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 Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2018 6:07 pm
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 THE PRESENT
Batman had been on patrol for the last few hours and nothing out of the ordinary or in this case; any super villain freaks were rearing their ugliness to the surface. He figured he would make another pass around Neo-Gotham to be completely sure. If everything was secure, he would then head back to the Batcave. "Hey, you alive?" He joked into the comm. "Very funny." Wayne returned. "It's pretty quiet out here. I'll make one more go around then I'm going to attempt a social life." Batman said.
"Alright..." There was hesitance in Bruce's voice. If it were up to him, no doubt Terry would be out here all night even though absolutely nothing was going on. "One more look and don't forget..." he was cut off, "The old part of town." Batman happily finished. The two were in a solid routine. The symbiosis that develops over repetition and time. It had been years of them working together and Terry felt like his and Bruce's trust was the strongest it's ever been. It took a while for McGinnis to finally find his footing in balancing his life as Batman and his life as Terry McGinnis. A feat Wayne was always either too cynical or too obsessed to try and achieve for himself; so of course, he projected that onto Terry. However, the less Terry shrugged off his responsibilities as Batman, the more Bruce gave him in terms of trust and allowance of balancing his two lives. In many ways, Bruce considered his lack of flexibility his downfall with his former proteges, especially with his second; Jason Todd.
Back in the stony cave that oddly felt like home to all those who have ever hung their capes there, Batman took his cowl off. "It's been over two months like this. I need my riddle fix or maybe even a second shot at Deathstroke." Terry joked knowing it too would go ignored. Bruce per usual was occupied elsewhere facing the monitor. The only sound to escape him was a, "Uh-huh." as he was closing out a program. "In my day, there were plenty of times just like this. The calm before the storm, it allows the psychopaths more time to think up something horrific." Bruce cast his typical glare at Terry and in defense, the younger of the two Batmen rose his hands.
"Alright, alright, no need to shoot dirty looks. I get it, okay." Terry knew almost better than anyone everything Bruce said was to be taken literal. He squinted deep in thought and after a moment would reply. "So basically, what you're saying is, you've had the Bat-computer running algorithms over-time to search for any odd-patterns?" to which was met with another glare as a yawn couldn't help but escape him. "Schway. I'll keep my phone on in case something pops up." Terry said ending another yawn and proceeded to pat Ace's head leaving the room to fully change out of the Batsuit and into his street clothes. He was planning on giving Dana a call seeing as he already had three missed calls from her.
But couldn't help think about Melanie instead. So when he left the Manor, he gave her a call instead asking if they could meet up at their special place.
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Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2018 8:24 pm
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It was quiet all around, even at Deckard’s Kitchen, where a certain Melanie Walker clocked out, yawning as she waved at her coworkers and waltzed out of the establishment. Sure, it was routine, perhaps a little dull, but she wasn’t being uprooted anymore. It was lonely, sure; her family was too stubborn to turn their lives around. Jack’s betrayal and return to a life of crime hurt especially, but that was ancient history.
She received a call, and much to her surprise, it was Terry. They’d walked away on good terms previously in their on-again-off-again friendship and romance, but there was a certain comfort to think he was comfortable reaching out to her again. He’d invited her to their special place, and he didn’t have to remind her, claiming she’d be on her way. Neo-Gotham was known for all its dark corners, but there was a small space overlooking the city that Melanie enjoyed. It had lackluster railing given its height, but she didn’t dislike it. There was a section of park space behind the walkway, but she and Terry always liked to stand by the railing instead. She had fond memories of the place, the way the sun rose from behind the distant buildings, the way the soft breeze liked to prance through her hair, the warm arms of a kindred spirit that used to hold her in the midst of it all. Realizing she was reminiscing too intensely, her heart raced slightly as she walked towards their spot, if she could still call it theirs, anxious yet relieved, worried and hopeful, but looking forward nonetheless to see a dark-haired boy whose blue eyes were always honest.
