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Fandom Batman: A Year In Blood Vol 1 (CLOSED)

Scatterbrain

Trying really hard to stay focused

Batman: A Year In Blood
Issue 1 Apr 2017
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Prologue
The storm raged relentlessly, bringing it's full fury to bear on the Lost Mountains of Cathala, deep within the Hungarian countryside. Hidden by the cloak of night, the storm born lightning offered brief glimpses of a castle usually left unseen.

The rain was torrential, cascading down upon it's roof, turning red as it ran down the Batman's battered and bloody body. His head throbbed relentlessly and pain shot through his chest, his broken ribs stabbing into his lungs with each shallow breath he took. He knew he couldn't last much longer, with his swollen right eye impairing his vision and a concussion disorienting his senses, the resistance he could offer was minimal but he had to try.

For Julie.

He had needed to lure the madman away, give her a chance to escape and himself time to regroup. However the chase had brought him to this precipice, with nowhere else to go but back the way he came and with his foe positioned in front of it, he was trapped.

This would be where he made his last stand.

"You're concerned about the woman?" The Monk spoke up. "Don't be. You won't live much longer anyway. Once I have finished with you, I shall hunt her down and continue what you interrupted. She is to be only the first of many."

He looked over at the crimson clad monk. He had lain blow after blow on him and yet he appeared completely unfazed. The Batman had been trained by and fought some of the greatest fighters in the world and yet here he was completely outmatched by this lunatics superior strength, speed and savagery.

How could that be? He had never seen anything like it before.

His mind grasped frantically for some answer, some explanation.

Pricolici.

All the local villagers he spoke too uttered that word over and over again.

He had heeded it no mind at the time. In such rural areas, many people still clung on to long held superstitions of spirits and ghosts rising from the grave to torment the living.

His opponent was just a man.

Wasn't he?

The dark knight was snapped back to his senses as a bolt of lightning crashed a few feet away from him, into a nearby tree leaving nothing but a scorched and ruined husk.

Calling upon his years of training, he pushed those irrational thoughts to the back of his mind. It didn't matter who or what his opponent was. All that mattered, was that he was stopped. Here and now.
He clenched his broken hand into a fist.

The monk tilted his head. "You still choose to fight?" He let out a sigh. "I tire of your futile resistance, besides I begin to thirst." With inhuman speed, the crimson cardinal traversed the rooftop and was upon the Batman once more.

The caped crusader reacted quickly, swinging at the madman, only to has his arm caught in mid-flight. Before he could respond, he was violently lifted into the air, crying out in pain as his arm was wrenched from it's socket.

"How ironic, that you meet your demise at the hands of one that truly embodies that which you so choose to emulate." The Monk lifted his hood, revealing a set of monstrous fangs before plunging them into the hero's neck.

As he felt the life ebb from his body, the Batman feebly and desperately reached for his belt with his free hand. With tentative fingers, he pulled a Batarang from his belt and thrust into the side of the fiend's head.

The villain roared in pain, throwing the dark knight behind him, the crimefighter coming to a halt just short of the roof's edge. He unsteadily got back on his feet, as his adversary attempted to remove the object.

Now was his chance. He had to take it. No matter the cost.

He charged across the rooftop at his opponent, as fast as he legs could carry him. The Monk turned but it was too late as the caped crusader slammed into him sending the two hurtling from the cathedral roof.

The Batman collided with the branches of a tree, turning him around before finally striking the ground. His body screamed in agony, the pain was overwhelming but as he lay there motionless but still conscious, looking up at the night sky, he could see that the Monk had fared far worse. He had been impaled on the lightning struck tree, it's jagged remains protruding out of his chest. Bruce couldn't help but think that it was almost as if the heavens themselves had stepped in to finally put an end to his reign of terror.

"Hello! Can anyone hear me?" a voice called out.

Julie!

She had come back for him.

"Is anyone there?"

He attempted to respond yet he was too weak, his body could endure no longer but as he slipped into unconsciousness, he swore he could see the Monk's body crumble into ash....​
 
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Scatterbrain

Trying really hard to stay focused
Two months later....

Issue 1.jpg
"Julie!"

Bruce yelled out, as he sat bolt upright. He looked around anxiously; he was lying in bed back at Wayne Manor. He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

The same nightmare. No, not a nightmare. A flashback.

The night that everything changed.

"Master Bruce?" Bruce looked up to see Alfred standing in the doorway, a concerned expression on his face and holding a platter of food. "I'm fine, Alfred." Alfred let out a visible sigh of relief, before entering the room.

