The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG, Season 3.0

[Byrd Man]

The 40 Year Old Archer
Part I
​

Star City

"Ollie to Sporting Goods, Ollie to Sporting Goods."

I pick a piece of lent off my blue vest as I walk down the aisles towards the counter. A man is standing there tapping his fingers against the glass case.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The man nods as I walk behind the counter.

"Yeah, I wanna buy a shotgun."

"You know there's a three day waiting period?"

"Shoot. Not in Texas."

"Well, this is California. Can I ask what you'll be needing it for?"

"I'm going to Arizona in two days. I'm going deer hunting."

My eyes light up, the small spark that's almost dormant ignites again.

"Could I interest you in purchasing a compound bow?"

"A bow and arrow? I'm killing serious game, not some little rabbit."

"With all due respect, sir. In the right hands, a bow and arrow is just as deadly, if not more, than any gun. Let me show you..."

I start to reach for the compound bow I keep under the counter when I hear it.

"QUEEN!"

My hands stop, my eyes dart up to see my boss standing down the aisle.

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop trying to sell people those pieces of crap?"

"But sir, we sell them here..."

"I don't care. Just because you're a washed up loser who had fifteen minutes of fame, doesn't mean you know what people want. Now help him with his purchase!"

He stalks off, the man I was helping stares at me for a few seconds before it clicks.

"Wait. You're Ollie Queen! Man, you were something back in the day."

I quietly sigh as I prop my elbow up on the counter.

"Yeah..."

"So...did you ever..."

"No. I was innocent, despite what everyone else says. I know I didn't pay him off, I earned that medal fair and square."

"...I tell ya what, I think I might go to that Cabela's Outdoor shop down the road to get my shotgun, they might have a better selection."

"Yeah, sure."

"Nice to meet ya...man you were something."

He stalks off, I lay my head on the counter and sigh as his words ring in my ear.

Man you were something....

You were something....

Were something....

Were....

That's all I am, a has been. I never thought that I would be here twenty years from the Olympics, but here I am. Busting ass at Wal-Mart. I have to remind myself I'm doing it for the kids, I have to support them. I think about Roy, Connor, and Mia...and suddenly, I don't feel so bad.

"Ollie to the manager's office, Ollie to the manager's office."

Well, that good feeling lasted all of two seconds.

************************
​

Bonnie King-Jones is probably the most beautiful woman I've seen since my wife died...and I'm not even listening to what she's saying.

"What do you say?"

"Could you say it again? I think I have some earwax stuck in my ear."

We're sitting in her Volvo outside That's Amore, Star City's hottest Italian restaurant.

"I said...your place or mine?"

Bonnie has shoulder length auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and a nice chest. She's 29, just divorced her husband and took the sad sack for all he was worth. Most men my age would give their left arm to spend a night with her....

"I'm sorry. I think that would be moving too fast. This is my first date since my wife died...I just don't feel comfortable doing that..."

"You sure?..You're cute...you should see the things I can do with my tongue...."

She places her hand on my arm and smiles wickedly.

"Come on...I'll show you..."

She starts to move her hand southward, her head starts to follow and I only hate myself a little as I shake my head again.

"I'm sorry. It's nothing against you, you're beautiful. It doesn't just feel right to me."

She frowns a bit and starts up the car.

"Fine...I'll take you back home..."

It takes about a half hour to get to my house. I get out and we talk before she drives off.

"Well...I hope we can do it again..maybe we can go past the dinner...Well, have a good night. I'm heading to a club."

"This late? It's 10 o' clock on a Tuesday night..."

"Sorry, Ollie. But I have to get laid tonight, bye!"

Bonnie drive off, I stand in the yard and watch as her taillights fade off into the darkness. I turn on my heels and walk up my porch, Connor's up waiting for me as I walk in.

"So?...How'd it go?"

"We ate, she tried to make a move on me, I said no and she drove me home. That was it."

"Gonna go out with her again?"

"Who knows. You need to be hitting the hay, Connor. You got a game tomorrow."

Connor nods and starts to march off into his room. I sit down on the couch and pray that wherever Roy is, he's as far away from Bonnie King-Jones as possible.

 

[trustyside-kick]

At this moment the only thought that was going through Superman's head was his limitless thanks that the cars, which his new foe had somehow mentally lifted, were devoid of passengers.

"Seeing as you shrugged off that punch, I'm willing to bet that you can take some more punishment," he said as heat began brewing from his eyes. Just before he was about to fire a blast of heatvision at Despero, Clark had a second thought. The instant that he saw it register on his opponent's face that he had read Superman's mind, it was already an instant too late. You've just surrounded yourself with grenades. Before the mental sentence was even completed, precise beams of heatvision had sliced into the gas tanks of each car floating around Despero.

As the monster roared and shielded himself from the explosions around him, a blue-gloved hand reached into the flames and grabbed onto the villain's throat. After a moment, once the fire and smoke cleared, the angered and glowing red eyes of the Man of Steel were once again visible to Despero.

"I'll ask you again: Who are you? What do you want?"

IC:

"You waste time asking questions..."

Two more cars are lifted into the air, only they do not stop rising. Where Despero before planned to use them as a sort of shield, this time he just continues to rise them so high, to where they continue to ascend before Superman and Despero's heads.

"...giving your enemy all the time he needs to recover and plot a counter attack. I can read your mind, Kryptonian."

Despero's third eye glows as he finally lifts his telekinetic hold on the cars.

Well, search the cars with your x-ray vision if you are truly so blind. Look at the faces of the innocent as they shriek and look on in horror, for their hero to save them.

 

[Spike_x1]

Gasping in horror at what this monster had done, Superman flung the creature away and soared upward to catch the occupied cars as they began falling. At superspeed, Clark caught one by his left hand reaching underneath of it from its side, and started flying towards the other car to grab it with his right hand.

"Hang on tight," he called to the passengers of both vehicles just as he was about to get a grip on the second car.

THRAKA-BOOM!

Like lightning, a beam of energy surged through the air and struck Superman on the temple, knocking him away from both of the falling cars. Not willing to waste a single microsecond, Clark looked up to see the attacking Despero with his glowing third eye ready to launch another energy blast. In a flash, just as the beam was fired, Superman appeared with his hand in front of Despero's face, open palm straining to block the concentrated stream of energy. One punch to the monster's face with his other hand and the energy blast ceased. Another punch and the villain was sent reeling back.

Praying he wouldn't be too late, Superman streaked down through the air to catch up to the falling cars again; grabbing one on its underside, and getting a hold of the other one by its rear as it had begun flipping end over end and was mere feet away from hitting the pavement front-first. Thank God. Letting both cars slide onto all of their tires, he was imperceptible to the human eye with the speed that he removed the car doors and the seatbelts of the passengers. "Run!" he yelled as he turned back to the purple menace that was coming back for another attack, and flew up to meet him...

 

[trustyside-kick]

IC:

The Kryptonian had acted as expected, only further playing to Despero's delight. A most curious being this one was. In the flash of an instant, Despero vanished and re-appeared behind Superman. Before Superman knows he is behind him, Despero locks his arms around him, and Superman tries to fight him off.

"Why do you value such pitiful, meaningless lives, Kryptonian? The world could die and start anew, with how this Yellow Sun nurtures you...you would still be standing."

Superman starts to use his superspeed to launch them in the air with flight. They start to soar above the clouds all the while Despero keeps his hold and his smile never seems to shift as they continue to ascend. They are just short of being out of the Earth's atmosphere when Superman finally stops.

"Go on, Kryptonian. Look. This is the world and planet you have dedicated your life defending and taking care of. Now, try to merely comprehend how small a star system like this is. It could be taken by you alone into the palm of your hand. So why not conquer it? What drives you to just..."

Despero enters Superman's mind, and searches into the deepest corners of it through all of his old and frequent memories. To his surprise as he searches Superman's mind, a certain face echoes in the background.

Ah...it is her, isn't it? You cannot stand the very thought of her seeing you for what you truly are. So you fight against all instincts...your very nature as a Kyrptonian to but spare you the look on her face when she discovers what you are truly capable of. But you cannot hide it forever, Kryptonian.

Despero starts to take them back down to Earth from the atmosphere, Superman dazed as Despero continues to probe his thoughts and cloud his mind. Despero lets go of Superman, keeping his telepathic link with his mind and halts in mid-air; Superman continues to crash down from the heavens mesmerized.

One day, she and the rest of the world with all the citizens you look after...will see you for what you are.

Still dazed, Superman just continues to fall. Despero practically drools from the enjoyment of toying with the Kryptonian's mind.

They will see.

Despero starts to finally slowly descend as he keeps his ever watchful third-eye on target with Superman.

And when they do? They'll betray you. Abandon you. The very people you've come to know and love...

With a loud thud, and what sounds like an Earthquake, Superman collapses into a cornfield in Kansas.

...Will leave you.

Despero teleports down to Superman's exact location, looking down on the being as it lays in the crater its fall created.

"You wished to know who I am, Kryptonian. I am Fear and Death incarnate, molded into but one body; one supreme entity. I am the very Vessel in which Evil pours from...I am Despero."

And with the blink of his third eye, Superman vanishes.

 

[Andy C.]

ex Luthor​

Lex blinked his eyes a few times, not believing what he had just seen on the monitors. While facing this 'Despero' creature, the alien was struck by an energy of some sort, and just....disappeared.

It was impossible, but at first glance, Superman was gone.

"L-Soft, report."

