The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season 2.0

[Batman]

I stare into Joker's eyes through my now cracked glasses, his breath smells like hot garbage and his teeth are butter yellow.

"Don't you ****ing move."

I see Maggie press her pistol hard against Joker's head, Merkel levels his gun at the madman as well.[/LEFT]

The Joker's head remains unmoving, as his eyes dart to the side, feeling the barrel of the gun level right above his ear. More cops. More spoilers of fun. If he didn't know any better, Dent's plan was becoming more and more irritating by the second. But The Joker knew, within moments, it would all be worth it. Never taking his eyes off Gordon, the maniac replies not with surrender, but with defiance. With a push, the clown's blade moves only an inch away from Gordon's throat. Even before Joker's eyes meet Maggie Sawyer's, once more, he can sense the fear in even the slightest mistake on her part. She values Gordon's life, as does the other. And that's all that The Joker needed to know.

"Oh, I'll be moving, alright,", The Joker eerily hisses back, his grip firm on the knife. "Because dead or alive, the moment you pull the trigger, honey bunch, you can be sure that your dear old Captain is off to that big donut shop in the sky. Even if I don't get to off him myself, my death spasm sure as hell will!"

With a sharp spin, The Joker moves behind Gordon, levelling the knife up to his chin. Maggie Sawyer stands, enraged, but hesitant. She knows the truth in the madman's words all too well, as does the other officer, who's quicker to reason with him. In time, the two officers lower their pistols. To show that he won't go back on his word, The Joker inches the knife a couple inches away from Gordon's throat, though he still keeps it reasonably close. After all, what good is a hostage if they're a free one?

"Say, Gordo, old chum! I've got an idea!", The Joker exclaims, much to the dismay of the officers, as he brushes the nose of his mask against the Captain's ear. "What's say you and me go for an evening stroll?"

Gordon doesn't respond, prompting The Joker to cackle, madly. The Captain remains brave, showing no sign of fear... but looks can be oh, so decieving. With a grab and toss of Gordon's spare revolver, the same that he had been reaching for in the past two minutes, The Joker backed away, dragging Gordon with him, into the darkness of the now burning park. As the two inch further and further away, the maniac grins, widely, watching as they immediately discuss the next action to take.

"Lovely friends of yours,", He states, in a mock tone. "Particularly the blonde. She got a sister? HAHAHA!"

"Put him down, Joker."

The Joker's breath shortens, as his heart stops, hearing the inhuman barritone echo in the skies around him. Looking around, The Joker gasps, as soon as he spots the shadow in the distance. But it's not a gasp of fear. But rather, pure delight. With a violent toss, The Joker forgets about Gordon all too soon, and focuses on his newer adversary. The figure in the wood peers out at him with blank, emotionless eyes, creating a haunting glow amidst the darkness. But The Joker doesn't have to know who exactly he's facing. Throwing his knife up, in pure excitement, The Joker seems giddy as he turns, and fully stares down his opponent.

"Oh, can it be? Can it truly be?!", He announces. "It is! By god, it is! Pinch me, I'm dreaming! After all this time, we finally meet once again..."

"...darling! You're right on time!"

The Dark Knight sneers, unamused by the clown's antics.

"Enough,", He responds, advancing from the shadows, as determined and wicked looking as a demon from hell. "Whatever your intentions, the madness ends tonight."

The Joker cackles, catching the knife he had tossed into the air, as if Batman's threat were in jest. Of course, to him, everything was, anymore. Tightening his grip on the blade's handle, The Clown Prince fiercely lunges at his enemy.

"I beg to differ!"

 

[Andy C.]

(IC: Lex Luthor)

"Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen. I'm glad you're all here, because frankly, it's time we had a talk."

The throng of reporters and cameramen squaring off with Lex Luthor were taken aback by the man's attitude. Just a few short hours ago, clad in what he called a 'War-suit,' he had publicly engaged a rogue metahuman in combat, sending the woman tumbling into the East River. Now, he was standing at a podium, assuming an almost parental tone with the reporters, addressing them as if he were lecturing a rebellious teenager.

In his own mind, that was almost exactly what he was doing. The general public of Metropolis had put so much stock into Superman and his kind, and yet Lex himself was the one to save them from Giganta (whom he had later paid handsomely and invited to a special training facility to prepare for active duty) The media, quick to jump on the sensational, overlooked the importance of Luthor's actions, focusing instead on Superman's fight with the former hero Blackrock. Even now, many of the major news outlets were absent from his press conference, sending their reporters instead to cover some nonsense in Gotham City. More and more, the public's imagination was taken by these freaks, these usurpers of the world's destiny, and the accomplishments of humans were all but forgotten.

All that would have to change. And Luthor would begin that change tonight.

"No doubt many of you believe I called this conference to make a comment about my actions involving the metahuman we have identified as 'Giganta.' I've already provided you with all of the information I have regarding the situation.

"However, let's take a moment to look at what was really going on earlier today, and what it means for all of you. Mere days after the events of the Brainiac invasion, Metropolis finds itself besieged by the deranged Doctor Peter Silversone, under the alias 'Blackrock,' who openly blamed Superman for his turn to violence. Naturally, the alien responds in force, subduing Blackrock by administering a brutal beating.

"Simultaneously, an unidentified woman who only calls herself 'Giganta' appears in the heart of the city, challenging Superman to combat. Since he is preoccupied, however, I take the opportunity to respond, neutralizing the threat. Unfortunately, Giganta falls into the East River, and has yet to be found. Nevertheless, her appearance in the city was specifically to challenge Superman.

"In short, she was here because he is here."

The room broke out into momentary chaos as the reporters were spurred by his statement, trying to get some sort of response in. However, Lex kept his calm and waved them down before continuing.

"Think about it. Lobo. Neutron. Brainiac. Blackrock. Giganta. All of them were menaces who came to Metropolis with the express purpose of bringing in the alien from Krypton. The Daily Planet once wrote an article claiming that Superman works to 'inspire' the people of this country, and indeed, this world, to greater acts of good. Thus far, however, the only inspiration he's provided since his arrival has been incitement to super-human violence and terrorism.

"One needn't look very far to back up that statement. Just look at what is happening in Gotham City. Ever since the debut of the vigilante calling himself 'Batman,' street crime has been on a steady decrease, replaced instead with a steadily-rising number of costumed murderers. I'm told that even as I speak, the Gotham authorities are being held at bay by the mass-murderer and terrorist known as the Joker. Every one of this new breed of criminals began their rampages after Batman arrived on the scene."

Luthor furrowed his brow, planting his hands firmly on the corners of the podium.

"What we are looking at, in the short-term, is a series of events all escalating from the actions of anonymous citizens, apparently the unforeseen results of good intentions. In the long-term, however, we are looking at the slow but sure marginalization of humanity's future.

"What would happen, for instance, if these metahuman terrorists began to organize? Or if the so-called 'heroes' decided to act not only as law enforcement, but become judge and jury? The world is becoming not even a battlefield, but a playground for these metahumans, who are able to impose their will without even the slightest hint of repercussions from us mere humans.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, no more."

The man had a fire in his eyes, a determination to an ideal that he seemed to be the only one to understand, let alone believe.

"The time has come for humanity to take our world back from those who would have us be little more than bystanders in our own lives. We as a species must accept responsibility for our own fate, and administer the consequences to those who so arrogantly defy our laws. The time has come for society to stand against the tide of chaos.

"That is why today, I am announcing the formation of Society. As outlined in my book, this Society will be comprised of several like-minded citizens, both in the public and private sectors, who will work towards preparing humanity for the tomorrow that is to come. Together, we will provide the solutions for this world that Superman and his kind cannot: technological advancements, improvements in diplomatic relations, new philosophies and approaches to analytical thinking. We will achieve this brave new world without having to look up in the sky for our answers.

"And before you ask, no, Society is not meant to be an exclusive club for the upper class. Unlike the elitists that believe solutions can only come from wealth and influence, we in the Society welcome all people from all walks of life to join us. You do not have to have money, or fame, or some secret advantage over your fellow man. All you have to do is want a better tomorrow.