"Bad dreams again, sir?" Alfred said, as he placed the platter on the side table.

Bruce looked away. He wasn't hungry. He never was.

Ever since that night, he had found it replaced by something else. Something far worse.

Alfred knew this but he had continued to cook for him regardless. Bruce suspected it was for his own benefit rather than anyone else, to help him keep some semblance of normality in the new existence he now was a part of. Bruce had come close to seriously injuring him on multiple occasions during those early days and he knew that anybody else would of left long ago but still here Alfred was, faithfully by his side. It was only with his help that he had managed to hold on to any of his humanity.

He would forever owe him for that.

He could sense Alfred still standing there, hovering. Bruce knew he would stay there until he had at least seen him attempt to eat so he turned back to the platter and grabbing a fork, skewered some vegetables before placing them into his mouth. A smile crossed Alfred's face, satisfied he walked up to the television. Bruce swallowed, before speaking.

"Have you heard anything from Julie?"

"I'm afraid not, sir." He replied solemly, turning on the television.

A downtrodden expression consumed Bruce's face. They were engaged, due to be married and he had hoped, given enough time and some space she would find her way back to him but he hadn't seen or heard from her since his return to Gotham. Bruce could understand, an experience like that would leave anyone shaken. No-one should have had to go through what she did that night and he was thankful at first for her absence, he was no better than an animal back then and it meant she was safe but as time progressed, the void she left behind in him grew larger.

He still loved her, that didn't change, it never would, but did she still love him? Could she? Even with the monster he had become?
 
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Literally Batman

World's Greatest Detective
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"

The chanting ceased as the taller man knocked the shorted one to the ground. As his henchman dragged the unconscious one away, the Penguin stood in a corner. He was smoking a cigar, watching the scene unfold underneath the Iceberg Lounge. He was getting the big bucks for the ring, but he was expecting somebody.

"Oi, you had your fight, now buzz off! I'm expecting a visitor and I sure as hell don't him coming down here and seeing you fight your ruddy arses off! Now scram!" he snapped, and the men followed his orders, packing up all of their stuff and leaving, with only his loyal men staying. Penguin smiled. He loved that feeling of superiority.

Penguin looked down at his watch. He should be there any minute now...
 

The Omen of Death

My presence has marked your eventual demise.
Deathstroke wasn't armed with much, very simply only currently carrying his energy lance and a pistol, as well as a knife, as he wasn't necessarily expecting to get into a fight, but Slade was a man that went prepared nonetheless. Word on the street was that the Penguin was hiring a bunch of assassin's to kill Batman, with other rumors spreading that Batman is a vampire, something Deathstroke scoffed at, a load of bullshit to him. Nonetheless, Slade probably already figured out why he was called down to the Iceberg Lounge.

Deathstroke glanced up to see the sign that designated the place, he also took note of people running out with their stuff and whatnot, obviously leaving the Lounge. Deathstroke then walked in the front entrance and the lady up front obviously recognized his appearance and very plainly said. "Ah, you are here, please follow me Mr. Deathstroke." To which Slade simply nodded his head, and followed her.

This led him to a door which would lead him to the underground, where Oswald Cobblepot's criminal empire laid in its lair. At the entrance, a man guarding the entrance stopped Deathstroke there and said. "From here I am going to have to kindly ask you to hand me your weapons, a precautionary measure." Slade narrowed his eye underneath that Orange and Black mask of his, scoffed for a moment and said as he gave him the weapons, and received a patdown. "This honestly doesn't really matter, because if I really wanted to, I could kill you, the Penguin and everyone here with ease even without my weapons." He stated in a condescending manner.

This caused the guard to grow mad at Deathstroke, but before any action could be taken, one of the Penguin's goons came over and said in a nervous tone, "Don't fuck with him man, you are talking to Deathstroke, Deathstroke the Terminator! The World's Deadliest Assassin! He really could kill us all easily if he wanted to, just don't engage him." The guard reluctantly eased off and made room for Deathstroke to move forward smirking ever so slightly Deathstroke made his way down the stairs, and finally made his presence known to the room as well as the Penguin, as he approached.
 

Literally Batman

World's Greatest Detective
"Oi! You're the man they've all been talking about, yes? Welcome to the Iceberg Lounge, mate!" The Penguin showed surprising amounts of charisma, taking the assassin's hand and giving it a shake. Deathstroke towered over Penguin, but he still gave a look of superiority.

