facility could be precisely what the Justice League needs....at least for the time being."

The Atom looks at Wonder Woman and says, "I would be willing to help out with that little" she rolls her eyes at her pun and says, "adventure. It sounds like Happy Harbor could be a winner."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

"Victor Sage, my man."

I smile and shake Jason Bard's hand as I slide into the diner booth across the table from him. "Hey, Jason. How you been?"

"I've been okay. How about you? Heard you left the force a few weeks back."

"Yeah. You know yourself how the crap you put up with can take its toll."

"I burned out, I burned out hard. Not like you, though. Went out swinging on Nygma, eh?"

"Believe me when I say he had it coming."

"Say no more. I worked with the man."

A waitress comes up and gets our orders. I get a burger while Jason gets a garden salad. "Like to eat healthy, what can I say?"

I wait before the waitress walks off before I turn to Bard. "So why did you text me? What's going on?"

"I wanted to talk to you about business."

"You mean your PI business?"

"Yeah. Let me tell you, it's booming. Slam Bradley was killed in a fire. They claimed it was a murder, but my guy in the GCPD can't get me any intel. Ever since he died I've had a bunch of business from his regulars. I've got more than I can handle."

"And where exactly do I come into the picture?"

"Just giving you a heads up. You were a crack detective, Vic. Still are. You can get your PI license and make a killing out there. You can come in with me and be my partner, or go out on your own. It doesn't matter to me what you do, I just want to help a fellow former officer out and your skills are going to waste sitting at a desk at the paper writing about fender benders."

I've suddenly got thoughts of buxom babes in tight dresses, square-jawed thugs and myself in an trenchcoat doing cheesy narration....wait, I already do that last one.

Vic Sage: Private Eye? It could work.​

 

[Eddie Brock]

SUPERGIRL

"What are you?" I ask horrified as I stare at a dark, mirror image of myself.

She smiles. "I'm you, Kara Zor-El. Or, at least, I will be once we're done here." She curls her fingers, and her palm glows a bluish color. Still smirking, she adds, "But, for now, you can call me 'Matrix.'" She holds out her hand, and the glowing blue energy begins to swirl.

"Where do you come from? How do you know me?"

"It will all make sense in time, Kryptonian."

She fires a blast of energy at me, which I narrowly dodge while still getting my bearings. The crater we formed erupts into a shower of reddish rocks, and Matrix sneers. She turns towards me and unleashes a wave of energy. It hits me with such force that I'm flung backward into the side of a rock formation.

Matrix collides with me, bringing the rock above us crumbling down. When the dust clears, she's standing there, ready to deliver a punch. I move to block it, but I'm a second too slow. My jaw rattles as Matrix catapults me into the air. She launches herself at me, her fingers twisting and expanding into razor-sharp claws.

"Aaaauggggh!" I cry out as Matrix digs those claws into my side. Having my skin pierced is practically a new experience for me. I look down to see my own blood, a very unusual sight, running slowly down Matrix's hands.

Matrix laughs maliciously and twists her claws in me. "Yes, even a Kryptonian can feel pain," she whispers into my ear. "This is how I killed her, your friend Mae. Like you, she was stunned into silence."

It's not just that I'm stunned. As Matrix pushes her claws deeper, I feel her reaching into my mind. Likewise, I get a closer look at hers. The line between her thoughts and my thoughts is blurred. Her memories are spread out for me to see.

"Go ahead, Kara Zor-El. Find the answers you seek," she urges me on.

At first, I see darkness. The matrix. And from that, a creature rises. My birth. The formless blob slides across the ground silently. It wraps itself around the leg of an unsuspecting victim. The alien creature cries and collapses. The dark blob grows and mutates, taking the shape of its victim. My first form. The next few memories fly by, with Matrix killing others and absorbing their forms. She travels the galaxy, growing more powerful with every kill. And then, Krypton.

I see the shimmering city. Argo. Matrix sneaks into a house under the cover of darkness. Hiding in the corner of the room, she eyes something which appears like an alien crib. She makes her way to the crib, and a blond-haired baby comes into view.

"...no," I gasp, still wincing from the pain.

"Yes, Kara Zor-El. I came for you," Matrix breathes. "But your father discovered me. A scientist, like his brother, he captured me and studied me. He called me a monster, a parasite." She sneers. "I was to be eliminated. Then, the destruction came. I barely escaped with my life. I traveled the galaxy, continuing to grow stronger, until I found myself on Earth. And imagine my surprise when I found that Kara Zor-El was here!"

I struggle in Matrix's grasp.

"And these amazing powers that the yellow sun grants you! I knew I must complete what I had attempted to do all those years ago. I have your body and your memories now. All that's left to do is kill you and take your power! Your life will be mine!"

"Sorry," I grunt, "still using it." I grab Matrix by the wrists and pull her claws from my side. I drive my knee into her stomach, and she goes limp. I lift her over my head, tossing her across the desert into the side of a large rock. I then fire a blast of heat vision into the side of the rock, and it explodes.

Matrix rolls over, barely conscious, as I approach. "You can't destroy me, Kryptonian!"

"Wouldn't dream of it." I encase Matrix in a block of ice with my arctic breath. Picking up the ice like a shotput, I launch her into the sky through the atmosphere. In the vacuum of space, that ice won't melt, and she won't hurt anyone.

Meanwhile, I've got to get back home.
​

 

[Spike_x1]

The Atom looks at Wonder Woman and says, "I would be willing to help out with that little" she rolls her eyes at her pun and says, "adventure. It sounds like Happy Harbor could be a winner."

"Agreed. We should make plans to rendezvous at a later date after making contact with Batman and Majestic, and then proceed from there. Until then, we can brainstorm and work on establishing a means of communication between us without relying on J'onn, and also setting things up in Happy Harbor when we get the time to spare."