"Now...questions?"

The room erupted into a cacophony of noise as reporters tried to talk over each other. Inwardly, Lex Luthor smiled.

Now the new age begins...

 

[Eddie Brock]

I sit in jail, awaiting a trial by a jury of my peers. What point is there? I'm going to be found guilty. My lawyer suggested that I try the insanity plea. He insists that Gotham is the easiest place to get away with it. I have my doubts, but for the sake of trying, I managed to find a small, sharp piece of metal.

Using the metal, I lightly carve a question mark into my wrists. Perhaps if it looks like I attempted suicide, I could have a better chance. The bottom line is: a cell in Arkham is more ideal than a regular prison cell.

So, having nothing to do but ponder my failure, I think about the events of the bridge. Where did I go wrong? I mean, sure, I'll concede that leaving riddles wasn't the greatest idea - but that was the brilliance of the plan! I basically told them how to stop me! It was just a matter of whether they were smart enough to figure it out!

As usual, my train of thought always comes back to Batman. Oh, how I hate that vigilante now. His appearance on the scene confuses even me! How did he know of my riddle? Why did he seemingly know my victim? How could I be outsmarted?!

This is the second time in my life that I've been outsmarted, and it still irritates me just as much. First, Bruce Wayne beats me in a game of intelligence and planning. Then, Batman beats me at my own game! Clearly, I must be weary of those two. They are the only men to ever outsmart The Riddler!

Ok...the name may be a little excessive. But it fits, right?

Anyway, I find it hard to believe that any man could outsmart me - let alone two of them! It's simply incomprehensible that there are two human beings out there more cunning than me! Oh, I will have my reven---

"Wait."

My riddle was left for Bruce Wayne - the first man to outsmart me. Somehow, Batman got word of it - leading to him outsmarting me! Both times, I was undermined in a similar fashion. And on the second occasion, there seems to be a direct correlation between both men in question. Surely that couldn't mean...

"Bruce Wayne is Batman?"
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

Katar grunts as he picks himself up off the floor. He shakes his head and small pieces of glass fall out from under his helmet. The madman's words fade as he turns away mid-air and begins gliding away.
Katar can't help but laugh. Did that man really think it was going to be this easy?

"We're not done here, monster!"

Katar had barely finished his sentence as his mace left his hand. Seemingly flying of it's own will, the weapon finally slammed into the killer's back, sending him faltering down with an painful gasp.
Steadying himself, Katar ran toward the window and threw himself out. He flapped his wings as hard as he could, gaining immense speed. As the man in the red robes neared the pavement, Hawkman neared him. And then, moments before the murderer would be crushed against the ground, Katar caught him in his hands. But only for what seemed to be a fraction of a second, before jerking his hands back and sending the man rocketing down.
The man lay still, face down on the filthy street, as Hawkman gracefully touched down beside him. Hawkman bent down on one knee, ignoring the multitudes of people now beginning to circle the two men. He could hear and see from the corner of his eyes, cameras going off and people curiously asking each other what was going on.


"I shifted your momentum just enough so that you wouldn't be killed. But don't thank me. I did it so that the good men and women of this city wouldn't have to bother themselves with cleaning up a big red stain off the sidewalk."

Katar stood up and turned to face the crowd that had dared move a few steps closer to the scene. Still aiming his words at the man who lay gasping on the ground, but raising his voice so that all could hear, he called out

"And as for what I believe in...I believe in Gotham City. And I believe in justice."

IC:

As Brother Blood's winged foe nearly boasts to the crowd, Brother Blood does not fall into a fit of rage. He merely maintains a most chilling of smiles and slowly gets up from the pavement. The winged hero does not notice a thing from the crowd's reactions because they were already wearing such faces the duration of the last several minutes. He is entirely oblivious to the threat at hand.

Brother Blood starts to lick his lips with his tongue the closer he creeps towards Hawkman. His foot steps are near un-audible and Brother Blood's arm reaches outward as he grasps for the being in front of him. He makes contact, a soft touch on Hawkman's shoulder. Just as quickly, he pulls his arm back as Hawkman turns around.

"Justice, you say. I find it odd that you would believe in such a thing without understanding its true meaning. If there is anyone here whom is practicing Justice it is me. Ridding the Earth of all falsehoods and impurities not of the True Faith. But perhaps I will have to teach you!"

With lightning like reflexes, Brother Blood's head swings into Hawkman's shoulder and he takes a firm bite at his neck. He holds Hawkman still, his strength continuing to be supplemented as he gorges and more and more blood, and when he has had enough for what must be done, he releases Hawkman, pushing him to the floor.

"And now..."

Brother Blood places his hand out as if to embrace Hawkman in a union of hands.

"...I command thee, my winged minion. Rise!"

 

[Byrd Man]

The Joker cackles, catching the knife he had tossed into the air, as if Batman's threat were in jest. Of course, to him, everything was, anymore. Tightening his grip on the blade's handle, The Clown Prince fiercely lunges at his enemy.

"I beg to differ!"

The appearance of Batman, my fellow officers open fire. They seem to care more about killing Batman than the maniac who's been slaughtering people.

"Hold your fire!"

Both Batman and Joker retreat into Robinson Park's wodded area, a place where there's no lights and little hope for anyone who goes in there.

"Stand aside, *******s!"

Branden's stormtroopers burst onto the scene. Each of them clad in gear a soldier would be envious of.

"Okay, Jim. Grab a shotgun and a kevlar vest, you'll need it."

I furrow my brow as Branden looks at me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Loeb's orders. I'm leading a team to go after Batman, you're leading a team to go after Joker."

"Really? You get the S.W.A.T guys and I get the plain clothes cops. Who's on my team?"

I feel my stomach sink as he list them all.

"Bullock, Sawyer, Bard, Montoya and Merkel."

I rub my face and sigh.

"What if I refuse?"

A helicopter thumps above us and I hear Loeb's voice sqwak on the radio.

"I want you in those goddamn woods now, or so help me god I'll rip off your ****ing ****!"

Branden smirks as he puts his combat helmet on.

"She's got a mouth on her, eh?"

A few minutes later

I slip the bulletproof vest on over my clothes and grab my shotgun. I look at my team through my cracked glasses. It's a suicide mission and Loeb knows that. Which is why I want to take satisfaction in proving her wrong.

"Alright, let's hunt."

 

[SenseiofCheese]

IC:

With lightning like reflexes, Brother Blood's head swings into Hawkman's shoulder and he takes a firm bite at his neck. He holds Hawkman still, his strength continuing to be supplemented as he gorges and more and more blood, and when he has had enough for what must be done, he releases Hawkman, pushing him to the floor.

Hawkman screams out in pain. The onlookers gasp in shock and begin panicking, fleeing the scene. Katar can feel his body becoming numb, as the maniac finally releases him. With blood cascading out of his neck, he falls to the ground.

"And now..."

Brother Blood places his hand out as if to embrace Hawkman in a union of hands.

"...I command thee, my winged minion. Rise!"

Katar's hand move up to his neck as attempts to cover the wound. Crimson cascades out of the wound, and Katar begins to lose hope.

But suddenly, he begins to feel his legs move. Almost as beckoned by the monster staring down at him, Katar's entire body begins to shift and he slowly but surely sits up straight.
Confusion sets over him. Katar has no idea what is happening, what is making him move when by all accounts he should be laying still for the rest of eternity.
His vampiric attacker's blood-soaked lips curl into a smile as Hawkman finds himself standing steady on his own two feet.

"I....I..." Katar looks down at the man's outstretched hand. The very same feeling washes over him yet again and he can't help himself.
Katar reaches out and grabs the maniac's hand firmly, as that mysterious feeling becomes clear.

It's hope.

"...I'm going to hurt you, now."

Katar grimaces as his hand forms a vice and he twists the monster's hand. The wet crunch of his breaking bones brings a smile to Katar's face.

