Lord Wraith
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STATUS: When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of. 12 days ago
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When a group of players click and the posts keep roling in, that's what GM dreams are made of.
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We're roleplayers, of course we're going to make a third option the GM didn't present.
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I aim to misbehave.
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The GM should know exactly why each character was or wasn't accepted and be willing to state such. But the reality is that sometimes other characters/players just synergize better
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Limited slots and character applications exist as a way for the GM to manage their cast, maintain consistency and try to achieve mutual enjoyment for those involved.
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We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.
Location: The Batcave - Wayne Estate, Bristol County
Welcome to the Masquerade #1.02: Growing Pains
Interaction(s): None
Previously: False Faces
“You’ve been doing this for far too long for me to have to babysit you, McGinnis.” Bruce growled, leaning heavily on his cane as he paced back and forth in front of the wall of monitors that made up the screen of the ‘Batcomputer’. A high pitched screech was followed by the leathery flapping of wings as the bats which occupied their namesake cave flew overhead, their slumber disturbed by the elder’s man’s volume.
“That was sloppy work tonight,” Bruce snapped as he continued to berate Terry. Every step the old man made was matched by the large dog beside him. Black as the night, Ace was more than enough to make even Gotham’s most seasoned crook second guess his next move. Clearing his throat, Wayne launched into another verbal lashing as Terry could do nothing but listen to his mentor tear him down.
“I can’t believe you allowed yourself to be shot. You should have never deactivated the cloak on your suit. It could have been a clean takedown, but you had to quip, you had to gloat.”
“The suit took the blow.” Terry protested by Bruce raised a single finger to silence him.
“That’s not the point, McGinnis!” Bruce retorted, “Your brashness allowed one of the False Faces to get away, that’s another piece of trash back onto Gotham’s streets. Another gang banger free to continue to sell stolen drugs back to the junkies and dregs that line the back allies of this god forsaken city.”
“Bruce, I-”
“I’m not done yet, McGinnis!” The old man interjected silencing his younger protege again. “When I started this mission, this war, when it was me out there, I was alone. I had no one to rely on, there was no one was watching my back.” He stated before taking a breath and continuing. “I worry I’ve coddled you too much, made you too reliant upon my eyes and ears. You’re not prepared, you’ve not yet made the sacrifices it takes to be Batman.”
“I’ve done everything you asked and then some, that’s not fair!” McGinnis spat back as Wayne stood defiantly before him. Even leaning on his cane, the elderly man was eye level with Terry. In his prime, he would have been terrifying without the cowl let alone with the mask. It took everything Terry had not to blink as the pair stared each other down, Wayne’s gaze still able to make Terry’s skin crawl.
“Life isn’t fair, you know that.” Wayne retorted, the growl gaining more of an edge. “If it were, you’d still have a father.”
Silence fell over the cave, broken only by the bats overhead as the two men stood nearly nose to nose. Terry felt his first curl as his eyes looked down for a second, noticing Wayne’s white knuckles as his fingers threatened to crush the cane grasped beneath them.
“Terry, I-” Wayne began, his tone softening only for Terry to take a step back, tossing the Batsuit down on the nearby table.
“Should probably check the suit for damage, synaptics felt sluggish on the way home.”
“Circuits might not be making full contact, it would reduce the response time,” Wayne replied as he pulled up a chair. “You should get some rest, Ace and I will handle this,” Bruce added, nodding towards the sizeable Dane mix pacing the floor behind him.
“Uh thanks,” Terry replied, the pain of Bruce’s words still stinging as he rubbed the back his head, “Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.”
“Goodnight, McGinnis.”
“That was sloppy work tonight,” Bruce snapped as he continued to berate Terry. Every step the old man made was matched by the large dog beside him. Black as the night, Ace was more than enough to make even Gotham’s most seasoned crook second guess his next move. Clearing his throat, Wayne launched into another verbal lashing as Terry could do nothing but listen to his mentor tear him down.
“I can’t believe you allowed yourself to be shot. You should have never deactivated the cloak on your suit. It could have been a clean takedown, but you had to quip, you had to gloat.”
“The suit took the blow.” Terry protested by Bruce raised a single finger to silence him.
“That’s not the point, McGinnis!” Bruce retorted, “Your brashness allowed one of the False Faces to get away, that’s another piece of trash back onto Gotham’s streets. Another gang banger free to continue to sell stolen drugs back to the junkies and dregs that line the back allies of this god forsaken city.”
“Bruce, I-”
“I’m not done yet, McGinnis!” The old man interjected silencing his younger protege again. “When I started this mission, this war, when it was me out there, I was alone. I had no one to rely on, there was no one was watching my back.” He stated before taking a breath and continuing. “I worry I’ve coddled you too much, made you too reliant upon my eyes and ears. You’re not prepared, you’ve not yet made the sacrifices it takes to be Batman.”
“I’ve done everything you asked and then some, that’s not fair!” McGinnis spat back as Wayne stood defiantly before him. Even leaning on his cane, the elderly man was eye level with Terry. In his prime, he would have been terrifying without the cowl let alone with the mask. It took everything Terry had not to blink as the pair stared each other down, Wayne’s gaze still able to make Terry’s skin crawl.
“Life isn’t fair, you know that.” Wayne retorted, the growl gaining more of an edge. “If it were, you’d still have a father.”
Silence fell over the cave, broken only by the bats overhead as the two men stood nearly nose to nose. Terry felt his first curl as his eyes looked down for a second, noticing Wayne’s white knuckles as his fingers threatened to crush the cane grasped beneath them.
“Terry, I-” Wayne began, his tone softening only for Terry to take a step back, tossing the Batsuit down on the nearby table.
“Should probably check the suit for damage, synaptics felt sluggish on the way home.”
“Circuits might not be making full contact, it would reduce the response time,” Wayne replied as he pulled up a chair. “You should get some rest, Ace and I will handle this,” Bruce added, nodding towards the sizeable Dane mix pacing the floor behind him.
“Uh thanks,” Terry replied, the pain of Bruce’s words still stinging as he rubbed the back his head, “Goodnight, Mr. Wayne.”
“Goodnight, McGinnis.”
Placeholder
Next Issue: Meet Cute
M A R V I L L E, O K L A H O M A:
S U N D A Y, J U L Y 1 S T, 2 0 1 8 - 0 8 : 0 1 a m | H O M E O F B L A K E D O N A L D S O N & B A R A B A R A N O R R I S
"You should risk your life more often."
