31 I AM... #31

Author's note: for some reason, I remembered a role playing gig I used to do a lot before chapters while I was writing my first DC fic. I thought why not start over, and even give it a bit of an upgrade, and so here we are. 

In the eerie depths of the Whispering Abyss, where shadows dance to a haunting tune, you emerge victorious from the aftermath of battling a group of goblins. As the echoes of combat fade, a spectral figure materializes from the essence of a defeated goblin, donned in dark robes. Mordrak, the Rhyming Shade, appears with an enigmatic grin.

Mordrak: (speaking in rhythmic verses) Well done, valiant soul, in the Whispering Abyss you stroll. From the shadows, I emerge, Mordrak, the Rhyming Shade, with a tale to urge. A choice before you, like a mystical game, surrender Power Stones or dance with my spectral flame.

Here's the twist, a poetic bind, hand over the stones, and solace you'll find. Reject, and prepare for the cosmic jest, every fortnight, a test to your quest. Drop your phone in toilet waters unclean or step on Lego bricks, a scene quite obscene.

The choice is yours:

Relinquish at least one Power Stone, and in rhyme, your fate disown.

Refuse, and embrace the spectral dance, a fortnightly rhyme and mischief trance.

....

"Still... this fellow sure doesn't know when to quit," I mused, eyes fixed on Grundy as his wild flailing became a symphony of chaos, rats catapulting in every direction like furry fireworks.

"I'm fresh out of ideas... do you have any?" I shot a glance at Catwoman, hoping she had a hidden card up her leather-clad sleeve.

"Nope. Grundy is pretty much unbeatable," she admitted, a nonchalant shake of her head. "No matter how hard you smack him down, he's like a stubborn rash that won't go away. The best we can do is keep him on a leash for a bit."

"Hold him off, eh? To what end?" I raised an eyebrow, playing stupid. What end could it be other than to buy for the big bad boogyman of Gotham to arrive?

"Buy some time until a certain caped someone makes an entrance," she said with a sly grin. "Speaking of the devil..." A casual tilt of her chin directed my attention behind.

I pivoted, and lo and behold, emerging from the shadows was the embodiment of the night's vengeance himself – Batman. 

His cape flowed dramatically in the wind as he descended, with a smaller, less intimidating figure tagging along – Robin, presumably. The dynamic duo had finally decided to grace us with their presence, fashionably late.

Touching down with all the flair superheroes could muster, the duo – Batman and his trusty sidekick Robin – didn't waste a moment before springing into action. They strategically surrounded Grundy, creating a dynamic pincer movement.

As Grundy began to shake off the last remnants of the rat horde, Batman and Robin executed their synchronized attack. Batarangs whizzed through the air, not directly hitting Grundy but curving mid-flight, metal wires attached to them. 

Like a well-choreographed dance, the wires wrapped around the undead behemoth, creating an intricate metallic web.

Batman and Robin's assault seemed to further fuel Grundy's rage. His roar echoed through the night as he thrashed against his metallic restraints, but all he achieved was embedding the sharp wires deeper into his rotting flesh.

Batman, with his typical stoic demeanor, closed in for the finishing move. He attached a bat-shaped device – because, of course, what other shape would it be? – onto Grundy's body. With a decisive click, the device activated, bathing Grundy in a brilliant blue light. Electric arcs crackled in the air as the undead giant received a shock potent enough to fry a whale.

Grundy's struggles ceased abruptly, and he crumpled to the ground. His eyes rolled back, and smoke billowed from his gaping mouth.

As Grundy's colossal form crashed to the ground, Batman swiftly turned, fixing me with his infamous Bat-Glare. Instinctively, I almost took a step back. That glare had a reputation, and while it might not rival the Ghost Rider's Penance Stare, it was no joke, you know?

Batman, his cape billowing in the aftermath of the takedown, approached me with a demeanor that screamed, "You're not my favorite person right now." His displeasure didn't require any subtlety.

"You. What are you doing in my city again?" Batman questioned the intensity of his gaze enough to make anyone question their life choices.

Responding to the Bat-Inquisition, I offered Batman a blank stare and nonchalantly started picking my ear with my pinky. "Just strolling in the public streets of Gotham City, you know, enjoying the views," I casually replied.

