Olivia inhaled and side stepped around a fit and lean member of the football team. Yet another boy approached her, this time a sophomore that towered over her like the rest. She is not that short! This is uncommon! The differing sport added some variety into these events. Her training with Damian was paying off. She would effortlessly duck past them and keep heading on her way to the largest mass of people she could feel out. Never a spot she could get cornered alone and would have to use force to get out of.

"Is it cause I haven't made varsity yet?" he yelled out to her while she made her retreat.

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean!" Olivia replied and carried on her way to lunch. The institute didn't have sports teams, especially not ones that competed against other schools. While she found these varsity jackets cozy looking she didn't quite understand the difference in what got some players the privilege of wearing them and some not. She sensed someone familiar approaching from behind and turned to greet them. "Hey, Arthur!"

"Hello, Miss Olivia!" he said with a sweet smile and fixing his hair. Dr. Sylvia began research in a proper pair of glasses to block his ocular charm and they were still waiting on the first prototype. He fell in step beside her and took his camera out to show her a few photos he took over the weekend.

"I wish I had your eye for photography," she said with a bit of a sigh. "I could use it when I put the newest pieces of my portfolio together."

"I could help with that if you want. Teach you how or take them for you." He watched her face light up and he gripped his camera a little tighter.

In the cafeteria the two quickly found where Damian was sitting with an opened pizza box and a slice already in his hand. Arthur had his own lunch but was offered a slice anyway. Best to share lest it go to waste. "Mm, here she comes," Olivia said and took hold of the nearest drinks while Damian took up his own.

"What? Who AH!" Arthur jumped as Melissa slammed her tray onto the table. "Hhello, Miss Mel."

"Guess who has to join the fuckin' homecoming committee!" she snapped then took her spot next to Arthur.

"Gross," Damian commented between bites.

"My parents are withholding my right to throw an amazing Halloween party in Gate Tower if I don't 'endear myself' to our student body,'" she explains. "I was banking on this location and they waited until it was already too late to book another spot to pull this on me!"

"We could," Olivia began to suggest Wayne Manor but Damian and Melissa expressed against it with a "No" in unison.

"As much as I like getting under father's skin, I think he's had his fill of teenager problems. Having who knows how many running around the mansion and he might lose it," Damian explained. Olivia gave a pout and took up a slice of pizza.

"I can't tell if they also don't want a bunch of randos in the Tower or assume this is going to help me in some fucked up way!"

"Is there really no other place you can pick from? I mean, there's still over a month until then and this late I don't know if the committee will even let you join," Arthur expressed with only mild hesitation. He was getting better at speaking freely with his new friends.

Melissa smiled at Arthur only to get a "NO!" from the Wayne siblings. Her intentions were very clear to them. "Guess I have to find a new place or cancel all together."

"You're not even going to ask?" Olivia said with a bit of concern. She was looking forward to this party.

"No, cause fuck 'em. I don't give a shit about homecoming, especially not with a fourth of every team in this school harassing you and me too!"

Arthur looked concerned. "They've started bothering you too, Miss Mel? Just to get at Olivia?"

"I wish it was that simple but it would seem I have a very attractive personality for some of those meat heads!"

"Some men just like to be stepped on," Damian added. Olivia giggled at that. "Let me know what you figure out because I personally would love nothing more than to see my girlfriend in whatever hellish costume she comes up with and we're far too old for Trick-or-Treating."

"Then you should be motivated to help!" Melissa states. Olivia can feel the gears turning and smiles to herself. They were all trying to figure something out. "They haven't taken my budget from me but they know I only have so much wiggle room." Melissa rubbed at her temples. "God, if this is some stupid ploy to see how resourceful I can be I'll have to fucking prove them right! This is going to be the best party ever! Even if it fucking kills me!"


A sharp nail plucked a coily brown hair from Victor's sleeve and brought it up to green eyes to examine. "You need a lint roller," a platinum blond woman with an A-line bob cut said then flicked the strand into the air.

