The New Ultimate DC RPG

[Saved]

(BatGirl)​

Gotham Heights High School

Sitting at my desk, I look down at the packet of paper spread out before me. This is my last final – the one thing standing between the end of junior year, and summer. As I come to the last number on the test, I read it thoroughly, thinking of the correct answer before I even finish the question. Moving my hand to the scantron, I fill in the bubble for the answer – “B”. As I let out a long sigh, I drop the pencil on the desk and lean back, feeling a wonderful sensation of freedom.

“Alright, class,” the teacher says suddenly, causing all eyes in the room to look up and stare at her. “Time’s up. Bring your papers forward and stack them in the proper piles – then you’re free to go.”

“For the day?” A student asks. Rising from my chair, I move quickly to the front of the class room, slapping the papers on the teacher’s desk.

“For the year,” I say proudly. “See ya,” I shout, hastily moving toward the door and filling out into the hallway.

****
​

Minutes later, I find myself outside, filing through the hoards of students leaving the school and making their way home. Playful shouts and laughter fill the air as everyone begins to plan out the next three months. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a friendly face heading toward me – shouting my name loud to get my attention.

“Babs!” She says, pushing through the masses.
“Hey, Dawn, what’s up?”
“Summer, haha. How’d your finals go?”
“Okay,” I reply conservatively – even though I know I blew them out of the water.
“Yeah, I think I passed. I’m just glad it’s over.”
“Definently.”

“Hey, Amy and I are heading to Corpus Café – want to come? It feels like so long since we’ve all hung out – you’re so busy, nowadays.”
“Yeah, heh heh,” I chuckle, thinking about my ‘hobby’. “You know how things are.”
“True – that cop still following you around?”
“Officer Montoya? Yeah – but she’s taken a more covert approach, now. She’s still watchin’ and keepin’ tabs on me. I’ve just got a little more freedom than before.”
“Good, ‘cause you’re gonna need it! Amy and I have so much planned this summer.”
“Haha, great,” I tell her with a pleasant smile. “I can’t wait.”

****​

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Seconds tick by slowly, even slower than usual for me. Superboy is outside trying to fend off anyone who comes our way. Atom is floating through an alien monster, the size of Captain Cold's penis. Yep, it's that small. Why do you think he's so angry?

After an unbearable five minutes, I turn towards the other doctors.

"Any word from her? I'm going to go check on Superboy. Be right back."

Mac says, "Ok..." and then realizes Flash is already gone.

Atom asks, "Did Flash just leave?"

Mac replies, "Yes he's checking on Superboy. How are you doing Atom we're getting incredible readings."

She replies, "Other than I feel like I'm swimming through Jell-O with cinder blocks on my hands and feet and no real idea what I am looking at or for just another day at the office."

Mac chuckles a bit and says, "We are picking up increased functions near what would be the brain I guess."

Atom says, "Heading there."

She arrives to see a pulsating mass of light and tissue.

"Amazing just unreal the electromagnetic energy this thing is giving off is stagering, " She says.

Mac says, "Must have to do with their telepathic ablitites."

Atom replies, "Gotta be meaning things outside could get ugly very quickly. Wait a minute I...I..."

The Atom stops moving and is paralyzed.

Mac says, "Atom come in what's happened. Atom!"

Mac then grabs a pen and taps three times on the microphone.

The Atom screams, "AHHH! What what what happened?"

Mac says, "Get away from the brain area now!"

The Atom swims away and says, "It was so strange like I was asleep but with my eyes opened and I had no free will but only wanted to serve the creature."

Mac replies, "My theory at your size the mind might've though you were a new cell and tried to program you. Luckily at your size the vibrations snapped you out of it. We have enough data to work with get a sample and move onto one of the other subjects currently infected."

The Atom replies, "Got it Mac."

With that The Atom gets a cell sample and exits the opening where she entered. She floats over to one of the other victims and enters their body.
She begins floating around

The Atom says, "Mac I think we've got a problem. A big one. When the Flash gets back in the room get him on the mic."

 

[Byrd Man]

August 4th

The dark sedan glided to a stop next to the small house. Holiday put the car in park and sat there, looking at the house. His hood was gone. There was no longer a need to conceal his identity. Tonight, it was going to end.

Pulling a pistol out of the glove compartment box, the killer loaded a round into the chamber. This was no ordinary gun, it was the same gun Julian Day had used to murder his son all those years ago. Almost nine long months, his vengeance was about to be complete.

White Christmas. Two words that said it all.

He had refused to take part in the corruption of the Admin Narcotics unit, didn't believe in their choice to protect the mob's drug business while punishing the independent drug dealers who set up shop, and he had paid the price. His boy had been killed the day after Christmas. Someone's idea of sending a message. He had gotten the message alright, and almost twelve years later, his reply was ready to be sent out.

Day had been murdered because he pulled the trigger and murdered James.

Clancy O'Hara, Hamilton Hill, Jack Grogan, and Janice Porter all knew what was going on in the Narcotics unit. O'Hara was the squad's commander, Gorgan was O'Hara's supervisor and was appointed Police Commissioner after the bust, Porter was the ADA who prosecuted the drug arrests, and Hill, a law and order candidate, rode the White Christmas case to reelection as a city councilman. All three knew what Gordon's squad was up to, and all three turned a blind eye and reaped the benefits of the corrupt unit. They displayed apathy to the situation, and had to be dealt with.

Arnold Flass had been killed because he was a member of the unit, and had tried to force Holiday to join in on their corrupt dealings many times. Shortly before his death, he was preparing to tell Sage and Nygma everything he knew about the unit and possibly about Holiday. He was on the list, but his need to be silenced bumped Flass up to a higher spot.

