The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII

[Electro UK]

"Well folks, the Batman is dead."

"Again."

Gordon couldn't help smile at Officer Lou's comment which was made as he hesitantly pulled police tape around for what seemed like the millionth time this week. Gordon stood over the body of the Caped Crusader and looked down at him, too tired to show any signs of remorse. His neck was broken, he'd fallen. From up there. The building that towered over the scene was high enough to make Gordon dizzy just thinking about being at the top, where did these nuts find the courage?

"Don't these guys get it?" Gordon asked Lou, turning away from the body.

"Get what, sir?"

"That what they're doing, they're just hurting him, damaging what he stood for and what he accomplished. These Batmen think they can save the world, be the next in line of Gotham's Knights, but all they're doing is giving the Batman a bad name."

"They're not doing that sir, I don't think." Lou, having finished his job, came and stood next to Gordon to comfort him, he was one of the few cops on the force that Jim really felt a connection with. He knew that this guy had one thing over all the others, he understood. "I think... I think that they're testament to the Batman's legend. That even a year after the guy's death, people still want to honour him, want to be him, want to be the symbol of hope, and the saviour of Gotham. Sure, they're not all like that, but I like to think that one day, one of these guys will rise up to be... well you know, the next one or something."

The next Batman? Gordon didn't like the sound of that one bit. There was only one Batman. Final. He turned back to stare into the cold, stiff eyes of the Bat-body, and all he saw was some nut. Heck, he was probably high for all they knew. "Hopefully Lou." Gordon began, "If the Batman did his job right, then hopefully there won't be any need for the next one." he smiled at his friend, who returned the favour.

"The team's here sir, we better give them some space."

Gordon nodded, and gave one final look at those eyes as he turned to leave.

So cold... so stiff... so dead.

"WuhahahahahaHAHAHAHA!"

James fell back, quickly managing to push a foot back to support himself. "Sir!" Lou ran to his side and grabbed him as Gordon aided his head.

"I'm alright." he shoved Lou's help off with his shoulder. "I'm okay, just felt a little..." he felt horrible. "Off for a second." with a cautious eye, Lou escorted Gordon away from the scene, picking up on the Commissioner's haunted expression.

Gordon's mind however, was totally absent from Gotham city now. That laugh. He was focused on just the one thing. That terrifying laugh that plagued his life. The Joker, the plague of Batman's life. Now the burden was on Jim.

 

[Andy C.]

Now that I know what we're up against, the fight to free the people of Almerac is easy. Ultraa's actually proving himself quite capable--for once--since he knows which of the fleet's commanders have been enslaved by the Starro parasites.

"There was a ship," he explained to me in between skirmishes with the enslaved warriors, "an unknown vessel that came in contact with our fleet, and broadcasting a distress signal. I led an expedition team to investigate and see if there were any survivors. We found those...things instead. Once they had gotten a hold of us, it was easy for them to appeal to our...our less admirable qualities, and those of us who were infected staged a coup."

"And anyone who resisted was infected as well."

"Yes. Since I was the first to fall under Starro's control, the parasites designated me as their leader. I was their puppet, and using me, they led us to this planet, to the other alien fleet, to this pointless war. And for what?"

"I don't know, Ultraa," I say, gazing out of the ship's view-port and down onto the planet below. "But we're going to find out."

"We'd better do so quickly," he remarks skeptically, "I don't think the momentary cease-fire with those lizard people is going to hold. I would have to believe their own leaders are suffering a similar fate."

MEANWHILE...

"Shouldn't we help her?" Maxine asks.

"Jay?"

I'm numb for a few seconds. My mind keeps insisting one thing, even though I know it's impossible. Isn't it? "Normally, yes Maxine. But sometimes...sometimes you just need to hang back and see how something plays out. See what your opponent...or your ally, is capable of."

I just stare blankly at the armored person. She wears his symbol, their symbol, upon her chest. But, she can't be...