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Posted: Tue Feb 13, 2018 11:28 pm
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“It was,” she replied with a soft smile, closing the distance between them. It was their small talk, simple and direct; it broke the ice when their lives got too complicated. Her arms were folded, and she rested them on the railing, but turned her head partially to meet his gaze. It seemed almost habitual, but she had a sensual way of posture; her feminine figure curved a certain way, and his eyes never lied when he looked at her. It must’ve been why he always needed to look away when he needed to express displeasure in the past; she took notice. In the past, her lips all too easily met his; she was…spontaneous with her affection, like the first time they kissed, and the second, and the third, and so forth. “I thought you’d be busy, honestly, either with the city or,” her brow rose ever so slightly, a mild displeasure in her tone, “her.” Of course, there was something pleasing about why they were there of all places; Terry knew how the atmosphere made her feel, how her heart pounded in the setting. Her smile was a bit slyer then; there was something about the setting, something about them standing there, together; there was a nostalgia to it, and though she was a little ashamed by how accurately she remembered sneaking into his room one night and distracting him from the phone, there was something so enticing about it. Instead of following suit with some witty remark, she sort of just gazed at him intensely, her body a little stiff when she realized he was in arm’s reach. In her head it seemed stupid. What was the phrase? “Once burned, twice shy”, yet just being within his vicinity made her feel like she couldn’t breathe until they were both short of breath.
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Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2018 10:53 am
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Terry didn’t have to finish his sentence. In fact, he didn’t have to say anything. It happened so abruptly, so naturally; the moment he couldn’t find the words, Melanie found his lips. Her hands held the front of his jacket, closing her eyes as she fell into the intensity of the moment, the strange comfort in being bold or stupid, but affectionate. Was it reckless and impulsive? Perhaps, but she didn’t care. Melanie all too easily forgot the past, throwing it aside to drown in the moment, their moment. “Once burned, twice shy,” only that she wasn’t shy, not at all. Melanie’s lips were desperate almost, scared that they wouldn’t know his if she pulled away for too long. His scent, the sound of his breath, the taste of him; she’d almost forgotten. She stopped for a moment only to catch her breath, but she gazed at him with hungry eyes.
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Posted: Wed Feb 14, 2018 7:02 pm
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He was gentle; there was something to admire when Melanie knew his secret, how the same hand could strike a man down as well as it could push a few strands of hair. Her response was to giggle slightly, leaning into him and resting her head against his shoulder. Entertainingly, they’d been interrupted before; the last time they had kissed (or rather, almost kissed) was in his room, and she distinctly remembered his family coming home, and this time it was a clock, though they certainly weren’t interrupted beforehand. It was calming then; there was never any doubt that they had a certain carnal fascination, how easily she could fall into him, but in the quiet of it all, there was this instance of understanding; no one understood her better. Frankly, she didn’t need an excuse when he slipped away, didn’t demand more than he could give. After all they’d been through, she wasn’t choosy; she was simply grateful to have reconciled with him. “I’ve missed this,” she said plainly. Her eyes were turned towards the city. If someone asked her what she’d be doing that night, she didn’t expect to be there, but there was no place she’d rather be.
For a while she was quiet, but something came up, peering up at him with her icy blue eyes. “We’re a bad idea, you know,” she said, setting her left hand on his cheek. It wasn’t a negative tone, though; playful, actually. In all honesty, they both knew their relationship would be troublesome; a vigilante and a former criminal getting together was bound to test their relationship, but she didn’t seem to mind. When they met, she made a point to mention how things were “now or never” with her; it made her far more straightforward than most. “Promise you won’t fly off?”
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 1:57 am
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How had the greatest enemy of the World's Greatest Detective not only survived all these years, discovered the Detective's identity, AND found his way into his ultra secret lair without any detection? Well, as fun as it might sound that was a story for another time. All that needed to be known right now as that The Joker had made his way into the Bat-Cave, and things were about to get a whole lot happier.
