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The Demon's Gift (DCU, SI/OC)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by The_Great_NPC, Nov 6, 2022.

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  1. Lumagle

    Lumagle Not too sore, are you?

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    friend when you write well you write well. In addition, another interesting option that I want to see if you dare is several vampires from different series reacting to hellsing abridged. Because I know that at least trivago's dracula would react exasperated.
     
  2. Threadmarks: Chapter 8 - A relaxing night...
    The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    Chapter 8 - A relaxing night...

    — — — — —

    Walking home after that fight was not an enjoyable experience. The burning pain in my arm didn’t fade until I got back and removed the bullet, then drank a bucket of water to kickstart my regeneration.

    As my flesh knit itself back together, I washed my hand so many times. I knew I had to write the message, but getting the blood out of them was an experience I never want to recreate. So gross. I took out the dude’s heart, because I figured “Hey, that probably has all of the blood I’ll need for the message in it!” and it didn’t. Newsflash dumbass, the heart just moves it all around. Decided to just stick it in the ground and act like it was a decision I made on purpose.

    Once I feel my body is in a good enough condition, I go pass out for the night and when I wake, I turn on the news, no way they don’t talk about what happened.

    “Last night, an altercation between the ‘East Enders’ gang and Lycaon got bloody. The gang did not take kindly to Lycaon setting up a safe zone, and assaulted citizens inside of it. When Lycaon retaliated, and wiped out the rest of the gang. There were 16 casualties, one of the members of the gang was even carved open so Lycaon could write a message, ‘Punishment’ in his blood. Lycaon has been deemed unstable and dangerous by police officials, and if you see him, we urge you to go somewhere safe and call the Police. If you believe you may know something to aid in the investigation, please the GCPD tip line at—” Yeah I’ve heard enough. ‘Dangerous and unstable’ isn’t going to do wonders for any future diplomacy though. At least they told people what happens if you were to ignore my warning.

    I play with my newest power after shutting off the TV. Summoning my costume, and dispelling it back to my closet. The summoning process takes the form of blue flames that rise around my body, and take the shape of everything that I wear and use as Lycaon. When I dispel them they get turned into wisps of flame that float into the air before extinguishing themselves. I played with that for a good 30 minutes, just admiring the colours. In the process I learned that I don’t have to summon everything at the same time, I could leave my rifle behind, and just summon it to me when I need it.

    I tried summoning ammo directly to my hand as well, but that didn’t work until I created a designated spot for the ammo on my costume. Now I can do it, and it feels cool as hell to just have flames turn into a bullet on the palm of your hand.

    I swing by the gym to see if they’ve heard about last night, and they did. The overall consensus among the members was to ‘avoid the shit outta that place’ to not provoke me. See, brutal slaughter is the best way to dissuade the unwanted.

    I’m in a relatively good mood after that, so I decided to go and tour the city a little bit. After all, you always have to relax after a job well done. The first thing I’m going to do is check the library and see if there’s any cool stories I wouldn’t be able to find back home. After that maybe I’ll walk by the police department just so I know where it is. I’ve heard this place has a music hall as well, so I’ll check if they’re playing anything tonight.

    When I walked into the library, on the start of my Relaxation Tour, I remembered that Barbara worked here. How did my genius brain remember that? She greeted me. Just a normal, “Hi, anything I can help you with?” ruined any chance I had of having fun in this building. I can’t just walk out either. That’s either super suspicious or it makes me look like I’m afraid of women. Unacceptable on either end.

    “Nah, I’m just browsing today.” God, I hope that sounded normal. I don’t wanna give anything away because of my tone of voice. Am I overrating the detectives in training? Maybe, but it’s better to be paranoid than cocky when it comes to this sort of thing.

    “Alright, if you have any questions you can find me here.” And she looks back to her computer’s screen. Victory! Let’s get as far away from her as I can and start browsing.

    I find a wide assortment of books, (did you know Stephen King exists here?) and most of the dimensional deviance once again takes the form of a shitload of superhero settings. Every genre has its own subgenre of superhero novels. Romance has the enemies to lovers trope in abundance with heroes and villains getting it on, horror usually features a villain going way too damn far, and so on. Though it was interesting to glimpse into this world's culture, I won’t lie, I want some more variety. Ah well, I’m sure there is some interesting shit here, I’ll just close my eyes and…

    I grab a few random ones off the shelves, and realize that I’m going to have to talk to Barbara again. I mean, she’s in work mode right? She won’t notice anything off about little old me, surely?

    I place the books in front of her, and get out my library card. She just stares at me for a second before scanning my books. I wonder what that hesitation was all about until I see that the first three books in the stack I handed to her were taken off the romance shelf. Specifically, the section for trashy smut. She scans “The Huntress’ Prey”, followed by “Law of the Winner” and “Amazonian Male”. Am I a freak now, in this world? I keep a straight face, barely, but does that make me weirder? I mean, who can meet someone for the first time and go straight to showing them the smut they partake in with a straight face? At least the last three were more normal. Just a dime a dozen Hero saves the day stories.