"Sometimes, that's most definitely true," Micheal says, filling the silence. "Especially when you are new to the fight. Which begs the question-"

"Who are you?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Flash," the masked heroine said regretfully. "Superman would kill me if he found out I was doing this. Right now, you can call me Flamebird. And I know you guys don't like mysteries, but trust me--I'm on your side."

Terra-Man groaned, beginning to stir. Noticing this, Flamebird looked down at the villain's gimmicked six-shooters, and twin beams of scarlet Heat Vision incinerated them.

"Now, do we just stick around and wait for the cops, does anyone know exactly what to do with these guys after we beat them?"

 

[wiegeabo]

"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Flash," the masked heroine said regretfully. "Superman would kill me if he found out I was doing this. Right now, you can call me Flamebird. And I know you guys don't like mysteries, but trust me--I'm on your side."

Terra-Man groaned, beginning to stir. Noticing this, Flamebird looked down at the villain's gimmicked six-shooters, and twin beams of scarlet Heat Vision incinerated them.

"Now, do we just stick around and wait for the cops, does anyone know exactly what to do with these guys after we beat them?"

Her question confuses me. Not the question itself, but the naivete of it. How can it be...? "Um, you can either take them to the police, or wait for them to show up. Usually waiting is better, or your only option because there's another crisis to rush off into."

"We can stay here with you while you explain yourself. Because, honestly, not telling us who you are, and why you're using his symbol, just isn't going to fly with me."

"Jay, if she doesn't want us to know-" Maxine starts. But I raise my hand to stop her.

"So, I'll ask again. Who are you?"

 

[Andy C.]

The plan is simple.

The Almerac fleet is turning away, while a strike force led my Ultraa and myself go for the flagship of the lizard-people's fleet, and attempt to remove the Starro parasite from their leader. There are maybe a half dozen of us, to keep collateral damage and civilian risks at danger. Still, I'm more than a little worried about how a potentially volatile operation like this could turn out. After all, the lizard-people already believe we're their enemies, and now we're about to attack their leaders head-on.

I take point, Ultraa's men flying behind me. The alien fleet looms in front of us, firing off pinpoints of multi-colored light which quickly grow into lethal energy blasts and missiles. Fortunately, I'm a lot more maneuverable on my own than I would be in a ship--and being faster than a speeding bullet doesn't hurt, either. The Almerac warriors fare about as well, though I make a point to destroy any missiles that come too close for comfort.

As we near the flagship, I X-Ray the structure for a good entry point, and cut out a door with my Heat Vision. We pick up speed to make it inside, and once on board, I pull the breached hull shut again and solder it together before it would have resulted in catastrophic structural failure. That's a step in space-faring missions I'd learned the hard way once or twice.

Alarms and klaxons wail, alerting them of our arrival. We're going to have to act fast if we don't want things to get too ugly.

"Stay on your guard," Ultraa warns his men. "The aliens still think we're at war with them."

"Try not to hurt any of them," I add onto that, before making my way down the corridors, trying to judge a safe speed that would get me past the lizard-men guards without also kicking up dangerous winds which could send people flying or muck up the ship's artificial atmosphere. Super-speed inside a spaceship is a little tricky like that.

MEANWHILE...

Her question confuses me. Not the question itself, but the naivete of it. How can it be...? "Um, you can either take them to the police, or wait for them to show up. Usually waiting is better, or your only option because there's another crisis to rush off into."

"We can stay here with you while you explain yourself. Because, honestly, not telling us who you are, and why you're using his symbol, just isn't going to fly with me."

"Jay, if she doesn't want us to know-" Maxine starts. But I raise my hand to stop her.

"So, I'll ask again. Who are you?"

"Well, I'm not another Hank Henshaw, if that's what you're getting at," Flamebird said, taking a more defensive tone as the Flash grilled her.

"Look, I know what happens every time someone else tries to co-opt the symbol. I know what the Eradicator did. I know what the Cyborg did to Coast City. I was there. I've been here the whole time."

One hand moved to a small device on her opposite forearm, pressing a small diode.