"Now, we talking business yet? Or would you rather get situated?" Penguin gestured towards an armchair, next to it a bucket with several bottles of the finest liquors. "I like to show hospitality to all my guests here."
 

The Omen of Death

My presence has marked your eventual demise.
"If my reputation precedes me as such then yes, and thank you for the opportunity." Deathstroke then shook the Penguin's hand back, he took note of the amount of charisma he had, although Deathstroke was slightly irked over the fact that the Penguin had that smug look on his face that oozed a perceived superiority but Deathstroke shook those out of his head, he knew better than to let emotion get in the way of a contractor.

"We should probably get to the point here, I thank you for the courtesy but I would prefer getting to the point of who you want me to kill, make it go quicker for you." But Deathstroke took the courtesy to sit down in the armchair the Penguin ushered him to.
 

Literally Batman

World's Greatest Detective
"Like your attitude. Cutting right to the chase. Exactly why I hired you." Penguin sat down in an armchair facing Deathstroke that was just wheeled in. The room under the Iceberg Lounge was lovely, a tall ballroom with red velvet curtains on the walls, behind which were a variety of drugs, weapons, and other contraband.

"Ever heard of the Batman before?" It was a rhetorical question- of course he had heard of the Batman before. "That's the mark we got here. You see, that Batman of ours is quite the nuisance. He's been running amuck, sinking my business ventures like they're balloons to be popped. Figuring that if I could get rid of him, I could start keeping my businesses afloat. Of course, I'll reward you handsomely for this venture. The Bat is, after all, a tough opponent. But you are the Greatest Assassin, shouldn't be a problem, eh, mate?" He laughed, lighting another cigar. "Whaddya think?"​
 

Scatterbrain

Trying really hard to stay focused
Bruce's brooding was interrupted as a news report appeared on the television screen.

"BREAKING NEWS
Police are urging people to be on the look out for mental patient Carl Kruger who escaped Arkham Asylum, early last night. Professor Kruger, one of the former leading experts in gamma radiation and atmospheric gases, was diagnosed with psychopathy and a narcissistic personality disorder after an altercation at S.T.A.R. Labs concerning a top secret project he designed. He is considered extremely dangerous and should not be approached."

He took a deep breath.

It didn't matter how he felt, the city and it's denizens were on the brink of an abyss and he was the only one who could save them. With renewed purpose, Bruce climbed out of bed and headed for the study with Alfred following closely behind. He approached the grandfather clock and turned the hands.

10:47

He would always remember that.

The grandfather clock opened to reveal a staircase, he stepped inside and the two descended down the stairs towards the Batcave. Alfred had called it that when Bruce first proposed the idea to him and the name had stuck. Originally just a series of subterranean caves, he had fashioned it into a base of operations for his war against crime.

It had medical facilities, a small laboratory, an advanced computer system and a training area but it was still relatively incomplete. He originally planned for the cave to be far more expansive, housing a garage and a hangar for a fleet of vehicles; chief among them a purposely designed automobile, rather than his red convertible, for his activities as the Batman. He had started work on it but had never finished it, leaving the frame and a few other parts sitting in the corner covered by a white sheet.

His transformation had rendered some of his ideas simply unnecessary.

He walked towards the display case which housed his costume and put it on.

"Be careful, sir..." said Alfred.

Walking to the edge of the platform, Bruce grimaced as he sprouted a pair of huge, leathery wings from his back. The process caused him mild discomfort but he would get use to it, it was proving to be an invaluable tool. Beating his massive wings, he dived off, catching the air currents as he fell and flew out of the Batcave and towards Gotham.

"...For he who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster."
 
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The Omen of Death

My presence has marked your eventual demise.
Slade admittedly almost rolled his eye at the fact that it was easy to tell why he was being hired, the infamous Batman... The man who was making criminals everywhere quake with terror, something Deathstroke was pondering over just a short while ago, now Deathstroke was being hired to take him down, this was admittedly going to be an interesting kill.

"Killing Batman shouldn't be too much of a challenge, although I would like to admittedly see him put up a fight, prove all the good stuff about him right since he is supposed to be Gotham's greatest vigilante. Make a contract worth its time, so yes I would be glad to put a bullet in his head for you. And considering the fact that you have accumulated all this money, I don't believe I need to worry about not being paid an amount that is worthy of my services."
 