Chuckie Sol, Pino Maroni, and Alberto Falcone were all killed to send a "message" to the Gotham mob bosses. All three had been the apple of their respective father's eyes. Pino and Alberto were always Salvatore and Carmine's favorite sons, and Sol was Grissom's illegitimate child, his only son it was believed. Holiday had sent them a message just as they had sent a message to him, murdering his only son in cold blood.

Now, only two names were left on the list. The two most important names.

Jim Gordon and Sarah Essen.

The two people responsible for the murder of his family.

Holiday left the car and walked across the street. The street light touched his face, showing it in the orange halogen light.

Michael Akins took the safety off the pistol and walked up the steps to the Gordon house.

Gently prying open the door, Akins walked into the house and crept through the darkened living room.

He quietly sneered at the thought of how easy it was to get in the house. Just a few months earlier, Gordon's son had been killed by Black Mask. The man hadn't even put in a security system for his house. He really believed he was untouchable. But tonight, he was getting touched.

The sound of screeching tires outside caught his attention. Nygma and Sage were here. No matter, they were too little too late. Opening up the bedroom door, the killer stared into the darkness at the sleeping forms of Gordon and Essen. Raising his gun up, Akins carefully aimed and prepared to squeeze the trigger.

That was when a darkened figure jumped out of the shadows of the bedroom and tackled Akins. The two men wrestled on the ground as the two detectives burst into the house. The noise of the struggle snapped Gordon and Essen out of their sleep. The Commissioner grabbed his service pistol, but the two intruders to his home were moving so fast that he couldn't aim.

"Don't you understand?! They have to pay! They took everything from me!"

"Not everything."

A crunch was heard and Akins screamed, holding his mangled, limp wrist in agony. His weapon sliding across the floor. Only allowed a moment of pain, the serial murderer was overcome by the dark shadow and silenced, rendered unconscious in an instant. At that moment, Nygma and Sage burst into the bedroom, with Sage in the lead.

"Police! Freeze!"

The four people in the room watched as the shadowy figure rose up from the beaten form of Michael Akins. Scowling at the detectives, the Batman turned and stared down the police commissioner.

"I could have let him shoot you. Remember that."

Before anyone could move, Batman was out the bedroom window and gone into the night. While everyone else had their attention on The Dark Knight's hasted exit, Nygma leaned down and clasped a pair of metal handcuffs around Akins' wrist. Quietly, he groggily awoke from his daze and looked up at the two detectives above him. The men that had solved one of Gotham City's most grueling murder cases.

"Michael Akins, you're under the arrest for the murders of Clancy O'Hara, Charles Sol, Hamilton Hill, Pino Maroni, Julian Day, Arnold Flass, Jack Grogan, Alberto Maroni, and Janice Porter."

Pulling the police lieutenant up by the cuffs, Nygma began to lead the killer away from the bedroom. His cold, distant eyes fell on Gordon and Essen.

And Holiday smiled.

 

[Saved]

(BatGirl)​

August 4th​

The clammer sounds outside my door violently wake me from a dead sleep. Springing forth, I instinctively move into an attack position - taking cover behind a chair in my room and eyeing my target. To my surprise, my room is empty, my door shut tightly - and I am still alone in the darkness.​

"Strange," I whisper, rising slightly from my crouched position. Suddenly, I hear voices down the hall shout - yelling loudly as more thuds hit the hallway floor.​

"Police! Freeze!" Police? What the heck is going on?​

Then, that's when I hear it - the familiar voice I'd recognize anywhere. It's deep, gravely tone a commanding presence - standing out from the other voices in the house.​

"I could have let him shoot you," he threatens sternly. "Remember that." ​

"Shoot? Oh jeez-" Without thought, I leap forward toward the door. I grab the knob and turn it hastily, ripping the door backward and lunging into the hallway after him, hoping to catch him before he disappears.​

"Batman, wait-" I cut myself off as I survey the hall. All I see are two police holding a man down to the ground - at the end of the hall, I see dad and Sarah slowly rising from their bed through the open bedroom door. Looking about, I notice the open window in their room - the drapes blowing softly as a breeze comes into the house. "D*****," I curse in anger, realizing he's already gone.​

As the officers pull the man to his feet, one of them begins to speak, "Michael Akins, you're under the arrest for the murders of Clancy O'Hara, Charles Sol, Hamilton Hill, Pino Maroni, Julian Day, Arnold Flass, Jack Grogan, Alberto Maroni, and Janice Porter."​

Akins, one of the Lieutenants? No, it can't be. As the man raises his head, I see his face - smile crawling up the sides of his cheeks. His face is unmistakeable - it's him, without a doubt.​

"What the ****'s going on here?!" I shout, approaching the two officers fearlessly.​

 

[Byrd Man]

Akins, one of the Lieutenants? No, it can't be. As the man raises his head, I see his face - smile crawling up the sides of his cheeks. His face is unmistakeable - it's him, without a doubt.​

"What the ****'s going on here?!" I shout, approaching the two officers fearlessly.​

Barbara Gordon: my jailbait dream queen right in front of me. Always watched from afar. This close up, she looks cuter. More of a kid than an actual woman. Only hate myself a little for liking that more. Sage butts in.

"Lieu-...Mister Akins tried to kill your father and step mother, Miss Gordon. He's holiday."

 

[Saved]

Barbara Gordon: my jailbait dream queen right in front of me. Always watched from afar. This close up, she looks cuter. More of a kid than an actual woman. Only hate myself a little for liking that more. Sage butts in.

