As promised here is the first chapter of a rather long story, I hope. It takes place a month after the destruction of Tokyo by Brooklyn.
Arkham Asylum was quiet outside. You couldn't here the screams of the doctors and laughter of the patients. He preferred it out here in the small garden.
It was horrible. It was like Harvey was trying to escape the problems they had to fix together.
Outside, you couldn't hear Joker attempting to goad passing guards into attacking him, or Waylon Jones trying to smash his huge water tank open. It was quiet.
But not anymore. A soft screaming sound was breaking the silence. And something was falling towards the garden. Small, black, and round. It was getting closer.
Crusher frowned in confusion as he looked at the crowd that greeted them as they stepped off of the plane, and into Gotham City. A huge crowd of photographers and news cameramen was waiting, but none of them were filming or taking photos. Garland and Ming-Ming had warned him there would be press, but he thought that they would react more to their arrival.
As he followed Garland towards customs, a sudden ripple of noise went through the crowd.
"He's here." "At last." "He took his time." "Who will be with him?"
Crusher turned back, as did Garland. Mystel had little choice, since he was perched upside down on Crushers shoulders. A tall man, with short black hair, and an expensive suit had just got off of the plane which they had just left. He smiled for the cameras, as flash after flash went off around him. He didn't seem at all perturbed and in fact looked as though he was enjoying himself. The newsmen began to yell questions at him.
"Mr. Wayne, how was your trip to Japan?"
"Mr. Wayne, what do you say to comments that you were seen with Julia of the Beyblading team F-Dynasty?"
"Why did you go to Japan in the first place?" Wayne shrugged as he turned to the desperate press.
"My stay in Japan was very good, and relaxing. I went to Japan to look at the work the Wayne Foundation are doing after the disaster there a month ago. And as for Julia, well, I will let her answer that question."
Crusher thought Ming-Ming would explode as the glamorous 20 year-old stepped off of the plane behind Wayne.
"I'd say those comments were correct!" she said, a smile playing around her lips. Ming-Ming pouted, and began to march off towards the exit.
"Hussy!"
Garland grabbed Crusher's arm, and steered him towards the exit, after the flouncing Ming-Ming. They left the airport, and Garland saw the limo that was due to pick them up. He signaled the porter, and all of the four BEGA Bladers left the media circus that was happening behind them.
Garland frowned as he looked up at the hotel. It was 60 stories tall, and had solid steel shutters either side of the door. They had already been questioned about their luggage at the airport, so he hadn't expected it at a hotel. He rapidly explained Mystel's-launcher-was-not-a-weapon-and-yes-Ming-Ming-would-like-a-jacuzzi-in-her-room-and-no-that-certainly-was-not-a-bazooka-and-what-do-you-mean-have-we-seen-any-clowns-or-scarecrows-recently-and-Mystel-get-down-from-there, and began to find out where the luxury suite he had booked was. He was astonished at the answer.
"I'm sorry Sir, but our new owner Mr. Wayne just requested it for his lady friend, so you have been moved down to another suite." Garland thought that Ming-Ming might have been able to take this, if Julia hadn't chosen that moment to walk through the lobby, and say very loudly over the phone
"Yes Raul, Bruce gave me the very best room that was available. He is such a sweetie. I think someone had to be moved, but I don't think they will mind."
Garland had never seen a human face turn both green with envy, and red with rage at the same time, but Ming-Ming somehow managed it. Grinding her teeth, she marched to the elevator, and stabbed the button for the 42nd floor. Garland and Crusher followed her in another elevator, but Mystel decided that the walls of the hotel were quicker, and didn't have Musak playing in them.
Mystel had to admit, the room he had was brilliant. He loved having a captain that came from a really rich family. And being a celebrity. And Ming-Ming being angry. Okay, maybe not the last one. But the room was fantastic. It had actual gargoyles outside, which he had hung from for an hour before Garland grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him back into the room. Crusher was making Ming-Ming a very strong drink, "to calm her down", and the aforementioned singer was fuming on the couch in Mystel's room, which Garland had decided was the meeting room, for no apparent reason. Mystel looked on curiously, as Ming-Ming gulped down the drink, and then gazed at the bottle it had come from. It was clear, and had the letters V, O, and D on it. He thought he had seen Tala holding one after the Tokyo event. When asked why he had it, the Russian had sworn, and said, "To calm down". Mystel began to sidle towards it as Garland began talking.