 

[trustyside-kick]

IC:

Brother Blood's facial expression is not from the cracking of his bones. No. The shock upon his face is of a failure to comprehend of how such a thing could be possible. Angry burning within him, he pulls his other arm back, and exerts such force upon Hawkman that it sends him flying across the street at the Cathedral gates.

"You...you trickster!"

Brother Blood looks down at his hand, but merely takes a deep breath, and twists the fingers back into place with the other hand. There is a slight feeling of pain, but only for a moment. His anger is too strong for him to truly feel it.

That should not have happened though. Every previous victim to Brother Blood's vampiric bite had fallen to his will. None can oppose it. And yet this winged warrior before him overcomes it. Although this is not all that puzzles Brother Blood.

"Most impressive. None before had so easily broken away from my hold."

Brother Blood licks his lips as he finishes his sentence, and his mind wonders as he tastes Hawkman's blood once more. Flashes come before him in his mind; memories of his bitten victim. But, something is strange. So many memories, so many different lives. How could this be? That would mean the being before has been...impossible.

That could be the only explanation of how this being before him could have so many memories. Immortality? He must have it. The cycle of Brother Blood in which he is the latest title holder, while awesome in its power and glory, is almost imperfect in Brother Blood's mind. He can fix this, however. And this human may prove to be his way to true glory.

"I have found something unique in your blood. I cannot quite fathom it...I must know more. Perhaps I had not sapped enough blood from your frail body. You are perhaps stronger than you look. All is well though. My bloodlusting hunger can never grow full. "

And he is off, soaring at incredibly speed as Hawkman lies against the Gates of the Cathedral.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Rhiannon finally begins to wake up in the trunk of a car.


My skull...ahhhh...probably going to have a concussion and...wait why can't I...

She opens her eyes and quickly discovers that she is bound and gagged.

Oh this is not good I have seen enough bad 80's TV to know that this is where the hero is usually thrown into the river or something.

Rhiannon struggles but realizes that it's no good.

Might as well play it cool for the moment.

Just then Eric opens the trunk and says, "Get her out of there and put her on the ground."

She is dropped onto the ground like a sack of mulch she grunts through the gag.

Eric then says, "Well well Rhiannon I gotta admit it was fun while it lasted but like all good things it has to end sometime. Figure I'll end it before it goes too far. sad part is as beautiful as you are it could've been real nice, but you had to be all moral and ethcial about this. Time to end it now. Get the sack."

One of the guys brings a sack of bricks and Eric says, "Sorry I don't have time to be too neat about this but this should work. You're a smart girl let's see if you can figure this one out. Sack of bricks, you in your current state inside of the sack, and the sack in the river. Think you got it figured out yet?"


Okay if I get out of this I have got to stop watching bad 80's TV.

Just then Greg steps forward and says, "All-right Eric that's it I don't care what you got on me it's not worth another person's life. When we get back I am so taking you down. You can forget graduating and get ready to get thrown out of the academy you and your cronies."

Eric chuckles and steps towards the trunk. He slowly slips a lead pipe in his hands and behind his back.

He says, "Well well well little ol' Greg is trying to be a big man in front of the pretty girl. Well if that's the way you feel then there is nothing more to say but goodbye."

Eric then proceeds to whack Greg over the head with the pipe twice.

He says, "I was already prepared to do one why not go for the daily double? All-right guys both in the bag and let's get out of here."

Two of them shove Rhiannon in the sack with Greg's dead body.

Hoperfully I can hold my breath just long enough. I can change into The Atom and get out of here.

She feels the sack being hoisted upward and then it hits the water.

The second that it hits the water Rhiannon turns into The Atom. As she shrinks the ropes and gag fall off of her. She shifts her weight so she floats to the surface with no effort at all.

Once she is out of the water and sees that Eric and his crew have left she turns back into Rhiannon Palmer.

Greg I swear your death will not be in vain

Rhiannon quickly gets to a pay phone and calls Commander Everett on his cell phone. She tells him everything about the bugs in his office and the black-lances.

Everett says, "All-right get ready to move on Holland within the hour."

She says, "Wait sir, how would you like to nail him for murder?"

Everett rplies, "Explain..."

Rhiannon says, "I have a plan and you can play key role in it...."

To be concluded.....

 

[MST3K 4ever]

(IC: Lex Luthor)

"Thank you for coming, ladies and gentlemen. I'm glad you're all here, because frankly, it's time we had a talk."

The throng of reporters and cameramen squaring off with Lex Luthor were taken aback by the man's attitude. Just a few short hours ago, clad in what he called a 'War-suit,' he had publicly engaged a rogue metahuman in combat, sending the woman tumbling into the East River. Now, he was standing at a podium, assuming an almost parental tone with the reporters, addressing them as if he were lecturing a rebellious teenager.

In his own mind, that was almost exactly what he was doing. The general public of Metropolis had put so much stock into Superman and his kind, and yet Lex himself was the one to save them from Giganta (whom he had later paid handsomely and invited to a special training facility to prepare for active duty) The media, quick to jump on the sensational, overlooked the importance of Luthor's actions, focusing instead on Superman's fight with the former hero Blackrock. Even now, many of the major news outlets were absent from his press conference, sending their reporters instead to cover some nonsense in Gotham City. More and more, the public's imagination was taken by these freaks, these usurpers of the world's destiny, and the accomplishments of humans were all but forgotten.

All that would have to change. And Luthor would begin that change tonight.

"No doubt many of you believe I called this conference to make a comment about my actions involving the metahuman we have identified as 'Giganta.' I've already provided you with all of the information I have regarding the situation.

"However, let's take a moment to look at what was really going on earlier today, and what it means for all of you. Mere days after the events of the Brainiac invasion, Metropolis finds itself besieged by the deranged Doctor Peter Silversone, under the alias 'Blackrock,' who openly blamed Superman for his turn to violence. Naturally, the alien responds in force, subduing Blackrock by administering a brutal beating.

"Simultaneously, an unidentified woman who only calls herself 'Giganta' appears in the heart of the city, challenging Superman to combat. Since he is preoccupied, however, I take the opportunity to respond, neutralizing the threat. Unfortunately, Giganta falls into the East River, and has yet to be found. Nevertheless, her appearance in the city was specifically to challenge Superman.

"In short, she was here because he is here."

The room broke out into momentary chaos as the reporters were spurred by his statement, trying to get some sort of response in. However, Lex kept his calm and waved them down before continuing.

"Think about it. Lobo. Neutron. Brainiac. Blackrock. Giganta. All of them were menaces who came to Metropolis with the express purpose of bringing in the alien from Krypton. The Daily Planet once wrote an article claiming that Superman works to 'inspire' the people of this country, and indeed, this world, to greater acts of good. Thus far, however, the only inspiration he's provided since his arrival has been incitement to super-human violence and terrorism.

"One needn't look very far to back up that statement. Just look at what is happening in Gotham City. Ever since the debut of the vigilante calling himself 'Batman,' street crime has been on a steady decrease, replaced instead with a steadily-rising number of costumed murderers. I'm told that even as I speak, the Gotham authorities are being held at bay by the mass-murderer and terrorist known as the Joker. Every one of this new breed of criminals began their rampages after Batman arrived on the scene."

Luthor furrowed his brow, planting his hands firmly on the corners of the podium.

"What we are looking at, in the short-term, is a series of events all escalating from the actions of anonymous citizens, apparently the unforeseen results of good intentions. In the long-term, however, we are looking at the slow but sure marginalization of humanity's future.

"What would happen, for instance, if these metahuman terrorists began to organize? Or if the so-called 'heroes' decided to act not only as law enforcement, but become judge and jury? The world is becoming not even a battlefield, but a playground for these metahumans, who are able to impose their will without even the slightest hint of repercussions from us mere humans.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, no more."

The man had a fire in his eyes, a determination to an ideal that he seemed to be the only one to understand, let alone believe.

"The time has come for humanity to take our world back from those who would have us be little more than bystanders in our own lives. We as a species must accept responsibility for our own fate, and administer the consequences to those who so arrogantly defy our laws. The time has come for society to stand against the tide of chaos.