"Lieu-...Mister Akins tried to kill your father and step mother, Miss Gordon. He's holiday."

Holiday - the serial killer who's been all over the papers for the last year, mainly for the 'eccentric' manner in which he carries out his hits. He's targets have all been high profile - making him public enemy number one in this city.

As I ponder the situation, the more I find the whole thing hard to believe. No, no way - Michael Akins is a loyal member of the force, no way he's Holiday - and no way he came to kill dad.

"Holiday's a cop killer," I tell the man aggressively, still trying to process the possibility that he's telling the truth. "He doesn't live with my dad, why would he want him dead?"

 

[Byrd Man]

Holiday - the serial killer who's been all over the papers for the last year, mainly for the 'eccentric' manner in which he carries out his hits. He's targets have all been high profile - making him public enemy number one in this city.

As I ponder the situation, the more I find the whole thing hard to believe. No, no way - Michael Akins is a loyal member of the force, no way he's Holiday - and no way he came to kill dad.

"Holiday's a cop killer," I tell the man aggressively, still trying to process the possibility that he's telling the truth. "He doesn't live with my dad, why would he want him dead?"

Sage marches Akins out the bedroom. Turn to daddy dearest. Kinda rode the brake over here. Praying to show up in time to catch Akins, but too late to save Gordon. Curveball. Batman saved him.

So close. Smile at Gordon.

"How about you ask daddy? He's got some answers that you might like to hear. Commissioner, we'll be down at Central sweating Akins. Feel free to join us."

Out the door and house. Back in the car. Sage riding shotgun. Akins in the back: smiling. Crank the car. Look back at Akins.

"You were so close, huh?"

Akins: smiling dreamily. "Doesn't matter. Whatever happens, I've already won."

 

[Andy C.]

Lex Luthor

The meeting with the Prime Minister had gone very well; after convincing him that my trademark Blue-energy source was in-line with his environmentalist agenda, the details were easy to fill in. England should be ready for LexCorp Blue conversion within the next six months.

Much sooner than that, in fact, once the Manhattan Project reaches its fruition.

My limo takes the scenic route through the city back to the Prime Minister's hotel, where he's dropped off just before a freak rainstorm hits.

...it's actually a little disturbing that such an intense rain could crop up so quickly; my patented L-RAD Doppler radar systems can pick up on and predict even the most sudden changes in weather at least thirty minutes in advance. To happen this quickly must be a major atmospheric disturbance...

My L-Soft AI wired into the limo's LED television informs me that the city-wide coating of smart-dust sensors have picked up a massive disturbance in Glenmorgan Square, detecting multiple priority targets.

I switch my screen to monitor the proceedings.....

....then the feed ends, several minutes having already passed. I watched the entire meeting, then completely forgot it had happened. Someone has tampered with my memories, with my mind....

....and that is one piece of Lex Luthor's property to which no one has access.

Before I can decide on a plan of action, the limo screeches to a halt, and there is a loud THUMP from the front of the car.

"Otis," I call to my chauffeur, "what's going on? Have we hit something?"

It's only then that I notice a crowd has gathered around the limo.

The way they're shambling towards the car, stumbling like they don't know how to use their own legs....like someone or something else is controlling them.

And on their faces....the things.....some sort of parasite? Obviously something very big is happening here, and I do not like being left out.

I slowly reach for the armrest by my seat, and press the button that unlocks a hidden compartment with a small but powerful plasma gun inside.

"Otis, I'm going to need you to keep driving," I say, my calm tone seeded with just enough urgency to let him know that I am deadly serious. "Otis?"

".....Sta'rro....."

.....whatever "Sta'rro" means--I can assume it has to do with the star-shaped parasites on the people outside--I think it is safe to say that my chauffeur is no longer in control of his senses.

The glass barrier separating my cabin from the driver's seat shatters, a plump and bloody fist smashing through it. Other hands begin to thump against the limousine, cracks starting to form in the windows. I'm surrounded.

As the thing that was once Otis begins to crawl through the broken glass, I aim my plasma gun at him and fire. The limo is bathed in a pale violet light as an arc of superheated gas blasts forward, incinerating the pudgy driver, and setting the inside of the car on fire.

There's a shattering of glass as a dozen hands batter down the passenger's side windows, clawing and grabbing at me. I fire another burst of plasma towards them, arcing it from left to right and cutting a wide swath that turns them into dust. Just as they flash into atoms, however, another wave of parasite-infected men and women shamble forward to meet them.

"I will not die like this," I practically spit before standing, bent over inside the limo, and use the butt of my gun to smash open the skylight. I fire another arc of plasma at the growing crowd of attackers, then climb up onto the roof of the car.

From here, I can see about a hundred more of these things converging on my location. There are others chasing down their own victims, but they slow to a stop and turn towards me when they see me. Apparently, whatever is controlling these people--this "Sta'rro" thing--must think I'm special.

I can't blame it.

I look down at my plasma gun and see the battery only has enough energy for about three more shots. I could hook up the personal energy cell on my belt to it, but that would take energy away from my emergency teleporter, which still needs another thirty seconds to charge.

By then, these things will have either infected me, or ripped me to shreds.

I scowl, and pull the energy cell away from my teleporter, hooking the extra battery up to my gun.