Barbara's voice broke the silence in the kitchen where Blake was currently standing, listening to the birds sing their song. Leaning against the railing of the staircase leading to their bedroom, Barbara was only wearing one of Blake's t-shirts tossed haphazardly over her slender, shapely figure, the tease of her black barely-there underwear peeking out from underneath. The morning sun illuminated her golden hair as she smiled at her lover when he turned to listen.
"Don't get me wrong, you've always been good." Barbara continued as she walked into the room, straddling a stool on the island adjacent to where Blake was standing, in front of the fridge, a carton of milk pressed to his lips.
"But last night... wow,"
"I've got some pretty high standards for you now, Dr. D," She cooed. "It was like you were a whole other person, and the way you held me, so firm and... Like have you been working out?" She asked biting down on her lip as Blake smiled back at her, putting the milk carton away as he moved around the island. Outside, the wind had begun to howl as the skies became overcast, the kitchen becoming notably darker while rain started to pelt against the windows.
Standing over Barbara, Blake leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. She pressed back, her hands wrapping around his shoulders as his hands found their way beneath her and hoisted the smaller woman onto the island. Outside thunder boomed as lightning illuminated the room. Blake's lips departed from Barbara's, moving to her earlobe, then her neck before continuing their way down her body as she let out a euphoric moan while another roll of thunder shook the house.
"Oh my... God!"
° ° ° °
Fastening the last button on her blouse, Barbara looked over at Blake as she lifted her long hair over her shoulders.
"You know, we're going to be late for church now right?" She stated before pausing as Blake pulled on a t-shirt.
"Is that what you're wearing?" She asked with a small giggle. "I know the church has a whole, 'Come As You Are' policy, but at least wear something with a collar."
"Right..." Thor replied with a pause of his own. "We go to church..." He stated, the words feeling foreign in his mouth.
"To worship, Jesus Christ." He continued, reluctantly pulling his shirt off and looking through 'his' wardrobe for something with a collar.
"You say that like it's the first time you've heard it." Barbara teased, "It was your insistence that we start going so we 'didn't disappoint your parents'." She raised her hands, making 'air quotes' with her fingers as Blake finally found a shirt that was both comfortable and had a collar.
"Wait," Thor stated suddenly as Barbara turned towards the door, stopping as she turned and shot him a mildly annoyed look.
"We're not married," He continued, "And we just had sex, before going to church? Isn't that a little... sacrilegious?" Thor asked with a smile as Barbara rolled her eyes.
"Really, now you want to talk theology?" Barbara snorted. "You know very well we're only going to keep the peace with your parents. Now c'mon, if I have to give up two hours that I could be back in bed with you, then the least we can do is not make a scene by walking in halfway through the sermon."
"Eh," Thor muttered. "Don't know what got into me." He chuckled as the pair left the house, walking down the front porch towards the large pick-up truck in the driveway. Walking around the front of the truck, Thor made his way towards the driver's door before Barbara whistled at him.
"Yo! Tall, fair and handsome." She yelled mockingly, "Get your ass in the bitch seat, you're not driving my truck."
"Your truck?" Thor blurted out, undeniable surprise plaguing his words. The conflicting memories in his head were rather difficult to sort out and Thor was quite surprised that his reincarnated self would ever have been driven around by a woman.
"What's that supposed to mean!" Barbara snapped back. "I sure as hell didn't buy it for you. You chose to drive your dinky little hybrid. Sorry if I'm hurting your manhood." She stormed while climbing into the driver's seat.
Looking at the 'dinky little hybrid' in question, Thor rolled his eyes.
"That's not going to do." He muttered only to be nearly deafened by the horn of the truck.
"GET IN!" Barbara yelled as Thor took hold of the door, gingerly opening it so as not to damage the new vehicle before climbing inside. "God, what has gotten into you."
"I've just been," Thor paused, "Thinking about making some lifestyle changes."
"Can you do it on your own damn time." Barbara teased, the edge in her voice lessened but was still notably there. "Look, I know being attacked, hell, seeing your life flash before your eyes, it can be traumatizing if you need to see someone-"
"Babe, I'm good, great even," Thor assured her as they pulled up to the church. Climbing out of the truck, music could be heard from the open windows even with the sound of the cicadas echoing out over the nearby cornfield. Entering the church, Thor reluctantly accepted the bulletin from the usher as he and Barbara tried to sneak into the back row.
Sitting down, Thor felt Barbara begin a sigh of relief before the air was suddenly drawn back into her lungs sharply as an elderly man turned around to look at Blake.
"Y'know son," Erik Donaldson's voice was loud and clear even as the worship team continued their praise to the 'one true God'. "No one likes a back row Baptist, 'specially a late one."
"Sorry Dad, we were-" Thor looked at Barbara who motioned for him to say something. "A little tangled up." He spat out as his dad shook his head.
"If you get that woman pregnant, I'll march you to the altar myself with a shotgun," Erik stated flatly before smiling at Barbara. "Always a blessed day with you around of course though, Barbara." Turning back around, Thor balled his fists in and out, his nostrils flaring.
Outside, the thunder rolled again causing Thor to suddenly sit up in his seat, the sky lightening outside as he took a deep, calming breath. It was going to take some practice to regain control over his powers again, especially without Mjölnir.
"Weather sure has been weird today huh?" Barbara whispered as she looked out the window. "Must be one of them meta-humans."
"Must be," Thor muttered his reply as the worship team left the stage only to be replaced by a man in a short-sleeved collar shirt and a tie. "And here we go."
The sermon was admittedly short to what Blake remembered, and Thor was quite grateful for that. As the service ended, Thor and Barbara bid Blake's parents adieu before they paused and looked at them confused.
"You're not coming for Sunday dinner?" Erik asked as Marcy stood beside him. "Your mother made pot roast, son, it's your favourite."
"Sorry, Dad," The word felt both foreign and familiar in Thor's mouth as he spoke it. "Thought Barbara and I might take, well a, rain check." He continued, Barbara noticeable flinching as the words made Marcy's face scrunch up in an expression that Thor didn't quite comprehend but Blake did.
Disappointment.
"What on Earth could you be doing that's more important than making your mother happy, son?" Erik pressed, his hands in his pockets but his shoulders were pointed forward, an aggressive stance that Thor quickly matched, folding his arms over each other as his biceps swelled. Blake couldn't remember a time that Erik had ever struck him, but Thor wasn't about to chance being sucker punched by a mortal.
"I, uh think we should be going," Barbara stated as she not so subtly tugged on Blake's arm. "Always a pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson." She added, waving as the couple turned and headed back towards her truck.
"What the hell kind of stunt was that? You pick Sunday, of all days, to stand up to your father." Barbara hissed as Thor shot her a glare.
