The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG, Season 3.0

He ducked under the staff, reaching up and grabbing it and wrenching it out of her hand. He brought the staff into her ankles, knocking her over. He kicked her hard in the stomach, causing her to buckle over on the ground. He brought his shoe into her face, causing her to cry out. He held the staff over his head.

"I could do so many evil things to you," he muttered quietly to himself "It's a shame I'm short on time,"

He brought the staff down hard, breaking at least two ribs. He kicked her in the stomach again, before bringing a knife out of his pocket, and bringing it down savagely into her leg. He stepped on the handle, forcing it in further. He brought his foot down hard on her face again, digging in with the heel.

"Come on then, you stupid ****ing *****. Get up and fight the Black Mask," he snarled. She didn't move, curled up in a ball, hands over her stomach. He smiled, a sick twisted thing, and kicked her onto her back. He got on the floor, straddling her and held the staff to her throat, strangling her.

"This is what you get. This is what you get when you play with the big boys girly. You get your sweet ass handed back to you,"


My windpipe was slowly crushing under the pressure. If it weren't for my hands trying to push back the staff, I might've suffocated already. But I've dealt with worse. Using all I have in me, I started to push back. Black Mask tried to use gravity to his advantage, but once I had my elbows locked, there was no way he could.

There was soon enough leeway for me to kick Black Mask off of me and onto his back, while I vaulted into a backflip to make some distance between us.

"ARGGH! You f***ing ****e!" He said in a rage, scramblimg to get some footing and stand back up.

He yelled out in a charge and he slammed me into a wall, but I thrusted back to push him back to the window on the opposite side of the room. Then I shoved his torso so that it was outside of the window, and his life was in my hands.

"Do it, b****. Drop me. You know you want to..."

"I won't."

"C'mon! Do it! Tread that thin line you seem to come close to everytime you put on that mask. Break your one rule..."

"NO! I'm not like you!"

"Fine. You win. I guess I'll just have to give you that little nudge..."

He pulled out another knife fromt his sleeve and stabbed it into my forearm, causing me to let go in pain and turn away. I pulled out the knife and the one in my leg before turning back to the window, where he was gone. I let him fall. I killed him...

"No..."

But then my sight was all fuzzy, and I was growing dizzy. I couldn't make out the shapes anymore. It was all going black. And the last though in my mind before passing out was... I let him die, and I could care less.
 
He pulled out another knife fromt his sleeve and stabbed it into my forearm, causing me to let go in pain and turn away. I pulled out the knife and the one in my leg before turning back to the window, where he was gone. I let him fall. I killed him...

"No..."

But then my sight was all fuzzy, and I was growing dizzy. I couldn't make out the shapes anymore. It was all going black. And the last though in my mind before passing out was... I let him die, and I could care less.
He was falling. But it was a long way down. He saw the water that surrounded Blackgate Island, and tried to shift his body towards it. The air was sailing past his ears. The last thing he saw was the roof of a police car rushing up to meet him.

He opened his eyes. This surprised him. He tried to move his left arm, but it was pinned under some metal. Wincing, he pulled the largest chunk of metal out of his arm, and clenched his arm above the wound. Vaguely aware of staunching the blood...or something like that. He lifted himself out of the wreckage of the car and onto his legs. They were shakey, and he collapsed onto the floor. ****. That can't be good. He checked his jacket. One pistol left. He pulled it out of his jacket, and checked it over. A magnum, two bullets left in it. He actually couldn't recall when he had used it during the figt. He pushed himself to his feet again, wincing but overcoming the pain. He had one last job to do.

---

The taxi pulled up to the bakery, the rain pouring down and drumming on the roof. A figure stepped from the yellow door, not bothering to pay the taxi driver. The trenchcoat was buttoned up tight around him, a fedora perched on his head, putting his face in shadow. He staggered through the puddles, before pushing on the door to the bakery open. A middle aged woman stood behind the counter, a variety of breads on display.

"We're closed,"she said, looking up as he stepped in.

"I'm here to see Mr. Thorne," he croaked.

"We're closed," she repeated. He sighed.

"Last chance. Get out of my way," he growled.

"We're-" the old woman started, before Black Mask sighed and revealed a large metal spanner that had been up his trenchcoat.

"I found this on the way over," he explained, before bringing the spanner down on the old woman's head with a crack. She didn't even scream, just fell to the ground as blood spurted from her head. He jumped over the counter, and stepped over her body, putting his tailored shoes in the sticky blood. He walked over to the phone that was on the wall, and dialled up 9111.

"You don't mind if I use this do you?" he asked the corpse on the floor.

"This is the Gotham City Police Department. Please state your location and emergency,"

"I'm at the bakery on 39th Street. There's a murderer in the building. Oh god, it's horrible," he said, before knocking the phone off of the wall with the spanner.

He opened the back door slowly, creeping inside. There was a staircase to the left in the dark room, and there were no bodyguards to be seen. He put his back to the wall, edging up the side of the staircase, spanner in hand. When he reached the top landing, he crouched down on the ground and crawled around the corner. Sure enough, there were two bruisers, with shaven heads and guns in hand. He stood up and walked towards them.

"Goons," he anounced "Hired goons!"

The two thugs looked at each other, then charged at him, seeming to forget the guns in their hands. Perfect, he thought. He swung the spanner like a baseball bat, cracking one thug in the jaw, causing blood to fly up into the air. He turned and thrusted at the other man, hitting him in the stomach and winding him. He brought the spanner down again over his head, knocking him to the ground. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"Smoke?" he asked the prone men "Oh, right of course,"

He marched forwards, and through the door that was at the end of the corridor. There was a large room inside with a rather fat man sitting at an antique desk. There were exquisite curtains drawn across the windows, and the man with white hair scowled at him.

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded, slamming his fist on the table.

"I'm the Black Mask," he declared, giving a demented grin " You must be Rupert Thorne. I don't believe we've met,"

"How the **** did you know where I am?"

"What, your private office where only your closest men come? Here's a hint - get people who don't drink," Roman said, standing casually by the door.

"You freak. I'll ****ing murder you in your sleep," he growled. Then he stopped, like a dog hearing a whistle.

"Oh, you can hear them can you?" he asked.

"What the hell have you done?" Thorne shouted, standing up.

"What does anyone do when they're confronted with a dangerous criminal? I called the police," he stated plainly, drawing the magnum.

"You're crazy!"

"Got it in one," Roman said, grinning. Thorne made for the pistol that was in his desk. Black Mask fired the gun once, hitting his hand. Thorne screamed.

"Rupert, Rupert, Rupert. I've got a message for you from Harvey Dent," he breathed.

"Dent? But he's-"

"He says the freaks are taking back Gotham," he whispered, then pressed the magnum to Thorne's throat and fired.
 
Tommy finished sewing up the leg of an officer, snipping the end of the thread off. He gestured to a couple of his workmates to shift him onto a gurney. The telephone started ringing, and he grabbed it impatiently.

"Forensics and Crime Scene Analysis," he stated, leaning his back against the wall and peeling his blood soaked gloves off of his hands.

"Is that Elliot?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked.

"Does it matter?" he sighed.

"There's been a murder,"

"In Gotham? Really? You do surprise me,"

"Look we're at the Brentwood Academy, we need to get someone to have a look at this before the area gets contaminated,"

"Wow...did someone have to tell you that photenitcally?" Tommy asked.

"What are you...? Look, Tom, stop being such an ass and get down here,"

"Okay, looks like the paramedics are getting here anyway, so there's no reason for me to stay down here. I'll be there in about twenty minutes, okay?"

"Make it quick, I wanna clean this **** up before the school opens tomorrow,"

"Don't pretend that you care if a few kids see a dead body or not. Seeya," he said, putting the phone on a hook.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, grabbing his trenchcoat and walking out of the lab.
 
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"We're approachin' Blackgate Isle now, sir."

Harvey Dent sat in the back of the police copter, hunched over in mid-meditation as one of the clowns told him they had arrived to the destination. The burns on the other side of his face felt the stinging rush of heat in the heat of the air as they arrived, prompting him to break meditation completley. His eyes opened, as he peered outside to look at the situation for himself. What greeted him was a burning prison wall below, as the copter rose in order to avoid the flames. Two-Face squinted, slightly, in order to see if any prisoners were escaping. They weren't. Instantly, Harvey's hands clenched the fabric of his pants in frustration. There was only one explaination for that rather crude parameter.

He caught on. Damn him, HE CAUGHT ON!

It didn't make any sense. He had taken every precaution to overbrush his steps and not leave a clear pattern to tonight's events. He knew Freeze and Ivy's raid of the courthouse would grab considerable attention, but it was supposed to distract the rest of the media from what would occur at Blackgate and the Police Department. He had counted on Batman's involvement when Rachel Dawes' life was on the line... but not the other locations. It didn't make any sense, unless...

Betrayal. Two-Face grit his teeth together as the anger coursed through his veins. In truth, he should have seen it coming. Even though they were instructed not to squeal about the attacks, Freeze and Ivy couldn't be trusted. They thought they wouldn't get caught, and they thought they'd kill Batman before he could stop them, even when Harvey warned the possibility of failure. But when they were, their ego was replaced by cowardice. They knew they'd be going down, and instread of sacrificing themselves for the cause, they wanted to ensure Two-Face himself rotted in Arkham with them. Yes, it was all beginning to become quite clear. Harvey had made a mistake in enlisting them. Which meant the others' loyalty could falter aswell...

"Should we still land, Mr. Dent?"

"No.", Harvey responded. "And don't call me 'Dent'. It's Two-Face. Two-Face. Just like the rest of this god forsaken city!"

The clowns immediately quieted, in fear. Harvey sighed to himself.

"No. We'll leave Sionis and Dr. Crane to do their parts as intended. They can find their own way back. Provided they do come back, that is..."

"Then where are we headed?"

Harvey smirked to himself, reaching into his jacket's pocket. "Oh, I never said we were leaving..."

*BLAM* *BLAM*

The clown in the passenger's slumped onto the dashboard, dead. The pilot turned, horrified, as Two-Face lashed out from his seat, undid the corpse's seat belt, and pushed him out of the copter. The clown went flying through the air, tumbling in circles, before hitting the pavement of Blackgate's courtyard, causing several prisoners to jump in fright. Two-Face sadistically smiled at the sight, taking the clown's place in the passenger's seat as the clown pilot stared, jaw dropped at what just occured.

"Jesus Christ!", He exclaimed. "Why the... why the hell did you do that?!"

Two-Face turned, annoyed, raising his gun. The clown turned back to his controls, not saying another word. Lowering the weapon, Harvey stuck it back into his pocket, before producing something else: His silver dollar coin.

"I flipped for your lives.", He revealed. "Heads, he paid the price. Tails, we all went down. It was a fair toss, and just enough to deliver a message to The Bat."