    “Would you like a bag? They’re only 15 dollars and support keeping the library running?” And here I thought the government kept libraries open. Then again, this is Gotham. They probably need the cash injection. Ah well, not like I’m going to display my smut to everyone on the bus too.

    “Yeah, alright.” She puts my books into a reusable tote bag with ‘Gotham Library, good reading for everyone!’ printed on the side. A terrible tagline. She informs my that my books are due back in a month, and I thank her and get the fuck out of there. We are supposed to be bitter enemies, she’s not supposed to be my supplier for lewd novels!

    I ditch the rest of my trip, because even though it was my fault I ran into her, my luck would have me run into Tim and Bruce and trip over them, knocking the books free of my bag and letting them also know what I’m going to spend my free time doing for the next month. At least I can get started on these quickly.

    — — — — —

    Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be ashamed. “The Huntress’ Prey” is surprisingly well written, and if the other novels stay up to this standard, I am definitely in for a good time. I’m halfway through the book but I’ll have to put it down for now. It’s patrol time.

    I leave my apartment and go a few blocks over before calling my costume and starting the patrol properly. I can’t always leave my apartment in costume or people would find out where I live eventually. Today, there were no gang-bangers, no incursions by the mafia, just a very dull night. I walk for hours, take a break with some snacks after terrifying that poor cashier at the convenience store, (don't know why he was so scared, I paid for my shit) and amuse myself by summoning and dismissing my rifle, over and over again.

    I check the time when I go past the store again, and find out it’s been nearly 5 hours since I started, with nothing happening. I’m about to turn in for the night when I turn a corner and get blindsided and knocked to the ground by what I can only assume to be god himself, because that fucking hurt.

    I cast Quen on myself, and try to pick myself up off the floor, but I feel my shield shatter and then my head gets stomped into the ground. I feel someone grab my arm, and reflexively cast Aard, palm facing what I believe to be the person beating the shit out of me. He teaches me that I shouldn’t use Aard on someone holding on to me by using the force I’ve applied to him against me. He lets it send him flying and uses the momentum gained to pull me with him, throwing me over his shoulder and slamming my face into the ground once more. Thank god for this helmet, or I’d have a mangled nose, and have more teeth missing than not.

    At this point, I have a pretty good idea of who I’m… Well, fighting would be a bit gratuitous. This is me existing in the same space as Batman, as he shows me what real combat skills look like. I should’ve seen this coming honestly. I mean, carving some guy's heart out probably puts you pretty high on his shit-list.

    He kneels on my back and goes for my arms again, and this time I cast Igni instead, he pauses and does something behind me, never letting go of my arm in the process. Just ignoring Igni completely. Afterwards he places something over one of my hands, the left, and I start to panic, realizing what his plan to deal with me was. I need to move my hands in specific ways to cast the signs, and he plans to shut that down by restraining them completely. My one hand has been locked within some sort of gauntlet that slowly fits itself over my fingers, and curls them inwards, forcing me to make a fist. Thing weighs like 20 pounds as well. I can’t let him get the second one over my other hand, at that point, the fight is finished.

    I cast Yrden, and hope that it’s as much a game-changer as it was against Batgirl. Sadly, I’m immediately disappointed, since the increased resistance he’s feeling doesn’t make him any easier to move. I struggle some more while he presumably grabs the other one from whenever he was keeping it, and decide that drastic times require drastic measures.

    I summon my revolver from its holster directly to my free hand and point it generally behind me, where I think he is. I try to shoot all six rounds, but I only get through three before he knocks the gun from my hand and slams my face into the pavement again. I think that slam was punishment for using a gun on him. My head feels like… like it just got slammed into the concrete three times. Fuck off, I’m too concussed to think of a good analogy.

    I pull my focus together to use my last sign on him, Axii, hoping that the daze will buy me enough time to get out of the position. I turned my palm towards him, but I was too late. He snatches my hand and locks the restraint on it. Now with no magic signs to help me in this fight. He picks me off the ground and slams me into a nearby wall, where he demonstrates the other feature on the gauntlets he’s stuck my hands in. He pushes them towards each other and they lock together, placing my hands in roughly the same position they would be in if I were in cuffs.

    “You know, I was just about to head back home and pick up a book. Couldn’t have come by earlier?” I say. Or at least, I think I do. My head has kissed the pavement enough to give my concussions concussions. I could be saying anything right now.

    He doesn’t say anything back. Rude ass bitch. He’s probably the only person to beat someone in a fight and not say some witty one liner. I’m about to keep talking at him when a very high tech, black car pulls up behind him. I’m sure that normally the villain says something here, but I’m too busy staring at the Batmobile. The Batmobile. I’m in nerd heaven.