"All signs report that Superman is no longer in range of any of our sensors. However, it is unlikely that he has been terminated--if this were the case, Despero would have dispatched him immediately. My calculations instead pose that Despero is currently holding Superman in some form of extra-dimensional space."

Luthor recalled the bottle-cities that he had seen during Brainiac's invasion, a "collection" of life stored in tracts of space-time outside of this universe. That was done by powerful alien technology, but his own teleporters were not that far behind in terms of concept. A creature having the innate ability to do this without any visible aid was unlikely, but theoretically not impossible.

"Very well then," he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Get Sivana and Quintum to prepare the Binary Fusion Cannon, ready to fire if this alien continues to be a problem. I also want the engineers on Project K-2 to step up their efforts as soon as possible."

"It will be done, Mr. Luthor. Though I must inquire why Project K-2 is on such a high priority."

"Simple, L-Soft. If I don't see Superman's corpse, then chances are he's not dead. And if he's not dead, then he'll be coming back. And if he's coming back, he's going to be very, very mad and I want to make damn sure we can take care of him."

Lex kept his calm, but inside, he was fuming. He had spent months coordinating the elements of Project Wild Fire, and now this new alien threat had come to disrupt all of his plans before they could go into effect. He had stolen Luthor's thunder, and no one gets away with that.

Then again, it would also be a major opportunity. Defeating this creature would give him an even greater status as the world's true savior: the man who succeeded where Superman failed.

"This is a problem. And no one solves problems better than me."

 

[Andy C.]

It's been a busy afternoon in Gateway City. The criminal calling himself 'Doctor Psycho' has gone out of his way to cement himself as my adversary. This is the third time I have had to face him since arriving in the city.

"Time and time again, you've humiliated me, Wonder Woman! You don't know what pain and suffering you and your kind have caused me! But you will, you can trust me on that!"

His hatred towards women is...troubling, to say the least. I wish I could say I'd never seen anything like it, but that would be a lie. Artemis had shown an equal intolerance towards men back on Themyscira, even before Circe had warped her mind. Part of me is morbidly curious to see what would happen should the two ever meet. The rest of me, however, hopes that never happens.

"I don't know why you keep doing this, Psycho. But as long as you continue to put innocent lives in danger, I'm going to keep putting you in prison."

I fly towards him, only to narrowly avoid a large dumpster flying right back at me. In our first encounter, Doctor Psycho learned the hard way that his mind-control abilities don't work on me, so he has instead utilized his telekinesis. His mental powers make him an incredibly dangerous foe, and one that is almost impossible to keep imprisoned for any extended period of time.

He levitates a semi truck off the ground, and hurls it towards me with the driver still inside. I speed up to meet it, the world around me slowing down as I focus on the vehicle and float alongside it. I quickly rip the door off, and pull the driver out of his seat as the truck careens through the air.

We touch down on the sidewalk, and the truck slams back into the street, tearing up hundreds of feet of pavement.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Psycho."

"You empty-headed bimbo! Do you really think that was the best I can do?"

"Not really..."

I pull the Lasso from my hip and lash it around Doctor Psycho, its powers of Truth overpowering the lunatic's own abilities.

"...but that's the best I'm going to let you do."

It's only a few minutes until the police have a special squad out to contain him again. They're protecting themselves this time, using an experimental psionic damper system-- patented by LexCorp. Even here, Luthor's influence permeates every level of this culture in one way or another. If he is the one foretold in the Oracle's prophecy...

"Excuse me, Miss...Wonder Woman?" one of the police officers approaches me sheepishly, as if he's embarassed to talk to me.

"Yes, officer? Can I help you?"

"Well, ma'am, we just received a report from Metropolis. I don't know if you were close, or friends, or...but, well..."

"What's happened?"

"It's Superman. He was fighting some monster, and it got him with some ray or weapon--we're getting conflicting stories. But we don't know if he's dead or what. He's gone, just...gone."

It takes me a moment to even register what he's said. Superman was the reason I returned to America, second-guessed the hatred of the Patriarch's World that Circe had instilled in us. I've only really met him twice, but I owe him so much. More than that, I....

A second later, and I'm in the air, far above Gateway City, to collect my thoughts...and prepare myself to hunt the monster down.

 

[Ra's Al Ghul]

Before The Hood: Part 1​

Four Months Ago

"Son of a b****..."

Sergeant Jason Todd gripped at the wheel of the G.C.P.D issued squad car in frustration, just as he hit traffic on 8th avenue. And his newly assigned partner, Rena Mackinzie, couldn't stop noticing Jason's uneased demeanor. Something more was bothering him about this than the hostage situation they were on their way to stop.

With a serious sneer, Rena easily caught Jason's attention from the passenger seat. "Easy on the wheel there, Sergeant. Captain Starlin's gonna have your head if you damage another car."

Jason didn't look towards her, simply keeping his eye trained on the road.

"How did you know about that?"

"I think the better question is, how did I not? It was all over the papers. You were trying to catch up to a drug binge, when-"

"-When I sideswipped their van and forced them off the road. Yeah, I read that article too."

Rena smirked, easing up a bit in her seat.

"I'm just saying, J. You might want to slow down. We're just the backup for this one... the guys at Gotham Central probably already have it resolved, by now."

Jason was silent, as the passing lights and winds of Gotham's streets illuminated a grim, and fairly haunted face on the young Sergeant. He had joined the Bludhaven division of Gotham City's police force to make a difference to people, and make an impact, unlike his father. But all he was making was trouble, particularly after the sideswipe incident. But the question remained... was it really even worth it to prove himself?

"Now make another right. It's just around the-"

Rena's words were interrupted by the loud crash of a stray bullet, as it hit the squad car's windshield. Startled, Jason jerked the wheel, prompting the car to come to a screeching halt. Both officers looked at the now rippled windshield, before looking at eachother, and around the street corner. They could see the abandoned Gotham Chemical Refinery from where they were parked.

"Hang on..."

Renna looked over, concerned.

"Hang on? What do you mean h- AIIIIIIIEEEEE!"

The car went into overtime, as Jason floored the acceleration. Multiple officers from the other branch scattered, as the Bludhaven car made it through the area. With a screeched halt, the car came to a sudden stop near the entrance. Jason pulled down on the shift, and unbuckled his seat belt. Alot of his fellow officers had said that Sergeant Todd was reckless, and uneedlessly temperamental. Now Rena was beginning to see where such talk had come from.

Jason paused only for a moment, loading his semi-automatic, as Rena shot him a dirty look for the reckless driving. He simply stared, blankly confused.

"What?"

"When we head back to the station, I'll drive..."

Loading up their guns, Jason and Rena headed out of the car, and rushed to the other officers assembled in the front of the factory. Instantly, Captain Branden of Gotham Central looked both over, with a crude sneer.

"Glad you could make it, rookies. Just watch the blockade, next time."

Jason scowled at the rookie comment. From Branden's tone, it was obvious that he had meant it to be spiteful. But before he could argue back, Rena stood infront of him, holding up her badge to intervene against a potential scene.

"Rena Mackenzie, Bludhaven Unit. We were called here by Commisioner Loeb. What's the situation, Captain?"

Branden indicated the roof. "Take a look for yourselves. We got a call about an hour ago about a gangland hostage situation. Big mess, apparentally. But something else is going on up there, now. There've been a few shots, so-"

"We know. Trust me."

Branden shrugged.

"Yeah, well we're not moving in. Not yet. Still gotta pend orders."

Jason looked to the building, then to Branden.

"'Pend orders'? Someone could get killed in there!"

"Yeah. Us, pal, if Loeb catches us going in without her word. I know you Bludhaven rooks like to jump the gun, but here in Gotham, we got-"

"Even if we did 'jump the gun', it makes a hell of alot more sense than just sitting here on your a-"

Rena's eyes widened, as she moved forward and grabbed Jason's arm, jerking him back before he could say something he'd potentially regret. With an apologetic smile, she looked back at Captain Branden.

"Forgive my partners. He's... he's just a little enthusiastic."

Turning back around, she shot Jason a dirty look... but it was nothing compared to the one he gave her back. Silence washed over the three, just before a shout came out from behind them.

"Captain! On the roof!"

All three turned, as lightning flashed, revealing two distinctive figures ontop. Jason's jaw dropped, seeing both for the first time in his life, as their violent struggle became apparent to everyone who was watching.

Whoa...

Branden instantly turned to the squad, enraged.

"HOW THE HELL DID THAT FREAK GET UP THERE?!"

As Jason watched, he was grabbed on the arm, and led by Rena as the two entered the warehouse. Jason was still mesmerized by what he had seen: Two men in gharish costumes, fighting eachother senselessly. It had been the first time Sergeant Todd had seen a costumed vigilante up close and personal before. Rena drew her weapon, as they entered the dark confines of the factory.

"What are we doing?"

"Our jobs."

"That include going against orders?"

Rena smirked. "You're the so-called 'reckless one', so you tell me. Besides, they're not our orders, are they?"

Jason pulled out his weapon from it's holster, and took charge infront of her.

"Right. Let's make this quick..."

"Why the rush? It'll be over soon, anyway."

Jason paused, and turned. "What? I don't follow."

"You mean you didn't see him?"

"Him... who?"

Rena smiled.

"Oh come on, you're being coy."

"No, really... what are we talking about?"

Rena looked at him, dead seriously.

"The guys upstairs?"

"The perps?"

"..."

"My god, you really are new to Gotham, aren't you?"