A solemn look back to the chaotic streets of Metropolis lets the others know where my priorities currently lie. "For right now, however, my city could use my help. I have superhearing, so just give me a shout when we're ready to begin."

Flying downward to continue my work, I give one final look back to the people I guess I can now call my teammates. "I'm looking forward to working with all of you."

 

[Byrd Man]

A solemn look back to the chaotic streets of Metropolis lets the others know where my priorities currently lie. "For right now, however, my city could use my help. I have superhearing, so just give me a shout when we're ready to begin."

Flying downward to continue my work, I give one final look back to the people I guess I can now call my teammates. "I'm looking forward to working with all of you."

I give Supes a little salute as he takes to the skies. "If you need any help with rebuilding, I know a guy how does drywalling."

I turn towards Wonder Woman and Atom. "Central and Keystone need me, too. Don't like to leave them in a bind. I gotta tell you, this has been awesome. I am really looking forward to what's to come. Justice League!"

I let out a squeal of excitment before I snap my mouth shut. "Alright, I'm going to go before I do anything else embarrassing! Bye!"

I take off and speed down the roads and highways of America, heading west towards home.

 

[Byrd Man]

It takes $300 and a two-day seminar but I get it. A license that says Charles Victor Sage is now a licensed private investigator for the state of New York. I planned on calling Knox and breaking the news to him, but he called me before I could get a chance. Turns out the paper is cutting back on some of the freelance stuff. I can still work, but not like I was. I told him that he had very good timing and explained what I was up to. He still wanted to keep me around to do odds and ends on some stories, so it's a win-win.​

I guess I'm now a private detctive/vigilante that moonlights as a newspaper reporter....or am I a reporter who moonlights as a private detective/vigilante? Or am I a vigilant that....daylights as a reporter/PI? I have no idea, but I need to figure it out before I print up my business cards.​

I'm at my new office that looks, smells, and feels a lot like my apartment....okay, it's my apartment. My cellphone starts going off.​

"Sage."​

"Vic, it's Helena."​

"Ahh, I was wondering if you'd call."​

"Well, I got your voicemails...texts....candygrams...and that strip-a-gram."​

"I thought you'd appreciate the humor."​

"I sure did...but the board of directors who watched me get a lapdance from a muscle-bound man with a spray-on tan? Eh, not so much."​

"Just be glad I didn't opt for the full package. The brochure said something about whipped cream and cherries shooting out of somewhere they didn't specify. Anyway, what's going on?"​

"I just wanted to call and tell you that we had fun the other night, more fun than I have in a long time. I'm surrounded by yes men and stiffs every day, so it felt good to let my hair down with you."​

"And?"​

"And while you nearly crossed the line into stalker territory, I'm still interested and I have something I wanted to share with you that might interest you."​

Please tell me it's an old college girlfriend who's open to new and exciting things.​

"You know Bruce Wayne, the owner of Waynetech...."​

Oh, God...a threesome with Bruce Wayne? I'd probably get to ride in a limo before, during, or after the deed so that's a plus.​

"A few months back he was shot at during a Waynetech press conference. GCPD investigated the case and assigned him a bodyguard. They dropped the case after no leads and no further threats on his life and his protection was removed. You used to be a cop, right? Maybe you could look into it for me? I'd be happy to pay you."​

"Sure. Just a heads up, I don't come cheap."​

"We can discuss the terms of payment over dinner?"​

"That sounds good to me."​

Helena and I set a time and place for tonight's date and we hang up. Just like that, I have my first case.​

Who shot at Bruce Wayne? Looks like it's up to me to get to the bottom of it.​

I'll worry about that later, but right now I've got to get back to work. I grab my laptop and go back to writing.​

**** this city in the ass. She's a disgusting ****e not fit for even my fantasies. She's bloated and full of diseases. Crime and corruption are her crabs and syphilis, they consume her every waking moment and slowly eat at her until she's nothing. But I still love her, crabs and all, no matter what she's does. I'm her penicillin shot. It's up to me to rid the disease and make her a healthy ****e again.​

She is a dirty gutter ****, but she's my dirty gutter ****.​

Who am I? I'm the mother****ing Batman.​

 

[Andy C.]

Lex Luthor​

She hangs up the phone and says, "I can almost see the headlines now; The death of Superman."

"Oh, the impact of what I do will have a much further reach than just that," I say as I examine the crystalline structure of the mineral through the miniaturized electron microscope on my work station, "but yes, that will make for a most entertaining read."

Examining the way that K-49 is constructed, creating synthetic duplicates would be extraordinarily difficult and probably more costly than would be productive, especially considering I only need a sliver of it to do the job. Perhaps I can find a way to tap into all that stored energy, focus it as a direct-energy weapon, use it as the power source for a new generation of weapons technology.....

....of course, if all goes according to plan, none of that will be necessary.

On the subject of the plan, I open up a channel on my wireless earpiece, and call one of my favorite hired problem-solvers.

"Mister Blake, I trust that you're sober enough to understand what I'm saying," I say, my tone with just enough condescension to remind him of who is in charge without actually setting him off.

"Ugh, unfortunately," he grumbles from his home in Suicide Slum. I pay him quite a substantial amount to perform his duties, so why he chooses to live in such proverbial hole in the wall is beyond me. "So, we doin' this or what?"

"To the point, as always," I say with a touch of admiration. "Yes, we are indeed 'doing this.' The Manhattan Project is go, set to launch in two days. In the meantime, I need you to remove other undesirable elements from the equation. Anyone who might get through to the Blue Core's....inner workings."

There's a pause over the line as Blake processes what I'm telling him.

"So you want me to finish off the rest of the old crew," he says, with the closest I've ever heard to reluctance from him.

