The "Ultimate DC" RPG

[twylight]

IC: Bruce Wayne



I can't believe I'm actually tolerating this. If it were any other circumstance... if I had less to lose... Falcone wouldn't have made it through the front door. Much less the dining hall. Sometimes I wonder if I should've even come back to this... Maybe I should've made the world think Bruce Wayne was dead, and operated as Batman for the rest of my days.

...

No. I couldn't do that. I know it's not what my parents would've wanted. Whether I like it or not, I'm stuck here. Watching a monster delve into conversation with a man I actually considered to be a corperate partner. I'm being tortured, even if it isn't that obvious.

I watch Falcone as he responds. He takes a sip of his drink while subtly stroking his tie, seemingly carefree of everything. I've never more wanted to beat the smug off of his face until n-

...Wait. Stroking his tie? No. He wasn't stroking it. He was... tapping it. Fixing a pendant on it. One with the Falcon logo he places on his italian shoes. I raise an eyebrow. Something about that isn't right. No one else would've caught it... But no one else in this room probably has the trained eyes of african bowmen to add to their resume of skill.

"Ah, the infamous Luthor wit. How I've missed that.", He responds. "Or rather, my family has. It and the Luthors are little concern to me these days. What, with winged vigilantes and Nazi flying men roaming the streets. It's almost as if they were spawned to meddle in certain... affairs."

Falcone's up to something. And I'm going to find out what it-

"Rachel."

I turn, seeing someone whisper something into Rachel's ear, from the side.

Wait. Wait just a minute. That's... Oh no. Phantom of the opera... Dent... He's still here. Before I can even move to do anything about it, He stops, and looks at me. It's definatley Dent. I recognise the uncovered side of his face from the case files I looked though. I have to say something. Have to acknowledge him, expose him... Get him away from here and away from my guests. But the words don't come out as he speaks.

"I enjoyed the party Mr. Wayne."

I blink, once, as he turns and leaves. Turning to Rachel, her expression is of obvious fear, as her eyes never leave Dent. What did he say to her?

"What did he-"

I look back, seeing as Dent leaves through the front door, stopping me in my sentance. Damn it. He's leaving. And the party hasn't even wound down yet. I've lost him again.

I turn to Rachel, who's still more than a little shaken by Dent's approach. I should probably lead her out of here... Being amongst everyone like this isn't the best for her right now. That, and I need to find out what Dent told her. It could provide a nessacary key in stopping him. If he told her anything vital.

I turn, heading for the stairs to the top floor, Rachel on my arm. She looks at me, questionably.

"What are you-"

I look back at her.

"Getting you out of here. You need to be alone. I... can understand the feeling.", I respond.

She halfway smiles at me, as we continue forward. All I can hope is that nothing goes...

*CRASH*

...wrong.

I close my eyes. I know I should look back. I'm just not sure if I want to. It was enivitable that something go wrong tonight... But I didn't expect it to be quite as loud. I shouldn't look back. But my body beats out my mind as I turn, eyebrow raised, as what I can only describe as a blur of yellow and red leaps into the room.

"I'm Robin Leech and welcome to Life Styles of The Rich and Famous! Today were touring statley Wayne Manor were Bruce Wayne live-"

What... in god's name...

I turn to Alfred, who's near me. His eyes are locked on our new intruder, as the dinner plate slips out of his hands, somewhat breaking the overwhelming silence that is placed throughout the room.

"Unless you hired entertainment without my consent, Get security.", I say.

Alfred nods, though his eyes are still wide, never taking them off of the obviously insane person who just entered. If it's even a person. I sigh to myself, walking forward as I go to greet this person, leaving Rachel behind me. I'm sure she'll be alright for now. I just need to have a word with our more than likely uninvited guest.

First, Falcone. Then Dent. Now this... Creeper, as he calls himself. Usually, I'd be in far more control of situations transpiring in my home... but even I have to ask, as this point...

What the hell is going on?

Jason literally coughs on the sip of drink he has as we turn toawrds the...funny looking man. I know sounds totally like a snobby british lady, but it's the only way I can explain it.

In a way I'm glad her burst in just now, I was about to shrivel up and die under Josh's accusational stare, one that I deserved. Helena started laughing and I rolled my eyes. Does she ever have a brain?
Eh, that's not totally true she's very smart but still. Jason's arm drops lightly to his side ready for action, I look up from my place next to his side and notice his face is almost begging for something to happen.

I don't think grand parties are a great date idea for us two.

 

[Andy C.]

"...so...you're sure the tests are accurate?"

It was the first thing he said in nearly two minutes. He was seated in an uncomfortable chair, hunched over with his head in his hands as the younger doctor, a twenty-something brat who no doubt coasted through medical school, gave him news that shattered his entire life.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but we've checked the results time and time again, and they all point to the same conclusion."

He didn't even look at the doctor, staring a hole in his shoes as he cleared his throat.

"So....how long do I have left?"

"Six months, maybe eight. I wish there was more we could do, but....I...I'm so sorry."

"Don't be; it's not like you did this to me. It just sort of...happens, I suppose."

With that, he picked up his coat, slicked back his thinning hair, and did his best to hold back tears as he made his way out of the office to his car.

Six months....six months...

Six months ago he was one of the world's leading researchers into nano-technology, a key member of a Metropolis think-tank that was on the verge of getting a contract with S.T.A.R. Labs. They had come so tantalizingly close to creating a whole new generation of nanites, which would have advanced medical and communications technology by over a century.

Then, the firm was bought out by LexCorp, his trustees abandoned him, and he was ruined.

And in six months' time, he would be dead from the very same cancer that his designs were meant to cure.

As he got into his car, he found that he could not bring himself to start the ignition, to head back to the campus, to lecture those ungrateful students who always slept through his lesson plans. He could not go home to an empty apartment, to check his answering machine for messages from friends who'd stopped calling months ago. It was all meaningless, it was all gone in six months.

Professor Milton Fine sat in the park and cried for nearly an hour.

--------------------------

Hundreds of miles up, a small object had just entered the stratosphere. It went relatively unnoticed by NORAD, SETI, and a million other institutions with their eyes pointed skywards, as its onboard cloaking device rendered it stealth to such inferior technology. As the object broke through the clouds and sped towards Earth, it emitted a signal, scanning the planet for compatible life forms. Once it had found what it was looking for, it transmitted a message.

-------------------------

Later that night, Milton Fine dreamed of a perfect tomorrow. And buried in that dream were the means of creating it.

 

[Spike_x1]

Peter sat in his large comfy chair in his living room, reading the newspaper and contemplating the day's earlier discoveries when his wife silently crept up behind him and lovingly wrapped her arms around him and kissed his cheek, surprising him.

"I take it work was just as thrilling today as it was yesterday?" she asked.

Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly. "Oh yeah, same old, same old." He folded the newspaper and put it aside. "United Broadcasting is still going down the toilet, and everyone's still looking to me to find a way to use our new project to save everyone's sorry asses from having to stand in the unemployment line." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I mean, sure, I could always just get a job for one of Lexcorp's media branches, but I actually like working for United. Yeah, it's a lot of responsibility right now, but once the company picks back up and things go back to the way they were before, it'll be clear sailing and we can go on that vacation."