First thing's first, it was time to do what no other man, machine, or alien had ever been capable of. What was it that they had never succeeded in doing you ask? Why, making that poor old sour puss smile of course! That's right, The Joker was here to put a happy face on old Brucey's wrinkly old scrotum face of his.
The Joker slowly, silently made his way to the old man seated in the chair, and pitied him. It was so sad to him that the poor man had gone all these miserable years without so much as a giggle passing through those old frowny faced chapped lips of his. Well, this was it. This was the Joker's pièce de résistance, his magnum opus. The Day the Bat Laughed
It wasn't much of a fight, before the old man even knew what was happening the grip of the Joker's magnum came crashing down across his cranium knocking Bruce to the floor. Bruuuuuceeey The Joker cooed to his nemesis through pursed lips, a gloved hand pulling a crow bar from his dirty, moth eaten overcoat. I'm hoooome!~ Before Bruce could speak the crow bar came cracking down across his face. The Joker laughed maniacally as he continued to beat Bruce senseless, blood and bits of flesh beginning to stain the crowbar as the beatings intensified and began to strip the Detective's skin from his bones. With each subsequent beating Joker's laughter intensified, tears beginning to stain his chalky pale face. How could you do it Brucey, hmm?! The Joker began to ask as he continued to slam the crowbar across the former vigilante's already bloody, and swollen face. How-- HEHE-- H-How could you go.. go and ABANDON ME?! HOW COULD YOU DO IT BATSY?! HOW?! GAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! The Joker raised his crowbar above his head and began to beat the side of Bruce's head with the crowbar, shouting between each subsequent beating. HOW. COULD. YOU. LEAVE. ME?! With the final beating, the crowbar finally shattered through the old man's skull; blood and brain matter spilling all over the floor into a pool about the two men's feet. Falling to his knees, the Joker embraced the limp and bloodstained body of Bruce Wayne; digging his face into the man's chest as tears continued to stain his face, How.. how could you do it Batman? How could you let yourself grow so old? How could you leave me alone? How? Lifting his head from Bruce's bloody chest the Joker stuck to fingers into the gaping whole inside Bruce's head, scooping through blood, brains, and bits of shattered skull to provide himself with materials to paint the man's lips with a smile. The Joker stared down at his masterpiece for a long moment before leaning in to plant a kiss on Bruce's forehead, leaving a bloody lipstain upon it. And now... now you'll never forget me.
After he had finished playing with the, now desecrated, body of Bruce Wayne the Joker had taken to painting" HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" all over the Bat-Cave with Bruce's blood. Once he was finished, the Joker stood over the body of Bruce once more, unzipped his fly and let out a leak onto the limp corpse of his once-greatest enemy. Now, now no use crying over spilled bat-milk. The Joker said as he shook out his remaining fluid over Bruce's face and rezipped his trousers. After all, you're the one that left me remember? Stepping over Bruce's body, the Joker took a seat in Bruce's chair. It's only natural that I'd move on, you can't blame me for that. After all, how could I not? When there's a brand, shiny new Batman running around? Removing a communicator from his coat, the Joker signaled the Jokerz that it was time to move in on Terry. After learning the true identity of the original Batman, it wasn't difficult deduce the identity of his replacement. Out with the old, in with the new; that's what I always say!~ The Joker turned around in the chair to face the large glowing portal on the other side of the cave. Speaking of... Rising from the chair the Joker stepped over Bruce's body once again and made his way toward the portal. Now, now Brucey. There's no reason to be following little, old me! After all, you've already had a long exhausting night and you need your rest. The Joker paused in front of the portal, turned on his heel to face the corpse of Bruce once more and offered him as salute. Well Brucey, it's been fun but unfortunately I've got a train to catch... now, now don't give me that look! We'll have to do this again sometime... except you know... after you're a little less, well... dead. Tootles! With those words, the Joker took a step into the time machine... and was gone.