    I’m stuck in quiet awe as he drags me towards it, and the back of the car opens up, revealing two seats. I guess if someone else pops up while he’s delivering me to the GCPD, then I’ll have a friend for a bit. He roughly tosses me into one of the seats, and some bars lower down around me, ensuring I can’t try and wiggle my way out of the seat. Because he really needed more restraints. Not overkill at all.

    The seats get pulled back into the Batmobile, and all is dark for a few moments until a screen lights up. A screen displaying his face as he finally decides to engage me in conversation.

    “Lycaon. You are under arrest. You will be delivered to a special cell at GCPD headquarters, where they will read you your rights. Now, I have a question of my own for you. What happened to you? Your DNA is twisted in a way that’s far different from other Metahumans I’ve seen.” Natural Batman, only comes to talk when he needs something from you. In this case, answers. What, does he want to know if I was an experiment? Because that is technically true. Maybe he’s worried that if I am there will be others like me. I’m not talking to him though. My head is still ringing and I’m still upset at getting my ass handed to me like that. Not to mention I’d probably only give something away.

    Eventually he turns the screen off, realizing that I’m not going to talk. We drove all the way to the GCPD and I felt the car stop. Taking a deep breath, I wait for the back of the car to open up, and free me from this chair. It started feeling like a metal straight jacket halfway through the ride.

    It does eventually open, and I’m blinded by the lights pointed at me. Once I gain my bearings, I see 10 officers in full riot gear pointing their weapons at me, and one in normal clothing who I’m just going to assume to be Commissioner Gordon, since who else would be here when Batman is dropping off a villain?

    I get pulled out of the chair by Batman, and then handed off to one of the officers who begins directing towards their ‘special cell’. They start reading my rights to me as we go on the walk. The whole right to an attorney, right to remain silent, yada yada. I tune it out, and I try to strain my senses to listen to Batman and Gordon, but it’s too difficult to make out over the voices in my ear and the growing distance away from them.

    The cell is a little overkill, with ventilation and a blast door so thick you’d think it would stand up to the entire U.S. military budget. Glass that looks to be only slightly less resistant than the door. The officer shoves me inside the cell, and once the door locks. It hits me. I am fucked. Where would they send a normal criminal? To a normal jail. Where would they send some crazy dude in a wolf mask that writes messages in blood? Arkham Asylum. I sit on the provided uncomfortable metal bench in the cell, and despair.

    I contemplate methods to survive Arkham, but none of them are things I’d like to do, or may be incapable of doing, depending on if they ever take off the restraints Batman put on me. I think about the fact I never finished “The Huntress’ Prey” despite it getting pretty damn good in the chapter I was reading. I wonder if Jonah will keep up with the gym, or if my territory will go to shit now that I’m not there. Fuck! My safe zone lasted all of two nights! The peace was broken on those two nights too, what a joke.

    — — — — —

    Getting lost in my thoughts, I eventually turn to the clock in the precinct, and see that it’s been… an hour. Really? No one has even come to talk to me. Isn’t that supposed to be a thing they are supposed to do? Wait. They seem panicked. Maybe if I focus I can…

    “Get as many as we can! This is new, and we need to deal with it now!” I hear Gordon yell from across the precinct. He commands 4 squads to run to what I assume to be the armory, because they come out equipped with full riot gear. Wonder what the fuck happened that needs that kind of response? Is Bane out? Maybe if I’m lucky someone will come and tell me what’s plaguing Gotham tonight.

    I watch Gordon command people from my cell for a few more minutes, and I get bored enough that I try calling out to him.

    “Hey! What’s happening out there? Is it the rapture? Please tell me it’s not Gnomes, someone at home would be traumatized if it was!” I see a few heads turn, to look at the crazy bastard in the special cage. Gordon just steadfastly ignores me. Alright, getting nowhere with the Commissioner, fine. The grunts should know too.

    “Hey you,” the police officer closest to me turns and stares at me, warily. “Any chance you could give a poor soul closure, and tell me what has everyone up in arms?” He considers it for a second, before shrugging.

    “Solomon Grundy rose up again tonight. A bit early though, not to mention that the Bat is handling him. The thing that has everyone scared is that he isn’t alone this time. Rose with a horde of zombies. We don’t know if they’re contagious so ‘scorched earth’ has been authorized.” Scorched earth? A police protocol, I assume. Given the riot gear I’m just going to guess that means the police get to use their fancy toys (their rifles, and I swear a couple of the riot guys had grenades) with no repercussions.

    “The undead should not be underestimated. They are notoriously difficult to kill. After all, how do you kill that which does not live? You need a professional, me.” The perfect pitch, I am a witcher, and even though he doesn’t know that, surely if you were facing something new in this city you’d want someone with a costume on your side.

    “Hah, nice try bub,” Bub? People say that? “But you can stay right there. Besides, it’s just zombies, just shoot ‘em in the head and they go down. Just like the movies, right?” Damn. It would’ve been that easy if you just didn’t say that. Fucking fool. You’ve jinxed it, and now you actually need me. My gun should be able to handle it, since it has some magic/soul-killer bullshit on it. I just need out of the cell, and these cuffs. The weight is starting to get unbearable.