As Rena headed onto the catwalk, Jason simply stared, thinking about the question. No. No, I'm definitely not...

Following his partner, the two met upstairs, as heated punching could now be heard across the warehouse. Quietly, Rena signaled Jason to one room, while signaling herself to the other room. Jason looked, then nodded, heading into his door while Rena headed into her's, in search of the hostages.

As Jason quietly sulked through the shadows, looking for any signs of life, he could still hear the punches from outside. Those costumed guys were really going at it. If he was out there, he thought to himself, he'd show both how to take care of eachother and end the hostages' misery. But right now wasn't the time...

Upon reaching one of the machines, Jason suddenly heard a low whine. Turning, his weapon drawn, he spotted some individuals in the corner of the room. But his shock slowly became obvious, as he inched closer, seeing a lump body between them: It was a family. They were all crying over the body, which was bleeding out from the stomach area. It was a body of a young boy. Instantly, Jason reached for his dispatch comm.

"This is Sergeant Todd, on the top floor. We have a code 10-35 in progress. Victim's a cacuasian male, age 11 at most. Stab wound through the midsection. Send immediate medical assistance. Repeat, send immediate medical assistance."

Lowering his weapon, Jason rushed to the family, trying to find words of comfort. But he didn't know what to say. This was the first injury victim he had ever encountered on duty, and to say that it was difficult for him to witness this was an understatement. But Jason pushed his own thoughts aside, as he tried to help in any way that he could.

"Try not to move. Help will be on the-"

There was a loud crash from the other side of the room. Jason turned, startled, only to see one of the costumed individuals crawling on the floor, injured. It was the guy in the red hood and tux, Jason noticed, as the other one with the black costume stared out from the window. Jason immediately drew out his weapon.

"POLICE! FREEZE!"

The figure stared at Jason, simply, before leaping out of view. Silently cursing himself, he rushed to the window, only to see that no one was there. The figure had vanished out of thin air.

"P... Please..."

Jason turned, his gun held high, to see the red hooded criminal still crawling weakly.

"I... I didn't want to be apart of this. They made me. Said they... said they'd kill my wife... p-please... I'm just... I'm just having a bad day."

Sergeant Todd looked upon the criminal... but with no remorse. He saw the knife that the thug had been holding on the room. A knife that, Jason recalled, was covered in blood. Behind him, Jason could hear the cries of the family becoming louder, as the injured boy fell limp. He was dead.

Jason's jaw dropped.

"Pl... Please..."

There was a silence, as Jason turned back around, viewing the now-murderer with an enraged look. Without hesitation, he lifted his pistol, aiming it straight at the hood.

"I... what are you..."

Jason grit his teeth.

"Sending you where you belong."

*BLAM*

The Red Hood killer fell, dead, just as Rena finally entered the room herself. She gasped, seeing the body... but was even more surprised to see Jason's gun to be smoking, as he loitered over it with a sneer. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, agitated.

"Oh god, Jason... what did you do?"

What Jason Todd had did that night was take the first life he would ever take. It wasn't self defense, but... he didn't feel as if he had any other choice but to take The Red Hood's life, after seeing that boy pass away.

And once more... he didn't feel a bit sorry for taking it.

 

[MinNoir]

She sat on the window sill, her daughter watched television a few feet away from her. Her body against the wood, as her head tilted against the window. Drips of rain came falling, tumbling awkwardly smacking the glass as her green eyes peered out. Her body slouched in a forward position, her legs pulled together up to her chest. Her eyes glued to the Acura TL. As her eyes looked up she watched the symbol fly up, and part of her was sick that she wasn't out there. The other part happy to know he was keeping her safe, and her daughter.

"Mommy," Lyle called, no longer was she on the couch her eyes locked on the box, she was standing there her hand, on her Mother's leg, "you okay?"

Stephanie's thoughts were puddled as her daughter called, turning her head she smiled. "Yeah, I'm okay hey why don't we go out and get some ice cream?"

"Yeah!" She shouted, running off to put her jeans. Getting up from the sill, she leaned up against the wall. Her eyes closed, as she quietly sighed, Lyle had gotten so big, from the tiny baby she was. She remembered the first time, she saw her, she was red, and screaming but what baby wasn't? Those little eyes, looking at her, and the thoughts of giving up this child faded. "Mommy you're not ready!"

"You know what? You're right," Stephanie admitted, as she knelt down giving her daughter a hug, "I love you."

"Love you too, Mommy." Lyle replied, as she watched her Mom go from the living room, around the corner. She went to the couch, and waited, she was dressed in a Braves shirt that Donnie had gotten her from his trip to Atlanta. He always bought her things, she liked Donnie he was fun, and nice to her Mom, even if her Mom wasn't always nice to him.

In her bedroom, as she slowly changed, removing her top as it fell carelessly on the top of the bed, making soft ripples on the sheets. Her smooth body, glistening in the moon light. Stretch marks weren't too bad, but the scars from old battles were obvious, as she slipped on a tee shirt that was black and read, "HELLS BELLS." As she slid off her sweats, her legs were tight, and calves were thick from her work out routine, the sweats piled up where they fell, as she walked to her closet, and slipped on a pair of old jeans. Coming from her bedroom, she smiled softly, "ready monkey bean?"

Lyle gave her usual reply, as Stephanie carefully escorted her daughter outside, her eyes searched, and searched, "where's our car Mommy?"

Steph looked and there it was, in place of the hatchback, the temporary Acura TL, its a sleeper, you wouldn't think that it could snap your car in two in a race, but it can. Stock exterior, she noted as she approached it, "that's our car monkey bean, Hanae gave it to us while she gets our new car ready."

"Oh." Lyle replied still confused, "what was wrong with our old one? Was it broken?"

No but it looked like heck... "No, but Mommy thought it was time for a new car, so we can look good." Damn good that is.

"Okay." Was her simple remark needing no further explanation, Lyle approached the Acura, but not before Stephanie had time to inspect it.

Donnie pulled up in his Mazda RX7, some spots away. Getting out of his car, his khakis were wrinkled from wear, his white polo shirt hugging his body as he smiled to himself, leaning up on his car's back fender, "hope you didn't loose anything."

"DONNIE!" She spotted him.. Now Steph was in for it, her daughter adored him like the Father he was to her. Standing up, she shook her head as a smile came across her face. Despite all his antics, his failure to get her in bed, his lame pick up lines. There was something, she couldn't say what, but there was something about him that she ... loved?

"No was just making sure ... nevermind, uh, you wouldn't want to hang out with us would you?" Stephanie asked, oh God... I didn't she thought, I didn't just make it sound like a date. She cringed inwardly did she really just say that, it was impulse she told herself. Lets just face it, again she thought, he's not bad on the eyes, he cares for Lyle and you.. yes you, you stubborn Scotch-Irish, English woman you....

He thought about it, his Mazda wouldn't seat them comfortably, but he had a Ford Fusion that might, "So long as no one tries to pin me to the wall." He joked, she must have been in a bad mood when she got home, or deep in one of those bad thoughts she always had. He really wished that she just let him in, she was so beautiful... so troubled by her past. He wanted to take them away, he wanted to be a Dad to her daughter, the husband that she deserved.

"Shut up, Donnie, just take it like a man." Shaking her head, as they followed him, their steps making splatter sounds against the wet asphalt, the rain had stopped moments after she came outside. Funny she thought, it was raining while she was inside and between changing clothes, and seeing Donnie it had stopped. Both she and Lyle were dry, looking up she thought, thank God for no rain.

Donnie thought a moment as he opened the door, for Lyle, "and he looka likea man." He mocked, as Lyle giggled, and Stephanie couldn't help but laugh as well.

She walked around to the passenger seat, opening the door, she saw Donald Paz, his arms on the hood of the car, "yes... Donnie?" She asked him wondering what he was looking at, she looked over her shoulder there was nothing....

"Nothing," he told her getting into the car, but I love you... is that okay? He asked internally.

The Fusion was loaded up, the brake lights, head lights went on as the car started, slowly it reversed, turning toward the right as it pulled out of the parking space, and a left to exit. The moon over Gotham was bright, in all the city of Darkness, the forty-second street south town, seemed to be in its brightest despite all that was Gotham.

 

[Byrd Man]

Black Mask stared at the yellow man and Crane laying on the floor bleeding...how the hell did that just happen? He started firing again with the uzis, slowly walking forwards towards the handspringing guy.

"Looney Toons ?" he said, as Creeper sprung back. Roman Sionis dropped the uzis, and the yellow creature jumped at him. Black Mask pulled a large serated knife out of his jacket, and swiped it at his chest. As Creeper stepped back, Roman grabbed the crowbar that had fallen to the floor in the chaos. He swung it round and brought it into Creeper's head with a crack, and he fell to the floor. Roman fished a cigar out of a pocket and stuck it in his mouth. He brought the crowbar over his head, ready to bring it back down.

"T-t-t-thats all folks!" he stuttered.

The Creeper rolls on the ground, dodging the crowbar swings by Black Mask.

"Whoops, too slow."

Doing his best W.C. Fields impersonation, The Creeper flips on to a nearby chair and looks at Black Mask.

"Come on, kid. Let's see whatcha' got. Betta hurry up, I'm going fast."

And with that, The Creeper dissapers into the darkness. Black Mask follows right behind him. After searching the darkness for 10 minutes, Black Mask finally calls out.

"Come on, ****er...where are you?"

"Oh, yoo hoo!"