"You'll figure it out, Flash, but right now that's all you're getting from me. In the meantime, you think the Fastest Man Alive can catch up with a teleporter?"

The small diode on her forearm flashed, and in an instant, Flamebird had vanished from sight.

 

[wiegeabo]

MEANWHILE...

"Well, I'm not another Hank Henshaw, if that's what you're getting at," Flamebird said, taking a more defensive tone as the Flash grilled her.

"Look, I know what happens every time someone else tries to co-opt the symbol. I know what the Eradicator did. I know what the Cyborg did to Coast City. I was there. I've been here the whole time."

One hand moved to a small device on her opposite forearm, pressing a small diode.

"You'll figure it out, Flash, but right now that's all you're getting from me. In the meantime, you think the Fastest Man Alive can catch up with a teleporter?"

The small diode on her forearm flashed, and in an instant, Flamebird had vanished from sight.

"Wait!" I rush forward, but she's gone an instant before I reach her. It's probably best I didn't grab. There's no guarantee if her teleporter would have taken me as well. It may have only taken a piece of me.

"Jay," Terrific says, "What do we do?"

I think it over for a moment. "You and Maxine stay here until the Police arrive. Let them know what happened. Last thing we need is for them to attack this Flamebird if she is good. But they need to keep tabs on her in case she isn't."

"And we'll obviously be keeping tabs on her too."

"Obviously."

"When we get back to the Brownstone, I'll contact the League. Fill them in on everything."

"Good."

"What about you?"

"Me?...I'm going home."

 

[Byrd Man]

Wally hears the door slam shut, and looks up from his playing children.

"Bart? How're things kid?"

Itd been a quiet couple of weeks in Central City. Wally was fine with that, it gave him time to slow down with his kids.

"Hey, Wally. Hey Iris, Jai."

"Hey Bart!"

"BART!"

Jai nearly knocks me down as he speeds into my body.

"Easy there, buddy."

Jai and Iris speed outside. Leaving just Wally and I.

"Things are going okay." I say as I reach into the fridge and grab about six slices of pizza.

I may not be Kid Flash anymore, but I still have the appetite of a Flash.

"I think I'm making some progress. Micheal, Mr. Teriffic, is helping me out."

I take big bite out of one of the slices in my hand. Wally shoots me a look.

"Sorry, sorry." I say as I swallow the pizza.

"I'll get a plate."

 

[Batman]

Previously...

He calls himself 'Ubu'.

It's a name that should mean nothing. But whenever he looked into my eyes, I felt something inside of me burn with an inexplicable rage. It was as if I knew this man for years, holding a personal grudge that had finally been sustained with his capture. And his gaze tells a story that I can't quite place. Something's wrong with all of this. And he knows what it is, but he isn't telling me. All of this blood he's helped to spill, spitting in the face of these people's freedoms, and he still marches along with a clear arrogance. Grinning at me. Knowing something that I know he doesn't want me to find out.

I've had enough of it.

"Shiva,", I call out, as the last of the horses are packed and mounted. "Lead the prisoners to safety. When you're finished, take the League back to base and wait for my return."

She looks back at the leader, in disgust, as he remains tied to a post on one of the forts his men built here. "Why have we not killed him yet? For what he has done to these people, he deserves to suffer. And his life is worth nothing to us."

I look back, intentionally parting eyes with her. She would be right, in any other circumstance. The League of Shadows spares no mercy for tyrants who wish to harm a living creature. But this tyrant could know something about me that no one else does. And after months of having questions with nothing to answer them, I've got to take this chance.

"A life that's worth nothing could still hold a mind that's valuable.", I argue. "He stays here."

Shiva gives me a look of discontent. But she doesn't question my order. She mounts her horse and rides off, joining the rest of the fleeing captives as they race towards a newer, better life. The sun is setting, just as I turn back to Ubu. Still arrogant. Still looking as if he has something to hide.

I grab my sword, and approach him. "You and I are going to have a little talk."