"But... but if we all would'a went down, that means you-"

"Please,", Dent scoffed. "You honestly think I'd be opposed to escaping this nightmare I call a life? I can't tell you how many times I've considered it. But I live my life by two codes. One where justice prevails. The other where fate is determined by chance. And chances were, he was going to die anyway."

The clown looked over, then back again. He obviously didn't share the same code that Two-Face did. But he wasn't about to say anything to anger the guy. After all... he still had the gun. And he sure as hell proved he wasn't afraid to use it. Piloting the chopper away from the prison, the craft turned, heading back into Gotham City. All the while, the clown worriedly looked back.

"Joker's not gonna like this."

Dent raised an eyebrow. "You don't know your boss very well, do you?"
 
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They said an axe could cut through the dense fog that surrounded the Gotham City Fairgrounds. Of course, such a term could only be used as an expression. But little did anyone know, within the main tents, the term went from a form of expressionism to something quite more literal.

Carving deep into the crudely painted wooden target, the first axe's blade was joined by a second. Then a third, and subsequently fourth. The axes' wielder, dressed in a bizzaire mix of Gothic horror and the garb of a traditional circus clown, smiled to himself as he realized his throw was improving. The individuals behind him were performing individual stunts seperate from his act: A teenage girl, dressed in a similarly disturbing outfit, was riding a unicycle. A heavily obese male was lifting five hundred and eighty five pounds of raw metal. Another girl, and her twin brother, were swinging off of the trapeze above, continually leaping through hoops of fire on each end. And lasltly, a fairly built male wearing a makeshift silver crown and makeup, beating away at a punching bag. With a last heated effort, the punches became harder, until the bag finally snapped from it's chain and collided with a nearby stack of barrels.

Breathing heavily, "King" bent over, holding himself up by his knees.

"Getting slow, old man?" The axe-wielder called 'Jack' mocked, throwing another blade into the target. "You could always quit. It would save us the considerable energy to make you look half decent..."

"Bite me, junior.", King shot back. "The only reason this act goes anywhere is because people still crave the classics."

"There's a difference between 'classic' and 'senile'.", Jack smirked. "One can't die, the other won't."

"Ey, lay off 'em, kiddo.", The large man, "Ace", interjects, letting his dumbells fall to the ground. "King's been a champ for years. Half'a us owe our careers to the guy."

"I believe he's right, brother dearest.", The unicycle girl, Queen, calls out, beginning to juggle ten knives. "But by the same card, none of us are quite justified to talk."

"She's got a point,", King agrees. "Our comeback show is in less than a week, and if we keep bickering at eachother like schoolkids, we won't be able to make enough cash to support a roof over our heads."

"Or a tent, fo' that matter.", Ace corrects.

"Tent, roof, what does it matter?", Jack begins in disgust. "The act has gotten stale. We all know it. That's why everyone stopped coming... we were nothing but an old hat trick. And it's because none of you are willing to step up and deliver something new!"

"Our act has nothing to do with it,", King asserted. "It's the city we live in. People are afraid to go out at night, much less visit some dungey old carnival that hasn't been refurbished in years..."

"Ah, yes. The ever present Gotham City nightlife!", The male trapeze artist, Spade, exclaims, doing a somersaulted land. He is closely followed by his sister, the one called 'Ten'. "I've often wondered what it is about the city that leaves everyone so terrified."

"Well, then... wonder no more."

The five turn, instantly, as an unfamiliar cackle echoes throughout the grounds. They look around in every which direction, trying to deciepher the origin, before they realize that the laugh has made it's way into their tent itself. Until finally, a darkened, overcoated figure steps through, clapping his hands together in a somewhat mocking manner.

"Of course, why limit myself to Gotham?", He continues in a rant. "Afterall, there's an entire world of impecibly, disgustingly normal people who haven't yet seen the funny side."

Immediately, though somewhat perplexed himself, King steps infront of the group to address the stranger.

"I'm sorry, are you with one of the other acts?"

"Oh, just the act of life...", The stranger replies, a large grin frozen onto his face, as he reaches into his jacket's inner pocket. "But I'm more of a fan, really."

"A fan, huh?", King asks, with a somewhat smile. "Well, glad to meet anyone that remembers the old act..."

"I wasn't talking about the act.", The stranger corrects, producing a deck of cards. "I was actually referring to the gimmick. Clowns, and cards. Cards, and clowns. You wouldn't happen to need any spares, would you?"

Jack turns to the others, quieting his voice. "If this guy is apart of an act, he's got my ticket fare."

"Look, I don't know what you want, pal, but this tent's off limits to visitors.", King explains. "So, if you'd just make your way out of here, I'm sure the guys at the gate will give you a coupon or something..."

"Oh! The guys at the gate! Great sense of humor, those gentlemen...", The stranger proceeds. "I practically had them dying."

"Yeah... well, like I said..."

"Actually, you want to know the really funny thing about this?", The stranger asks. "I'm not the trespasser here. You are. You all are, as a matter of fact."

King stares blankly. He had been uncomfortable talking to this person the entire time, but now... he just didn't get what he was talking about at all.

"Who the hell are you?", He finally asks.

"The new owner to the deed of the grounds.", The stranger nods with glee. "Well, not so much 'owner' as 'keeper', but details can be something of a pesk..."

"That's 'mpossible.", Ace interrupts. "I known Mr. Robinson since I came to this place. He would'a never sold this place out to anyone. It was his life."

"Oh, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter.", The stranger replied. "You see, when I made my proposal, he all but handed the deed over to me..."

Reaching into his pocket once more, the stranger pulled out a large piece of worn paper. But what horrified the entire group was that ontop of it lied not one, but two human fingers, sliced off of the bone and stuck to the stop in a large stain of blood. Recognizing this, the gleeful Clown Prince violently shook the deed, ridding it of the appendeges.

"Oh, wow. Dear me. That is just embarassing...", The Joker sardonically rambled, wiping the fresh blood of his fingertips onto his pants. "I mean, honestly. You try to tidy up, and look where it gets you..."

Instantly enraged, King shot forward, grabbing The Joker by his coat and lifting him off of the ground by a couple of inches.

"What the hell have you done?!"

"Me? Why, it's him that needed the smile...", He replied dryly. "I just obliged, because if there's any crime I cannot tolerate, it's that of gloom."

"Jack, call the cops.", King ordered. "This mask wearing freak did something to Robinson!"

"You really don't hear well, do you?", The Joker asked.

"Jack! The cops! Now!"

"Oh, why do I even bother..."

*BLAM*

King's eyes rolled into the back of his head, as the rest of the group looked on, horrified. With a loud thug, King's body came crashing to the ground, releasing The Joker from his grip as the madman held a smoking handheld pistol in his palm.

"Now, you see? That right there is why I exist.", He taunts, looking over the body as if it were nothing to him. "There's a blatant stench of ignorance in this city, and it's people like him... the so-called propriotors of 'logic', that have created a society so uncomedic."

Kicking the corpse, The Joker needlessly fires another bullet into it. "And by the way? That comment was uncalled for. 'Freak', I can handle, but 'mask wearing'? There are masks, and there are our true faces... and this face is, by no means, my mask."

"W-What do you want?", Queen asks, geniunely terrified. "Please, just tell us what you want!"

"A world that mirrors itself in the most twisted of ways, my dear.", The Joker promptly answers. "And believe it or not, you're all going to help me achieve something very similar to that."

They all look at eachother, dumbfounded. Ace finally speaks up, once more.

"I ain't workin' for no freak that killed my best friend."

"Again, with these assumptions of free will...", The Joker annoyedly responds, waving the gun. "Do I really have to make all of my points with this thing?"

Ace quiets down, shrinking from his brave stance in little more than a second.

"That's better.", The madman attests. "Now, here's the deal. You all work for me, or none of you work at all. And I'm not talking about some sort of display for the undercrowd... I'm talking about true work for the good of all that is inhumane. You will take orders, you will carry out orders, and you will live. Don't, and... well, again, I just don't care much for too many details. It ruins the illusion."

"W-What do you want us to do?", Spade asks. "We're not really good at anything besides entertaining..."

"Oh, but you see, that's perfect!", The Joker cackles, delighted. "That's precisely what your tasks are going to be. To entertain. Specifically, an old friend of mine. You see, he's going to be visiting me very soon, and I want to give him one hell of a show."

Ten looks up for the first time, her makeup smeared by horrified tears.

"F-Friend?", She asks."You killed King and Mr. Robinson just to ask us to entertain some friend of your's?!"

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds cruel...", The Joker replies. "But that's beside the point. This is no ordinary friend. Infact, one could say that he's quite not right in the head. On the verge of... Batiness, if you will."

The Joker places his hands onto his chest, in a dramatic display of motion. "I just want to show him that I really care! And then he, too, can laugh at the joke of life..."

With a sinister smile behind his headwear, The Clown Prince turns back to the group, placing his weapon back into his jacket... and by the same stroke, revealing many more within, killing all hope within the group that they can escape the madman. At least, alive.

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"Now... who's going to volunteer first?"
 
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ex Luthor


Lex stood on the roof of the LexCorp tower, his newly-augmented Warsuit fully charged, the added psionic disruptor field ready to deploy with half a second's thought.

Even so fearsomely armed, Luthor was quite confident that he would not need these weapons. Despero seemed to be little more than a blunt object with power he could barely comprehend, a child with a shiny new toy. Cosmic abilities or no, he would be no match for the world's smartest man.

Still, it didn't hurt to take precautions.

"L-Soft," Lex issued a voice command to the LexCorp AI system, "I want the targeting systems on Despero at all times while he's here. If the disruptor field fails, I want you to fire the Binary Fusion Cannon on his location immediately. No exceptions, no excuses."

Understood, Mr. Luthor. However, I do not believe it will be necessary. My calculations indicate a less than 0.0004% probability of failure, and furthermore--

"Just keep the damn gun ready to shoot. I don't feel like taking my chances when dealing with--"

"I shall be there...momentarily."

Despero flies down, re-entering the skies and clouds of Earth from space, and immediately his telepathic powers kick in, attempting to locate the human. After a moment, the villain smiles, and stops in mid-air. Looking to the east of his location, with the blink of his third eye, he teleports.

"--aliens."

The ugly purple brute suddenly appeared on the rooftop with Lex, towering over him with a monstrously arrogant grin on his face.

"So, Despero," Luthor said, regaining his composure now that he was face-to-face with the enemy, "since we're both intelligent beings here--well, at least one of us is--I believe we can skip the needless posturing and get to business."
 
The ugly purple brute suddenly appeared on the rooftop with Lex, towering over him with a monstrously arrogant grin on his face.

"So, Despero," Luthor said, regaining his composure now that he was face-to-face with the enemy, "since we're both intelligent beings here--well, at least one of us is--I believe we can skip the needless posturing and get to business."

