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07 July 2010 @ 12:24 am

Welcome to Earth Three's Gotham.

What's so special about Earth Three? Well, not much, except... everyone's moral compass has been reset. If you were good? You're bad. If you were bad, you're good. And if you were somewhere in the middle, well, now you lean the opposite way that you did lean, or maybe you're exactly the same as you were, the better to boggle at the changes in your comrades.

Have a helpful chart.
30 June 2010 @ 06:34 pm
Stephanie was stressed. Of course, that was pretty normal for her, but it had gotten to the point where she needed to leave the house. Her mom wouldn't stop bugging her, and she knew she'd flown off the handle, but she couldn't help herself. Her nights had been getting longer and longer, and she was falling more and more behind on her classwork, and it seemed as though the only people even mildly interested in her were either gay, jerks, or criminals. She was supposed to be turning her life around, not piloting it into the abyss!

"I should never have let my mom convince me to go to college," she muttered to herself. At least it left her in a forgiving mood. Not that she had plans to return home in the next couple of hours.

And so she found herself seated in a cafe favored by the local college students for its free wifi access surrounded by papers, textbooks, writing utensils, and some overly-sweet coffee drink she'd already forgotten the name of, most definitely not doing her homework.
20 February 2010 @ 11:42 pm

Sally Marquez was an intern at Arkham Asylum, training to be a psychiatrist. It was weird, pecular even when there was no one there to greet her or log her in. What had happened? It was like everyone had just disappeared.  She stood still for a moment as if confused and then decided to at least check up on Killer Croc in the hospital wing. As soon as she went down one of the hallways a voice called out her name.

"Hey! Marquez!" The brunette whipped around to see one of the guards, Jim, stuck in one of the cells.

Sally ran to get him out, "What are you doing in there?"

"I don't know, I just woke up. Get me out of here, Sal. This place is giving me the creeps." She opened the door and let him out. That was weird...but then again weirder things had happened in Arkham. Who else had been locked in here?

((OOC: Your character has just been locked in a cell in Arkham Asylum! Sally will be going around freeing people she knows doesn't belong but some might be kept in...there are two particular things about Sally: 1. She's a meta, she can read people's memories. If there's something you want her to read or see feel free to type it in! I won't make her scan or force memories. 2. She's from a different time period then most. This is just before the Knightfall Saga, specifically after Bane broke both of Killer Croc arms. Have fun and nice meeting you!))

18 February 2010 @ 09:01 pm
How long had it been since she was last here? Weeks? Months? ... Years? As she stood from her rooftop perch, Robyn almost regretted coming back to her old hometown. Her old mentor had been able to handle the workload without her, after all. (Why else wouldn't she call?)

She sighed, staring down at the crowds of people. No one noticed she was here - and probably for good reason - but the invisibility was almost calling out to her. "You don't need to stay here," the people seemed to say as they moved on with their lives. "Your mentor's got this covered. Why don't you go back with the Titans where you belong?"

Robyn bit her lip. She belonged with her mentor too... so what now? Plopping down, she lazily continued to watch the people. At least if her mentor didn't want her back... there was always people watching, right?
22 December 2009 @ 07:45 pm
oh girl let's crash a party

There are two ways into this party. One is to be the elitist of the elite, a socialite bar none, a big name, a high roller.

The other way is to crash it.

Welome to Bruce Wayne's annual Christmas party. Booze on your left.

At 9:30 EST, there was a murder.
10 December 2009 @ 10:44 am

Welcome back to Arkham Asylum. You are again in your fetching orange jumpsuit, this time in the cafeteria. Lunch is nutraloaf and water. If you behave, there may be jello (green). If you don't behave, well, then you're just going to have to go without.

You are being watched.
09 December 2009 @ 11:19 am
Okay she's a little pissed. Or a lot pissed. Really really really. Who in their ever loving mind just forgets to gas up a friggin' chopper? Well... clearly she did. Zinda can't even blame this on joyriders, there had to be a leak in the engine or something, because she KNOWS that thing was all ready to go when she climbed in the seat just this morning. That kind of thing is literally life or death up there, no way she would just take off without checking for fuel. It just completely doesn't explain why three hours later she was making an emergency landing in a field outside of Gotham, leaning against a lamppost and nursing a hell of a blister.

