I hate Gotham City.
I really, really, hate Gotham City. No, hate isn't a strong enough word. I loathe and, detest this shithole. Just breathing the air of this horrid place fills me with disgust and revulsion. If there were a way to destroy this city without killing people, or rendering them homeless, I would do it in a heartbeat.
I remember watching Batman Begins and thinking of how stupid the League of Shadows was to destroy Gotham when they could have enacted real social change to better it after having infiltrated the place so thoroughly. But let me tell you as a person who has lived here for almost a year now, that they had the right idea.
This place is beyond saving. It's continued existence will do nothing but continue to breed corruption, suffering, and madness to everyone who lives here. I firmly believe that even if you put the most well meaning, professional, and empathetic people in all administration positions of Gotham, it still wouldn't change. If anything the people you put in charge would change for the worse.
I hate Gotham for a lot of reasons. The weather sucks, their cops make the ones from back home look like paragons of civility, everyone who lives here who isn't crazy is a selfish jerk that would put a pissed off New Yorker to shame, and don't even get me started about their pizza.
But the reason I hate Gotham at this particular moment is how dark this place is at night, and of course my neighborhood decided to have another black out on tonight of all nights. Thanks to Gotham's weird weather of constant cloudy nights and fog, even the moon at its brightest can barely illuminate anything here so at night it gets DARK.
I shiver as the wind shifts and get closer to the wall while walking for what little protection it gives. The streets are completely empty right now and the lack of light is giving the place an eerie feeling. It's pretty easy to see why many people in the city consider the Bowery haunted. It isn't just criminals who are a superstitious and cowardly lot in this city.
Despite it's reputation, the Bowery of Gotham is mostly safe as long as you avoid certain streets during the day. The really dangerous crime areas are north of us near and around Crime Alley. Decades ago when Gotham was a major manufacturing center, this place had been a bustling network of factories, warehouses, and apartments blocks but its now largely empty and uninhabited.
It isn't completely abandoned of course. Similar to Detroit from back home, the rent is so cheap here that there are a few places that have stubbornly held on and even manged to grow a little. I had chosen to live here mostly because of how easy it is to hide. Even though Gotham's version of myself had burned his social security card and any ID he had long before I ended up in his body, I still managed to find a landlord who was willing to let me stay in their building. I just had to pay a big enough deposit, pay my rent on time, and he never asked any questions.
While my building has backup generators, the same can't be said for the rest of Bowery. One of the downsides of living here is that it even when the streetlights are working, they're old and dim. According to the Gotham tourism bureau, yes I couldn't stop laughing either; Gotham's electrical gird was actually considered an engineering marvel back when it was first built. But like everything else in Gotham, its infrastructure is now old and unreliable. Something that isn't helped by all the punks, gangsters, and joker wannabes making the system worse.
It's a common "prank" in Gotham for people to cut through electrical cables, vandalize transformers, and mess with generators. While the nicer and rich parts of Gotham have backups, the rest of the city has to deal with frequent blackouts to the point most Gothamites who work at night carry flashlights all the time.
This world's version of Bruce Wayne did what he could. He paid for alternative energy sources to be built, pushed in micro grids with backup generators to help deal with the power loss, and started upping security around all the important bits. It has helped somewhat and the people here got a bit of leg up thanks to cheap power bills.
I grimace a little as the wind really picks up all of sudden. I'm still cold despite wearing so many layers to help disguise my face. I'm wearing long johns, a sweater, two pairs of socks, thick pants, a large trench coat that is always somehow in fashion in Gotham, a scarf, earmuffs, and my trusty Fedora to hide the stupid tattoo on my forehead.
The wind is blowing hard enough that I almost miss the telltale sound of hissing and chattering from a nearby pile of garbage. I freeze completely still and very slowly take a single step back before pausing again. Satisfied that nothing is happening, I give the garbage pile a wide birth and cross the street altogether to avoid it. I look back and can just make out the shapes of several rats entering a nearby sewer grate.
Something the comics never really showed was how Gotham is absolutely infested with rats. You hear them in the walls, they sneak through the hallways of people's homes at night, you see swarms of them around garbage at night, and Gotham rats are known to attack people.
I don't know if a version of Rat Catcher exists in this world, but I'm not exaggerating when I say they attack people. It's thankfully not very often but it isn't exactly rare either. There are plenty of videos of rats swarming and climbing up people's legs and arms to bite when they feel threatened or trapped. Thankfully there have been no confirmed deaths, but knowing that rats can suddenly decide to attack in a wave of fur and teeth changes how you look at the furry little bastards.