"Precisely. Veidt's assassination was a declaration of intent, but for these, I will need you to dispose of them without raising suspicion. Dreiberg, Juspeczyk, and Kovacs, if you can find him. Should they survive the first wave, any one of them could have a profound and unpredictable effect on Dr. Osterman's mental state. You will prevent such a possibility from arising."

"Well.....they won't go down easy," Blake says, his voice bordering on unwilling.

"Are you saying you can't do it?"

"No, Mr. Luthor, just.....it's gonna be a hell of a job to pull off in two days."

"Then impress me," I say before disconnecting the line, and opening up a new one. "Doctor Wintergreen, is your client available?"

"For you, Mr. Luthor? Always."

"Good. Have Slade geared up and ready to dispatch a loose end of mine. The target is Edward Blake; if your boy is as good as he claims, he'll know the name immediately. Blake is currently carrying out a job for me. I want Wilson to track Blake, make sure the job is completed, and then terminate him."

"What's the time frame?"

"Thirty-six hours."

"Not a problem, Mr. Luthor."

"Good to hear," I say. "Consider this your client's tryout to become my new favorite problem-solver. If he does his job well, there will be quite a future for the both of you."

With that, I disconnect my earpiece and continue working into the late hours of the night.

That night, I have a dream.

It's the same dream I have had almost every night for the last three years.

I'm running. Running through the corridors of my Tower, blast walls slamming shut and force fields going up as I run past them. They're a web of defense that could hold back the entire Chinese Army.

He practically wades through them, like he barely even notices.

No matter how fast I run, he's right behind me. That bright blue costume and red cape, that smile that's entranced millions. Those burning red eyes that could reduce me to ash at any second.

I dive behind my desk, scrambling for something, anything, to stop him or even slow him down. Nothing I have could even make a scratch.

Just like every night, he lifts the desk over his head, taking away my last bit of shelter, his eyes glowing, preparing to send me to oblivion.

This time, though, I find something in my pocket. A shard of glowing green rock.

I hold it up to him.....and the fire in his eyes is snuffed out.

I stand, and he begins to wither, his strength failing him, his skin beginning to blister and boil.

I finally hear him scream.....


....and I sleep more soundly than I have in years.

 

[Saved]

For a moment, he was silent, unsure of what to say. There were so many things he could tell her that he was sure she already knew, such as the dangers that these streets possessed and the high risk factor of wearing the symbol crudely sewn across her chest. It was bad enough that "Batgirl" was trying to fight crime with no suitable training to back the effort, but she was essentially making herself up to be a target for a city that was already hostile towards the man that had inspired her, an accused murderer of a GCPD officer. Batman was no role model - he himself the first to admit as such. And if he had even imagined that inspiring the city to stand against the mob would start with teenagers...

Crossing his arms, Batman kept a focused eye on the girl's nerve-striken expression. He was almost sure that she was really Barbara Gordon, but the evidence to prove that had been lost to the capture of the Holiday killer. For a moment that night, it had seemed that Batgirl had dodged the proverbial bullet. But he wasn't going to allow this to continue any longer.

"Look,", He began, hiding no amount of contempt in his voice. "I'm not going to lie about this. You're a teenager with no training and experience necessary to survive something like this. The fact that you've actually made it this far is nothing short of a miracle. But if you continue, I can promise that soon, you will be dead."

Watching the color disappear from the visible portions of her face, Batman knew that he had stricken a nerve. And it was all that he needed in order to continue.

"I want to make this absolutely clear. This isn't a world you want to throw yourself into. Whatever drove you to make this decision isn't something worth dying for, especially at your age. You still have a chance at a normal life, and if I were like you, I would have taken it a long time ago. This is not fun, and it is not a game."

He indicates the emblem on his chest, as his voice drops an octave lower. His own heart stills, realizing just how true his next few words have echoed upon his own life. And just how desperately he doesn't want to see that happen to someone else.

"This will consume you."

My stomach drops, his words striking me like a vicious barrage of bullets. "Inexperienced" with "no training"? "This is not fun, this is not a game"? Of all the people, I'd think he'd understand. I'd expect him to encourage me - to be happy that someone else out there is ready to stand up against corruption and violence.

Even more surprising is my reaction - one of pain and betrayal, instead of anger or rage. I fake my feelings as best I can, forcing a demeanor of agression forward to mask my deep seeded disappointment.

"You think I do this because it's a game?!" I growl, my eyes burning as I restrict tears. "You were there - the day I almost died! You don't think I know the risks?" I stop suddenly, realizing I've revealed my identity. Though, someone like Batman is sure to recognize me, anyway - as if he didn't already know.

 

[Batman]

Even more surprising is my reaction - one of pain and betrayal, instead of anger or rage. I fake my feelings as best I can, forcing a demeanor of agression forward to mask my deep seeded disappointment.

"You think I do this because it's a game?!" I growl, my eyes burning as I restrict tears. "You were there - the day I almost died! You don't think I know the risks?" I stop suddenly, realizing I've revealed my identity. Though, someone like Batman is sure to recognize me, anyway - as if he didn't already know.

Unphased by her outburst, Batman stared the girl down hard enough for her to flinch. With her admission clearly validating his suspicion that she had been Barbara Gordon all along, he had the clear advantage. And he was going to utilize it in whatever way that he could in order to get her to stop this. The bottom line was that, whatever passion she had garnered to take on the streets, she was too young to do it. And above all, she was still too much of a child to handle the darker aspects of this line of work. Whether she thought she could handle it or not, that night with Black Mask's men was nothing compared to the horrors that Gotham truly had to offer.

"If you're truly aware of the risks, then you'll know why I can't let you continue. This is my war to fight, and you're too young to concern yourself with it. Wear that symbol again and I promise that next time, you'll regret it."