Black Mask looks in awe, as a buxom blonde haired, blue eyed woman steps out of the shadows. Unbeknownst to him, it's The Creeper in drag.

"Ohh. A big strong man who can help me out of this place. Save me!!"

Black Mask's jaw falls open as his eyes pop out of their skull, his tounge rolls out of his mouth and on to the floor.

"Come here, big boy. I got something for you..."

 

[Byrd Man]

The 40 Year Old Archer
Part II

"So, Ollie. What's the plan tonight?"

Eddie Fyers works here at Wal-Mart with me, he's over in the automotive department. Unlike me, he's 23 and headed for bigger and better things. For him, this is just a stepping stone to a great career.

"I'm just gonna go home and celebrate with my kids."

For those of you wondering, today is my 40th birthday. Happy Birthday to me.

"Sounds fun...So..how long until they turn you into our greeter?"

"Smart ass."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Enjoy your 40th, old man. It's all down hill from here."

***********

I stifle a bit of a yawn as I unlock the front door of the house and walk in.

"Connor?...Mia?"

It's dark in the house, I don't hear a sound as I turn on the lights.....

"SURPRISE!!!"

Out of nowhere, my three kids pop out behind the couch.

"I said no parties! I want to mourn by myself!"

"Aww, come on, Pop."

Roy playfully taps me on the arm.

"How did you manage to come home?"

"I asked for a day off from work. Between it and college, I need a day off."

"Yeah, sometimes you need the money."

"Don't worry about it. I got some cash stored up. Now, come on..let's have some cake..."

****************

Mia and Connor are fast asleep. Roy's helping me with the dishes.

"Like I said about the cash...I'd like you to have this..."

Roy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a 100 dollar bill.

"For a birthday present..."

"Son...I can't accept that..."

"Yes you can. You need the money."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do..."

Roy and I stare at each other for a full minute before I finally hold my hand out.

"Okay, if it'll make you happy."

He smiles and puts it in my hand. I wait until he's got his back turned before I slip the bill back into his back pocket.

"Happy birthday, pop."

"Thanks, son."

******************

Back at work, it's the same old story. Bored out of my mind and tapping my fingers on the counter as I wait for anyone to show up....any moment now...please?...anything...

BLAM!!!

I hit the deck as a shotgun blast fills the air. From the front of the store, I hear shouts.

"Put the money in the back, *****! You hear me?! All the goddamn registers!"

What the hell?..Someone is actually trying to hold up Wal-Mart?..wow..I'm surprised by this, but sometimes people get desperate.

"Wait a minute..."

While I'm on the floor, I look up to see the compound bow sitting there underneath the counter...it's got a half dozen arrows with it...Suddenly, my words from the other day come back to me...

With all due respect, sir. In the right hands, a bow and arrow is just as deadly, if not more, than any gun. Let me show you...


I grab the bow and the arrows. Time to show 'em....

"I said hurry up, *****!"

The fat white man holding the shotgun in front of our cashier Tiffany is starting to sweat now. Tiffany is on the verge of tears, poor girl is getting married next week. Who is this man do deny her soon to be hubby his bride?

I crouch low through the book section of the store with my bow and an arrow strung in it. The would be robber is starting to get fidgety as Tiffany drops some of the cash.

"Goddammit, *****!"

The shotgun is shaking in his hands now. I peek over copies of the Harry Potter book and watch for a second before I duck back down. Taking the arrow strung, I unscrew the arrow head off and leave just the blunt end of the arrow. My shot is going to be a bit more difficult, but I can do it.

"Stop yelling! I'm going as fast as I can!"

Tiffany is hyseterical now. Tears stream down her face.

"I will ****ing kill you!"

I pop up from the books and let my arrow loose.

WHAP!

The hard fiberglass arrow slams against his head and sends him sprawling on to the floor. His shotgun falls harmlessly on the floor as he falls. He's unconscious by the time he's on the floor good. Of all the people in the store, their eyes are suddenly on me. All the eyes smiling and looking in awe. I say the first thing that pops into my head.

"Cleanup on aisle 2."

And the employee of the month award goes to....
​

 

[twylight]

The Arc With No Title​

Part 0.148374​

“Pfffffffffffffffffffffff”

I absently blew the long, red bangs from my face before tucking them behind my ear. Flopping forward I embrace the steering wheel, my forehead hitting the top of it before I look back over at the hotel. Yes, I’m on a stake out. Yes, it’s for a cheating spouse. Yes, I feel like I’m on ‘Cheaters’. Yes, it sucks.

I groan and flop back into the seat and close my eyes. I have such a knack for getting into boring things. Three days ago, a Tuesday, started like any other Tuesday. A stop at the newspaper stand, the walk to work in the smoggy and cold Gotham City air. Milly’s usually sour face as she gave me another pile of bills. The face of Batman mocking me from the front cover of the newspaper as I tossed the bills on the desk and took a seat.

The difference of the day was that a tall, man with pepper gray hair walked in at exactly 12:34 pm. He was the type you read about in story books, refined, classed, and polite. He had a cultured air but it didn’t make him stuffy. In fact he was quite charming, his eyes were friendly and open, but creased with pain, and his nose was long and straight. Milly showed him in right away, and by the time he sat down, I already knew why he was there.

He’d made the chronic mistake most men with that dignified and cultured air have. He married a woman 25 years his junior, and she was going on weekend trips. It took him 45 minutes to explain all the details to me, and I took the case naturally. As much as I abhorred domestic cases, and they made me feel dirty…well…Ms. Lauper said it best, money changes everything.

2 days and 6 hours later I landed in Star City. A woman on my mind and an empty memory card in my camera. I’ll skip to now, since it’s boring stuff till now. Who am I kidding? It’s boring now. She hasn’t made one move from her hotel, no one had seen her, and she hadn’t drawn her curtains in any particularly suspicious manner. Grabbing my camera I zoom in on her again through the sheer curtains. Still sitting on the bed watching First Wives Club. Irony to the max, I wish I could write stuff this good.

She flips the TV off and I tense at her actually moving. I glance at my clock. 6:45pm, on a Friday….obviously a dinner date. I wait for her to exit the hotel. Luckily it was one of those with only one exit I had to cover. She slips into her rental car and I turn the key in mine before pulling into traffic behind her as she leaves.

-

The tailing led to an upscale restaurant, one I had no hope of getting into on the fly, even if I BSed myself in. I scratched absently at my wig, thinking. I’ll just watch for now. Luckily she took a seat by the window. That had a lovely view out into the gardens. Huh, she must not expect people to be watching her, not very brainy. I watch people filter into the restaurant, all the same type; classy and upscale. Bedecked in furs, pearls and silks. Hmm...a lone man goes in, he’s dressed nicely, classy but reserve, and alone. Fits the profile for being her date. He’s also young, 30 something it seems. Virile would be the word for his energy. I lean forward and watch him get to her, he bows and kisses her hand before guiding her up and to a different table, farther into the restaurant. Damn it. He’s a con, a worker, he knows what he’s doing.
I slide out the car before I process my next move. Locking it I walk quickly across the street to the place and down a side alley. I need a cover a…roof access ladder. I flash back to my initial survey of the place, there were trees throughout it, planted in plots of dirt. All the trees had rich green leaves, which meant natural light. I jump and grab the bottom of the ladder with my hands, hoisting myself up till I can climb it. Reaching the roof I ease myself across it, careful for the skylights. I glance through each one, looking for her. Ah HA! And perfect angle, I can see their table without actually looking over the skylight. I hunker down and watch them, the sky dimming as evening approached.


2 hours later I shift uncomfortably on the hardness of the roof. I deserve every penny the guy is paying me. However, I’m certain that this little tryst is more than just romantic. I’d watched their conversation and it seemed more like business with pleasure tacked on as a benefit. He called for the check and it was my turn to move. I work myself off the roof and back to the car just as they exit. A quick kiss on the cheek and she heads to her car, and him to his.

I bite my lip, darn. She’s who I’m getting paid for but he…he’s the one who interests me.
“A good detective follows his instincts.” Slams voice wriggles it’s way into my head. I nod, right, I scratch my wig again. Darn it…I hate my job sometimes.

 

[Ra's Al Ghul]

Before The Hood: Part 2​

"You've really dug yourself a new kind of trouble this time, Sergeant."

Commander James Starlin slammed his fist on the wooden desk separating him from his star officer. Jason didn't blink once, even as the wood splintered under Starlin's fist. Infact, he hadn't made a single solitary form of expression all morning. In his mind, all that he saw was the shattered helmet of The Red Hood, as it blew off of the dead culprit's face with a single blast of his 44. colt pistol. He was still getting used to... the reality. That someone in the world was being buried because of him. But it didn't cause sadness, or remorse, in the young Sergeant of Bludhaven PD. It only made him want to do it again.

He wanted to kill again.

Starlin sneered him down, obviously holding himself back from doing more.

"And don't think I've forgotten about your little antics before, Todd. That cat burglar you shot in the arm? Those punks on East Avenue that you put in the hospital? And not to mention last month's little spectacle. But honestly, I thought this type of crap had gotten through to you. I thought you had learned. But boy, was I wrong..."

Immediately, Starlin threw down a copy of "The Bludhaven Chronicle". Jason didn't look. He had already seen the headline, dozens of times, on the drive to the precinct... "RED HOOD KILLER GUNNED DOWN IN CROSSFIRE: Police Decline To Comment On Vigilante Agent Rumors".