    He walked away before I could keep talking, and Gordon just kept barking orders. I kept trying to get his attention, but he never responded. I know he hates criminals, but this is going too far.

    Our game goes on for about 5 minutes before he announces something that causes the officers that stayed behind to panic. The zombies were making a line straight for us. As he says that, I feel my Brand pulse, and start to burn. Fuck, is the mark making them target me? These guys are fucked if that’s the case. Gordon continues destroying the morale of everyone there by telling them that gunshots don’t stop them, even when placed in the head. What kind of leader is this man?

    He was listing methods that have been tried, and those that haven’t, when one of the officers spoke up. It was the guy I spoke to briefly earlier.

    “Uh, sir? There is one method we haven’t considered.” Are you going to say what I think you are? Oh, you are my favourite person now. I’ll introduce you to Jonah if you live through the night.

    “And what would that be?” Gordon seems interested, good, good. Maybe if it comes from someone that’s not me he will actually consider it.

    “Lycaon, sir. He said himself that undead are hard to kill, and you need him, since he’s a ‘professional’.” He said it! Now I just need to learn your name so I can find you later. Wait, that makes me sound like a stalk—

    “Lycaon!? He’s an insane killer! He carved someone's heart out! I refuse to let him out of the cell!” Well, fuck.

    Gordon and the force bicker a bit, but I see that among the force itself, about half of the officers are on the side of using, and the rest aren’t. You know, I’m willing to bet the guys that want me on their side are the corrupt ones. They’re used to working with the crazy guys in capes, so they wouldn’t mind the tools I bring to the table. The other guys just don’t want me at the table and that’s kind of rude, don't you think?

    Gordon calls out that the horde is getting closer, and that they need to set up choke points, and all that stuff. The group of officers that wanted my aid try and argue the point a bit more but Gordon just yells at them until they move. Seems a bit like a mean boss, but then again, he’s actually facing a horde of zombies. I’m sure that most bosses would find themselves pretty stressed out and irritable in this situation.

    I go sit back down on the metal bench in my cell. The precinct gets barricades set up using turned over desks and chairs behind door knobs. Hey, maybe they’ll get lucky, and fight off the horde all on their own.

    — — — — —

    All is quiet in the GCPD, as the zombies finally arrive. They start banging on the doors, trying to get in. Just hammering away. They don’t groan either. All you can hear is their movement and their attempts to break down a door. Or a window, but as one of the officers told me when I pointed it out during setup, those are already reinforced. Bulletproof glass should be able to keep them out.

    The police force is visibly disturbed by going through something only thought to be fiction, or just flat out not their problem. Usually they hear about things like this in the news, long after some hero flew by and solved it. That fear culminates in a barrage of fire when one of the hordes members makes a crack in the door. When they stop shooting, all they can see is that they fucked up the structural integrity of the door. Riddling it with bullets will do that. I doubt they even killed any.

    Gordon barks out a quick reprimand before turning his focus back towards the entrance. The one now being broken into much faster than before. Piece by piece, the undead break it down, using the strength their body held back in life. Eventually, they make it in. The door gets broken off the hinges and a swarm rushes inside, walking into, and over each other, the rotten masses only wishing for slaughter. They aren’t extremely fast, but the only thing that has stopped them from reaching the police already is that they keep tripping on each other.

    I see that they aren’t prepared to fight off the undead, and I yell for Gordon, I scream his name, “Set me free Gordon! I can save you! Let me help! I can stop them for good!” He looks over, and he weighs his choices. Eventually, with desperation and reluctance on his face in equal measure, he pulls out a black remote from his pocket. It has a Bat symbol on the side, and when he pushes a button on the screen, my restraints fall off my hands. I immediately summoned my rifle.

    “You gotta let me out of the cage too! I can’t do much from in here!” I cast Quen, mentally preparing for the second most disgusting thing I’ll do. Even these guys won’t top an impromptu human dissection. I look over and see Gordon leading a few men over to the cell's controls, fighting off some zombies that made it past the barricades, the others move towards the back of the precinct while laying down suppressive fire. It doesn’t kill them, but it does trip them up for a few seconds.

    When Gordon reaches the console he slams a button, and I see the blast door for the cell slowly crank itself open. The moment the zombies have a proper method to reach me, I can feel their hostility shift from the police to me. I guess without one they decided to just kill whoever was closest.

    I can’t even get out of my cell before the entrance gets barricaded by a wall of flesh. I cast Igni, and thank god that it actually worked. I did not want to deal with flaming zombies. The walking dead burn briefly before lying down, maybe dead for good. They aren’t writhing, so I hope that means they can’t get back up.

