Batman watched as a handful of goons carried some crates inside. He was able to use the shadows to his advantage; he slipped down from the roof, landing quietly on his feet, using his knees to absorb the shock. With their backs turned and attentions generally dull either way, Batman was able to sneak through the entrance with fluid ease, trailing behind the goons with crates. He kept to the shadows, using his longtime ally to his advantage. He remained out of sight, out of their knowledge. He would've made a move but there was someone who stood out among the pact. Not to mention he was still unsure what these saps business had been here in the first place. The man in question was standing watch presumably for him. Touching, really. But that's not what peaked his interest abut them. It was the whole get-up. The bulky armor, with orange accents, and lastly, the gruff voice. Terry didn't want to ask for fear he'd get the very much so beat-to-death, "I told you to study" lecture. But he couldn't help it. Besides, his eyes were Bruce's eyes. Meaning he was already clued in and probably just waiting for Terry to ask. Wayne was after all, the old man who donned this costume and several others like it before him. The original Dark Knight. And as so many other criminals liked to remind him---the only true Batman.
Which was fine with Terry. Under his belt were three long years as Neo-Gotham's newest Batman. And contrary to popular belief, he didn't strive to be like his predecessor before him. He liked being Batman--hell--he loved being Batman whereas Bruce didn't. Probably why things ended up the way they did for him. Terry enjoyed knowing he was making a difference even if it always didn't seem like it. God knows this city needed it. Crime was at it's worse and that in itself was saying something if you knew Gotham's reputation. "You seeing who I'm seeing? That can't be him, right" While waiting on an answer from his mentor, Terry managed to be spotted by one of the crate carriers. Something Bruce would no doubt reprimand him about later. "It's the Bat. Kill him!" Crap. Too sloppy. Thought McGinnis as he prepared to fight several thugs, all whom were bounding toward him to exchange fists. It was cute really. Almost as if he was the prettiest girl at the dance and all the guys wanted to dance with him. Slamming and pushing into each other just to be first. Heck they even lined up making it all the more easier to take them out.
Two attempted to strike him at the same time and he activated the suit's camouflage to go completely invisible for the time being, ducking the blows."Sorry fellas. Gotta be quicker than that." he retorted to the pair, leaping up and slamming each's big stupid heads into one another causing them to fall hard shortly after. "Two down." he said, becoming visible again, arms crossed. It didn't hurt that one of the suit's capabilities included a big buff in strength. Worked a ton in his favor when facing goons two times his size. That and they usually underestimated him. Making their embarrassment all the more satisfying.
It was around this time that he'd been enjoying himself did Wayne's voice fill his ear. "Slade Wilson. Alive and well it seems. You'd be a fool to attack him head on, McGinnis. Even with your training you're not ready. Proceed with caution." Batman unfolded his arms taking that into consideration. "What's that supposed to me--" Only unfortunately he'd now been sent crashing to the floor after being tackled from behind by one of the numerous fodder. "At least buy me dinner first." he muttered, rolling over to kick the guy from atop of him and into one of the many crates smashing through on impact. By this time, more came scurrying, this time with guns pointed his way and aimed on him. "I think we all got off on the wrong foot. He totally started it." McGinnis sarcastically commented, his hands held high to show he was 'unarmed'.
Enough!A voice boomed throughout the warehouse; the armed thugs lowering their weapons and stepping aside to clear the way for the individual who had barked the order. Deathstroke walked forward, brushing past the thugs. The Assassin halted several feet from Batman with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, fists clenched as his single blue optic looked him up and down. Slade picked him apart, his build, his stance, his voice, his attitude; needless to say, Deathstroke was unimpressed.
So, you're the new Batman I've been hearing so much about.Deathstroke began, taking another step toward the Dark Knight; his brows narrowing as he locked his gaze with the vigilante. I must say, I've been looking forward to meeting you... Even took this job solely for the opportunity.Slade's lips tugged into a smirk from beneath his promethium helmet, gesturing around him with both arms as he spoke.I must admit, however, I'm thus far not impressed. For instance, had this been him none of these men would still be standing.Deathstroke shook his head as his arms fell to his sides once more, once more continuing to advance on the Bat's position.So, tell me boy. Why is it that you inherited the Bat's mantle? What makes you so special? All those birds - all those loyal children he had serving him for all this time... and he entrusts his legacy with a nobody... Can't say I understand it.