"No mere man shall speak to me in that manner." He growled as Barbara took a step back, confusion covered her face as she looked up at him. The skies began to darken again as rain showered the pair prompting them to scramble inside the truck.
"You're not okay, Blake." She continued. "We're going home, and tomorrow you're coming down to the Sheriff's Office and I'll get the staff therapist to squeeze you in."
"That's not necessary," Thor replied, brushing her off. "I told you, I've never felt better."
"Bullshit, Donaldson," Barbara stated. "Tomorrow, you're getting help."
Barbara's voice broke the silence in the kitchen where Blake was currently standing, listening to the birds sing their song. Leaning against the railing of the staircase leading to their bedroom, Barbara was only wearing one of Blake's t-shirts tossed haphazardly over her slender, shapely figure, the tease of her black barely-there underwear peeking out from underneath. The morning sun illuminated her golden hair as she smiled at her lover when he turned to listen.
"Don't get me wrong, you've always been good." Barbara continued as she walked into the room, straddling a stool on the island adjacent to where Blake was standing, in front of the fridge, a carton of milk pressed to his lips.
"But last night... wow,"
"I've got some pretty high standards for you now, Dr. D," She cooed. "It was like you were a whole other person, and the way you held me, so firm and... Like have you been working out?" She asked biting down on her lip as Blake smiled back at her, putting the milk carton away as he moved around the island. Outside, the wind had begun to howl as the skies became overcast, the kitchen becoming notably darker while rain started to pelt against the windows.
Standing over Barbara, Blake leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. She pressed back, her hands wrapping around his shoulders as his hands found their way beneath her and hoisted the smaller woman onto the island. Outside thunder boomed as lightning illuminated the room. Blake's lips departed from Barbara's, moving to her earlobe, then her neck before continuing their way down her body as she let out a euphoric moan while another roll of thunder shook the house.
"Oh my... God!"
° ° ° ° Fastening the last button on her blouse, Barbara looked over at Blake as she lifted her long hair over her shoulders.
"You know, we're going to be late for church now right?" She stated before pausing as Blake pulled on a t-shirt.
"Is that what you're wearing?" She asked with a small giggle. "I know the church has a whole, 'Come As You Are' policy, but at least wear something with a collar."
"Right..." Thor replied with a pause of his own. "We go to church..." He stated, the words feeling foreign in his mouth.
"To worship, Jesus Christ." He continued, reluctantly pulling his shirt off and looking through 'his' wardrobe for something with a collar.
"You say that like it's the first time you've heard it." Barbara teased, "It was your insistence that we start going so we 'didn't disappoint your parents'." She raised her hands, making 'air quotes' with her fingers as Blake finally found a shirt that was both comfortable and had a collar.
"Wait," Thor stated suddenly as Barbara turned towards the door, stopping as she turned and shot him a mildly annoyed look.
"We're not married," He continued, "And we just had sex, before going to church? Isn't that a little... sacrilegious?" Thor asked with a smile as Barbara rolled her eyes.
"Really, now you want to talk theology?" Barbara snorted. "You know very well we're only going to keep the peace with your parents. Now c'mon, if I have to give up two hours that I could be back in bed with you, then the least we can do is not make a scene by walking in halfway through the sermon."
"Eh," Thor muttered. "Don't know what got into me." He chuckled as the pair left the house, walking down the front porch towards the large pick-up truck in the driveway. Walking around the front of the truck, Thor made his way towards the driver's door before Barbara whistled at him.
"Yo! Tall, fair and handsome." She yelled mockingly, "Get your ass in the bitch seat, you're not driving my truck."
"Your truck?" Thor blurted out, undeniable surprise plaguing his words. The conflicting memories in his head were rather difficult to sort out and Thor was quite surprised that his reincarnated self would ever have been driven around by a woman.
"What's that supposed to mean!" Barbara snapped back. "I sure as hell didn't buy it for you. You chose to drive your dinky little hybrid. Sorry if I'm hurting your manhood." She stormed while climbing into the driver's seat.
Looking at the 'dinky little hybrid' in question, Thor rolled his eyes.
"That's not going to do." He muttered only to be nearly deafened by the horn of the truck.
"GET IN!" Barbara yelled as Thor took hold of the door, gingerly opening it so as not to damage the new vehicle before climbing inside. "God, what has gotten into you."
"I've just been," Thor paused, "Thinking about making some lifestyle changes."
"Can you do it on your own damn time." Barbara teased, the edge in her voice lessened but was still notably there. "Look, I know being attacked, hell, seeing your life flash before your eyes, it can be traumatizing if you need to see someone-"
"Babe, I'm good, great even," Thor assured her as they pulled up to the church. Climbing out of the truck, music could be heard from the open windows even with the sound of the cicadas echoing out over the nearby cornfield. Entering the church, Thor reluctantly accepted the bulletin from the usher as he and Barbara tried to sneak into the back row.
Sitting down, Thor felt Barbara begin a sigh of relief before the air was suddenly drawn back into her lungs sharply as an elderly man turned around to look at Blake.
"Y'know son," Erik Donaldson's voice was loud and clear even as the worship team continued their praise to the 'one true God'. "No one likes a back row Baptist, 'specially a late one."
"Sorry Dad, we were-" Thor looked at Barbara who motioned for him to say something. "A little tangled up." He spat out as his dad shook his head.
"If you get that woman pregnant, I'll march you to the altar myself with a shotgun," Erik stated flatly before smiling at Barbara. "Always a blessed day with you around of course though, Barbara." Turning back around, Thor balled his fists in and out, his nostrils flaring.
Outside, the thunder rolled again causing Thor to suddenly sit up in his seat, the sky lightening outside as he took a deep, calming breath. It was going to take some practice to regain control over his powers again, especially without Mjölnir.
"Weather sure has been weird today huh?" Barbara whispered as she looked out the window. "Must be one of them meta-humans."
"Must be," Thor muttered his reply as the worship team left the stage only to be replaced by a man in a short-sleeved collar shirt and a tie. "And here we go."
The sermon was admittedly short to what Blake remembered, and Thor was quite grateful for that. As the service ended, Thor and Barbara bid Blake's parents adieu before they paused and looked at them confused.
"You're not coming for Sunday dinner?" Erik asked as Marcy stood beside him. "Your mother made pot roast, son, it's your favourite."
"Sorry, Dad," The word felt both foreign and familiar in Thor's mouth as he spoke it. "Thought Barbara and I might take, well a, rain check." He continued, Barbara noticeable flinching as the words made Marcy's face scrunch up in an expression that Thor didn't quite comprehend but Blake did.
Disappointment.
