The "Why So Serious? Gotham City Noir" RPG

[Byrd Man]

My momentum carries me forward, but The Joker leans out of my path. As I fall to the ground, The Joker regains his center of gravity and takes aim again.

I can only hope that Batman has time to respond.​

I quickly grab Joker's wrist and twist it. It makes a pop and the gun falls limply from his wrist and to the floor.

"You picked the wrong place, Clown."

I use my free hand to grab him by the throat and toss him through the air, he falls on the floor and slides into the snack table.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Oswald hangs up his phone and is visably angered.

His body Louis asks, "What was that about?"

Oswald replies, "That my good man was a phone call informing me that thanks to our new homeland security policies my shipment from Europe is being quarantened for the next week in Gotham Harbor. When I am supposed to have those guns to our contacts in Dallas & Los Angeles within the next 72 hours."

He lights a cigarette and says, "I can get the guns from our contacts in Mexico at a significant mark-up there's no problem with that, however these homeland policies are proving to be most trouble for a man in my position."

Oswald takes a long drag and says, "Contact our man in the narrows see what he can do about stirring up some trouble near the harbor where our guns are being kept. Once the guards are distracted see to it the shipment is destroyed. We'll write off the guns as loss this time. I will then contact our source at homeland and see what she can do about getting some of these restrictons lifted."

Louis nods and leaves as Oswald places his call to his contact in Mexico.

 

[Eddie Brock]

I quickly grab Joker's wrist and twist it. It makes a pop and the gun falls limply from his wrist and to the floor.

"You picked the wrong place, Clown."

I use my free hand to grab him by the throat and toss him through the air, he falls on the floor and slides into the snack table.

The Joker licks his lips as he gets to his feet. "I see it in your eyes."

He begins to circle the room - much like a boxer who's testing his opponent.

"Your rage, your madness..."

The Joker cracks his knuckles before drawing another knife.

"By the end of tonight, you're going to break your one rule."

The Joker, of course, refers to Batman's strict code of using nonlethal force. The Joker doesn't want to die - but if he pushes Batman to the edge, he has won.

 

[Byrd Man]

I throw another shuriken, knocking the knife from Joker's hands. It falls to the floor with a clatter, and that's when I make my move.

I sweep through the darkness and manage to engage him in a fight. He's already got another knife pulled by the time I swing the first punch.

His knife scrapes against my armored gauntlet, causing sparks to light up the darkness and bask the two of us in a momentary light.

"This ends now!"

I dip low as he swings the knife in a large arc, I kick my leg out in an effort to trip him up.

 

[Eddie Brock]

I throw another shuriken, knocking the knife from Joker's hands. It falls to the floor with a clatter, and that's when I make my move.

I sweep through the darkness and manage to engage him in a fight. He's already got another knife pulled by the time I swing the first punch.

His knife scrapes against my armored gauntlet, causing sparks to light up the darkness and bask the two of us in a momentary light.

"This ends now!"

I dip low as he swings the knife in a large arc, I kick my leg out in an effort to trip him up.

"How do you figure, Batman?" The Joker calls out after collapsing on the ground. He's clearly not interested in the fight itself. Instead, he's entertaining himself by fighting Batman mentally.

"Your legal system is so flawed that I can manipulate it quite easily!" The Joker squeals in delight. It's true. The insanity plea is The Joker's cop-out. And Arkham is so easy to break out of.

"You know this!" The Joker insists gleefully. "And that is why there is only one possible solution to stop me!"

The Joker simply smiles. He doesn't have to say what that solution is. Both of them know it in their hearts.

"So if you want to 'end' it tonight, GO AHEAD! You'll be no better than me! HAHAHA!"

 

[Byrd Man]

"How do you figure, Batman?" The Joker calls out after collapsing on the ground. He's clearly not interested in the fight itself. Instead, he's entertaining himself by fighting Batman mentally.

"Your legal system is so flawed that I can manipulate it quite easily!" The Joker squeals in delight. It's true. The insanity plea is The Joker's cop-out. And Arkham is so easy to break out of.

"You know this!" The Joker insists gleefully. "And that is why there is only one possible solution to stop me!"

The Joker simply smiles. He doesn't have to say what that solution is. Both of them know it in their hearts.

"So if you want to 'end' it tonight, GO AHEAD! You'll be no better than me! HAHAHA!"

I growl as I push myself on top of him.

"Sit down!"

I drive my fist into his face, Joker's crimson blood splatters against my body armor and clashes with the black.

"You're going back to Arkham, where you belong."

I chop him in the throat, Joker gasps and wheezes as his air supply is cut off by my hand.

 

[Eddie Brock]

I growl as I push myself on top of him.

"Sit down!"

