Home Field (part 5)
Mr Zoat
Dedicated ragequitter
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6th February 2013
08:53 GMT -5
"Recognized, Match, B Two Five."
A flash of light, then I'm in a Gotham back alley blinking spots out of my eyes. It's not that I can see zeta radiation-. Though I can. It's more that I see all the other radiation, and then the techniques I use to stop myself getting blinded by all the colors and shapes mean that when it stops and I'm in a street somewhere, the contrast of the new much more simple lights makes it like a normal human just walked out of somewhere with blinding lights and into a pitch black room.
Superman said he didn't really find it a problem. I don't know if that's because he grew up normally like this, or if there's… Something left over from Cadmus that means I can't. Guess I'll find out in a few years.
There are a couple of zeta tubes in Gotham, but the one Artemis usually uses got spotted by Mistress's gang last month. They didn't do anything to it except watch it, but that amounts to pretty much the same thing. The clothes I'm wearing should let me fit in, though we've noticed that people who've… Let the Anti-Life in and.. not killed themselves, can generally notice when they're talking to someone who isn't… Who hasn't gone that far. And we know that because in a lot of places the people in charge send teams out to kidnap them so they can break them.
Mistress hasn't really done that. Might be because she used to be a good person. Or it might be because she figures that Gotham's going to do that for her.
I mean, something about this place was driving people crazy-.
I spot a security patrol. Four Anti-Lifed people under Mistress's control, wearing handcuffs double cuffed around their left wrists. Other than that they're just wearing gang clothes… One of them looks like he used to work for the Joker, but the rest look… 'Normal'. No sign they're afraid of me, or even bothered about a potential outsider being on 'their' street.
I tap my communicator, telling them it's not clear to come through. Until the enforcers move away, the rest of the team will have to come in through Wayne Manor. And then I walk over to them.
Like I'm walking to the chopping-.
Huh. Been a while since I've felt like that in a city without a transmitter. Robin was right about people broadcasting it without help.
"Hey."
Four sets of eyes staring at me. They're armed, but they don't have anything that could hurt me. I'm not even sure if open carrying is illegal in Gotham or not, but if it isn't then they're not actually breaking the law.
"Worm."
One thing people don't know about Superman is that he's a great actor. Even when you know that he's Clark Kent, he acts like a totally different guy. Except when he's around his parents and he acts like himself. But it's not genetic or anything. He had to study to learn how to do that. I haven't. I can fit in most of the time, but I know I don't respond to situations that would be dangerous to a normal guy in the way normal guys do. I probably should be nervous about talking to them, but I'm not.
Not that they're reacting to it. I take a quick look at the electrical activity in their brains, and it's… It's zen-like, like they're perfectly fine with whatever's happening around them. Or to them.
"Hey, can you..?"
They keep staring at me. That's probably intimidating to normal people.
"Tell me..? What does Mistress want?"
They stand a little straighter when I say her name.
The clown guy's eyes narrow a little. "What do you mean, worm?"
"Mistress rules the city."
"And you better remember it."
"So what does she want to do with it? What does she want us to do?"
"Surrender yourself to her."
"Like, just go to wherever she-."
I see his fist coming a mile away, and I turn my head with the punch so he doesn't break all his fingers.
"No, worm. You have felt the despair. The desolation."
"Yeah, that's… That's why I'm asking, man. You guys… You guys look like you're fine, so… Is that it? We just..? We do what she says-."
"You do not understand."
The clown points down the street, where there's a-.
Someone killed themselves by sitting in a car while it filled up with exhaust fumes. The body isn't fresh.
"Attachment is the root of all pain. Ego. Self. That man killed himself because he saw how flimsy his pathetic self was and couldn't cope. He fought the truth. He fought Mistress."
"So she killed him?"
"So he rejected her by ending his own life, rather than accept truth and transformation. It was the realisation that he wasn't what he thought he was and his attachment to that which killed him."
"So just… Don't be attached?"
"It's not that simple." He takes off his purple top hat and waves it at me. "I used to work for the Joker, you know?"
