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Very well, where do I begin?

My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet.

My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament.

My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds - pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles.

There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking. I highly suggest you try it.

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Something a bit different.

As a kid, growing up who was your favourite Superhero(es)?


Ever since seeing this particular frame when I was 4 years old, for whatever reason, I became instantly enamored with both superheroes and the titular character of this film:



I don't exactly remember the exact order of events that led to my interest in characters beyond Batman, but they were catching an episode of Spider-Man: The Animated Series while my cousin flipped through channels, getting a Happy Meal toy of Wolverine and thinking he was cool because he looked remarkably similar to Batman, and my dad showing me a scene from Superman The Movie. So all three of those characters stuck with me to varying degrees ever since with Spidey and Supes rounding out my eternal trifecta.

But my passion for The Caped Crusader never really died. It just expanded as I grew older, from being given the action figures at a young age to getting old enough to watch the movies as they came to theaters, to doing a deep dive into BTAS reruns and eventually beginning to follow the comics and collect the graphic novels when I was 13. If it involved Batman, I knew of it and had consumed it willingly.
Hey, now.

Maybe Vig just can't see colors properly in his Ghost Rider state.

All of you right now:



Alright, people. The MME's end will be coming later tonight, thus concluding the saga of The Silver Surfer.

From there, and with the extension in mind, you all have a chance to either organically part from the scene by having your character do what they can or engaging in a bit of post-fight interaction, or you can jump ahead entirely and start laying out the foundations for your epilogues. Individually, it's up to you.
Was a bit rough finishing that one...

Got a call today telling me that we're going to have to euthanize a do we've been fostering...

Going to make some calls and see if there's a workaround... but yeah.


Oh, geez. That's awful. Hopefully things can be worked out on that front.
Personally, I think I'm a shoe-in for "Best Bat-themed Vigilante Whose Parents Are Dead", but I don't want to get too ahead of myself.
Yes, after Friday's end of the game, we'll have the weekend to do post-season awards and prep applications for Season Two.


After a motion to appeal the deadline just to give everyone a little more time to carry out the rest of the MME properly and end the season without rushing, we've decided to extend the deadline from tomorrow to midnight on Friday, September 28th.

So huzzah! Extra time to do what you've all gotta do!
Will we all get our own little Epilogue however? I have something I wanna post to set up for next season, but I don't want it tacked onto the end of a MME post.


Yes, you all get to end the season how you want. It won't be part of a montage post or anything.

And yeah, the deadline is midnight tomorrow.

Would it be selfish of me to make a claim for it?

I've had my epilogue written up for a while now and I feel like it'll be fairly impactful and may even help shape the direction of the next game a little. But I've played such a role in the MME that I don't want to appear to be hogging the limelight, as it where. I think @Byrd Man and @Lord Wraith are the only two people to have seen it so perhaps they could speak to my claim also.


I think you've definitely earned the spot, and will be happy to give it to you. Your work this season has been outstanding, among one of the highlights throughout the entire game. It should be only fitting that the First Family of two games get the final word.


Everything goes dark.

No sooner does The Toyman issue his final, fleeting message of defeat does a power outage sweep the entire building. I can hear static in my earpiece, indicating that my connection to Barbara Gordon has been severed. Must have been Toyman's final act in disabling the electricity. Looking over to the bloated, rotting corpse of the madman once known as Winslow Schott, I sneer before turning my back to it. The authorities will be told through an anonymous tip that there may be a dead man in Stagg Enterprises' sub-basement, and I'll just have to trust that they'll actually do their jobs and investigate. Should be an interesting interview with Simon Stagg, at the very least, though I suspect his PR agents will do a hell of a job trying to distance him from all of this. If word got out that he was even tangentially involved with a terrorist who successfully launched a nuclear warhead towards Gotham, he could be charged on a federal level - but I'm not holding my breath.

Picking up the ruined cowl that sits at the floor infront of me, I look it over and wonder if it could still potentially keep my identity hidden. But it's in too poor of shape for me to even consider it. So instead, I take a length of a steel cable from my belt and wrap the armored shell in it, allowing it to hang from my belt. The melted fabric that covers it goes into an empty section of the belt itself, and I produce a grapple gun. Not nearly as advanced or capable as The Utility Gun, but it's an earlier model that runs on pressurized gas instead of electricity. If my equipment's compromised, this should do the trick to get me back to the surface.

Firing the grapple, I notice that the glow of Gotham outside is curiously dim aswell. Ascending several stories up the abandoned building, I only notice that it gets darker as I get closer. Reaching the top, I climb up and begin to assess the damage. But what I see staring back at me isn't a city - it's a ghost town. Every building in Gotham has been hit by the power outage, to my surprise, and Stagg Enterprises is merely one building in a sea of shadows that I can't see past into the horizon. What I do notice, however, is a faint glow from the far distance. By the time I turn around to see where it originates, my mouth is agape.

The warhead.

"My god... it actually detonated."

My heart sinks into my stomach as I try and weigh out whether or not the blast was averted far enough to avoid any potential hazardous fallout. Judging by the distance and the size of the mushroom cloud now ascending to the skies, there may be a minimal radioactivity hitting the Bay area. But I don't believe anyone in Gotham will be affected, as long as everyone is told to avoid the drinking water for the next few days. My concern for the city shifts away to another matter, as a chill runs down my spine, realizing there's something far more grave to consider.

Superman.

I know that he's able to withstand most forms of conventional harm. He proved that much whenever he took on the drones and Toyman's robots with little-to-no damage, not to mention the smoke and electricity that I levelled at him during our brief misunderstanding in Grant Park. But a nuclear blast? Even his biology is alien in nature and not metahuman, as conventional wisdom previously suggested, I don't know. I honestly don't know if he could've survived that. If he did, he may well be the most powerful being on the face of the planet.

And if he didn't… he died saving all of our lives.

My fears grow into a deeper concern, as I realize that the man I feared - the man I fought - needs to get back up and live for another day. Not just for the sake of Metropolis, but for Lois Lane and the entire world at large. Despite my earlier reservations, he didn't hesitate for even an instant when it came to the potential annihilation of a city he owes nothing to. That doesn't make him a threat, as I'd previously believed. That makes him a hero.

Rain and lighting start to pick up, probably as a result of the blast and the dramatic change in the environment. The lights of Gotham flicker back to life behind me, and the static in my earpiece disappears.

But instead of Oracle's voice, I hear one more familiar to me.

"Batman?! Lad, can you hear me?! I've secured Miss Lane and Dr. Irons at the safehouse, but we all heard what sounded like a massive blast! Are you and Superman... that is to say, are either of you alright?"

I continue staring at the mushroom cloud in shock, unsure of what to say.

"I..."

Clearing my throat, I try and gather myself as best as possible.

"I'm fine, Alfred. A little banged up, but I've had worse. That sound you heard was... an explosion. From a nuclear missile that was headed for the city. We're out of danger now, but Superman..."



"I don't know if he survived."
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