Gotham City
July 6, 15:02 EDT
Gotham is less lively than I originally assumed. I never thought that I'd get the gothic equivalent of Times Square or anything, but I figured that I would've gotten at least someone to take a seat by now. I grow more impatient with each passing second, the uncomfortableness of the folding chair underneath me following close behind. The vacancy of the identical seat across from me and the empty space filling the top hat in-between us both do nothing to help. I start to lose sensation in my right foot, as I've been repeatedly tapping it against the ground for the past quarter hour or so just waiting for some schmuck to come around the corner. And even then, I'd have to worry about convincing them to cough up a few bucks so I can-
"Dad, I'm telling you, escorting me isn't necessary. I'm -"
Praise be whichever deity has blessed me on this day.
"And I'm telling you that this is gonna be how it is until you can drive a car."
I frantically reach inside my trench coat and take out a deck of playing cards, and begin to work my magic. So to speak, anyways.
"You mean that this is how it's going to be until you can get your car back from the shop."
I glance down the sidewalk to my left from the opening to the alleyway behind me. Let's hope I've found my mark. My hands move almost as if they were well-oiled machines, deftly shuffling the deck over, and over again. Riffle shuffle, Strip shuffle, Hindu shuffle, back to Strip, on to Mongean, so on and so forth. Just make it look real damn fancy, and remember to wear a whimsical-as-fuck smile.
"Not afraid to rib your old man, 'eh?"
Aaaaand showtime.
"Why, excuse me: good sir and young lady?"
The two slow their steady pace to a casual halt to look upon me. Attention grabbed, good start.
"Um…yes? Can I help you?"
Non-dismissive response. Better than what you got in Central, Thazi, but don't get your hopes up just yet. Play it cool, keep up that smile, and reel these little guppies in.
"Actually, I may or may not have been hoping to assist you two on this fine afternoon!"
Before they approached, I had already determined that there was a familial bond. Girl sounded young, guy sounded middle-aged, and there was the obvious signifier of his apparent designation of, "dad." The two don't share much in the way of physical appearance, as the man had a solid brown colorization to his hair, moustache, and eyes, while the daughter had auburn down to her shoulders that allowed her two blues to stand out.
"I'm sorry, what?"
Don't lose them now, Thazi. The girl's looking at you funny. She's quiet, but also throwing a subtle glance at your hands; your shuffling. She's interested, use it.
"Well, I simply wish to throw a wee bit of whimsy into day, is all. Everyone needs a bit of magic in their lives, amiright?"
Show off them pearly whites, increase intensity of shuffling. Move on to Dynamo flourish; they always fucking love the Dynamo flourish. Girl's let go of the subtlety, and is openly staring at my hands. That's right, lass, take the bait.
"Thanks, but I think we're fine. "
He starts walking away. Fuck, fuck, no, c'mon, turn back-
"W-Wait, hold up!"
Oh, thank God. The girl stopped him from bailing.
"Barbara, we should get going."
"C'mon, dad! It's not like he's gonna do anything! And you owe me for embarrassing me in front of Dick at school!"
Yeah, c'mon, pops; don't spoil Barbara's day any further. I mean, c'mon: you made her look bad in front of Dick? The Dick? You owe her, big guy. So just bite right onto that bait, and…
"Alright, alright."
Hook, line, and sinker!
"Thanks, dad!"
Can't tell if she's grateful that she gets to watch me do shit with cards, or just prideful that she managed to get her father to do something. Don't exactly care, either.
"Wonderful, wonderful! Please, just take a seat there."
Barbara sits down across from me, a toothy grin gracing her youthful features. She waits attentively for me to begin.
Time to bring the magic, motherfuckers.
"At the risk of sounding cliché," I stop shuffling and remove five cards, displaying them face-down, "I'm gonna have to ask you to take a card."
She takes the center card, and is about to flip it face-up.
"Hold on, there!" she flinches slightly at my outburst, "Don't show it to me just yet. I only need you to do two things for me first. That alright with you, miss?"
"S-Sure, right, fine." Aw, is that a wee blush I se-focus, Thazi.
"Firstly, I'll request that you look at that card and memorize it."
She follows my instructions to the letter.
"Got it down?"
She looks up from the card and nods in confirmation.
"Splendid! Now, last, but certainly not least, I would ask that you fold that card as many times as possible, then throw it into this hat right here."
I point down at the hat placed between us. She manages to bend the card over itself about four times –although upon the fourth the card was so taut that it refused to stay bent entirely- before dropping it into the hat. "Wonderful! You have done magnificently, if I may be permitted to say so!" Her once faint blush darkens somewhat. Even I'm starting to warm up in the cheeks because goddammit she's just so cute –eyes on the prize, Thazi. "Now," I draw a single card from my other hand at random, and show it to her, "would this so happen to be your card?" Her smile falters as she looks upon the card's face.
"U-Um…no?"
"Truly?"