IC:
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The very first thing Despero attempts, is to read the human's mind. He finds difficulty doing so, but does not show his concern. Instead, his grin simply widens as he leans in closer to the human. The alien tilts his head to the side, before pulling himself backward and laughing.

"Hahahaha. You are one impressive specimen, are you not? I would've thought the people of Earth too primitive to build such a device that could disrupt my telepathic waves...and to such a small, condensed, form. I'd bow to you, human, for your most impressive of triumphs..."

Despero slowly starts to bow, but stops halfway, and jolts his head upward with that same devilish smile.

"...but Despero bows to no one."

Regaining his posture, Despero starts to levitate, taking a view of the surrounding area. He finds himself in no possible state of danger, no matter what the human tries. The last being in the galaxy that would out smart him, would be a homosapien.

"You are not like the others. I do not have to read your mind to realize this. So...entice me, bald one. Why have you been spying on my activies? What is this...business...you wish to discuss?"
 
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ex Luthor


The very first thing Despero attempts, is to read the human's mind. He finds difficulty doing so, but does not show his concern. Instead, his grin simply widens as he leans in closer to the human. The alien tilts his head to the side, before pulling himself backward and laughing.

"Hahahaha. You are one impressive specimen, are you not? I would've thought the people of Earth too primitive to build such a device that could disrupt my telepathic waves...and to such a small, condensed, form. I'd bow to you, human, for your most impressive of triumphs..."

Despero slowly starts to bow, but stops halfway, and jolts his head upward with that same devilish smile.

"...but Despero bows to no one."

Regaining his posture, Despero starts to levitate, taking a view of the surrounding area. He finds himself in no possible state of danger, no matter what the human tries. The last being in the galaxy that would out smart him, would be a homosapien.

"You are not like the others. I do not have to read your mind to realize this. So...entice me, bald one. Why have you been spying on my activies? What is this...business...you wish to discuss?"

It was all Lex could do to not roll his eyes. Why was it that every super-powered freak who faced off with him seemed to think floating in front of him would be imposing? After dealing with a man who could bench-press a mountain, a levitation act was hardly going to send a chill down his spine.

Still, no need in making this any less pleasant.

"It seems to me that we have what you might call a conflict of interests," Luthor began. "You're clearly intent on overthrowing this planet's so-called protectors and declaring dominion over it. Unfortunately, that is precisely what I am here to do as well. And seeing as the two of us can't rule the same one planet, that would put us at odds."

Lex nonchalantly paced in front of the alien monster.

"Then again, who says our goals have to be mutually exclusive? After all, you've got the power to make most obstacles disappear, while I already have the trust and support of most of the populace. Frankly, you'd be saving me a lot of time in putting up the new order, and I'd be saving you the trouble of keeping the human race in line.

"There's no reason both of us can't benefit from this. If you're looking to conquer the cosmos of what have you, you'll need governors to keep the little sections of your empire under control. Therefore, if you keep doing what you're doing and finish off the opposition, I'll more than gladly pick up your slack and keep humanity definitively subdued."

Luthor's voice hardened, and his eyes narrowed.

"Make no mistake, Despero, I will rule the Earth, with your consent or without. It all depends on whether or not you want to be on the winning team. Carve out an easy-to-manage piece of your future empire, or be brought underfoot when I do it myself."

Lex extended his hand.

"So...what do you say?"
 
"There's no reason both of us can't benefit from this. If you're looking to conquer the cosmos of what have you, you'll need governors to keep the little sections of your empire under control. Therefore, if you keep doing what you're doing and finish off the opposition, I'll more than gladly pick up your slack and keep humanity definitively subdued."

Luthor's voice hardened, and his eyes narrowed.

"Make no mistake, Despero, I will rule the Earth, with your consent or without. It all depends on whether or not you want to be on the winning team. Carve out an easy-to-manage piece of your future empire, or be brought underfoot when I do it myself."

Lex extended his hand.

"So...what do you say?"

IC:
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"You are quite bold, human. As I said earlier...your race, is a primitive race. You lack the proper psych to challenge my own without the creation of your petty devices. Dominance over this planet and its people's minds...is not of my concern."

Despero descends back onto the rooftop, walking towards Luthor. His third eye glows, and a few antennas on the rooftop, sprout out of the roof like plants, and swirl around Despero. Witnessing Luthor's reaction, only makes it that much sweeter, when Despero starts to lift the heavy mass of Luthor's suit at the very same time.

"I can bend your kind to my will, in more than one way. You humans are just that fragile. Besides, I had already had people in mind to maintain my Order and Reign on this planet before I my use of it is complete. The very same heroes I have taken from this planet, will be the very same oppressors of my invasion. When your weak, fragile, people see that their saviours have turned against them...then what do you think they will do?"

Despero walks up to Luthor, his third eye glowing immensely.

"Who else can they turn to...You?"

Despero turns around, his telekenetic hold on Lex's power suit let go, and he hears Luthor activate the jet boosters on his boots to ease his landing. For a moment, Despero just stands there with his back turned to Lex. All three of his eyes close shut, and he thinks for a moment.

This mere human, was able to block his telepathic powers in that well structed battle suit of his. What other toys could he possibly have at his disposal. Could he truly bring an end to Despero's plans? So many calculations to consider...with so little time. This stall on Phase II came unexpected entirely. Could there be more humans like this one that he underestimated? Without the god-like gifts like the ones he had already disposed of. Could this human...truly be the end of him?

Despero turns around. He must keep a watchful eye on this human. Even he cannot trust him, he must pay attention to his actions, until the time comes. Once the human has fulfilled his worth in the name of Despero, and becomes disposable, he shall be struck down.

"One can never have enough allies in a plan this mass of scale. And since...the rest shall be nothing but puppets on my string, it would be most wise to have one utilizing their own brain. You say you can make my hostile take over much more...fluid and simple."

The alien crosses his arms, raising his eyebrow to play off his curiosity.

"How?"
 
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ex Luthor


"You are quite bold, human. As I said earlier...your race, is a primitive race. You lack the proper psych to challenge my own without the creation of your petty devices. Dominance over this planet and its people's minds...is not of my concern."

Despero descends back onto the rooftop, walking towards Luthor. His third eye glows, and a few antennas on the rooftop, sprout out of the roof like plants, and swirl around Despero. Witnessing Luthor's reaction, only makes it that much sweeter, when Despero starts to lift the heavy mass of Luthor's suit at the very same time.

"I can bend your kind to my will, in more than one way. You humans are just that fragile. Besides, I had already had people in mind to maintain my Order and Reign on this planet before I my use of it is complete. The very same heroes I have taken from this planet, will be the very same oppressors of my invasion. When your weak, fragile, people see that their saviours have turned against them...then what do you think they will do?"

Despero walks up to Luthor, his third eye glowing immensely.

"Who else can they turn to...You?"

Despero turns around, his telekenetic hold on Lex's power suit let go, and he hears Luthor activate the jet boosters on his boots to ease his landing. For a moment, Despero just stands there with his back turned to Lex. All three of his eyes close shut, and he thinks for a moment.

This mere human, was able to block his telepathic powers in that well structed battle suit of his. What other toys could he possibly have at his disposal. Could he truly bring an end to Despero's plans? So many calculations to consider...with so little time. This stall on Phase II came unexpected entirely. Could there be more humans like this one that he underestimated? Without the god-like gifts like the ones he had already disposed of. Could this human...truly be the end of him?

Despero turns around. He must keep a watchful eye on this human. Even he cannot trust him, he must pay attention to his actions, until the time comes. Once the human has fulfilled his worth in the name of Despero, and becomes disposable, he shall be struck down.

"One can never have enough allies in a plan this mass of scale. And since...the rest shall be nothing but puppets on my string, it would be most wise to have one utilizing their own brain. You say you can make my hostile take over much more...fluid and simple."

The alien crosses his arms, raising his eyebrow to play off his curiosity.

"How?"

Luthor made a point of letting out a bored sigh.

"You hear, but you don't listen. I'd hate to break it to you, but you're not the first big scary space-man to come to this planet and declare himself god. I destroyed the last one, just so you know," Lex half-lied. "For all of your empty rhetoric, you don't seem to have much of a plan aside from brute force, and that line of thinking is going to get you killed."

Inwardly, Lex grinned. This alien may have been as strong as Superman, but was nowhere near the intellectual challenge.

"Of course the human race will turn to me for their true salvation--especially when I provide them with everything they need to defeat the costumed overlords. Even with your superpowered lieutenants, they will always love me, far more than they'll ever fear you. Empowering the people will make them a thousand times more loyal than simply trying to stamp out resistance.

"And as for you, once I've mass-produced this psionic disruptor I've got and rendered the entire planet immune to your little brain-powers, it's all just a matter of finding a gun big enough to kill you. I happen to own such a gun already, which at full power could core a decent-sized moon. I don't care how invulnerable you think you are, there's always going to be someone better. And that someone is me."

It was always better to negotiate from a position of power, so Lex wanted to take full advantage of that. He would prefer things to not get messy at this particular juncture--especially now with Project Wildfire so close at hand--but he had to make sure Despero knew who was really calling the shots here.

"So back to your question at hand: how do I make your job easier? For starters, this nation's government--as well as a few others I'm keeping off the books--is equipped with all sorts of super-weapons for just this sort of occasion, and all of them are of my design. They'd certainly make things difficult for your little invasion force, and the right one in the right place would wipe that grin off of your face permanently. So if I, say, use my backdoor programs to ensure those weapons fail, you'd be spared some extremely nasty setbacks.

"Furthermore, my Society has integral connections with most of the world's political and military forces. It would be easy to send unaffiliated powers misleading information, sabotage war efforts, incite political in-fighting, thus ensuring tactical failures and governmental collapses. With your opposition falling apart from the inside, it would be extremely easy for you to roll right over them.

"And then, when the sole powers on Earth are you and me...we'll see what's what."

Lex wasn't going to give any ground, but wanted to make sure the deal was as attractive as possible. That way, it would be that much easier to break him when the deal was off.

"So consider it a form of a non-aggression pact. You enslave the superhumans, and I'll be more than happy to kill them if they get out of hand. I'll set the world's armies up just right for you to knock them down. I'm going to make conquering the world that much easier for you, because it spares me the trouble of doing it myself."

The War-suit's heads-up display (which played across his contact lenses) showed that the Binary Fusion Cannon was at full power, ready to fire in case Despero got out of hand. His subconscious wanted to just fry the monster right now and be done with it, but Lex kept a clear head. He wasn't about to hand over the reins of humanity to a purple ogre, but it would make the Society's long-term goals infinitely easier.

"So that's my offer. This conquest can be a walk in the park for you, or a living hell. It all depends on how you want to play the game."
 
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Coming Of The Cat: Part 1

One Year Ago

No matter what anyone told you, it was hard being a kid on the streets of Gotham City.