Delilah sat across Peter's lap and kissed him again, this time with slight concern in her eyes. "So you really were serious about going to the Caribbean when this is all over." More of a statement than a question.

"Yeah," Peter held his wife closer, "we just have to get over these last few hurdles at the company, and then--" he stopped talking when he saw his son, David, approaching them with the cordless phone in his hand.

"Dad, it's some guy at United Broadcasting. He says that something really bad's happened."

Delilah hopped off of her husband's lap as he stood up and accepted the phone and held it to his ear. "Yes?"

"Peter?" the voice on the other end sounded almost frightened.

"Yeah, it's me. What's wrong?"

"Pete, we've got a huge problem. The rock's gone! Someone stole it!"

It was midnight by the time Peter arrived at the lab, and saw all of the worried expressions on his staff's faces. They knew that the black rock was probably their last chance at bringing United Broadcasting out of its debt, making a profit, and saving their jobs. Not one staff member could bring themselves to meet Doctor Silverstone's eyes.

After almost a full minute of awkward silence and heavy, worried breathing, Peter finally spoke, "Show me the security tapes."

Arnold, the lab's head of security, stepped forward nervously. "We... we don't have any tapes, Peter."

Silverstone looked at Arnold with a mixture of concern and puzzlement. "What the hell are you talking about?" He gestured towards a security camera positioned directly above him. "Then what the hell are those goddamn cameras for?!" he exclaimed, his growing anger quite obvious.

The people in the room, watching the conversation, could almost see Arnold growing smaller as he spoke to his boss. "It-it's not that, Pete. The cameras were working fine. Someone hacked into the database and wiped out the videos. I've got our best guys working on recovering the footage, but they tell me that it doesn't look good. They don't think that there's anything left to recover, but they're not giving up yet."

***************​

Peter Silverstone gave everyone the day off, with the exception of the security staff and a few key technicians. With the rock missing, there was simply nothing for most of his employees to do, so he wanted them to enjoy what would probably be their last days on United Broadcasting's payroll. Peter even suggested using the day to clean out their desks and start handing out resumes.

When he got back home, David was still at school for the day, and Delilah was watching her soap operas. She had tried to welcome him home with comfort, knowing that things were getting rougher and rougher at the office, but Peter brushed her off, telling her that he needed to be alone. He made his way into his study, locked the door, and turned on the small television set for background noise. A sigh of both relief and worry came in the same breath as Peter opened his small office safe and pulled out the black rock. The way that the stone seemed to take in the light around it never ceased to be pleasantly hypnotic and soothing for him. Nevertheless, Peter knew that stealing the rock and erasing the security video was wrong, but he just felt that the rock rightfully belonged to him. He knew that he could put it to better use than simply redirecting radio waves, air waves, and God knows whatever else the company would use it for. The rock had a much greater purpose than that, and Peter Silverstone was the one meant to put it to proper use.

But how?

That was when Peter noticed, out of the corner of his eye, a snippet of news footage pertaining to the so called 'Superman' from a while back, when he fought an armored assailant on Lex Luthor's yacht and the nearby docks. The words being spoken by the reporter on the television were drowned out from Peter's perspective as he realized how he should use the stone.

 

[Byrd Man]

The partygoers stare at Jack with gaping jaws and curious faces, Three security guards surrond him and one is brave enough to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay buddy, Your out of here."

"B%tch, Saywha?""

He grabs the guard by the hair and pulls him over his head and slams him onto the floor, the other two makes there move.

"Oh, we got some wise guys, Eh?"

Doing his best Moe impression he pokes his fingers into their eyes, grabs them by the back of the skull and slams the two guards heads together. He summersaluts through the air and lands next to Bruce Wayne.

"So, Brucey Poo. How are the parents doing these days?"

 

[Batman]

IC: Carmine Falcone

"Ahh yes, I heard the infamous Lil' Carmine had split off from his family. Separation runs in both our families."

I remember what he said.

"So does a hatred for Ubermensch."

~Luthor, we heard some electrical interference. Probably another frequency. Over~

Another frequency? I see a reporter, could be his. But I'll play the hunch.

"Carmine, Carmine, you don't trust me do you?"

Luthor's charm and demeanor are quite skilled. Very practiced. He would almost... have to be, in order to survive in our shared profession. And while he tries his best to face the crowds with a certain level of confidence and innocence... He is fooling no one. Especially not me. For I know the true Lex Luthor.

He thinks I don't know that he's playing us all for fools. Thinks of me, The Roman of Gotham, a fool. But Alexander has a certain overestimate in his own intelligence. While he relies on his own cunning to win this day, I jam his own predictable frequency with a counter. I am no fool. I'm just surrounded by them.

"I do not think the question is whom I trust, Lex.", I say, taking a sip of Wayne's rather cheap wine. "Everyone knows that it is bad policy to trust anyone. The Falcone's took this policy to heart. Even within itself, which is why we have unfortunatley... divided, amongst this land of commoners."

I stroke my tie again, placing my ring finger onto the diamond pendant. It further delays and manipulates his signal, biding for all of the time I need.

"But rather, I believe the question is whom anyone can trust, in this day and age. People grow older. Wiser. Or in our case, richer. And with time, there comes both greater excellence and... greater insolence.", I continue, making sure he's getting the point. He should. For it may very well teach him to be more... cautious, when trying to insult my own intelligence. "The true test of which is whom one trusts. And whom one doesn't."

I smirk, narrowing my eyes.

"I guess what I ask is a bit more simplistic. Would trusting you, Lex, bring forth that excellence? Or insolence?"

Luthor's charm and demeanor are quite skilled. But Luthor's charm and demeanor can only bring him so far. And quite not far enough to set foot on The Roman's territory, I'm afraid.

IC: Bruce Wayne

The partygoers stare at Jack with gaping jaws and curious faces, Three security guards surrond him and one is brave enough to lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay buddy, Your out of here."

"B%tch, Saywha?""

He grabs the guard by the hair and pulls him over his head and slams him onto the floor, the other two makes there move.

"Oh, we got some wise guys, Eh?"

Doing his best Moe impression he pokes his fingers into their eyes, grabs them by the back of the skull and slams the two guards heads together. He summersaluts through the air and lands next to Bruce Wayne.

"So, Brucey Poo. How are the parents doing these days?"

I raise an eyebrow. I'm not exactly sure of who or what this person is. But considering he not only broke into my home uninivted, assaulted my hired staff, and harrassed my guests... but also showed a very clear and blatant disrespect for my parents... We're not on good terms. By any means.

But at the risk of doing something I'd regret, I decide to ignore it the best I can. Keep focused on him and not his actions or his words. Play it simple. Play it calm, collective. Like my father did in the face of any who had insulted or tested both his morals and his values. Maybe that's why so many people admired my father...

"I'm afriad Mr... Creeper, as you referred to yourself earlier... that you're at the wrong house.", I calmly begin. "Now, I'm sure you intended to arrive here, tonight. But when I say you're in the wrong house... I mean that you targeted the wrong party. This is a private event, as you can see.", I continue, gesturing around the room.

"You weren't invited. So I'm asking you to leave.", I say, with a smile. "Maybe I could even arrange to send you out with a nice bottle of Scotch."