"We are here for a very important reason. We are seen by the world as puppets for an evil villain, and friends of a city destroying maniac."
Mystel was 3 metres from the mysterious "calming down" bottle.
"But we were friends with a city destroying maniac. And were puppets for an evil villain."
Garland frowned. "Yes, thank you, Mystel, but the world loves publicity stunts, so we need to capitalize on this. That is why we are on our first world tour. And our first stop is Gotham. This brings me onto my next point. Ming, no clubbing."
"WHAT!" screamed Ming-Ming. "How am I meant to advertise myself if I don't go to parties?" Mystel was only 1 metre away from the bottle now.
"We will attend parties, but no clubbing. Especially not anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge. Also, Crusher, people may seem scared of you. Do not react. Large people have a bad reputation here."
"Why?" Crusher looked confused.
"Oh, Killer Croc, Bane, Clayface, Abattoir, Blockbuster, just to name a few."
Mystel began to drink from the calming down bottle.
"Who?"
"Don't worry. Just don't hit anyone."
He felt… funny. Happy. Hee hee hee hee heee...
"Mystel! You are not to sneak out at night and go free running. Some people are scared of mysterious shadows, and you might get into trouble. Mystel, are you even listening to me?"
"Ohcourse Garland…All 3 of you… why'zzere free of ewe? he…. This calming down bottle is great…"
"Calming... calming down bottle? What are you... NO!"
Garland dived towards the 11 year-old, as Mystel suddenly felt very sleepy...
Ming-Ming stormed down to the reception, feeling a sense of righteous anger. She glared at the receptionist, and began to speak in a very soft, deadly voice.
"I want to speak to the owner please."
"Mr. Wayne is here, but he is not to be disturbed." came the stern response. Ming-Ming smiled like a shark. It was a trick she had picked up from Brooklyn on one of his bad days. Not that she missed the bad days now he was gone.
"I want to speak to the owner. Now. Please." She leaned across the desk, and began to tap her blade threateningly on the polished surface. The receptionist saw something that even the Joker could not match in the teenager's eyes, and pressed the intercom.
"Mr. Wayne to reception, please. Mr. Wayne to reception."
Five minutes later, Bruce Wayne himself appeared at the bottom of the stairs, as wonderful – no, as perfect-as she had imagined. He looked at the singer/blader, who was currently rearranging her features to regain the look of anger that had graced it earlier, and at the frightened receptionist.
"It's okay Vicky. I'll handle this. How can I help you Miss..?"
"Its Ming-Ming, Mr. Wayne, and I have to admit, I am shocked at how you run this hotel. You allow free vodka to be in a boy of 11's room. I knew you were reckless, but not this much."
Wayne laughed, his perfect jaw moving beautifully. Ming-Ming shook her head angrily.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."
"My teammate, a mere boy of 11, was exposed to strong alcohol the moment he entered the room he was staying in. It is completely unacceptable, and I hope you will be taking steps to remedy it."
"I will make every attempt to. Don't worry, Ming-Ming." Wayne turned and walked back up the stairs.
Ming-Ming sighed dreamily. Mystel was going to be alright. And, and...
BRUCE WAYNE KNEW HER NAME. sQUEEEEEEEEEEE!
What is this? It looks like a boy.
Why is he here? What has he done? Is he guilty?
No. We must help him. He's obviously in trouble.
We'll do it the old way. Let the coin decide.
Fine…. Hah! We help him.
"What's your name?"
He's looking at us.
He better answer.
Why doesn't he answer?
He is now.
"Sezu. My name is Sezu."
Who is this mysterious Sezu? What will he do in Gotham? Will Ming-Ming attack Julia, and who will win? Will Mystel survive his hangover, or Garland if he does?" To be continued. Please review. Oh and for reference, Crusher is 21 but naive, Julia 20, Garland 19, Ming-Ming 17, and poor little Mystel is only 11. Boris did not care about age, only ability.