If I'm going to go down, then I'll make Sta'rro fight for it.
​

 

[Spike_x1]

As we prepare to leave the comfort of Earth behind, I watch Superboy, the Atom, and the Flash race off and wish them all good luck. My thoughts drift to Mom and Dad, and I hope they realized that something was wrong in Smallville without getting infected themselves, and retreated down into the storm cellar. They're surprisingly used to the idea of aliens and the like, so I'm relatively confident that they'd act rationally in this crisis, assuming that neither of them were infected by Sta'rro.

I take a deep breath and take off. I've been in space a few times, so it's not too disorienting and I know that I can hold my breath for a few hours at least. What worries me, though, is the lack of information we have to go on here. I have no real idea of what I'm flying into. Still, as Dad would say, it's time to go to work.

J'onn closed his eyes as he exited Earth's atmosphere. A few seconds before, there had been thinning clouds, and now...now there was blackness sprinkled with stars of brilliant white. He took a minute to take it all in. This place was suitable of his "last hurrah" as Jonah Hex would've said all those years ago. He had no idea how long he could last without oxygen; it would be a challenge to his physical nature. He was no Martian Doctor - he had no idea if it would leave permanent damage or not.

-Superman, Majestic; I have set up a telepathic field that should allow us to communicate in the vacuum of space -

J'onn sighed, a telepathic field was the thing garunteed to drain his stamina. If only they had communicators or some device. Maybe something to bare in mind for the future. If there was a future. His red eyes were drawn towards the eldritch horror just outside the Earth's gravitational field. For all he knew Sta'rro was causing havoc with the tides just by his presence.

-I suggest we move quickly. At the very least we can provide a distraction for our companions -

-That is one big starfish.- Flying at the giant monster at superspeed, I'm astonished that something so large can move so fast as one of its limbs snaps outward and swats me back. -Damn.-

 

[Byrd Man]

Mac replies, "My theory at your size the mind might've though you were a new cell and tried to program you. Luckily at your size the vibrations snapped you out of it. We have enough data to work with get a sample and move onto one of the other subjects currently infected."

The Atom replies, "Got it Mac."

With that The Atom gets a cell sample and exits the opening where she entered. She floats over to one of the other victims and enters their body.
She begins floating around

The Atom says, "Mac I think we've got a problem. A big one. When the Flash gets back in the room get him on the mic."

All's quiet on the outside with Superboy. Racing back inside, one of the doctors flags me over to his panel.

"Atom needs to speak to you."

I step up to the mic and punch it on. "Breaker, breaker. This is Speed Freak, trying to find Little Lady. C'mon back to me, good buddy."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Lex Luthor

The meeting with the Prime Minister had gone very well; after convincing him that my trademark Blue-energy source was in-line with his environmentalist agenda, the details were easy to fill in. England should be ready for LexCorp Blue conversion within the next six months.

Much sooner than that, in fact, once the Manhattan Project reaches its fruition.

My limo takes the scenic route through the city back to the Prime Minister's hotel, where he's dropped off just before a freak rainstorm hits.

...it's actually a little disturbing that such an intense rain could crop up so quickly; my patented L-RAD Doppler radar systems can pick up on and predict even the most sudden changes in weather at least thirty minutes in advance. To happen this quickly must be a major atmospheric disturbance...

My L-Soft AI wired into the limo's LED television informs me that the city-wide coating of smart-dust sensors have picked up a massive disturbance in Glenmorgan Square, detecting multiple priority targets.

I switch my screen to monitor the proceedings.....

....then the feed ends, several minutes having already passed. I watched the entire meeting, then completely forgot it had happened. Someone has tampered with my memories, with my mind....

....and that is one piece of Lex Luthor's property to which no one has access.

Before I can decide on a plan of action, the limo screeches to a halt, and there is a loud THUMP from the front of the car.

"Otis," I call to my chauffeur, "what's going on? Have we hit something?"

It's only then that I notice a crowd has gathered around the limo.

The way they're shambling towards the car, stumbling like they don't know how to use their own legs....like someone or something else is controlling them.

And on their faces....the things.....some sort of parasite? Obviously something very big is happening here, and I do not like being left out.

I slowly reach for the armrest by my seat, and press the button that unlocks a hidden compartment with a small but powerful plasma gun inside.

"Otis, I'm going to need you to keep driving," I say, my calm tone seeded with just enough urgency to let him know that I am deadly serious. "Otis?"

".....Sta'rro....."

.....whatever "Sta'rro" means--I can assume it has to do with the star-shaped parasites on the people outside--I think it is safe to say that my chauffeur is no longer in control of his senses.

The glass barrier separating my cabin from the driver's seat shatters, a plump and bloody fist smashing through it. Other hands begin to thump against the limousine, cracks starting to form in the windows. I'm surrounded.

As the thing that was once Otis begins to crawl through the broken glass, I aim my plasma gun at him and fire. The limo is bathed in a pale violet light as an arc of superheated gas blasts forward, incinerating the pudgy driver, and setting the inside of the car on fire.

There's a shattering of glass as a dozen hands batter down the passenger's side windows, clawing and grabbing at me. I fire another burst of plasma towards them, arcing it from left to right and cutting a wide swath that turns them into dust. Just as they flash into atoms, however, another wave of parasite-infected men and women shamble forward to meet them.

"I will not die like this," I practically spit before standing, bent over inside the limo, and use the butt of my gun to smash open the skylight. I fire another arc of plasma at the growing crowd of attackers, then climb up onto the roof of the car.

From here, I can see about a hundred more of these things converging on my location. There are others chasing down their own victims, but they slow to a stop and turn towards me when they see me. Apparently, whatever is controlling these people--this "Sta'rro" thing--must think I'm special.

I can't blame it.