I don't think this particular event warrants the attention of the police. At least, not yet. And it certainly doesn't warrant the intrusion of The Batman.

At least, not yet.

 

[Byrd Man]

IC: Bruce Wayne



I raise an eyebrow. I'm not exactly sure of who or what this person is. But considering he not only broke into my home uninivted, assaulted my hired staff, and harrassed my guests... but also showed a very clear and blatant disrespect for my parents... We're not on good terms. By any means.

But at the risk of doing something I'd regret, I decide to ignore it the best I can. Keep focused on him and not his actions or his words. Play it simple. Play it calm, collective. Like my father did in the face of any who had insulted or tested both his morals and his values. Maybe that's why so many people admired my father...

"I'm afriad Mr... Creeper, as you referred to yourself earlier... that you're at the wrong house.", I calmly begin. "Now, I'm sure you intended to arrive here, tonight. But when I say you're in the wrong house... I mean that you targeted the wrong party. This is a private event, as you can see.", I continue, gesturing around the room.

"You weren't invited. So I'm asking you to leave.", I say, with a smile. "Maybe I could even arrange to send you out with a nice bottle of Scotch."

I don't think this particular event warrants the attention of the police. At least, not yet. And it certainly doesn't warrant the intrusion of The Batman.

At least, not yet.

"Oh don't worry, Brucey Poo. My buisness is with The Roman. I'm after him."

He looks around the room and see's Dinah Lance.

"Or her."

Jack frog leaps over Bruce and lands comfortabley next to Dinah Lance.

"Well hello there, pretty lady. You know your a lot more beautiful in the Ultimate DC RPG than in the regular one. Mybe it's because your younger. "

He throws her a wink.

 

[twylight]

"Oh don't worry, Brucey Poo. My buisness is with The Roman. I'm after him."

He looks around the room and see's Dinah Lance.

"Or her."

Jack frog leaps over Bruce and lands comfortabley next to Dinah Lance.

"Well hello there, pretty lady. You know your a lot more beautiful in the Ultimate DC RPG than in the regular one. Maybe it's because your younger. "

He throws her a wink.

Jason tenses next to me and I look at this...strange little man...with obvious caution. For a moment it's like the world opened up and something far larger rushed at me but It was gone in a second.

What the hell is he talking about? My first instinct is to toss him over my arm in a classic judo move. However in this company I dout it would be appreciated.

So I smile and turn the charm on, I'll play his game.

"And you? You must be uglier there to." I said with a wink.


OOC Also Dinah in the Main RPG is physically only 5 years older than her UDC counterpart.

 

[batnkevlar]

IC: Carmine Falcone



Luthor's charm and demeanor are quite skilled. Very practiced. He would almost... have to be, in order to survive in our shared profession. And while he tries his best to face the crowds with a certain level of confidence and innocence... He is fooling no one. Especially not me. For I know the true Lex Luthor.

He thinks I don't know that he's playing us all for fools. Thinks of me, The Roman of Gotham, a fool. But Alexander has a certain overestimate in his own intelligence. While he relies on his own cunning to win this day, I jam his own predictable frequency with a counter. I am no fool. I'm just surrounded by them.

"I do not think the question is whom I trust, Lex.", I say, taking a sip of Wayne's rather cheap wine. "Everyone knows that it is bad policy to trust anyone. The Falcone's took this policy to heart. Even within itself, which is why we have unfortunatley... divided, amongst this land of commoners."

I stroke my tie again, placing my ring finger onto the diamond pendant. It further delays and manipulates his signal, biding for all of the time I need.

"But rather, I believe the question is whom anyone can trust, in this day and age. People grow older. Wiser. Or in our case, richer. And with time, there comes both greater excellence and... greater insolence.", I continue, making sure he's getting the point. He should. For it may very well teach him to be more... cautious, when trying to insult my own intelligence. "The true test of which is whom one trusts. And whom one doesn't."

I smirk, narrowing my eyes.

"I guess what I ask is a bit more simplistic. Would trusting you, Lex, bring forth that excellence? Or insolence?"

Luthor's charm and demeanor are quite skilled. But Luthor's charm and demeanor can only bring him so far. And quite not far enough to set foot on The Roman's territory, I'm afraid.

I smile at Falcone. He's good. It makes me wonder why I'm not doing business with him.

"Excellence is the only certainty with LuthorCorp."

I finish my martini.

"And insolence is only bred through narrow-mindedness and conceit."

I start to walk towards the front door.

"Stay where you are if the name Carmine Falcone is synonomous with narrow-mindedness and conceit. Follow me if you can see the future inches away from your outstretched fingertips."

 

[The Question]

Lois grabs me by the arm.

"C'mon, Clark. Let's get out of here."

"But the party..."

"...has already been crashed by two crazy homeless guys. We've gotten all the story that's going to be worth reporting tonight."

"Good point. I always feel uneasy at these fancy parties anyway."

We make our way out of the mansion. Once we get outside we are, naturally, unable to get a cab, so we start walking into the city. This is followed by about twenty minutes of rather cold silence. I try to start up a few conversations, but Lois shoots me some rather weird looks.

She and I are going to get along great.

We finally get back into the city, and Lois starts trying to hail a cab. I take a look around. Gotham is very different from Metropolis. Unlike Metropolis, Gotham never really had anyone like Lex Luthor to pull it up from obscurity and make it into the vaguely sci-fi landscape the city has become. Gotham, from what I've gathered, hit a decent sized economic depression about 50 years back, and organized crime stepped in to pick up the peices. The Wayne family did a good deal in helping the community, but then we all know what happened to them.

Suddenly, a news report on a TV in the window of a store behind me catches my ear.

"...and it seems that the volcano has suddenly become active again. Evacuation plans have gone underway, but with only a few hours estimated to remain befor ethe volcano errupts, it seems unlikely that..."

That's happening on the other side of the country. Only a few hours.


I can make it.


I duck into an alley and shoot up into the sky. As I leave the city, I can faintly hear Lois.

"...Clark?"

 

[Byrd Man]

Jason tenses next to me and I look at this...strange little man...with obvious caution. For a moment it's like the world opened up and something far larger rushed at me but It was gone in a second.

What the hell is he talking about? My first instinct is to toss him over my arm in a classic judo move. However in this company I dout it would be appreciated.

So I smile and turn the charm on, I'll play his game.

"And you? You must be uglier there to." I said with a wink.


OOC Also Dinah in the Main RPG is physically only 5 years older than her UDC counterpart.

OOC: Party pooper.


Jack smiles a twisted grin.

"You know what they say, darling. Once you go yellow their ain't no other fellow."

Jack slaps Dinah on the butt and runs off in a manical blur, heading past an angry Lex Luthor and picking up Carmine Falcone.

"Sorry their, Kojack. Carmine is mine, You can spend the rest of the night polishing that dazzling white cueball of yours."

Jack runs off towards the fron door with Carmine screaming and pounding on his back. He stops and grabs Dinah by the waist, dips her and lays a sloppy, wet kiss on her lips.

"You can keep that gum, baby."

He turns and looks at the rest of the partygoers.

"People of Gotham, I think Frank Miller wrote it best in Batman: Year One. As of right now...None of you are safe. Enjoy the party, tip the servants and give my best to mommy and daddy Brucey."

