p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"JJ POV/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"In the eyes of the legal world I was never actually born, I have no birth certificate, no Social Security number, no friends, and on a good day, no parents. I came screaming into this world in the back of a strip club as the son of The Joker and Harley Quinn. Before, I was taking my first breaths, my father had considered how best to rid himself of this proof of humanity, drowning or a simple gunshot? I'll most likely never know what or whom stopped him for ending my life, but I can't say I was better off living. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"My earliest memories are of violent fights, murder, being beaten myself, being locked in a metal cabinet, and of the hundreds of lost people that my father and mother would recreate into their lunatic followers. Most of my early life was spent being cared for by junkie prostitutes that worked in the back rooms of my fathers clubs. They would trade me off while they turned tricks and shot heroin, but at least when I was with them I would be fed./p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"Once I got into my teens, life become a little more livable, I had become old enough to care for myself and learned quickly when to avoid my parents and their "family" of gangsters. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"My psychopathic parents where crime bosses with a love of all things violent, leading a huge following of lackeys that would kill and die for them. They had several strip clubs that where fronts for their illegal prostitution and gambling houses. When I was 13 my father decided it was time I started pulling my weight and began tossing me into bare-knuckle fights that one of his clubs would host on Friday nights. The fights would bring in crime bosses and wannabes from all over Gotham and neighboring cities to bet, gamble and network their criminal 'businesses.'/p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"For the first couple years I was nothing more than a side show, a child getting beaten to a pulp by seasoned gangsters, but I got better. Soon I was winning against opening fighters and by the time I was 17 I was beating harden criminals into bloody messes, winning every fight my father tossed me in, bring in winnings for the house and for me. I hadn't gotten better for my father or even for survival, I had found my way out. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"I knew if I won enough fights, I could save enough money to get the hell away from this shit show I was born into. I think in a fucked up way my mother might have loved me in her past life, but as she was now, she was as much as a lunatic as The Joker. I had always had a deadline for my escape, but just shy of my twenty first birthday my deadline choose itself. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"It was a night like most. I had gone out for my normal Jog, when I had gotten back to the old warehouse my father had at the edge of the city, where he had let me build a small apartment in the back, there was a stale scent of death in the air. If you've smelled a corpse that was freshly dead you know it's a wet coppery smell and it was a scent I was all to familiar with. In the middle of the warehouse was a pile of red and black clothing covered in blood. I remember thinking how odd it was, usually my father kept his murders near the pier or the chemical plant, if he was feeling nostalgic. Then I saw a hand sticking of the fabric, I knew it wasn't a pile of clothing, it was a body and after, seeing the beaten boyish face and small black 'R' on his chest, I knew it was Robin. At that moment my fathers obsession with the Batman had gone to far. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"I had never had any personal run ins with the dark knight as I wanted nothing to do with my fathers "businesses" and he didn't care enough about me to give a shit about a progeny, but my father and The Batman had been trying to kill each other from before I was born and before the Bat ever had a Robin. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"However, the Robin that lay in front of me covered in blood was smaller than the original one I had seen a couple years ago when he and the Bat raided one of fathers clubs during a fight. This one was clearly younger and just a boy. That night I packed everything I had and I left Gotham. /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;" /p
p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; font-size: medium; font-family: Cambria;"Its been five years since I came to Bludhaven, I wish I could tell you I found a better way at life but its hard to find a job with no social security number or birth records, so I went back to fighting, but this time it was on my terms. I couldn't do it forever, but I would either figure something else out or get killed. /p