"What on Earth could you be doing that's more important than making your mother happy, son?" Erik pressed, his hands in his pockets but his shoulders were pointed forward, an aggressive stance that Thor quickly matched, folding his arms over each other as his biceps swelled. Blake couldn't remember a time that Erik had ever struck him, but Thor wasn't about to chance being sucker punched by a mortal.
"I, uh think we should be going," Barbara stated as she not so subtly tugged on Blake's arm. "Always a pleasure, Mr. and Mrs. Donaldson." She added, waving as the couple turned and headed back towards her truck.
"What the hell kind of stunt was that? You pick Sunday, of all days, to stand up to your father." Barbara hissed as Thor shot her a glare.
"No mere man shall speak to me in that manner." He growled as Barbara took a step back, confusion covered her face as she looked up at him. The skies began to darken again as rain showered the pair prompting them to scramble inside the truck.
"You're not okay, Blake." She continued. "We're going home, and tomorrow you're coming down to the Sheriff's Office and I'll get the staff therapist to squeeze you in."
"That's not necessary," Thor replied, brushing her off. "I told you, I've never felt better."
"Bullshit, Donaldson," Barbara stated. "Tomorrow, you're getting help."
So my question here is: Why did everyone (that isn't new/making someone new) decide to take a go at these characters again? Why bring them back?
I have a huge nostalgia factor for the Ultimate One Universe that @Master Bruce and @Morden Man did almost three years ago now. It was one of the first RPs where I had a successful run portraying Thor but going into the second season, I started to expand his story far too quickly and kept adjusting plans on the fly to compensate for people using characters or concepts that I wanted to use. This ultimately hurt my story and discouraged me. Going into this, I have the opportunity to revisit Thor and what I enjoyed playing about him in a next to no stress environment where it won't matter if I'm using the same characters as other players (see the character roster, we already have three separate Batman iterations).
For Terry McGinnis/Batman Beyond, I had similar frustrations as I did with Thor since due to the popularity of Batman, his rogues and Gotham City, in the usual structure of these games, everyone wants a piece of that pie. But more to the point, my run at Batman Beyond and RPing, in general, was brought to an end as I went through my marriage ending and went on a journey of self-discovery. However, I had numerous arcs and plots create for Terry that I'd hate to see wasted and genuinely enjoy the character and would love to play him out more.
Plus while continuity isn't a point of this RP, I'm kind of interested to create a world where my characters can exist simultaneously while allowing for shenanigans with other players. It helps that my Thor and @Sep's Iris Flash already co-existed within the same RP but it would be just as fun to bounce Terry off of @DocTachyon's Spider-Man and so forth.
I have to admit, this is a cool concept. I was wondering if it would be alright for someone to post Batman content even if it's already been established?
Yes. There are in fact already two in the IC haha.
Category: Dog1st Pick: McKenzy
2nd Pick: Gizmo
3rd Pick: Elin
Category: Cat1st Pick: Ice
2nd Pick: Phat Boi
3rd Pick: Suki
Category: Misc1st Pick: Peep
2nd Pick: Danica
3rd Pick: I am not giving a vote to a snake
So is this like a continuous Create-a-Post space (rather than a one-off like on superherohype); where we use it as a drawing board to tell stories we have inklings for?
This is a place where you can just jump in with an idea that doesn't fit anywhere else, revisit an idea that you never got to finish or burned out. Or just whatever, I don't care as long as you don't break site rules. A bunch of us were just lamenting old concepts we never completed and since most of these games result in a handful of people playing the same characters why not just let everyone do what they want and say screw it to continuity. If you want to collaborate with someone, just do it. Don't like what someone else is doing? Ain't your problem no more. Acknowledge what you like, don't worry about what you don't. Interact with everyone or no one.
Just have fun.
M A R V I L L E, O K L A H O M A:
S A T U R D A Y, J U N E 3 0 T H, 2 0 1 8 - 0 4 : 3 7 p m | D O W N T O W N
"There you are Ma'am, I'm sure Mr. Cuddles will be right as rain in no time at all." Dr. Blake Donaldson said as he gently passed the obese cat over the examination table to the frail old lady in front of him.
"But please, do try to limit Mr. Cuddles' treats to three per day," Blake added with a smile.
"I'm so sorry Doctor Donaldson, ever since my husband's passed away, I've just been lonely and the Mr. Cuddles here has been my only solace." The woman remarked, her voice cracking slightly as she continued. "And if I don't give Mr. Cuddles treats, he won't come to me. The darn cat always did like Ted more."
"Well, I can suggest a few other ways to attract the cat-" Blake began only to be cut off mid-sentence as a deafening crash echoed from outside on Marville's main street. It was quickly followed by the familiar whine of sirens as the Sheriff's department moved onto the scene.
"What in tarnation!" Mrs. Henderson exclaimed as Blake held up a hand for her to stay put as he moved out of the examination room and into the lobby where he could get a better view of whatever was happening outside.
"Doctor Donaldson, I'm sure the Sheriff's department can handle whatever it is." The elderly lady added as Blake turned back to look at her.
"That's what I'm afraid of." He retorted as his eyes searched the street for the old Crown Victoria. It didn't take much effort to pick the black and tan car out of the usual traffic that ran up and down Main Street, even less since its lights were reflecting red and blue off the front of the First National Bank across the street. Standing behind the passenger door with her gun drawn, was none other than the woman that Blake had been hoping not to see.
Barbara!
Barbara Norris, his college girlfriend, and common-law partner, the pair had been together for nearly five years now and there was no one in this world who knew Blake better than she did. But her choice of career wasn't exactly something Blake found desirable, his only relief being the staggering lack of violent crime in Marville.
At least until recently.
All over the world, individuals with what could only be described as superpowers, the stuff of old Captain America comic books, had begun to appear and caused what he personally considered to be a disaster. People with that kind of power, relatively unchecked, it was like they weren't held to any sort of responsibility and Blake could only imagine it was going to end in death for far too many people.
"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"
The sound of Sheriff Lamb's voice broke Blake's internal monologue as he looked up to see the figure of a large man in the doorway of the bank. As he stepped into the light, Blake felt a small sense of dread run down his spine as he realized the mutant threat had finally come to Marville. The man's skin appeared metallic in the daylight, shiny and reflective as the high sun beat down on it. In one hand was a large duffle bag, overstuff with wads of cash, no doubt from within the vault of the bank. n the other hand was a crudely made flail, something you'd see an art student try to throw together in shop class back in high-school.