8 miles, her feet tell her. 8 miles just to get to the city and it's friggin' cold. And she's been trying every one of Oracle's private frequencies she can think of and some she's just kind of making up on the off chance they do work. It'd probably be easier just to put out an open SOS, but her pride has been very and thoroughly ruffled. The walk's doing a lot to cool that down. She's supposed to be in Metropolis with the rest of the Birds, not in Gotham. Dinah's and Helena's personal lines don't connect when she tries to radio and yeah, that just ain't right. Time to swallow her pride and make the call.

"This is Lady Black Hawk, radioin' in a call for assistance. I got a downed bird in a field outside a' Gotham City and a heck of a pair of sore feet. Any friendlies in the area free to give assistance radio back."

She's hoping this isn't another reality bending life altering alternate universe/time thing. One of those was more than enough to last her several life times.

"And hey while your at it, can anyone tell me what year it is 'round here?"
08 December 2009 @ 05:30 pm
Great. Terry was stuck in 2009 without his jet or any clue how to get home. He wanted to find Jason Blood, since he'd been fighting a demon with Etrigan just before he'd been zapped here, but so far he'd only found some idiot who had no respect for Robin's legacy. And old Gotham was harder to navigate. Everything was different.

He needed help. Hopefully help that wouldn't cause a rip in the space-time continuum or anything. But he wasn't sure what else to do.

With luck, the Batfamily used the same frequencies in the past as he and Wayne used in 2041. He turned on his radio as he flew through the old skyscrapers.

"Batman, pick up? Slag, I'll take anyone who's getting the signal. Someone?"
08 December 2009 @ 03:54 am
Tim sits near the ledge and looks out at the city. His city. Not Tim's, not now, but Batman's. And it isn't Dick he thinks of when he thinks that name. He wanted Dick to pick up the pieces, sure, but only because someone had to and he wasn't ready to do it himself yet. Maybe someday, maybe if Bruce really died. Since Bruce isn't actually dead, Tim won't think about it.

But when he thinks "Batman," he thinks "Bruce." He knows exactly what anyone else would say to him, but he's past caring. He's been past caring for awhile now. His crazy mission matters more than whatever might go on down there in that darkness.

The darkness is almost comforting. Gotham is familiar, although it haunts him a little. Being here is like being in a graveyard. It's better now that Batman and Robin have some small measure of control, he supposes, but it's not his job to care about that anymore. Someday, he'll pick those pieces back up and stop being a disgrace. Someday when they all see that he's right. Hopefully it won't be too long, but things like this take more time than he wants them to.

Then there's that business with the League. He might not live through that, and he may be overambitious, but he's not stupid. Taking out the League of Assassins isn't a small task, and it won't distract him from his real goal. Even if he knows things have gone horribly, stupidly, insanely wrong, he's never been one to give up.

He had dreams, and he followed them. He got everything he ever wanted, and then he got a dead family to boot.

He supposes it could be worse.

He could be Jason.

Another time, he might have smiled at that, but not now. He doesn't have it in him to smile, and he's thought more than once that he might have forgotten how. Now he has Bruce's legacy and a feeling like he had when he was too young to really know what he'd gotten into. Batman isn't dead, any more than this city is dead. Batman is out there, somewhere, and he'll find him.

He just has to get off this rooftop and go back to looking. He also has to hope Ra's has absolutely no idea that he's back in Gotham right now. He doesn't want the League here, doesn't want Ra's's crazy offspring facing off against the League. Or maybe...

Well. As entertaining as that thought is, he doesn't really want the little brat facing off against the League. If nothing else, Dick would never forgive him, and would never forgive himself. Dick doesn't need that kind of baggage; he's got enough to deal with.

Tim stands up, and he feels the weight of the costume around him. Not just the leather; he's almost gotten used to that. But the weight of it, and of all the reasons he took it.

He'll have to go get changed and head back to the airport. Nothing moves fast enough for him, nothing goes as planned, but even so...part of him wishes he could stay here in this city, just for a little while.

The thought passes, and he moves, as quietly as he can manage, across familiar rooftops. This time, he ignores the sirens when they come. If he follows them now, he'll never get out. Let Dick answer them. It's his city now, isn't it? If only temporarily.