"Fourteen months, Todd. For fourteen months goddamn months, the Gotham station was planning on a raid to bring that creep down. He had a list of charges longer than your $^&@ing existence and twice that in a bodycount. And we're the ones that finally had him cornered. Did you think about what this would do for us? Did you?!"

Jason was silent. Starlin simply scowled, as he began to pace the room.

"That Red Hood guy was gonna be our ticket to the top. Bringing him in would'a been our salvation against Gotham City's own sorry ass department of rejects. It would have finally proven that this precinct was worth a damn. And the moment we get our in, you had to screw it up and go trigger-happy on the guy. Not to mention doing it as that vigilante batfreak's sloppy seconds!"

"Batman."

"DO I LOOK LIKE I WANT TO BE CORRECTED?!"

Starlin took a deep breath of his cigarette, and exhaled. Jason squinted, trying his best not to take in the aroma of it.

"Just tell me something, kid, before I go even more ape$%^& then I already am because of this mess. And tell me straight, none of that 'I had no other choice' pile'a bull. When you put that gun to the sorry sucker's head, and pulled the trigger to blow his brains out... just what the hell was really going on in that so-called mind of your's?"

Jason considered telling Starlin the truth. About how he saw the fear emulating through that crimson dome that The Red Hood was wearing over his face. About how, when he saw that kid die, every essence of the concepts of right and wrong went completely out of the window. How The Red Hood, despite his pathetic plea and resolve, deserved every moment of horrendous torture that he suffered as the bullet went in, just before he died.

But he didn't. He couldn't. Something told him that it would only be wasting more time.

"I... don't know, sir."

Starlin blinked. Once.

"Explain."

Jason shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I saw the guy coming for me. I reached. I pulled the trigger. He was dead a minute later. That's all that happened, Commander. Really."

Starlin pulled up his seat, and sat back down, contemplative. He finally put on a sigh, burying his eyes in an open hand.

"The media's gonna tear you up for this."

"They're not my problem."

"You're damn right they're not, Sergeant. Because for the next five months, I'm gonna be the only problem you'll need to worry about. Not only am I revoking your rank for that time, and demoting you to beat work and filing... I'm gonna be watching you like a fly on the wall. All those perks? All the time alone? All the standard patrol? Gone. Finished. Just long enough for you to straighten your act, because whether you like it or not... I don't believe a damn word of what you just said."

Jason sneered. But didn't protest. He had expected much worse, infact.

"Are we done, here?"

Starlin didn't even bother to open his eyes, as he rested into the back of his chair.

"Just get out of my sight."

Jason scooted the chair back, and stood, preparing to walk out. But just as he did, Starlin remembered something, and snapped his fingers. Jason paused, just as he reached the door, as Starling pulled open one of his cabinents inside his desk, reached in, and pulled out an object.

"Here. Forensics got done with this an hour ago. It was useless to them... but I think it'll hold some use to you. I want to see this on your desk at all times, as a reminder of just how badly you screwed up last night."

Starlin through threw the object at Jason. Catching it, Jason looked into his hands. He was holding the dense, now partly shattered dome helmet of The Red Hood, as it stared back at him with lifeless reserve. His own reflection basked off of it, as he, for one single moment, stared in pure admiration. An impressive little disguise, this thing was... two-way mirrored, in order to completely shield the wearer's identity. It would be the perfect element of any costume... if not for the fact that, now, it had a fresh bullet hole into it.

Jason looked back up at Starlin, as he stared at the now demoted Sergeant, agitated.

"Move it, Todd, before I make your punishment worse than it is. I don't wanna see your face around this office for the next two days, at least. You're on level one suspension."

Turning around, Jason exited the office, slamming the door behind him. He stared out into the department, as the officers quickly looked away, having listened to the entire conversation. Jason shook his head, quietly muttering curses under his breath, as he tightly clenched the Red Hood's helmet.

Behind him, Rena Mackenzie caught up, having waited for him all morning. She needed some assurance... any assurance that she hadn't accompanied a stone-cold killer...

"Jason... talk to me. Please, I just need to know. Was it justified? Was it really justified?"

Jason was silent, for a moment, as he stared down at the helmet in his hands. There was a body in the morgue, somewhere, that had worn this only hours earlier. And now, he was wearing one of Jason's own bullets in it's place.

There was still no hint of remorse, even as he finally, and coldly responded.

"Positively."

 

[MinNoir]

"Mr. Dixon," she began, her eyes peering into his as they both sat at the edge of Gotham Exchange, "its been done, anything else?"

He sat there, steadied on his feet as he stood, she followed standing, beside, then in front of him, "you run with the Thrashers don't you?" Her eyes lit up, her mind raced, if he knew about that what else did he know, his suit was a dark blue, his tie was black, white collared shirt, loafers, black. He was a good 5'9 at most, "well, are you thinking of a lie Ms. Brown?"

"No, sir... I-" She stammered, stammered... she doesn't stammer whatever he was after he was going to get it.

"Tonight, I've set a race, between your Thrashers and the East End RoadKings, win it, and you'll be seeing a bigger check, I want the RoadKings gone." He told her in no uncertain terms, "you can do it Stephanie."

She wanted to know what he had against the RoadKings, not that she didn't, they were rude for one, and secondly cheated at every race they could. Thrashers hated going against them, "there's no way Hanae would go for it."

"She doesn't have a choice." He left, walking down the steps, leaving her in his shadow, she stood there, her fist tightened, gripping to white at the knuckles. Turning the other way she headed up the steps.

The Exchange was busy, people running here and there, she looked for her co-worker, a weak looking man, thin, lanky and awkward. "Stephanie!" He found her, "good take this and run down to Diamond District, tell Mr. Leone we bought the gold shares." She didnt' know if this was a promotion because she felt like a carrier pigeon but it sure did pay a lot.

She was again at the steps, heading down, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw RoadKings to her left and right. It was a trap, and a challenge, she quietly walked the steps trying not to take notice of them. Hanae pulled up right at the curb nearly hitting Steph, "get in," she ordered.

 

[Batman]

The Batmobile peels down 5th and Main, just in time for the radio receiver to pick up on the media circuit's transmission. It's obvious that the citizens of Gotham don't have a clue to the pandemonium that's unraveling all across the city, but I can already hear it from Blackgate: The prisoners are rioting their way out. Hundreds, maybe thousands of lives could be at stake. And I'm not nearly equipped to take them all on at once. But I can come close enough. Just need to keep focused...

The maddening part of all of this is, every suspicion I have is telling me that this is all distraction. I already know that Dent... Two-Face, himself, won't be at the prison. And he probably won't show his hand wherever the rest of his pawns turn up to wreak havoc. This is all a means to keep me occupied... but by the same token, how can I possibly steer away? Wherever he really is, Two-Face has eluded even the slightest capture since he descended into madness... risking another failure to apprehend him could potentially send hundreds of dangerous prisoners on the loose.

Damn it all. He's exploiting me at every turn. And worse yet, his true goals remain to reach fruition. He has something larger than total chaos planned, I know it... it shows, by the number of fellow criminals he's been gathering for the past few months. But what? And how do I possibly come close to preventing it?

"-ster Bruce. Sir?"

The sound of Alfred's voice over the intercom grabs my attention, just as I pull onto Phiesfter and Uslan.

"Go ahead."

"Going by the readouts coming from the computer, it seems that your vitals have plummeted rather considerably. Shall you need me to dispurse any medical equipment? Preheat the sauna, perhaps?", He asks, trying to mask his concern behind that dry wit I've come to expect.

"No, Alfred. I'm fine.", I assure him, halfway attentive. "Feeling lightheaded, but I'll have to shake that off. Don't have the time to stop by the cave."

"I see. Very well, then. Though, if I may remind you, this is precisely the reason we established your inner-city modules."

I press harder on the gas. He's right, of course, but every moment that I'm away from Blackgate means an all the more lowering chance of Gotham's survival by morning. I can't stop now.

"Sir? Master Wayne, are you listening?"

"I can't stop, Alfred. Not now.", I argue. "Two-Face has orchestrated a breakout at Blackgate Prison. Thousands of people could be at risk."

"If I may be so bold, you could be at more of one. From what your costume's readouts have pieced of your internal temperature, you're running a fever of, roughly, a hundred and three. You'll collaspe if it rises any higher."

I'd be lying if I said this information came at any surprise. Freeze encased my entire body in a five foot thick block of ice. I remained trapped for three minutes. If the costume's thermals didn't manually activate when they did, my heart would have stopped, and I wouldn't have survived. Right now, my body's fighting to sustain it's core temperature. And in the process, it's doing a real number on me. Physically, mentally... even my spirit's beginning to crack under the pressure.

"Master Bruce, now is not the time to be difficult with me. You're at potential risk. Given the nature of the situation you're rushing headfirst into, you'll likely perish in any attempt to rescue the poor souls trapped within the prison."

I ignore his words, trying my best to focus on the absolutes. Blackgate's being torn in half. A dozen of the worst enemies I've ever faced are running free in my city. Harvey Dent, now the psychotic Two-Face, is carefully plotting behind it all. Fever or no fever, I can't simply ignore those facts. Gotham needs me, and I always knew the risks... even in the beginning.

"Sorry, old friend. But I just can't stop now."

"Sir? SIR! DON'T-"

"OVER AND OUT."