And with that, He bounds through the front door and off into the night with Gotham's biggest mob boss on his back like a sack of potatoes.

 

[Andy C.]

Milton Fine had been sitting at his desk, working furiously on the plans for the devices that he had seen in his dream. This should have taken months, years maybe, but something was different. Whereas he would normally brainstorm and sketch wildly, going through constant trial and error or spending weeks on end arguing with his colleagues, here it seemed he was able to complete the designs on the first try. It was as if his hand, his very thoughts, were being guided...

He was used to talking to himself while he worked, but now, it felt like something was talking back. One of the voices that strived frantically for attention was not one of his own. It felt wrong, like it didn't belong there, but when he listened to it, the designs came out flawlessly. Had this voice been there all along, and he hadn't noticed it before? Was this brought on by his grief of knowing almost exactly when he was going to die? Or was this something else entirely?

Whatever's coming over me, it's working. Best not to dwell too much on a good thing.

After a hard night's work, the design was finished. It was compact, it was easily accessible, it was decades- hell, centuries- ahead of everything on the market.

But what the hell is it?

Milton Fine heard the voice once more.

It is the future, Milton Fine. And you will be the one who brings it to the world...

 

[batnkevlar]

OOC: Party pooper.


Jack smiles a twisted grin.

"You know what they say, darling. Once you go yellow their ain't no other fellow."

Jack slaps Dinah on the butt and runs off in a manical blur, heading past an angry Lex Luthor and picking up Carmine Falcone.

"Sorry their, Kojack. Carmine is mine, You can spend the rest of the night polishing that dazzling white cueball of yours."

Jack runs off towards the fron door with Carmine screaming and pounding on his back. He stops and grabs Dinah by the waist, dips her and lays a sloppy, wet kiss on her lips.

"You can keep that gum, baby."

He turns and looks at the rest of the partygoers.

"People of Gotham, I think Frank Miller wrote it best in Batman: Year One. As of right now...None of you are safe. Enjoy the party, tip the servants and give my best to mommy and daddy Brucey."

And with that, He bounds through the front door and off into the night with Gotham's biggest mob boss on his back like a sack of potatoes.

As the yellow freak throws Carmine over his back, I run after him, out of the front door.

~Sir?~

"I want a Lexoskel now! Pronto!"

I then pull out my gun and run after him.

 

[Trigger]

The cloud of smoke billowing into the room from Jason’s mouth continued to grow in intensity and thickness. Conner erected a small field around himself to prevent anymore of the nasty smog from entering his lungs, but could only watch helplessly as Don and John inhaled it by the mouthful.

Jason, unable to stop the ritual he had out into motion, wailed and shrieked in pain. His eyes began to roll upwards as mystical forces ripped his mind asunder. Unconcerned with the fates of anyone else in the room, he clung to his overwhelmingly short-sided plan.

“N-neron….I am...your f-faithful servant..!!” Jason cried aloud.

As if to react to his words, the smog began to swirl in the center of the room, forming a miniature twister. The smog stopped flowing from Jason’s mouth, and the translucent image of a tall man with broad shoulders and a strange medieval armor appeared before them. With his concentration broken and his power thoroughly weakened, Jason’s mystical spell pinning Conner, Don, and John to the wall vanished. The three of them fell to the floor with a loud, painful thud. Conner rubbed his sore throat and winced as he worked out each sore muscle. John rubbed the back of his head and kept his eyes on Jason and Neron’s image.

It was the sight of Don that had Conner’s attention at the moment. Slumped in the corner of the room, a very pale, sweaty Don had his hands clasped over his knife wound in agony. Conner felt the urge to comfort him, tell him that everything would turn out fine, but he couldn’t assure him of that. Instead he opted to make sure Don was still alive by whispering across the room to him.

“Don. Don!” Conner whispered nervously.

Don didn’t speak, but he did give Conner a re-assuring nod in the direction of the sound of his voice. Conner grimaced at the amount of pain he must be in.

Meanwhile, Neron’s image towered before the trembling Jason and smiled. No one in the room could tell what the devilish manifestation was thinking, but they knew he was up to no good.

“Hmph. One of these three should’ve summoned me. You are nothing more than another sniveling magician struggling to find real strength. What could a mere weakling like you offer a demon prince?”

Jason’s head hung low as he contemplated Neron’s comment.

“Nothing…I guess. All I have to offer myself is myself. Please, your unholyness! Give me the strength to kill Jonathan Constantine and whatever you do to me afterwards is up to you! I’m just so tired of being weak…”

“Anything..?” Neron said with a smile.

“Jason! No! You don’t understand what you’re doing! You don’t understand what he is!”

“I understand that he can give me power, and that’s all that matters!”

“Jason…”

“I won’t be number two again! I won’t let you embarrass me!”

“Jason use logic! Making a pact with a demon prince won’t help anyone and I’ve killed tougher…”

“Damn you! Damn you and your stupid boasting!”

Jason gave John the finger before returning his attention to the demon prince before him.

“Take me body and soul, as your servant! All I ask is that Jonathan Constantine dies a painful, agonizing death!”

“No.”

“…..!”

“I’d rather have all of you under my command instead.” He said matter-of-factly.

“W-what?!”

“You’ve all inhaled a bit of my essence so if I wanted, I could possess any one of you in minutes. Luckily, I don’t want all of you. Just the strongest among you.”

A red aura began to emanate around Conner, Jason, and John. One was emanating off of Don, but his declining health made it hardly noticeable. The auras around John and Jason were the strongest.

Jason smiled and rose to his feet. John did the same.

“I’m warning you Jason. You do this, you fight me, and I will not go easy on you, lad.”

“Pff! As if I want your sympathy! I’ll drop you and then your little psychic friend across from you!”

“B-but, but….!”

“Conner quit your whining! We can take him!”

"I hope so.."

“Good, you ready? Because hear I come!!”

Jason’s thing body grew in size and he lunged at John.

 

[twylight]

OOC: Party pooper.


Jack smiles a twisted grin.

"You know what they say, darling. Once you go yellow their ain't no other fellow."

Jack slaps Dinah on the butt and runs off in a manical blur, heading past an angry Lex Luthor and picking up Carmine Falcone.

"Sorry their, Kojack. Carmine is mine, You can spend the rest of the night polishing that dazzling white cueball of yours."

Jack runs off towards the fron door with Carmine screaming and pounding on his back. He stops and grabs Dinah by the waist, dips her and lays a sloppy, wet kiss on her lips.

"You can keep that gum, baby."

He turns and looks at the rest of the partygoers.

"People of Gotham, I think Frank Miller wrote it best in Batman: Year One. As of right now...None of you are safe. Enjoy the party, tip the servants and give my best to mommy and daddy Brucey."

And with that, He bounds through the front door and off into the night with Gotham's biggest mob boss on his back like a sack of potatoes.

I was doing okay, or so I thought, handling this guy, Josh had Helena pulled close to him but I noticed a loosness to his hold as if he was ready to drop her and come for me at the slightest provocation.

Blood is thicker than water. And for once I truly felt like I had something over Helena.

Jason on the other hand, my gallant knight in shining white armor was ready to pounce on this strange yellow dude if he merely twitched.