Slade looked over his shoulder toward the thugs, waving them off.I'll take care of this, you all have a job to do.the thugs hesitated, looking to each other and whispering among themselves. I said GO! Slade shouted, startling the thugs as they began to scatter. Deathstroke turned back to Batman, both his arms reaching back to take hold of the twin swords he carried and unsheathed them.Then again, I suppose it's not my place to understand it... heh, pity. I was really hoping I'd receive a challenge this evening.Deathstroke bent his knees and entered an offensive stance; holding both his swords at the ready Slade shifted his form slightly, his gaze never leaving his opponent's as he assessed his next course of action. It was then that without warning Deathstroke rocket forward. The Terminator was fast as a torpedo, with the all the power of one as well.
Slade bounded into the sky, and performed side-flip over Batman's head. With a heavy thud Deathstroke landed behind Batman, his back turned to him as he sent the blade of one of his swords under his armpit and straight toward the Bat's exposed back. In one fluid movement, Slade brought his other blade around and aimed to decapitate the bat as it traveled at staggering speeds toward his throat. Deathstroke didn't stop there, however, his final assault came in the form of a powerful round-house kick directed square for Batman's chest. If this kick managed to connect it would send the vigilante spiraling across the room and into a nearby stack of crates, as well as potentially shattering several ribs in the process.
Batman watched as the armed lackey's all made way for Deathstroke. Even Terry had to admit, seeing the infamous assassin up close was surreal. He'd read most if not all the files Bruce kept on his rogues (not like he had a choice in the matter) but rarely got to meet any. Mainly because they were either dead or too old to still be up to their old tricks. Deathstroke didn't know it but he was up there with Joker and Condiment King of the people Terry wanted to meet. Upon listening to what Deathstroke had to say, he couldn't help but make his witty remark. "You mean to tell me you spent your Saturday night babysitting these bozos all in the hopes of meeting me? I'm flattered." Batman said in return. "What can I say? We have different strategies." a smirk appeared on his lips then. "You know birds. Open the cage door and they just go flying off." Bruce was in his ear but Terry had been enjoying this far too much. Getting the chance to banter with Slade Wilson was rare and something he just couldn't pass up on. "Now you're just being mean." he commented, carefully assessing the assassin as he now revealed two twin swords.
"Can you believe I'm about to face off with the Terminator?" Terry said to Wayne. Watching as Deathstroke took charge, aiming to maim likely. Terry brought his shoulder forward with his fists balled and arms high ready to combat the Terminator. When Deathstroke surprisingly leapt up flipping overhead. Before he could turn, he was already on his feet. He was quick and then some. The feeling of the blade swiping at his suit was painful and it made him wince. Instincts kicked in however as he just barely ducked the oncoming swipe that would have been his beheading. He turned around now about to send a right hook his way only to be halted by the much faster roundhouse sending him crashing into the crates. "Oka..y... gotta...admit. He's cough good...Broken rib..for sure.." At this time, Bruce was barking in his ear to get up and defend himself. "Focus, McGinnis. Your wisecracks and jokes won't get you out of this one. Slade Wilson is your greatest challenge yet, your mind needs to be clear. Utilize everything in your arsenal, everything I've taught you. He will give you the fight of your life." Terry wanted to but he needed a moment. "Yeah, I'm starting to see that."
He staggered back up to his feet and wiped his mouth where blood was drew. "Alright, GI Joe. Let's dance." He activated the rockets in his boots and flew toward Deathstroke at great speeds in attempt to dive right into his armor and plant several punches to his chest and face. If successful, he'd also assist in commentary. "You're a relic of the past. Should've stayed in whatever retirement home you were put in."