My legs are starting to get a little sore but I can see the light of Burnley up ahead, so I force myself to keep walking instead of taking a break. Normally a little hike wouldn't have bothered me, I had to get used to walking real quick since no cab or bus services comes to the Bowery. But I had been forced to do a double shift at the diner since Juan had called in sick.
Pauli had been the perfect boss to work for in that he didn't care about my past or appearance as long as I was a good worker and cook. I had cooked him a good and more importantly cheap meal for him in his kitchen and he hired me on the spot. He can be an asshole sometimes, but my coworkers are nice enough and a legally dead person can't exactly be picky for work.
After what felt like hours, I finally feel the light and people up ahead just before I see them as I come around to the corner bus stop. With a small spring in my step I increase my speed. One of the side benefits of my power is I can literally feel the pressure or weight of light around me. Even with my eyes closed I can tell exactly what kind of light is in the area and what it is hitting, which gives me a bit of a six sense. The range isn't that great, and I can't get fine details but its still pretty cool.
It's thanks to that sense that I can feel the people waiting at the bus start to turn around to look at me as I pass them by since I had come from the direction of the Bowery. I could tell from their body language that they were a bit glad that I had kept walking. There were plenty of rumors in Gotham about strange and dangerous things there.
It's a fact of life in Gotham, that very few people who live here ever really feel truly safe or comfortable. There is just a built up energy in the air that you can feel walking down the street that makes you guarded when you're by yourself. I used to think it was just because I'm stuck here that I feel that way, but the longer I live here the more I realize it is not by any means unique to me.
There is a weird phenomenon I've noticed where people almost instinctively herd together in Gotham. Be it on the sidewalk, the bus, or the subway, people prefer to bunch up rather than spread out. Unless you look like threatening or dangerous, complete strangers will come to sit next to you or each other rather than sit alone.
I check my watch to make sure I'm on schedule. Satisfied, I enter a nearby alcove to better escape the wind while I wait for my cab.
At times like this I really wish I had a cellphone to distract me from my thoughts but it's too easy to track and I remember that sonar trick in The Dark Knight. I have no idea if this Batman has access to that type of technology but better safe than sorry.
Despite myself, my mind starts to drift a bit and I try to force away the butterflies in my stomach about what I'm about to do. I've never committed a crime in my life, and I grew up with an ex-con for a father who made sure that I wouldn't repeat the same mistakes he did. He'd probably kick my ass if he found out what I was planning to do.
No, that isn't true. Dad would probably give me a hug and try to warn me against doing this. Especially with what will happen if I get caught.
The Joseph Billings of this world has a long history of criminal acts, and a past diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia. Now that I've become a Meta human, they'll probably send me to Arkham if I get caught. Even if I am completely rational and sane, there is no telling how long I'd be stuck in there. There is no Great White Shark in this reality and I have no interest in taking his place. That is of course assuming that the cops involved in my shooting don't arrange an accident while I'm in custody.
If I'm careful and lucky, no one will even realize a crime has even been committed. Worse case scenario I have to start using my power, which will ensure Batman investigating. In every story and universe, Batman is always drawn to unusual crimes. I have no illusions about escaping from him and I remember the warning from that thing I made a deal with about what will happen if I try to tell him or anyone else about my Meta knowledge of this world.
Right on time my cab came down the street to pick me up and I took out my flashlight to make sure he didn't miss me. I had splurged to get the brightest model of flashlight available since my power works well with the more light there is. Mostly to let out a bit of my nervousness, I feel out the beam of the flashlight as I hold it up and push out some of the energy I've stored into it which allows me to project the beam right toward the cab for a brief cabby spots it and slows down to park.
The cab is one of the cheap older models that the people in Gotham favor. This city is a bit obsessed with the glories and perceived golden time of the past. While most people are forced to drive used models by necessity, even the rich buy newer cars that are modeled to look like old time classics.
My cab driver is a heavyset man wearing a Gotham Rogues cap and smoking a large cigar. The red glow of his cigar casts his face in a dark light but he is revealed to be a normal man with graying hair when he steps out of the cab carrying a large lantern. He has the same weathered look on his face that most people who have lived in here for a while tend to get before too long.
He gives me a weird look as I get in the back seat but doesn't say anything while he loads up my bag into the trunk. Most people in Gotham survive the crazies by keeping their heads down and avoiding trouble. Meta humans are rare in this world and almost all of the ones in Gotham are criminals, which means he probably won't talk if questioned by the authorities just in case I'm one of the nasty ones. The Gotham PD has improved under Gordon, but no one really trusts the police to help them. Much less keep them safe.
I take my gloves off to rub my hands together to get some feeling back into them and bask in the blessed, blessed, warmth of the heater. It was no wonder Freeze chose to live here if it was this cold in autumn. I'm dreading the coming winter.