I look down at my plasma gun and see the battery only has enough energy for about three more shots. I could hook up the personal energy cell on my belt to it, but that would take energy away from my emergency teleporter, which still needs another thirty seconds to charge.

By then, these things will have either infected me, or ripped me to shreds.

I scowl, and pull the energy cell away from my teleporter, hooking the extra battery up to my gun.

If I'm going to go down, then I'll make Sta'rro fight for it.
​

Doris is flying over Metropolis in a LexCorp chopper.

The pilot says, "Miss Zuel I've picked an energy signature from a LexCorp plasma gun about 20 yards south from our current location."

She says, "Alter course and get us there best possible speed."

The pilot nods and makes his turn.

Doris hooks herself up to a zip-line and grabs a headset.

She says, " I will grab him, and when I give the order haul us up a-s-a-p anything goes, and I will hold you and this crew responsible."

The crew chief nods as the pilot says, "Hovering over best possible location Ma'am he's not going to last more than a few more seconds."

The crew chief says, "Ready Miss Zuel!"

Doris flings open and jumps out into a free-fall. She stops aproximately 2 feet away from slamming on top of Lex.

Doris grabs his collar he turns as though he is ready to fire and then recognizes Doris. He nods and she yells into a headset, "GO!"

The two are quickly wisked skyward. They get into the Helicopter and she yells, "Back to the tower."

She looks at Lex and asks, "Are you injured?"

He shakes his head and says, "Status."

Doris says, "As of right now these parasites or creatures are sweeping over the globe. The tower is in level 5 lockdown we are the only ones permitted access otherwise no one else goes in or out. According to our "allies" within Star Labs they have a couple of them in stasis and are conducting tests using a super-hero who can shrink to microscopic size."

Lex looks at her with an eyebrow raised

Doris smirks and continues her briefing, "We should have real-time intell within the next 10 minutes. The bunker and fail-safe option are all online and in standby mode."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

All's quiet on the outside with Superboy. Racing back inside, one of the doctors flags me over to his panel.

"Atom needs to speak to you."

I step up to the mic and punch it on. "Breaker, breaker. This is Speed Freak, trying to find Little Lady. C'mon back to me, good buddy."

the Atom says, "Flash we got a major issue. ripping them off of people's faces isn't enough. It's a quick fix but not, for lack of a better term, a cure."

He asks,"What makes you say that?"

She replies, "The cells are basically mini-versions of the larger species that are on people's faces. The thing in space gives the overall orders to the face suckers, and they give the orders to the cells. The cells then carry out the orders. The cells though have telepathy abilites of their own which means they are still in contact with the big one in space. I learned this when I that thing tried to turn me into a cell. Our stasis lady will soon begin acting the same way as she did when she had the thing on her face without having one on her face."

The Atom takes a deep breath and says, "From what I can see right now in this person their brain cells aren't being destroyed but they are being rewritten and if enough of them get rewritten then their humanity will be gone forever. Basically once a person is infected they're screwed. We better hope the space crew can stop the big one."

She continues swimming and says, "Try and get the word out about what I discovered. I'm going to keep looking around I refuse to believe that we're gonna get wiped out like this."

 

[Byrd Man]

the Atom says, "Flash we got a major issue. ripping them off of people's faces isn't enough. It's a quick fix but not, for lack of a better term, a cure."

He asks,"What makes you say that?"

She replies, "The cells are basically mini-versions of the larger species that are on people's faces. The thing in space gives the overall orders to the face suckers, and they give the orders to the cells. The cells then carry out the orders. The cells though have telepathy abilites of their own which means they are still in contact with the big one in space. Our stasis lady will soon being acting the same way as she did when she had the thing on her face without having one on her face."

The Atom takes a deep breath and says, "From what I can see right now in this person their brain cells aren't being destroyed but they are being rewritten and if enough of them get rewritten then their humanity will be gone forever. Basically once a person is infected they're screwed. We better hope the space crew can stop the big one."

She continues swimming and says, "Try and get the word out about what I discovered. I'm going to keep looking around I refuse to believe that we're gonna get wiped out like this."

"Uhh, sure."

Stepping away from the mic, I try to figure out how I'm going to relay a message. Superman and Co. are in space, and I have no idea where Wonder Woman or Scary-Man are. Of all the places in the world they could be, to find them I'd have to be a...wait, that's it.

Mister Martian, sir. I know you're a psychic, so maybe you can hear this. Flash here, I'm with Atom. She's working on a cure and apparently the cure to stopping them is the big star thingy in the sky. Removing the face-suckers won't do any good, as a psychic link has been established with the host and the main entity in the sky.

The building shakes and rocks from something. Superboy might be in trouble.

Uhh, that's all for now. Gotta go.

I race out the lab and towards the entrance of the labs, hoping that whatever Superboy is up against, it isn't too much for both of us to handle.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

​

[FONT=&quot]Before taking off Jim looks off in the direction he just came. He uses his x-ray and telescopic vision to look in on Elijah making sure Jessica made it there, which she did. Good they appear to be safe for the moment. Hopefully they will stay that way.[/FONT]

I take a deep breath and take off. I've been in space a few times, so it's not too disorienting and I know that I can hold my breath for a few hours at least. What worries me, though, is the lack of information we have to go on here. I have no real idea of what I'm flying into. Still, as Dad would say, it's time to go to work.

-That is one big starfish.- Flying at the giant monster at superspeed, I'm astonished that something so large can move so fast as one of its limbs snaps outward and swats me back. -Damn.-

After watching Superman get smack by one of limbs Jim flies pass him and deliver a strong right hook to the same limb. After that one punch he looks at his fist, a little surprised at how tough it was.