Deathstroke was caught slightly off-guard by Batman's rocket boots; his crystal blue eye widened as he moved to retaliate - but he was too late. By the time Slade could adjust his stance to counter the coming onslaught Batman was already on top of him. The first punch the vigilante threw landed, hitting Slade square in his jaw and sending him back a couple paces. The second was directed at his chest, and that landed as well forcing Slade back a few more paces as well as causing him to lurch over slightly, knocking the wind out of him.
"You're a relic of the past. Should've stayed in whatever retirement home you were put in."
Slade gritted his teeth at the comment, his blood beginning to boil. Normally, the snarky quips of a boy weren't something that would phase the Assassin. Admittedly, however, there was an ounce of truth to his words. While Deathstroke's healing factor did greatly decelerate his aging it did eventually catch up to him. Slade was old, and he could feel it. His once seamless connection between his brain and his movements was blurred, and certain actions were much harder to perform than they once were. That being said, these weren't weaknesses that many knew about. And, if Slade had his way, things would remain so.
Deathstroke's free left hand snapped up to catch an incoming punch from Batman, the force of his attack causing Slade's boots to skid across the room until he finally managed to bring them to a halt.You talk big game, boy.Slade commented through gritted teeth, his silver brows pinching together into a glare beneath his helmet.But somebody ought to have told you to stay in the Nursery School!Deathstroke took a swing at Terry with his promethium blade, aiming to slash him vertically across the chest. The attack wasn't fatal, but it would tear like hot butter through his suit and leave a nasty scar - it would also hurt like Hell. Following this motion, Slade would use his enhanced strength to spin Batman around and toss him into another nearby stack of crates. Slade slowly stepped forward, gazing down at his foe. Everything in Deathstroke's thoughts told him to end him right then and there, until a voice in his communicator interrupted his blood lusted thoughts. The Terminator paused and listened, before nodding and bringing to fingers to the side of his helmet. Understood. I expect to see my payment in full transferred to my account within the next hour. Slade lowered his hand, his gaze never having left Batman this whole time.Be thankful I wasn't hired to put you down, kid. The Terminator hissed, before turning his back to him and walking away.Next time you won't be so lucky...Deathstroke continued to walk away, turning his head over his shoulder after putting a good distance between them.'Til then...with those words, Deathstroke threw a smoke-pellet to the ground and was gone.
Seeing and feeling his fist go into the jaw of Deathstroke was a near un-describable sensation. And a little scary. Terry felt as if he'd been thrown in the deep end with no swimming lessons prior and was handling himself pretty well. Couldn't wait to rub that one in old man Wayne's face. Caught up in his thoughts, the minor distraction cost Batman as a slash across his torso showed. It also as intended - hurt like a b***h. Before he could retaliate against it, the one eyed assassin would take him and throw him once more into a stack of crates. It was the worst game of bowling ever. Him being the ball and the crates, well, you get it. Terry crashed with a loud thud as pieces of wooden planks exploded everywhere causing debris to cloud the area. Terry sat there coughing in the pile of it all. "Okay so maybe not a good idea calling you a relic."
"Understood. I expect to see my payment in full transferred to my account within the next hour." Batman stood up again and met eyes with Deathstroke fully prepared to take him on again. "Be thankful I wasn't hired to put you down, kid." He rose a brow under his cowl, a small sigh somewhat relieving him. Quickly hiding such with a quick quip of his own. "Yeah! Well, I-I had you on the ropes." Horrible McGinnis horrible thought Batman as he shook his head to the sides face-palming himself and using his cowl's built in infrared vision to see if Slade was anywhere. After confirming he was indeed long gone by now, he turned and remembered the man in his ear who would soon comment. "Look I know what you're going to say. But could we for once skip the performance review? I'm beat. It's Saturday night and I haven't had a break all week." He waited listening for a response on the other side. There was a long pause. "All right.." said Bruce on the other end. "I mean think about it. I'm basically Batman 24/7. I'm just asking for one n--Did you say all right?" a puzzled McGinnis asked. "Take the night off. We'll pick up tomorrow." Terry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Elated by the news, he said his goodbyes and ended the com-link.