"Where to?" the cabby asked in a very raspy voice that told me he'd been smoking those cigars for quite a while.
"Powers hotel. Don't take the tunnel," I muffle out of my scarf.
He nodded in the rear view mirror and we were off with the cab's high beams piercing the darkness. The gentle rumbling of the car and my toes getting warm helped me to relax a little. If I wasn't dirt poor, I think I could get use to taking a cab more often to get around. Anything was better that being forced to ride and endure that parade of freaks and weirdos that rode the bus line in this city.
It really was nice to be able to sit alone with no one invading my personal space to sit near me. The only time I've ever appreciated the stupid Tattoo I'm stuck with on my forehead, is that it keeps people from crowding near me. I didn't even mind the driver smoking though there actually aren't any anti smoking ordinances in Gotham.
Thanks to the veil keeping me ignorant of anything not related to this dumpster fire of a city, I'm not sure how it is in the rest of the country, but all the no smoking stuff never passed here. You've got a few more family friendly places having no smoking rules to attract customers but those places aren't the norm. This place is way too conservative for that. I remember telling Danny about other cities banning Trans Fats to be healthier, and he had nearly laughed his ass off at the thought.
In no time at all the cab starts to park. I thanked the driver and gave him a decent tip of my limited cash since he hadn't tried to pull the old credit card machine was broken trick like most of the other cab drivers I've known all my life. One of the bellboys came to get my bag for me as I got out to stare at the building.
The Powers hotel is an old building and considered a historical protected site by the city. It was built when Gotham was in the art deco era and is so old it even still has a landing pad for zeppelins on the roof. Despite the Bio shock vibe, it still has that touch of Gotham Gothic. I can feel through the spotlights pointed everywhere that it's covered in pointed arches, ribbed vaults, and flying buttresses. Though weirdly they don't have any of the telltale Gotham gargoyles on the corners or on the roof.
Instead they had ancient and robed warriors with bird heads everywhere which was a little strange too me. But I ignored it and rushed passed the doorman to escape the cold.
The inside of the hotel was pretty nice with marble columns and stone carved statues surrounding a fancy fountain in the foyer. The floor had been recently shined, and all the employees were fancily dressed. A live pianist was playing something relaxing in the hotel lounge where people were sipping drinks. I knew I had come to the right place because there were paintings adorning all the walls. The Power's family was well known for being art collectors and while the paintings here on the ground floor were expensive, the real treasures were in their penthouse.
I was a bit surprised at how packed and lively the place was, with a decent line of people to the front desk. It was not cheap to spend even a single night here and Gotham was in the middle of a depression. Maybe there was a convention in town.
I took a seat near a small group somewhat near the door to wait for the line to die down. I wanted as few witnesses as possible just in case my crime was discovered. Thankfully no one noticed or seemed to care that I hadn't taken off my coat or hat. I pulled out a faded paperback to look busy reading and tried to look nonchalant while keeping a close eye around me. I was really on edge and I hadn't even done anything yet.
A large group of similarly dressed people at the lounge caught my eye while I waited and I discreetly modified the light to magnified the scene in front of me to get a better look.
It was obvious that the man in the center was someone important. His face was smug and confident, with bright eyes and a neatly trimmed mustache above his grin of perfect teeth. He was slouching back in his chair, while flirting with the waitress giving him his drink. He pinched her ass with a hand covered in gold rings and I made note of the fact that the girl smiled at him a little nervously.
There was a group of five or six men sitting around me that were laughing at a joke he had made. They all were dressed alike with greased up hair, gold watches, and prominent bulges of guns in their jackets. Except for one guy in a black hat who remained standing at attention, with his eyes alert and roaming around.
I didn't recognize him though admittedly I didn't really have an encyclopedic knowledge of Batman comics. I knew the mob was still a powerful thing here though they were losing ground to the freaks according to Danny. But beyond that I knew nothing about the mob besides the more famous ones. I didn't know much about the state of criminals in Gotham except that Black Mask was the biggest boss right now and was busy fending off several rivals who were getting bolder after a few recent setbacks to the Bat.
I waited until crowd thinned just a bit more before picking up my bag and getting in line before it got long again. I took the photo I had specially prepared and put it in my hand. I glanced at my watch again and took a deep breath while feeling my heart beating like crazy in my chest.
A squeal behind me made me a jump a little and I turned around panicked to glare at a young couple that was engaging in some major PDA with the man necking the woman who let out another squeal. I wasn't the only one who was staring, as the man was getting a little grabby with her ass.
Normally I wouldn't have cared. The more PDA they showed, the easier it was to hopefully distract everyone from me. But there was something very familiar about the man's face that I couldn't quite place. Looking closer at him I know I've seen him before.
