I didn't have much in mind when I started this drabble, but as I wrote I realized at very least I could stretch my nerd muscles and make some various random Batman references.
At this point, I just feel like amusing myself, even if I'm the only one that gets the joke. XD
$4$
Listen up now, honey, you're gonna be sorry
I can't get out from under a sky that is falling
- "Vegas," by Sara Bareilles
Orange.
It was his favorite part about working.
The hours were a bitch and the constant bruises and cuts and (though rare) broken bones were damn near impossible to explain away, but at the end of the night, this made it all worth it.
Terry never considered himself to be a simple man, but as he got older and older, he realized it was the little things that kept him from completely losing his mind.
He loved the old Clock Tower the most. It was in bad shape from way back when the earthquake happened and Gotham caught on that catchy nickname of No Man's Land. The Clock Tower was never renovated or rebuilt, just like the old Arkham Asylum- it was left behind, forgotten in the never-ending urge to create newer and newer technology.
From the Clock Tower, he could see all of Gotham City, stretched out across the gleaming buildings and sporadic parks, dotted with cars and pedestrians, even at the early hour. It wasn't on par with any other city in the nation- it was a living, breathing entity, never sleeping or resting, always moving and thriving and never stopping. The world around them could be crumbling- and there had been more than a few close calls- and Gotham would go on, never pausing for a second.
God, he loved Gotham.
It was the worst city in the world- even with him working almost constantly, the crime rate almost never went down, the people were almost all callous and cold, and the press spent almost all of their time alternately praising or tearing him down.
Gotham is ruthless, power-hungry, crazy, and terrifying. It's also his home, and the only place to have produced some of the best heroes (and a couple villains) in the nation, a majority of whom had no actual 'powers.'
When his job was done for the night- because it was never truly done- he would go to the Clock Tower and sit. There, he could turn off his comlink and think about the night's events or just life in general and watch his city. The sky would begin to morph as he stared out, inky black turning over into purples and the purest shade of orange he'd ever seen. It was that pure color that made his day worth it. After horrible nights and witnessing too many ugly things, seeing the sky turn back to its original splendor always renewed him with a sense of hope for the unknown.
It didn't matter how bad the night had been- when he sat on top of the Clock Tower and watched the sun rise across his city, it was always worth it.
$4$
I liked it. Sorry if it was a little repetitive, but I just thought it flowed better this way.
Luckily, Yellow should be finished a hell of a lot sooner, because I already have 75-percent of it finished in a notebook. I just have to copy it to a Word doc and write the last few sentences. :)