Gotham's Story
You work alone. Now the police see you as a criminal and they hunt you every night. Your skills are pushed to the limit, but you have reached inside yourself and discovered a steel that can withstand this exertion. Tonight you hunt a murderer who has been terrorizing Gotham, your city. The sociopath has dressed as a clown and recruited a mass of deviants who do his bidding. He calls himself the Joker.
When you found his hideout, he sent a dozen of his goons to assail you, but they were no match. They only served to give that monster a sixty second head start. You watch him run from your vantage place on the rooftops. When your shadow covers the moon, the Joker trips and falls on his face. The fool. He has no power, no skill, he just has madness. He has depravity. He has the lives of innocents in his hands. You throw a line to bind his legs so he cannot run away, and he just laughs. The madman. He doesnt deserve to live.
Quicker than you expect, he throws a knife at your neck; you can see its razor sharp edge reflected as it flips through the air. You are fast enough and you could catch the blade, but you choose to knock the blade away. By random chance- or perhaps a subconscious effort- the blade reflects to imbed itself in the Joker's chest.
You watch the light go from his eyes.
Sirens sound around you. You look around the alley for a quick escape. The buildings you stand between are not too high and not too far apart, so you leap from wall to wall until you reach the roof.
Police cars surround the building.
"Take off the mask and come down!" you hear a voice through a megaphone yell. Detective Yinsen, you think. With her are a score of officers who have pistols and rifles aimed at you. You almost smile. None of that will get through through the armor in your suit and their aim will be lousy from this angle. Instead of surrender, you pull out a concussion batarang to stun them long enough for you to get away.
A shot rings out.
Blood blossoms on the front of your suit.
Cold spreads in your body.
An armor piercing round? No, no, no no one down there had that kind of ammo. Then you see a glint of steel from the rooftop above you to the left. Comissioner Gordon stands up holding a sniper rifle. Of course; Gordon's military training. Clever old man.
You slip to your knees as your vision fades to black.
Clever old man...
When you found his hideout, he sent a dozen of his goons to assail you, but they were no match. They only served to give that monster a sixty second head start. You watch him run from your vantage place on the rooftops. When your shadow covers the moon, the Joker trips and falls on his face. The fool. He has no power, no skill, he just has madness. He has depravity. He has the lives of innocents in his hands. You throw a line to bind his legs so he cannot run away, and he just laughs. The madman. He doesnt deserve to live.
Quicker than you expect, he throws a knife at your neck; you can see its razor sharp edge reflected as it flips through the air. You are fast enough and you could catch the blade, but you choose to knock the blade away. By random chance- or perhaps a subconscious effort- the blade reflects to imbed itself in the Joker's chest.
You watch the light go from his eyes.
Sirens sound around you. You look around the alley for a quick escape. The buildings you stand between are not too high and not too far apart, so you leap from wall to wall until you reach the roof.
Police cars surround the building.
"Take off the mask and come down!" you hear a voice through a megaphone yell. Detective Yinsen, you think. With her are a score of officers who have pistols and rifles aimed at you. You almost smile. None of that will get through through the armor in your suit and their aim will be lousy from this angle. Instead of surrender, you pull out a concussion batarang to stun them long enough for you to get away.
A shot rings out.
Blood blossoms on the front of your suit.
Cold spreads in your body.
An armor piercing round? No, no, no no one down there had that kind of ammo. Then you see a glint of steel from the rooftop above you to the left. Comissioner Gordon stands up holding a sniper rifle. Of course; Gordon's military training. Clever old man.
You slip to your knees as your vision fades to black.
Clever old man...