"Schway! First I get to fight Deathstroke and now I get the night off. I must be dreaming. I outta head home and catch some Z's before Bruce changes his mind." Batman said to himself, using his rocket boosters to rocket off into the distance over the Industrial levels and nearer to home after awhile of gliding over Neo-Gotham. Eventually he arrived and landed in the back of their place and climbed inside of his window. Outside of his room, he saw light underneath the door and heard the sound of his brother, Matt's voice calling back to their Mom about retrieving Terry for dinner. He had about sixty seconds then. Knock, knock, knock. "I heard her squirt. I'll be out in a sec'." Matt frowned at being called a squirt and stuck out his tongue. "Buhlayhh!" he mocked and Terry would respond with the same. Then finish dressing himself back into his casual black tee, paired with his gray pants. Motioning to at last turn on his room light. The darkness was fine for Batman but for Terry, it was beginning to be a bit much.
Santiago Campos
You're free to come in anyway you want going forward.
Posted: Wed Jun 28, 2017 4:57 pm
Bart Thawne
What came next would feel like déjà vu, as a familiar blonde quietly sat at his window, glancing out at the city with her bag at her left. It was the same turquoise eyes, the same dark lipstick, the same locks of platinum blonde hair, the same black top and cerise skirt that traced her sultry figure. Her knees were pulled up, fair legs warmed by the black of her boots, and she seemed to raise her head slightly when he glanced her way, tense but trying to compose herself. It had been a while since their last meeting. Her last words to him were, “I guess you can’t change people’s minds.” He had accused her of theft then, and the amount of hurt she felt when he doubted her intentions brought more heartache than she was ready for. He had walked away, and she couldn’t ask him to stay, not after the things they’d said.
It was hard to look at him. In the past, she had a tendency of looking down, afraid to speak her mind, only for him to pull her head up and reassure her, but she managed. He was probably angry, astonished, upset—nothing and everything. “Hey,” she said, a basic greeting, though he may not have understood how hard it was to confront him. In the past, before their breakup, he came to her, having arrived at Deckard’s Kitchen to offer her coffee; the sort of joy she found when she saw a second chance brought some light into her life, and for a time, it felt like everything would be okay again, but that was then. Now, she was so unsure. In truth, she wanted him to yell at her, send her away, tell her she never wanted to see her again, find some closure, yet she didn’t; the very thought frightened her to death, but her face wouldn’t show it yet. She wasn’t even certain why she came anymore; she had lost her conviction several minutes before he entered the room, but she needed to hear it from him.
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Posted: Sat Jul 01, 2017 4:40 pm
After hearing Matt's footsteps departing down the hall, Terry would turn and lean against the door. Eyes closed while he let out a sigh. "Don't let this double life get to you, McGinnis. You got this. Just take a deep breath and..." Terry stopped when a more than familiar voice interrupted his train of thought. He snapped open his eyes and just as imaged in his mind- there Mel sat. "Hey" was the shortest but longest word ever then. Which raised another question. "Hey! Is that all she had to say? After all this time?" Terry's dark brows grew closer to each other as if he was about to chew her out but suddenly his eyes softened. "I asked for one night, Universe. One night." he thought, glancing up then back at Melanie. "Hey yourself, Stranger. No offense but you're the last person I expected to show up. So forgive me if I'm a little crude when I ask; what are you doing here?" Terry asked in a low but serious tone.
Santiago Campos
Posted: Sat Jul 01, 2017 5:30 pm
Bart Thawne
It was funny how history repeated itself, because she asked him the same thing when he came to Deckard’s Kitchen, but the atmosphere was different. “I didn’t want to be a stranger, Terry, you know that, but what else can I be if you don’t even trust me?” However, the anger subsided as she sighed. It was that night when he walked away surfacing in her head again. After the incident with her mother and Inque, Terry accused her of stealing Two-Face’s coin. Where it had been all that time was uncertain, but he had been so quick to consider her responsible. It wasn’t even about the coin; it was about trust. It hurt when he accused her, but—having given it thought—she couldn’t quite blame him, not after her own poor decisions. She looked out the window. “Maybe coming here was a mistake, and maybe I’m just stupid, but we were something once, and I don’t want you to remember me as someone I’m not. I’m not my family; I’m just…me. I thought you knew that, but after everything that’s happened, I don’t know anymore.” Melanie turned his direction. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me you don’t care about me anymore, that you want me to leave,” she had to compose herself to handle the weight of her emotions, “and you’ll never see me again.” She set her hand on the window, ready to leave as soon as he asked her to. As much as she cared about Terry, and as much as she prayed he would ask her to stay, she had to face the facts. If he didn’t have any faith in her, there was no point in staying. She needed to know, because—once upon a time, a foolish boy met a foolish girl outside a busy dance club and found they were kindred spirits who felt they didn’t belong, except when they were together.
