Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and works, if you recognise it from somewhere else, surprise it isn't mine.

The Alchemist

There are pros and cons of being given a new life, quite literally given the fact that I literally got blown up.

I made a little oopsies at the lab, because working under the influence of a lot of alcohol becomes a little more dangerous when you work with extremely volatile substances.

Naturally I regret absolutely nothing, it was a great party and if I hadn't accidentally blown up the lab it would have been really funny.

I was the only person in the lab anyway, so all I really did was inconvenience my employers and myself, and I worked for the government so I see that as a win.

Just because they paid my bills didn't mean I actually liked them. I'm not an anarchist or anything but also they made me pay taxes and now they can spend my taxes fixing the lab I blew up.

Being picked by some multidimensional guild to be reborn just made it a complete win, I didn't have much in my old world anyway, a few friends and hook-ups but no close family or anyone like that.

Given superpowers is another massive win, and getting sent to a new world just made everything better since my world was kinda boring.

Downside? I got tricked by my new boss, Kuro T (it's important you add the T because there's two of the fuckers).

He talked me into taking some extra bonuses at the start, at the cost of a more difficult starter world and location.

He's a charismatic bastard who obviously finds other people suffering funny, but also he gave me a second life with super powers so I can't really dislike him.

Still, I can't really complain with how my second life is going despite my somewhat inconvenient location.

Eating my shitty prison food, I watch with a smirk as Bane demolishes a dozen Penguin thugs. Morons, sure he doesn't have access to Venom in Arkham but he's still fucking Bane.

The guards don't even bother getting involved as he wrecks them, but the guards at Arkham don't actually care about infighting as long as none of the… important prisoners get injured.

Doctor Strange (the creepy one, not the magic one) only really cares about the prisoners he finds interesting after all, which means the actual supervillains. The dime-a-dozen thugs don't tend to survive if they don't keep their heads down.

Oddly enough, we have a lot of freedom in here, it's all a big experiment obviously but it works out if you're smart.

They offer desserts and occasionally even booze at the prison cafeteria, but in far too limited supplies, which is what led to this particular fight.

Oof, that guy is not gonna be walking again. Bane does like breaking backs, doesn't he?

Eating my pudding as I watch the show, seeing the envious looks thrown my way, but nobody is going to actually try and take it from me.

It's worth noting that I'm probably the smallest guy in this place (it used to be the Penguin but he got out). I also have no real muscles or fighting skills, so why then are the thugs avoiding me?

Well, I didn't go and get my own lunch, my lunch-mate did.

"The fuck you looking at?" Waylon growls, making some Two-Face thugs who got a little too close quickly decide to move elsewhere, unwilling to get within arms reach of the cannibalistic Killer Croc. "That's what I fucking thought."

Nibbling at my pudding, I simply chuckle to myself as I eat. You don't need to be the biggest guy around when you know the right people.

Honestly, Arkham isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things. It'd even say it has its advantages over the outside world, there's great opportunities for networking, amongst other benefits.

What can I say, I'm an optimist. Always look on the bright side of life and all that.

Because the truth is, Arkham isn't a jail, it's a temporary time-out corner for naughty villains. We all know we aren't here to stay, no matter what our sentences are.

Oh, you have multiple life sentences? You'll be out in six months to a year, and we all know it.

The guards don't want to risk pissing off a villain who they know will be free in a few months because they don't want that villain to remember them.

In the same vein, it's why people don't mess with me. Sure, I'm basically defenceless now but when I get out?

Well, a lot of them want to be on my good side. Waylon and Bane both watch my back, because they know I'll remember it when we all get out of here.

Sure, the ones who don't like me could try and kill me, people die here all the time after all, and they could probably pull it off if they catch me alone.

But there's a slight problem with that.

Finishing up, I give Waylon a pat in the back as he snorts and nods, heading towards my next appointment.

Heading out of the cafeteria, I follow the guard who was waiting for me out of the prison area and towards a familiar destination.

Arkham follows the ancient tradition of using prisoners as free labour, though the free is subjective in this term as I head into the office.

"Ah, Mr Kingsley, right on time as always," Hugo Strange says, his dumb glasses glinting as he sits behind his desk. "I require the same as last time, everything is already prepared."

As he speaks, he gestured to a desk that has some frankly medieval equipment sat on it, basically useless to most people.

But not to me.

You see, I'm an Alchemist, and even in prison my skills are in very high demand.

"That won't be a problem," I say with a smile, cracking my knuckles as I take a seat and get to work, happy to be back to work.

Working for the prison administrator gives me a lot of leeway, and it means that people who mess with me have the guards come down on them rather hard.

I make alchemical drugs for him, and if I happen to pocket a vial on my way out, he certainly doesn't say anything.

All in all, it's good to be a prisoner. I might even miss this place when I inevitably get out of here.

Strange is very careful to make sure I don't escape, because he likes having a pet alchemist at his beck and call, but at the end of the day… This is still Arkham.

They might as well install revolving doors on the all cells.

Sorry Batsy, but you really aren't making a difference.