FireMaiden

Grade A Bitch
Her first collided with her opponent's lower rib cage maybe three tines, before Ava, or Sparrow as she was known there, had to jump back to dodge a kick. The man she was fighting lunnged, obviously rather upset he was being beaten by a girl, so wasn't thinking like he should. Which was just the advantage she was waiting for. Rolling to the left, she brought her knee to his face, where there was a loud crack before the man fell to the dirty floor with a thud.

"Good job Sparrow!" "Yeah, you were great!" Two of her fans came up and said as she filpped through her winnings. About two grand this time, which she quickly shoved in her duffle bag which had her fighting clothes in it. "Uh, thanks guys! And before you ask, no. No pictures," Ava said, walking away. She had to get home before to long, or be locked out of the house. And while she did of course have a key, she just didn't want to have time deal with anything her parents did when they got home.

Leaving abandoned warehouse 13, Ava made a note to keep her taser ready. She had to walk through a rather shady part of town time get hime, which was the edge of this shady part of town. To be honest, she had be saving up to move out to a better part of the city, and closer to the club she worked at. As a waitress of course, not an entertainer or anything like that. She made decent money from that, but not enough. So her fights every few weeks really helped out a lot. She had almost enough saved up for a down payment, first month of rent, and some basic stuff she would need. Best part was, she could move out and never see her parents again. Which was a win in her book.
 
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Literally Batman

World's Greatest Detective
"Oi, so we've already come to terms. Blimey, didn't think it would be that easy to sway you to my side. Ah well." Penguin chortled, standing up and grabbing his umbrella. "You're just gonna roll with what you got? I have some of the best guns you'll ever see in here, but then again, I've seen the work you've done- you won't need 'em, eh?" He laughed.

Penguin buttoned up his coat. "Now, not gonna say you're incompetent or I don't think you're up to the job or anything, but I like things gettin' done quickly." He tapped his expensive antique watch. "As such, I've decided to employ somebody else to help you put the Bat 10 feet under quicker. Come on, boy, come in."

At his words, a massive behemoth of a man appeared. He towered over Deathstroke by a good foot or more, shirtless, covered in green scales. Saliva dripped from his razor sharp teeth as he stared down the mercenary.

"Killer Croc. You'll make good mates, I'm sure," the Penguin said, lighting another cigar.
 

DestinyGuy3712

Elder Member
On the east side of the river near Cartridge Road, the Gotham City Water & Power Plant sat with windows alight. The security guards of the facility patrolled the outside perimeters, bored and unfeeling for their jobs as they talked, drunk coffee and fiddled around on their phones to kill as much time as they could before their shifts ended. The workers, meanwhile, were tirelessly attending to the machinery of the water plant, covered in sweat, dust and grease from the machines. Overall, it was like any other night for the staff of the Gotham City Water & Power Plant... But that would soon change for the worst.

A van would pull up from the road towards the facility, before driving to the back of the building. Having the logo of the Gotham City Water & Power Plant on both sides of it, the van would park in the back of the facility along with the other vans. Once it stopped, a tall man with lean, bony limps would step out, wearing a navy blue suit and a hideous sack made of brown sack over his head. Carrying a small red gas tank with him, the man casually walked to the back door of the facility where a guard stood, playing Angry Birds on his cell phone. Upon hearing approaching footsteps, the guard looked up to see where the noise was coming from, only to be met with the gas tank slamming against his temple and knocking him hard against the door behind him. As the guard slid to the ground, consistence, the lean man looked up to the right-side of the door, seeing that a security camera had watched him knock out the guard. Rather than showing any form of panic, the lean man simply bright his finger to where his mouth was and said, before making his way into the facility like a phantom with sinister motives...

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..."​
 

The Omen of Death

My presence has marked your eventual demise.
"Well, I know that you have the assets to properly pay an amount worthy of my service, and besides I have been wanting to get a good contract lately, so I am being slightly more lenient on this one. Depending on how much I make from this I may not be as lenient on the next occasion you decide to give me call. So consider this somewhat as a discount. And don't worry, I pack my own firepower, all with promethium bullets to boot, so I'd consider myself already prepared for when the need arises. But I like to also call them the means to an end. That is Batman dead in this case."

But when Deathstroke heard the Penguin speak further a frown began to form underneath his mask, what other mercenary could prove to help him like this? Apparently someone the complete opposite of Deathstroke himself. Killer Croc...

Deathstroke simply sighed, as he watched the hulking beast of a man approach, he was a man now turned into a mess of genes piled together to create a massive brute, but someone who was now as much stupid as he was strong. Deathstroke was not phased as Killer Croc looked down on him, Deathstroke knew he could easily take on Killer Croc, with his enhanced intelligence, and other enhanced aspects he could overwhelm him in due time.