"Wait, I know him," Blake muttered aloud. "That's-"
"CARL CREEL, PUT THE WEAPON DOWN AND YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" Lamb continued to issue orders as Blake's former classmate maintained his steady path towards the cruiser. By now, Blake was hardly the only bystander the incident had attracted. After all, the most exciting thing to happen in Marville in the last month was when the local diner, Donar's, tried adding a vegan option to the menu.
Suddenly a collective scream came from the gathered crowd as Creel moved, the flail flying through the air, smashing against the hood of the cruiser as Lamb and Barbara opened fire. Gunshots ricocheted off of Creel's skin, bouncing into the crowd as screams grew louder, accentuated by the cries of pain.
Horrified as he looked around at the chaos, Blake had never felt so powerless in his entire life. At least, not until he saw the flail turn towards Barbara. The sound of metal on metal echoed in his ears as time seemingly froze around him. He watched helplessly as the flail crashed against the door of the cruiser, the force throwing Barbara backward. The impact as she hit the ground echoing in Blake's ears as he charged forward. Watching the gun slide from her grasp, Blake suddenly found himself standing between Barbara and Creel as the other man smiled.
"Crusher!" Blake roared. "That's enough, no one has to die today."
"You do," Creel replied, a smile on his face as Blake stared back at him defiantly. "God offered me a gift, it came at one price. That I kill you."
"We had our rivalry in high-school Creel, but that was ten years ago. You need to let it go." Blake replied, his eyes watching the ball and chain dragging behind the man.
"You had me kicked off the team, you little snitch! You ruined my chances at getting out of this town!"
"You would have been caught doping the second you joined a college team, I did you a favour! I gave you a chance to find another path in life and this is what you chose!"
"SHUT. UP." Creel roared, the flail swinging around as it caught Blake straight in the chest. His body was suddenly lifted into the air, Barbara's cries echoing through his ears as the warm trickle of blood ran down his chin, his breathing strained as ribs felt like they imploded in on his chest. The dirty pavement did nothing to break his fall as Blake found himself crumpled on the ground of a nearby alley, toss away like the rest of the garbage in this town.
Grasping for air, Blake's eyes widened as an elderly man looked down on his. His clothes were tattered and tarnished, a wide-brimmed hat covering half his face as Blake noticed a scarred eye socket hiding before the shadow of the hat. His remaining eye, however, twinkled with a kindness, not unlike one would see in their own grandfather.
"I think it is time for you to get back in the fight my son." The man said as he took a firm hold on Blake's hand, helping the younger man to his feet as a strange sensation washed over Blake's body. The dreams that had plagued him for nearly a decade suddenly bombarded his mind. The sky overhead darkened as thunder began to rumble and suddenly it was as though a fog had been lifted from Blake's mind.
"Father," Thor spoke for the first time in what felt like a millennium.
"Go forth my son, the people of Midgard need you."
Lightning flashed as Thor emerged from the alley, his Asgardian armor appearing as he approached Crusher, catching the flail midair as it swung towards his beloved Barbara.
"I would have words with you, but it would seem that you are not in the mood for conversing," Thor yelled over the storm as Crusher looked at the strange man before him, completely bewildered.
"Who... W-who the hell are you!" He screamed as Thor ripped the flail from his hands.
"I am Thor, the Son of Odin, God of Thunder." He declared. "Heir to the Throne of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms, Björn of the North, the Lone Rider of the Storm, Lord of Battle, the fierce spirit and to my enemies the Terrible."
"Yeah well, fuck you," Creel snarled. "I'm Crusher Creel, the Absorbing Man, kicker of your ass, douchebag."
"The Absorbing Man?" Thor raised an eyebrow. "Are you a merchant of feminine hygiene products? Do you speak truly, are you fully absorbent?"
A chuckle arose from the silent crowd as Creel's face twisted in rage. Charging forward, he raised a fist only for Thor to grasp his wrist, hoisting the man above his head and slamming Creel into the ground as the asphalt splintered and shattered beneath the force.
"Arise my foe, let us continute to do battle." Thor taunted, motioning for Creel to approach with two fingers.
Scrambling to stand in the ever forming crater beneath him, Creel moved to charge Thor again only for the God of Thunder to step aside allowing Creel to awkward stumble past him. Roaring, the metal man turned and charged again, arms outstretched as Thor backhanded him across the face, tossing Creel aside like a ragdoll.
"FIGHT ME!" Creel roared as he steadied himself again.
"If that be your final wish." Thor smiled and charged Creel, leaping into the air as lighting swirled in the sky, meeting Thor's fist as he guided the bolt to Creel's face. A flash of light erupted upon impact and when it cleared, Thor stood triumphantly over his fallen foe. Creel's body slowly turning back to flesh and blood as he lost consciousness. Cheers exploded from the crowd as Thor bowed, leaping into the air as a gust of wind carried him over the rooftops, dropping him out of sight of the crowd. Dismissing his armor, Thor allowed himself to appear once again as Blake Donaldson.
Emerging from the alley, feigning his injuries, Thor stumbled forward, allowing himself to fall into the outstretched arms of Barbara Norris.
"I thought I had lost you." She stated a sigh of relief following her words. With a groan of agony, Thor replied in the guise of Blake.
"I think I'll leave the hero stuff to the professional from now on."
"But please, do try to limit Mr. Cuddles' treats to three per day," Blake added with a smile.
"I'm so sorry Doctor Donaldson, ever since my husband's passed away, I've just been lonely and the Mr. Cuddles here has been my only solace." The woman remarked, her voice cracking slightly as she continued. "And if I don't give Mr. Cuddles treats, he won't come to me. The darn cat always did like Ted more."
"Well, I can suggest a few other ways to attract the cat-" Blake began only to be cut off mid-sentence as a deafening crash echoed from outside on Marville's main street. It was quickly followed by the familiar whine of sirens as the Sheriff's department moved onto the scene.
"What in tarnation!" Mrs. Henderson exclaimed as Blake held up a hand for her to stay put as he moved out of the examination room and into the lobby where he could get a better view of whatever was happening outside.
"Doctor Donaldson, I'm sure the Sheriff's department can handle whatever it is." The elderly lady added as Blake turned back to look at her.
"That's what I'm afraid of." He retorted as his eyes searched the street for the old Crown Victoria. It didn't take much effort to pick the black and tan car out of the usual traffic that ran up and down Main Street, even less since its lights were reflecting red and blue off the front of the First National Bank across the street. Standing behind the passenger door with her gun drawn, was none other than the woman that Blake had been hoping not to see.
Barbara!
Barbara Norris, his college girlfriend, and common-law partner, the pair had been together for nearly five years now and there was no one in this world who knew Blake better than she did. But her choice of career wasn't exactly something Blake found desirable, his only relief being the staggering lack of violent crime in Marville.