No one would look at you. No one would give you the time of day. If you asked for money, chances were, no one had any to spare or give back. That's not to say, Gotham didn't have it's share of rich people. There were plenty of them. Like that one couple that was murdered on the same streets. People like them and their orphaned son were the people of privilege. But none of them knew what it was like to experience the other side of life. None of them knew what it took to survive on a turf which could easily turn from home to hell at the drop of the hat.

But Selina Kyle knew it. She had lived it all of her life.

At her current age of nineteen, going on only twenty years old, Selina was a young woman that had experienced multiple lifetimes. So much so, that anyone that knew her often remarked that she had nine of them, like a cat. While that may or may not have been true, to her, it seemed as if each one of them had viciously stabbed her in the back and left a lasting scar. And for someone so young, so filled with promise, it was hard for her to digest the notion that she was in the prime of her life, looking ahead towards the best years. At the same time, however... she felt like anything else would be an improvement.

It was New Year's Eve, and Selina was on her way to a new home. Hardly out of practice, given she had been to so many places to call home that she really couldn't do so. But at the same time, this one didn't have the same sense of impending peril that every other one did. This one actually seemed stable, and in good hands, given that Selina had known it's owner for years. It only added to the bittersweet thought of the moment, she pondered, as she was being driven there from across Gotham's Park Row. From the back of a squad car.

While Selina had experienced a troubled life, that didn't nessecarily mean that she had practiced avoiding it. Rather, it seemed in these past few years, she almost wanted to embrace it and stop running. And that, unfortunately, is what often placed her in this spot. A runaway since sixteen years old, Selina had been forced to steal to survive. But just because she was forced to do something didn't justify it as the right thing, as she would learn from multiple captures and arrests. Needless to say... Selina Kyle wasn't a name the Gotham PD were nessecarily unfamiliar with.

The officer driving her looked back, as Selina depressingly stared out the window, watching the snow fall as they passed. In a way, he felt sorry for her, as she reminded him of his own daughter. But a quick rememberance of her criminal record only assured him that she was not, by any means, to be pitied. She found her own way into this spot, as far as she was concerned.

Still, the look on the kid's face was enough to melt a guy's heart several times over. She had obviously seen some rough stuff in her time. Finally, he managed to speak up.

"Always loved this time'a year."

Selina didn't pay any attention. The officer, who was actually an MCU veteran Detective by the name of Samuel "Slam" Bradley, kept waiting for a response. But of course, none came, prompting him to speak up again. He didn't know why he should bother... if the kid didn't want to talk, she didn't want to talk. But Bradley was a self-described sentimental old geezer... and call it old fashioned, but he didn't believe a girl so young should be so depressed during the holidays. With a slight smile, he peered up into the backseat mirror.

"Must be nice, goin' to see your family again on New Year's. Bet they're just anxious to see you."

Even as she stared out the window, never making eye contact with him, Selina managed to respond back. "I wouldn't know."

Slam raised an eyebrow, puzzled by her remark. And just like that, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He had read her report, earlier, when she had been booked for a count three robbery and evading arrest. It said her dad was on Ryker's Island in Metropolis, with her mom having been deceased since the day he was indicted. And even though she had an older brother, he had long since left town, leaving her on her own for pretty much the rest of her life. Realizing that, Slam instantly wanted to put his foot in his mouth. What a thing to say...

It was only a relief that, minutes later, they arrived on Cameron and Stewart street, which was conviently Selina's destination. Slam peered back again, though a bit more cautiously, as Selina grabbed her bags, backpack, and zipped up her coat. As he stared, Selina looked to him with a bit of a cold glare. Not because of the man himself... simply because she had come to distrust any cop in Gotham City. Slam turned around, immediately, as Selina departed the back seat.

"Hey, kid."

Selina turned around, annoyed, as the passenger window slid down. Slam handed her a set of papers, all of which were legal documents. Selina didn't particularly care to look them over, as Slam explained what they were.

"Your, er... guardian, is gonna have to sign these and send em' back to the station. For insurance purposes, incase you ever get-"

Selina raised an eyebrow. "Incase I ever get arrested again?"

Slam nervously smiled back.

"Actually, I was gonna... ah... say 'hurt'. But yeah, that... that too."

Selina didn't reply. She simply slipped the papers under her arm, grabbed her bags once more, and treked through the snow as Slam watched. Rolling up the window, the tired old officer drove away, still cursing himself for what he had said earlier. The truth is, Selina didn't care. She just wanted to get in, get comfortable, and forget all of her troubles for once... half heartedly knowing that no matter what she did, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Hey, look on the bright side, Selina... you're not on the streets anymore. Just make the move out of Gotham, and you'll be set...

"Selina! Oh my god, it's been forever!"

Even before Selina had made it to the front door, it had swung open, revealing the bright and cheery figure of Holly Robinson. At first, Selina didn't know how to take the greeting she had got, as Holly grabbed her in a hug. It was just so... different, from whenever she had gone to live with other people. But she and Holly went way back... back before Selina could barely remember. It almost seemed like a different life ago, now. But what she was experiencing was a new emotion entirely, as Holly squeezed her in bliss: satisfaction.

Selina halfway smiled, hesitatingly throwing her arms around Holly aswell. "It's... nice to see you too, Holly. It really is."

As they parted, Holly excitedly grabbed her by the arm.

"Don't stand out there all night, girl! Come on in! Make yourself at home!"

Allowing herself to be caught up in the moment, Selina was pulled into the apartment, which immediately caught her in a warm, fragrant air; much different from the Gotham alleyways she had been taken from. Looking around, she quickly noticed two things: how small the place was compared to what she had imagined, and how much bigger it was in comparison to all of her previous homes. It was almost comforting, in a sense, to know that this is where she would be spending the next few weeks, months, or even years.

Provided she didn't screw up, like every other time.

Removing her coat, Selina continued to observe her surroundings, as Holly quickly departed to the kitchen.

"You have got to tell me everything! I wanna know it all. Boys, jobs, friends... everything. But first, you want something to eat? Drink? I've got plenty right now. At least, enough to hold us over until the streets are clear enough to go grocery shopping..."

Selina seemed lost in a trance, as she looking at everything around her. There were trinkets, flowers, decorations, pictures of friends and family... everything that Selina had never experienced, but so deseperately wanted in a home. It seemed like Holly had been living her dream, and... maybe with a little luck, that lifestyle could rub off on her.

"Selina?"

Selina looked back, escaping the trance. "Hmm? Oh, no. No, I'm fine. Thank you."

Holly grinned in response, before diving back into the refrigerator to grab something for herself. Grabbing all of her bags, Selina moved them into the living room, just next to the front entrance. As she propped them up on the couch, a half folded newspaper on the table caught her eye. On the front of it was a man, obviously badly bruised, just under the headline: "MARONI CASE REOPENED: Police Evade Questions Of Involvement By The Mysterious Batman."

Curiously, she stared at the story for a moment, just as Holly re-entered the room with a bowl of ice cream.

"If you've got a sweet tooth, girl, you're gonna love living here. I swear, I'd go into withdrawl without at least something like this."

Holly looked up, a spoon already in her mouth, as Selina continued looking at the headline. Again, Holly had to call out her name.

"Selina?"

Selina looked up again.

"You feeling alright? You seem like you're a little spacey..."

Selina urged herself into a smile. "Oh, no. No, I'm doing fine, Holly. Really. Everything's perfect. It's just... this is all so new to me. I've never really had a home like this."

Holly's smile faded, a little, as she became serious... almost sympathetic."You've really had it rough, huh?"

Selina looked away.

"I... I mean..."

With a sigh, her head lowered.

"God, yes. And you don't know how much it means to me for you to do this."

"Do what?"

"Treat me like a person, not an object."

Selina turned back around, with tears forming in her eyes.

"I've just always felt like I'm always such a burden that nobody would care to take me in, but you... you..."

Immediately, Holly put the bowl down, and came over to embrace Selina in another hug. This time, Selina didn't hesitate to hug back, as the tears streamed down. She really felt embarrassed for breaking down like this... but in some ways, it had been a long time coming.

"Don't even think about it, Selina..."

They parted, but Holly kept her hands on Selina's shoulders, giving her a much warmer smile.

"Everyone deserves some love, once in awhile. And right now, I couldn't think of a better roomie than you."

Selina smiled back, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Same here, sister..."

"Same here."

It was midnight, and all of the lights were turned out in the apartment. Selina sat silently in her room, on her new bed, contemplating things for the first time in a very long time. Holly had long since gone to sleep, but she felt like she couldn't do the same. Not with this... new life ahead of her. It felt so liberating to think that many of her troubles had been erased with this, but at the same time, Selina couldn't help but feel as if a huge weight remained on her shoulder.

Looking over at her backpack, which layed just below the dresser on the floor, Selina cautiously got up and walked towards the object. Grabbing it, she unzipped it's top, and let the contents within fall out onto the bed sheets. Infront of her eyes sat an almost symbolic display of a life she desperately wanted to avoid, but knew would come back to haunt her eventually. Some makeshift grappling hooks, some lockpicks, a couple of wire cutters, and other objects hidden inside the pouches of a military style belt. Next to it, lied a dark outfit of a shirt, pants, hat, boots, and gloves... all of which she had to hide from the police when she was caught.

With a heavy sigh, she dropped the bag, and fell atop the items, wanting to just forget they ever existed. They were the tools of a cat-burglar, and the perfect aide for a theif. But thievery wasn't a life she wanted. She just wanted to be normal, for the first time in her life. And maybe this was her chance.

Again, if she didn't screw it up first.
 
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Harvey Dent closed his eyes, walking through the darkness towards warehouse entrance infront of him. He had instructed the Joker's goons to go back to their master for the remainder of the evening. Because as much as there was for him to do before his plan would take full effect... the final, closing act of the night was to be all too personal. Up until this point, it had never been about him. It was about justice, order... democracy, in a city that had never seen it. And the best way to defeat the evils within a city was to defeat it using the most vile it had to offer. Mr. Freeze and Poison Ivy had sent enough of a panic throughout downtown. The Joker's raid on Gotham Central Station, and the news of his subsequential escape, only added to this slew of chaos. And even now, as the battle for the Police to take control of Blackgate Prison was raging on, many were sure that the streets would no longer be safe in the months to come. Prisoners were rioting. Many were leaving town, perhaps for good. The Mayor was being placed into protective custody, his dark secret exposed to those who would most likely take him down. And Batman, the city's one hope for salvation, was more than likely being ripped apart by it's most vicious criminals... if not physically, than spiritually.

For the evil side of Harvey that manifested itself as Two-Face, this was what order really meant. In the purest form... order in it's starkly opposite definition, turned upon itself like the flip of a silver dollar coin. As far as everyone in Gotham City was concerned, if all went according to plan, there was no room for any hope for the city's rescue. No man in a cape or cowl would swing down to pluck them from the vengeful hand of chaos. This was the grim reality that every man, woman, and child would have to face head-on. Tonight was the night that Gotham City had been taught a lesson, with Two-Face acting as a grand instructor to the masses; Namely, their version of order was a thing of the past. There was only order by his definition, now.