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 8:45 am
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 "So have I," Terry agreed, with a smile. Her next comment was true. They were a bad idea, but that's what made them work. "I pro-" he started to say. But the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand. Maybe it was the sound of motorcycles all revving in unison or the fact that his wrist-watch was pinging all of a sudden that made his stomach turn upside down. He near went pale himself. He took a firm hold of Melanie's hand and began running towards the opposite direction. Only they were cut off by the arrival of some Jokerz. Terry turned to face the other way and met the same. He was Terry McGinnis not Batman so why were they after him? It wasn't adding up...unless...His eyes doubled in size then. Bruce. Something must have happened. He needed to get to the old man.
But obviously not before he dealt with these bozos. The Jokerz’ bikes were all lined up now surrounding him and Melanie. They carried firepower he wasn't used to seeing them pack. Their leader lifted himself off his bike and started approaching towards them. "What do you want with us? We ain't done nothin'. Stay back." Terry warned, in an attempt to play the role of innocent civilian no matter how late the option seemed to be. "You really take us for idiots don't you? I guess we can't blame you. Fooled us for this long and all this time too. Who would have known?" their glares darkened and Terry backed up some more with Mel behind him. "I got no idea what you're talking about."
"Is that so, Batman?" A drop of sweat formed at the side of his temple and ran down his face. How? was the only thought he had. "HERE WE ARE BATMAN! KILL EM BOYS!" And with that the rest of the Jokerz joined the fight.
Four machine guns and only a handful of Jokerz in the vicinity. He takes a breath, exhales and then leaps out at them. "You never said I had to come peacefully, Dregs!" He shouted as he moved onto the closest Joker holding a gun. The Joker raised his gun fast, but Terry was faster. He elbowed him sending the Joker backwards and quickly pulled the gun from him, tearing parts of the gun rendering it useless. He pulled beads from his jacket pocket and wrapped them around the Joker's neck. He quickly flipped himself around and behind the Joker so he could pull him in a choke hold. The other Jokerz started firing at Terry, but he was using the man he was choking as a shield.
Keep them distracted. Protect Melanie. Contact Bruce as soon as possible. Terry thought as he moved in front of another Joker with a gun. With one hand holding the one he was suffocating, he used the other hand to rip the gun off this other Joker. Terry smashed the end of the gun into the Joker’s head until he went down. Then using his foot as leverage, kicked it into below into the lower levels. Two guns down. A larger Joker grabbed Terry's jacket and was pulling him backwards. He used the railing in front of him to push off a the back-flip, land him behind him, and kicked him forward over the rail. Melanie could handle her own, but she also wasn't exactly prepared. So he kept his focus on her.
"Jokerz know my identity somehow. You need to get out of the cave now." Terry said, opening his shared com-link between himself and Bruce. No response. He tried again. "Bruce, answer me. This isn't the time to be napping or doing whatever it is you're doing." Again, no response. Terry started to fight more aggressively in that moment. "Please Wayne. Say something."
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 12:05 pm
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It seemed perfect, but perfect didn’t last, not for long anyway, ruined by the unsettling sound of approaching vehicles. There were bikes speeding towards them, only getting louder as they neared. Terry grabbed her hand, and the two made a dash for the opposite direction, only to find the Jokerz with an ambush ready. She didn’t understand. What did the Jokerz want? She didn’t have any beef with them, not as Melanie Walker; she couldn’t afford it. Fighting ensued, and though she wasn’t exactly packing her usual gear, she couldn’t just sit back. Damsel-in-distress didn’t suit her, lunging into the nearest Jokerz the instant they made the mistake of focusing too much on Terry. Disarming them was ideal, and Terry managed to get two. Dodging bullets wasn’t out of the ordinary, taking cover when she had the chance, but ultimately closed in to elbow one of two nearby Jokerz, both armed. A guard break followed by an uppercut. The second took aim, but she grabbed the one she struck and pushed him towards the other to interrupt the firing. One behind her managed to punch her right shoulder. She groaned, grit her teeth, and stepped aside, performing a low, sweeping kick to bring him down. The other two moved forward. She stood straight and threw her right fist, but it was caught. Her left kneecap struck him below the groin and a left jab brought him down. Turning only for a moment, she kicked the previous thug between the eyes and he was out cold. The last of the four remained, and though she turned, the bullet came swiftly and grazed her left shoulder. Terry had his hands full just enough then with trying to get in touch with his boss to respond fast enough to the gunner. Melanie let out a groan of discomfort, furrowing her brows and shoving him into the wall. He swung, but she caught his hand and headbutt him, followed by two consecutive punches and her knee, before he fell over. Melanie reached over her left shoulder to stop the bleeding. She was an ex-thief, not a world champion fighter, and unlike Terry, she’d been out of practice for a while.