"And you need to keep your hands to yourself," Victor said from behind a black mask covering just the bridge of his nose down to his jawline. Beside him stood Daria Dimitrov, second child to Yuri Dimitrov of the Russian mob. She had a tall, slender frame made taller by the black high heels she wore.

Daria rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you are wearing that ridiculous mask."

"Because you have a tendency to take selfies when I'm not looking. I've no intention of my face getting plastered everywhere once we're done." The woman huffed then took out her phone to message who they were to get in contact with. In truth the mask was the further slimmed down version of his high tech mask. Through it he scrambled their cell phone signals to keep them from being tracked. He had a job to do and it was going to go off without a hitch.

"Are you sure you can trust this man?" he asked while leaning back in his seat.

"About as well as I can trust you." Daria glanced out the window and stepped out of the car. "Stay put." The young madam Dimitrov hurried across the street to a woman holding a small girl in her arms. She had similar features to Daria but took most after her mother carrying her. Upon spotting the suitcase Victor got out of his car and came around to open the trunk. His eyes were on the street, scanning every face that went by and waiting for any warning from Oracle.

The women raced back to the car and Victor took the case to put in the back. With a tap to the side of his mask, his eyes were covered and the contents within the baggage was examined. Clear. The mask reverted back to its more compact form around just his mouth and he closed the trunk. He did one last survey before getting back in the driver's seat.

"Who is this man, mama?" came a small voice from the backseat.

Victor peered into the rear-view mirror then looked to Daria beside him. "I'm a ghost." The girl huffed in disbelief. Once they were fastened in they pulled away from the apartment and cut through Gotham.

"Mama, where are we going?" the little girl asked while swinging her feet.

"We are going on a trip with your sister but it's a surprise," the woman said.

"Is mister ghost coming too?" she asked.

Daria smiled and looked at Victor. "I don't know. Are you coming with us, Mr. Ghost?" Victor arched a brow. "Sadly he cannot join us. He has to keep haunting the east side a bit longer. Perhaps after he will get to leave."

Their drive from the edge of Dimitrov's territory to the airport was going to be a long one. He let them play whatever music they wished while he kept his eyes out for anyone following them. It was a bold move to go along with smuggling Dimitrov's daughters and mistress out of the city. The request coming from one of them made it worth it. Daria understood that with growing instability in the underworld comes increased risk. Family members become bartering chips. She didn't want anything to happen to her half sister.

"You know, I'm wondering, Mister Ghost," Daria began while watching the ocean as they passed over one of Gotham's many long bridges beside the coast. "Why you didn't take my father's offer?"

"He was offering you, remember? Though I suspect you put that offer on the table for him," he explained. "I still prefer not to pick a side in all of this."

"But you seemed ready to back then." Her green eyes looked over him and she slipped a little closer. "What changed?"

"I got wiser. Found a better place for me. Oh...and you walked away." The stare he gave out of the corner of his eye was indifference.

"You can't still blame me for that. I was young."

"So was I."

"Yes but you have to admit, you were far more mature than I was." She reached out to gently tug at the cuff of his sleeve. He snatched her wrist and she saw for a moment something that terrified her in his eyes.

"Don't cling to the past, Daria. Especially not right now." He let her wrist go and she stuck to her side of the car. Her legs and arms were crossed and her rose painted lips turned down.

Once they arrived at AG International Airport Daria got them through security and on to a hangar where a private jet was waiting. The car was parked and Victor stepped out to survey the area before grabbing the suitcase out of the back and escorting the ladies to the plane. He gave one last scan of the plane and even poked in on the pilot who looked alarmed upon seeing him. Right, that mask was a little unsettling. Daria could at least keep her mouth shut about a job. At the base of the stairs she took hold of Victor's sleeve one last time.

With a sigh he turned back to look at her. "Come with us?" she asked one last time.

"I'm not leaving her," Victor explained and gently plucked Daria's finally manicured nails from his coat.