— Later —

"The Penguin sends his regards," the thug says as he quickly hands over the sealed package, moving on as I step back into my cell and close the door with a smile, taking a seat on my comfy double bed.

Working for Strange has its advantages and a better bed was the first thing I asked for. My prison cell resembles a fairly fancy hotel room far more than it does an actual cell, a gilded cage indeed.

Unwrapping the package, I smile as I put the cigars and expensive whiskey bottle on my bedside table. There's also quite a few sweets in the package, and some good chocolate. I have a bit of a sweet tooth.

Ah, I can always count on you can't I, Cobblepot?

I used to make drugs for him when I was on the outside, or that's part of my 'backstory' at least. He keeps me happy while I'm inside so I'll keep him rich when I get out.

It's a mutually beneficial relationship, which is my favourite type of relationship.

Speaking of mutual benefit…

Turning to my current roommate, I give her a smirk as she bites her lip.

"You promise you won't tell Mr J?" Harley asks in that oh so iconic accent of hers.

She's still deluding herself into thinking she has a relationship with the Joker, who I know for a fact doesn't give a singular fuck about her, but nobody is perfect.

"Of course I won't," I say, watching as she pauses before she reaches up and starts to unzip the front of her ugly orange jumpsuit, revealing her pale, naked body.

I don't know how she gets her Harley makeup in prison, but I can't exactly talk considering all the creature comforts I have.

Like I said, prison life is pretty damn good.

Though, that said…

There's a big wide world out there, and I think it's time I see outside beyond these prison walls, and as Harley starts her end of our bargain, moving to her knees between my legs, I smile to myself.

I've spent months preparing for my escape, and I can definitely bust out my favourite prisoners as well.

— Three days later—

Are you fucking serious?

"Tristan Kingsley, also known as the Plague Doctor," Batgirl says with a glower as I blink, sitting up and pushing Poison Ivy off my chest. "You're awfully comfortable for someone serving a life sentence."

Ivy is a lightweight, and she just lets out a snore and rolls over as I move off the bed.

"I was more comfortable before you and your silent friend showed up. Anyway, why so distant? We used to be such good friends…" I say with a chuckle.

I got caught because I got Batman's attention… by using a mixture of alchemical drugs to mind-control Batgirl into being my enforcer when she got a little too close to my operations.

Which is why I'm not particularly surprised when her glare intensifies for a moment before she relaxes. Tall, dark and angry behind her hasn't stopped glaring at me since I woke up, but Batwoman has a worse sense of humour than the Big Bad Bat himself.

Her glare is far less intimidating though, there's something about the signature Batglare that truly terrifies me, even when I know that under that mask is just Bruce Wayne.

"We need your help," Batgirl finally says, ignoring my taunts as I blink. "And a full pardon has been authorised if you can help solve this… crisis."

I spent more than planning my escape just to get a pardon? I'm actually kinda insulted.

"This isn't optional," Batwoman says, finally speaking up.

"Why would you need my help with any-" I start, thinking hard before I trail off. "…someone fucked with the stuff you took from my lab, didn't they?"

When I was arrested, they confiscated a massive lab full of experiments, equipment and ingredients. What Strange managed to get his hands on was just the smallest sample of my equipment.

The silence is telling, which makes me chuckle.

"You guys really suck at securing your evidence, and I say this as someone who has stolen a metric shit-ton from you before," I deadpan. "So, what did I miss while I was on vacation?"

"Prison isn't a vacation," Batwoman growls, again she's just not as intimidating as the real deal, and as I turn to look from the booze and sweets on my table to the naked girl in my bed I simply turn back with a small smile.

I don't need to say anything, and she knows it.

"Aresia, a rogue Amazon, stole your equipment and managed to use your notes to create a plague that is spreading through the entire world, making men fall into a coma and slowly waste away. It's extremely virulent and has already affected most of the world, including many members of the League. We need your help to cure it," Batgirl finally admits, making me blink.

Bullshit, even following my notes there's no way she could have pulled that off. Alchemy isn't that simple, no amateur could manage to make such a virulent plague no matter how much beginners luck they had. That said, they seem to believe it and they have little reason to lie.

Oh yeah… what happened to my apprentice? Well, I say apprentice but it's more like an artificial created life form I made to do the tedious work.

She should have gone to ground and hidden in my second lab, but I did give her a command to look for a way to free me if I stayed locked up for too long… how long have I been locked up again?

Oh dear.

"Huh, that's why all the guys look ill? I thought it was a particularly bad cold. Sure is a good time to be immune to my own creations. You guys really fucked up," I say with a smile.

The two glares intensify for a moment, not exactly thrilled at my carefree behaviour.

"But, I'm a kind and generous man, so let's talk about what you're going to give me for my help," I say, making the glares grow into true Batglares.

Aww, they managed to pull it off. I'm sure Bruce is pro- No wait, he's probably in a coma and currently dying. Well, if he survives I'm sure he'll be proud.

"I already said-"

"Oh, I'm not that interested in a pardon, I quite like it here, and I can't say being the last man on earth sounds too bad either so as I said… let's discuss how you're going to make it worth my while."

All in all, my second life is pretty fun.