"I… I guessed..?"
"He liked keeping his people off-balance. One time he gave a guy a gag cigar. Blew his head right off. At the time it scared the shit out of me, but I needed the money. And it was kind of funny when it happened to someone else."
Man, Gotham sucks.
"And not funny when it happened to you. But after a while, it was just part of life. Not really worth talking about. One time, Joker was pissed about something and pointed a gun at my face… I just didn't react. He didn't like that so much."
"He shot you?"
"No. Said there wasn't any point. But right it that moment, when the gun barrel was an inch from my eye? I wasn't scared or angry. I wasn't thinking about all the things I could have done. I wasn't thinking anything except 'huh, okay'."
That's… Messed up. Most of Joker's henchmen are just regular criminals or people who are desperate and out of work.
"And now… It's like that, all the time. If Mistress pointed a gun at my face, and pulled the trigger -or didn't- I wouldn't think much of anything either. Or if she told me to walk out into traffic. Or eat my own intestines. 'Huh.' 'Okay.'"
One of the other henchmen nods. "It's inspiring, really. He got that far before Mistress even took over."
"But how do you get like that? I mean-."
"You just… Get used to it. To not mattering. To just… Being, as part of Mistress."
Four near-identical nods.
"I don't think I get-."
The clown draws his pistol-
The guy he's pointing it at smiles. "Huh."
"I get it-!"
"Okay."
-and the clown shoots him in the head.
There's no particular expression on his face as his body falls over. The other two don't look bothered, either. On their faces or in their brains.
Damn it. I could probably have stopped him, but then my cover's blown and there's nothing to stop them killing someone else when I'm not here. Which is what usually happens when someone from the Justice League tried talking to these people.
"That-."
"It's a demonstration. For you, and for whoever you're asking for. Do you want to learn more?"
If I say 'yes' then he'll probably shoot one of the others, and then himself. The last one will report back to whoever's in charge…
I don't need to know what they know that badly.
"I-. I think I'm good. Ah, thanks."
"Then you're not ready for Mistress. Scram."
08:53 GMT -5
"Recognized, Match, B Two Five."
A flash of light, then I'm in a Gotham back alley blinking spots out of my eyes. It's not that I can see zeta radiation-. Though I can. It's more that I see all the other radiation, and then the techniques I use to stop myself getting blinded by all the colors and shapes mean that when it stops and I'm in a street somewhere, the contrast of the new much more simple lights makes it like a normal human just walked out of somewhere with blinding lights and into a pitch black room.
Superman said he didn't really find it a problem. I don't know if that's because he grew up normally like this, or if there's… Something left over from Cadmus that means I can't. Guess I'll find out in a few years.
There are a couple of zeta tubes in Gotham, but the one Artemis usually uses got spotted by Mistress's gang last month. They didn't do anything to it except watch it, but that amounts to pretty much the same thing. The clothes I'm wearing should let me fit in, though we've noticed that people who've… Let the Anti-Life in and.. not killed themselves, can generally notice when they're talking to someone who isn't… Who hasn't gone that far. And we know that because in a lot of places the people in charge send teams out to kidnap them so they can break them.
Mistress hasn't really done that. Might be because she used to be a good person. Or it might be because she figures that Gotham's going to do that for her.
I mean, something about this place was driving people crazy-.
I spot a security patrol. Four Anti-Lifed people under Mistress's control, wearing handcuffs double cuffed around their left wrists. Other than that they're just wearing gang clothes… One of them looks like he used to work for the Joker, but the rest look… 'Normal'. No sign they're afraid of me, or even bothered about a potential outsider being on 'their' street.
I tap my communicator, telling them it's not clear to come through. Until the enforcers move away, the rest of the team will have to come in through Wayne Manor. And then I walk over to them.
Like I'm walking to the chopping-.
Huh. Been a while since I've felt like that in a city without a transmitter. Robin was right about people broadcasting it without help.
"Hey."
Four sets of eyes staring at me. They're armed, but they don't have anything that could hurt me. I'm not even sure if open carrying is illegal in Gotham or not, but if it isn't then they're not actually breaking the law.