Knowing and hearing that Batman was brilliant as well meant he could probably figure a way to incapacitate Killer Croc eventually, but from what Deathstroke knew, Batman has never taken him on before... He supposed that it would be a learning experience for them all... Except for Croc.

"As long as he can follow simple instructions and not fuck something up every 2 seconds we should be fine, I am gonna have to run back to grab my other weapons, since I only arrived here with my Energy lance and a pistol, as well as a knife, if Batman is as dangerous as they say he is, I will probably need to grab my other stuff."

And with that Deathstroke began on his way out, telling Croc.

"If you are eager to get this started just follow me out, we will speak as we leave, I should have a plan by the time we get out."
 

Scatterbrain

Trying really hard to stay focused
The Batman had decided to start his investigation at Kruger's last known place of residence. It would be his best shot at getting a sense of the man and any potential leads. The GCPD would have had the same idea so would most likely have already cordoned of the area whilst they conducted their investigation and have armed uniforms posted outside, on the off chance that Kruger himself may return. The caped crusader knew they would not hesitate to shoot him either should they spot him so he would have to tread carefully.

Frustratingly, the GCPD and him didn't see eye to eye even though their objectives were the same. His reputation, as beneficial as it was against criminals, did him no favours with the police or the general populace at large. He was lucky that most people still considered him an urban legend, though the reality now wasn't that much different.

Before he headed there though, he landed in the East End. He had heard reports of underground fights @FireMaiden and a strange woman @I n t e l l i g e n c e operating in the area so wanted to investigate both matters further. He expected they were linked, most likely one of the fighters, either high or with something to prove, had begun to take out her grievances with the innocent populace. Sticking to the rooftops, the Batman started his search.
 
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FireMaiden

Grade A Bitch
"Oh, shit," Ava muttered as she accidentally dropped her keys. She dropped down to pick them up, yet slowly Rose as she had the feeling she was being watched. She'd be right as well, because not to far from her was her mom's new dealer and one of the guys he brought when she was late with a payment. "Oi these guys," she muttered, stopping to watch him. The man, sleezy on every count and who smelled like every cheap drugstore colonge he could get his hands on. And then, upn seeing the weapon in his lackies hand, her grip on the taser tightened.

" 'Ello me little lamb, how's business for you?" He cooed, stopping in front of her. Ava didn't give him answer other than a cold glare. The man, who goes by Mr. Mei on the streets frowed a little, but quickly smirked again once his friend was behind Ava. "Your mommy has gotten into a bit of trouble lamb, lateon another payment. We decided to...go directly to you for her coverage." He said, crassing her cheek. She scoffed, and swatted his hand away. "I'm not paying you guys anymore. Wait for her to pay you. Now run along, go be a creep somewhere else," she said harshly, shoving past him, only to be quickly grabbed by another lacky. Which made her chuckle.

"You're scared of me, aren't you?" She sneered, but allowed the man to guide her back to Mr. Mei. Who, once he was sure she couldn't do anything, struck her. Though, to be honest, she had been flicked harder than how he just slapped her. It still stung a little because of his rings. She wasthen ripped out of her brief thoughts as the man grabbed her face pulling it close to his.
"You have three options here. Pay your mom's overdue, like you normally do, die, or start working for me. A pretty face like yours," he let his finger trace her side, "would make good money." His face was close enough that she could head butt him.

He stumbled back, holding his now gushing and broken nose.
"Bitch!" He shouted, before making a signal for other lacky with the bat in his hand to have at her. At this moment, Ava knew she had fucked up. But seeing as how he swung low to get her legs first, all she had to do was jump, and the bat hit the man holding her. She then grabbed her bag and keys, and bolted. No way was she gonna piss them off anymore.
 

Demonhunter

Three Thousand Club
Jenga was up to his usual antics, listening to his headphones, chewing bubble gum and singing tha obnoxious tune from that show with the wool sheep puppet. This is the song that never ends. Yes it goes on and on my friends. He pauses to blow a bubble. Some people started singin' it not knowing what it was and they'l continue singin' it just because it is the song that never end-

JENGA FOR CHRISTS SAKE BOY! It's been four hours! Please!
His exasperated father groans through the communicator in his head. His father could turn the communicator on and listen to whatever Jenga was saying from his phone from time to time... Thing is last time he checked Jenga was still singing that god forsaken song.