At least until recently.
All over the world, individuals with what could only be described as superpowers, the stuff of old Captain America comic books, had begun to appear and caused what he personally considered to be a disaster. People with that kind of power, relatively unchecked, it was like they weren't held to any sort of responsibility and Blake could only imagine it was going to end in death for far too many people.
"COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!"
The sound of Sheriff Lamb's voice broke Blake's internal monologue as he looked up to see the figure of a large man in the doorway of the bank. As he stepped into the light, Blake felt a small sense of dread run down his spine as he realized the mutant threat had finally come to Marville. The man's skin appeared metallic in the daylight, shiny and reflective as the high sun beat down on it. In one hand was a large duffle bag, overstuff with wads of cash, no doubt from within the vault of the bank. n the other hand was a crudely made flail, something you'd see an art student try to throw together in shop class back in high-school.
"Wait, I know him," Blake muttered aloud. "That's-"
"CARL CREEL, PUT THE WEAPON DOWN AND YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!" Lamb continued to issue orders as Blake's former classmate maintained his steady path towards the cruiser. By now, Blake was hardly the only bystander the incident had attracted. After all, the most exciting thing to happen in Marville in the last month was when the local diner, Donar's, tried adding a vegan option to the menu.
Suddenly a collective scream came from the gathered crowd as Creel moved, the flail flying through the air, smashing against the hood of the cruiser as Lamb and Barbara opened fire. Gunshots ricocheted off of Creel's skin, bouncing into the crowd as screams grew louder, accentuated by the cries of pain.
Horrified as he looked around at the chaos, Blake had never felt so powerless in his entire life. At least, not until he saw the flail turn towards Barbara. The sound of metal on metal echoed in his ears as time seemingly froze around him. He watched helplessly as the flail crashed against the door of the cruiser, the force throwing Barbara backward. The impact as she hit the ground echoing in Blake's ears as he charged forward. Watching the gun slide from her grasp, Blake suddenly found himself standing between Barbara and Creel as the other man smiled.
"Crusher!" Blake roared. "That's enough, no one has to die today."
"You do," Creel replied, a smile on his face as Blake stared back at him defiantly. "God offered me a gift, it came at one price. That I kill you."
"We had our rivalry in high-school Creel, but that was ten years ago. You need to let it go." Blake replied, his eyes watching the ball and chain dragging behind the man.
"You had me kicked off the team, you little snitch! You ruined my chances at getting out of this town!"
"You would have been caught doping the second you joined a college team, I did you a favour! I gave you a chance to find another path in life and this is what you chose!"
"SHUT. UP." Creel roared, the flail swinging around as it caught Blake straight in the chest. His body was suddenly lifted into the air, Barbara's cries echoing through his ears as the warm trickle of blood ran down his chin, his breathing strained as ribs felt like they imploded in on his chest. The dirty pavement did nothing to break his fall as Blake found himself crumpled on the ground of a nearby alley, toss away like the rest of the garbage in this town.
Grasping for air, Blake's eyes widened as an elderly man looked down on his. His clothes were tattered and tarnished, a wide-brimmed hat covering half his face as Blake noticed a scarred eye socket hiding before the shadow of the hat. His remaining eye, however, twinkled with a kindness, not unlike one would see in their own grandfather.
"I think it is time for you to get back in the fight my son." The man said as he took a firm hold on Blake's hand, helping the younger man to his feet as a strange sensation washed over Blake's body. The dreams that had plagued him for nearly a decade suddenly bombarded his mind. The sky overhead darkened as thunder began to rumble and suddenly it was as though a fog had been lifted from Blake's mind.
"Father," Thor spoke for the first time in what felt like a millennium.
"Go forth my son, the people of Midgard need you."
Lightning flashed as Thor emerged from the alley, his Asgardian armor appearing as he approached Crusher, catching the flail midair as it swung towards his beloved Barbara.
"I would have words with you, but it would seem that you are not in the mood for conversing," Thor yelled over the storm as Crusher looked at the strange man before him, completely bewildered.
"Who... W-who the hell are you!" He screamed as Thor ripped the flail from his hands.
"I am Thor, the Son of Odin, God of Thunder." He declared. "Heir to the Throne of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms, Björn of the North, the Lone Rider of the Storm, Lord of Battle, the fierce spirit and to my enemies the Terrible."
"Yeah well, fuck you," Creel snarled. "I'm Crusher Creel, the Absorbing Man, kicker of your ass, douchebag."
"The Absorbing Man?" Thor raised an eyebrow. "Are you a merchant of feminine hygiene products? Do you speak truly, are you fully absorbent?"
A chuckle arose from the silent crowd as Creel's face twisted in rage. Charging forward, he raised a fist only for Thor to grasp his wrist, hoisting the man above his head and slamming Creel into the ground as the asphalt splintered and shattered beneath the force.
"Arise my foe, let us continute to do battle." Thor taunted, motioning for Creel to approach with two fingers.
Scrambling to stand in the ever forming crater beneath him, Creel moved to charge Thor again only for the God of Thunder to step aside allowing Creel to awkward stumble past him. Roaring, the metal man turned and charged again, arms outstretched as Thor backhanded him across the face, tossing Creel aside like a ragdoll.
"FIGHT ME!" Creel roared as he steadied himself again.
"If that be your final wish." Thor smiled and charged Creel, leaping into the air as lighting swirled in the sky, meeting Thor's fist as he guided the bolt to Creel's face. A flash of light erupted upon impact and when it cleared, Thor stood triumphantly over his fallen foe. Creel's body slowly turning back to flesh and blood as he lost consciousness. Cheers exploded from the crowd as Thor bowed, leaping into the air as a gust of wind carried him over the rooftops, dropping him out of sight of the crowd. Dismissing his armor, Thor allowed himself to appear once again as Blake Donaldson.
Emerging from the alley, feigning his injuries, Thor stumbled forward, allowing himself to fall into the outstretched arms of Barbara Norris.
"I thought I had lost you." She stated a sigh of relief following her words. With a groan of agony, Thor replied in the guise of Blake.
"I think I'll leave the hero stuff to the professional from now on."
We all wear masks, and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.
Location: Gotham Docks - Bleake Island, Gotham City
Welcome to the Masquerade #1.01: False Faces
Interaction(s): None
Previously: None
The beeping of the reversing truck echoed between the warehouses as it backed down the pier towards the awaiting idle vessel. Several of the ship’s crew stood on the stern of the small trawler, weapons firmly held at the ready as they watched the approaching vehicle slow to a stop.