I drive my fist into his face, Joker's crimson blood splatters against my body armor and clashes with the black.

"You're going back to Arkham, where you belong."

I chop him in the throat, Joker gasps and wheezes as his air supply is cut off by my hand.

After a few seconds of coughing up blood, The Joker's choking is replaced by laughter. Pure, unadulterated laughter.

"Arkham?!" he repeats incredulously. "Now that's a laugh!"

Both The Joker and Batman - deep down - know how a stint at Arkham will end. Unfortunately, for Batman, it's the lesser of two evils.

"Tell me, they couldn't hold me longer than a WEEK in there last time. What makes you so confident that they will fare any better this time around?" The Joker asks seriously - a hint of playfulness still resonating naturally in his tone and inflection.

"It will become a dreadfully boring cycle. I break out of Arkham, I kill people. You come after me, you put me back into Arkham. Lather, rinse, repeat!"

The Joker doesn't even bother to try to break free of Batman's hold. For him, it was never about the actual fighting anyway.

"We can only keep this pattern going so long before there's no one left to kill!"

 

[Byrd Man]

After a few seconds of coughing up blood, The Joker's choking is replaced by laughter. Pure, unadulterated laughter.

"Arkham?!" he repeats incredulously. "Now that's a laugh!"

Both The Joker and Batman - deep down - know how a stint at Arkham will end. Unfortunately, for Batman, it's the lesser of two evils.

"Tell me, they couldn't hold me longer than a WEEK in there last time. What makes you so confident that they will fare any better this time around?" The Joker asks seriously - a hint of playfulness still resonating naturally in his tone and inflection.

"It will become a dreadfully boring cycle. I break out of Arkham, I kill people. You come after me, you put me back into Arkham. Lather, rinse, repeat!"

The Joker doesn't even bother to try to break free of Batman's hold. For him, it was never about the actual fighting anyway.

"We can only keep this pattern going so long before there's no one left to kill!"

I can feel the rage in my start to build up. It's at it's breaking point, I have to do something.

WHAM!

I head-butt Joker hard, his head flys back and he goes limp. I pray that he's unconscious.

I hear some people start to gasp. The fight was so quick and quiet in the darkness of the manor, few people know what happened.

I slip through the darkness and make my way back towards the exit. I should be back in the study in a few minutes time.

"Manor over-ride, Lights on."

The lights flick back on, now chaos truly begins as people see the dead bodies, and the unconscious Joker lying on the floor.

I slip away into the darkness and towards the old well...

 

[Eddie Brock]

I hate flying. The whole concept of holing yourself up in a giant hunk of metal - and then launching yourself into the sky - doesn't appeal to me. So, needless to say, I'm a little more than restless during my flight from Metropolis to Gotham. But I suppose this is merely an occupational 'hazard,' if you will. Lois doesn't appear to be bothered.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" the flight attendant asks. I don't hear her at first. I'm too busy peering out the window as the clouds race by. My heartbeat rises slightly. "Sir?"

Suddenly, I realize that I'm being talked to. I spin around swiftly to see Lois and the flight attendant staring at me. My face starts to turn red. "I'll, uh...I'll just take some water," I explain while breaking eye contact.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't hear that," the flight attendant responds patiently. I can tell, however, that she's becoming irritated. I don't blame her - she has an undesirable job.

"Nevermind," I reply after clearing my throat. I don't want to cause her any more trouble. I think I've done enough for now.

***

A couple hours into the flight, I decide that I have to go to the bathroom. I wish it wasn't so, but there's no fighting this kind of thing. I just realize that going to the bathroom on an airplane is a whole big fiasco. Again, just another reason for me to despise airplanes.

"Lois?" I ask sheepishly while tapping her on the shoulder. She looks at me. "Can I get up?"

"Sure thing, Smallville."

I try my best to squeeze out carefully, but - as luck would have it - I accidentally bump into Lois and knock her water all over her lap. My eyes shot open so wide that I felt like my head was going to explode. I can't believe I just did that - with Lois, of all people.

Lois is completely silent with her mouth open. That almost hurts just as much as being yelled at. I wince instinctively as the rest of the plane turns to get a look at the commotion.

"Lois...I am so sorry!" I stammer embarrassedly. What else can I possibly say? I'm just waiting for Lois to explode on me. And - let's face it - I fully deserve it. But Lois says and does nothing. After a few moments of waiting for the eruption, I finally back away slowly and stumble over to the bathroom in the back of the plane.

Locking the door tightly, I turn to face myself in the mirror.

Clark, you are the BIGGEST idiot in the world.
​

 

[Cyrusbales]

[?]THE RIDDLER[?]


“Good morning, or is it afternoon? I guess you don’t know eh? ‘Tis rather dark here.”