"That is why today, I am announcing the formation of Society. As outlined in my book, this Society will be comprised of several like-minded citizens, both in the public and private sectors, who will work towards preparing humanity for the tomorrow that is to come. Together, we will provide the solutions for this world that Superman and his kind cannot: technological advancements, improvements in diplomatic relations, new philosophies and approaches to analytical thinking. We will achieve this brave new world without having to look up in the sky for our answers.

"And before you ask, no, Society is not meant to be an exclusive club for the upper class. Unlike the elitists that believe solutions can only come from wealth and influence, we in the Society welcome all people from all walks of life to join us. You do not have to have money, or fame, or some secret advantage over your fellow man. All you have to do is want a better tomorrow.

"Now...questions?"

The room erupted into a cacophony of noise as reporters tried to talk over each other. Inwardly, Lex Luthor smiled.

Now the new age begins...

Giganta!!

Doris watches the Luthor presser in a blonde wig and blue contact-lenses.

Oh my oh my...note to self...Luthor is one slick sucker...if he had been in charge of the ulti-bod project he could've convinced me to do it for free. He is going to be a great one to learn from.

She makes sure that she makes eye-contact with Lex.

Once they make eye-contact she bows her head in respect and walks away heading towards the Lexcorp towers. She sits in the lobby and makes sure that the security camera sees her.

Once the presser is over Lex will see me on video and then I'll be asked up to his office. I think I can learn a lot from him...he has one thing no other man has ever truly had from me ever....my respect.

 

[SenseiofCheese]

IC:

"I have found something unique in your blood. I cannot quite fathom it...I must know more. Perhaps I had not sapped enough blood from your frail body. You are perhaps stronger than you look. All is well though. My bloodlusting hunger can never grow full. "

And he is off, soaring at incredibly speed as Hawkman lies against the Gates of the Cathedral.

Fighting through what has now become almost unbearable pain, Hawkman grabs a part of the dented gate and pulls himself up with some difficulty.
In the months leading up to this moment he had never met someone so fierce. So strong.
As the robed man flew at stunning speed toward him, everything seemed to slow down. For a moment, Katar could sense everything. The massive wings closed in around him, enveloping his entire torso.

And suddenly, in a blink of an eye, Katar screamed like a caged animal. The wings jerked open to reveal his full, threatening wingspan. And he was off towards his attacker, fist raised furiously in the air.
And just as the two titans clashed, one thought entered Katar's mind.
A thought that he hadn't allowed himself to have for a moment.

What if I can't do this.
What if I can't beat him?

 

[Batman]

It had been three weeks since he had last donned the ring, and Harold "Hal" Jordan was already thinking about the next three without it. Since returning to his post at the Ferris family owned Coast City Airlines, as a mechanic, he had rejoined a life he had been previously unsure he would ever get a taste of again. Being promoted, out of the blue, to the most elite squadron of officers in the galaxy had that effect. But now, Hal was free of it for a change. He hadn't even bothered to recharge his ring's power since the attack by Despero. For once, in a long time, Hal finally felt like he was right back where he belonged.

Throwing a rusted wrench into his toolbox, Hal zipped up the front of his mechanic's jumpsuit, and wiped the oil from his brow. A tanker had just landed on the airstrip, moments earlier, and it was leaking fuel. Even before he was ready to go out and solve the problem, Hal knew what he was going to do, and how to do it. That's how good he felt that he was at his job. There wasn't a thing on this planet he couldn't fly, anymore. Especially since becoming a Green Lantern.

"Copy one to station. This is houston, in tower one. Where's that damn mechanic?!"

Hal smirked, picking up his walkie talkie. The job may have drove other people crazy, but this was music to his ears.

"Keep your whities on, tower. I'm already up and out.", He reassured them, sarcastically, grabbing his toolbox and shutting off the communication before tower could respond.

As approached the exit of the room, without a care in the world, Hal shut his locker closed, and strolled out, ready to face a heated argument with both his superiors and the pilot on that tanker. Again. But he didn't care. Because while everyone on the airline staff were a bunch of a tightassed yutzes who wouldn't last two weeks without him, at least they were a bunch of tightassed yutzes who looked human.

But by the time Hal left, and the room was vacant, no one was around to notice the eerily bright green glow that emitted from within Hal's locker. After a third glow, the locker bursted open, in a blast of energy. In seconds, a tiny object floated out from within, and turned, following the trail of Jordan's leave. As it did, voices came from within it's shell, as it traced it's owners whereabouts with relative easy.

The Green Lantern ring had manually recharged itself.

":WARNING:. :WARNING:. Distress Beacon Activated. Immediate Orders Confirmed. Seek And Alert Ringbearer 2814.", The ring commanded itself, before flying off in a trail of green light.

Hal Jordan had been given a taste of freedom.

But he was about to get a rude awakening.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Commander Everett calls a black-lance by the name of Jeff Blair into his office. He calls him saying he needs to discuss a graduation requirement.

Assistant D-A Rachel Dawes is sitting off to the side.

Everett says to Blair, "Now Cadet Blair I have actually called you here to see if you are willing to make a deal now or after you and your associates are indicted."

Blair responds, "Sir? I have no idea what you are talking about."

Everett says, "Don't play dumb with us Cadet. We've got you and your friends on numerous charges of academic misconduct, but the one we are interested in is the murder of Greg Newsome."

Blair shifts his weight slightly as Rachel says, "Help us now and I will see to it the judge goes easy on you. If not you are going down with everyone else."

Blair says, "I have no idea what you guys are talking about. Now if you'll excuse I have a paper to write."

Rachel stands up and says, "All-right I just want it noted that we tried to help you out by letting you do the right thing and you turned us down."

Blair says, "Sure whatever."

Rachel says, "Besides we don't need your help anyway we have all the help we need."

She crosses over to Everett's closet opens the door to reveal Rhiannon Palmer standing there.

Rachel says, "Oh did I forget to add on attempted murder as well?" She smiles at Rhiannon and says, "Sorry about forgetting the attempted murder charge."

Rhainnon says, "Not a prob. Treat me to dinner when this is all over and we'll call it even."

Rachel nods and says, "Sure. You like Italian?"

Blair's stunned expression is noticable for all to see. He begins to turn pale and says, "How...you're supposed to be dead...We killed...I mean I thought we...."

Rhiannon says, "I'm a big fan of Harry Houdini. Point is how do you know about my supposed death?"

Blair straightens up and looks to Rachel and says, "What do you want?"

Everett pulls out a tablet, a pencil looks at Blair and says, "Start writing down everything. From your days with the black-lances to Newsome's murder. I want every detail right down to the color of your shoes."

Blair sits down and begins writing as quickly as he can.

Everett opens his drawer and drops a series of tiny mobile listening devices. He says, "Holland will never see this coming."

Rachel then picks up the phone and says, "Sgt. Dempsey this is Rachel dawes go get 'em we got what we need."

She hangs up the phone as another uniformed officer enters the room. Everett motions to Rhiannon to step out of the room.

They leave the room and Everett says, "Well looks like the black-lances are going down and Holland is about to go down for murder one."

Rhiannon nods and says, "Looks like things are just about done."

Everett says, "All but one thing. You risked your life and watched a fellow cadet die during all of this. Cadet Palmer...Rhiannon you have more than proved yourself. Your time here at the academy is over you have more than proved yourself here, and considering what you'll be doing is lab-work you're more than ready. Good luck..." He extends his hand and they shake hands and he says, "Officer Palmer."

Rhiannon smiles with pride and walks away.

As she leaves her dorm for the last time she sees Eric being led into a police car.

Eric is stunned to see her and Rhiannon waves goodbye.

 

[Batman]

I had held out the slim hope that with time, if I focused on other cases, the madman calling himself The Joker would finally re-emerge on his own. It's only ironic that such an error in judgement costed the lives lost tonight by his hand. And nearly the life of a man I consider to be a friend. But the moment my fist connects with the mask now adorning his face, it makes the unbearable wait all the more worth it. Tonight, he's going to pay for all the murders. All the crimes. Every last one of his sins will be accounted for, when I throw him in Arkham.