( It's skin is pretty hard. I'm pretty It can take a punch.) Jim informs the others telepathically.

As he looked back at the others to notify them he didn’t realize that another limb was coming across in his direction.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Interrogation Room #1

Half the GCPD outside the door. Camera above our heads off. Akins and I sitting in silence. Holiday: hand-cuffed and smirking.

"You wanna tell me why you decided to go on a killing spree?"

"Sorry, Ed. I don't say a word until Sage is back in the room. He's been gone awhile Where is he?"

"Getting coffee."

"Naah. My attack on Gordon gives you enough PC to get into my house. He's there with other detectives, searching for any clue."

"Confident they'll find something?"

"Oh, I'm betting on it."

Pull my chair back, sit up, Stretching cramped legs. Door opens up. Murmurs coming outside. Sage walks in, black composition book in his hands. Slaps it down on the table.

"I skimmed through it on the ride back to Central. Care to talk about it?"

"Sure. It's my story."

"Your confession?"

"No. It's my origin story. The story of how I came to be."

Sage pulls out digital recorder, puts it on the table.

"I read some of of it. How about you fill Nygma and I on the whole story."

"I'd love to. Oh, in case you're wondering, I'm waiving my Miranda Rights. I know how cops in Gotham love to ignore the rules."

"So I've heard."

"So I've seen. Now about my story...."



​

Once upon a time, there was a noble, courageous officer of the law.

Our Hero. Our Hero was a dedicated husband and father, along with a devoted officer of the law. Our Hero had worked in a variety of units in his career with the police department. He had investigated murders, rode in the patrol cars, and even disposed of a bomb or two. His career was so good that Our Hero was promoted to Sergeant and given a new assignment. Help the Narcotics squad clean up the streets of Gotham.

Our Hero became part of a unit commanded by a fat and careless man named Clancy O'Hara. This man was close to retiring, and cared little for actual police work. The lazy O'Hara would come in late, leave early, and nap during the work day. Leadership of the unit was handled by O'Hara's second in command, an ambitious man known as Lieutenant Gordon. Gordon had his sights set high on a prominent future with him leading the way as Gotham's crusading knight. No knight's quest is complete without a faithful squire, and Sergeant Flass was that squire. Together the two men began their mission to lead Gotham into a better tomorrow. They started out with good intentions, but remember, children, the road to Hell is laid with good intentions. The two men cleaned up the streets through containment, protecting Gotham's mob drug dealers for a slice of profit. Along for the ride with our knight and squire was the plain princess known as Lady Essen. The three amigos' quest was working perfectly, with independent dealers being shut out of business by their efforts, and the mob containing drugs and crime in the city's less than desirable areas.

Christmas was approaching when the three approached Our Hero with a chance to join in on their containment measure. They needed one more person, and Our Hero was a far better choice than the rookie detective Grayson. Our Hero shook the three crusaders off, shocked at the deal they had made to the mob. Our Hero went to Captain O'Hara, who gave him a dismissive shrug and said it was best to leave things like this alone. Next was the Internal Affairs commander, Colonel Loeb, who patted Our Hero on the back and assured him he would do all he could to look into these charges. Two weeks and no word from Loeb lead Our Hero to go to Deputy Grogan, who told him to report it to Loeb. He even went to the Assistant District Attorney Janice Porter with suggestions about a DA inquiry. She simply said that all police matters were handled by the GCPD and IA. It seemed nobody cared about Our Hero's concerns. Although, Gordon and his two friends watched silently as all this went on. Wondering how far Our Hero would go to ruin their containment measures.

Two days before Christmas was when Gordon, Flass, and Essen set their careers in stone with White Christmas. Gotham's three families and our three officers working together to make sure an independent drug dealer was brought down. But the drug dealer didn't want to go down with a fight. He called on the help of Julian Day. Day's job was simple. He was to murder Gordon, Flass, and Essen to make things square for White Christmas. On Christmas Day, the hitman was ready to make his move when the mob stopped him short. Informing him that their protection with Gordon went both ways and the cops were off-limits. Not wanting to fulfill his contract, he asked if there was any other way he could send a message. The three crusaders had the answer. Send a message to Our Hero. Make his silence permanent.

December 26th was the day Our Hero would never forget. Our Hero and his wife were at the local grocery store, just a block down the road from their house. They heard the shots inside the store. Our Hero, wondering what was going on, ran in the direction of the shots. He was the first to discover the dead body of his eight-year-old son. The message had been sent. Our Hero never spoke again about the corrupt Narcotics unit and transferred out of the unit for patrol. Julian Day was caught and given manslaughter, a return favor from the GCPD for the help. Our Hero was never the same, and neither was his wife. The death of their only son had changed her. She grew more depressed with each passing year. On the fifth year anniversary of their son’s death, she tried to kill herself. Her first suicide attempt, but not her last. August 4th, 2003, the day her son would have been 15, she finally did the job. Sticking a gun to her temple, all it took was one shot. That was the day Our Hero decided to do something. Erasing his involvement with the Narcotics unit from the record books, he began working in the Homicide unit as their commander, learning all the tricks and tips on how to get away with murder. It took years of planning and debate. But on the day his son would have turned 21, Our Hero decided he would have justice for his wife and child.

Our Hero, Michael Akins, became Holiday.

"So you see, that's why it doesn't matter if I killed Gordon or not. I was kind of hoping you would catch me before it came to that. It's better this way."

"Why?"