"You know what they say, darling. Once you go yellow their ain't no other fellow."

He slapped my butt before gallumping off towards Lex Luthor and Falcone.

Okay, that was more than a twitch and Jason was instantly at my side. I rubbed it ruefully, that actually hurt.

"Are you okay?"

"How mortifying!"

I give Josh a nod and Helena a raised eye. If she thought that was mortifying then what would she think about other things that have happened to me? Like say..being beat up by some freak in a freezer costume?
Or stood up by Batman himself.

I watch the weird guy's movements and instead of gasping with the general public in the room at the abduction of Falcone I take it in stride, until he grabs me by the waist and presses a kiss to my lips.
My mind kinda goes blank and numb as I push away from him, he releases as Jason grabs me and I cough, spitting out a wad of bubble gum. Doublemint to be exact.

For once I hate my almost Sherlock Holmes like random knowledge of bubble gum.

I stare at it in disgust looking up in shock and awe as he says calmly with a wink.
"You can keep that gum, baby."


He's like those suave guys you knew in High School..but he's not. I know Jason is in as much shock as myself, because he just stands here his arm around my wasit. I wish I could see his face.

The weird little dude gives a great oratory..something about Batman:Year One..I wonder what he knows...and then leaves, my mind is so muddled..everything went so fast but...

The room is in silent shock except Luthor who races out of the building after his 'associate'.

I remember what he last said:

"......As of right now...None of you are safe. Enjoy the party, tip the servants and give my best to mommy and daddy Brucey."

Okay, that was kinda funny.

I burst out laughing, breaking the silence.

 

[Byrd Man]

Through the errie dark night, a lone figure bounced from rooftop to rooftop, singing as he goes.

"It's been a hard day's night, and I been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright."

On his back was the man who, at one time, Had all of Gotham in the palm of his hand. Carmine Falcone was semi-unconscious as he flew across the Gotham skylight.

"Were here."

Here being a rundown warehouse with a faded sign saying "Kiddie's Kandies." in faded pink letters.

Jack enters through a broken window and drops Carmine onto the hard floor with a thump.

"Wakey wakey, hands off snakey."

He gingerly walks to a wooden table and takes a pair of rusty sisscors out of a drawer.

"Hopefully, I'll be able to cut within the lines."

 

[Batman]

IC: Bruce Wayne

The next few moments are somewhat of what I can only describe as a blur. This... Creeper is hard to keep track of, given his apparent altered agility. Perhaps even superhuman. But by the time I've spotted him again, He's at the door, carrying Carmine Falcone over his shoulders. I rush forward, trying to get to him, but there are too many people in my way.

"People of Gotham, I think Frank Miller wrote it best in Batman: Year One. As of right now...None of you are safe. Enjoy the party, tip the servants and give my best to mommy and daddy Brucey."

...

"Batman: Year One"?

Before I can even try to fathom that, he's made his way out the front door, and out of the mansion, Falcone still in his grasp. I'd put more into the Year One comment, but it's obvious whoever this Creeper is, he's nothing short of a lunatic. Nothing he says may have any point; there's no reason in trying to deduce it's meaning.

I look around, seeing that the room has gone silent for the second time since the Creeper's arrival. If Blake's entrance didn't already damage my goals within the evening, that certainly did it. And the silence says it all: The evening is more or less over.

Everyone turns, hearing laughter coming in the form of Dinah Lance. The only sound in the room, after those moments of silence. I shoot her a quick look of my apparent disapproval, before heading back towards the stairs, to Alfred and Rachel.

"Round up security and evacuate the guests. Before something else happens.", I tell Alfred, who nods in agreement, before walking past me to begin his task.

I turn, looking at the crowd, who all look at me.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, due to... well, certain events... I'm afraid the evening has to come to an abrupt close.", I begin. "Rest assured, your donations and parking fees for the evening will be refunded, with my deepest apologies for any discomfort or damages due to these events. Any further questions or concerns may be directed towards my assistant, Alfred Pennyworth. Thank you for coming, and goodnight."

Well, it's a start.

This is a complete disaster. All of it. I should've never even bothered... I did more harm than good tonight. Towards myself and everyone in this room. I can't even begin to wonder how many lawsuits I may be looking at, but at the moment, I just don't care. I have to get away. Have to think... Have to rid myself of this damned suit and clear my head. It's the only way I stand even a chance of staying sane after everything that's happened.

Going up the stairs, I leave the room entirely, walking down the hallways toward my own bedroom. But halfway there, I hear footsteps behind me. I look back, seeing Rachel.

"Bruce..."

"Don't. Just don't start.", I say. "This wasn't what I wanted... what I needed, tonight. This was nothing but a complete waste of time."

"Look, Bruce, I know you're angry, but-"

"Past the point.", I say, bitterly. "I just... need to be alone, right now."

"I know."

I sigh, turning to her.

"Look, I'm sorry about this. All of it."

"I know.", She says again, assuring me that I can stop.

I lower my head.

"This wouldn't have happened if I was my father. And being out there tonight... It just assured me of that. I'm not him. I can never be him."

Silence drapes over us as I contemplate what I just said. All of my life, I've aspired to be something incomparable. Something of a hero, maybe even an inspiration, like my father was. And tonight, I've only been proven of my own inability to be that. It's pointless to try.

"What are you going to do now?", She asks.

I consider that. What I want to do is crawl up into the nearest dark corner and hope that death comes quickly. But I know that if I'm going to survive this evening with even a little dignity, that's not an option. No, I've got work ahead of me. At least two madmen are roaming loose in the city, and the police have, so far, remained powerless to stop it.

I made a promise. And something like this isn't going to back me out of it. I have to act.

But I can't help but think that if I stay out of it, I'll be ridding the city of a greater evil. The Creeper didn't just kidnap anyone. Carmine Falcone dangles Gotham between his fingers like it's nothing but profit, while ruining the lives of it's inhabitants. He should've been stopped a long time ago. And now he's going to experience pain and suffering at the hands of a madman that was probably spawned by his own evil. He deserves what's happening to him.

I turn, ready to continue on to my bedroom and sleep the rest of the night away. But midway, I catch a glimpse of my parents, in a portrait. They both stare down at me. Even though their expressions are of happiness, I can see how quickly that'd be changed if they were alive today. Not at the party... But at my unwillingness to act.

What is it you used to say, dad? "The only true justice is given through betterment"?

I sigh to myself. A madman like Creeper won't better Falcone. He'll kill him, at best. And that's not what needs to happen, even if he's the cause for this city's corruption. I turn back to Rachel, still standing there, questioning my actions. She knows what needs to be done aswell as I do.

Damn it. Damn it all, I know I'm going to regret saying this...

"I'm going after them."

 

[Green Lantern]

IC: Bruce Wayne

The next few moments are somewhat of what I can only describe as a blur. This... Creeper is hard to keep track of, given his apparent altered agility. Perhaps even superhuman. But by the time I've spotted him again, He's at the door, carrying Carmine Falcone over his shoulders. I rush forward, trying to get to him, but there are too many people in my way.

"People of Gotham, I think Frank Miller wrote it best in Batman: Year One. As of right now...None of you are safe. Enjoy the party, tip the servants and give my best to mommy and daddy Brucey."