"So you're just going to wait for her to see what you're really like and then leave you?"

"Like you did?" There was ice behind his words.

"She's not meant for our world, Victor!"

"Neither were you once. Get on the plane and let me do my job," he explained while pulling one of his handguns from its holster. Daria hurried up the steps into the plane and Victor walked away. His mask was spread back over his face and he could get clear information on who were in the cars coming their way. Dimitrov's men. Seems daddy wasn't okay with his children fleeing the country. He checked the cartridge then took calculated shots at the tires.

The lead car spun out of control with one behind it slamming into the trunk, unable to swerve out of the way in time. The jet was on the move down the tarmac. The remaining car also had the tires shot out but the driver was skilled enough to maintain control. He'll get two flat tires to worry about then. That was enough to slow the men down. There was a bit of yelling while they got themselves situated and Victor laid down suppressive fire. The jet was reaching the speed it would need to get out of here and it was time for Victor to head back. He returned to his car, rode past and threw something from the glove box into the middle of the vehicles. A bright light and loud bang went off sewing confusion among the men. Victor spared one last glance to the jet in his mirror then headed for home.

Daria was wrong about Olivia. Victor held so much more back from Daria when they attempted something close to a relationship. As far as she was concerned she thought he was just another boy from the east end brave enough to talk to a mob princess. Olivia knew more than enough to understand what he was like without needing to show her. He hoped. He reduced the mask and considered a few things before changing course for The Iceberg Lounge. He needed to have some words with Oswald.

The lounge during the day is often empty save for the few patrons lingering in the front of the establishment meant for the general public. In the back, the real club, preparations were being done for the night but staff was scarce. What few faces watching Victor move through the building either welcomed him or stayed way out of his path. Oswald Cobblepot's office door was pushed open and Oz looked to the cameras that were being scrambled where Victor stood. Ogilvy shot up from his chair and received a barrel jammed past his teeth.

Oswald grumbled and sank back into his chair. "Ogilvy, I'll be fine. Make sure we're ready to open up tonight," Oswald insisted. Ogilvy didn't move, simply glared at Victor who looked at the man indifferent of his very existence. People were really trying him today but he had to give it to Iggy for standing his ground. That level of blind loyalty will get him far. "Now!" Oswald snapped. The man grumbled and Victor removed his gun from his face. He brushed past Victor and shut the door behind him.

"How are you scrambling my feeds?" Oswald asked. The cameras just in the office were malfunctioning.

"Don't worry about that." Oswald gave a grunt of a response. "What do you have on Gotham's own fighting Irish?" Victor asked while remaining standing.

Oswald looked the boy over and sat up straight in his chair. "Nothin' you don't already have."

"What has him so rattled?"

Oswald gestured to Victor. "...You."

Victor would tilt his head to the right, clenching his jaw. "Everyone is afraid of me, Oz. Excluding you. Just like you wanted. No one's talking to him, are they?"

"The other way around. He's shut everyone out. We tried to arrange negotiations between him and the Triad after that little mess at the docks. He refused to show. Doesn't want to risk coming across you in any capacity."

Victor narrowed his eyes. "He actually fucking said that?"

"Unprompted. He goes nowhere without a heavy entourage. Can you believe that shit?" Riley was a proud fighter and would not back down from a bare knuckle brawl. "Stopped throwing his men into the grinder. He wants to keep them close in case you come seeking revenge or something."

Victor clenched his fists. "Ancient history I've already dealt with."

Oswald chuckled. "He clearly don't see it like that. Whatever got up that man's ass has him weary of every move you make. But why are you here Zsasz? Homesick?" he jeered.

Brown eyes narrowed. "Courtesy call." He removed one of the patches from his jacket pocket and showed it to Oswald. "These are floating around. Something to do with a drug you might be familiar with called Venom." He watched Oswald tense then take a breath. "There's something else in them. Might be what's got Riley on edge if he's been using them himself." Oz reached for the patch and Victor pulled it back. "Why did you bother taking me in?"