Even with that overshadowing concept blanketing the city like a dark cloud, Two-Face's part for the evening had been accomplished. But like everything with the man who was once the voice of the people, turned vile criminal, nothing could be condoned nor accomplished in a singular fashion. The duality of Harveys nature would not step back, even for the sake of chaotic order. So while Harvey had helped Two-Face conquer the weak minded fools that dwelled within the city's walls, it was time for Two-Face to help Harvey conquer a personal vendetta that had unleashed them in the first place. Before Two-Face corrupted the District Attorney, he had it all. A loving wife, a successful career, the respect of those he wished to be respected by. In Harvey Dent's world, nothing had been gray. It was all black and white.

That changed, the day Gilda died.

As Harvey began to target the Maroni gang's connections to the city's underground drug ring and weapons racket, he had been clearly forewarned that he'd be digging into the wrong territory. Even Gilda, usually optimistic and supportive, would constantly express worry that Harvey was going too far in his never ending quest to rid Gotham of corruption. But the naive, arrogant, even heroic District Attorney let all worry brush past him, as he relentlessly made Maroni's life as a criminal come to a slowing crawl. Countless arrests followed, including Maroni's own kids, until Dent had finally managed to get to the top guy himself with a sting operation that captured all the evidence needed to put Maroni away for life. Salvatore Maroni was indicted on February 11th, the second month of the year, ready to face trial for murder and extortion two days later. He was released on February 12th, after strict negotiations with high-paid lawyers. Furious, Dent naturally thought he was going back to square one. But Maroni wasn't satisfied, and more importantly, neither was his family. They wanted Dent to permanently back off. And through a series of events involving the bribery of Dent's assistant, Vernon Fields, a carefully placed set of explosives, and a detonation set off by Pina and Umberto Maroni themselves, they both achieved their wish... and got more than they bargained for.

Dent awoke a coma in a Gotham City hospital bed on February 24th, treated for severe burns on the left side of his face and a concussion that affected that same side of his brain. His wife, Gilda, hadn't survived the force of the explosion and perished not far from where Harvey's face was set ablaze. The news of his wife's demise, combined with the shock of his now distorted appearance, sent Harvey upon a murderous rampage that included his doctors, their nurses, and several people that crossed his path during his escape. Though many later blamed these murders on his schitzophrenia that had been unleashed, but not created, by the concussion's damage to his mind... they couldn't have been more wrong. Harvey Dent was the man that knew fully well what he was doing in those short, dangerous hours that defined Dent's life for the rest of time. The victims were taken by rage and guilt, not by pre-defined bouts of insanity. Two-Face was born by the flip of a coin... but tragically enough, Harvey Dent's inner demons had been lurking much, much longer.

And now, as he finally entered the warehouse, they were never more present in the forefront of Dent's psyche than in this moment. He would extract his revenge and finish what he started the night that he was able to kill Vernon Fields. A small victory in a slew of acts that would propel Two-Face's horrific criminal career. All of which led up to tonight. By Two-Face's hands, Gilda Dent's death would not be in vain... and neither would the death of Harvey Dent.

"Good evening.", He coldly greeted, entering the brightness of the strobing lights above. "I hope you're both feeling very uncomfortable, right about now."

Infront of him sat two seats, each sitting far apart, but both facing the other. In one chair lied a bound and gagged Umberto Maroni, the initiator and heir to the recent crimes of the Maroni mafia family. In the other sat his sister, Pina Maroni, the operations manager at all of the late Sal Maroni's importing buisnesses, secretly using them to smuggle international drugs and weapons. Both of which would be sold, in turn, by Umberto. Two-Face could barely ignore the irony of it all... two siblings. Both of which were twins. Both using eachother for their own purposes. One a glorified criminal, the other discreet, making them opposites. And both as equally responsible for the death of Gilda Dent as the other. It seemed everything about these poor excuses for human beings was in two's. It wasn't a wonder that Harvey's mind gravitated to such a bizzaire obsession, after they mutilated him...

Two-Face stepped forward, clouding his hideous features in darkness, before reappearing in a light in the middle of the room, just between the two Maroni siblings. Both were trying desperately to speak, but neither could. Harvey looked towards one, flatly, before looking towards the other. He wanted both of them to see their own handiwork... and to savor the strange moment of peace, before the madness began. Without another moment wasted, Harvey cleared his throat, and began.

"I'm sure both of you are wondering why you're here tonight, and let me just start off by saying to you both something that I've come to learn, in these past few hellishs year of my life. Karma is an ugly little concept.", Harvey began, as casually as if he were speaking to a close friend or relative. "Your father, Salvatore Maroni, learned this lesson the hard way at the hands of some nutjob in a green pair of tights. That was his experience of karma. For all of the years he tormented Gotham's citizens... for all of the times he escaped the grip of the law, and made his way back to his little penthouse to cheat on his wife and spend all the money he never once deserved. Your father was a piece of scum. And I guess it's true what they say..."

Two-Face turned towards Umberto, who was struggling out of his binds more violently than his sister. "The son becomes the father..."

"...while the daughter is daddy's little girl.", Harvey finished, in his own voice, as Pina lowered her head in sadness.

Harvey looked towards the ceiling of the warehouse, contemplative... almost having a tear in his eye, as the thought of Gilda numbed itself against his thoughts.

"Tell me. Do either of you miss you dear old man?"

Neither could respond, due to the gags. But regardless of this fact, Harvey instantly became enraged when no attempt was even made to respond. Gritting his teeth together for a long moment in silence, he looked down, the scarred half of his face nearly bursting out of it's own skin in his unlimited anger.

"ANSWER ME, GODDAMN YOU! ANSWER ME NOW!"

Rushing over to Pina first, Harvey viciously slapped her, before ripping away the tape over her mouth. Gasping for air, she didn't have time to reply as Harvey slammed his face into hers. "Do you?"

Without an answer, Harvey turned, revealing the scarred half of his face to Umberto, as he rushed over to him in the same rush of violence. With a hard punch across his hostage's jaw, Harvey ripped away his tape aswell, before asking the same question from the bowels of a heavily damaged vocal chord. "Do you?!"

"You're a sick freak!", Umberto shouted back. "A sick #%^@ing freak, you hear me?! My sister didn' do nothin' to deserve this! Nothin'!"

Two-Face violently punched him again, drawing blood this time. "SHUT UP, YOU PIECE OF UNFILTERING SLIME! YOUR KIND DOESN'T GET TO TALK! NOT TONIGHT! NOT ON JUDGEMENT DAY!"

Umberto immediately quieted, as he pathetically began to tear up in fright. Two-Face turned around, viciously walking back towards the center of the room. Taking a moment to calm himself, Two-Face reached into his pocket, and produced his coin. Letting it shine off the line for a second, sending a spark in Dent's eye and a muted reflection in Two-Face's, he flipped it, letting it fall back into his palm. It landed up heads, though he didn't particularly care about it's prediction for the moment. He knew exactly what he was doing. He just needed to be sure that he was still in control... that Two-Face wasn't hogging the moment he had long-since desired.

"On either side of this building, you'll notice a stack of opened crates aligning the walls.", Harvey calmly proceeded. "Each of these crates are filled with your life's work. Drugs, weapons, money... evil. The kind of things that have sent Gotham City into a forcefasted wasteland of corruption and murder. Each crime committed in this city is inspired by a thread. The bottom of which are the common thugs, the rapists... the simple crooks, looking to make it in for themselves. And at the top lie people like you, who profit from much grander scaled assaults on the decent citizens of this god foresaken mudhole."

Harvey looked to Pina. "Well, that old pattern of things is getting a bit tiring. So I decided, long ago, when I chose a path for myself that many have since taken..."

"The path of the outcasted unbiased," Two-Face continued in the same breath, looking towards Umberto. "That I would be replacing the holders of that end of the thread. While criminals like Carmine Falcone and your father had their day in the limelight, their day is long since over. Gotham has eaten them like rabid dogs, and like any sense of decency in this city, they have faded away into obscurity, leaving only the people riding their coattails to pick up the pieces and take over."

Harvey smiled to himself, looking away from both siblings.

"Well, today, I take the preverbial hammer to those shattered pieces. As Harvey Dent, I wanted nothing more than to wipe out the mob. As Two-Face, I wanted nothing more than to be the mob. Now, my sweet marraige of compromise takes shape... starting with the two of you. Because you see, at the end of this evening, when the sun comes up and shines upon Gotham... her citizens awake to a world without you. Without the mob. Without their little world of customary respect to those who don't deserve. Because this isn't just a battle for Gotham anymore,"

With a flip of his coin, Two-Face's hand caught it, this time.

"It's a war. And we've just won."

"You're outta your goddamn mind!", Umberto cried out. "You think killin' us is gonna stop the way things work?! There'll be more!"

Harvey calmly raised an eyebrow. "Didn't I tell you to shut the hell up?"

Slowly walking over, Harvey drifted through darkness, allowing his voice to be the only barrier between him and the sniveling little cretin strapped to a chair infront of him.

"Didn't..."

"I..."

"Tell..."

"You..."

"To..."

"Be QUIET?!"

Two-Face looked down upon Umberto, upon entering the light. The son of the brave, legendary mobster Salvatore 'The Boss' Maroni was already being reduced to nothing more than a weakling. For that, Two-Face decided it wasn't worth hitting him again. Instead, he simply flipped his coin, let it land onto the ground, and watched as it spun.

"Oh, you really don't get it, do you?", Dent asked him in an almost sardonic manner. "You've seen what I've done to Gotham tonight, yes? You've seen the way everyone from the Commisioner, to the Mayor, even down to Batman have been so desperate to stop me, yet utterly failed? Imagine every night like this. Entire months of me and psychopaths like The Joker, just striking away at Gotham's fragile sense of order until it finally snaps like a toothpick. And all on the order that we be delivered the mob, one by one. You honestly think those cowards that live among us won't oblige, just to save themselves?"

Two-Face leaned in. "Well?"

Umberto stared back, wide-eyed, unable to speak. Two-Face snarled, turning around.

"The one time you actually manage to keep quiet. Typical,", Harvey ranted, before approaching Pina. "And you? Can you imagine that reality?"

Pina didn't say anything. She knew what could potentially happen if she did. Instead, to gague her, Harvey grabbed her by the chin, and forced her to look into both halves of his face.

"Speak.", He calmly demanded. "I won't hit you. I promise."

"I... yes. Yes, I can imagine it.", She gravelly admitted. "P-Poppa always said it might come to this. Whenever Batman started showing up..."

"Batman...?"

Two-Face gritted his teeth together.