    I recognize that the cell the GCPD has put me in is the best choke point anyone could ask for, since there’s only one entrance, and everything else has been reinforced for criminals like Bane, or Killer Croc. No way mere zombies can break down that glass. I start shooting into the entrance, not really aiming at anything specific, because that’s a bit hard with how they’re climbing over each other. I do watch as I nail one in the stomach and it stops moving. It gives me confirmation that my gun does kill the things that aren’t susceptible to normal human means of damage.

    I stand there, casting Igni whenever I can, and firing rounds into the rest, but there truly were too many to deal with on my own. Gordon was telling his men to back me up, but that was ultimately useless. He just added lead to their bodies, not harming them in the slightest. They keep making it further and further into my cell, and it’s only when corpses cover all but the last 5 feet of my cell that I see a glimpse of hope.

    A bike cuts through the remnants of the horde, (I took down like, 75% of it on my own. Using fire on large groups of enemies is like cheating.) and a figure that I recognize jumps off it, throwing Batarangs blindly into the horde. I question if that was just for style points when they go off, electrocuting the ones hit and the surrounding horde. When they fall from the shock they stay down, and she announces the thing I just recognized seeing that.

    “Use your tasers! Any sort of shock puts them down for good!” Batgirl calls out to her father and his officers. Figures that she’d be the one to show up here. Gotta save daddy.

    The men cheer when they see a Bat working with them, and with renewed vigor, start actually helping me against these things. I never stopped burning and shooting when she showed up. Now with aid though, it does feel like I’m making progress. As they cut down the numbers I finally get a chance to break free of my cell. They can totally handle the rest of these zombies right? Even if they follow me, I know I can handle it. Especially if I have room to walk backwards.

    I push forwards, leaving the cell, but still culling the masses. I figure there’d be more dead cops, but it seems they really wanted me dead. Astaroth, the fuck does the mark you gave me do? I thought it was just a way for me to talk to you…

    I count the dead still left walking at me. Only 10? Yeah, I’m good. I break into a sprint for the broken door, leaping over the obstacles and barricades on my way out. I turn back once I escape the GCPD, and see no zombies. I hope that means that Batgirl and everyone else there took care of them. I’d really hate to be jumped by some random undead in the future. It’d be the worst if they came at me during the day. How would I explain to the gym why some zombie is trying to kill me, specifically.

    I run to a corner, and turn back into Bruce Strong, civilian extraordinaire. Not a moment too soon either, because not long after a caped figure on a black bike blew past me. Well, time to go home and unwind. Also shower. I never mentioned the stench inside the precinct, but you can imagine what I now smell like just by being close by to all the deceased.

    E — N — D

    Nearly 5k words. I probably could’ve done the zombie fight better, but I don’t really plan anything, I just kinda write and hope it turns out ok. Came up with a method to make the Brand work in universe, and in turn, also came up with where I think the plot will go. Both you and I will find out if my monkey brain wants to stick to the plan though. One last thing before I go though, not enough synonyms for undead. Not nearly enough.

    See y’all in the next one.
     
  3. FTR2017

    FTR2017 Well worn.

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    Get fucked, Batman! :V

    Great use of The Brand to force the policemen to free Lycaon to avoid becoming undead food. :)
     
    Azura, meolidas007, BJJPanda and 2 others like this.
  4. Threadmarks: Chapter 9 - The end justifies the means...
    The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    Chapter 9 - The end justifies the means...

    — — — — —

    “Last night, horror struck Gotham once more as Solomon Grundy, our resident zombie, rose from the dead. This time however, he wasn’t alone. Testimony states that he came with at least 100 other undead to wander the streets of Gotham.” Oh yeah, Grundy was there too. Thankfully Batman decided to handle that. I’m not sure if my gun and my signs would be enough to handle him.

    “The horde decided to split up not long after rising, with 60 corpses moving straight towards the GCPD, who found themselves under siege. Thanks to quick thinking by the Commissioner, Gotham’s police force stays strong, with only a few unfortunate casualties.” Well, I guess it makes sense they wouldn’t want to credit a villain for helping the police officers survive the night. I didn’t think that the Commissioner would take the credit though, he doesn’t strike me as that type of guy. Maybe he was the only one that could take it?

    “The corpses were left strewn all over the building, and clean up is still taking place. If you have any business with the GCPD, Commissioner Gordon recommends you call their number or visit a different precinct if that is an option. He states that you would really want to avoid experiencing the mess. Onto other news, the election is—” Ew, politics. No thank you, time to switch to the fireplace channel.

    It’s nice to know that they also are dealing with a huge cleanup. Comparatively mine was much easier, but I still showered 4 times just to make sure that there was no more stench on me. Burning corpses does not smell good, and the smell sticks to your clothing too. I learned that the hard way when I got back and found out that dispelling my costume doesn’t get rid of all the grime for me. Ran that through the laundry a few times as well. Now my costume smells like lemons, just as god intended.

    I pick up my book, and get reading. I am not letting myself run into some conflict because I had the audacity to go walk outside. Even on my patrol later, I’m not doing it in costume. Learned my lesson from Batman’s ambush. I’ll just pose as a civilian and run away to change into costume if I find something that needs my attention.