...

"Batman: Year One"?

Before I can even try to fathom that, he's made his way out the front door, and out of the mansion, Falcone still in his grasp. I'd put more into the Year One comment, but it's obvious whoever this Creeper is, he's nothing short of a lunatic. Nothing he says may have any point; there's no reason in trying to deduce it's meaning.

I look around, seeing that the room has gone silent for the second time since the Creeper's arrival. If Blake's entrance didn't already damage my goals within the evening, that certainly did it. And the silence says it all: The evening is more or less over.

Everyone turns, hearing laughter coming in the form of Dinah Lance. The only sound in the room, after those moments of silence. I shoot her a quick look of my apparent disapproval, before heading back towards the stairs, to Alfred and Rachel.

"Round up security and evacuate the guests. Before something else happens.", I tell Alfred, who nods in agreement, before walking past me to begin his task.

I turn, looking at the crowd, who all look at me.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, due to... well, certain events... I'm afraid the evening has to come to an abrupt close.", I begin. "Rest assured, your donations and parking fees for the evening will be refunded, with my deepest apologies for any discomfort or damages due to these events. Any further questions or concerns may be directed towards my assistant, Alfred Pennyworth. Thank you for coming, and goodnight."

Well, it's a start.

This is a complete disaster. All of it. I should've never even bothered... I did more harm than good tonight. Towards myself and everyone in this room. I can't even begin to wonder how many lawsuits I may be looking at, but at the moment, I just don't care. I have to get away. Have to think... Have to rid myself of this damned suit and clear my head. It's the only way I stand even a chance of staying sane after everything that's happened.

Going up the stairs, I leave the room entirely, walking down the hallways toward my own bedroom. But halfway there, I hear footsteps behind me. I look back, seeing Rachel.

"Bruce..."

"Don't. Just don't start.", I say. "This wasn't what I wanted... what I needed, tonight. This was nothing but a complete waste of time."

"Look, Bruce, I know you're angry, but-"

"Past the point.", I say, bitterly. "I just... need to be alone, right now."

"I know."

I sigh, turning to her.

"Look, I'm sorry about this. All of it."

"I know.", She says again, assuring me that I can stop.

I lower my head.

"This wouldn't have happened if I was my father. And being out there tonight... It just assured me of that. I'm not him. I can never be him."

Silence drapes over us as I contemplate what I just said. All of my life, I've aspired to be something incomparable. Something of a hero, maybe even an inspiration, like my father was. And tonight, I've only been proven of my own inability to be that. It's pointless to try.

"What are you going to do now?", She asks.

I consider that. What I want to do is crawl up into the nearest dark corner and hope that death comes quickly. But I know that if I'm going to survive this evening with even a little dignity, that's not an option. No, I've got work ahead of me. At least two madmen are roaming loose in the city, and the police have, so far, remained powerless to stop it.

I made a promise. And something like this isn't going to back me out of it. I have to act.

But I can't help but think that if I stay out of it, I'll be ridding the city of a greater evil. The Creeper didn't just kidnap anyone. Carmine Falcone dangles Gotham between his fingers like it's nothing but profit, while ruining the lives of it's inhabitants. He should've been stopped a long time ago. And now he's going to experience pain and suffering at the hands of a madman that was probably spawned by his own evil. He deserves what's happening to him.

I turn, ready to continue on to my bedroom and sleep the rest of the night away. But midway, I catch a glimpse of my parents, in a portrait. They both stare down at me. Even though their expressions are of happiness, I can see how quickly that'd be changed if they were alive today. Not at the party... But at my unwillingness to act.

What is it you used to say, dad? "The only true justice is given through betterment"?

I sigh to myself. A madman like Creeper won't better Falcone. He'll kill him, at best. And that's not what needs to happen, even if he's the cause for this city's corruption. I turn back to Rachel, still standing there, questioning my actions. She knows what needs to be done aswell as I do.

Damn it. Damn it all, I know I'm going to regret saying this...

"I'm going after them."

Before he left the party, Barry went back up to Bruce.

"Bruce, I know I introduced myself earlier, but I was in a rush to get to the boozin. Which was great by the way. Anyway, I feel like an ass... but when I was slammed on your high quality stuff, I snooped. I saw your closet, I approve. Call me, we can talk." Barry winked, grabbed Tina and was gone before Bruce could respond.

"You're getting good at this speed shell thing, Barry, but could you warn me next time you wisk me off?"

"...Oh yeah. Sorry."

 

[Ra's Al Ghul]

He stared into the abyss in wide-eyed terror. The mouth he was looking into was big enough to swallow a Greyhound bus, and the teeth were stained red.

This is not cool. What the f**k is that thing?

The suits defense mechanisms went up but Garth was still desperately trying to swim away from the swirling vortex, sucking him into the maw. He focused, realizing he wouldn’t be able to outswim the pull, and targeted his mental energy at the beast.