The communicator shuts down, leaving me only to my thoughts, and the car's engine doing twice the work it can usually sustain. Sweat drips between my skin and cowl, as my vision blurs for a split second, and my ears throb of blood. I'm being irrational. I know it. But when the stakes are this high, what choice do I have? It's either me, or Gotham... and there are too many lives I swore to protect until my dying breath to let it be the former. Perhaps now, that vow will be a bit more literal. I don't know. And I care to an even lesser extent.

Have to stay positive. Won't stand a chance otherwise.

At least it's not The Joker.

"Shall we dance?"

The madman looks down into Jim Gordon's eyes, but all that the Captain sees staring back at him is a month's worth of madness, bottled up behind a quieted clown mask. The Joker had been waiting for this reunion ever since the night at Robinson Park. And now, he was in the thick of it. But boy, was it ever in the midst of such appauling circumstance...

"I gotta hand it to ya, Jimmy-Crack-Corns. You pulled a fast one on me. For a moment, I actually thought it'd really be the end, rotting away in that little cage. That train of thought is enough to drive a man crazy.", The Joker giggled, placing one of his guns to the Captain's forehead, as they rolled across the Gotham Central's wooden floors, dodging gunfire at almost every turn. "But now I'm out of the joint, baby, and I'm loving it! I think I may celebrate."

A murderous grin came to the madman's face, as he suddenly thought of something.

"Speaking of which, how's your little girlie? Just shy of sixteen, if I recall. Maybe after our little tango, I'll go pay the redhead a visit. Who knows? I could show her one hell of a time, as long as we have the right toys...", He laughed, indicating his poisonous carnation, sitting just on the side of his jacket.

"What'cha say, Gordo? I'll make a woman outta your girl, you make a smoochi-kins with your girl on the side, and Batboy makes it with lady death. Everybody wins! HAHAHAHAHA!"

 

[Catman_prb]

The Creeper rolls on the ground, dodging the crowbar swings by Black Mask.

"Whoops, too slow."

Doing his best W.C. Fields impersonation, The Creeper flips on to a nearby chair and looks at Black Mask.

"Come on, kid. Let's see whatcha' got. Betta hurry up, I'm going fast."

And with that, The Creeper dissapers into the darkness. Black Mask follows right behind him. After searching the darkness for 10 minutes, Black Mask finally calls out.

"Come on, ****er...where are you?"

"Oh, yoo hoo!"

Black Mask looks in awe, as a buxom blonde haired, blue eyed woman steps out of the shadows. Unbeknownst to him, it's The Creeper in drag.

"Ohh. A big strong man who can help me out of this place. Save me!!"

Black Mask's jaw falls open as his eyes pop out of their skull, his tounge rolls out of his mouth and on to the floor.

"Come here, big boy. I got something for you..."

Black Mask blinks at the blonde beauty, then he feels his eyes stick out of stalks. He taps his foot wildly and makes wolf sounds as his tongue rolls out and hits the floor. The woman beckons seductively with a hand that is gloved up to the elbow. Black Mask sidles up to her, straightening his blood splattered suit and wrapping an arm around her. He offers her a cigarette.

"So sugar, whatcha got for me?" he rasps as she takes a cigarette and he lights it for her.
"This!" she says, pulling a frying pan from somewhere on her tight dress and cracking it into Black Mask's face. The impact causes him to start vibrating around the room, moving in a smooth circle until reaching the point where he started. A huge lump pushes itself out of his head, and a small flock of birds fly around his head.

"Ow," he says mildly, looking at the woman with swimming eyes.
"Hey...how come your skin's yellow?" he asks. As his vision returns, he begins to see that the woman is in fact the Creeper wearing a wig and lipstick. They stare at each other for a second, then the Creeper rushes off, leaving behind a dress and a wig hovering in midair. Black Mask sprints after him, jumping and grabbing his ankles and pulling him to the ground.

He straddles him, pulling a pistol out of his suit and pointing it at his head.
"We aren't too different you and I," he says hoarsely "It's too bad that I'm an evil bastard who deserves the death sentence,"

 

[SenseiofCheese]

Were it any other occasion, Hal Jordan would have been glad to see his homeplanet inch closer and closer. After dodging and weaving between stars and planets for what seemed like forever, Hal was finally beginning to see the familiar blue and green orb that was an eternal source of comfort to him.

But any sense of homesickness was quenched by the thought that somewhere on Earth, in his own home, was a psychopathic creature that could crush it if Hal didn't stop him in time. Despero had beaten Hal the last time they had fought. Badly. And were it not for the oddly comfortable notion that in no small way Abin Sur was with him, Hal would have probably been worried.

"Ring, scan Earth's atmosphere for vital signs corresponding to those of fugitive ID: Despero." Hal spoke into his newly acquired power ring with no-nonsense authority in his voice, as the ring began it's search.
​

 

[SenseiofCheese]

Katar didn't feel good about what he was doing. The very fact that an innocent police officer was laying unconscious at his feet was told him that he had long since crossed a line he should not have.

But as he silently removed a pair of keys from the man's pockets, his wings tucked close to his back, any sense of right and wrong seemed to be blurred whenever something, or someone, stood between him and Shayera. He had had every intention of letting the man he had dropped from twenty stories up fall to his death. But something inside him, something eerily reminiscent of Shayera's voice, kept him from doing it. Had pushed him to dart after the man, whether he had truly deserved to die or not, and save him from becoming a stain on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Ericson, you seen Eddie?"

"I think he went in to check on some files, don't know though."

The voices were a stern reminder for Katar to hurry. He shuffled through what seemed like a neverending wave of files and folders, until he came upon a file marked with the date of his near-death experience at the hands of Brother Blood. Grabbing it without hesitation, Katar flipped through it, looking for a name; any name.
His eyes scanned the papers, taking in every single black letter stamped into the white. For a moment, sheer morbid curiosity got the better of him and he found himself immersed in the witness reports of his battle with the vampiric villain.

It seemed to Katar to be split down the middle. Half of the witnesses had told the police that Brother Blood appeared out of nowhere and began killing, only to be followed by the mysterious Hawkman, who had proceeded to help him murder and destroy everything they saw. The other half described the battle as something monumentally epic, where the common factor was that Hawkman was an actual angel sent down from the heavens, showered in a bright light.

Almost none of them got it right. Except, Katar noted, one. Feverishly scanning the pages for the name of the witness who had described the battle in utmost detail, Katar nearly tore through the paper. Until he finally found it, and there was not a doubt in his mind as he shot out the window of the police station and into the night that he had found her.

Sharon Hale.

"I am coming, Shayera. Finally, I am coming."

Her name was Sharon Hale.

​

 

[Johnny Blaze]

J'onn eyes fluttered open as the visions of horror placed into his mind by his attacker began to fade.

Looking around, J'onn grew puzzled. He was no longer in Gotham, but laying by the feet of Lady Liberty in New York City.

"What in H'ronmeer's name...", he whispered as he looked around in shock.

The sudden screams of panic blaring in his ears and mind returned J'onn to his senses. Looking around, J'onn sees the few people around him recoiling in terror and doing their best to get away.

"Wait, please! I mean you no harm."

~Oh God, it's HIM! Please, God, don't let him kill me! PLEASE!~

The telepathic scream of fright caught J'onn by surprise as the woman and her boy fleed the scene.

~Holy ****! It's the Martian!~

Came the telepathic scream of a young man in ragged clothes as he scrambled to put as much distance between him and J'onn as he could.

"What the hell is going on?"

The confused Martian Manhunter gently probed the minds of the fleeing people and found that they recognized him. In his Martian form no less.

What did that creature do to me, J'onn questioned himself as he tried to shake the cobwebs from his thoughts.

J'onn then slowly rose into the sky. The whole situation was unsettling to him.

How did he go from Gotham to New York in the blink of an eye?

How do these people seemingly know who and what he is?

J'onn flew up to float just next to the head of the Statue of Liberty, and took in the entire scene.

But his confusion only doubled as he turned to face the Statue. Gone was the visage of the Lady Liberty he had come to know.

Now the entire Statue looked exactly like Wonder Woman. Instead of a torch and book, she carried a severed head and sword in her hands.

"This...is not good", whispers a wide-eyed Martian Manhunter to himself.

Turning his back to the Statue, J'onn flies towards the city in search of answers.

 

[Blacklight]

Black Mask blinks at the blonde beauty, then he feels his eyes stick out of stalks. He taps his foot wildly and makes wolf sounds as his tongue rolls out and hits the floor. The woman beckons seductively with a hand that is gloved up to the elbow. Black Mask sidles up to her, straightening his blood splattered suit and wrapping an arm around her. He offers her a cigarette.

"So sugar, whatcha got for me?" he rasps as she takes a cigarette and he lights it for her.

"This!" she says, pulling a frying pan from somewhere on her tight dress and cracking it into Black Mask's face. The impact causes him to start vibrating around the room, moving in a smooth circle until reaching the point where he started. A huge lump pushes itself out of his head, and a small flock of birds fly around his head.

"Ow," he says mildly, looking at the woman with swimming eyes.

"Hey...how come your skin's yellow?" he asks. As his vision returns, he begins to see that the woman is in fact the Creeper wearing a wig and lipstick. They stare at each other for a second, then the Creeper rushes off, leaving behind a dress and a wig hovering in midair. Black Mask sprints after him, jumping and grabbing his ankles and pulling him to the ground.

He straddles him, pulling a pistol out of his suit and pointing it at his head.