"Yes,", He replies, narrowing his eyes. "I would suppose we have much to discuss. Don't we, Infidel?"

Grabbing his arms, I slash the rope that binds his hands together, barely missing his wrists. Then I grab him by the neck, holding the blade close to his cheek. He doesn't even flinch.

So I cut him, just to make him do so. He grits his teeth in anguish, as I place the blade on the opposite side. "Let me make one thing clear to you. Once I've gotten what I need, you're not leaving these villages alive."

He licks the blood from his cheek and smiles. "Neither of us will."

I look down upon him with a cold stare. But to his genuine surprise, I don't keep the expression for long. A grim smile has soon replaced my hours' worth of anguish and strive to dethrone his empire. Not because he amuses me in the slightest, but because he has no idea what's about to happen. I can see it in his eyes. Every moment we spend atop this mass of burning sand, he believes himself to be safe. Protected. Kept within his own natural element, for as long as he's kept this village under his law. He sees me at a disadvantage.

His eyes deceive him.

"Jumalan äiti! JUMALAN AITI!"

'Mother of God'. It's all he can scream, as he's tossed through a solid wooden door. His only landing is provided through a table, successfully splintering it in half with the structure of his spine. His blood stains my hands, as I kick the remains of the door open and loiter over his pathetic, weakened body.

"I wouldn't squirm like that.", I warn, jamming the blade of my sword into the wall. "You've been cut in four places. One of them bleeds faster than any doctor alive could stop. Not that we're anywhere near medical help..."

Even in pain, through the blood that nearly chokes his every word, he can smile. "Y-You would... not let me die."

I sneer. "You seem so sure of that."

"I-I have known it!", He assures me. "It is not within your... your nature. A creature such as you can give pain, but... but never take life. It is why you are unworthy. It is why... why I should be The Demon's Head!"

My fists clench together. He says that I can't kill, but he doesn't feel the rage that flows within my veins. That impossible anger, just poisoning me. Laughing at me. Echoing his sentiments, telling me I don't have the nerve to do what I was trained to do. I took an oath, and swore to uphold the codes of The League of Assassins. I gave them my word that I would strike down those who would swear allegiance to the evils of this world. Even if it meant to cast them out of this world forever.

So why haven't I?

"You know it too. I can... I can tell!"

I walk over, grab him, and lift him from the ruins of his land. He screams out, as his wounds are opened even wider than before, scratching along the jagged edges of the table. "You don't know a thing about me."

His blood continues to pour out of his skin. I can feel his heartbeat fading.

But knowing that doesn't effect me. He should be left to die, left to suffer, for what his conduct did to these people. Months, perhaps even years of slavery and imprisonment inflicted upon a village already ravaged by poverty. And for nothing. Nothing but his own selfish woes, his own beliefs that what was taken away from him was unjustified. Ra's Al Ghul would have gladly slayed him already.

"Wait!", He weakly pleads. "Your memories. I... I can restore them if you save me!"

In that instant, I almost let him go. But something grabs me, and tells me I shouldn't. That inner, darker desire that's overwhelmed me thus far.

So I don't. Instead, I let the blood continue to drip. He's slowly beginning to die. "Some things are worth more than memories."

"No! There is nothing!"

"Nothing except vengeance."

He begins to worry. And I savor every moment of it.

I've finally got him scared.

 

[trustyside-kick]

IC:

So I've rolled with some of the best there is out there. Robin? Superboy? Wondergirl? Impulse? Err...now Kid Flash? Heck, I was there before Stargirl became part of the JSA! Young Justice...those were the days.

"What? Okay, fine...maybe I wasn't a full-time member? But I helped them out a few times. Defeated a few villains for them...fine, as a team. But the fact remains? I had a part in the success and glory."

And that's why I know they'll have my back. I mean, they just got to! There is NO way that Aquaman did the stuff everybody is accusing him of. NO possible way! So I'll just turn to what few friends I have on the Surface World, who I know got my back. Maybe with their help we can turn this whole thing around.