"Instead of dying by my hand, Gordon gets to rot in a cell. I was silenced years ago, but this is too big to cover up. A GCPD Lieutenant kills nine, and people will want to know why."

"Who's saying we believe you?"

"You believe me. Both of you believe me. I wouldn't be in this room if you didn't believe Gordon and his pack of dogs were dirty. You followed the clues right to me. You're a damn good detective, Vic. I figured you'd catch me sooner."

"Could have made things easier months ago by confessing to me in your office."

"But where's the fun in that?"

"What about Loeb's death? Did you rig it to make it look like a suicide?"

"No. Not my style. You boys know my MO. No trinket, not on a holiday, and no ironic murder based on said holiday. He was on my list."

"John Grayson? Was he on the list?"

"No. Grayson was a rookie fresh off the beat. Gordon and the rest kept him out of the dark. He was with Narcotics for only a few months before leaving for Vice."

"Hamilton Hill. The rest of the victims fit into your story. Day killed your son, Flass was in on the hit. O'Hara, Grogan and Porter ignored your protests. The three mob guys to represent the three families that made it happen. Where does Hill fit into it all?"

"A few days after White Christmas, the councilman came in for a photo-op with the unit. After it was over, I asked him to launch an investigation into the unit. He looked at me like I was insane and then he marched off. He was using the White Christmas sting to get reelected. A few days later, my son was killed. The man was guilty of apathy."

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

"And that's what he was. A coward."

Look down at the recorder. Still rolling. Camera off. Official record of Akins' story lies in the recorder alone.

Head spinning. Angles on angles racing through my mind. Cutting odds. Chances of spinning this to survive.

"Nygma? You okay?"

"Gotta go."

Push out the door. Close it behind me. Wade through crowd of cop gawkers.

Have to find Gordon.

New plan. Work this Holiday thing to my advantage. Survive Gordon's wrath, and even prosper.

Have to find Gordon.​

 

[Eddie Brock]

District Attorney Harvey Dent

"Mr. Dent?"

Vernon is standing in the doorway to my office, but he's not alone. A sharply-dressed woman with shoulder-length brown hair stands at his side. She glances at Vernon, and he lowers his head before leaving. The woman then turns her attention back to me.

"Counselor."

She holds out her hand.

"Rachel Dawes. I've been selected to fill the Assistant DA vacancy," she announces, sounding every bit as official as she looks. "I wish it were under better circumstances, but I'm very happy to have the chance to work under you."

I eye her up for a moment before finally shaking her hand. "Glad to have you aboard, Miss Dawes. Where are you from?"

"Metropolis."

I smirk, even going so far as to give a little chuckle. "Well, I hope you can keep up, then," I joke. "We do things a little differently here than in the 'City of Tomorrow.' Gotham will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it."

"With all due respect, Gotham's reputation does not intimidate me," Rachel answers without missing a beat. She places a hand on her hip before continuing, "Metropolis' Suicide Slums produce some of the basest forms of human life imaginable. I think my court record will speak for itself."

"Spoken so confidently. Well, Miss Dawes, you might have a fighting chance after all."

***

"How did you meet the defendant?"

"We, uh, we met through work."

I turn on my heels and face the witness, Miss Francesca Rawlings. She was the receptionist at the office where the defendant, Rodney Barnes, worked. In a lot of ways, she's reminiscent of the victim, Tabitha Strickland: overweight, rosy cheeks, not a terrible face all things considered. She shifts uncomfortably on the stand as she awaits my next question.

"And you asked him to dinner?"

Ms. Rawlings blushes. "Oh, no. I'm too shy for that," she explains, embarrassed. Gathering herself, she continues, "No, uh, Rodney asked me out. About two weeks after we started working together."

Nodding, I ask, "How did the night go?"

"It seemed to be going well. He took me to this upscale diner. We talked and laughed for a few hours." She pauses to blush once more. "Rodney's quite the charmer."

"And what happened when it came time to leave?"

"Well, uh, I hadn't finished my dessert, so I asked our waitress to box it up for me." Ms. Rawlings frowns. "Rodney acted strange the whole ride home. He wouldn't look at me. He barely talked to me. He just took me straight home."

"Thank you, Ms. Rawlings."
​

 

[Saved]

Sage marches Akins out the bedroom. Turn to daddy dearest. Kinda rode the brake over here. Praying to show up in time to catch Akins, but too late to save Gordon. Curveball. Batman saved him.

So close. Smile at Gordon.

"How about you ask daddy? He's got some answers that you might like to hear. Commissioner, we'll be down at Central sweating Akins. Feel free to join us."

The two officers move off, escorting Akins down the steps and out the house. As the front door closes, the sound of a car motor rumbling to a start soon follows - and the screech of old tires spinning on the cracked asphalt as the car pulls away.

Turning backward, I face my father - looking up to him as I stare into his face. "Dad," I begin, placing my hands on my hips. "What just happened?"

 

[Catman_prb]

Jim got dressed hurriedly. Akins? It was Akins, of all people? The slimey, murdering bastard had been under his nose the entire time. White ****ing Christmas. That whole narcotics gig had been worth far less trouble than it actually had been worth. He buckled up his pants and staggered downstairs.

Turning backward, I face my father - looking up to him as I stare into his face. "Dad," I begin, placing my hands on my hips. "What just happened?"

"What does it look like happened? Someone just tried to kill me," Gordon said, grabbing his trenchcoat and his car keys.