With the air of his threat hanging between them, The Dark Knight turned his back to the teenager and leaped onto the ledge of the building. His cloak cracked against the wind, forcing Batgirl to step back, her visible rage building up with every second he was still there. But his mind was made up. Regardless of her intentions, Batgirl represented nothing more than the very opposite of what he had created The Batman to inspire. And being responsible for that wasn't something he could live with. If she wanted to throw herself into harm's way, she wasn't about to do it wearing his colors.

"Look, you-..."

"This isn't a discussion, Barbara."

And with that, he was gone. Disappeared into the very night that had bred both of them.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

No sign of LaMonica yet. MCU searches the top floor of the Ritz before heading up to the roof. Wedding reception in swing. We hide our guns and navigate through the party. Forks clink against glasses and talk stops.

"I'd just like to say a few words...."

Well, **** me sideways. Talk about keeping a low profile.

Everyone gives way to Salvatore Maroni, uncle of the bride. Sal stands up.

"Sofia may be my niece, but I feel like she's my daughter...hell, she's the closest thing I have to a daughter. I just can't believe she's all grown up and married. I just wanted to say a few words about family, familia. Sofie is going out in the world to start her own family, but no matter what, she'll always be somebody's little girl and my little niece. She can get divorced, I know I don't mean to jinx it, but she'll always be a Maroni! To Sofia, to life, to familia."

Everyone raises a glass. Eyes catch a familiar figure in the middle of the crowd. Johnny goddamn LaMonica with gun at his side. Navigate between tables, pulling my gun back out.

"Get down! Everybody get down!"

LaMonica pulls his piece. Driver comes out of nowhere and gets a hand on LaMonica's wrist.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Three shots go off in the air. Guests scream and scatter. Chaos ensues. Standing still in the riot, eyes locked on Sal Maroni. His eyes catch mine, stare each other down with cold hatred.

Crack a smile. Sal spooks and runs through the crowd.​

 

[Batman]

"Alfred, give me a status update."

In the week since his encounter with the self-appointed vigilante Batgirl, Batman's presence in Gotham hadn't been required - because contrary to reports that a gang war was brewing, the overall crime in the city had taken a slump in activity. Apart from a few attempted muggings across town, the East End smuggling operations had suddenly stopped per Salvatore Maroni's orders. Until three days earlier, Batman hadn't be sure of the reason. But the minute that Maroni's representatives announced the wedding of his niece, it all became clear. Ever since the murder of both sons, Pino and Umberto, Maroni had made a strict vow to never let his business interfere with family affairs. So for one night, and only that night, Gotham's top mobster had made it a point to become just that - a man of familial priorities above his criminals rackets.

The only problem was that due to the fact that Maroni's location would be widely known, the game had drastically changed. Suddenly, word was coming in from the underworld that every head of the lower level families had planned to make a play against the increasingly shut-in Maroni in some fashion, due to the fact that he had notoriously seized control over half of the drug trade. To be able to take him out would automatically gain leverage over the territories, and the opportunity to place their rackets at the top. Whether Maroni was oblivious to this going in was irrelevant - he had automatically put himself and everyone around him in immediate danger by agreeing to make the wedding a public gala. Even the presence of a high level, detailed security wouldn't be able to stop his enemies.

Which is why Batman had been monitoring the wedding for the past two hours. Given that the ceremony had been held on the rooftop of the Gotham Ritz, acquiring a vantage point to keep lookout had been the easy part of the evening. What troubled him was the fact that, halfway through the festivities, there had still been no attempts made on Salvatore Maroni's life. Either the security was simply that good, or someone was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

"I'm afraid there's nothing to report, sir. The hotel's security footage shows no sign of abnormal activity."

Keeping a sharp focus on the event through an infrared scope, Batman remained hesitant to leave. It still just didn't seem right.

"Just keep a close watch. Something will turn up."

"I still don't quite understand why you simply couldn't have attended the event in person. Bruce Wayne was given an invitation just this morning. And with Ms. Kyle's sudden departure from your case, last night, I figured at least some part of you would want to celebrate."

"Maroni and I haven't been on the best of terms, socially or otherwise. My appearance there just would've been an unnecessary distraction."

"Very well. I shall alert you if there's any..."

There was a pause.

"Something wrong?"

"In a manner of speaking. Your contact Edward Nygma has just arrived, and he's leading a small squadron of armed detectives into the building."

Batman avoided the mention of Nygma's name, partially due to the fact that he hadn't spoken with him directly since the attempt Maroni made on Selina Kyle's life a few months ago. Alot had changed, since then - notably Nygma's promotion to Inspector, following the career making arrest of the Holiday killer. If Nygma was here to arrest Maroni and his detectives could actually succeed in doing it, Batman's job would be over for the night.

"Beyond that oddity, everything seems..."

Another pause.

"Alfred?"

"Sir, shots have just been fired. There's a gunman in the lobby. It appears he's heading for the stairs."

"How close is he to the roof?"

"He's ascending fast. I would expect him there soon."

Seconds later, and three shots rang out into the night, bringing Batman's attention to an immediate focus. Maroni hadn't been hit, but he had narrowly avoided danger. The police were just arriving behind LaMonica, bringing the panic into a new height, as several members of the crowd - mob hitmen under Maroni's pay - reacted to mistaken belief that it had been the police that fired the gun. A shootout was now taking place on the rooftop of the Ritz Gotham. Dammit.

Even though he had been waiting for it since the ceremony began, the three shots fired in Maroni's direction had still come as an unwelcome surprise. Shortly before this began, Batman had just lowered his guard, thinking that the mobster had been given a break. But as predicted, the relatively peaceful atmosphere couldn't possibly last for the Maroni family. They had simply let things get too out of hand to be able to keep the other families intimidated anymore - especially Tony Zucco, the man who undoubtedly hired the gun that had managed to sneak past security. The only real question on Batman's mind was why Maroni's trained snipers hadn't spotted LaMonica's arrival.