Oswald grunts and looks off. "I guess it has been a while since you asked this. Like I keep telling ya, ballsy of a kid to try to shoot me! I saw potential. I only regret how smart you turned out. Caused as many problems as you solved."

"What makes you think I wasn't making those problems just to get paid to fix them?" he asked with a toothy smile.

"Cause you would get bored!" Victor smirked and bowed his head. "Heh, you're the only one I know that gets excited when new blood shows up cause you're waitin' for them to fuck up." Oswald arched a brow then sat back in his chair. Ever the observant man he took notice of everything that has changed about Victor. The most apparent? There was a more dangerous confidence about him, his wardrobe lasted longer and he was taking far better care of himself than before. When did this scrawny kid get so big? "Oh you're in deep," he scoffed.

"The fuck does that mean, old man?!"

"It means you're getting out. Don't burn too many bridges on the way. Hope this whole...love thing between you two kids is strong enough to face the truth."

Victor jammed his hands into his pockets. "Still won't tell me what you know about them?"

"You're a smart dog. Dig. Now get the fuck outta my office, Zsasz!" Victor throws up his hands and takes his leave back the way he slipped in. Ogilvy gave him a side-eye but Victor paid him no mind. The man continued to be insignificant. He finds hugs from Olivia more threatening.


There was a point in Gotham's history when Wayne Tower was the tallest building in the city. A spire that surveyed the northernmost island like a steel giant. A testament to what the Waynes have done for Gotham. Those years are long behind it. Along with the prestige of being the tallest. Today it watches over The Bowery. Now one of the more unfortunate sides of town gradually being built back up. Some years ago when the eldest of Bruce Wayne's adopted children needed room to grow the dome was converted into a lair away from the Batcave. Years after he moved on to a new city the youngest Robins have taken it up as their own with the eldest of the two primarily working out of it while attending college.

Damian stepped out of the ancient elevator into The Belfry pulling at the tie around his neck of his school uniform. Tim was behind the supercomputer making sense of the data he received from Jason. "I can't wait to be done with this mandatory tedium!" Damian sneered on his way to Tim's side.

"Still have no plans for when you graduate?" Tim asked while swiping through chemical compositions.

"Not everyone wants to be an overachiever like you. I'd rather focus on the work I can do behind the mask," Damian explains then looks over the information on the screen. "Still piecing things together?"

"Not any more!" Tim said with a smile. "Jason finally sent over the makeup for a patch hot off one of Bane's lines." He swiped to overlay it with the composition they had from the ones circulating Gotham. "There was something extra."

"So what is it?"

"Fear toxin!" Tim said then brought up a file they had on the substance Jonathan Crane often employed.

Damian arched a brow. "Are you sure?"

"After what information Jason got from Zsasz I am sure of it. He says Riley is getting paranoid and specifically afraid of Zsasz."

"Maybe he's realizing like everyone else that they can't control him?"

Tim shrugged. "We won't know until we can get a sample from Riley which at this point is going to be impossible. He's never alone and started holding up in his gym more and more."

"We'll have to put that on hold then. Do we know why Crane's back on the scene?" Tim looked to Damian. "Right, fear and chaos. So predictable. He went to ground years ago, why now?"

"Another thing to find out and hopefully quick. Something we can do right now is figuring out how to counteract this combination and finding where he's synthesizing it."

"I doubt Riley is behind that part. He wants new muscle not panicking gorillas. Though if Zsasz's intel is solid he may just want him dead. Riley is clearly a pawn. Crane has to be working with or for someone else." Damian's phone vibrates and he quickly checks the message he received. "I do know how much time we have until they make their move," he explained then held his phone out to Tim.

"...Great. Well we have time to call in favors...and get a costume together!"

"Always looking on the brighter side." Another message came through. This time an image from Olivia. "...Liv has chosen one hell of a theme to go with this year."