Within the cab of the truck, the occupants did a last minute inspection of their firearms as the stout man in the back was the first to make a move to exit the vehicle. Taking hold of the door handle, he felt a firm hand take hold of his shoulder, causing him to pause before turning his head to look back at his associates.
“What?” He snapped, “Boss wants this over with.”
“Boss also insisted we wear these.” The other man replied as he extended an elephant mask towards the man.
“What the hell man?” The large man snapped before looking towards the remaining masks in the other man’s hands, “Give me the tiger one!”
“Boss specifically said you’re the elephant.” The driver interjected, “He was quite adamant that everyone wears their specified mask.” He added, reaching towards the tiger before putting it on.
“Fuckin’ fine then,” The first man snarled as he pulled on the mask. “Everyone happy now? ‘Tiny’ Pete’s a big, fat, fuckin’ elephant.”
“Ecstatic.” The Tiger replied dryly as the Wolf and the Stork stifled a few chuckles beneath their masks. “Could we move along then?”
“Zat’s what I was trying to do in the first fuckin’ place.” Muttered the Elephant as he climbed out of the cabin and moved towards the rear of the truck and opened the cargo door. The dark interior of the vehicle was illuminated by the lights dotting the docks as the silver `Wayne` logo on each of the cases reflected the light along their metallic surfaces.
“Glad to see everyone took the time to put on their game faces.” A voice called from behind the Elephant-masked man as the Tiger turned his head towards the source.
“Still on time though, Mr. White.” The Tiger exclaimed, his tone friendly as he swung his arms open, motioning towards the shipment in the back of the truck with his weapon. “Straight from Wayne/Sionis’ R&D department, courtesy of the False Face Society.”
“Go check it out,” White ordered to the man on his right as he straightened his leather suit jacket. “Ensure we’re getting what we’re paying for, and hurry!” He called after the man in the white suit, “I ain’t got all damn night.”
Jumping from the aft of the trawler to the dock, the tall, dark-skinned man landed softly on the wooden planks before adjusting his large sunglasses as he walked towards the four masked men.
“Holy fuck!” The Stork muttered as he leaned towards the Wolf, “That’s the fuckin’ Tally Man, what’s he doing with Warren White?”
“Warren’s a shark and money talks, especially in a city like Gotham.” The Wolf replied in a hushed tone, “And the Tally Man always gets paid.”
“And don’t you clowns forget it,” The ‘Tally Man’ flatly stated as he approached the open truck. Motioning towards the cases, he spoke again, “Open them.”
“Easy with the accusations there, amigo. We don’t run with the Jokerz.” The Tiger retorted before nodding towards the Elephant. Obliging, the larger man pulled the first case forward, lifting it with a loud grunt.
“My sincerest apologies,” The Tally Man dryly replied as he looked towards the case, watching as the Elephant lifted the lid. Lining the padded interior were numerous vials of fentanyl, bound initially for hospitals all across the Eastern seaboard, it would now instead be distributed back on Gotham’s streets for profit.
“Twenty-nine more cases in the truck?”
The cowl had picked up every word as Terry remained crouched over the edge of the nearby warehouse, watching, listening and waiting for his moment to strike. He and Bruce had been watching Warren White’s activity for the past week. The former financer had begun making aggressive moves in Gotham’s underworld. This outing was his largest show of force yet, but Terry and Bruce were betting on it being his last.
“You get all that?” The Batman asked as he spoke through the communications channel open in his cowl.
“Every word.” Came Bruce’s gravelly reply. “Take them down.”
“On it,” Terry replied, tapping the center of the suit’s belt as the dark figure disappeared, camouflaging perfectly with its surroundings. Landing silently on the pier, the Batman approached the scene as the two groups were busy unloading the remainder of the truck’s contents.
“I’ll want you to ensure every case has what we were promised,” Warren White’s voice could be heard ordering over the din. Acknowledging the order, the Tally Man nodded, rolling his eyes beneath the thick sunglasses adorning his face. Opening a second case, he nodded his head before closing it and moving onto the next one.
“We should hurry this up,” The Tiger spoke up as he placed the container down in front of the man in the white suit. “This is night in fuckin’ Gotham after all.”
“Are you worried about the Bat?” White spoke up, a smug smile crossing his face. “He won’t be a problem, I left a present for him in the North End, sent some of my guys to Burnley to keep him off our back.”
“Actually,” A voice interjected from the shadows, “I gave them the rest of the night off.” The words were followed by something flying through the darkness as it struck Warren square in the chest. The air left the corrupt man’s lungs as his feet were lifted off the ground, bolas wrapping around him as he was restrained.
Tapping his belt again, the Batman vanished before their eyes as they began to discharge their weapons in every direction. Sliding along the ground, Batman took ahold of the rifle closest to him, using it to hurl the Stork masked man into the air. Ripping the firearm free of his grasp, Batman spun around, driving the butt of the automatic weapon into the stomach of the Elephant.
Moving swiftly, Batman fired several batarangs from the wrist-mounted launcher on his suit. The projectiles flew through the air before hitting their marks as the Tiger was the first to cry out in pain. His gun clattered to the ground loudly as blood ran down either side of his impaled hand. Jumping up, the Batman delivered a sharp kick to the man’s head watching him fall to the ground.
Suddenly a hiss escaped from between Terry’s pursed lips as his right arm was struck with sudden pain. The Tally Man had gotten a lucky shot off, the bullet hitting Batman in the arm as his suit distributed the force of the blow over its surface, minimizing its impact. It hadn’t broken through the suit, but that did little to reduce the pain he was currently feeling.
The gun went off again, this time, however, Batman was ready as he evaded the Tally Man’s shots. Releasing a batarang from his hand, the weapon struck the Tally Man’s gun, knocking the firearm free of his grasp. His gaze followed the handgun into the air, the Tally Man turned his head at the last second, his vision filled by a closed fist as the Batman delivered a hard hook to the hitman. Dropping the man to the ground, Terry kicked the gun away as he surveyed the scene around him.
“Where’s the Wolf?” Wayne’s voice asked as Terry counted the felled men before him again. The old man was right, they were one short. Suddenly the truck’s engine roared to life as Terry spun around too late to react as the vehicle peeled off, heading back towards Old Gotham.
“Worry about him later,” Wayne growled in a tone that Terry knew was going to involve a lecture later. “Ensure White and the others are taken into custody, I’ll let Gordon know where he can pick them up.”
“Copy that, and the fentanyl?” Terry asked.
“I’ll make sure Gordon knows it’s accounted for as well.”
Within the cab of the truck, the occupants did a last minute inspection of their firearms as the stout man in the back was the first to make a move to exit the vehicle. Taking hold of the door handle, he felt a firm hand take hold of his shoulder, causing him to pause before turning his head to look back at his associates.