"Stay on standby. I'll take over from here."

"Certainly."

As pandemonium waged on, Batman placed his infrared scope back into the pouch of his belt, and readied himself. He was perched atop a gargoyle that was roughly a block away from the building. An easy glide, but he'd need a distraction from the gunfire to allow the pedestrians in the wedding to leave as safely as possible. Removing a handful of smoke pellets from a tube in the belt, the vigilante realized it wasn't enough. Flash bombs would need to be utilized to blind the gunmen.

The Dark Knight had almost hesitated to keep watch over the ceremony. Whatever the outcome of all of this was, he didn't need to concern himself with it. Maron had brought it all upon himself. But in the back of his mind, he had realized a long time ago that Maroni's dealings didn't need to endanger the innocent lives he had forced into his line of work. With all of the men, women, and children that made up the large Italian family, Salvatore was the least of Batman's concerns.

These people had to learn that Gotham City wasn't their own personal playground anymore. And if that meant saving the life of a man he'd sooner drop off of Wayne Tower than lend a helping hand towards, then so be it.

Leaping off of the gargoyle, he spread his cape against the wind and tossed both sets of grenades into the crowd, blanketing the parties that were engaged in gunfire within thick black smoke and bright lights. As he approached the party from above, as a dark shadow eclipsing over the rooftop itself, he let out a crazed laugh that the criminals of Gotham hadn't heard in quite some time.

Here goes nothing.

 

[Eddie Brock]

SELINA KYLE

"Miss? Excuse me, miss? Waitress!"

It takes me a second to realize that someone's talking to me. I look down and realize that I'm still wearing the catering outfit. Beats the Hell out of trying to do this in high heels, though. I turn around to see what's the matter.

"I didn't order the salmon," the curly-haired man explains. He holds up his plate for me to see. "I ordered the chicken."

Emotionlessly, I respond, "Terribly sorry about that." I then walk away, hearing the frustrated man muttering something in a mixture of English and Italian. I slip between tables, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. I can see Nygma's men scurrying through the crowd, but I don't see--

"I'd just like to say a few words..."

Maroni. I duck behind a pillar as Maroni makes his speech. Hearing him talk, you'd almost be convinced he's a decent man. I even heard that he shut down all operations within the city in honor of Sofia's wedding. But I know the truth. We all wear masks, and this is his.

"Get down! Everybody get down!"

I hear the shatter of glass as Nygma knocks into a caterer. Then, shots ring out, and the party erupts. Security races to scene as Nygma's team attempts to seize control of the party. Maroni's men draw their guns from their tuxedos, and a firefight ensues. I draw my own gun and pop out from cover.

The rooftop is chaotic. GCPD officers are trying to subdue the hitman who started the shooting while Maroni's men, in the confusion, open fire on them. Wedding guests panic, some ducking under tables and some making a run for it. Someone's going to get hurt. I reach out and drag the nearest person to the ground.

"Stay down! Stay out of the line of fire!" I bark. I look down and realize that I just tackled the lucky bride, Sofia Andretti.

"...Holly?"

"Not anymore." I check that there's a round in the chamber and that my safety's off. I grab Sofia by the arm and push her under a table. "Stay here!"

"Where's Anton?!"

No sooner do I stand up than a bullet whizzes past my head. I duck, but not before noticing a dark silhouette descending upon the rooftop. I was wondering how long I had until you showed up. The flash bombs and smoke pellets dropped by Batman explode, and I shield my eyes and face.

I don't have time for this. I have to find Maroni before someone else does.
​

 

[MST3K 4ever]

The Atom floats back down to the city streets and lands at a nearby pay-phone.

She manuvers through the wiring and manages to get her phone back at her office to pick-up. The Atom then rides the current back to Gotham City.

The Atom climbs out of the phone and changes back to Rhiannon Palmer.

Rhiannon then calls Mac at Star Labs and says, "The job offer do I have your word that I would not be forcing LaMar out the door that he is leaving of his own free will?"

Mac replies, "Hold on for a minute."

A minute later Rhiannon's e-mail bell rings and Mac says, "See for yourself."

She sees a scanned page of LaMar's official acceptance of the Central City Job.

Rhiannon says, "All-right fair enough. I'll take it give me about 2-3 days to line up everything,and another 2-3 days to get my place set up."

Mac replies, "Rhiannon you won't regret this. It's nice to know that the lab will be in good hands when I leave, and I will not get in your way you can run it as you see fit. In terms of our history, it's exactly that history. I have already begun making arrangements to move probably Keystone city to be closer to my kids and Karen's kids as well."

Rhiannon says, "Thank you Mac. I won't you let you down."

Mac says, "I know you won't Goodbye Rhiannon."

She hangs up and contacts a moving company, and from there she lines up an apartment near Star Labs.

Rhiannon finally begins to compose her letter of resignation. Stating she feels more comfrortable dealing with a science lab rather than a corperation.

Meanwhile at Star Labs...

Mac places a phone call he says, "It's done she took the job."

Amanda Waller responds, "Excellent now we'll be able to keep a closer eye on her. Dealing with Wayne could've proven to be a pain in the neck."

Mac says, "Remember our deal I'm first on the list for the Rouban trails for the Alzheimer's drug."

Waller replies, "You will be number one I promise you. A deal is a deal. Thank you Mac."

She hangs up and says, "Number one with a bullet."