Joely’s eyes felt heavier and wearier than the last time she remembered opening them. She had no way of telling how long she’d been there, but the growling in her stomach tended to suggest too long, then again, in this situation, any time was too long.

“Please, just let me go, and they might go easy on you.”

“Go easy on me? Bargaining would not seem to be something you of all people could do in your present state.”

“Just tell me what you want!”

“I want you to go home safely. I want to believe that there are some people who still have an ounce of grey matter behind the their dulled eyes these days.”

Was he insane? Or perhaps just living in his own little world, either prospect didn’t bode well for the young female detective.

“And how is keeping me prisoner going to make that happen?”

“Ah, for you see, this building is set for demolition, in roughly twenty or so hours, where you sit will be nothing more than a pile of rubble. However, should your partner manage to locate you in time, then your life will be saved. It all depends on how clever he is really.”

It was a game, a cruel challenge against authority, and Joely was nothing more than an inconsequential piece within this puzzle.”

“However, you can also free yourself, but not without challenge. Locked around your chest is a device which carries enough electrical charge to kill you fifty times over. Using the same technologies as criminal tracking bracelets, it’s triggered to go off should you leave the immediate vicinity of your location. You’ve got about ten feet in all directions I’d say.”

“Look, what has this got to do with anything? I’m not going to play these games!”

“Then you’ll die, by your own stupidity!”

Giving up on resisting, Joely knew she had to play his game.

“What do I have to do to spare myself?”

“Now that would be telling…”

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

Rigger hurriedly sped across town in a stolen pickup. He’d been given a task to do, and the outcome of failure would be certain death. Soon the detective Del Arrazio would catch up to him, and then the game would really begin…

 

[Harlekin]

“A man that doesn't spend time with his family can never be a real man.”
~ The Godfather (1972)

“Can’t you just do this for me, Jack?” Detective Del Arrazio asks over the telephone. “Yes, this is very important to me… Damn it Jack, does this everything have a price with you?... I’ll do it, yes, I promise… Thanks, Jack.” Vincent Del Arrazio places the phone back onto the receiver.
“Who was that?” Del Arrazio’s partner, Josephine “Josie Mac” MacDonald, asks as she walks into the break room.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Well, excuse me for breathing,” she responds as she rolls her eyes.

“Yo Del Arrazio, they’ve got a bead on Rigger!” Azeveda suddenly yells from across the room.

Del Arrazio and MacDonald exchange looks.

“Let’s move!”

* * *​

“What you’ve got, Ger?”
“He’s barrelling down Kane and Finger right now,” Lt. Gerald Hennely replies. As he speaks, a dozen televisions show a variety of camera footage. Near Hennely, a computer keeps check of Rigger’s movements by tracking the police cars that are now following the criminal demolition expert.
“I’ve got the team at the ready,” Hennely continues as he points to the map on the computer. “I’ve got a sharpshooter sitting on the corner of Finger and O’Neil. A road block is forming here.” Hennely points to another corner. “Just say the word, Sergeant.”
“Any chance of civilians getting in the way?”

Hennely just looks at Del Arrazio in response.

“Do it.”

* * *​

“Do it,” Hennely’s voice crackles over the radio.
“Done, Lieutenant.”

The stolen pick-up races through the street, two police cars in pursuit. As they near the corner, they slow down, but Rigger keeps on at his speed. When the shot rings through the air, time seems to slow. The right front tire of the car blows out, it starts to skid and turn. On the corner, it heads right into a lantern. Time returns to its regular speed as the car’s alarms start blaring and Joe Rigger’s face makes contact with the steering wheel’s airbag.

Slowly, the car’s door opens, and with a large gash in his forehead, Joe Rigger stumbles out of the car. The Quick Response Team is on him in seconds, holding him at gun-point. Grudgingly, he stops, raising his hands. He mumbles a few words, inaudible to the officers surrounding him. The officers approach him cautiously, one taking point.

The officer unwittingly comes too close, Rigger’s immense hands shooting out suddenly to grab the officer by the neck. Before the others can respond, the officer’s been disarmed and Rigger has taken control of his weapon. With his hand firmly around his hostage’s neck, Rigger points the gun at the other officers.

“Move, and he dies,” he says gruffly. “Get me Del Arrazio.”

* * *​

“He wants you,” Hennely says as the report comes in over the radio.
“It’s a trap, Sarge, it’s got to be,” Josie Mac points out. “You can’t just hand yourself over.”
“I’ve got to, Mac. I’ve got no choice.”

* * *​

Detective Del Arrazio slowly approaches Rigger and his hostage.

“Don’t do it, sir,” one of the officers offers, but Del Arrazio keeps walking.
“I’m here, Rigger, talk to me, let the guy go.”