Last I recall...they treat guests real well. We'll sit down in the big 'ol table and get down to business...and save Aquaman's neck! Who knows, maybe this time I'll even get my own room. A nice view overlooking the ocean maybe...with surround sound speakers hooked up to a monster size television!

Hmm...I wonder what the Creature from the Black Lagoon would sound like with that sick of a system. And in Blu-Ray? The picture would be sweet! Some would argue that 3-D is "THE thing" right now, but if you ask me a dude in a costume and make-up looks way more scary. 3-D animation just takes so much away from the feeling really. Cause when you see something detailed in CGI? Not nearly the same as a carefully crafted realistic monster suit! Course, don't tell Blubber that. He'll give you an hour speech as to why modern tech is so awesome even though I don't disagree: I just prefer not doing everything CGI...

Well, I'm all set to meet up with the Titans. Er...cannot really say I'm ready to meet up when they don't know I'm coming. But I'm sure they won't mind. They pass me with smiles and a welcome just before we get down to business I'm sure.

This buddy of mine, he doesn't think it is a good idea. Thinks this is just too big for me to handle. Which is precisely why I didn't tell Blubber and Sheeva about my little adventure. I didn't want to hear a lecture about how I should leave it for Aquaman to do on his own...but he needs me! And here is another friend, basically telling me what I expected to hear from Blubber and Sheeva. I've known this particular friend since he was just a baby. I watched his back, and he watched mine.

"What do you mean? If Aqualad was a founding member of the Teen Titans? No doubt they got a swimming pool for me to chill in. Maybe that will be my room while we try to straighten this whole thing out with Aquaman."

Aw man, I hate it when they get all emotional and weepy.

"Listen...I'll probably be chilling at Titan's Tower for just a few days. You'll see. With their help, Aquaman will be out of harms way with the U.S. Government, and all will be well. You have nothing to worry about."

I mean, it should be alright....right? So what if the waters of Atlanteans are on lock-down and heavy survailance until this whole thing is resolved...I can slip past un-noticed. I can blend in easily with the help of a few fishy friends and make it look as though nothing but a school of fish swimming past those submarines' radar.

"I have to go now...tell you what. I'll see you later tonight! But I gotta go while the coast is clear."

"Bye Spotty!"

 

[wiegeabo]

"Wait!" I rush forward, but she's gone an instant before I reach her. It's probably best I didn't grab. There's no guarantee if her teleporter would have taken me as well. It may have only taken a piece of me.

"Jay," Terrific says, "What do we do?"

I think it over for a moment. "You and Maxine stay here until the Police arrive. Let them know what happened. Last thing we need is for them to attack this Flamebird if she is good. But they need to keep tabs on her in case she isn't."

"And we'll obviously be keeping tabs on her too."

"Obviously."

"When we get back to the Brownstone, I'll contact the League. Fill them in on everything."

"Good."

"What about you?"

"Me?...I'm going home."

I know I surprised Micheal, just leaving like that. But Flamebird got to me. I thought I was starting to get over what happened. Yet, Superman leaving and the arrival of this new 'hero' has stirred them all up again.

So I ran home, hoping to get away from it all for a little while, and get my thoughts together. Maybe talk with Joan. She always know how to make me feel better. Of course, after all this time together, she would.

And, of course, I run home too fast. Joan's not back from volunteering at the hospital. I sigh. I don't feel like sitting around the house. I also don't feel like running around Keystone looking for a fight. Especially since I already did that. My stomach rumbles. I don't have much of an appetite, but that doesn't mean much to a speedsters metabolism.

So I'm suddenly stuck with an idea. I'm not the only one with a speedsters metabolism. And it has been a while since I've spent some time with the kids.

Before my front door finishes closing, I'm already at Wally's door knocking with a stack of pizzas in my hands...

 

[Catman_prb]

When he freed himself from the chains that had confined him for the longest time, he beat the demon half to death. He would've finished the job, but he was too weak. So he tied the monster that looked like Batman with chains and staggered to the great oak door. He heaved on the door and it started to creak open slowly.