Im sorry! It's a thing! I have to. It had no end... It just. It's just. there.The android groans, putting his phone to his ear so he wouldn't look like some crazy person just talking to nothing. Anything goin' on?He asks, hoping for something to do.

Eh, Just some spooky business. People getting the shit kicked out of em as usual... Just walk around for a bit. Trouble always seems to find you. although... there is a fight. Pretty girl and some thugs if you want to try that out. Dr. Hawthorn wasn't wrong. trouble did always seem to want to find the android. With that the comunicator clicked off, Jenga was back to obnoxious humming and was heading down an ally way just looking for trouble.

Sure didn't take long to see a girl running one way and thugs coming as well... The little android spat his gum as not to swallow it before deciding he'd fight it. Maybe if he was here to help the girl'd stay and they could go have fun afterwards. Jenga liked fun. He decided to just grab one bug scary guy and shove him into the concrete with minimum effort. Cement facials tended to set people straight. Why you guys gotta be jerks?

@FireMaiden
 
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Lucy settled herself at a table in the nearest coffee stop, and sat there. Waiting. No, no she knew that the great and amazing Batman was looking for her, probably thinking she was some cruel villain for doing what she did. But technically it wasn't her fault that she felt the way she did. It was the cruel beats that played around with her brain and tortured her day after day for hours. They're the reason she scared people. Why she had these specific... Side affects. At this rate, she figured that the male barista had already called the police, and Batman had been alerted. Lucy'd give him many ten, fifteen minutes tops. But then again, the "Hero" seemed to be getting older, and the older you are the slower you become and the stranger and more boring the visions. All that Lucy truly wanted was to be able to uncover some dirty secrets that the bat had hiding, and spill his true colors. Or at least get a sane person to do it, so it'd be more believable to the little goldfish's brains (just a brief side note, Lucy calls normal/mostly sane people goldfish X3).

Lucy was beginning to become bored, and decided she'd play a little game that she and him used to play, that would help her escape. A little game where she'd pretend she was in someone's brain and figure out how they lived their life. She decided to start with the Barista. He did after all, call the cops on her so it seemed fit that she make him suffer. Lucy narrowed her golden eyes are stared silently for a few moments until she finally was in.

I'm a college student.. Fresh out of high school... It was literally a normal factor where Lucy would pretend that she was the person when playing the game, and would usually use terms such as I and Me when thinking. Being a coffee barista is my first job, which I take seriously... maybe a tad to seriously. I'm in a relationship, but it isn't quite a serious one, seeing as I oogle at every single female's breasts the moment they walk into the shop. Most likely cheating on my girlfriend with the sexy chic that'd I say sits in front of you in a math type class or something. Lucy's eyes flickered across the boy's body and frowned, I'd like to call myself a big fan of working out, by wearing all this athletic gear, but really I can barely lift anything heavier than maybe a good 86 pounds. Lucy soon grew bored of the barista and occupied herself with profiling other people around the shop, just waiting for Batman to supposedly show up.
 

FireMaiden

Grade A Bitch
Mr. Mei turned around at the sound of a crack to see his original lacky in the ground with some weird guy holding himself there. He had about enough of these freaks, and reach for his gun, only to be hit in the back of the head with a baton. Ava's baton. She decided to circle back after the idea of, maybe pissing them off more they would stop selling to her mom. It was a long shot since she was their biggest costumer, but still worth a shot. The other lacky had taken off since he had only been hired for the night, which left Ava alone with Jenga and two now unconscious people. Other than that, she smiled at the guy who had given her a distraction. "Thanks for the assist!" Ava said with a bright tone, taking a few steps towards him.

"How lucky I was that you just happened to be in the right place at the right time, oh so lucky," She continued, kicking the side of Mr. Mei's head as he groaned, as of he were about to get up. "Though to be honest, he could have been taken care of with a kick to behind the knees. He's actually rather weak like that." @Demonhunter
 

Demonhunter

Three Thousand Club
Sure Jenga had someone on the ground but... he hadn't knocked em unconscious yet. Jenga's fists were solid titanium with a nice 'skin' and could punch hard enough to shatter cement walls. He avoided punching humans whenever he could. Although he was just sitting on this guy. He lit up with joy as the lady acknowledged him. Acceptance. That's all he wanted. You probably could have. Then again, I don't like jerks. I kinda wanted to-

BANG

Jenga wasn't paying much attention. The lacky he was holding had a gun. And had just shot him right between the eyes.