"We aren't too different you and I," he says hoarsely "It's too bad that I'm an evil bastard who deserves the death sentence,"

The Black Mask had his gun aimed at the Creeper when his eyes turned wider at the feel of an arrow's tip poking his temple. he didn't even move his head for the fear of the crossbow's trigger beeing pulled, and the arrow plowing straight through his cerebrum and out the other side of his head.

"Put. The gun. Down..."

He readjusted his grip on his weapon, trying to resist, but sociopaths like the infamous 'Black Mask' are as unpredictable as they they're smart. And if he was smart, he'd toss his gun...

"Now...." I growled.

 

[Byrd Man]

The 40 Year Old Archer
Part III

It's been three days since I stopped the robbery here at Wal-Mart and what am I doing? I'm in the back, doing inventory.

"Let's see...ten bags of wiffle balls....thirty basketballs..."

"Queen!"

Mister Jacobs rounds the corner, his hair piece flapping as he walks.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

He stops and taps his foot as he looks up at me...did I mention he's five foot even while I'm six four?

"I'm doing inventory..."

"I don't want you doing inventory!!!"

"Well...you told me to do it when I came in this morning..."

"That was this morning!!! It's noon! The afternoon!! I want you on the sporting goods counter! God, are you as stupid as you are ugly?! And you still got that stupid goatee! I told you to shave it off I swear..."

While he yells and chews me out, I drown it out...what am I doing here? I'm 40 years old...middle aged...half of my life is gone and what have I done for anyone?...Who have I helped?...all I am is a washed up archer...a second class Robin Hood..........wait a minute...Robin Hood...

"Are you listening to me, Queen?!"

Like a safe vault, the tumblers all fall into place...my path is clear. I know what I must do...

"Queen!"

My hands move faster than they've moved in 20 years, I wrap my hands around my bosses' collar and lift him into the air so we're face to face.

"Listen....sir...I like the way my facial hair looks. If I didn't, I wouldn't shave it like this. There is nothing in the rules against it, so I'm going to keep it. And as for these comments you've been throwing at me..."

I can see a look of pure terror go on his face as my eyes become slits. His feet dangle helplessly in the air.

"I am not dumb, I graduated from USC. I am not fat, I'm only twenty pounds overweight. I am not ugly, there are plenty of women who would love to be with me. You on the other hand, are a five foot midget who's hung like a christmas elf and the only reason you run this store is because your father is the regional manager. So, I suggest you sweep around your own back door before you sweep around mine...are we clear?"

"Y-...yes...."

"Good...now can I have the rest of the day off?"

He tries to talk, but his throat closes up and he only nods.

"Good...thanks boss."

I let him down and pat his shoulder as I turn to leave.

"Nice talk..."

Mister Jacobs can only stare at me dumbstruck as I walk towards the front of the store and out the sliding doors.

"Hmm...I think I'll go the gym..."
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

IC:

As Despero floats in the cornfields of Kansas, his mind wanders endlessly for his next target. He grows agitated as he can seem to find no trace of Jordan within the Earth's atmosphere. He had so carefully planned it out, and the Green Lantern was...no matter. He would simply have to improvise and make better of the situation.

And so, Despero's mind continues to wander the Earth, attempting to pinpoint the next hero.

"Excuse me, Miss...Wonder Woman?" one of the police officers approaches me sheepishly, as if he's embarassed to talk to me.

"Yes, officer? Can I help you?"

"Well, ma'am, we just received a report from Metropolis. I don't know if you were close, or friends, or...but, well..."

"What's happened?"

A smile creeps over his face, and his third-eye starts to blink. He starts to rise higher above the cornfields, and starts to ascend to the heavens and the clouds. His smile glows as his sharp teeth shine as the blink in his third-eye quickens. And then, he is gone.

"It's Superman. He was fighting some monster, and it got him with some ray or weapon--we're getting conflicting stories. But we don't know if he's dead or what. He's gone, just...gone."

It takes me a moment to even register what he's said. Superman was the reason I returned to America, second-guessed the hatred of the Patriarch's World that Circe had instilled in us. I've only really met him twice, but I owe him so much. More than that, I....

A second later, and I'm in the air, far above Gateway City, to collect my thoughts...and prepare myself to hunt the monster down.

He appears right in front of Wonder Woman, for her to see. The silence only feeds his joy as he continues to read her mind. She views herself as a warrior, bred from the triumphant and proud Amazons of Themysciara. But her and her foolish sisters are so naive, it only makes it laughable as Despero ventures further into her mind.

I assure you, Amazon. You are not the hunter in this game. You are merely the sport: the prey.

 

[Byrd Man]

The Black Mask had his gun aimed at the Creeper when his eyes turned wider at the feel of an arrow's tip poking his temple. he didn't even move his head for the fear of the crossbow's trigger being pulled, and the arrow plowing straight through his cerebrum and out the other side of his head.

"Put. The gun. Down..."

He readjusted his grip on his weapon, trying to resist, but sociopaths like the infamous 'Black Mask' are as unpredictable as they they're smart. And if he was smart, he'd toss his gun...

"Now...." I growled.

Both Huntress and Black Mask are taken aback as a gigantic yellow funnel cloud, with Creeper in the middle, starts to spin around the room and suck up nearby object.

"You're not stealing my thunder, toots."

The tornado sucks up Black Mask and Huntress. The three of them spin violently until the tornado suddenly stops.

"Look! It's tea time!"

The three of them sit at a small table, a cup of tea and saucer between them.

"Tell me, Black Mask...how many lumps do you want?"

A large smile appears on Black Mask's face and he yells with glee.

"I want a whole lotta lumps!!!"

The Creeper stares at him for a beat, before pulling a large mallet out of nowhere.

"You asked for it!"

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

Black Mask sprawls on the floor. Stars circle around him as a cuckoo clock noise echoes through the room.

 

[Feature]

REX TYLER: HOURMAN
Season 3.0 - Part 6


Rex sat on the couch, bathed in the bluish glow that radiated from the television. Rocky lay beside him, his head on Rex's knee. Amy curled up on Rex's other side, pressing herself against him, his arm draped over her shoulders. As a family, they watched the news.

"More details coming out tonight about the story that has shocked all of Gotham City. As you've no doubt heard, Jonathan Jacob Wexler of Gotham City was arrested last night after police recieved an anonymous tip."

"I'm changing it..." Rex said, as he lifted the remote and aimed it at the TV.

"Don't." Amy said, pushing his arm back down.

"Why not? It's filth."

Rocky chuffed softly, as if in agreement.

"Maybe it is... but I want to watch. It was so close to home... I just don't think I'll feel safe until they announce that he's getting the chair..."

Rex reluctantly turned back to the television.

"Gotham City police arrived on the scene shortly after midnight and discovered what is being called one of the most grumsome and horrific crimescenes in the city's history. Wexler has since been charged with the murders of more than twenty local females, some as young as seven years old."

Amy made a soft sound that expressed both sympathy for the victims and disgust for the killer. Rocky whined and turned his back to the screen.

"In a strange twist, the police department is now coming under fire for the condition of the accused, who had to be rushed to the hospital immediately after the arrest was made. Witnesses say Wexler was bludgeoned beyond recognition and one inside source says that the man will likely live out the rest of his days as a parapelegic."

"Can we change it yet?"

"Oh, hold on! It's almost over..."

"The police department is denying any wrongdoing, claiming that Wexler was in that condition when they found him. An investigation is pending..."

As the presenter's mood changed in an instand, his face was split by a dazzling white smile and he began to discuss sports.

"Investigation... ridiculous! They should've killed that monster on the spot!"

"Yeah..."

"Really, Rex! I mean... think about all those women! Those children! For God's sake! It was only a few blocks away! That could have been me down there..."

"No. Not you." Rex said, kissing Amy's forehead.

They settled into comfortable robes of silence for a few moments as the newscasters prattled on about nothing of relevance.

"I'm glad neither of us will ever have to witness that kind of thing." Amy said, her voice shaky with an odd mixture of anger and sadness.

"Me too..." Rex mumbled, a far away look in his eyes.

"Me too..."

 

[Ra's Al Ghul]

Before The Hood: Part 3​

No matter how much he tossed and turned, Jason simply couldn't get back to sleep.

The moonlight beaded down across his sheets, as he finally compromised, and laid himself flat on the mattress. Sweat was beading down his face, and his heart was racing. He had been having a weird dream all night. A familiar one, as he had lived it in question, but still very strange to watch unfold before his eyes.

It would always start with the traffic. The cars aligned on Blüdhaven's dividing bridge between it and the much larger city of Gotham. Rena would be telling him to slow down. He wouldn't be listening. Then the shot through the windshield. The peel down the crime scene. The arguing with Branden. All of it. All of it was the same goddamn thing as it had been, that night... up until a certain point.

By the time Jason would enter the door that concealed a family of grievers, there would be no one there. There would be no gun in his holster, as he cautiously entered the darkness, knowing... feeling there was something there, waiting for him. But no matter these concerns, Jason would step forward... only to have the door shut behind him. A white light would shine down in the middle. Jason would step towards it, never taking his eyes off of his surroundings. The urge to call for backup would be there, but he'd flatly ignore that, aswell. And as Jason would enter the light...

He would be there.

His crimson dome peering out of the darkness, The Red Hood killer would silently approach him without fear. Jason would do nothing for the first five seconds. But by the time the sixth rolled around, and Jason's mind would tell him to stop the perp, The Red Hood would beat him to the punch. A large, enlongated pistol would shoot up from his gloved hand, and lodge itself between both his palm, and Jason's temple. Despite the lack of knowledge that this was all nothing more than a dream, Jason would not fear the gun. He would just stand... waiting. Telling himself that he deserved it.