Waller places another phone call and says, "I'm sending you a profile. It needs to look like an accident. This guy has feelings for her still I can't afford to take the chance he'd jeopardize our operations...okay...in the next 24 hours...bye."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Central City, Missouri

I stand on a hill overlooking Iron Heights, cussing myself for not being here sooner. During all the chaos of the alien infection, there was a prison break in Iron Heights' Supermax section. Some of the people I put behind bars got out. I should have been here, but I wasn't. I guess even I can't be everywhere at once.

My phone starts vibrating and I tap the bluetooth in my earpiece.

"Yello?"

"Bart! Thank God. I've been trying to call you for an hour now. Your phone said you were out of range."

"Yeah. I've been at school, helping out with some of the damage from....whatever the heck happened."

"Okay. Well, I'm glad to here you're safe. Jay and I are helping out downtown. Call your mom and let her know what's going on. See you at home, son."

"See you. Be safe, Dad."

"Always."

I disconnect with Dad and give a last look at Iron Heights.

I should have been here, but I wasn't. It was either Central City or the world. I'd like to think I chose wisely.

I turn towards town and take off, disappearing into a streak of red motion.



​

***********

​

Keystone City, Kansas​

​

They all stood in the shadows of the basement, eyes centered on the man in the green pinstriped suit standing underneath a naked lightbulb. His name was Roscoe Dillon. Each and everyone of them owed their freedom to him.

"Welcome one and all. All five of you gathered here are very different. You each come from walks of life, each of you have taken the road less traveled and have winded up here. For all your differences, you are united by one thing: The Flash. You've each gone up against him and failed. Horribly. You tried to fight him and he bested each and everyone one of you....some of you more than once. Where each of you have failed separately, you will succed as one. You have all been cast out of society, lived on its fringes. You are society's bastard children, living like rogues."

Dillon reached over and flipped the basement's circuit breaker, the lights in the basement came on and revealed the people standing around Dillon.

Leonard Snart, AKA Captain Cold

Michelle Rory, AKA Heatwave

Evan McCullough, AKA Mirror Master

Axel Walker, AKA Trixster

Mark Mardon, AKA Weather Wizard

"The Flash has grown bored and complacent. It's time to throw him a curveball. Let's show him what us Rogues are capable of."​

 

[Spike_x1]

As the chaos erupts amidst the rooftop wedding, a fragmentation grenade--tossed from the construction site across the street--quietly rolls around the crowd's anxious footsteps as the Batman's smoke pellets send them into a fearful panic. With sudden explosive force, the grenade sends the surviving wedding guests into an even more severe frenzy than they were before.

Several loud sniper shots ring out in the night, taking many of the wedding patrons by surprise, and giving away the shootists' positions on the constructions site. Luckily, I found myself a suitable perch on an adjacent building's fire escape, away from the immediate action. It's not as ideal a location as the construction site was, but I will go unnoticed until I deem the time to be appropriate.

As much as it pains me to say so, Bruce Wayne's arrival on the scene is of secondary concern to me this evening. The original plan must be adhered to. Checking the Colt 1911 A1 pistol strapped to my thigh as my fallback weapon, I carefully load my primary gun and take aim.

Tonight will be Maroni's last night on this Earth.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Mob wedding turning into World War III. Bullets, blood, grenades, smoked and masked vigilantes. It's turned into a goddamn fiasco, and it's working beautifully.

MCU and mobsters trading fire while Batman tries to calm things down. Smoke just makes it worse.

Crawling under the tables, hiding from Batman and whoever may want to kill me. Have to reach Maroni. Peek out from the tablecloth, flash of leather. Custom made loafer. Look up, Sal Maroni right beside me. Pull my gun, aim. Oh, so close.

No, not like this. This isn't part of it.

Maroni runs, watch him duck and crouch in fear as he crawls towards exit. Piece of ****.

Holster my gun and crawl the other way. Gotta let him get away. Plan doesn't work any other way.​

 

[Batman]

From the moment he touches the roof, The Dark Knight finds himself lost within a sea of unbridled chaos. Bullets seem to pass him at every turn, with some striking into the plates of his armor, and others narrowly avoiding him as he carefully evades each blast through a series of dives and rolls. Switching his cowl's lenses to an infrared setting, the vigilante immediately goes to work on the front line of Maroni's men with a fury of batarangs. The trained marksmen each cry out in pain as their hands and faces are impaled by the razor projectiles, immediately giving Batman the tactical advantage. He tackles the first and largest to the ground, quick to send a hard jab directly into his throat. The thug gasps for air and rolls onto his back, indicating his momentary withdrawal from the fight. One less idiot to worry about.

Leaping into the air, Batman notices that the rest have began to realize his presence. Stealth is suddenly left behind once he rolls across the floor, striking his boot into another one's chest and sending his elbow into a second's jaw. One goes in for a poorly executed punch, which is easily avoided and countered with a twist, allowing the vigilante to snap the hitman's shoulder out of place and slam the armored portion of his cowl into the nose, breaking it into a stream of blood.

"Jesus Christ, somebody shoot him! He's gone-...!"

The panicked thug's words are cut short as Batman strikes him across the face with a carefully timed backhanded punch, followed immediately by a grappling hold that forms into a throw, tossing the thug into three others as they attempt to fire upon their attacker. Hearing another one approach him from behind, Batman spins and throws his shoulder back, knocking the thug off balance and allowing for a quick sweep kick that sends him into a nearby table. As if it weren't enough, another dives for him immediately, prompting Batman to strike him in the hip and kick him across the face, ruining one of the floral arrangements with his hard landing.

With the first few of Maroni's men taken care of, Batman sets his sights towards the police, still sending off waves of bullets of their own. As he reaches into his belt to try and produce pellets filled with a light mace, the chaos is interrupted by something completely unexpected - a small explosion rings out from the far left, sending most of the escaping guests flying. Eyes widened, Batman tries to scan the area for the source, only to be hit from behind and onto the ground by another attacking brute from Maroni's camp.