    Though, sitting here, reading my smut, with a fireplace on my TV, I realize I’m missing something. Background music.

    I need background music to really get into the zone, y’know. I can read without it, but it's nice to have. Keeps my focus on the book, weirdly enough. Plus any noises from other apartments won’t disturb me if I can get a sound system. A cheap one though, I still haven’t sold my painting. I need to get around to that soon.

    I resolved myself to ignore everything on my way to the store. I’m just going to get some cheap stereo, and go home. Don’t acknowledge anything that isn’t someone breaking my safe zone's peace.

    I throw on my favourite nondescript grey sweater, and leave. Thankfully, nothing of interest happens on the walk. Besides me finally seeing the homeless guy Jonah was talking about, forgot his name. Funny guy, he’s moved on from Gnomes now though. Now he’s talking about Chupacabras.

    I get to the store and grab myself a smart hub. I know, I know. ‘They listen in on me’. I don’t talk to myself out loud and I share the apartment with no one. I’ll be fine. This is just for convenient access to music. Plus, it’s WayneTech like my laptop. I do wonder if Bruce was having a narcissistic streak when he made this since I have to say “Hey Wayne” as the command phrase.

    I was about to check out when I walked past a clearance section. It had Garden Gnomes.

    I did something I’m not proud of.

    I quickly walked home with my new purchases in hand, and set up my Wayne Hub. I haven't asked it to do anything yet. I have an important task to fulfill first. I take one of my three other purchases, all Gnomes, and go outside to the fire escape on the other side of the building. I climb it until I find Jonah’s apartment.

    The view from the fire escape isn’t bad, it looks into his living area. I think of the place the Gnome would have maximum impact when noticed. I decided to set it up as though it was peeking around the edge of the window to the escape. So if he’s attentive, next time he looks out the window, he’ll barely see a Gnome, looking back at him. As I’m climbing down the fire escape to go back to my apartment, I wonder if cultivating my only friend’s paranoia towards Gnomes is a normal and healthy thing to do.

    Nah. I’m still gonna do it though.

    I go back inside my apartment and place the other two Gnomes inside my closet with my costume. They are just as important, after all. Then I go back to relaxing with my book, the televised fireplace. Now with some music!

    — — — — —

    I’ve finished “The Huntress’ Prey” and started on “Law of the Winner” but sadly, the latter of two lacks the subtlety, finesse, and characterization of the previous writer. It’s still good, but not nearly as enjoyable as the former. I might have to make another visit to the library and have Barbara look up the authors' other books. Who wrote “The Huntress’ Prey” anyway?

    Diana Prince? I feel like I should recognize that.

    I was about to turn back to my book when I heard a “What the hell!?” echo through my apartment complex. Good, it seems Jonah found the Gnome. It’s also a testament to how shit these walls are if I could hear him from a floor below me across the hall.

    I crack a smile and check the time. 7:13? Yeah, you know what, today has been a damn fine day. I’ll treat myself to a nice dinner before I go on patrol. Where’s a good spot? There’s a nice Italian joint in my territory. Pasta, pizza, oh shit they got wings? They have 50 wings as an option as well? Damn, this is turning out to be a really good night too.

    I get there, get seated, and when my wings show up I’m shown what heaven tastes like. I think I made the other customers a little uncomfortable when I moaned as I bit into the first few. They were just that good though.

    As I’m sitting there, enjoying my wings, I feel a buzzing in my pocket. I clean off one of my hands to grab my burner phone, because sadly, this is more important than the best wings I’ve ever eaten. The Arkham Knight is calling me back, and that’s a damn good paycheque.

    “Lycaon. Where are you right now?” Getting straight to business, huh? I can appreciate that.

    “Currently at Lorenzo’s Eatery. You want anything?”

    “No. Come meet me at—” He gives me the address for what I’m going to assume is an abandoned warehouse. Gotham has too many of those.

    “Sure thing, boss man. Does this mean I get my advance payment?” Please say yes, I keep impulse buying my savings away.

    “I’ll have it ready for you on arrival. Be here in 30.” He hangs up, and I wave over a waitress so I can box up the rest of my wings. I refuse to let them go to waste.

    The warehouse he wants to meet me at is outside my territory, but not too far away. Perfect walking distance really. I get a block away from it before I duck into an alley and summon my costume. Sadly I can’t send my wings back to my house with my powers so now I’m a scary wolfman carrying takeout. Perfect for the first face-to-face meeting.

    I knock on one of the doors and one of the Arkham Knight’s henchmen (Militia? They are properly trained by him.) open the door. I see the man himself standing by a big ass table, with plans and blueprints laid all over it.

    “Good, you’re here.” Oh, the synthesization sounds the same in person as it does on the phone. Cool.