"You're finished,", I growl, as he hits the ground with a roll.

My threats means nothing to him. He simple cackles a sadistic taunt, and throws the knife at me. I've come to realize that while other criminals are of a superstitious nature, willing to succumb to even the most simplistic of visages... The Joker is different. His fear is never evident, both in his crimes and his techniques. Which makes me fear his capabilities all the more.

The knife clashes against the symbol on my chest armor, and breaks in an instant. He doesn't seem surprised. Infact, his thrill becomes prominent, as he makes it to his feet.

"Well, well, Seems the rodent isn't invulnerable after all. And to think, they actually cower in fear of you!"

That laugh. It seems to bother me most of all. He laughs at the very notion of murder and chaos, and uses it to further push me beyond my limitations. He's gauging me to do something I regret. But I can't give in. It's all that seperates me from becoming his equal. I throw out my cape, and embed a spring-loaded Batarang into his arm, silencing the laugh as he whelps in pain.

"Why did you murder those people tonight?!", I demand, charging him with another roundhouse punch. "And why the others murders?! Answer me!"

The Joker gasps for air, between the giggles, grabbing my arms in defense as I lock my hands around his throat. It would be so easy, and so justified, to do what I briefly consider. He's killed so many people, both tonight and since his arrival, and with an alarming lack of effort.

"Oh, *ack* no you don't, Batface,", He manages to say, furthering my anger. "If you don't get the lead up, there's no reason to... ugh, to let you in on the gag!"

I throw him back, violently slamming him into a tree. He falls on his back, laughing even harder, despite the pain I'm putting him through. My suspicions about him treating this as if it all were a joke are blatantly confirmed. How could a man be driven this psychotic? This deranged? There has to be an answer... maybe even a cure for his condition. But that's for Arkham to decide. My tactics will solve nothing, if I continue.

Grabbing him from the ground, I drag him further into the woods with one hand, and tighten my grip around his throat. Even then, his laugh echoes throughout the area. It's beginning to unnerve me.

"Oooh, didn't know you liked it rough!", He taunts.

Then I feel my arm twist, in a surprise jolt of pain. He's managed to release himself, and worse, I'm only now reminded of his agility. I grit my teeth, trying to pry him loose, but it's too late. He slams me against a tree, and throws me to the ground. My head's already spinning my the time he's released me.

"Why the rush, Batman?", He asks, lowly. "After all, our little triumphant battle of will is just beginning. Those cops I slaughtered were only at the top of my list of events."

"Dont bet on it,", I respond, trying to maintain my composure. "The only thing you're in for tonight is a prison cell."

He laughs, once more, grabbing me and throwing me against another tree. Faster than I imagined, stronger than I would have guessed... everything about this man is unpleasantly unpredictable.

"Oh, do spare me the bore.", He continues, mocking me. "You Gotham vigilantes and your honor codes are enough to drive a man like me back on the deep end! Don't you ever just want to give it up?"

"No,", I snap back, lunging at him with a kick. "Never. Not with scum like you running rampant in the world."

Before I can block his attack, The Joker punches me across the chin, taking advantage of my exposed jawline. Not allowing me the chance to suffer from that blow, he grabs me by my cowl's horns, pulls, and launches my face into his knee. To say it hurts, even with the armor, wouldn't give the feeling justice, as I roll back, and stumble. And still, the maniac never relents his laugh.

"I'm the scum? HA!", He announces, unsheathing another knife. "I appreciate the credit, Batboob. Fact is, I'd love nothing more than to drag this town to the deepest depths of hell with me! But oh, the irony, I'm not to blame. No, no..."

He throws the knife at me. I catch it, but it still manages to scrape the vulnerable palm of my glove. Blood trickles down my hand, as I discard it, and try to get back to my feet. His words thrash in and out of my head. But I still manage to catch the geist of it. Particularly what he says last.

"Not with freaks of your calibur hanging around!"

That's it. I've had it. He's going down.

With a lunge, I successfully block his next attack, and slam my cowl into his mask, shattering the nose off of it. He stumbles back, ready to spring up again, but my following drop kick hinders that decision. I grab him, sharply, and growl even louder, trying everything I have to get accross one, lone point: He's made me angry. And that's his mistake.

"You'll never convince me of that!", I shout into his face.

"How convienient for you, then!"

My eyes widen, as I feel a stinging sensation embed itself into my armor's sleeve. Turning, my fears are confirmed when I notice a trickling, steaming liquid running out of the lapel of his jacket.

Acid. Damn him.

Dropping him, I reach into my belt with an anesthetic to null the burn, before he passes the armor. But The Joker is relentless, taking advantage of my state of alert. He pushes past me, slamming me into another tree, and darts into the woods.

"Run, run, as fast as you can! You can't catch me, I'll kill you, man! HAHAHA!"

Have to run after him. Can't let him escape.

My attempt to tend to the acid and persue him throws me off by a minute, at least, but when I finally do, I take to it like never before. My costume was specifically designed to allow freedom in my joints where other clothes wouldn't, which leaves me at another advantage. But that's not what worries me. It's the possibility that he'll kill again before I can reach him.

Voices bark out, behind me. I remember the police blockade, when I originally saved Jim from the madman's hold. Loeb must've sent the task force after the both of us. As much as I hate to admit it, the situation is becoming worse by every passing moment...

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Mercy Reef, Florida

My old sedan shutters to a stop at the beach parking lot. Bottles of Jack Daniels and packs of Oreos are scatted on the front seat. I scarf down one more oreo and kill off the open bottle. I adjust my rear view mirror and stare at my reflection, my hair's unkempt and my eyes are bloodshot.

In a matter of seconds, my hair turns from it's jet black and sloppy state to blond and spiky, my face follows suit with my hair and body. By the time I step out the car, I don't even look like the same person.

"Sup, bro?"

One of the surfer's on the beach looks at me, I nod and reply back.

"Nothing much,man. Just looking to get in on some killer waves."

"You might have to wait."

"For what?"

He points towards the water and the crashing waves.

"A.C. is hamming it up."

I smile as I see the young man surfing on the water gracefully. I figured it wouldn't take me long to find him.

He goes to the peak of the wave break and flys off, grabbing the front of his board as he sails through the air.

The small crowd that's gathered cheers widly was the man washes to the shore.

"Now, now. Hold you applause until after the show."

The man I'm standing with waves towards him and gets his attention.

"YO! A.C.!"

The surfer walks across the sand to his friend and I.

"Sup, Sammy? Who's the new guy?"

"I don't know, bro. I was just going to ask..."

I turn on my charm. Crossing my arms as I talk.

"I'm John Jones. I use to surf out in Cali."

"Well, I'm Sammy and this is The Reef's best surfer, swimer,..you name the water sport, he's good at it."

The surfer smiles and rubs the back of his head.

"Please, Sammy. No need to keep bragging.....did I say stop? Umm, anyways. I'm Arthur Curry, everyone calls me A.C."

A.C. holds out his hand and I shake it.

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Same here. Wanna hit the waves?"

"Why not? As long as it's not fire. I have this thing...about fire."
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

IC: DETECTIVE JOHN GRAYSON

I place the bowl on pasta on the dinner table as I announce, "Dick, dinner's ready."

My son turns off the television and hops over the couch. One of these days, he's going to break that. But don't tell him because he won't listen. Kids will be kids.

"Sorry for spaghetti again," I apologize, "But my cooking skills are extremely limited. Usually your mother handles...this kind of stuff." My voice trails off at the end. I know Dick's mature enough to talk about it, but I don't like bringing it up nonetheless.

"Mom's going to be alright, isn't she?" he asks.

I hate answering this question. The answer is obvious, but it feels wrong to ramp up Dick's hopes when I'm not even sure what's going to happen. Even so, I try to casually respond, "Of course. Your mother is a fighter - she always has been. As long as I've known her, she's battled this disease, and I don't expect her to give up now."