Rigger just grins.

 

[Eddie Brock]

On the next day, the GCPD feel like they've won. The Joker is on a transport headed for Arkham Asylum once again. The madman has been contained.

Or so they thought.

"Julian Day," The Joker announces as he looks at the man seated across from him.

"How do you know my name?" the so-called 'Calendar Man' asks.

The Joker smiles naturally. There's no evil in this particular smile. In fact, were it not from the Clown Prince of Crime, this smile might look somewhat cordial. "You'd be surprised at what I know, Mr. Day," The Joker explains ominously.

Indeed, it does stir up a disturbing train of thought in the Calendar Man's head. He attempts to push it aside, but he knows the kind of man that is seated across from him.

"Do you know what today is significant?"

The Calendar Man is silent - waiting for an explanation.

"Today is the day that you will cheat death and help me escape," The Joker continues. As the Calendar Man ponders on this message, The Joker leaps across the van and wraps his handcuffs around Julian's throat. The Calendar Man gasps for help.

"Stop the van!" the Arkham guard yells from the passenger seat. The driver slams the brakes, and the van halts immediately. The guards get out and race around the back of the truck. Thrusting the doors open, they aim their guns at The Joker. "Put him down!"

"You want me to put him down?"

The guards look at each other before nodding.

"OK!"

The Joker pushes Julian forward - using his body to knock down the guards. As the guards struggle to get up, The Joker makes a break for it. His lanky legs contribute to his surprising speed. By the time the guards regain their composure, The Joker is almost out of sight.

The continue the search, but they are unable to locate the Clown Prince of Crime. Once again, The Joker has eluded the hands of justice.
​

 

[Byrd Man]

​

"Keep it steady, Mister Wayne." Lucius Fox instructs over the headset. I'm flying high above Wayne Enterprise's proving grounds just outside of Gotham. The craft I'm flying is the prototype jet codnamed "Whisper" It was suppose to be the ultimate in spy technology, but the goverment didn't feel like paying twenty million. More for me then.

"Am I clear to land?"

"Go ahead, Mister Wayne."

Ever since taking over as head of the board, Lucius Fox has been looking to find his predecessor in the Applied Science division. Harold Allnut is that man. Harold has a doctorate in electronics and computer technology. He' also the sterotypical bookish genius. Glasses, bowtie, even a pocket protector.

"Nice and easy..."

I click on the jet's vertical boosters and it starts to descend towards the earth. It's as quiet as it's namesake as it comes to a rest on the ground next to Harold and Lucius. They approach the jet's cockpit as it opens and I step out. I notice Lucius' face for the first time, He has scratches on it from last night's riot at the manor. I think about all those dead and how worse it would have been had my darker persona not showed up.

"So what do you think, Mister Wayne?"

I tap the steel frame and smile.

"I'll take it..."
​

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

​

I brood in the darkness while I look over Gotham. Sometime this evening, The Joker broke out of custody and is on the loose again. Maybe he was right, maybe the only way for the madness to end is to take his life....

No.

There has to be a line that seperates us, if I take his life then he's truly won. I only pause to leap from the ledge and glide towards the streets.

The night is young. There's a killer on the loose. And I have work to do.​

 

[Eddie Brock]

The Joker's remaining men wait anxiously in the hideout. Last night, their leader was defeated. Tonight, he has escaped. They expect him to return any minute now.

Sure enough, the front door of the hideout swings open. The men can clearly see the silhouette of The Joker standing in the doorway. In one hand he holds a book - in the other, he holds an oversized pistol.

"Webster's Dictionary defines 'liability' as: 1. the quality or state of being liable."

The Joker then unexpected opens fire on the goon to his immediate right. The man falls instantly after a shot to the head.

"2. something for which one is liable."

The Joker then kills the next man in line.

"3. one that acts as a disadvantage."

The Joker kills a third man. Suddenly, the remaining men realize what's going on. They huddle in fear as the psychopath shuts the dictionary and trains his pistol again.

"Boss?"

The Joker sighs. "I've found that you gentlemen are DREADFULLY useless. From now on, The J-Man flies solo."

The Joker places the barrel of his gun on the temple of the henchman who spoke. With one swift pull of the trigger, the man's brains are splattered on the wall.

"But...we've been loyal!" another pleads.

"That you have," The Joker concedes, "But there is too much ORDER in that. This chain of command stands in stark contrast with my endgame scenario."

With a handful of bullets, The Joker wastes his remaining crew.

"Chaos."

 

[Eddie Brock]

Once Lois and I land in Gotham, we hail a taxi and head for our hotel. Lois is a little disgruntled after my conduct on the plane, and - frankly - I don't blame her. But that's just Clark being Clark.