Warning: Impact detected.
Err: optic scanning, depth sensors... REBOOTING.

Comple-242345 ERR....ERR...

The text was whiling through his ocptic scanners as an overlay of his vision. Although the last bit was confusing. All he knew was his head had been hit pretty hard to the point it'd snapped back rather quickly, and some of his visual sensors were on the frits and now the virus was fucking with his feed back messages so he had no idea what was rebooting and why. Meanwhile the guy under him seemed confused.

He'd just shot a man in the face and instead of blood... nothing. Jenga leans back over him, cracking his fist across his head so hard it not only knocked him unconscious instantly, blood drips from the lackey's nose even though he was hit over the side of the head.
See? Jerks! Jenga groans, standing, rubbing his head. He looked just fine now that the synthetic skin had reformed back to look human.

@FireMaiden
 

Scatterbrain

Trying really hard to stay focused
The Batman had been alerted to a call to police by the receiver in his cowl. There had been a possible sighting of his target in a nearby coffee shop. Leaping from building to building, he quickly made his way towards it before settling down on a rooftop across the street.

From his vantage point, he could see there was a clear divide in the shop. The majority of customers seemed tense and unsettled, even going as far as settling together in one end of the shop leaving the other half empty, aside from one lone woman.

The lone woman matched the suspects description and according to the reports her behaviour was erratic so he didn't want to take any chances. Gliding down from the rooftop, he crashed through the window and into the shop.

@I n t e l l i g e n c e
 
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FireMaiden

Grade A Bitch
Ava was just about as confused as the lacky. Jenga had just been shot in the head, and was completely fine. Not time mention his forehead seemed to fix itself. "Wha-What?" She stammered, "You should be like...dead. What the hell?" She asked, taking a few steps back. This guy was weird. She was thankful for his help of course, but that was shocking. "Wjy aren't you dead? You should be dead, like really dead right now." (It's short, I'm sorry) @Demonhunter
 

Bone2pick

Minority of One
Mr. Freeze

Her bike cycled down to a low purr when she stopped in front of the gate. Long shadows cast by the hazy evening sun stretched across the soggy driveway. Everything was still slick from the afternoon's rain. From behind a pair of mirrored goggles she peeked up at the surveillance camera tracking her. It was hidden inside a nest of tree branches overhead but she knew just where to find it. After a few of uneventful seconds passed she sighed and snatched a smartphone out of her jacket pocket. She thumbed the device until the gate jerked and rattled aside.

The sleek street bike growled as she throttled down the driveway past half a dozen NO TRESPASSING signs. When she reached the parking lot she dialed it back and coasted inside a waiting garage. There she dismounted and walked her bike to an open corner. Then she skipped back out into the lot and clicked a remote in her palm, and the massive rolling garage door rumbled shut behind her. A few brisk steps later she entered her destination—a forgotten (and somewhat ghastly) slaughter house several miles outside of Gotham. Displayed underneath its damp and tattered roof was a moldy sign that read Farmland Fresh Meats.

Once inside she hurried past rows of worktables and tool cabinets, the condition of which—unlike the exterior of the building—were new and orderly. After moving behind a pair of forklifts she reached the gymnasium area. Racks of various weight benches and treadmills were loosely circled around three punching bags. Further ahead, past the exercise equipment, there was a small office with a man lurking in its doorway. Despite being covered by a long sleeve sweat suit it was obvious he was built like a bulldog.

"Who's watching the cameras?" She shot. He turned his hands up apologetically at the question.

"I had just stepped out to piss when you pulled up."

Without acknowledgement she blew by him and approached a row of lockers. She unlocked one with the initials BH scribbled near its bottom and took out a heavy black parka. He retreated back into the office while she slipped into her jacket. After she zipped up she called out to him.

"How's his mood today Cole?"

"Good. I think he finally found a buyer," He hollered back. She reached for a wide opaque tarp suspended over the back wall and shoved it aside like a shower curtain. Behind it was a towering stainless steel freight elevator. She used her reflection in the elevator to equip and adjust a white ski mask.

"Who's the buyer?" She shouted as the elevator whirred its way up to the surface. Cole's murky silhouette took shape in the reflection. Evidently he was back in the doorway.

"He didn't say."

———​

As soon as the elevator doors slid open the scent of ice bit her sinuses. This was his sanctum—the King of Cold. She stepped carefully into the frigid hall and nodded at the guard posted behind the secured chainlink fence. He too was bundled inside a black parka, but his ski mask and gloves were ice blue. There was a shotgun strapped across his back with a film of frost along its barrel. Frost touched nearly everything down here.