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 2:08 pm
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Terry's mind raced with many bad thoughts concerning Wayne. He wasn't answering which meant something happened, something bad. His aggression only increased, but he was sloppy, and uncoordinated in his strikes. He held the upper-hand until the sound of a shot fired and his head did a 360 degree to see Melanie was grazed. He lost focus, and paid for it with a swift punch across the jaw. Enough force to put him on wobbly feet which allowed follow up strikes, a punch to his ribs, forearm to his upper back and lastly a knee to his face. He was on the pavement now, scrambling to get back up. Bruce's voice was in his head now telling him to get up and fight back.
He must have been concussed because he knew Bruce didn't pick up before. The voice was too hollow to be real. Still somehow it was doing the trick. More Jokerz approached to continue the beat down. One went for another kick to his abdomen as he was doubled over, but he caught it and slung the clown into the others. They toppled like dominoes and Terry regained his footing. His eyes softened when glancing over towards Melanie who was nursing her wound. He was getting desperate and they were running out of options. Clowns had them outnumbered so he needed to make a choice. He rolled over, retrieving the machine gun, and loaded it. "Get away from her." his tone was serious. His breathing indicated he was gassed. Bruce would be disappointed in him. "Don't make me say it again." the remaining Jokerz rose up to see Terry holding the only gun left and froze in place.
"You're s-s-upposed to be Batman. B-Batman don't use guns." one of them said hesitantly. Terry ignored them and kept his aim on the one closest to Melanie. "Get out of here. All of you. And don't come back." he ordered. Some stood still out of fear while the others thought he was bluffing. He pulled the trigger and a shot rang throughout the levels. He had purposely missed his target but not by a very large margin to show he was very serious. "By now someone will have already called the cops. You can stay here or get a head start. And I promise the next bullet I fire, I won't miss." they scrammed shortly after even the one closest to Melanie. "You, stop." Terry commanded. "We're taking your cycle. You're walking." the goon was about to mouth off back when he realized Terry still had the gun aimed on him.
He too, decided it was best not to engage and just high tail it. Once they were all gone, Terry lowered the gun and tossed it over the railing. He was ashamed to have stooped to that. But what else could he have done? He hustled over to Melanie to take a better look at her wound. He helped her to her feet saying, "Come on. We need to get out of here and get you stitched up." he walked them over to the lone motorcycle and stood it back up. Throwing his left leg over it and allowing Mel to get on behind him.
Sometime later, the pair arrived at Wayne Manor. At this point Terry had been trusting Melanie with everything by bringing her here. He said nothing the entire ride over aside from trying to contact Wayne a few more times. He practically bust through the front doors calling out Bruce's name upon entering. There was a eerie silence. He raced to the grandfather clock which lie behind had been the secret entrance to the Bat-cave and saw it opened already. His brows rose and his heart sunk at the same time. "BRUCE!" Terry cried out desperately. "BRUCE, IT'S ME, IT'S TERRY! I'M HERE BRUCE! PLEASE ANSWER ME!" he raced down the steps with a urgency he's felt once before. Seeing flashbacks of those patrol vehicles outside of him and his father's home, recalling the radios that barked loudly. The nightmare was becoming vivid and before he could fully finish his descent down the cave's steps, he could smell the scent of death just as he did before.