"So, what's the gameplan, Lois?" I ask eagerly while grabbing our suitcases. Lois somehow manages to walk away with one bag. Meanwhile, I am forced to fumble with the remaining luggage. I don't mind, though.

Lois scoffs. "The gameplan? The gameplan is to have you not mess this up for me," Lois explains condescendingly. I don't take any offense by it. Lois has an abrasive personality that doesn't sit well with those who don't know her. I actually think it's pretty admirable. Lois doesn't take any bull from anyone.

When we get to the receptionist's desk, Lois explains that we're from the Daily Planet. The receptionist types away at the computer before frowning. "I'm sorry, but I don't see your reservation," she explains apologetically.

"What?!"

Before Lois gets out of hand, I intercede. "Miss, we need somewhere to stay tonight. So if you have any openings..."

The receptionist nods and goes back to her computer. After a few moments of searching, she reports, "I have a room. It's only one bedroom, though."

Lois has a look that can only be described as befuddled.

"Is there a couch or a cot?" I ask. Lois appears to be lost for words - for once.

"No couch, but we could bring a cot to your room," she explains.

I smile. "We'll take it."

After receiving the key, Lois and I head for the elevator. "It's a good thing you can get a cot. Otherwise, you'd be sleeping on the floor."

I smirk.

 

[Catman_prb]

1 a.m.
Warren had let himself into the apartment ten minutes earlier. Everything was as it had been when he had entered. He just sat in the armchair, facing the door and waited. And waited. Eventually he was rewarded by the sound of the occupants car pulling up in the dark street below. He heard muffled voices, and then two pairs of footsteps on the stairs of the apartment. The door creaked open.

"We never mention the events of that party again, understand?" said Alberto Falcone, the main target of Warren's hit.
"But Alberto, how come you hid under the table?" said Johnny Viti, his voice slurred by drink.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!?!" Alberto shouted. Then he paused, looking round the room.
"There's someone here Johnny," Alberto said looking round the room. His hand reached out for the light, and Warren shot him in the heart. From such close range, Alberto was blown backwards out of the doorway. Viti screamed, and Warren stood up. He grabbed Johnny Viti by the head, and twisted it round violently breaking the neck.

2 a.m.
Warren stole Faclone's car and drove to the next place he needed to go. This would be harder. He pulled up to a huge manor house, the gates manned by serious men in serious suits. They walked over as Warren wound the window down, one on each side of thecar. One man leaned his head in.

"Why are you here?" he asked, a deep gravelly voice. Warren turned so the moonlight showed his scarred, whitie face. The gangster moved his head back, but Warren pulled a knife from his jacket and stuck it in his neck. He pulled the pistol from his jacket and fired through the window of Alberto's car, hitting the man twice in the chest. He got out of the car, and searched the bodies of the dead men for the keys to the great gates. He found it on the one he had shot, who's body was still twitching. He walked up to the gates and opened them up, before going back to the car.

Warren drove up the long path to Falcone Manor, not paying attention to any of the men who were patrolling the garden. He reached the front door without attracting any attention, and got out, pulling his trenchcoat up around him to hide his face and walked up. There was a man guarding the door, at least twice the size of the men guarding the gate.

"Who're you?" he grunted. Warren ignored him, and walked forwards. The thug grabbed him by the shoulder.
"I said, who're you?" he stated, flexing his muscles. Warren looked at him, jagged teeth set in a grin. He didn't say anything but pulled the pistol out again and shot him in the face. The gorilla fell backwards as his head exploded. Warren casually stepped over his body, blood all over his trenchcoat, and entered Falcone Manor, leaving sticky red footprints as he walked.

He could hear raised voices from what appeared to be the dining hall. Warren walked towards it, his shoes sticking to the floor as he walked. He peaked his head in through the door to see a large meeting of people, with a woman in a feather boa and a cocktail dress at the head of the table.

"But Sofia!" one of the men shouted.
"Silence!" Sofia shrieked. Warren smiled, before entering the room.
"Who the **** are you?" another man asked. Warren stepped into the light.
[blackout]
"I'm the Great White Shark mother ****ers,"
[/blackout] Warren said in his rasping voice. The men started laughing, and Sofia watched him with interest.
"We're gonna need a bigger boat!" one of the men said in hysterics. Warren pulled the tommy gun from underneath his coat and mowed him down in a flurry of bullets. He span around, shooting two other men who were on the other side of the table. Within minutes the members of Sofia Falcone's inner circle were lying in great pools of their own blood. Sofia herself was left standing on her own, blood spattered all over her dress and drops on her face.