    “I am. Anywhere I can put this before we start talking the important shit?” I gesture with my takeout. It would feel awkward to talk about our grand plans with me just holding my leftovers.

    “Take it from him.” He says to the dude that opened the door. The door henchman does exactly that, and I whisper in his ear that if any are missing I will find him later to exact justice. No one, not even Superman, is allowed to steal my food.

    I approach the table, and stand on the opposite side of the Arkham Knight. He begins his, what is this called, a briefing?

    “Okay, now we can begin. So, I understand you’ve beaten either Robin or Batgirl before, correct?” He stares at me, prompting an answer.

    “Both.” I nod. Best not go into detail on how I won, given that it was because of hidden skills and some luck.

    “Perfect. I’ve been setting up a couple crime trails on their level, with clues to match. Batman will be kept busy by another distraction I’ve set up. Don’t worry about that though. Just wait where I tell you to and defeat whichever sidekick comes for you.” A trap? Ambush the Mini-Bats? Well, he was one of them so I’ll trust he’s covered the ways this could fail in his planning.

    “Sounds good. A lot of planning you’ve done for this, is that Wayne Tower’s blueprints? How and why did you get those?” I wave my hand at one of the many papers spread out on his massive table.

    “I need to guarantee a win there. You can beat them, especially without interference from Batman. This is the best way. Now, I will not tolerate failure. When you win again, you will capture them, and bring them here. Do you understand? Holy shit I need to learn to speak with emphasis like him. I quickly nod.

    “Yup. Mhm. Understand completely. When are we doing this and where’s my money?” It will be kind of hard to move them if I have to physically carry them from wherever the ambush point is to this warehouse. I’ll need a vehicle.

    “Good. Hey! Bring him the cash!” He yells to the back of the warehouse. A couple guys come running out with a duffel bag each. Presumably filled with my payment.

    “Each has 25 thousand inside it. Take it. I’ll text you your location the night of the ambush. Be ready, we’re doing it in two days.” He turns back to his table filled with plans and keeps studying it. I think that was my dismissal. I go to door goon and grab my wings, and head back to my apartment. Kinda weird to call me just to say a few words and let me go, but I guess he did need to give me my first payment somewhere.

    Overall, a perfect night. No crimes, something did come calling but it was just to pay me. Really. Now I can buy transport. Maybe a bike for stuff like my new job, where I have to move a vigilante from Point A to Point B? Just zip tie his arms and legs and throw him on the thing in front of me? Yeah, that should be fine. I can get a car as well for moving any stolen shit if I need it.

    I dismiss my costume once I think no one is looking. Now I’m just a dude with takeout and two duffel bags. Nothing to see here, potential Bat-Stalkers in my safe zone.

    When I get back to my apartment I see Jonah sitting on the steps by the entrance again, this time looking frazzled. I ask him what’s up.

    “What’s up? What’s up!? Gnomes are real Bruce! They are fucking real! One was staring into my apartment earlier from the fire escape. But I showed it who’s boss… Yeah I fucking did…” Hmm. If it isn’t the consequences of my actions. I broke my friend.

    “Damn. Sorry to hear that. Maybe Lycaon will take care of them.” He snaps his head toward me as I say my other name.

    “Lycaon warned me. Warned me they were a threat. I didn’t pay my dues, and now they come for me. Where will they be next? What will they do to me…?” Wow. I really should feel bad about this. But I still have two more in my apartment and I’m not going to let them sit there unused. Sorry Jonah.

    I step around him, and wish him a swift recovery on his arm before fleeing so he doesn’t keep ranting at me. Normally I’d be fine with it but I had 50 thousand dollars on me. I’m not staying outside with that any longer than I need to.

    I dump the money in my closet with my costume and my Gnomes. Man, I need more storage space.

    I then go crack open my laptop and get looking at bikes. They’re the most convenient in my eyes if I’m ever going to have to escape from someone, since I can veer between cars and through alleys. Maybe I can get a car after this job is done if I want to do anything that would require moving something bulky.

    Checking through the dealerships my eyes lock on to one of the listings. A 2016 Yamaha YZF-R1. A superbike. It’s $16,490 though. And that’s without taxes too. Plus, the listing they have is yellow…

    Eh, I can just get it a paint job. Sold! The dealership is fine with cash purchases right?

    — — — — —

    The next day I calculate the taxes and head straight to the dealership. Gotham has a 9% sales tax, which is alright compared to what I’m used to.

    I drop $18,000 in cash that day, buying the bike. My worry that they wouldn't accept cash seems to have been meaningless. This is Gotham idiot, half the city participates in criminal activity. If they didn’t allow cash purchases they’d sell to almost no one.

    I swing by an auto-shop to get a paint job, because as much as I love the color yellow, (not much, by the way,) I would much prefer having dark colors, what with all my work being done at night. They say it’ll be $400 since the bike is in pristine condition. Acceptable.

    After about three hours of pawing through more surprisingly correct gossip magazines, I rode away with a black and grey superbike. Should I name the bike Roach in honor of Geralt? Nah, that’s his thing. I’ll come up with something unique.