Terry jumped down the remaining flight and went completely into shock at the sight he was witnessing. His throat instantly clogged with emotion he couldn't quite register. Not all at once like this. There was too much to digest. Blood was nearly everywhere. By the time he reached Bruce, he was barely recognizable, a bloody mess. In that moment, a scream ripped from Terry's throat that split the air, causing flocks of bats to lift from the surrounding nooks and take wing. He fell forward, hitting the ground, rivers of red trickling, flowing everywhere. There was so much of it. "Bruce...No, no…don’t…don’t..Wake up..." came Terry's garbled, broken plea to his mentor. The tears were running before he could stop it. His hands were bloody. Terry wanted to know who, why, and forced himself to rise and stare at the cave's walls. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA written in red. But it couldn't be...he was dead. Bruce was sure of it. He watched it happen. A fog had clouded his mind. His skin became paler. Terry worked his mouth but no sound came. He shifted pathetically in the manner of trying to crawl over to him, but what was there left of his person? He had been unrecognizable. Terry just sat there in silent agony.
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 4:32 pm
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As the circumstances pushed them, Terry was forced to do something he’d never wanted to do. Melanie was unsettled; she was angry that so much had gone wrong so soon, worse that her being there made it harder for him to focus on his own troubles. Desperation made them do things they didn’t want to do, and it was a miracle things didn’t escalate, otherwise Terry would’ve had to cross a line he wasn’t willing to. They were alive, one of the few consolations.
The ride to Wayne Manor was a silent one. Her own anxieties filled her head, guilt and concern. There was a small comfort just clinging to him, trying to compose herself as they made their way to the Manor. There wasn’t exactly time for an initiation; she was bleeding, but worse yet Terry was panicked, nervously venturing into the Batcave and crying out for his mentor, only to find a terrifying silence in exchange. She’d wondered what it’d be like there, though she never dreamt it’d be under such awful circumstances. There was one bad thing after another, and it wouldn’t stop at the Jokerz. Someone had gotten to the Batcave first, and they were no friend of Batman’s. Melanie tried to keep up, but she couldn’t afford to be sprinting around. This need to press on was what she focused on to ignore the bleeding wound. She cursed quietly to herself, but her heart felt heavy when she heard the pain in Terry’s voice. First there was silence, then there was disbelief, confusion, terror, agony, then silence once more. The horrific site of a savage murder; Bruce Wayne was dead. If not for the residence, she wouldn’t have even recognized him. Her right hand met Terry’s shoulder, consoling him as best she could. “Terry…” Her lips started at what would’ve been a sympathetic sorry, but it’d take much more to overcome. Worse yet, the fact that the Jokerz knew he was Batman meant his family was in danger.
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2018 5:22 pm
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The minute Terry decided to take the night off was the same minute in which he condemned Bruce's life to this fate...Or maybe Bruce made that choice a long time ago by gliding into this life in the first place? Is this where his life was heading? An inhumane home invasion only to be murdered after years spent of fighting crime. Fighting the good fight and keeping criminals off the streets. For what? More dirt bags to try and make a bigger name than the last? There was always going to be someone wanting to create a bigger explosion, a bigger name for themselves, someone who wanted to go down in history as Gotham's most feared.
These are the thoughts that Terry came to face in Bruce's death. Melanie arrived at his side finally. She touched his shoulder, but it didn't stop the hurt, and pain. He wished he could've been here. He didn't even know how this was possible. He was supposed to be dead. Bruce said so and he wouldn't lie about something like that. The only way is if he didn't know himself. Terry turned hearing Melanie's voice and buried his face into her letting it all out. His cries were muffled by her closeness.
5 minutes later...