He nods, but he has nothing else to add. For that matter, neither do I.

"Anyway, what's new with you?" I ask while picking up The Gotham Times.

Dick shrugs. "I'm not sure if I want to do Track & Field again this year," he admits.

"I thought you loved Track & Field," I respond honestly. "You're really good at it, anyway."

"I know, but sometimes I feel like I need a break, you know? I have swimming in the summer and soccer in the fall. I just want to take this spring off," he explains.

As I turn the page, I state, "It's your decision. Make sure you make the right one."
​

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Robinson Park

I squint through the darkness of the small woods. My shotgun firmly in my hands as I making crunching footsteps on the dead leaves.

"This is Gordon." I whisper into my walkie-talkie.

"Let me get a head count out there."

"Montoya here, nothing yet."

"Bard, I got nothing but darkness."

"Jack **** on my end."

"I see something! No, it's just a bird."

"Squat on my end, Jim."

We're on a diffrent channel than the S.W.A.T team, just to keep it nice and simple.

I think back to the rat in my team, I have a feeling whoever it is, they'll make their move here in the darkness of Robinson Park.​

 

[Catman_prb]

Roman Sionis rocked back and forwards on his chair, watching the news report that played out on his huge tv screen. A hurried female reporter was shouting frantically into her microphone over the sound of gunfire. She was cut off as a hail of machine gun fire thudded into her and her cameraman. A maniacal laughter could be heard over the top, ringing out over the gunfire and the shouts. Roman switched off the tv.

"Now that Joker, he has potential. If there any real point in ripping up Robinson Park, I'd take my hat off to the guy. And the laugh, well that's a trademark and a half my friend. Kids'll never think of clowns the same way again," he said, speaking to the room at large.

"Who're you talking to Roman?" Tom Blake said, leaning in to whisper in his ear. Roman jumped and fell out of his chair. Blake laughed heartily.

"****...****...I killed you, right?" Black Mask said, crawling away from the apparation that stood before him. Blake seemed to shimmer, like he wasn't completely there.

"That's right," Blake said, nodding.

"So what the **** is goin on?" Black Mask asked, standing up.

"Who knows? Maybe I'm a figment of your imagination. Maybe I was sent by heaven to give you a hard time. Or maybe you're going insane. Well, insaner..." Blake said, looking at him with cold dead eyes. He leaned in to Roman's neck again.
"But one thing's for sure...I'm gonna make your life a living hell," he whispered.

 

[Batman]

"Ruuun, Forest! Ruuun fer yer life! HAHAHAHA!"

The Joker's monstrous laugh echoed throughout the park, as the homicidal maniac treaded into darkness, positively thrilled at the thought of his own handiwork.

He hadn't got to knock off the Captain, but he had taken plenty of lives in the process. The police would surely respond with hostile violence towards the rapidly growing costumed society of Gotham City. And oh, how unfortunate that would be for the caped idiot behind him... desperately, pathetically playing the hero of it all. The Joker laughed even harder at that thought, to the point where he had to lean over and breathe. The irony of it all was too great to stand. The police lose a few monkeys in the barrel, and given the often accused figurehead of it's origin, who would be to blame? Not The Joker. Not The Scarecrow, Two-Face, or Mr. Freeze. It would be Batman. Batman. Batman!

It was all so deliciously perfect. It was as if a stack of dominoes, seconds away from the first one's slightest tilt. The only possible fallback from the situation was that The Joker had been forced to play coy, and allow the genius of this plan to be credited to someone else. But in the longrun, it didn't matter. The Bat would pay for this, Dent would eventually fail, and all of the city would go to him. God, this has got to be driving Batso positively... batty!

This is maddening.

The soles of my boot smash across trails of puddles, as I try and catch up with the trail of laughter that the madman's practically handing to me. He's taken a considerable number of casualties already, but I haven't failed yet. Nor do I intend to. One way or another, I'm leaving the grounds with an assurance of victory. But somehow, that becomes the least of my worries, when I hear the gruff shouts behind me. Branden's men are catching up. And if I don't keep moving after The Joker, they will provide his escape for him, in their capture of me.

"HURRY IT THE HELL UP! THE FREAKS WENT THIS WAY!"

I'm not even worried about my own safety, at this point. I just know that the minute they've caught me, it's over. The Joker will have won... and he'll probably take all of Gotham in celebration of that. All the more reason to keep treking, Bruce. You haven't lost yet. Let's keep it that way, if you can manage it...

"Unbelieveable."

Harvey Dent caught his coin once more, a satisfied smirk firmly shaping upon his lips. The news report before him told all that he had needed: What started out as a randomized attack against the citizens of Gotham was turning into pure anarctic chaos. And in the center of it all lied the one man that Harvey had wished he had killed when he had the chance. Truly, this was far more than he ever expected of the night. It was practically double that.

"I Share Your Sentiments,", Mr. Freeze interjected, emotions voided of his remark as he blankly stared at the screen. "Perhaps We Have Underestimated The Capabilities Of This 'Joker'."

"He's a psychopath.", Poison Ivy snarled, yet ever curiously continuing to intake every bit of news from the report. "He's far too reckless. Batman and the police almost had him!"

"First of all, you're one to talk about psychotics, weed lady.", Two-Face growled, as Harvey caught the coin again, slipping it into the pocket of his suit. "And secondly, he's proven himself to be quite cunning, aswell. He's suceeded in the task, and the police are still struggling."

"Which Leads Us With An Inquiry,", Freeze stated, turning to Two-Face. "You Still Never Told Us As To What Exactly The Goal Of The Joker's Rampage Was, Two-Face. Are We To Simply 'Stay Put', As You Put It Before?"

Harvey stood, fixing his tie.

"Give me some credit, Victor.", Harvey responded. "I said we'd stay put, but only until the time was right. Now that Batman and the police are distracted, we make our move."

Picking up a revolver from the table before him, Two-Face clicked it, and loaded the chamber, placing it into a holster on his pants. Slicking back his hair, Two-Face led the two towards the door, and opened it, allowing the three to exit. With Harvey, part one of a plan was never important. It was part two that piqued his interest.

"Freeze. Ivy. We're gonna rally up some troops."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Steam rises from my mouth as I breath. It's getting colder as the night goes on.

I slip on a patch of ice and stumble forward. I almost fall to the ground, but I regain my composure.

"HAHAHAHAHAHA"

Joker's laugh echoes through out the forest. My walkie talkie kicks to life as everyone starts to chatter.

"Holy ****."

"That was him...right?"

"Best believe your ass it was."

I don't comment, instead I keep on walking through the shadows.

"Don't move." Someone whispers softly in my ear.

I feel the cold steel of a gun barrel dig into my back.

"You're the rat, aren't you?"

The person in the shadows pushes me forward and I stumble, losing my shotgun and my walkie talkie as I fall.

"Don't be so surprised, Captain."

I push myself up in time to see the traitor emerge from the shadows.

"Who else would have sold you out, Cap?"

My eyes widen in shock.

"Merkel?"

"Winner, winner, chicken dinner."​

 

[Blacklight]

ULTIMATE
​

Prowling the rooftops of Gotham, lies me, the Huntress, looking for prey in order to establish justice throughout the city. Gotham is too large a city for a few people to protect it. That's where I come in. I help in the effort to relinquish crime in this town. Although lately, since my heart was broken, doing my job has been hard to regulate...

I suddenly spot a mugging nearby, and fired my grappling hook from my crossbow, riding down it as it latches onto a ledge.

ZIIIIIIP!!

"Give me ya money!"

"Noo! Help!"

Then I swoop down and land on one knee, slowly getting up, making sure that I'm intimidating my opponent.

"Let. Her. Go. Now!" I say slowly, approaching him step by step, pulling out my crossbow. He was distracted long enough for her to get away, so that the hunt can really begin...

"I heard it's mugger season this month..."

Then with a drop-kick to his face, he was down. I slowly raised my crossbow and aimed it between his eyes.