 

[Saved]

Jim got dressed hurriedly. Akins? It was Akins, of all people? The slimey, murdering bastard had been under his nose the entire time. White ****ing Christmas. That whole narcotics gig had been worth far less trouble than it actually had been worth. He buckled up his pants and staggered downstairs.

"What does it look like happened? Someone just tried to kill me," Gordon said, grabbing his trenchcoat and his car keys.

I grunt in frustration - even now, he's being his typical self. I guess I should blame myself for thinking otherwise.

"No kidding - it also looks like one of your officers just broke into our home and tried to kill you. You want to explain to me exactly why that is?"

 

[Catman_prb]

I grunt in frustration - even now, he's being his typical self. I guess I should blame myself for thinking otherwise.

"No kidding - it also looks like one of your officers just broke into our home and tried to kill you. You want to explain to me exactly why that is?"

Gordon wrenched open the front door.

"Funnily enough, Barbara, I don't know. That's why we have these things called detectives. So, don't ever talk to me like that again, and go to bed," Gordon said through gritted teeth, lacy his words with just a little bit of his pent up fury.

 

[Saved]

Gordon wrenched open the front door.

"Funnily enough, Barbara, I don't know. That's why we have these things called detectives. So, don't ever talk to me like that again, and go to bed," Gordon said through gritted teeth, lacy his words with just a little bit of his pent up fury.

As a frown droops down my face, I let out an aggravated sigh - biting my tongue as I try to keep from saying something I may regret. "Yeah, like I'm gonna go to sleep after that." Storming back into my room angrily, I slam the door behind me.

 

[Byrd Man]

I check my watch again. Nygma's been gone for almost an hour. I look up and see Akins staring at me with a slight smile.

"What's so funny?"

"This whole situation. You cracked the case. It was your leg-work, but you let Nygma get half the collar. Why?"

"He helped out. He got me going down the right path that led me to you."

"And yet, he's out there right now. Cutting a deal to get more of the credit."

"Shut up, Akins. You're just trying to rile me. Find a pressure point."

"When you first came to Homicide, you worked in Lieutenant Childs' command shift. Nygma was a squad sergeant for me. You never worked with the man, so let me tell you something. Edward Nygma is two things: a brilliant detective, and a survivalist. Word in the department is that your partner pissed some of the higher-ups. Imagine if he's on Gordon's ****-list. You know what they did to me, and that was back when Gordon was a lieutenant. Now that he's the commish, he carries some serious weight."

"That was the past. There's too much light on him to do those kinds of things. He's too high up now to take bribes and kick backs from the mob."

"You think he was on the take?" Akins asks with a smile. "No. The money he was getting was tribute, it was rent money to operate. People think the mob has Gotham in a stranglehold. They're wrong. Gordon tolerates them, he lets them do their business. You want to know the city's most powerful man? It's not the mayor, or the mob bosses, or Bruce Wayne. The city's most powerful man sits on a throne two floors up, in his corner office over-looking the city from the 8th floor. Jim Gordon is the king, and we're all his subjects."

"Coming from a serial killer, that's down right eloquent."

"And true. Right now, Edward Nygma is cutting a deal that will leave you behind in the dust, Sage. He'll become a saint and on the fast-track to the big chair. Commissioner Nygma. Don't you love it?"

"No more talking," I sharply say. I turn away from Akins and look towards the interrogation room's door. Akins is full of it, but his words are starting to eat at me.

Parking garage, shaking cigarette in my hand. Take a long drag. Akins' words getting to me. The whole story laid out before me. Epic, tragic, sex, lies, drugs, and murder all in one tale....it'd make a hell of a book.

Silver unmarked pulls up in his spot. Door opens. Jim Gordon steps out. Walk out of the shadows, blowing smoke.

"Commissioner. I figured I'd get to you before you go inside. It's something of a nut house in there and we need to talk in quiet."
​

 

[Catman_prb]

​

Parking garage, shaking cigarette in my hand. Take a long drag. Akins' words getting to me. The whole story laid out before me. Epic, tragic, sex, lies, drugs, and murder all in one tale....it'd make a hell of a book.​

Silver unmarked pulls up in his spot. Door opens. Jim Gordon steps out. Walk out of the shadows, blowing smoke.​

"Commissioner. I figured I'd get to you before you go inside. It's something of a nut house in there and we need to talk in quiet."​

Gordon's eyes flashed.

"Fine," the Commissioner said "What is it you feel I need to know?"

 

[Byrd Man]

Gordon's eyes flashed.

"Fine," the Commissioner said "What is it you feel I need to know?"

"Akins is confessing. He's confessing to it all. The Holiday murders and why he did them. He says it's because of that crooked Narcotics unit you ran back in the late 90's. The guy you busted for White Christmas wanted revenge, so he he sent Julian Day after you. The mob pulled him off your trail and put him on another. A certain sergeant who was asking too many questions. Says Day killed his son and you got the killer's charge bumped down to manslaughter as a return favor. We've got it all on tape. Any truth to it?"

 

[Catman_prb]

"Akins is confessing. He's confessing to it all. The Holiday murders and why he did them. He says it's because of that crooked Narcotics unit you ran back in the late 90's. The guy you busted for White Christmas wanted revenge, so he he sent Julian Day after you. The mob pulled him off your trail and put him on another. A certain sergeant who was asking too many questions. Says Day killed his son and you got the killer's charge bumped down to manslaughter as a return favor. We've got it all on tape. Any truth to it?"

Gordon sighed and looked Nygma up and down. He was definately getting far too old for this.

"Yeah," Gordon said "That's exactly what happened,"

Nygma didn't even have the decency to look surprised.

"So are you taking my job offer?