"The Gotham City Stock Circuit was floored, today, in the aftermath of one of the city's worst tragedies, as young billionaire Bruce Wayne, former chairmain and CEO of the industrious Wayne Enterprises complex, donated five hundred million dollars towards a new program to help those affected by the massacre's casualties. While Wayne appeared entusiastic about the program's benefits to the city as a whole, Mayor Oswald Cobblepot chose to focus on the grim and ensuing tradegy that spawned such a benefit.
"I just want to offer my deepest condolences to the families affected by this, ahem... madman's brutal slaying. Obviously Mr. Wayne's motives and genorisity are to be admired and commended, and I look forward to taking part in our city's stife to move past this unfortunate incident, but I refuse to lie and say that these acts will sacrifice a life of pain for it's victims. Gotham City has become a grim place without these fine women and men, and we can only hope that the city is restored to it's former glory in the years to come."
Meanwhile, recently appointed District Attorney Rachel Dawes, a Gotham City native and one who was personally affected by the massacre, having publically lost her mother to crime at an early age, decided to bring attention back to Wayne's charitible donation.
"I've known Mr. Wayne for a little more than a year, now, and I can safely tell you by our conversations that the absolute last thing he wants is for anyone to forget those who've been lost by this terrible crime. Rather, I think Bruce's motive is to help those grieve, rather than hinder it, by taking away the stresses and concequences of now-deceased figureheads of Gotham's affected families. I, too, will be taking part in the effort to raise money and awareness for this tradegy through Wayne's considerably generous organization, and I encourage my fellow citizens to do the same. Together, we can all fight for a Gotham free of maniacs like The Joker."
While Dawes and Cobblepot's views clashed on the issue, Wayne himself seemed to be in high spirits in the interviews that followed.
"I don't think Ozzie understood what I was trying to do, but that's fine. As long as he puts forth an effort to help the charity, I think we can all forgive him for not seeing the greater picture."
And when asked about his own personal stance on the accused vigilantes, The Batman and The Joker?
"To my knowledge, The Joker was the only one responsible for the madness that occured in Robinson Park.", Wayne shrugged. "But if it's all the same, whether they're hero or terrorist, I believe in a world where a Batman and Joker shouldn't exist. Normal society has been sacrificed with the emergence of criminals like Mister Freeze and Two-Face, and I think that once our police department makes headway in capturing them, we'll be alot better off than in recent times."
This is Vesper Fairchild, for Gotham Evening News, reporting live from City Hall."
"Turn it off, Alfred. I've had enough of the news circuit for one day."
I loosen my tie as Alfred wordlessly complies with my request, shutting off the monitor in the back of the limosiene.
My eyes are burning with the brightness of camera flashes and video recording lights, but I feel as if it was all worth it. I've gotten a message out to the people of my city, and they've already began a movement towards a brighter tommorow. Still, I can't help but feel truth in Ozzie's words... whatever I do, as Bruce Wayne or Batman, I can't raise people from the dead. And had I acted sooner, I still feel as if I could've prevented half the number of casualties that The Joker took, last night.
But it's in the past. Today's theme, per my press conference, was about the future of Gotham. And it's a theme I intend to take with me, even on the streets, tonight. My city's... and my family's deaths, will not be in vain. With the citizens' help, and the Wayne Foundation running, we'll restore it by any means nessacary.
"Quite the accomplishment, I must say,", Alfred begins, looking in the rearview mirror.
"Alot of families are going to be safer, tonight, because of you."
I sigh to myself, rubbing away a coming headache as we cross onto Sprang Blvd, on the outskirts of the slums. Rolling down the window ever so slightly, I bask in the refreshing air from the outside. I've been doing interviews since seven in the morning, and it's already noon.
"That's the question, though. Because of Bruce Wayne, alone?", I ask.
"Part of me thinks that I did more good without the cowl, this time. And maybe that's how it should be..."
"With all due respect, Master Bruce, my intention was to indicate both.", He responds, much to my surprise.
I smirk.
"You're actually condoning my activities as Batman?", I respond.
"That's a first."
"I suppose, as they say, there is indeed a first time for everything.", He notes.
"Such as Bruce Wayne finally showing his true colors to the masses. You're a good man, sir, and I fear you sometimes forget that."
My smirk turns into a smile, as I lean back into my chair.
"Careful, Alfred. I may start to get cocky."
"HELP ME!"
My eyes collectively widen, as does Alfred's, as we hear the piercing shriek coming from within the slums. I grab Alfred's shoulder, in a knee-jerk reaction, still in alarm.