About time. I thought you'd be stuck in limbo forever.
Where the hell have you been?
Waiting.
Thanks for the support.
A pleasure, dear sir.

He staggered out into a long stone corridor and collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily, his heart pounding. He was split up from the Titans in a place that you couldn't leave. He couldn't think of a way out.

"How do I get out of here?" he whispered.

"By Divine Intervention, For You Were Never Meant To Be In This Place," a voice answered. Tim raised his head, but quickly shielded his eyes from a bright white glow.

"Wha-" the young Titan began.

"I Am The Angel Zauriel, And I Shall Raise You From Perdition,"

There were many times during his short career as a costumed superhero that Tim had felt like giving up. The second worst of these was as he had walked along what tha angel had referred to as the Pits of Hell, pulling his friends and team-mates from the fiery clutches of the demons that were torturing them. It was only the assurance that they would not remember what had happened once they returned that kept them moving.

It seemed like an age had passed before Zauriel led the rag-tag group into Neron's lair. And there it was Zach that was being tortured by the demon. The angel walked towards him.

"Let Them Go," he commanded.

"You have no rule here. They are mine to do with as I wish,"

"I Have Been Sent To Collect Them,"

"Two of them have dealed. They are mine,"

"The Lord Of Hosts Thinks Otherwise,"

Neron paused.

"They have dealed," he hissed "That cannot be ignored,"

"Then Return Them To How They Were Before,"

Neron growled.

"Do You Risk War?" Zauriel asked softly.

The demon hissed, and moved away in disgust.

"You May Go," he said, looking over them impassively. And then they were gone.

 

[Batman]

"Nice work there, 'Batman'. You know, you fight just like him. If not for the fact I saw his body last year, I'd almost start to believe you're the genuine article."

"Be quiet."

Nightwing was about to respond, but when he got a look at Batman's cold glare, the young vigilante hesitated. Not because he was particularly afraid of what he considered to be an impostor, but because the glare that he had given was uncannily similar to the ones the real Dark Knight would give for disobedience. It was a childhood memory locked within Nightwing's mind that Batman had taken full advantage of.

And it worked. I don't have the time for distractions.

But the small moment of victory over the former Boy Wonder's chatter was short lived, as more thugs began rounding the corners of the docking crates. Each one seeming to carry a different weapon after the next. Before Nightwing could even blink, Batman charged forward and leaped into the air, the shadow of his cape basking each thug in the silhouette's shadow. The once fearless criminals were now looking up in terror, as their aggressor went to work.

The first one lunged at him with a metal staff. He was perhaps the easiest, making himself an open target and a living weapon, as Batman firmly grabbed the staff, twisted it, and slammed it's edge into the thug's face. Ripping it from his grasp, Batman then took the staff itself, twirled it, and hit another oncoming thug in the gut, before rounding out the attack with a spin strike, hitting the thug across the face in opposite directions. The criminal fell to the ground, out cold, as Batman threw the staff into another criminal's hands, as if giving him the weapon. But the confusion of the act seemed to generate a sufficient pause, because before the thug could think to attack with it, Batman was on him with a hard right hook, sending the thug off of his feet and crashing into a crate.

Unsheathing two objects from his utility belt, Batman tapped them, watching as they unfolded into two large, handheld weapons with blades on each end, similar to Batarangs. But instead of throwing them, The Caped Crusader clasped one in each hand, before he looked upon the remaining criminals, who were almost waiting for him to finish. They wanted the fight. And they were going to get it.

"Don't keep me waiting,", He finally growled, with a slight hint of thrill behind his menacing barritone. "I've got all night."

"You've got all night..."

Batman turned, surprised, as a mysterious voice boomed out from the darkness.

"But they don't."

The figure stepped forth, revealing himself to be covered in black, save for the crimson glow his helmet. Realizing he didn't have time to ask questions, Batman lunged for the figure, but he was quick to open fire upon the entire area. Spinning in a dodge, Batman barely avoided a hail of bullets as they struck his would-be attackers, instantly taking them out.