"Please! Don't! Who are you!?!"

Then I pulled the trigger. The arrow swiftly went downward, resulting in a thud. Then I turned and walked away, looking back at the arrow that impaled the ground, pinning his jacket to it. Inches from his head...


"I'm the Huntress..."

 

[Feature]

REX TYLER: HOURMAN
Season II - Part 7


For a long time, nothing happened. Rex sat in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Minutes passed. Nearly a half hour. Rex became convinced that he'd failed yet again. He expected that this dissapointment would cause him to throw a fit. He thought he would yell and break things and curse God up in his heaven. Instead, he simply shook his head solemnly and cursed himself for daring to hope.

Rex reached down and opened a drawer with one hand. He used his other to take out a piece of blotter paper soaked with LSD. He put the paper on his tongue and closed his eyes. It was then that he realized he was still holding the handle of the drawer in his hand. He'd torn it off the drawer without even trying. His drug worked...

Miraclo worked.

Horrified, Rex spat out the blotter paper. But it was too late... he'd already ingested the drug. He began to panic, unsure what the combination of these drugs would cause. He got up and ran to the bathroom, covering the distance in an unrealistically short amount of time. He tried to open the door, but accidentally tore it off its hinges. He put his head in the toilet bowl and began trying to gag himself. In a matter of seconds, he blacked out.


**********


Rex awoke on the floor of his apartment. He sat up and looked around. Everything seemed okay. I mean... things were sort of in a state of disarray. A table had been overturned and the fridge was left open, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. He had been lucky.

No sooner had this thought crossed Rex's mind than he noticed his hands were covered in blood. It looked like he was wearing scarlet gloves up to his elbows. In a frenzy, he checked himself for wounds, but found none. He was not relieved. He was more frightened. What had he done?

Rex frantically searched his apartment until he came to his office, where the mangled body of a police officer lay in a heap. The head was a shapeless mush, bludgeoned beyond recognition. Most of the limbs had been broken and bent into unnatural positions. Smelling the rank scent of death and the metallic odour of blood, Rex vomited on the floor.

Things were always getting worse.

 

[Spike_x1]

Neutron. There was a time when Nathanial Tryon might have been annoyed or insulted by his new moniker, but remembering what he had become and the rage that now ruled his life...

...the new name just seemed so fitting.

He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time, existing as a being composed of nuclear energy, yet dispersed harmlessly across what remained of the Metropolis suburb that had been known as Swan Heights, after detonating himself during his fight with Blackrock. He could reassemble himself again. He had done it before after the first time that his essence had been atomized -- He could do it again! Superman still had hell to pay!

The very air within the former Swan Heights seemed to come to life with a glowing orange mist as a small crowd gathered together. Despite the area being quarantined, a small percentage of the Metropolis homeless population had settled down in the demolished suburb, and were about to regret it.

In the center of the radioactive fog, the figure of a man began to take shape until Neutron was alive again. Resurrecting himself had used a lot of energy, but it didn't matter; Tryon was a walking nuclear chain reaction. He'd replenish his lost energy soon enough. "IIII'mm... baack," Nathan remarked, noticing that he was slowly improving on relearning how to speak compared to his last effort. If he had a physical representation of a mouth, Neutron would be smiling. "Superman."

The homeless people who had gathered around Neutron weren't stupid. Each of them had enough common sense to put two and two together and recognize the thing in front of them. Unanimously, the group started to silently walk away before Neutron noticed them, but the noise of shoes crunching against gravel and ash was like a marching band in contrast to the dead silence of the small wasteland.

"Gooodbye," was all that Nathan said as, in a flash of light, he reduced the crowd of onlookers to dust and took to the skies.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Snow breaks the dark skyline and falls to the ground. Gotham's first snow of the season. It may also be my last.

"Why, Merkel? We trusted you."

Merkel clicks his tounge and laughs.

"C'mon, Jim. MONEY! Being self-righteous may be fine and all, but it doesn't pay the bills."

"Well, I hope those thity pieces of silver were worth it."

"Aww, don't play that hand. Acting holier than thou. You'e just like the rest of them. Bending the rules how you see fit. Besides, cap. I know something about you nobody knows."

He grins and digs into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled photo.

"See that?"

It's a picture of me, standing on a rooftop, talking to Batman.

"Nice picture, huh? I always thought I had an eye for photography. I have to admit, this is better than seeing that *** Bullock shoving his tounge down some guy's throat."

My rage slowly builds, I try to reach for my backup tapped to the small of my back as slowly as I can...

"Stop trying to reach for your backup. It's pathetic, you're only going to delay the inevitable."

"You rat bastard, you sold us up the river."

"And I'd do it again. All you detectives thing your hot ****. Espically you MCU boys. Looking down at us beat cops with your noses. If it means I get to put you sons of *****es in your place, so be it. It's going to be a shame, you accidently getting hit by me as I try to shoot the Joker. I expect your funeral is gonna be real sad. All those uniform officers. Sarah, Barbara and little Jimmy crying their eyes out. I'll comfort them the best I can."

He levels his gun at me and starts to squeeze the trigger.

"Good bye, Jim. See you in hell."​

 

[Batman]

"Oh, isn't this amusing!"

Both Captain Gordon and Officer Merkel's eyes collectively widened, as they spotted, in the distance, the grim and eerily grinning figure of the very man they had been sent to capture. The Joker clapped, once, carelessly leaning against the tree. He had been watching this little fiasco of a betrayl unfolding ever since the dear corrupt Officer mentioned something about a chicken dinner, and he was all too pleased to see how it had rattled the dear Captain Gordon to the bone. However, this was The Joker's night. Not some half-assed amatuer in a cop's skin.

"I mean, here I am, minding my own buisness, slaughtering a few bozo's here and there of your so called 'fellow officers',", He announced, producing a bloodied knife from his coat's pocket. "And by god, what do I end up stumbling upon? A good ole' fashioned stab in the back! Bravo, good sir!"

The Joker tossed the knife behind him, and seamlessly moved over to Merkel, who suddenly became petrified with fear over the manic clown's prescence. But The Joker simply threw his arm over Merkel's shoulder, chuckling to himself, leaving Gordon to look on as Merkel kept the gun aimed at the Captain.

"Sadly, my compadre, you're moving in on my territory. Y'see, just a wee few moments ago, I had our dear police captain in a stranglehold, myself. And had a certain rodent obsessed do-gooder not interfered, who knows what I could've accomplished at Gordo's expense?", The Joker continued on, grabbing Merkel's arm with quick precision. "Ever since being denied the chance to gut him like a Thanksgiving Turkey, I've been thinking... perhaps I wouldn't have gutted him, after all! I mean, why stuff him... when I can shoot him?!"

Before Merkel could protest, a loud shot rang out, in the woods. Gordon watched in horror in Merkel screamed out, as loud as he could, dropping onto his back. The Joker had used Merkel's gun to shoot his first and second toes off. Turning around to face the crawling, bleeding copper, The Joker lightly discarded his weapon, and leaped onto the distraught officer.

Staring down through the slits in his mask, The Joker's hatred for all symbols of authority, be they corrupt or sincere, showed through his eyes, as Merkel began whimpering in fear. The Joker grabbed him by the arms, and pinned them down, sinsterly cackling as he kicked Merkel's stub of a toe, only furthering the officer's screams.

"Oh, but what's the fun in shooting people anymore?!", The Joker exclaimed over Merkel's agony. "After all, it's so cliche. So overdone! See, I'm a man of originality. If it's been done before, either I did it first, or I don't do it at all. That's why I've invented a trick to the game..."

Grabbing the flower lapel of his jacket, The Joker squeezed it, once, directing it at Merkel's face. At first, the officer felt nothing except a thin strife of air his his nose. The two paused, as Merkel looked up, with teary eyes, confused at the madman's attempt at killing him. Pushing himself up, The Joker turned, and strolled away from the officer, slowly, quietly. Merkel looked up, baffled, and angered.