Dammit! Where did the blast come from?!

Pushing himself off of the floor as others are left panicked by the blast, Batman pushes the steel horns of his cowl into the brute's eyes, stabbing him deep enough to let out an accompanying scream. Grabbing both legs and wrapping them in a grip, the vigilante pulls forward, slamming the blinded thug hard onto his back. As Batman finally manages to make it to his feet, he locks eyes with a familiar face that jets out from behind a nearby table, clearly forced out of position by the force of grenade's blast. Selina?

Shots begin to fire again, forcing Batman to leap into the opposite direction. He didn't know what Selina Kyle was doing here, or why she was disguised as one of the caterers, but he wasn't in a position dwell, much less try and get her to safety. At this point, given the dire circumstances, she and everyone else were left to their own means of escape.

He just had to concentrate on surviving the moment.

 

[Saved]

Red Hood​

Arkham Asylum

Jason Todd mindlessly travels through a long corridor lined with offices as he makes his way toward his own. As he moves, his mind runs wild with thoughts about his latest investigation – Gotham Detective Dagmar Procjnaw. Outwardly, he explains his interest as merely a favor for a friend, but deep down, Jason knows his feelings are deeper. Romantic, no – but empathetic … well, even he isn’t sure. Dagmar’s rough exterior is not her own, but an emotional shield she wields to protect herself from pain. Shields aren’t forged overnight – no psychological vice is; something else haunts Dagmar, some dark memory she tries to forget, or perhaps, rewrite in the story of her life. All these concepts weave a fabric of curiosity that the psychologist in Jason refuses to ignore.

“Jason!” A feminine voice calls in glee, pulling Todd out of his mind and into reality. As he looks up from the floor, he sees Doctor Harleen Quinzel – fellow colleague and currently his significant other - approach him.
“Hello,” he says with a smile, leaning in as the two embrace each other for a brief moment. “What are you up to today?”

“Waiting,” she groans, leaning up against the wall behind her. “I finally got an appointment with Doctor Arkham.” Jason’s eyes widen.
“No … you got a hold of him?”
“Not yet,” she says irritated. “The appointment was at noon.”
“Two hours ago?” Jason questions as he looks to the watch at his wrist. “Typical … none of his aids told you he’d canceled?”
“No,” she begins, adjusting the glasses on her nose. “I got tired of waiting and went down to the cafeteria to get a cup of coffee. I’m on my way back to his office to see if he’s ‘available’ now.”

Jason puts his hands in his pockets, nodding his head for a moment as he thinks. “Rather strange, isn’t it?” He ponders.
“Jason, everything’s strange around here. Especially in the last couple of days,” she tells him, starting to move down the hall slowly.
“Oh?” He questions, walking beside Harley, keeping pace, as the two psychologists begin stepping down the hallway toward Jeremiah Arkham’s office.

“Last week one of my best patients had a relapse. He went mad, Jason. Absolutely mad.”
“What happened?”
“I’m not quite sure,” she says solemnly. “He became consumed with fear, worse than when he was first admitted. He destroyed his cell and nearly killed one of the guards during our session.”

Jason rubs his chin thoughtfully, “That is strange...” he says simply.
“That’s just the beginning. A few days later, the guard from the incident had a mental breakdown and was admitted to the east wing.”
“East wing? That’s maximum security.” Harley nods, pleased that Jason finds something odd as well.

“He tried to kill himself four times,” she explains. “He’s heavily sedated and under twenty-four hour surveillance.” Jason stays quiet as he intently reviews the information. The staff at Arkham, including security officers, is put through an intense screening process consisting of multiple physiological and psychological exams. For one of Arkham’s employees to have a sudden bout of mental illness is beyond abnormal.

“Has he been evaluated yet?”
She shakes her head, “Every time he’s off the sedatives he attempts suicide – no one’s had a chance so far.”
Knowing Harley as well as he does, he asks, “and your personal diagnosis?” Someone as informed and aware of their surroundings as Harley would no doubt have formulated an opinion about these odd events – a fact that Jason has not disregarded.

“It’s a phobia, Jason,” she says in a still, almost chilling, voice. “Of what, I’m not quite sure; but, somehow, he’s become stricken with fear, just as my patient.” Noticing the seriousness in Harley’s voice, Jason’s otherwise cocky manner is quickly culled. The two walk in silence for the next minute until they reach the double doors belonging to the office of Jeremiah Arkham. Harley knocks on the door, allowing a hollow echo to fill the hall. “Director Arkham?” She asks politely. “It’s Doctor Quinzel, we had an appointment earlier, are you in?” Her question is met with silence.

“This is ridiculous,” Jason grunts.
“How does he expect us to do our jobs effectively if he won’t even meet with us? Especially when we had an arranged meeting.”
“I know,” Jason says harshly. “Things begin to fall apart and Arkham won’t hear a word of it. Come on,” Jason says, putting his arm around Harley. “He’s not there…”

Harley and Jason begin walking back down the corridor, stepping rhythmically down the tiled hall. “You know what bothers me the most?” Jason says suddenly, speaking with brash honesty. “The fact that he’ll see Doctor Crane whenever he wants.”

“Well, he is one of the board,” Harley explains, trying to be non partisan.
“He’s the chief medical officer, he’s not a psychologist. Why does Arkham make time to meet with him, but not with the rest of the staff like you and me?” Harley shrugs, unsure of the answer herself.
“If it weren’t for Jonathan, I’d never get anything done,” she explains, her voice somewhat suspect. “He’s talked to Jeremiah about issues I’ve wanted to discuss with him personally. Doctor Crane is the reason I’ve gotten so much freedom to treat my patients the way I do.”