By the time Batman landed, there was no one left but him, Nightwing... and The Vigilante.

"Bit'o bad luck, those guys ran into. How much you wanna bet that you gents are in for the same thing?"

 

[SuperFerret]

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, once again...

J'onn J'onzz, the Martian Manhunter, stared ahead at the screens before him. News feeds from around the world, as well as surveillance from various locations in space, revealed untold amounts of information to him. Not many were able to process such a large amount of information at once, and the League's monitor room automatically records the data for later review, but J'onn J'onzz was able to. A small alert sounded, drawing the martian's attention to the screen showing the local news from Cleveland, Ohio. A high speed pursuit was occuring on a crowded highway at that moment, and footage of the chase was being shot from a news helicopter.

Furrowing his heavy brow, J'onn concentrated, extending his consciousness across the extreme distance between his position and the driver of the vehicle. Once contact was made, a single word was sent.

~Stop.~

The driver immediately pulled over, ending the pursuit safely. J'onn returned his attention to the other screens, smiling slightly to himself. His smile was fleeting, soon replaced by a frown as he recalled the recent... difficulties with Aquaman.

Arthur Curry, Orin, Aquaman. Whatever he is called, J'onn J'onzz knows him as an ally and friend, perhaps even as a brother. It deeply disturbed him to leave Orin with the United States Navy, he tried to think positively, that this whole situation would be sorted out. However, given the military's aggression towards Arthur during his apprehension, J'onn doubted that his hopes were realistic.

Perhaps he should visit his friend, despite the Navy's insistence that he leave them with Aquaman. Of course, they'd be none the wiser.

Being a telepathic shapeshifter does have it's benefits.

 

[Spike_x1]

​

Now

He couldn't tell how long he had been held captive in this hellhole. Months? Years? After so long, every single moment just seemed the blur together. His helmet still hadn't been fixed after his fight with the Marauder had shorted out all of its functions, leaving him blinded and necessitating his feeding to be done intravenously while he was strapped on the cold metal slab. On rare occasions, he had been untied from the table and blindly escorted to an interrogation room where he would be pummeled senselessly and asked with surprising politeness where his Atlantean gold was kept.

And honestly, Black Manta couldn't remember the location on most days.

It all seemed so long ago that, by the time they had worn down his defenses and got him to talk at all (was that months ago?), he couldn't tell which memories were real and which were mere fantasies that his deranged brain had conjured up while in this horrid captivity. Combined with the drugs that Manta was routinely dosed with that were meant to get him to tell the truth, there were some torture sessions where the locations he'd find himself confessing to his captors were completely ludicrous (although they felt like the truth to Manta, so he insisted that he was not lying, but was only met with more pain and suffering). Apparently, they were less than satisfied with Black Manta telling them that the gold was secretly being held in an online message board.

Through all the blood and tears, even with both real and false memories going in and out of his brain quite regularly, Black Manta managed to retain a single thought, a single impulsive rage-filled thought: [BLACKOUT]This is all Curry's fault.[/BLACKOUT]

He couldn't remember how he had done it, but freedom was finally within his reach. After one of the countless needless invasive surgeries that his jailers subjected him to several times per week, without anesthetic, they had at last made a mistake.

A scalpel had been accidentally dropped into one of Black Manta's gaping torturous wounds during one of the surgeries, and the misplaced instrument was easily overlooked and went unnoticed as the blood covered it and a bandage was placed over it. For a long time now, his captors had made his restraints loose enough for Black Manta to hold out hope every night that he would have some chance of wriggling free from his bounds when he was put back into his cell after each day of torture. The restraints just weren't loose enough!

Tonight's struggle was different, though. Tonight Manta had a glimmer of hope that wasn't intentionally placed there in order to screw with his head. After spending almost an hour silently scraping his arm against the edge of the table that he was strapped to, the blade of the scalpel finally poked out from under his scabbed skin and the bandage around his forearm. Feeling the cold bloody metal seemed to bring back some of the mental edge that Manta thought had been stolen from him over these long months in brutal captivity. He had a goal and he knew how to achieve it.