"Identity Check," she announced. Each word summoned puffs of wintery mist as she spoke them. She looked down at a display screen setup on the other side of the fence. It was busy running video of snow falling over Gotham City's night skyline. At the sound of her command the snow flakes pooled together at the center of the screen, swirled, and then rearranged to spell the name BIRDHOUSE. The guard, who was viewing another screen behind her, promptly pulled the locking chain off the gate.

His helmet was off. Only down in the icy comfort of his lair did he not require it. His glacial flesh glistened under the soft white lights that illuminated his main laboratory. Adorned in his armored cryo-suit he dominated the room. He was busy taking inventory of vats of highly unstable chemicals when she entered. It wasn't until the scraping of her bootsteps could be heard over his own heavy breaths that he shifted his gaze, and not enough to face her.

"Has he arrived?" His voice, even without the benefit of his suit's modulation, sounded like an avalanche.

"He's at the hotel... With his family."

The servos of his cryo-suit buzzed as he stalked towards her. Every step he took thudded against the floor. He stopped within an arm's-length and peered down at her through his thermal goggles.

"Then we will strike when he's alone."
 
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Demonhunter

Three Thousand Club
Ava was just about as confused as the lacky. Jenga had just been shot in the head, and was completely fine. Not time mention his forehead seemed to fix itself. "Wha-What?" She stammered, "You should be like...dead. What the hell?" She asked, taking a few steps back. This guy was weird. She was thankful for his help of course, but that was shocking. "Wjy aren't you dead? You should be dead, like really dead right now." (It's short, I'm sorry) @Demonhunter
Jenga had forgotten humans couldn't take bullets to the face like that. It kind of scared him for a minute. Was she going to freak out like all the others did? Jenga wasn't that scary... Then again he was capable of being absolutely horrifying. Especially with those teeth should the white covers slip off. He quickly made sure that hadn't happened by pressing his finger to his two front teeth realizing they still looked normal. Well that was a relief.

I'm a bit harder to kill than that!
He laughs as if it were nothing, although he really didn't want to tell Ava what he was. He liked to live in his own pretend world, where he was a normal human boy. Where no one would be afraid of him. Where no one would fear the monster he was doomed to be come... A world in which he'd never change. And he'd like to keep his delusion somewhat realistic for a bit longer.

I'm Jenga He smiles as he stands, brushing himself off and offering a hand to his new friend.

@FireMaiden
 
"Look who finally showed up," Lucy glanced up from her table with a welcoming smirk. "It's been a good twenty minutes since the nice little barista names Riley called the cops for you... You're getting slower Batman." Lucy stayed seated, and stared at him, her golden eyes knifing their way into his brain. "You know, it wouldn't be that hard to just let me into your mind, Batman... just allow me to find out the simple secret of who you are it's not like I'd tell anyone," She forced a pouty and innocent look on her face. Ugh, these regular feelings are making me sick. Lucy thought and allowed for a mere eye roll. She knew very well already that the "hero" wouldn't allow her into his brain, and she'd have to force her way in. Like a Villian.

"Now come on... We can do this easily or not... It's up to you and your petty little brain." Lucy cracked her knuckles for effect but had absolutely no intention of fighting him. Come on, think about that picture. A puny little girl like her compared to a grown man, with the odds not in her favor. It was all just a show in her mind, mere entertainment for the goldfish's usually dreary lives. Besides, it had been a while since Lucy actually talked to the people whose minds she was crawling into, a high functioning sociopath has to at least have a little fun with mind games right?
(sorry this took so long!!)
@Scatterbrain
 

Scatterbrain

Trying really hard to stay focused
@I n t e l l i g e n c e (It's my fault for not tagging you in the first place)

We can do this easily or not? This was a change, it was not often that someone tried to intimidate him. Most people had more sense than that. A padded cell in Arkham was definitely were she belonged.

"My thoughts exactly." The Batman growled. He turned to face the other customers. He could see their eyes were glued to him as they looked on in disbelief at the unfolding scene. "Everyone out!" he roared. Cups and chairs clattered to the floor as they all hurried out of the shop, almost stumbling over each other just to get away from him.

They feared him far more then they feared her.

He turned back to face the woman, glaring straight at her. Raising his hand into the air, he clenched it into a fist before slamming it into the table in front of her. It spilt into two pieces before collapsing to the floor.

"You're coming with me."
 

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