"Stop the car!"
He does, thankfully, and I immediately open the door. That scream couldn't have come from more than a mile from here. I look towards the sky, foolishly hoping for the slightest chance of a darkness, in the form of shade behind a nearby building. But nothing. The sun is far too brightly lit. Damn it... I won't be of much effect without the night. And worse, I don't think I have the time to change.
"Shall I fetch your evening garments, sir?", Alfred promptly asks, as I'm in mid-contemplation.
To hell with it. It's a cost between an identity and another life taken on Gotham's streets. I have to try.
Removing my jacket, I throw it into the seat next to me, and dash out of the door, much to Alfred's shock.
"SIR!"
"I'll be fine!", I call back, running as fast as I possibly can.
"I'll be fine". A fabricated lie, and one I'm not particularly confident in. I've got none of the armor. None of the gadgets or tolls. None of the
effect that I've become so reliant on. It's just me. And I know how unforgiving the streets can be, without that intimidation. I could be killed, tonight... and I don't care. I just keep running, until finally, I cross upon a secluded parking lot, where a blonde woman struggles against a relentless, large attacker.
Ducking beneath one of the cars, before either can see me, I contemplate the situation. I could easily take him out, but it'd compromise me to the victim. But if I don't act, the victim won't live to have exposed me. And whether or not it would be better for the city, I refuse to allow anyone's life to be taken, especially considering last night's fiasco.
For the first time since arriving to Gotham, I'm not sure what to do. So I let instincts drive me, as I roll forward, and rise above another car, nearer to them.
"Hey!", I call out, in stark contrast to a silent approach.
The thug and the woman turn, to see me, as I slide across the hood of the car, and land infront of them. And still, I'm unsure of what to do. Lord, I'm already feeling like an idiot. But it's still better than failure.
"I don' know where you came from, but you better back off, pal, or I'll waste'er!", He yells back, enraged. "Now step back! Now!"
"No.", I state back, unafraid.
"Unhand her now, you scum. Or I'll..."
That's when I stop. I almost slipped, there, and went into my monotone used in the costume. The thug looks at me, confused, but amused by my apparent lack of a plan.
"Er you'll whut?", He asks back, throwing the woman aside.
I look back, to see if she's okay. Aside from her purse's contents scattered all over the street, she'll be fine. It's the oafish moron that I'm facing now that concerns me. He wants to engage in a fight. I know that. And I could easily comply to his request. But the woman's still watching. I guess it's time for the act to set in. Putting up my fists in a rather comical manner, I look up at the thug that towers me. But then I pause, intentionally, so as to look like a sudden jolt of fear ran through me.
"Heh. Yer lookin' for an ass kickin', mister.", He proudly announces, before swinging at me.
Can't hit back. So I'll do the next best thing. I duck, as his fist flies through the air, and around my head. He looks at me, confused by my agility, but angered none the less. "What th-... hold still!"
He swings again. I duck again. He swings. I duck. This continues a few times, until finally, he just decides to rush me. Vaulting towards me, I throw myself to the side, as the thug slams into a nearby car, smashing his fist through the side window. Moving forward, I almost kick him, but then the act sets back in, taking over instinct. My flimsly executed punch merely rushes wind, as I don't even come close to hitting him. All of which are intentional. The thug laughs, between grunts of pain, as he cracks his other knuckle.
"Yer' a wiseguy, eh?", He states, grabbing me by the shirt. "I hates wiseguys."
My eyes widen, as he throws a punch towards me. I can duck. But I don't. Instead, I feel the most pain I've had in awhile, as he knocks me straight in the jaw, bursting it open with a slight trail of blood. I stagger back, slightly winded... but satisfied. I'm not putting up much of a fight, but I'm still in control. Exactly what I wanted. Looking back, I notice that the woman isn't looking at us anymore, instead trying her best to speedily grab her things. I turn, with a smirk, assuming a more... correct position of fighting stance.
"Let's dance.", I announce, melodramatically.
He swings towards me. I duck, again. But this time, I grab his wrist, in a reflexive manouver. With a tug, I knee him in the gut, hard, and slam my elbow in one of his neck veins. His eyes widen, as they roll back, and he falls to the ground, out cold. I breathe a sigh of relief, shaking my now partially fractured fist, and wipe the blood from my mouth.
Not bad. For a rich boy.
Turning around, I stumble a little, still feeling the affect of the fight. Have to make sure my efforts weren't wasted.
"Excuse me... miss? Miss, do you need any help? My car's only a block away... I can take you to the hospital, if you want."