He looked normal enough with a narrow face, high cheekbones, and a pointed chin. His had thinly plucked eyebrows shaped into a perfect arch above his baby blue eyes. He looked thin on first glance but a closer look showed a deceptively lean build with well-toned arm and leg muscles.
His hair was shaved to a very close buzz that helped bring out the sharp features of his face. He moved with short almost wild strides as he openly groped the woman's bust. They were making a scene but the man didn't care. He only had eyes for the woman and I swear he all but licked his lips with a hungry look on his face that was just a little odd to be honest.
After a few minutes it was finally my turn in line and I ignored the perverts behind me to get started. I had practiced in the mirror for hours to get the face right. I held the photo up to the light and projected the photo onto my face as I took off my scarf.
My power allows me to absorb light for energy and than push that energy back into the light around me to manipulate it. While I love my ability, it is not particularly powerful. I can't solidify light to make force fields or fly like other light users I remember from the comics.
Instead, my main focus is using light to make illusions and even then it is limited in that I can't make something from nothing. Instead I usually simply transfer the image of a nearby object, and project it onto another location. It's sort of like seeing a mirage.
Normally I can't do much with a photo since it's only a two dimensional image. Projecting it on my face would just give me a single static face that couldn't move. But I had been practicing animating it and while I couldn't do much, it was still good enough to pass as a real face.
Maybe. Hopefully.
"Good evening sir, do you have a reservation?"
"Yes, one suite for the night." I tried to speak bluntly and with obvious irritation as I gave her the fake ID to help complete the illusion. "It should be under Francis Boyle."
As far as I could tell, the Francis Boyle of this world had not been directly involved with creating this world's version of Mr. Freeze. The Mr. Freeze of this world is a crazy bastard and has never worked for him or anyone else. But Francis is still a rich corporate asshole and pretty shady from what I was able to dig up on him.
Thankfully he didn't practice good computer security, and I didn't feel bad about stealing his credit card number. He splurged enough on fancy hotels for hookups with that he should never notice one night here.
"Of course sir," the woman said while giving me a friendly smile while fiddling on the computer. But a moment later, her eyes tightened and there was a small change in her body language that I knew very well. I had seen it more than once while working at the diner when you make a mistake with a customer. Something was wrong.
"I apologize Mr. Boyle, but there was an unfortunate problem with your preferred room," she replied.
"What problem?" I growled. I was lucky that irritated asshole seemed to be Francis's default facial expression.
"I'm afraid that there is a plumbing issue and we are going to be unable to have your room ready in time."
"That is unacceptable. I paid for that room."
"Yes sir, and we do apologize, but we can give you one exactly the same…"
"When will my RESERVED room be ready then?" I interrupted.
"I apologize sir, but we won't be able to get a plumber to come by until tomorrow afternoon. But as I was saying, we have one another suite prepared you can use."
"Where exactly is this room? I wanted a nice view of the harbor."
"Just give me a moment to see what is available," she said while looking on her computer.
Shit. Shit. Shit. What am I going to do? I had chosen that room because I could easily climb up from my window to the Power's penthouse on the top floor. I had scoped it out from across the street and the Powers never close it all the way.
"I've found a room located at the same corner one floor down," she assured me turning the computer to show me a map of the floor plan. "You will still have a great view I promise."
"I suppose that will have to do," I snapped as she prepared my key.
Okay this can still work. All I have to do is climb up from two balconies instead of one. I had rope and I had been practicing climbing rope and tying knots until I had been comfortable attempting to pull this off. I can totally climb up two balconies without falling to my death. The woman gave me key, and I had scowled again before taking my bag to head for the elevators.
I had headed for the ones on the left before stopping when I saw Mr. mobster surrounded by his goon squad heading to the same ones. Not wanting to get near him, I had turned back and passed past the front desk to get to the other set of elevators on the right side of the hotel.
Looking back at it now, I've always wondered what my life would have been like if I hadn't heard that bastard's name walking by. Would have I stolen the painting and left with no one the wiser? Or would the same sequence of terrors and disaster have been the same?
I heard the woman at the front desk say that name and turned around in shock to stare as the couple from earlier as the man smiled that hungry smile of his, not once taking his eyes off the woman in his arms.
"Here is your room key, Mr. Zsasz."
X
X
X
x
Decided to start posting another fic I've been working on in addition to Seed. I wanted to try my hand at writing a SI. I'm trying to go with quicker and smaller updates of 4 to 6k words so I can update a bit more. I've learned alot from writing Seed so I wanted to put a few of those lessons to the test. Hopefully I can make things at least a little entertaining.