"BATMAN!?", He screamed, striking Pina across the face once more, before proceeding to do so several times over. "Of course, your punk father would give him the credit! Batman plays the hero! The hero to the villain is the villain! And by that logic, he's somehow responsible for all of us! I'm sick of hearing it! He didn't create us! He didn't make us! HE... DIDN'T... HAVE... THE NERVE!"

Breathing heavily, Harvey towered over Pina Maroni's beaten face, as she cried out in anguish. Adjusting the collar of his coat, Two-Face calmly walked back towards the center of the room.

"Now, where was I?", He mockingly pondered. "The two of you made your lives off of playing games with the Gotham City justice system, particularly the courts. Every time I managed to catch you and put you away, you'd both always sweet talk your way out of it. You always had the audacity to claim to be innocent, kindred spirits. Well, tonight... you're going to be playing a game of mine. It's called 'Double Jeapordy'."

Grabbing his coin as it rolled over to him from the floor, Two-Face let it fly into the air, before catching it again. Showing both sides to both siblings, and making sure they got a good look, he began to further explain what he had in store.

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"One of you is going to watch the other die, just like I had to watch my Gilda burn.", Harvey simply stated. "Heads, Pina watches Umberto die a quick, merciful death. Fitting of her outright discretion. Tails, Umberto watches Pina die a slow, painful, agonizing death. Fitting of his outright arrogance."

"You can't...", Umberto whispered.

"Can't I?", Harvey asked back. "CAN'T I?!"

Two-Face held the coin above his hand. "This little piece of silver is going to decide your fates. Just like it decided mine. Everything is karma."

In the longest moment of his entire life, Harvey Dent tossed the coin high into the air. Both Pina and Umberto nervously looked up at it as it twirled, showing each of their respective sides with every turn. Harvey could only see Gilda's face on either side, as it came to it's arc, and came back down again. Umberto wanted to cry out, and plea. Pina was praying for their lives. Two-Face, however, only closed his eyes... and thought of his dying love, and what could have been done to prevent it.

The coin landed. Two-Face's eyes came upon, looking upon the result, and turned to Pina.

"I told you. It's war."

*BLAM!*

Umberto Maroni fell, lifeless, from his seat in a pool of blood. A bullet hole burned brilliantly between his now-rolling eyes, as his mouth hung open, precluding to his fall onto the cold pavement. Pina screamed out so loudly that she lost her voice, as Two-Face placed his weapon back into his jacket.

"And we've won."

Beginning to walk out, as Pina loudly sobbed, Harvey apologetically looked over to her. "For what it's worth, I really am sorry it had to come to this."

Just as soon as he said that, Two-Face called out behind him as he exited. "But I'm not!"

As Pina looked at her brother in a final farewell, a detonation sequence began in each one of the crates behind them. And in sequence, each exploded, taking the Maroni siblings in a firey blaze.

Harvey Dent was dead. His last will and testament being justice for his departed wife.

Long live Two-Face.
 
MartianManhunter-6.jpg

The people in the streets screamed in terror as the white form rocketed out of the sky and came crashing into a building. The structure came crashing down on top of it, but the beast soon burst free from the pile of debris covering it.

[BLACKOUT]"Is that all you've got"[/BLACKOUT], sneered the Manslayer.

"Hardly", stated J'onn as he charged his counterpart, his arm becoming long and snake-like, and wrapping itself around the Manslayer.

With a quick spin, J'onn launched his foe into a city bus parked a dozen blocks away.

The Martian Manslayer recovered quickly though, and grabbed both halfs of the now destroyed bus and came at J'onn. The Manhunter tried to go intangible, but could not do it in time to avoid being sandwiched between the two bus halves.

A loud smashing sound echoed across the area from the attack, and J'onn fell to the Earth dazed and hurt.

[BLACKOUT]"You green-skinned vermin were always weak"[/BLACKOUT], chuckled the Manslayer as he came at the injured J'onn.
[BLACKOUT]"To think that you're my counterpart of another world"[/BLACKOUT], uttered the Manslayer with disgust as his clawed hands rended the flesh from J'onn's back.

J'onn screamed in pain as the claws sunk deep into his flesh, and the warm feel of blood began to ooze down his back.

The Manhunter quickly spun around, back-handing the Manslayer and sending the White Martian skipping across the ground.
Reaching behind himself, J'onn clutched at his wound as he willed his body to morph and seal it.

It was painful and took a few seconds, but the wound was soon healed. And just in time too as the Manslayer charged J'onn again, grasping him by the head and digging his clawed fingers into his skull.
The Manslayer slammed J'onn into the concrete, causing a shockwave that cracked and tore the asphault all around them.

J'onn shapeshifted quickly, turning into a formless liquid mass that slithered away from the White Martian's grip.

Taking solid form quickly, J'onn rose with an uppercut that sent the Martian Manslayer hurtling into the sky.

J'onn was on him instantly, loosing a barrage of laser vision at his evil counterpart.

The White Martian's skin sizzled as the laser vision burned into his flesh.

The Manslayer roared in outrage and countered with a barrage of his own laser vision.
A blast nailed J'onn dead in his mid-section and threw him off balance long enough for the Manslayer to charge in.

His fists clenched together, the Manslayer slams them down, smashing J'onn right between the shoulder blades.
The Manhunter rockets downward, slamming in the city street.

Civilians flee in panic as J'onn grits his teeth and begins to rise from the center of the large crater.

But before J'onn can even get to a knee, the Manslayer smashs down into him, his heels leading the way like some living missile. The thunderous attack buries J'onn deep into the dirt and rubble, and sends shockwaves resonating through the entire area.

Standing in the center of the bottom of the giant hole was a grinning Martian Manslayer.
J'onn, though, was not in such a jovial mood as the White Martian grinded his clawed foot into his chest.
 
ULTIMATE
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The two aliens ripped into each other, their brutal clash sending shockwaves through the streets. Green Lantern and Superman both watched as the fight ravaged on, as Hal put his ring to work.

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

The Martian Manslayer cackled maniacally as it drove it's foot down on J'onn's chest. The now-destroyed streets were empty, the screams of people running for their very lives now a distant sound. Raising it's clawed hand in the air, the Manslayer prepared for the killing blow.

"Whoop, hold on there, beautiful." Hal's voice called out.

An emerald, mechanical claw dropped into the crater where the two Martians were, and closed around the Martian Manslayer's hand. Pulling the crazed alien up by it's arm, as if it were a toy and Hal the child operating the crane, the claw brought the Manslayer out of the crater, and up to Green Lantern's eye level.

Taking a quick glance at the Manslayer, almost wincing at his nightmarish appearence , Hal looked over to Superman. "Yeah, in the future, I'm just automatically going to go for the one that looks like he eats rainbows and happiness."
 
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As Hal picked the white menace up and out of the crater, Superman quickly flew downward and helped the Martian Manhunter to his feet. "J'onn? Are you alright? Can you walk?" Clark said, having met the Martian before, during the aftermath of the Brainiac invasion. Slinging one of J'onn's arms over his shoulder, Superman flew the other hero out of the crater and touched down on the street. Keeping a cautious eye on Green Lantern and the pale white creature, Superman readied himself to lend Hal a hand if need be.
 
MartianManhunter-6.jpg

"I...I'm fine, Superman", J'onn responded as he cleared his head and regained his footing.
"Thank you."

"I'm sure glad to see you two. Though you both being here as well means that Despero is still loose on our world."

Looking up to the sky, J'onn watches as his twisted counterpart breaks free of the Lantern's construct and charges to attack Hal.

"But first we must deal with these abominations", J'onn stated, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he prepared to fly off to aid the Lantern.
 
Rain spattered across Tommy's head, plastering his hair to his face. He slammed the door to his car shut and brought his jacket up and over his head to provide a little shelter. He saw the entrance to the Brentwood Academy, the only really decent school in the Gotham area. A couple of police officers flanked the door, looking bored out of their minds. One of them was smoking a cigarette, the ember a dot of red in the murky night. Tommy hurried towards them, standing under the slightly jutting entrance hall. He flashed his badge quickly.

"Tom Elliot," he said breifly "Where's the crime scene?"

"Up in the clocktower," the smoker said, gesturing skywards.

"This place has a clocktower?" Tommy said.

"Nah, we're lying to you to waste your oh so valuable time," the smoker said witheringly, raising an eyebrow. Tommy shrugged and made his way into the entrance hall of the school, and followed a sign that apparantly pointed to 'the Tower'. A short while later he came to a tall, imposing wooden tower that jutted out of the Academy. There was a small plaque on the entrance to the stairwell.

DONATED TO THE SCHOOL BY ROBERT WAYNE IN 1913 AFTER IT'S IMPORTANT ROLE IN THE DRAFT RIOTS.

Tommy shrugged and jogged up the stairs. On the third stepped he slipped on something and fell over, cracking his head on a step above. He dipped his hand in the liquid that he had slipped on and brought it to his mouth. He spat violently as he realised it was blood. Screwing his face up in disgust, he made his way up the stairs. The entrance to what Tommy assumed was the room that held the clock face was obscured by yellow police tape. Tommy made his was through it and onto the floor. There was one or two police officers standing around looking with disgust at the body on the floor.

A pale-faced boy, Tommy would guess around seventeen, was tied up to a rickety wooden chair that was drenched in blood. He was stark naked, back facing the door. From his position, Tommy could see hundreds of small cuts all over the victims body. He would guess that cause of death was either shock or traumatic blood loss. He moved around carefully, looking at the body. His belly had been cut right open, not a small cut like the others, but a huge gash. Where the internal organs should have been, there was nothing. Except, he noted to his horror, what looked like half a kidney. He fought the urge to vomit.

"We found this," one of the officers whispered, holding up the page from a calendar. Tomorrow's date was circled in red. Tommy looked at the face of the victim, eyes wide in shock, a look of horror on his face.

"Jesus wept," he gasped "It's going to happen again,"
 
The pain was unbearable. He staggered out of the taxi, and made his way towards the building that his office was in. He pushed his way through the double doors, walked straight past security and into his private elevator. He pressed the button that took him up to his office, then fell back against the wall. His wounds from falling out of Blackgate had been worse than he thought. His stomach was bleeding, and he could taste blood in his mouth. None of that could be good. The doors pinged open, and he made his way into the atium in front of his office.

"Jenna, get out the smelling salts, I'm about to lose it," he muttered, heading towards the big oak doors.

"My name isn't Jenna," his assitant said.

"Do I look like the kind of man who cares?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He pushed his way into his office. There was a man sitting in his chair. This wouldn't end well for him.

"Hey, dickweed, mind explaining what the **** you think you're doing?" he growled. The man looked up at him and waved his hand. Two huge men moved out of the shadows, tommy guns in hand.

"Okay, bad question? Try this one. Who the **** are you?"

"My name is Nikoli Soronovich," the man stated in a thick eastern european accent.

"Still not doing me any favours yet,"

"I am the man who will be running your gangfrom now on. I suggest you leave before I have you killed," Nikoli said bluntly.