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2017 3:58 pm
"I guess you can't change people's minds." Were the last words he heard from her in person. After taking down Inque and the Queen of the Royal Flush Gang, literally, via the gang's submarine base. Terry recalled reconnecting with Mel shortly after having spoken to Barbara Gordon about Two Face's missing coin. Seeing as neither of the other the parties involved had the coin on their persons, it prompted him to look at another with motive. And a fishy past. In hindsight, it maybe wasn't the best route to take but could you really blame him? Not like it was the first time he's been burned by Melanie.
"It's not that simple, Mel... It never was. You know that. It's just.." he started to say, looking at her then glancing away as she began to tell her side. Eventually he turned back to face her and closed his eyes, reopening them to look at her. "I can't. And I'm sorry for before. I should've given you the benefit of the doubt. But at the time, Bruce and so many things..." he shook his head to the sides. "No, you're right, you're not your family. I know that now and I should've taken it into account before. I want you to stay this time. Like I should've been big enough to tell you before." Terry told her honest. He didn't want to end up like Bruce and knew if he didn't express how he really felt now then this could be his last chance. He refused to let that be the case.
Santiago Campos
would probably add to this later. Sorry if it's short.
Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2017 4:42 pm
Bart Thawne
When he started speaking, she turned away, as if she wasn’t ready to hear him tell her to leave, but then he didn’t. Her eyes widened in astonishment. For a few moments as he spoke, she felt her heart grow heavy, and she blinked as if she wasn’t certain she was hearing him correctly, like she had forced herself into a dream, but it wasn’t. She turned his way, still wearing her look of disbelief, and—by the spur of the moment—stood from the window and ran to embrace him. While she couldn’t figure out what to say to save her life, she could hug him, and nothing else felt more right. It was so hard walking away from her family, and even harder to face the fact her brother had turned on her when she gave him a chance at a normal life, but the hardest thing was watching Terry, perhaps the first person who seemed to understand her, walk away. Now that he was back, there was a shimmer of hope, a chance—however small—that everything was going to be okay, because she wasn’t alone, not anymore. All that time she spent angry at him for how she felt, she was anxious yet brave, weary yet hopeful. Melanie was, after all this time, content, just to stand there and know Terry hadn’t abandoned her. That odd scent of leather, sweat, and hastily-applied cologne, as if he’d been somewhere new every night, yet she didn’t care to ask; she was just happy to know it again.
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Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2017 5:13 pm
Terry embraced her in his arms and held tight not wanting to let go physically or mentally. Feeling as if they had been hugging each other for an hour. Both obviously needing the other. He probably wouldn't have broke away had it not been for the sudden knock and abrupt entry into his room. He turned and saw his Mother with a face of shock turned slight embarrassment. He didn't know why she looked that way. His cheeks turned a light pink and Ter' didn't know whether it was the body heat from Mel that was making him feel warm or the room in general. Probably both. " Oh. Um.. Excuse me. I thought I would let you know...dinner. Well, you know. There's plenty if your friend was staying." informed his Mother, who not long after re-shut the door. Terry nodded, and turned his head back to Melanie with a grin. "Great. Now I have to explain that later. Are you hungry? It's Saturday so that means it's taco night." he asked, leading the way to the door grabbing it's knob and ready to turn it again. "Unless there's something else going on you haven't told me about?"