I fake a convincingly confused expression as I turn the card to face myself this time. 7 of Hearts; not her card.
"Ah, I see that we've had a mix-up. Hold on a moment, would you?"
I reach down and put my hand into the hat. I pretend to fiddle around inside as Barbara becomes more confused with my actions.
"Uh, w-what're you-?"
"Ah, here we are!"
I take my hand out of the hat, and behold five separate cards. Barbara's interest is more peaked than ever. Where did he get those cards? Besides the one card I threw in, the hat was empty, right?
"Now that that little hurtle has been gracefully tackled," without looking at any of the five cards, I show them to Barbara, "are any of these your card?"
Gotcha.
Barbara let's out a surprised gasp of astonishment. All five of those cards are an Ace of Clubs; the same card as she had original drawn.
"Oh, my gosh!" She's laughs inspite of herself, most likely due to her not knowing how to properly express her shock.
"Wohohow!" Ah, the man of the hour finally chimes in. He was silent throughout the process of setting Barbara up for my little trick, but I supposed that even he was a little impressed by the outcome.
"Thank you, thank you; you are both far too kind!"
I perform a mock bow from my seated position, both Barbara and her father clapping for me.
"H-How did you-?"
I cut her off with a wagging finger.
"Ah, ah, ah. You know how we magicians are with revealing our tricks."
Y'know, I almost feel a pang of guilt for asking for compensation, buuut…
"Um, sir? If you would please? Even magic-men need to eat every now-and-then."
I gesture to the hat at my feet as I address the man.
"Oh, sure, why not?"
He goes for his pocket and pulls out his wallet, taking out a ten-dollar bill from inside and throwing it into the hat.
"Once again, you have my thanks. I only hope that I managed to bring a little bit of magic into your day!"
"Well, you certainly achieved that much!"
Barbara's giddiness has calmed somewhat, but her smile has remained constant.
"Alright, Barbara; we should probably hit the road."
"Right, right."
"The Magnificent Balthazar Sterling hopes that we may cross paths in the future, Miss…?"
"Gordon. But please, call me Barbara."
So, keep doing what I've been doing in my head, but out loud? Got it.
"Alright then, Barbara; may we meet again at a future juncture."
I wink at her, which finally seems to break down her aversion to showing off her blushing face. She waves back at me as she walks off to catch up to her father.
I sigh in satisfaction with myself over fucking finally being able to turn a profit today.
A profit of ten US dollars.
The economic equivalent of, like, four microwave dinners. And I don't even own a fucking microwave.
And my satisfaction is now void.
With my newly achieved bitterness fully realized –thanks, pessimism-, I rise from my chair and take the donation out of my hat. Now, all I've gotta do is buy myself more cheap-ass junk food so I can quell the stomach pains for the night just so I can sleep for over three hours. Hell, maybe even four.
I turn around to walk down the alleyway while I consider-ohmyfuck!
"Balthazar Sterling. I'd like to talk."
Oh shit. That's fucking Batman.
You need to say something, Thazi. This is Batman. The Batman! Justice Leaguer, Batman. Gotham's resident superhero, Batman. The dark knight, Batman! And he apparently hopes to speak with you. Any other person can count on their fingers the number of times a freaking veteran of war would want to speak with them. The same people would probably have trouble naming the amount of dreams they've had with superheroes wanting to associate with us mere mortals. Point is: show. Him. What. You. Got!
"U-Um… Okay?"
Well fucking done!
He takes a few steps forward holy shit even his walk is intimidating and raises his right arm. He presses a few buttons on it -can't see, obscured from view- before a projection protrudes from the glove to… Project itself in front of me.
It appears to be displaying camera footage from an alley somewhere. The footage is sped up extremely until it comes to an abrupt stop at a point where a man in a brown trench coat his taken a seat on a metal folding-oh fuck that's me.
Shit, this must've been… four months ago? Yep; March, according to the date in the corner. I believe this was… Star City? Kinda hard to remember a city you only lived in for a few days. Had to bail after another dead end and made my way to Metropolis. Come to think of it, didn't I leave while still on the job?
Well, as, "on the job," as a guy desperately seeking the attention and pocket change of passersby in exchange for magic tricks can be.
Yeah, I think I was. I remember being frustrated as shit, due to nobody at least patronizing the starving teenager for a spell, and just getting up from my chair and-shiiiit.
That… Was filmed. Batman is showing me a video of myself conjuring up a big ass playing card out of fucking nowhere, standing on top of it, and flying up like a some kinda airborne surfboard into the sky.
Real smooth, Thazi. Couldn't just take the bus, oh no; you had to get out right that second. Nice one, dumbass.
"This is you."
That wasn't a question. He can clearly see that it is indeed me riding on top of that card, he doesn't need me to confirm jack.
"Y-Yeah?" Okay, just take a breath, Thazi.
"This," he switches the video to a different recording, "is also you."