Cutting through the leather straps, and unlocking his helmet to finally enable him to see was child's play at that point. The hard parts were adjusting his eyes to the dim light of his cell after so long in blind darkness, and waiting until the next shift of torturers came into the cell, expecting to find a helpless Black Manta ready for another fun-filled day. It seemed like forever before he finally heard footsteps approaching the door to his cell, and Manta couldn't tell if it only seemed that long because of his anticipation, or if the hours had really managed to crawl along as he waited.

With that all too familiar creek of metal on metal, the cell door was unlocked and opened, as Black Manta was pressed on the wall beside the door, waiting for the men who entered to take another step inside to make certain that the table in the center of the room was truly empty. Both of the torturers who entered were utterly speechless at the sight before them, and remained silent as Manta slit their throats from behind and stole one of their uniforms and their equipment. However quiet Manta's murderous act may have been to human ears, however, it seemed that there was at least one thing in this compound with senses great enough that the scent of death was noticed...

Just as Black Manta slung one of the dead men's rifles over his shoulder, he heard a low growling coming from the door of the cell. Looking to it, Manta would have been lying if he said that he wasn't at least a little nervous about what was going to come next...

[BLACKOUT]"Sea Wolf. Fancy meeting you here."[/BLACKOUT]

 

[Electro UK]

Late night TV made Gordon wonder why he bothered. If the city's thugs weren't outside poisoning the streets, they were inside poisoning their minds with this rubbish. His head slid further down his hand as he started to succumb to tiredness, the low-budget action movie blarring away in the ground, the only thing to interrupt the silence. A lamp dimly lit the room, and a blanket over his legs kept Jim warm. The scene lloked somewhat stereotypical of any old man, though Commissioner James Gordon would tell you he was just cold.

Sleep.

No nightmares, for once, just peace.

*RING RING! RING RING!*

Jim flickered back to life, the dark of the night now even blacker than before, and the TV showing the news. He looked across to the phone that had so rudely interrupted his slumber and frowned. Probably the office, which probably meant he was about to go and inspect another dead bat. Groaning with the movement, he leant over and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

 

[Keyser Soze]

Across the world, in Africa, The Joker spoke to Gordon on the phone. He disguised his voice, making it unrecognisable to the listener on the other end of the line.

"Hello?"

 

[Electro UK]

Not the office. Someone he didn't know.

"Jim Gordon, who's speaking?"

 

[Keyser Soze]

Holding back his laughter, The Joker responded.

"Is Sarah there?"

 

[Electro UK]

Jim's mind shook a little at the thought. What was this? Was someone trying to... no.

"Who's speaking?"

 

[Keyser Soze]

"Sorry, I'm looking for Sarah Essen. I'm an old friend of hers, from Chicago. We fell out of touch. Do I have the right number? Is she there?"

 

[Electro UK]

Gordon alowed himself to lean back into his chair, relieved.

"Yes this is the right number, but Sarah isn't here. She... passed on a few years ago."

 

[Keyser Soze]

The Joker paused just long enough to imitate shock at this news.

"I'm sorry."

 

[Electro UK]

Gordon was almost a little dissapointed, someone out there to deliver bad news to instead of someone giving the good news to him.

"Its okay. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, I'm sure you were a good friend of Sarah's."

 

[Keyser Soze]

"I hope you don't mind me asking..."

The Joker had to hold the phone away from his ear for a second, while he forced down a laugh. Once he composed himself, he returned the phone to his ear.

"How did she die?"

 

[Electro UK]

Now it was getting uncomferatble.

"She was taken from us, by a madman."

 

[Keyser Soze]

"Oh my, that's awful."

The Joker stays silent, just long enough to put Gordon on edge, before continuing.

"I'm really sorry, this must be difficult for you. I just have one more thing to ask you, then I'll go. Would that be okay?"