"Hey, have you ever heard about how I got like this?" Roman asked "Once I saved souls. Now I damn them. The man I used to be was a devout Christian, the most pious of men. But I died riefly on the operating table after a horrible accident. I expected Heaven, but you know what I found? Nothing. Nada. No God. No Heaven. No afterlife. None of what I had been promised for living my devout, celibate life. Just a void. And that void left a void in my heart. The incident created me - a man without a conscience. I live without any moral compass. I know there is no eternal consequence to my actions. I live for the day, and that is all. I do everything you've ever thought about in your darkest moments. Every whim that I come up with, I cater to. And my whims tend towards the dark end of the sqpectrum. If I want to eat, ****, or kill something, I do it without thought. I spent years embracing the light, a light that was never there. Now, there is only darkness,"

Soronovich and his men stared at him.

"Or maybe I'm screwin' with you," he said quietly.

"Or maybe I'm distracting you long enough for my friend with the helicopter to hover behind you and mow you down," he whispered. All three men turned to look out the window. Black Mask bolted for the elevator.

"FYI - I was screwin' with ya!" he shouted as the elevator doors closed. Time to get out of Gotham it seemed. Black Mask was going global.
 
"So back to your question at hand: how do I make your job easier? For starters, this nation's government--as well as a few others I'm keeping off the books--is equipped with all sorts of super-weapons for just this sort of occasion, and all of them are of my design. They'd certainly make things difficult for your little invasion force, and the right one in the right place would wipe that grin off of your face permanently. So if I, say, use my backdoor programs to ensure those weapons fail, you'd be spared some extremely nasty setbacks.

"Furthermore, my Society has integral connections with most of the world's political and military forces. It would be easy to send unaffiliated powers misleading information, sabotage war efforts, incite political in-fighting, thus ensuring tactical failures and governmental collapses. With your opposition falling apart from the inside, it would be extremely easy for you to roll right over them.

"And then, when the sole powers on Earth are you and me...we'll see what's what."

Lex wasn't going to give any ground, but wanted to make sure the deal was as attractive as possible. That way, it would be that much easier to break him when the deal was off.

"So consider it a form of a non-aggression pact. You enslave the superhumans, and I'll be more than happy to kill them if they get out of hand. I'll set the world's armies up just right for you to knock them down. I'm going to make conquering the world that much easier for you, because it spares me the trouble of doing it myself."

The War-suit's heads-up display (which played across his contact lenses) showed that the Binary Fusion Cannon was at full power, ready to fire in case Despero got out of hand. His subconscious wanted to just fry the monster right now and be done with it, but Lex kept a clear head. He wasn't about to hand over the reins of humanity to a purple ogre, but it would make the Society's long-term goals infinitely easier.

"So that's my offer. This conquest can be a walk in the park for you, or a living hell. It all depends on how you want to play the game."

IC:
desperobannerpic.jpg

How thorough this human before Despero was able to lay out such a plan in such a short matter of time, was most definitely most pleasing. The only problem is, without being able to read his mind how much of what this human says is the truth? He had spent some time studying the human race, but only enough to fit his plans. He could not read this human's body language and how, even before Despero's mighty presence, he remained calm and confident the entire time.

"I believe I will take the third option: a mix of the two. A walk in the park would be most soothing and simple...but not nearly as fun. Plus, there is always the question as to just how honest are you being with me? These are your own people we are discussing the future for...yet you seem to have no regret for personally being responsible for their demise."

Despero waits for any sort of response; anything at all. And what he gets? Nothing.

"You lack any remorse for knowing that this meeting could very well determine whether or not your own fellow countrymen live or die. You would need a good deal amount of time to put forth your mass production of psionic disruptors. And given how long I have been walking among you, I doubt you've got more than 10 concept designs, one including the one you are wearing, which proves to be executing your first field test quite well. Do you wish for me to continue?"

Smiling through his teeth at Luthor has their still seems to be any sort of resent in the human's eyes, Despero leans forward.

"Very well. We will do it your way, but with this minor change. I will put your country in a state of panic in but a few moments. In doing so, if what you tell me is true, your countrymen will no doubt in some form turn to you. You will put the humans of your government in a state of ease after I have set this into motion."

This change of plans that Despero was starting to see as a hindrance has just made everything that much sweeter. Despero sought to crush the human spirit with his invasion by making it look as though their very heroes have turned against them...and now this human has created a way to make that crushing feeling so much more potent. The humans will arm theirselves, plan for Despero's attack, and as they find their own weapons ineffective, will lose all hope. Then, as they look to the skies, and see their heroes and saviours they will instead see villains and tormentors.

With the enslavement of the United States, Despero will move his invasion outward. With the strongest country of the world under his control, the rest will crumble before his feet. And then...Despero's truest desires will be in his grasp. He will wreak revenge on his own people once he has advanced Earth's technologies for space warfare. And if this Lex Luthor indeed has technology that could pose as a threat to his invasion...perhaps there would be a much better purpose to not kill him after all; at least not until way after his dominance of this planet.

Within the flash of an instant, Despero teleports away, leaving Luthor behind. He reappears just outside of Earth's atmosphere. He closes his eyes, his third one remaining open as it glows intensely. In but a few minutes, he has mentally locked onto every american household family, every politican and law enforcement worker...everyone. He smiles as his broadcast starts.

Hello, citizens of a fragile and weak world. Hello, my future serfs...my future vassals, my...future slaves. He Who is Mighty speaks to you all, and you will give me your undivided attention. Enjoy what little time you have on this green and blue, soon to be desolate, world of yours. For, come tomorrow, a new will will run your nation and soon the entire world. For, come tomorrow, the skies will fall with fire, the seas will boil, and everything that is green on your world will turn to a black dust. Tomorrow...your White House shall be replaced with a stronghold fitting for your new master. Tomorrow...Despero is hailed sovereign.
 
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ex Luthor


Luthor watched the alien vanish in another self-indulgent display of power, then headed towards the door.

"Best of luck, Despero. I'm going to enjoy watching you fail."

With that, Lex stepped into the service elevator, taking him to his penthouse office.

Mr. Luthor, L-Soft's voice chimed into his earpiece, Despero has just transmitted a message on all major broadcast frequencies. Do you wish to watch it?

"Not really, L-Soft. I doubt he's got much of anything worth saying, anyway. I just needed a better look at him to reinforce what I'd already thought--he's an oaf with delusions that exceed his actual power. Superman will make quick work of him when he gets back. In the meanwhile, I want you to ensure that Wildfire is still underway."

Forgive me for asking, but isn't the Wildfire contingency a bit redundant at this point? We could simply let Despero--

Luthor slammed his fist against the elevator wall, the enhanced Warsuit putting a sizeable dent in it.

"I will NOT let my goals be subverted by ALIEN VERMIN!!! Despero's only going to get to put on his little show long enough for me to distribute larger disruptor field generators--ones that will blot out whole cities from his power. And if Superman's not back at that point to take him down, then I'll do it myself. That would be three aliens I've put down by the end of Wildfire."

Understood, Mr. Luthor. I simply believe you are letting your emotions get the better of your judgment.

"Don't ever question my judgment. I am Lex Luthor--I know exactly what's going on. This is all part of a larger plan. Another pompous invader from space changes nothing. He'll be long dead before my plans are even halfway completed."

The elevator opened, and L-Soft sent a bulletin to maintenance to fix the dented panel. Lex stepped into his office, and began prying off the cybernetic armor.

"I'm going to make a call to the Pentagon and see which one of my super-weapons they'd like to have self-destruct on them first. And if I'm going to face Despero in person again, I'm going to need another power suit-- I think Armani this time."

It will be done, Mr. Luthor.

Lex slumped onto one of the plush leather couches in his main room, staring into his reflection in the mirrored surface of the coffee table.

Alien vermin, he repeated in his head. It won't be long before every one of them is exterminated. They'll have to be--after all, there's only enough room on this planet for one ruler.
 
Senator Ross stood in the shadows of the room as Luthor strolled into his office and came to rest behind his desk.
Luthor did not notice the man at all, which is what Ross had hoped. He was too focused on his quest for domination and the new alien threat.

Ross smirked.

Alien threat.

"Well", spoke Ross as he glided forward from the shadows, his black business suit seemingly comprised of the very stuff that hid him from sight.

"That was definitely an interesting meeting. This Despero certainly is an arrogant creature."
 
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ex Luthor


Senator Ross stood in the shadows of the room as Luthor strolled into his office and came to rest behind his desk.
Luthor did not notice the man at all, which is what Ross had hoped. He was too focused on his quest for domination and the new alien threat.

Ross smirked.

Alien threat.

"Well", spoke Ross as he glided forward from the shadows, his black business suit seemingly comprised of the very stuff that hid him from sight.

"That was definitely an interesting meeting. This Despero certainly is an arrogant creature."

Lex was certainly surprised by Senator Ross' intrusion, but had the self-control not to jump at it.

"Pete, I thought you'd be in one of the shelters by now. Nonetheless, I'm glad you're here," he said, rising from the sofa to stand at eye level with his running mate. Normally he'd offer a drink or a smoke or something along those lines to play the gracious host, but there was no need for illusions with Ross.

"It seems no matter where I turn these days, I'm confronted by another freak from outer space. If it's not Superman undermining my goals to help my people, it's Brainiac turning them all into robots. Now this Despero character thinks he can give a few pompous speeches and assume he's in charge."

While he was doing his best to keep his composure, Lex couldn't stop his fists from shaking. The very idea of that monster upstaging him was an insult.

"I formed the Society under the pretense that the human race would never bow down to an outside force. No gods, no devils, and damned sure no aliens. Despero is a fool, one that can be stripped of his power and destroyed. But the question that stays my hand now is not if I should strike, but when."

Luthor had been comparing strategies ever since the alien arrived. Striking quickly and at the height of his own popularity and power would remove Despero as a competitor, but the idea of an aristocratic playboy suddenly seizing power in a super-powered coup would fuel resentment and eventual insurrection in the years to come.

On the other hand, setting Despero up as a puppet ruler and overthrowing him at the head of a guts-and-glory rebellion would make him a legend for centuries to come, but at the expense of nearly all of his own power.

Sometimes, even the most finely-tuned mind simply needed another brain with which to bounce ideas back and forth. And Ross was a keen thinker himself, no stranger to power struggles in the world of politics. Lex naturally suspected him of knowing more than he put on, but then, that was what made him a Senator.

"So, Pete, let's talk battle plans."
 
"Certainly, Lex", replied the Senator.
Luthor was doing good to keep his composure, but Ross knew that he was frustrated.
And he had every right to be, given the situation.

"What did you have in mind?"
 
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Gordon drives slowly down Gotham's dark and dimly lit streets. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly, his palms slightly sweating in nervousness. It's been a long night. And from the looks of things, it doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon.