This video shows me in - where and when? Corner says April, so must be in Metropolis - yet another alleyway, again, sitting in a foldable chair. It's considerably later at night than I would usually permit myself to stay outside during, but by some miraculous leap in logic I assumed that Metropolis was just naturally crime free due to its protection by what is essentially a God from space.
Oh fuck, I remember this.
Late at night, only a few customers - would they be called customers to street performers? Don't know, haven't attended any of our meetings to discuss the issue with the homeless guitarists and the gold guys that stand still - that day, getting tired, decide to find cheapest motel possible.
Grab hat containing money, turn head slightly to the right, eat gads! A street thug with knife!
I'm irritated due to low earnings and lack of sleep the last few nights, and don't wanna lose my cash. Decide not to break for it into well-lit street, screaming, 'Rape!' at the top of my lungs, opt to handle the fucker myself. Guy's a bit of an asshole, too, so fuck it; card 'im.
The video-me snaps his fingers and a single playing card appears in between them. The thug is confused, but still demands for my shit.
What shit?, I believe I thought to myself.
I give a smirk - video doesn't show that; I just remember that because I thought it was cool - and prepare to throw. Video-me's arm snaps towards the mugger as the card as quickly released, sending the card flying straight towards his chest. The card flies fast and straight, more so than one would expect a piece of glorified paper to be capable of being thrown. It strikes him in the chest, sending him sprawling onto his back a few feet away.
Damn, I'm good.
Video-me looks at him for a second. I tried to make it a non-lethal shot, and it looked like there was no external bleeding at least, so I considered it a job well done. Grab my cash, flick the dude's unconscious figure off, walk out of frame.
Ah, memories.
Shit, wait. Why is Batman showing me this?
Is he gonna arrest me? Attack me? He's done neither, but at the same time nothing else besides turn the little hologram-thing off, so… Fuck it, just ask him.
"Do you… You want something from me?"
Way to make it sound as rapey as possible, Thazi ol' boy.
"No. I want to offer you something."
"I… Don't really… Um, I don't understand."
I think he squints at that. Cowl covers his eyes, so can't make assumptions, but hey: I'd probably do it too.
"I have been monitoring your movements for the past month."
And suddenly, I feel immense concern. Can't imagine why.
"You have potential. Your talents are metahuman grade, yet you use them to live as a street performer. Why?"
"I guess… Because I want to? No one else can do it, far as I can tell, so why not capitalize? Become a magician, or something? L-Like that Zatara guy. And I had to start somewhere, so… Yeah."
And I was a regular Casanova with that red-head about half an hour ago, so this is even more embarrassing of a display.
Batman -wait, is it disrespectful to call him that? Wait, what else would I call him? Stupid question- seems to ponder my explanation for a moment.
"If that is what you wish to achieve in life, that is your choice."
Um… Thanks, Batman? Glad to hear it?
"However," ah, that makes more sense, "I do have an alternative that I believe would suit you better."
Is… Is Batman offering me a job?
"Which would be…?"
"To work for the Justice League."
Okaywhat.
"Be-Become a Leaguer? S-Sir, I-"
"No, not a member of the League. You're not experienced enough, not to mention old enough, to reach that goal."
"Then what are you offering me?"
"That information is not an appropriate subject to be sharing in public. If you accept the offer, we can discuss it further. Just know that you will be working intimately with the Justice League and its associates on our regular affairs."
Thazi... You need to think. Hard. Harder than you've thought about anything in your entire life. You have been given the chance to become a superhero. At sixteen.
Granted, I think that Robin guy's, like, in his mid-teens at most, so-not important.
What does being a superhero even mean? I mean, I've seen the news; fight supervillains, save innocents, be praised by the masses for your heroism. But that would also entail the inclusion of the first thing: fighting bad guys.
It isn't like I can't fight shit; I've taken down my fair share of brutish thugs, and mom -God rest her soul- taught me a wee bit more about how to use cards than regular ol' shuffling techniques.
It's more so the insinuation that I'd be fighting guys that are a few ticks above, "Hooded Gentlemen with Knifes and Maybe Guns Sometimes." Like, just yesterday, even: some science lab in D.C. blew up, and the entire damned League showed up to check out the rubble. Anyone perceptive enough to realize that the more Leaguers there are in one place, the worse the situation must be, should be able to figure out that having all of them show up means that Hell itself must've cracked open and blown the place sky-high.
Point is: I'd have to deal with that crazy bullshit, and varieties thereof.
Then again… I am poor. And from what I've seen, the Leaguers seem well off. They have must provide the bare necessities, right?
But… I don't even know what the specifics are yet. Asking's a bust; Batman's being cautious and shit, so he can't share further.
…Balthazar Sterling: this decision… Is probably final. This might determine your entire future from this point onwards. So; what is it? Stay on the streets and hopefully become a successful magician with an inspirational biography, or -and it will never be weird to think this non-facetiously- become a superhero?
"…will there be a bed and decent food?"
"Your basic amenities will be provided for, and anything beyond that will be up to you."
Superhero it is, then.