~~STOP. TURN BACK. LEAVE.~~

~~I aM kRaKeN. KrAkEn ImMuNe To AtLaNtEaN pOwErS. oRm WaNtS yOu DeAd.~~

Oh. S**T. This is not a good sign.

~~~USE THE TRIDENT GARTH.~~~

“Huh, wha? Okay… but I don’t see how this will help.”

As tendrils started to extend from the mouth and wrap around his legs, Garth drove the trident into them. There was a boiling of water and a howl of pain as the tendril exploded in a purple mess, and the trident began to glow bright golden. It grew brighter as it cut through the beasts tendrils, and tongue. The mouth closed and the beast sank back into the depths, and then the sand.

Bleeding from the nose, Garth swam back to the cave.

“WHAT THE F**K WAS THAT?”

“That was a Kraken, congrats, you passed the test.”

“You knew that would happen?!?”

“No, I knew Orm would have a beast looking for you. I honestly didn’t expect the Kraken yet. I’m amazed you survived.”

"Okay, fine. You know everything about everything I need to do. So what next? If this Orm guy is half as tough as you're making him out to be... well I'm completely and utterly screwed."

"Not neccesarily Garth. There are other powers you have not yet tapped, nor that Orm could even know about. Your mother was royalty before she ever met your father. She from Tritonus and he from Posiedonus. Tritonian royalty is well known for their powers over the waves themselves, though the public knowledge of that ability has faded."

"What's that mean?"

"You control how water reacts around you. You can make it boil or freeze at a whim. You can speed it up, slow it down, force it any direction you want. All it takes is concentration on your part. I suggest you test that ability here in the cave, and then act quickly. If you catch Orm before he thinks you're ready, you will have the surprize to defeat him quickly and claim your throne."

Garth went to the inlet of the cave, and stared at the water. Suddenly a wave rose straight up in a spike and crashed down, shattering back into the rocks below. Two more spires rose, and this time hung as sharp diamonds cut off from the ocean below them. They glistened as they froze into solid ice and screeched as they fired themselves at the wall, shattering on the rocky cavern. The inlet then bubbled as more water rose in a spinning globe, and then exploded into a mist as it boiled.

"Okay. I have to admit this is pretty f**king sweet."

"I suggest you go now, well you still have the element of surprize. Good luck, may Poseiden guide you."

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

The next few moments are even more of a blur than before.

Allen. I can't recall his first name, but they call him The Flash. He came up to me right before I decided to head into the city. With what he said, and the way he said it... It doesn't take the world's greatest detective to know that the 'closet' he found was The Cave. I know I should be worried, now that he knows the truth... But I have other things to worry about. Besides, something tells me that this won't be the last time The Flash and I cross paths.

For another night. I need to focus on finding Creeper. Carmine Falcone's life hangs in the balance. I can't even believe I care that it does, but I have certain things that I want to say to him. I want to see the look on his face as he realises that Gotham won't be his anymore. It may be the only thing that'll make the night worth it.

Looking back now, I should be a bit more enthused that my latest 'invention' worked. Walking into my room, I activated the security lock on the door and immediatley went to the nearest mirror. Pressing on it in a certain area, it slid up, revealing the automated in-wall elevator that lead to the southeast foundations of the cave below. Built the lift myself; Only took half a fortune. Good thing I had that and more to spare.

A quick run across the room, and I was already out of my tux, and into the bodysuit. Clicking the belt into place, I nearly leaped into the boots, as I pulled on the gloves and walked over to the weapons table. Loaded it with the standard equipment I've made a habit of carrying: Smoke pellets, Flash grenades, Grappling hooks and lines, Batarangs, and the multi-lensed scope. But when I remembered Creeper's agility and general energy, I decided to pack one more thing: Tranquilizers; Seditives. Lots of them.

Throwing the cape across my back, I noticed something laying on the computer desk. Some kind of written message. Walking over, I picked it up, expecting it to be from Alfred. But upon closer inspection...

Mr. Wayne,

As you have probably guessed, I have found out your secret. I realize why you do this, and for this reason alone, I will not tell my superiors.

Keep up the good work,

Cap. Nathan Adam

P.S.

I was under orders to bug your study, be careful what you say.


The only thing I could think of, was how much Falcone's look needed to be worth it. Because in all other respects, I failed in my goal. Instead of being able to divert attention away from my identity, at least two people learned of it. One being an officer of the military. Crumbling the note in my hand, I decided to shove it to the farthest corner of my mind. For all I know, Adam may be trustworthy. But there's no way of telling that. I guess, in the end, I should've expected this to happen... Which is the only reason I'm not going to take any actions against Flash or Adam. For now.

Taking the cowl in my hand, I attached it to the cape. But before I could put it on, I could see a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Is this really what I've become? Or what I'm going to be for the rest of my life?

I think of my parents, and how they would want this city to have a sense of hope. I think of Alfred, and how much he sacrificed to prevent me from taking the wrong path when they were murdered. Even Talia flashes through my mind. She would've wanted me to serve a greater good.

No matter what manner I adopted.

Running over, I caught myself going to the chambers of the cave that I used to keep the Batmobile in. But remembering it's demolition at the hands of the police force, I was more or less drawn to another vehicle in my arsenal.

Five minutes later, and I'm just now entering the city. This is insanity; The police have an all points bulletin out for my immediate capture. But honestly, thinking back to how everything else in this evening went... I think I need those odds.

I look down at the meter on the cycle. I'm going 120; entering 130. I can only hope that gives me enough time in the world. Now it's just a matter of finding my target. ...And staying alive long enough to stop him.

 

[Byrd Man]

Through the errie dark night, a lone figure bounced from rooftop to rooftop, singing as he goes.

"It's been a hard day's night, and I been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright."

On his back was the man who, at one time, Had all of Gotham in the palm of his hand. Carmine Falcone was semi-unconscious as he flew across the Gotham skylight.

"Were here."

Here being a rundown warehouse with a faded sign saying "Kiddie's Kandies." in faded pink letters.

Jack enters through a broken window and drops Carmine onto the hard floor with a thump.

"Wakey wakey, hands off snakey."

He gingerly walks to a wooden table and takes a pair of rusty sisscors out of a drawer.

"Hopefully, I'll be able to cut within the lines."

The slumped figure of Carmine Falcone sits tied to a chair in the middle of the abonded Kiddie's Kandies candy factory, off in the shadows a lemon skinned maniac slowly laughs.

"Hehehehe, It's funny isn't it, Carmine? You, the crime king of Gotham about to be slowly killed by me, Gothams champion. It'll be my first test as a superhero and the public will adore me."

He jumps through the air and lands next to Falcone. Picking up his head and making eye contact.

"Think of the possibilites, There'll be Creeper action figures, A Creerper signal and a Creeper cave and before you know it a Creeper movie. Of couse Chris Nolan will direct it and who else but Christan Bale will play me."

blood chilling laughter escapes his lips as he pulls out the pair of rusty shears and waves them at Falcone.

"Of course, you won't be around to see it. Now I need to get to work."

He reaches down and pulls Falcone's arm up to his face, he looks at the white boney fingers and smiles.

"This little piggy went to market."

With the shears he cuts off Falcone's pinky finger, blood squirts out as the finger flys off into the shadows.

"This little piggy stayed home."

He seperates the ring finger from the rest of the hand as blood flows freely.

"This little piggy had roast beef."

The birdy finger follows in similar fashion.

"This little piggy had none..and this little piggy went 'wewewe' all the way home."

The index finger and thumb fly off as blood squirts out and pools at the foot of the chair.

"Five digits down, fifteen to go."

 

[batnkevlar]

Dammit, Creeper's getting away.

"Actually, screw the Lexoskel," I say to my chauffeur. I pull off my tie and get into the limo. I need to get Carmine back. "Follow the freak. NOW."

We speed until we get to a warehouse. On the faded sign it says "Kiddies Kandies" in faded pink letters. I pop open the door and set one foot outside of the limo. I pause, then turn back to my confidante.

"Nice working with you, Luis."

I then head inside the building.

The slumped figure of Carmine Falcone sits tied to a chair in the middle of the abonded Kiddie's Kandies candy factory, off in the shadows a lemon skinned maniac slowly laughs.