Trying to keep his mind focused, Gordon tries to think about his objective. Comissioner Loeb's kidnapping. What does he remember? Gun shots. Violence. A man. A killer. A maniac. But who? For some reason, Gordon has forgotten. But what eats him alive is that he knows who. If he could only remember who-

Suddenly, as Gordon tries to think harder, his mind drifts to his wife. Barbara. She's home right now. Alone. With his children. Barbara, his wife. The woman he loved. The woman...the woman he betrayed.

"Dammit." He says, stopping short at the red light. He hits the wheel in frustration. He lets out a heavy sigh as he vents, tapping the wheel slowly as he tries to stay composed. "Oh Barbara," he says shaking his head. "How could I have betrayed you. Betrayed us."

His mind moves to Maggie. Maggie Sawyer, his partner and lover. He sees her face, her beautiful smile as a still picture in his mind. Inside, he's conflicted. A battle rages inside him between what he wants and what he knows is right.

Suddenly, amidst the battle, a thought pops into his head. Where is she? Where is Maggie? Is she safe? Is she out? Gordon soon begins to question himself. Should he call her? And what about Barbara? Should he call home and tell his wife where he is?

The questions flood his mind, and soon, Gordon's frustration quickly turn to aggravation. He becomes flustered, upset. What should he do? What could he do? So many problems right now. So little power and time to fix them. "What should I do?" He asks himself. "WHAT?"

"Gordon?" A voice comes in over his radio. Jim jumps in his seat, caught off guard by the call in. Gordon gets his bearings and activates the receiver on his radio.

"Captain Gordon here." He says in a slightly composed voice.

"Sir, we found something." The man says.

"Well, don't keep me waiting!" Gordon shouts, his patience wearing thin. "Tell me."

"Sir, we found out Loeb's kidnapper." He says in a solemn voice. "It's who we thought. It was the Joker."

"How do you know?" Gordon asks, his mind still clouded and foggy.

"The cards, sir. He left a deck of cards in one of the cells." Suddenly, it all comes back. Gordon remembers the shoot out. The fight. The blow to the head. He remembers the murderer's voice, his shrill and blood curtilling laugh. Gordon frowns in disgust, his rage soon reaching a boiling point inside him. "Sir," the man says, breaking Gordon's thoughts once more. "Sir, there's more."

"What," Gordon asks, wiping his forehead. "What is it?"

"Sir, we found blood in the cell." He says in a stern voice. "It's minimal, but, it was enough." The man takes a pause, letting in a deep breath. "Gordon, it's Loeb's. At this point...I'd fear the worst."

"Don't, rookie." Gordon states in a surprisingly confident voice. "I'll find her. Alive." Gordon drops the radio and cuts off the receiver. He grips the wheel hard, curling his fingers around the torn leather. His foot presses the gas pedal hard, and Gordon speeds down the street. He flips on the lights and sirens gracefully with his finger, moving without thought, only on instinct.

"Gordon out." He says in a determined tone. "I won't let these freaks kill out city. God as my witness, it will not happen."
 
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The killer continues to grin, even as a slope of own blood runs down his bottom lip. The smile still doesn't fade, even as I pin him against a stone wall, holding him steady until I can come to my senses. The grim reality of my own moral situation becomes clear, in those small moments of lingering sanity. There's no denying it... I just about lost control, in my own hatred for this man's thirst for murder. And I haven't come that close to destroying the line I set for myself since Talia's death. I swore I would not take a life. I swore I wouldn't kill.

But the question is, what really sets me off? Their insanity, or my own guilt in allowing them to reign free? Whatever it is, it triggered a monster within me to lash out at the criminals I dedicated myself to taking down, not destroying. And that is a side of me I'll have to face, one day. But not tonight. Not when Gotham needs me the most.

"Ungh..", He finally grunts, pulling me back from mid-thought. "Looks like I was right about you, long ears. When it comes to the zombies that need set free, and the agents that carry out their salvation, we're equals. We're the same."

I stare into his eyes, the eyes of death, and show him that by all accounts, when I should be... that I'm not afraid.

"You're wrong,", I simply argue. "We never were. We never will be."

The release on his neck loosens, as I allow him to fall to the ground. He grunts in pain, just allowing himself to bleed on the floor. He didn't tell me what I wanted to know, but there's plenty of time for an interrogation when Blackgate is rebuilt. I'd worry about the blood, but paramedics should be here for the guards soon enough. Even with the severity of his injuries, I'm confident that he'll survive. Spitting a bit of my own blood from my mouth, I wipe it, turn, and depart into the next corridor. The last time I was aware of, Black Mask was in this room. Have to see if he's...

-Gone. Damn it.

I'm greeted with an empty cellblock coated with even more bloodstains. It seems Black Mask managed to escape during my struggle with the killer. A bit unsurprising, but still a disappointment... another psychotic on Gotham's streets isn't what I need, right now. But regardless, I doubt this is my last chance to capture him. There will be other days, other battles, regardless of what further madness Two-Face has in store.

Need to get out of here myself. The police will be here soon, and I've done all I can. Pushing it any further would not only give Alfred more work to do on my wounds, but rid him of a body to repair in the first place. Despite my failures, I can at least go home knowing that there were victories within them. Not that I'll stop punishing myself for the former, but...

I turn, halfway surprised by a grunt behind me. On the floor lies that woman... the one in the mask and cape, who tried to kill Black Mask earlier. She's unconcious, and bruised enough to explain why. I rush over to the body, immediately checking for a pulse. It's steady and strong, abiet imperfect. But she's fine. Or at least, she will be, long enough for the police to arrest her. I should unmask her, at the very least...

I reach up and grab the mask, but can't go through with it. I should, all things considered, but it doesn't feel justified. Even if she is a would-be murderer, she saved my life from that stray gunshot. And given her attire, it seems like my influence over her choice in vigilance is clear enough to warrant a thanks... even if this was, by no means, what I wanted to accomplish in acting as a symbol for the citizens of Gotham.

Simply tying her hands together with a line, I prop her onto a nearby wall, and leave her for the police. I can tell that Captain Gordon's going to have questions for me, naturally, but he'll have to understand. I'm not looking for a partner. Least of all, one that uses a crossbow, of all things, in order to achieve justice...

"Oh, Batmaaan..."

Subsequently, my teeth grit together as my fists tighten, hearing a familiar voice. And sure enough, my fears are confirmed with a simple head turn. Behind me stands Johnathan Crane, still dizzied and beaten from his takedown earlier. But even so, he exhaustingly wants to continue the fight he already pitifully lost. I wish I could say I've fought enemies that have learned from their mistakes, but Crane seems to be proving such a theory false...

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"Did you truly believe you and I were FINISHED?!"

He raises his arm, ready to spray more of that toxin into the air. I grab it, twist, and squeeze, hearing a shatter underneath his sleeve. His eyes widen in fear, as I grab him firmly by the shirt, and pull him to me. It's time the 'master of fear' learned just how tired I am of him and his pathetic games...

"Let me get something through to you... I have neither the time or the patience for another one of your rants about turning Gotham's citizens into sniveling cowards. You've tried it, I've stopped it, and it's getting very annoying. So if you really want to experience a lifetime's worth of misery in the span of a few minutes,", I growl, staring him down until he's replenished into little more than the mindframe of a child. "I suggest you keep talking."

I throw him to the ground, turn, and calmly walk towards the exit, left only to feeling of the gnawing pain from previous injuries. But not once, during my trek, does Crane say a word. A small, pained smile comes to my lips. Even with the pain, the guilt, and suffering that's sure to come for the coming nights after this evening... I'll admit, that felt good.

"Alfred, can you read me?"

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Thirty minutes later, and I'm standing atop a tower not far from Blackgate Island. The prisoners weren't at all hard for the police to subdue... they had all been scared by me, and another event that occured when I was inside. Interrogation from one of the prisoners told me that a helicopter appeared during the fight, and dropped a corpse into the courtyard. The corpse was wearing a clown mask. It didn't take long for me to decipher it's message that The Joker had somehow been involved with tonight. He's been in Gotham Central for the past month, where I hoped he would stay, but it seems my luck hasn't remained entirely intact this evening...

"Just barely, Master Bruce.", He responds. "And might I just say, at the risk of an impromptu termination... I don't particularly appreciate being hung up on."

"I'm aware. And I'll apologize when I feel up to it. I wasn't entirely in the right frame of mind,", I explain. "Have you been checking the media for updates on the attacks?"

"Every few minutes, per your specifications. It seems that Mister Dent himself hasn't made a move yet, but he's had plenty of help. Doctor Fries and Miss Isley have been transported to Arkham, but they're saying that The Joker's attacked the police station. There were a few casualties..."

My breath shortens, hanging on his last bit of news. Jim...

"What casualties? How many?"

"Very few, thank heavens. And you'll be relieved to know that none of them were Captain Gordon."

Thank god.

"I'll be more relieved when The Joker's back in custody...", I murmur. "What about Rachel? Is she alright?"

"Miss Dawes is fine. She called just a bit ago, wondering if you planned on making it back to the Manor. In a way, I was beginning to wonder that myself."

I look out, staring at Gotham's nearby skyscrapers. It's still in one piece, but the damage is clear, even from this high up. If only I had done more. If only I could have done more, despite what I want to fool myself into believing otherwise.

"I did as much as I could. That's all that matters."

"Indeed. But if you plan on attempting another vigilante escapade before the evening's up, be advised that you'll have very little time. The sunrise is just upon us."

"No, Alfred. I'm finished for tonight.", I assure him. "But I'll need a favor."

"As one would have predicted. I just hope you're not speaking of negotiating the price of the bloody electrical bill, again."

"I need to you bring me another set of clothes, my security clearance the Wayne Foundation's center, and any first-aid kits you can find. I'm not coming home."

"Sir?"

With a sigh, I pull back my cowl, letting the wind hit my face for the first time in hours. "Batman's done all that he can, but Bruce Wayne still has a long way to go. And if Gotham's going to move on from this, it's going to take alot of money and resources. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll arrive within the hour. Just do try and remain discreet."

"If there's one thing I know how accomplish, Alfred, it's that.", I reply, pulling the cowl back on. "And... thank you. I know I don't say it enough, but..."

"Quite unnessecary, Master Bruce. And so you know, I'm quite relieved to know you're alright. Just ...do try and stay that way long enough for me to choose a tie."

I smirk to myself, and shut off the communicator. Without Alfred, I'm not sure I could have made it this far. But regardless of the fact, the war still rages on. Two-Face, The Joker, and many others are still loose, committing unspeakable things for the sake of making things even worse for the city. I'll have to do everything I can to find them tonight. But in the meantime, there's someone I can ask to keep things under control until I can do that...

Pressing the communicator again, I dial in the number, and wait for the line to pick up. In seconds, I hear a voice, while preparing my own...

"This is Gordon."

"Jim. It's me. We need to talk."
 

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