Warren walked towards her and she cringed as he grabbed her face and held it close to his own scarred one.
[blackout]"Do you fear me?"[/blackout] he asked her, his hot breath on her cheeks. She nodded slowly.
[blackout]"You should fear me. I could crush your skull in seconds. I own you now. Understand?" [/blackout]he rasped. She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. Warren could almost smell the blood on her flesh. He licked a large spec off her neck with his ice white tongue. She shivered. Warren threw Sofia to the floor.
[blackout]"The Falcones are weak. IYou're all dying, understand? I'm in charge now,"[/blackout] Warren said, standing amidst the pool of blood.

 

[Rain Dog]

The Scarecrow​

"I’m glad you were all able to make it, gentlemen," Crane said to the group of men who stood before him. He had been keeping tabs on the Arkham inmates that had escaped into the Narrows with him and had summoned them to his new hideout. Many of them were run-of-the-mill hitmen and crooks that had been transferred into Arkham at Carmine Falcone’s request, others were legitimately insane. Either way, they would all be useful.

"Whaddaya want, Crane?" said Al Bolinski, a burly hitman who had previously worked for the Falcone family.

"Funding for my...experiments has been running low. I was hoping you’d be able to help me with that."

"What? You want a f***ing loan from us or somethin’?" Al said angrily.

"No, no. I’m requesting your assistance in a...heist, I guess you’d call it," Crane replied calmly as he paced in front of the crowd.

"And what exactly do you plan on doing?" inquired another inmate.

"Empire Bank. Tomorrow at noon. I’ve made all the necessary preparations I just need a crew to pull it off."

"What’s in it for us?" Al asked. He seemed to be showing interest.

"You get two thousand now, we split the money we get into equal shares."

"I thought you said you were broke."

"Not yet. I'm using what I have left to pay you. If you're interested, that is."

"And...you’ve got everything ready? A getaway plan? Guns?"

"Oh, yes. And we’ll only be needing one weapon," Crane said. The men all looked at each other in confusion.

"One weapon?" asked another inmate.

Crane nodded and proceeded to grab two suitcases from his desk. He set them down in front of the criminals and popped them both open. One was filled with what seemed to be ordinary Halloween masks. The inside of these masks were equipped with rebreathers much like Crane’s. The other suitcase was filled with metal canisters.
"Fear."

 

[Green Lantern]

1/17/2008, 12:33 PM, Special Agent Chase's office, FBI Field Office, Gotham City

Agent Chase sat with her head buried in her hands, behind her desk. Before they had gotten a hold of all the Etchison's and gotten them into safe houses, two more members of the family had gone missing. Chase assumed that either Elinore or Arnold Etchison was the Abattoir killer, but had no other leads to go on.

It had been nearly three weeks since the last murder, and the corrupt justice system in Gotham City was not giving her any help. No judge seemed willing to even giver her a search warrant.

"Agent Chase, you have a call coming through line one."

"Who is it?"

"Someone from the district attorney's office."

"Alright," Chase said as she picked up the phone. "Agent Chase, FBI. ... Really? ... Goddamn. ... It's about time."

As Chase hung up, the receptionist looked up. "About time for what?"

"We finally got a search warrant."

 

[Gallagher]

Harvey Dent

Aftermath, Part I
"Hey sleepy head." The sweet almost ethereal voice of Rachel Dawes was music to my ears. I slowly cracked open my eyes, wanting to look upon her sweet face. Light scorched my retinas but I had to push on.

"Been partying a little too hard Harv?" Bruce Wayne was there also.

"Ah leave it out Bruce, he's had a rough night." Jim Gordon too. I was in the hospital I guess. The white walls, white floors and white sheets kinda gave it away. I finally looked upon my visitors and realized there was one more. His back was turned. I was fascinated by this one. Why would he not show his face?

"Hello...?"

No reply. The others simply smiled staring at me with glazed over eyes. They didn't concern me.

"Who are you?" I called out to the mysterious man. Still no reply. There was something wrong, I was drawn to this guest. My anger bubbled beneath the surface. Why would he not look at me?

"HEY!" The still did not move.

"FACE ME!" I screamed. This time he reacted. He turned on me, shouting, screaming, his face a red bloody, bubbling mess.

"ARRGHHHHH!!"

****

"Mr Dent! Jesus! Be careful you'll rip your stitches." I looked around, I was still in the hospital, my bed was wet with sweat, my side saw from the stab wound. A nurse hurried over to me, lifting up my gown and checking the stitching. "It was just a dream. Looked like a real ***** of one too." She reassured me. I sighed to myself, laying back in my hospital bed.

"Just a dream." I repeated. "A nightmare."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

"No, please! LET ME GO!"

I stare at the pusher dangling by his feet with pure disdain. I'm crocuhed on a building's ledge, he's out over the ledge: looking down at the pavement thirty stories below.