Jason frowns, “Why is everyone here so trusting of Crane?” He growls. “You, Arkham, even the janitors like him!”
“He’s a likable man, Jason. A little reserved and private, but who isn’t?” Jason opens his mouth to respond, but quickly stops himself, realizing the hypocrisy of his condemnation. After all, how could he criticize someone for being secretive?
“I don’t trust him, Harley.”

As Harley turns her head to respond, a loud blood curdling scream fills the air. As the two psychologists turn around, they watch the double doors to Arkham’s office burst open. The doors slam the walls to which they are attached, nearly tearing themselves from their hinges. A disheveled figure steps forth into the hallway, his hair standing on end, the glasses on his face dangling by his ears. The white coat on his torso is torn, while the buttoned shirt beneath appears ruffled and twisted. As Harley and Jason stare at the man, they quickly realize his identity.

“Oh my - is that?”
“Arkham!?”

As their eyes move down from the crazed man’s face, they see something terrifying clasped tightly in his hand. It is a .375 magnum, loaded and primed to fire. Jason quickly grabs Harley, throwing her behind him as he attempt to protect her. “Jason, what is-“
“Shhh,” he says, putting his hand over her mouth. “Stay quiet.”

Turning back to Arkham, Jason watches as the man breathes heavily – heaving his body back and forth with each breath. He mumbles incoherently to himself, shouting an occasional intelligible word. Jason steps forward slowly, hoping to close the gap between himself and the asylum’s ‘king’. “Director Arkham,” he starts in a peaceful voice. “It’s Doctor Todd. Are you alright?” Arkham snaps his head to the side, moving his gaze directly to Jason with a crooked expression. “Director?”

Arkham stares at Jason in silence for what seems like an eternity – his only noises the eerie wheeze of his violent breaths. Suddenly, Arkham whips his arm forward, aiming the weapon at Jason – pointing the barrel to his head. “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” He finally speaks, snarling like a ravenous beast. “STAY AWAY!”

Jason stops midway, holding up his hands as he tries to calm Jeremiah. “It’s okay, sir. I’m not going to hurt you.” Jason stares into Arkham’s eyes, noticing a strange glaze that covers his pupils. He notices the director’s dilated pupils, the contortion of the muscles in his face, even the saliva dripping from his lips. “What’s happened to you…”

“I said STAY AWAY!” Arkham screams one final time. Without warning, he flails his arm and pulls the trigger, sparking a deafening bang that echoes throughout the area. The bullet embeds itself in the wall, leaving a large hole in the aged brick. Before Jason can speak, Arkham fires again, and again – sending pieces of lead randomly through the air. Having no regard for himself, Jason charges Arkham, hoping to tackle him before one of his shots hits Harley only a few feet behind.

“NO! NO! NO!” Arkham shouts, firing his sixth and final shot. The stray bullet flies past Jason’s face and penetrates the wall to his left. A loud audible ‘ping’ sounds as the bullet makes contact with a gas line carefully concealed behind the wall. For less than a second the hiss of escaping gas can be heard, only to be drowned out as it quickly catches fire from the bullet’s spark.

In the blink of an eye, the area erupts as the pressure of the ignited gas collapses the hallway. Smoke and rubble fill the air as the floor crumbles, and Jason plummets down the hole into a dark abyss.

“JASON!” Harley screams as he disappears beneath the floor. “JASON!”

****​

 

[Spike_x1]

Two of my men on the construction site have already been killed by return fire coming from the wedding across the street. This early in the evening, those are acceptable losses, especially compared to those being suffered by Maroni.

More of my men come to lend their support to me on my building, away from the construction site where Maroni's thugs' attentions are currently being focused. Tonight will finally see the first step in my vengeance coming to fruition. Wayne's arrival will not deter me, although I would prefer his death to be under more ideal circumstances. Before I kill him, Wayne must recognize the full extent of what I've done and why I've done it.

As one of my people hands me a grenade launcher armed with tear gas, I momentarily put down my machine gun. I do in fact think that it is finally time to announce my presence.

"TONIGHT'S ATTENDANTS! I AM BANE! I HAVE MURDERED COUNTLESS NUMBERS OF YOUR PEOPLE AND LAID WASTE TO YOUR OPERATIONS! THAT COMES TO AN END THIS EVENING, ONE WAY OR ANOTHER!"

I'm aware of how broadly my last sentences might be understood by the people below, but they're meant for a certain caped crusader more than any other. I fire three canisters of the tear gas into the crowd and immediately drop the launcher to replace it with my heavy machine gun. "Fire at anyone but the Batman," I instruct my people. "If he is killed by any of you, I assure you that I won't be pleased."

As the firefight continues, I throw out my grapple line and swing over to the wedding. I strike one man in the back of the neck with my foot when I land, not knowing whether he was one of Maroni's hired gunmen or an innocent wedding patron. A lesser man would feel the weight of my firearm as I swing it in front of me and squeeze the trigger, reducing several men and women into red mist. Normally I would take my time to be more precise with my killing, but I have lost sight of Maroni and can't afford to scan the crowd as carefully as I would like to to find a single target.

I spray more bullets into the swarms of people running around me as they cough and scream from the tear gas that thankfully dissipates after a few seconds. That's when I see him fleeing the scene like a coward. Salvatore Maroni. Taking aim and pulling the trigger one more time, Fate becomes my enemy when I hear the click of an empty clip. Damn. Instinctively dropping the machine gun with a heavy thud and reaching for the pistol strapped to my leg, my anger reaches a boil when my hand is struck with a familiar object: one of Wayne's throwing weapons, arrogantly shaped like his namesake. My pistol skids across the floor, lost amidst the crowd, and I turn to finally look my nemesis in the eye.

"So you're the Batman, eh?" I feign ignorance, as I have bigger plans for you, Wayne. No need to tip my hand just yet. "I had thought you'd be taller."