"Worm."
One thing people don't know about Superman is that he's a great actor. Even when you know that he's Clark Kent, he acts like a totally different guy. Except when he's around his parents and he acts like himself. But it's not genetic or anything. He had to study to learn how to do that. I haven't. I can fit in most of the time, but I know I don't respond to situations that would be dangerous to a normal guy in the way normal guys do. I probably should be nervous about talking to them, but I'm not.
Not that they're reacting to it. I take a quick look at the electrical activity in their brains, and it's… It's zen-like, like they're perfectly fine with whatever's happening around them. Or to them.
"Hey, can you..?"
They keep staring at me. That's probably intimidating to normal people.
"Tell me..? What does Mistress want?"
They stand a little straighter when I say her name.
The clown guy's eyes narrow a little. "What do you mean, worm?"
"Mistress rules the city."
"And you better remember it."
"So what does she want to do with it? What does she want us to do?"
"Surrender yourself to her."
"Like, just go to wherever she-."
I see his fist coming a mile away, and I turn my head with the punch so he doesn't break all his fingers.
"No, worm. You have felt the despair. The desolation."
"Yeah, that's… That's why I'm asking, man. You guys… You guys look like you're fine, so… Is that it? We just..? We do what she says-."
"You do not understand."
The clown points down the street, where there's a-.
Someone killed themselves by sitting in a car while it filled up with exhaust fumes. The body isn't fresh.
"Attachment is the root of all pain. Ego. Self. That man killed himself because he saw how flimsy his pathetic self was and couldn't cope. He fought the truth. He fought Mistress."
"So she killed him?"
"So he rejected her by ending his own life, rather than accept truth and transformation. It was the realisation that he wasn't what he thought he was and his attachment to that which killed him."
"So just… Don't be attached?"
"It's not that simple." He takes off his purple top hat and waves it at me. "I used to work for the Joker, you know?"
"I… I guessed..?"
"He liked keeping his people off-balance. One time he gave a guy a gag cigar. Blew his head right off. At the time it scared the shit out of me, but I needed the money. And it was kind of funny when it happened to someone else."
Man, Gotham sucks.
"And not funny when it happened to you. But after a while, it was just part of life. Not really worth talking about. One time, Joker was pissed about something and pointed a gun at my face… I just didn't react. He didn't like that so much."
"He shot you?"
"No. Said there wasn't any point. But right it that moment, when the gun barrel was an inch from my eye? I wasn't scared or angry. I wasn't thinking about all the things I could have done. I wasn't thinking anything except 'huh, okay'."
That's… Messed up. Most of Joker's henchmen are just regular criminals or people who are desperate and out of work.
"And now… It's like that, all the time. If Mistress pointed a gun at my face, and pulled the trigger -or didn't- I wouldn't think much of anything either. Or if she told me to walk out into traffic. Or eat my own intestines. 'Huh.' 'Okay.'"
One of the other henchmen nods. "It's inspiring, really. He got that far before Mistress even took over."
"But how do you get like that? I mean-."
"You just… Get used to it. To not mattering. To just… Being, as part of Mistress."
Four near-identical nods.
"I don't think I get-."
The clown draws his pistol-
The guy he's pointing it at smiles. "Huh."
"I get it-!"
"Okay."
-and the clown shoots him in the head.
There's no particular expression on his face as his body falls over. The other two don't look bothered, either. On their faces or in their brains.
Damn it. I could probably have stopped him, but then my cover's blown and there's nothing to stop them killing someone else when I'm not here. Which is what usually happens when someone from the Justice League tried talking to these people.
"That-."
"It's a demonstration. For you, and for whoever you're asking for. Do you want to learn more?"
If I say 'yes' then he'll probably shoot one of the others, and then himself. The last one will report back to whoever's in charge…
I don't need to know what they know that badly.
"I-. I think I'm good. Ah, thanks."
"Then you're not ready for Mistress. Scram."
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...And now I'm picturing Match with a long, late-90's Superman mullet...