"The Joker. His men. Tell me where their safehouse is. NOW!"

I remove a small knife from one of my belt pouches and place the blade on the rope holding him up.

"If I tell, he'll kill me!"

I apply pressure to the rope with my blade. The rope's fibers starts to snap and the unwilling informant starts to descend towards the ground.

"You're dead either way."

"NO!"

I slice the rope in half and he starts to plummet.

"AHHH!!!"

I act quickly, removing my grapnel gun and aiming it at my snitch. The rope wraps around his arm and he stops his freefall.

"NOW TELL ME!!"

"Okay, man! For the love of god. Oh ****, I think I pissed my pants!"

"Talk!"

"Okay!"

He breaks down, his tears run up his face as he stumbles to talk.

"They're in some run down factory on The East End! A run down candy company or something."

I scowl as he tells me the information, I should have known to look there. It fits his modus operandi perfectly.

"Now let me go!"

I use one arm to jerk him out of the air and back onto the rooftop. He quickly scrambles to get up.

"Now, mother****er. It's my turn!"

He reaches into his coat and pulls a pistol as he stands up. By the time he levels his sight at me, I'm gone. Lost into the night.
​

 

[Batman]

The phone rings for the seventh time in the last hour. A tad extreme, I'm aware, but mother of Christ, I'm convinced this is never going to stop.

I don't even take into consideration that the call could be coming from the Mayor, or worse yet, Loeb himself, as I pick up the reciever and slam it back down. Hard. I've practically grown so used to the sound of it's ring that a bomb could go off in the city, and I'd be none the wiser.

Of course, with the way things have been in the last few hours, that wouldn't come as much of a surprise, either. Ever since the fiasco at that Wayne benefit last night, with that freak in clown makeup, the city's gone into a panic. And it's not just the people who were there... it's everyone. I've heard murmurs all over the department all morning. Traffic was lined up worse than usual, on the way to the Adams bridge, just so people could leave the city for good. The news won't stop on the coverage. And worse, it's even hit close to home.

I take off my glasses, and turn around in my chair, rubbing the bridge of my nose. God. My best friend's lying in a hospital bed right now with a twelve inch stab entry wound. Doctors said he'll be fine, but damn it, I should be there. Not sitting here and listening to panicked citizen after panicked citizen tell me how bad of a job I'm doing for letting that Joker creep get away. Sometimes, I see how Loeb can be so uptight about being Commisioner. It just doesn't stop...

Thank god, though, for Batman. And that's something of which I never thought I'd say, until now. Over the past few months, my relationship with him has been... scarce, if anything. He's lining up the bad guys, I'm booking them. Just like it's been ever since he came into the picture. At first, I was a little disturbed by that proposition... of leaving my duty to him, of all people. But after last night, and the lives he prevented from being taken from that maniac? Well, I may just sleep soundly more often.

Not anytime soon, mind you. Not while that killer's still on the streets.

*BZZT**BZZT**BZZT*

I look down at the cellphone clipped to my pocket. My stomach turns. Even my own personal phone can't give me a break. It's a wonder none of this happened when we lived in Chicago...

Placing my glasses back on my face, I sigh, and open it up. Strange device, this thing is. I'll never understand these electronics. But Babs... little Babs, insisted I get one. And it's hard to say no to a face like that. I press a button, and hold the damn thing to my ear. If it's another councilman, I'll have their head sent to my desk...

"Gordon, here.", I respond, already annoyed.

"So you're speaking to me now?"

My eyes widen. The slammed reciever. Barbara. It was Barbara. Mother of...

"...Sorry about that, honey.", I explain, leaning back into my chair. "Guess I've just been having a bad day."

"So it seems. Jim, are you alright?"

I'm silent, for a moment.

"No."

"No?"

I almost don't respond. Just because I know what I'm going to say.

"Should I be?", I ask. "Harvey, my best friend Harvey's sitting in the hospital right now. The man was almost killed, when he's supposed to be the one saving this god forsaken town. Do you realize what would've happened if he did succumb to that attack?"

Staring up at the ceiling, my brow furrows, as I continue.

"Then there's that maniac at the party last night. Everyone's chewing me out about his escape. Me, not Loeb, just because he had the luxury of taking a flight out of the country the minute that all of this crap started up. And it's not just the scared guys either, Barbara. It's the cops. All the people I'm supposed to be a figurehead for, and I let them down."

"Jim, don't..."

"I mean it, Barbara.", I cut off, closing my eyes. "I let them all down..."

"No, you didn't.", Barbara interjects. "Listen to me, James Gordon. I know you're upset over this, but what that maniac did to your friend wasn't your fault. Beating yourself up for something beyond your control is never the kind of man you've been. Why start now?"