 "Wasn't aware I was trespassing on private property," I added, putting my pinky in front of my mouth and blowing my findings in Batman's direction. 

In my peripheral vision, I caught a glimpse of Robin staring at me like I'd lost my mind, while Catwoman observed the whole exchange with thinly veiled amusement.

Batman, the epitome of stoicism, remained unfazed by my less-than-polite ear-picking display. "Fine. Stay if you wish, but I'll be keeping my eyes on you," he declared, his voice as stern as ever. If this were a cartoon, Robin's jaw would have likely hit the floor. 

Well, judging by the look on the Boy Wonder's face, it seemed the cartoonish expression might just play out in reality. Not that Batman's words should have come as a shock. 

On my first visit to Gotham, I practically danced with death courtesy of Two-Face, narrowly escaping the grave thanks to Rattigan's intervention. Back then, Batman had valid reasons to usher me out of the city—for my safety and his peace of mind, given Rattigan's unique and uncertain background.

However, this time around, things were different. I had assisted Catwoman, showing I can take care of myself, ensuring no casualties and even going the extra mile by persuading Rattigan to have the rats simply restrain the undead brute instead of biting him. 

It wouldn't have done anything but add to the undead behemoth's agony. Evidently, that was enough to put me in Batman's good books. After all, he was known to have a soft spot for villains with tragic backstories. Go figure.

Understanding Batman wasn't always a straightforward task for most people in this world, but my comic book knowledge gave me a unique insight. While earning his trust might not be a walk in the park, it was certainly manageable, though the word "trust" might be too strong to use in the caped crusader's case. 

Heck, the man didn't even trust himself. Still, I'll take being tolerated over doubted any time of the day. 

"So you've had a rendezvous with Bats? Now, that's a surprise," Catwoman's voice rang out from behind. I turned, offering a nonchalant shrug. "Had a little adventure with him and Two-Face that started with a missile flying straight toward my face... long story," I shared, condensing the chaos into a brief sentence. 

I couldn't help but pause as I noticed the sly grin on Catwoman's face, and it only took me a moment to realize my mistake. 

Reality hit me like a Batmobile. "He's vanished, hasn't he?" I questioned, met with a nonchalant shrug from Catwoman – an expression translating to a silent prompt, "Turn around and find out." 

Yet, I resisted the temptation. "That's a sucker's game... he's definitely gone," I dismissed with an indifferent shrug. Batman was an expert not only in brooding and paranoia but also in the art of masterful disappearing acts.

"So, you caught on to the disappearing act after just one encounter, huh? That's quite the feat," Catwoman remarked with a chuckle. The amusement in her voice was accompanied by genuine curiosity. "Who are you, really?" she inquired.

I couldn't resist a theatrical response. Smirking, I raised my hand to my face, conjuring an imaginary cape to cover half of it. "I am the night! I am vengeance. I am BATMAN!" I declared, putting on the most convincing Caped Crusader impression my acting skills could muster.

Catwoman erupted into laughter, and judging by the system notification I received, I wasn't the only one who found my little act amusing. That's Gotham City for you—everyone is everywhere, watching everything. 

It was an unexpected, but pleasant bonus. I'd probably be more grateful if the notifications weren't full of question marks, though. 

"You're the one who asked for a Batman expression," I replied with a nonchalant shrug. "But in all seriousness, I'm Micah Foster," I added, extending a casual introduction.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, but I've got people to rob and places to pick clean," Catwoman declared with a nod, brandishing her whip. "I'll see you later... if you're lucky enough," she added, punctuating her departure with a wink, unleashing her whip and swinging away in true Catwoman fashion.

Watching Catwoman gracefully make her exit, I instinctively checked my pockets to ensure she hadn't pulled off any unexpected heists. To my relief, everything was still in place. You could never be too careful with a kleptomaniac like Catwoman, after all.

"Well, that was a productive afternoon, if there ever was one..." I muttered to myself, barely holding back a grin. I brought up the system's interface and took a peek at my point balance. "730 points... close to 600 in one go, not bad..." I mused, contemplating the idea of making Gotham my stomping ground in the near future. 

It was undeniably a gold mine of points, what with so many villains and heroes prowling the streets.

"How about it, big guy? Do you think we'd do well in this city?" I asked as I turned to Rattigan, and he merely let out a chitter of indifference, clearly not too bothered by the notion. 

...

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