Santiago Campos
Posted: Mon Jul 03, 2017 6:05 pm
Bart Thawne
When the door opened, her cheeks flushed as if she had just been caught committing a crime—not that it crossed her mind. For the first time in a while, she laughed, amused by their humorous yet oddly pleasant predicament. Now that she thought about it, she never formally met Mrs. McGinnis, but she was relieved to have been invited over to eat. It could have been far more awkward. Her experience with family was complicated, he knew that, but missing out on the opportunity to meet his wasn’t a mistake she was willing to make. Terry was on board as well, but first confirmed if she had to do anything else. She shook her head and wore a smile, the same smile she wore when she told him she’d be on board with talking to him if he threw in a slice of pie at Deckard’s Kitchen a while back. Her eyes peered down at his shirt for a moment, then back up at his eyes saying, “There isn’t anywhere I’d rather be right now.” She playfully punched his shoulder, however, just so her heartfelt words—which held more than she was willing to admit—wouldn’t be something for him to fret over. True, there were still feelings she had, feelings she had buried. To think Terry McGinnis could still make her feel like a hormonal teenager, but she was satisfied with just being a friend for the time being, just pleased to be in the same room together without feeling regret. She wasn’t even sure how to approach the topic of his love life, or if she still had a place in it. She didn’t want to push it. Melanie hadn’t forgotten about Dana, and out of respect, she wouldn’t let her hands get carried away without knowing. The dinner was a decent topic to push them along, thankfully, so that’s what she’d use. “I’m warning you, though. I haven’t eaten since my break—hours ago. But let’s not keep your mom waiting,” she said, tilting her head towards the door, taking his hand. The little things mattered, the touch of a hand, one she hadn’t felt in a while. For once, things felt right; she wasn’t about to screw it up, not this time.
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Posted: Tue Jul 04, 2017 10:04 am
Terry kept staring into her blue eyes wearing that same goofy grin on his face. "Schway." he at last commented. Then taking his eyes off Mel as he made his way to the door, opening it for the two of them to exit. He'd trail behind her and shut the door. As he followed, he directed her to the kitchen which was down the hall past the living area. Matt was already at the table chowing down. He cleared his throat in hopes of receiving his family's attention and when they turned, they saw himself and Melanie. "Mom, Matt, this is Melanie. She's a old friend of mine. And Mel, this is my Mom and twip of a little brother." Terry said, introducing them. "Ooooh. Terry has a girlfriend. Terry has a girlfriend." Matt practically sang as McGinnis did his best to hush him up. "Shut it, twip. It's not like that." he cut an eye back to Mel then. He wasn't with Dana and still very much had feelings for her but he didn't want to move too fast and mess things up.
"Oh stop it you two. We have company. Act your ages. I'm sorry, Melanie. Please take a seat. There's plenty to go around." Mom intervened and the two brothers put aside their differences for now. Terry led Melanie over to an empty chair at the table beside him and sat down just as three plates were being set on the table courtesy of his Mother. "Dinner looks great, Mom." he told her, his good mood showing through his words. They had a variety of choice; soft shelled or hard. Matt obnoxiously clamped down on the hard shell making a bunch of noise which made Terry shoot a glare his way. The brat ignored him and continued at a lowered volume. Terry passed a plate to Melanie and smiled. After refocusing his attention back to his own plate beginning to dine in. He hadn't ate since breakfast.
Santiago Campos
Posted: Tue Jul 04, 2017 12:19 pm
Bart Thawne
Instead of just outwardly complimenting the food initially, she let her expressions do the talking. True, Matt’s comments, both open and hushed, made her a little uncomfortable, but Terry and his mother did well enough to sway the topic back to their actual meal, which—upon her first bite—was delightful. “It’s delicious, thanks for having me,” she said, trying to be polite. It meant a lot to her, really. For one, she wasn’t eating alone. Melanie had friends, naturally, but her own troubles had barred further intimacy. Terry was there, and his family, even Matt’s banter, was welcoming. Matt vaguely reminded her of Jack, that same knack for trouble, but Matt had a good mother and a great brother to guide him; if only she could have said the same about her own family. Whatever feeling of depression was quickly replaced by the satisfaction of the meal, each bite making amends for having not eaten in a few hours, though Terry seemed especially hungry. If he turned at all to see her observing, she’d just laugh.
Decades from Now.