She's right, of course. She's always right. That's why I married her... she seems to bring me out of the corners of despair I could never crawl out of myself. But there's no denying it... something's amiss, now. There may be a long road ahead in trying to get things back to normal...

"Because things are different now. Things are changing,", I respond.

"Feels like damn near everything is changing..."

It's pitch black by the time I make it to the roof. Told Detective Allen to take over for me while I was on break. Good kid. He's gonna make it far in this department, if Loeb doesn't prematurely strike him down. But there was nothing else I could do. Nothing I'm doing to try and cope with this disaster of a situation makes sense. Only one thing does, anymore. And it lies within that damn signal.

I turn on the switch, just as the flame hits the end of my cigarette. If anyone can help us out and finally get that clown behind bars, it's him. And that alone almost scares me. But regardless...

Now, I play the waiting game.

But all in all, as I stare up at the skies, expecting something to leap back out at me, I silently wonder if it gets on his nerves, like the calls get on mine...

 

[Eddie Brock]

"Do you see that?" The Joker asks one of his dead henchmen. He has either been too lazy to clear out the bodies - or perhaps he likes the company.

The television screen flashes with images of reporters, Wayne Manor, and The Joker's mugshots.

"I knew the Joker Venom was just the thing I needed to REALLY get this town in a panic!"

He peers over at the dead goon and smiles.

"I guess I owe our friend Doctor Crane, eh?"

The Joker watches the new broadcast silently. Suddenly, the report changes from a story about the horrifying Joker to a story about the mysterious Batman.

The Joker's smile fades as he sees the face of his adversary. Grabbing a gun from the holster of one of his former employees, The Joker fires several shots at the screen.

When the television has been effectively destroyed, The Joker laughs and states aloud, "Well, now how am I supposed to watch my favorite shows?"

And the sound of The Joker's maniacal laughter echoes throughout the warehouse.

 

[Byrd Man]

Now, I play the waiting game.

But all in all, as I stare up at the skies, expecting something to leap back out at me, I silently wonder if it gets on his nerves, like the calls get on mine...

I appear out of the shadows and crouch on the Bat-Signal.

"What?"

My tone is harsher than I hoped for. Lieutenant is my most valuable, actually he's my only source in the Gotham PD. I don't want to anger him and end our arrangement, The Joker's on the loose and we could both be out there searching for him instead of on this rooftop.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Oswald looks over the books at the lounge and for the first time in a long time smiles at his book-keeper Arron Schaffer

He says, "The business venture in Mexico was an unqualified success, and now because of our financial good fortune there we can now look at expanding the club's operations here in Gotham. Contact Mr. Wittington in the main street area and find out if any of the businesses are looking to sell at this time."

Arron leaves as he summons his bodyguard Louis and says, "Go to the main-street district take two other gentlemen with you and see if any of the business owners might be persuaded to sell at this time."

Louis leaves as Oswald again smiles.

 

[Harlekin]

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
~ Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken

There was a city once, it went by the name of Gotham.

Its buildings were grey, muted. Life had been sucked out of Gotham long ago.

Some question it ever had any life at all.

Of course, he never doubted it, not even when the city took his parents.

When Bruce Wayne, socialite son, at the fragile age of eight, became something else entirely.

Became the Batman.

Became a legend.

Many years from now, Gotham will no longer exist. It will be just a faded memory, a piece of décor to be thrown away.

For a brief, shining moment, however, it was there.

They were there.

The good, the bad and everyone in between.

Lieutenant James Gordon, the incorruptible, a beacon for all who adhere to the light.

The Joker, ultimately just a twisted clown, but forever an icon to the most evil of man.

Harvey Dent, a man forever torn between both sides of the coin.

Guardians, law enforcers, crime bosses and rule breakers.

There was Harvey Bullock, will he ever solve the murder of the Gotham Knights football team? District Attorney Rachel Dawes, harassed by Lew Moxon and his gang, will she find justice? Will Vincent Del Arrazio ever be able to rescue his partner, and put the murderous Riddler behind bars? Does Cameron Chase succeed in finding and arresting the Abbatoir killer?

Will Oswald Cobblepot, the man known as the Penguin, ever run Gotham, as he so clearly desires? Is Selina Kyle ever going to make her big score, and maybe string along a Bat along the way? Waylon Jones, the dangerous Killer Croc, will he find peace? Riddle me this, is the Riddler ever going to get caught? Will Jonathan Crane get his revenge on the Batman? Does Alberto Falcone survive the hit on his life and become the capo di tutti capi of Gotham? Or will Mr. White succeed instead?

Questions, questions, and no answers.

But at least we tried.

Thank you.

THE END?