"What the hell... How did... what are you trying to pull, freak?!", Merkel yelled back, still obviously pained by his foot wound.

The Joker turned his head, and waved, lightly, as if he were intending to leave. Merkel looked around, seeing if his pistol was lying anywhere near him. The maniac would pay for humilating him like that. And if The Joker thought Merkel was going to take this lying down, he...

He felt funny.

Merkel snickered, a little, in a reflexive bout of bizairee movement. The Joker raised his head, calmly, mentally counting up the moments that would lead to what he had been planning for the corrupt officer. The officer tried to get to his feet, and attack the clown, but he was interrupted by a strange fit of muscular twitching. Grabbing at his face, as it slowly, yet agonizingly burned, Merkel's grunts of pain quickly turned to screams of agony... and then laughs of torment. Grabbing at his sides, Merkel doubled over, as his complexion turned pale, as his lips peeled back into a hideous, inhumanly sizeable grin. But the worst of it was the laughter.

"Hahaha... HAHAHAHA... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The officer desperately tried to crawl to his feet, and demand to know what The Joker had done to him... but the laughter was too strong. His muscles wouldn't budge of their own will, his breathing shortened, and his eyes poured tears of fear and happiness, all interwoven into one, and beyond Merkel's own control. The Joker simply stood above him, hands behind his back, looking down at his increasingly crazed victim with an unsaid delight.

"That's it, rent-a-cop. Laugh it up! Bust a gut! HAHAHAHA!", The Joker cackled, slapping his own knee, before unexpectedly lunging onto the officer.

Seconds later, Captain Gordon could only stare as the madman began picking and plucking, violently, causing blood to splatter everywhere. Soon, only his laughter remained, as Merkel's body stopped moving. It wasn't until a stray eyeball flew over The Joker's back, and landed into the wet grass, that Gordon was sure his traitorous partner was dead. But even after that was apparent, The Joker kept going at him, picking apart each and every sign of skin and muscle tissue with his own hands.

Finally, the madman stopped laughing, and turned back to Gordon, blood smeared all over his mask. Taking his equally as blooded gloved fingers, The Joker etched them over the mask's features, covering it in even more. As Gordon seemed to want to be sick, The Joker stood, and cracked his knuckles, before peculiarly turning his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. My manners and common decency must've flown the coop, tonight. Did you want me to save you a piece?"

 

[Byrd Man]

"Oh, isn't this amusing!"​

Both Captain Gordon and Officer Merkel's eyes collectively widened, as they spotted, in the distance, the grim and eerily grinning figure of the very man they had been sent to capture. The Joker clapped, once, carelessly leaning against the tree. He had been watching this little fiasco of a betrayl unfolding ever since the dear corrupt Officer mentioned something about a chicken dinner, and he was all too pleased to see how it had rattled the dear Captain Gordon to the bone. However, this was The Joker's night. Not some half-assed amatuer in a cop's skin.

"I mean, here I am, minding my own buisness, slaughtering a few bozo's here and there of your so called 'fellow officers',", He announced, producing a bloodied knife from his coat's pocket. "And by god, what do I end up stumbling upon? A good ole' fashioned stab in the back! Bravo, good sir!"

The Joker tossed the knife behind him, and seamlessly moved over to Merkel, who suddenly became petrified with fear over the manic clown's prescence. But The Joker simply threw his arm over Merkel's shoulder, chuckling to himself, leaving Gordon to look on as Merkel kept the gun aimed at the Captain.

"Sadly, my compadre, you're moving in on my territory. Y'see, just a wee few moments ago, I had our dear police captain in a stranglehold, myself. And had a certain rodent obsessed do-gooder not interfered, who knows what I could've accomplished at Gordo's expense?", The Joker continued on, grabbing Merkel's arm with quick precision. "Ever since being denied the chance to gut him like a Thanksgiving Turkey, I've been thinking... perhaps I wouldn't have gutted him, after all! I mean, why stuff him... when I can shoot him?!"

Before Merkel could protest, a loud shot rang out, in the woods. Gordon watched in horror in Merkel screamed out, as loud as he could, dropping onto his back. The Joker had used Merkel's gun to shoot his first and second toes off. Turning around to face the crawling, bleeding copper, The Joker lightly discarded his weapon, and leaped onto the distraught officer.

Staring down through the slits in his mask, The Joker's hatred for all symbols of authority, be they corrupt or sincere, showed through his eyes, as Merkel began whimpering in fear. The Joker grabbed him by the arms, and pinned them down, sinsterly cackling as he kicked Merkel's stub of a toe, only furthering the officer's screams.

"Oh, but what's the fun in shooting people anymore?!", The Joker exclaimed over Merkel's agony. "After all, it's so cliche. So overdone! See, I'm a man of originality. If it's been done before, either I did it first, or I don't do it at all. That's why I've invented a trick to the game..."

Grabbing the flower lapel of his jacket, The Joker squeezed it, once, directing it at Merkel's face. At first, the officer felt nothing except a thin strife of air his his nose. The two paused, as Merkel looked up, with teary eyes, confused at the madman's attempt at killing him. Pushing himself up, The Joker turned, and strolled away from the officer, slowly, quietly. Merkel looked up, baffled, and angered.

"What the hell... How did... what are you trying to pull, freak?!", Merkel yelled back, still obviously pained by his foot wound.

The Joker turned his head, and waved, lightly, as if he were intending to leave. Merkel looked around, seeing if his pistol was lying anywhere near him. The maniac would pay for humilating him like that. And if The Joker thought Merkel was going to take this lying down, he...

He felt funny.

Merkel snickered, a little, in a reflexive bout of bizairee movement. The Joker raised his head, calmly, mentally counting up the moments that would lead to what he had been planning for the corrupt officer. The officer tried to get to his feet, and attack the clown, but he was interrupted by a strange fit of muscular twitching. Grabbing at his face, as it slowly, yet agonizingly burned, Merkel's grunts of pain quickly turned to screams of agony... and then laughs of torment. Grabbing at his sides, Merkel doubled over, as his complexion turned pale, as his lips peeled back into a hideous, inhumanly sizeable grin. But the worst of it was the laughter.

"Hahaha... HAHAHAHA... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The officer desperately tried to crawl to his feet, and demand to know what The Joker had done to him... but the laughter was too strong. His muscles wouldn't budge of their own will, his breathing shortened, and his eyes poured tears of fear and happiness, all interwoven into one, and beyond Merkel's own control. The Joker simply stood above him, hands behind his back, looking down at his increasingly crazed victim with an unsaid delight.

"That's it, rent-a-cop. Laugh it up! Bust a gut! HAHAHAHA!", The Joker cackled, slapping his own knee, before unexpectedly lunging onto the officer.

Seconds later, Captain Gordon could only stare as the madman began picking and plucking, violently, causing blood to splatter everywhere. Soon, only his laughter remained, as Merkel's body stopped moving. It wasn't until a stray eyeball flew over The Joker's back, and landed into the wet grass, that Gordon was sure his traitorous partner was dead. But even after that was apparent, The Joker kept going at him, picking apart each and every sign of skin and muscle tissue with his own hands.

Finally, the madman stopped laughing, and turned back to Gordon, blood smeared all over his mask. Taking his equally as blooded gloved fingers, The Joker etched them over the mask's features, covering it in even more. As Gordon seemed to want to be sick, The Joker stood, and cracked his knuckles, before peculiarly turning his head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. My manners and common decency must've flown the coop, tonight. Did you want me to save you a piece?"

My thoughts are racing a mile a minute. Joker just killed one of my fellow officers, but he was a rat that was going to sell me out. He caused me to get a beating at the hands of Flass, he had outed Harvey, threatend my family and was going to kill me. Joker's a monster, but he just saved my life.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. My manners and common decency must've flown the coop, tonight. Did you want me to save you a piece?"

BANG!

The barrel of my backup pistols pours out smoke into the snowy night as Joker stares at me. Blood starts to slowly pour out the wound in his shoulder.

"That was a warning shot, you bastard. Now put your hands behind your head and lay on the ground!"