He was trying to keep his hand steady while stitching Melanie's left shoulder. He hadn't said much of anything after balling his eyes out to her. He was just glad she was there with him. Finishing, he took a gauze out and wrapped it around her tight as possible. She would be fine unlike Bruce. He rose from his knee and looked at the walls again. He should probably call in Commissioner Gordon, let her know what happened, and come up with a story. If he did, Bruce would be outed as the Batman and the clues wouldn't be too hard to piece together he was his successor. So he held off for now. He walked around the cave looking for any trace left by the Joker. He thought like Bruce would in this situation. The first was the why? Why would the Joker kill Batman? It was practically against his own 'code' if you could call it that. Then it hit him. Bruce wasn't Batman and had not been for a very long time.
This death was personal, the clown was angry, the scene itself could be described as someone wanting revenge as deranged as that sounded. Terry continued to put clues together in silence. The walls were painted in crimson. Dead end. That's just Joker being Joker. It smelled terrible in here and not just because someone was recently murdered. It reeked of urine. Terry frowned, and headed over to the Bat-computer. "Computer. Replay security footage for the cave tonight with audio. Go back forty-five minutes." he assumed the murder had taken place recent but not like he just missed him or anything. The Jokerz were no doubt diversions meant to keep Terry away while Joker did this. He sat in the chair and in front him was the Bat-computer playing it's footage of the cave. He sped up at places that were irrelevant and slowed when the Joker entered the frame.
He watched the entire murder without as so much as a glance or wince. His face was intense. The pain subsided and taking it's place was turmoil like anger. It festered as Terry's glare darkened. The hue of the screen reflected off his face as he leaned for a closer look. Specifically to see what Joker did next after desecrating Bruce's corpse. To think the clown sat in this very chair made Terry want to burn it. His face turned grim and his fists tightened. However something that did take Terry by surprise was Joker's decision to use the time machine. Something that even Terry forgot to consider. He quickly stood up and moved to where the machine was and looked at what time Joker ran off to.
"I know where he's gone." Terry said, speaking aloud for the first time since finding Bruce's body. "I have to go after him." he added. He was acting for the most part on emotion, impulse, and guilt which would only get him killed. But he didn't care. He went over to where the suits were kept and retrieved his, beginning to undress and change into costume rather quickly.
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Posted: Fri Jun 08, 2018 12:20 am
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Again, there was silence; she kept still and guessed at his thoughts, but respected that he needed to think; moments of quiet would be hard to fine sometimes. When they finished, she patted her arm, and gave him a quiet nod that she’d be okay. He broke his silence, saying what she hoped he wouldn’t, but knew he would. “We have to go after him,” she replied. Her brows furrowed, speaking more sternly, but slowly turned from persistence to fear. “I’ve lost a lot. If I lost you too, I…” His mentor would probably want him to tell her no, to not endanger her, to put the mission first, always, but at the same time, part of him would likely know by now that she wouldn’t take no for an answer, reaching into her things. Despite everything, they’d endured,
Her life wasn’t as great as she pretended it was; there were too many days with overdue payments, struggling to get by with tuition and living expenses, but she wouldn’t dare ask him for credits. It was always easier to turn back to crime, that old life practically asking her to return to it, but she turned her demons down, because one of the few comforts she had left would walk away if she did. He was one of the few good things she had going, and she’d be damned if he turned out the same way as his mentor, worse still, if he was alone then.
In her bag, she reached for something she wasn’t expecting she’d ever have to: her old costume. In truth, she planned on getting rid of it many times over, to throw the past away and bury it someplace no one would ever find it, but part of her needed to remember, and become a better person for having done so. Now, however, she had the chance to do something good with it. Melanie stripped off her clothes, her shirt already having been ruined earlier anyway, and slipped into the black, white and red ensemble, leaving the mask for last. Wherever he was going, she would follow. Sometimes, the world was dark, and it was easy to drown in all of the problems, but she would be his anchor.
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