“What?” He snapped, “Boss wants this over with.”
“Boss also insisted we wear these.” The other man replied as he extended an elephant mask towards the man.
“What the hell man?” The large man snapped before looking towards the remaining masks in the other man’s hands, “Give me the tiger one!”
“Boss specifically said you’re the elephant.” The driver interjected, “He was quite adamant that everyone wears their specified mask.” He added, reaching towards the tiger before putting it on.
“Fuckin’ fine then,” The first man snarled as he pulled on the mask. “Everyone happy now? ‘Tiny’ Pete’s a big, fat, fuckin’ elephant.”
“Ecstatic.” The Tiger replied dryly as the Wolf and the Stork stifled a few chuckles beneath their masks. “Could we move along then?”
“Zat’s what I was trying to do in the first fuckin’ place.” Muttered the Elephant as he climbed out of the cabin and moved towards the rear of the truck and opened the cargo door. The dark interior of the vehicle was illuminated by the lights dotting the docks as the silver `Wayne` logo on each of the cases reflected the light along their metallic surfaces.
“Glad to see everyone took the time to put on their game faces.” A voice called from behind the Elephant-masked man as the Tiger turned his head towards the source.
“Still on time though, Mr. White.” The Tiger exclaimed, his tone friendly as he swung his arms open, motioning towards the shipment in the back of the truck with his weapon. “Straight from Wayne/Sionis’ R&D department, courtesy of the False Face Society.”
“Go check it out,” White ordered to the man on his right as he straightened his leather suit jacket. “Ensure we’re getting what we’re paying for, and hurry!” He called after the man in the white suit, “I ain’t got all damn night.”
Jumping from the aft of the trawler to the dock, the tall, dark-skinned man landed softly on the wooden planks before adjusting his large sunglasses as he walked towards the four masked men.
“Holy fuck!” The Stork muttered as he leaned towards the Wolf, “That’s the fuckin’ Tally Man, what’s he doing with Warren White?”
“Warren’s a shark and money talks, especially in a city like Gotham.” The Wolf replied in a hushed tone, “And the Tally Man always gets paid.”
“And don’t you clowns forget it,” The ‘Tally Man’ flatly stated as he approached the open truck. Motioning towards the cases, he spoke again, “Open them.”
“Easy with the accusations there, amigo. We don’t run with the Jokerz.” The Tiger retorted before nodding towards the Elephant. Obliging, the larger man pulled the first case forward, lifting it with a loud grunt.
“My sincerest apologies,” The Tally Man dryly replied as he looked towards the case, watching as the Elephant lifted the lid. Lining the padded interior were numerous vials of fentanyl, bound initially for hospitals all across the Eastern seaboard, it would now instead be distributed back on Gotham’s streets for profit.
“Twenty-nine more cases in the truck?”
The cowl had picked up every word as Terry remained crouched over the edge of the nearby warehouse, watching, listening and waiting for his moment to strike. He and Bruce had been watching Warren White’s activity for the past week. The former financer had begun making aggressive moves in Gotham’s underworld. This outing was his largest show of force yet, but Terry and Bruce were betting on it being his last.
“You get all that?” The Batman asked as he spoke through the communications channel open in his cowl.
“Every word.” Came Bruce’s gravelly reply. “Take them down.”
“On it,” Terry replied, tapping the center of the suit’s belt as the dark figure disappeared, camouflaging perfectly with its surroundings. Landing silently on the pier, the Batman approached the scene as the two groups were busy unloading the remainder of the truck’s contents.
“I’ll want you to ensure every case has what we were promised,” Warren White’s voice could be heard ordering over the din. Acknowledging the order, the Tally Man nodded, rolling his eyes beneath the thick sunglasses adorning his face. Opening a second case, he nodded his head before closing it and moving onto the next one.
“We should hurry this up,” The Tiger spoke up as he placed the container down in front of the man in the white suit. “This is night in fuckin’ Gotham after all.”
“Are you worried about the Bat?” White spoke up, a smug smile crossing his face. “He won’t be a problem, I left a present for him in the North End, sent some of my guys to Burnley to keep him off our back.”
“Actually,” A voice interjected from the shadows, “I gave them the rest of the night off.” The words were followed by something flying through the darkness as it struck Warren square in the chest. The air left the corrupt man’s lungs as his feet were lifted off the ground, bolas wrapping around him as he was restrained.
“Batman!”
“Shoot him!”
“It’s the fuckin’ Bat!”
“Batman’s here!”
“Look out, it’s the Bat!”
“Shoot him!”
Tapping his belt again, the Batman vanished before their eyes as they began to discharge their weapons in every direction. Sliding along the ground, Batman took ahold of the rifle closest to him, using it to hurl the Stork masked man into the air. Ripping the firearm free of his grasp, Batman spun around, driving the butt of the automatic weapon into the stomach of the Elephant.
Moving swiftly, Batman fired several batarangs from the wrist-mounted launcher on his suit. The projectiles flew through the air before hitting their marks as the Tiger was the first to cry out in pain. His gun clattered to the ground loudly as blood ran down either side of his impaled hand. Jumping up, the Batman delivered a sharp kick to the man’s head watching him fall to the ground.
Suddenly a hiss escaped from between Terry’s pursed lips as his right arm was struck with sudden pain. The Tally Man had gotten a lucky shot off, the bullet hitting Batman in the arm as his suit distributed the force of the blow over its surface, minimizing its impact. It hadn’t broken through the suit, but that did little to reduce the pain he was currently feeling.
The gun went off again, this time, however, Batman was ready as he evaded the Tally Man’s shots. Releasing a batarang from his hand, the weapon struck the Tally Man’s gun, knocking the firearm free of his grasp. His gaze followed the handgun into the air, the Tally Man turned his head at the last second, his vision filled by a closed fist as the Batman delivered a hard hook to the hitman. Dropping the man to the ground, Terry kicked the gun away as he surveyed the scene around him.
“Where’s the Wolf?” Wayne’s voice asked as Terry counted the felled men before him again. The old man was right, they were one short. Suddenly the truck’s engine roared to life as Terry spun around too late to react as the vehicle peeled off, heading back towards Old Gotham.
“Worry about him later,” Wayne growled in a tone that Terry knew was going to involve a lecture later. “Ensure White and the others are taken into custody, I’ll let Gordon know where he can pick them up.”
“Copy that, and the fentanyl?” Terry asked.
“I’ll make sure Gordon knows it’s accounted for as well.”
Placeholder
Next Issue: Growing Pains
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