Then the click.

Then the bang.

And instead, The Red Hood would be the one to receive the blast. Jason would watch, as the helmet would burn off, exploding in an instant. Tiny shards of crimson glass would clang against the ground, as Jason would flinch, retracting his face as the smoke poured off of the now shattered dome. The Red Hood would fall to his knees, eventually dropping the gun. And it would land to Jason's feet. Immediately snatching it, he would instinctually load it, and pull down on the hammer. But he wouldn't be able to shoot. Because as he took a glance at the man behind the dome... Jason's jaw would drop, as he would realize who the face belonged to.

It was his.

Jason Todd was the man behind the mask of a killer.

This revelation would, undoubtedly, force Jason to drop his weapon. But the other Jason... the killer Jason, would only smile in a sadistic manner and laugh. He didn't even have the courage to kill his own darkness. And that's when a question flashed across Jason's mind: What could have possibly provoked him to kill someone else's? It was a question that left him unable to conceive the notion of a fantasy dream, such as this, and would ultimately be what shook him back to reality.

Before the demon would come, that is. Before The Batman would step out of the shadows. Jason had heard of the vigilante before... a few newspaper articles here, a few whispers on the streets there. Man or myth, Jason knew long ago that this fabrication of a large, creature of the night had inspired fear into the minds of criminals everywhere. It was something Jason had always been silently envious of. Where was that kind of fear when a cop strolled up to stop them? Would they really need fangs, wings, and horns to really grasp a true control over their pathetic minds?

All of these questions would seem to come at once, as The Batman's eyes burned crimson, and his vampiric teeth would hiss. Jason would notice Batman look to Red Hood, just before his attack. And then, suddenly, a genuine fear would overcome him, as he remembered... The Red Hood had his face. The Batman, spreading his wings across the shadows, would scream into the bowels of hell of which he had ascended from... and lash out at him. That's when he'd really wake up. Because just as The Batman's teeth would bite down into his blood, Jason would keep thinking about what had transpired before: Oh, my god. Am I the killer?

It was a valid query that Jason still had on his mind, even hours after awaking from that appallingly surreal nightmare. There was a confliction in his mind, raging on well past his control. Part of him questioned whether he was any different then The Red Hood, who, as Jason gravely remembered, could have easily been arrested without being killed. He was down, and out, in a large part to the efforts of the vigilante. All Jason had to do was slap on the cuffs, and book him, sending him behind bars for life. Instead, Todd had sent a bullet to the criminal's brain. The guy had been so far physically damaged from the shot that forensics couldn't even ID him. He was forever going to be The Red Hood, even in death.

Then, there was that other side of his mind. The darker half that Jason had felt lingering on ever since the shooting. The side of Jason that had enjoyed the thrill of watching him die, and taken pride in the fact that a killer would no longer roam the streets to take another innocent. It wasn't, by any means, a policeman's view of how justice should have been carried out... but Jason couldn't deny that it was there. That apart of him had actually enjoyed watching the criminal squirm, twitch, and fall dead infront of him.

Was he really as bad as The Red Hood for thinking that the killer's death was justified, when in good possibility, it could have been murder? Or... was it okay? Was it really just a matter of someone deserving to die, over the moral stance of someone needing to live? Why? Why did they need to live? Why didn't they need to suffer for their crimes?

A knock on the door interrupted Jason's train of thought. He pulled himself up, illuminated in the darkness by the moonlight. He looked towards the clock on his shelf: 4:26 AM. Grimly considering the possibilities of who it could possibly be, Jason finally leaped out of bed, and grabbed a spare t-shirt on his way. Maybe it was his catharsis, greeting him at the doorway. Maybe punishment for his darker desires no longer alluded him.

Not even bothing to look through the peephole to see who it was, Jason pulled back the rusted locks, and opened his apartment's door. His eyebrows shot up, as he saw Rena's face staring back at him. She was in full uniform, as if she were meeting him for patrol. Instead, she presented a small bag, labeled "Wolfram's Deli". Jason looked at it, then looked at her, confused.

"I'm on suspension, remember?"

She shrugged.

"Yeah, but... I figured you could use some company. After what happened, I... it's just..."

Jason waited for her to finish, skeptically believing she'd be calling him a killer too. Like Starlin had done oh, so discreetly.

"Look, I read your file. I know you don't have any family, and if the buzz around the office is any indication of your life in the outside world... you probably don't have many friends. But since you just went through what you went through... and I've seen alot of cops who have gone through this, believe me... maybe it wouldn't be too late to start?"

He silently pondered this. While Jason was, to an extent, pleased with how he had chosen to live his life in the last year since joining the force... he had never considered the possibility that he could have a social one, too. And as reluctant as he was to dwell on such thoughts... Officer Mackenzie was rather attractive, for a policewoman. Finally, Jason stepped away from the door, allowing her entry into his apartment.

"We'll see."

Ten minutes passed, of complete silence, as Jason and Rena sat down to eat what she had brought them. It wasn't the best breakfast that money could buy, but it was the first that Jason had eaten in days; Naturally, ever since the shooting occured. But as he finished his canoli, silently chewing the bites... Rena finally eased the tension, as she spoke up.

"South American."

Jason stopped, mid-bite, confused.

"The canoli. It's supposed to be siccillian... it was made by southern american's. Immigrants from..."

Rena stopped in her words, seeing Jason's perplexed face. It was obvious that he didn't particularly enjoy smalltalk. Eventually, she looked away, a little embarassed.

"Nevermind."

Another minute of silence passed. Then, surprisingly, Jason sat forward, with a sigh. Rena looked at him, wondering what he was thinking... until he, without warning, finally told her exactly what it was.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Uh... I... sure. Sure, Jason. Ask me anything."

"Do you believe in revenge?

Rena was silent. She didn't expect a question as strong as that. But from the look on Jason's face... an answer seemed all but unnessecary to give. Finally, she sat forward, at eye level with him.

"Look, if this is about The Red Hood..."

"Say it's not."

Jason looked up. "Just pretend it's a general question. One that someone has been asking himself for all of his life, yet never found the answer to."

Rena took a deep breath, but paused. This was getting even deeper by the moment.

"I... believe that revenge is up to interpretation. That there's never a real definition that defines what revenge is, what it could be, or even if it's the right course to take in someone's life."

Jason looked into her eyes, flatly.

"Then what's your definition?"

Rena looked back, hesitant. "How does that help you?"

"It will. Alot more than you'd know."

Rena didn't answer. Eventually, Jason sat closer.

"Please. Just tell me as a friend."

There was something about him... his look in the eyes. It was a message that Rena could read easily. That somewhere, deep inside the person she was looking at... there was a longing to truly bring a closure to a dark part of his life.

"I think of revenge as a last resort. I think that, as a decision someone makes, it has to be brought on by something bigger than us... something more painful than anything we could ever experience. But I think if we experience that pain, and we can't rid ourselves of it... revenge is the only course we have left to take."

Jason dwelled on her answer, intently, before giving a simple nod. "Thank you."

Rena smiled, a little, as Jason sat back in his seat. She looked around, trying to change the subject.

"Nice place."

"It's... something, I guess."

"Jason..."

Jason looked back at her.

"Can I ask you something, now?"

Before he could answer, Rena went on with the question. There was no avoiding it.

"Why did you want to know?"

Jason placed his hands together, slowly, before staring down at the floor.

"Because I think I may have made the biggest mistake of my life, and... I don't really know if I can punish myself for it."

Rena moved forward. "Then don't."

But all Jason Todd could think about was that nightmare. About Batman lashing out at him... his relived events, leading up to that moment. And most importantly, the most frightening image of all: His own face, behind the mask of The Red Hood.

My god... I really am a killer.

 

[Andy C.]

As Despero floats in the cornfields of Kansas, his mind wanders endlessly for his next target. He grows agitated as he can seem to find no trace of Jordan within the Earth's atmosphere. He had so carefully planned it out, and the Green Lantern was...no matter. He would simply have to improvise and make better of the situation.

And so, Despero's mind continues to wander the Earth, attempting to pinpoint the next hero.

A smile creeps over his face, and his third-eye starts to blink. He starts to rise higher above the cornfields, and starts to ascend to the heavens and the clouds. His smile glows as his sharp teeth shine as the blink in his third-eye quickens. And then, he is gone.

He appears right in front of Wonder Woman, for her to see. The silence only feeds his joy as he continues to read her mind. She views herself as a warrior, bred from the triumphant and proud Amazons of Themysciara. But her and her foolish sisters are so naive, it only makes it laughable as Despero ventures further into her mind.

I assure you, Amazon. You are not the hunter in this game. You are merely the sport: the prey.

"Fancy yourself the hunter if you will, monster. You'll soon see that I am no easy kill."

I rush towards him, whirling back at the last moment to land a spinning kick to his head. I hold back my full force, not knowing how resilient this creature truly is--if I'm going to find out what he did to Superman, I'll need him alive. However, pulling back my blows too much will do me no good either.

Following the kick, I let loose a flurry of blows to the midsection, hoping it will keep the monster off-balance.

"I do not yet know what it will take for you to fall,"I say as I clasp my fists together, "but you will fall."

I wind back, and slam my fists against the beast's jaw....

...and I pray to Hera that it will be enough.