"Hehehehe, It's funny isn't it, Carmine? You, the crime king of Gotham about to be slowly killed by me, Gothams champion. It'll be my first test as a superhero and the public will adore me."

I watch the Creeper and Falcone together, Carmine at his mercy. I look around. I see cameras in the upperhand corners of the warehouse.

"Are the cameras operational?" I whisper.

~They can be,~ says my LuthorCorp technician on the other end.

"Make them. Delta Charlie Kilo Charlie Foxtrot."

~Righto.~

He jumps through the air and lands next to Falcone. Picking up his head and making eye contact.

"Think of the possibilites, There'll be Creeper action figures, A Creeper signal and a Creeper cave and before you know it a Creeper movie. Of couse Chris Nolan will direct it and who else but Christan Bale will play me."

blood chilling laughter escapes his lips as he pulls out the pair of rusty shears and waves them at Falcone.

This guy's nuttier than... nuttier than... nuttier than they come. He has no pride, no shame, no goals. He can't think beyond the here and now.

Pity.

"Of course, you won't be around to see it. Now I need to get to work."

He reaches down and pulls Falcone's arm up to his face, he looks at the white boney fingers and smiles.

I watch the ensuing torture scene.

"This little piggy went to market."

With the shears he cuts off Falcone's pinky finger, blood squirts out as the finger flys off into the shadows.

"This little piggy stayed home."

He seperates the ring finger from the rest of the hand as blood flows freely.

"This little piggy had roast beef."

The birdy finger follows in similar fashion.

"This little piggy had none..and this little piggy went 'wewewe' all the way home."

The index finger and thumb fly off as blood squirts out and pools at the foot of the chair.

"Five digits down, fifteen to go."

I then show myself from the shadows.

"Time to stop Creeper. This man has business with me. I would very much appreciate it if you'd spare his life. I can make it worth your while."

 

[Byrd Man]

Dammit, Creeper's getting away.

"Actually, screw the Lexoskel," I say to my chauffeur. I pull off my tie and get into the limo. I need to get Carmine back. "Follow the freak. NOW."

We speed until we get to a warehouse. On the faded sign it says "Kiddies Kandies" in faded pink letters. I pop open the door and set one foot outside of the limo. I pause, then turn back to my confidante.

"Nice working with you, Luis."

I then head inside the building.




I watch the Creeper and Falcone together, Carmine at his mercy. I look around. I see cameras in the upperhand corners of the warehouse.

"Are the cameras operational?" I whisper.

~They can be,~ says my LuthorCorp technician on the other end.

"Make them. Delta Charlie Kilo Charlie Foxtrot."

~Righto.~



This guy's nuttier than... nuttier than... nuttier than they come. He has no pride, no shame, no goals. He can't think beyond the here and now.

Pity.



I watch the ensuing torture scene.



I then show myself from the shadows.

"Time to stop Creeper. This man has business with me. I would very much appreciate it if you'd spare his life. I can make it worth your while."

He looks up and smiles at Lex, Blood dripping off of his face, a manical grin plastered on his lemon face.

"Well hello, Cueball. And what exactly would you do for me? Show me how to properly take care of my hair."

He goes back to work, chopping of Falcone's other hand in one swoop. Carmine's screams echo through the abandoned factory and more blood squirts onto Creeper's face, he licks off the blood off with his enourmous tounge and smiles.

"And for the final touch."

He reaches down and pulls off Falcone's pants in one swift motion.

"We do what we do to any unruly pup."

He snaps the shears and smiles.

"We have you neutered."

 

[batnkevlar]

He looks up and smiles at Lex, Blood dripping off of his face, a manical grin plastered on his lemon face.

"Well hello, Cueball. And what exactly would you do for me? Show me how to properly take care of my hair."

He goes back to work, chopping of Falcone's other hand in one swoop. Carmine's screams echo through the abandoned factory and more blood squirts onto Creeper's face, he licks off the blood off with his enourmous tounge and smiles.

"And for the final touch."

He reaches down and pulls off Falcone's pants in one swift motion.

"We do what we do to any unruly pup."

He snaps the shears and smiles.

"We have you neutered."

I whip my gun from the holster around my shoulder and out from underneath my jacket.

"That's the last time you disobey Lex Luthor, freak."

I then point the gun at him and begin to pull the trigger.

 

[Batman]

IC: Batman

The tires of the cycle screech to a halt as I round the corner of Sprang and Morrison, on the eastern side. I've checked the docks. Checked the Narrows. The subways. Even the inner city... All both the most obvious and discreet areas for hiding. And so far, I've got nothing in regards to Creeper, Lex Luthor, or Carmine Falcone.

Part of me thinks I shouldn't be putting all of my effort into this. There are at least three other madmen I should be worrying about, roaming the city as I go on possibly a dead end spree. Victor Fries, who escaped custody at Arkham Asylum a few days ago. Harvey Dent, "Two-Face", whom of which my vendetta is somewhat personal. And the man who poisoned Chuckie "Big Man" Sol. The Creeper is just one of several threads of insanity woven into this city's corruption. And some even think that I could be one of them.

I'd be insulted, if I actually cared.

But perhaps there's some truth to it. I never heard of any of these types of evil when I was training abroad. Never encountered it when I went out on the ski-mask vigilante routine. Yet the moment I adopted this motif, they're coming out by the dozens. And the ones I listed aren't even the only ones... Heard about a woman able to control plants when I was researching Dinah Lance's file. Also managed to encounter a lower level costumed thug calling himself "Moth", or something to that effect. Could I be the cause of all of this? My exploits acting as some sick inspiration for these people?

I may never know for sure. But I can't think about that right now. Falcone dies at the hands of a yellow skinned madman unless I hustle and actually manage to find them; Though that in itself is an insane task.

I rev the engine, getting ready to take off once more, once this passing limosiene crosses. Which doesn't take long, considering the driver's obviously drunk, given the speed- Wait a minute.

I speed forward on the cycle, stopping at the light as the limo speeds off. But before it can leave, I manage a look at the liscence plate. "LEX III". I narrow my eyes. Only person would carry their name around like that in such a manner. I turn, seeing where the limosiene came from. Given that this is the other side of town, coming from the trail leading back from the Manor, something tells me that Luthor wasn't inside. And that whereever the driver was heading from... I'll find what I'm looking for.

Getting the engines of the cycle jumpstarted with a wheelie, I land, and speed down the opposite road. Hopefully my hunch isn't off... I'm beginning to wonder if I've wasted too much time as it is.

At first, the trail is a little crowded. I know this area as the Slums, only because I've been here many times during my nighly outings. Too many storage buildings to be for certain. But as I continue on, I'm stopped by a sound that's way too familiar to me: A lone gunshot.

Looking around, I spot an open warehouse. "Kiddie's Kandies", as the top banner reads. It's obviously been abandoned for years. But speaking from experience... That does little to tell me that no one's in it. Parking the cycle, I get off, throw my helmet to the ground, and run at it, reaching into my belt. Pulling out the grapnel, I run, aim, and fire, before swinging upwards to the roof. It's better to examine the situation before running in like an idiot.

The moment I look through the glass, I'm instantly regretful of doing so. The three of them are in there, but I wasted too much time. Falcone's sitting in a pool of his own blood, screaming with muffled screams through a gag. Creeper's on the floor, crouched, with a fresh, smoking bullet hole in the wall behind him. The maniac's grinning. I turn to Luthor, holding the smoking gun, getting ready for another shot, obviously with the intent of murder.

No. No matter what the purpose or the means, No death. Not here, in Gotham City. Not as long as I'm around. I leap forward, feet first, crashing through the skylight, spreading my cape to avoid a fast impact.

I land right between the two, Batarangs at the ready incase either get any ideas. The first I address is Luthor, turning to him.

"No. He's going to jail. And you...", I growl, turning to Creeper. "You're coming with me."

This is just as insane as anything I've done. Perhaps even moreso. But then again, when has that ever stopped me?

 

[Venom160]

{Harvey Dent}

I manage to enter the city limits before Two Face takes control.

"Where the f**k are we?!"

"I kinda spaced out and almost walked right out of Gotham."

"Idiot! And what the hell is this?"

My arm reaches off and rips the phantom mask off my face.

"What the hell it this crap!"

My hand crushes the plastic mask and throws it aside.

"No matter its not like you can do anything useful anymore."

As he heads back to his hideout I have to force myself to hold in a laugh, if Rachel does as I asked it'll all be over in the next couple days.