    I take a joyride around the city, now that I have the option to do so. There isn’t too much to look at for tourists honestly, but I swing by the alley where Bruce's parents were killed and spend the rest of the time up by the downtown, corporate area. It was the cleanest place in this city, which is still very dirty. I don’t know if it’s just my senses but I can see homeless people lounging wherever they can, some with a trail of needles following them.

    I didn’t even see this many homeless people back by crime alley. Which come to think of it, makes sense. If you are part of a vulnerable group you would go to where it’s safest, right? Up here no one’s going to kill you for looking at you wrong. At least, not publicly.

    My rapidly fading desire to be a hero and help people screams its need to do something about this problem. But I got no clue what someone like me should do about this situation. I’m fairly certain the super-billionaire Bruce Wayne has tried to help with every problem in Gotham at this point, and he has far more resources than I.

    I finish my joyride and keep contemplating my options on the way home. As I park my bike I come to a realization. Bruce can only throw money at the problem. In his civilian identity he only has one option to try and aid vulnerable people and communities. He could give them cash, but it would only get stolen from them, he could give them job opportunities, but the managers might not want to keep someone that’s living on the streets around. Lycaon doesn’t need to try and give them cash, he could give them a home, with some work on the side. Plus it would help solve the issue of keeping my territory defended when I end up taking more jobs in the future.

    Sometimes, my genius astounds me. Let’s see if I can’t get what I need by tonight.

    I get inside and start jotting down the essentials. There are two big things I need to deliver on to ensure loyalty in most of them. Food and shelter. So long as I can ensure that I can get myself a good number of henchmen, even though the title would barely even apply here. I’d only ask them to defend the safe zone, which would be their home. I wouldn’t force them to participate in any gang wars or other things of that nature.

    Yes, not henchmen, my guardians, my protectors, will follow me loyally because of the food I so graciously bestow upon them. How much can say, 20-40 mouths be to feed and home? As my research indicated, a lot. My eyes glazed over, staring at some of the numbers and the reasoning behind them.

    First big cost, the actual shelter, y’know, the place they would have to stay? Yeah I need to get one of those. I checked various Real Estate sites and listings and my best option is the home for sale in my safe zone that I was considering getting for myself. It’s cheap and if we do away with a good amount of furniture and tear down a couple walls, I can get like, at least 20 guys settled down in there.

    Next big cost is the food. I’m not going to mother them and make sure everyone shares the food that I go and buy for them. Fuck that shit, it’s way too expensive. They’ll get enough for one week and after that they’ll earn their money weekly.

    Yeah, I can just pay them, after a welcoming party of course, I have to make sure they appreciate me and all the work I’ve done for them. So, my homeless shelter isn’t going to be very legal, in that they can only stay there if they work for me, or normal, in that we don’t organize meals for them, but it’ll still be more than enough. Wait, is me conscripting the homeless a good thing or an evil thing? I am giving them a home... Eh, debate it to yourself later. I’ll just put my offer in on the house and spend the rest of my time preparing for my rematch with one of the Bat-kids.

    — — — — —

    Two days pass pretty quickly, especially when you spend most of it trying to plan around Bat-people and getting paperwork filled out for a house.

    The night of my first mission as a mercenary starts off with me stress eating the rest of my leftover wings. Just as I finish them, my burner phone buzzes with a message.

    ‘4560 Brine Street. I’ve left a couple things that might help you. One of them should be arriving around 11. Do not fail me.’ Well, it’s 8 right now. May as well go now in case they show up early. Also, he left me with some things? Cool, I love free shit. Especially if it helps protect oneself against Bats.

    I pull up to the location on my bike. It surprisingly isn’t an abandoned warehouse, but rather, a WalMart-like store that was closed down due to Black Mold. I would’ve been hesitant to enter but as a witcher I think I’m safe from something as mundane as Black Mold…

    Probably.

    The door was unlocked, and when I entered I saw a shopping cart left right in the entranceway. It contained two things, first was a signal jammer, and I only knew that because whoever left it here was smart enough to leave a note attached to it. They did the same to the other item, or I guess I should say items. It was a box of tripmines, with a detonator in the box as well in case I needed to blow them manually.

    Well, pretty obvious as to what I need to do now. Let’s set up the jammer then rig up some explosives. Also, does the PA still work?

    — — — — —

    “Hello Master Robin, you should be coming up to the location shortly. Seems the trail ends at the Superstore.” An old British voice speaks clearly over his earpiece. Robin approaches the building from the rooftops. He’s a little annoyed that he has to jump from one building to the next to reach his location, but Barbara took the bike and Bruce won’t let anyone use the car.

    “The one that’s been shut down because of mold?”

    “That’s the one. Will you be needing any assistance tonight? It seems you’re going to be facing off against a kidnapper, possibly a serial killer and this is your first night back out on the job.” The Boy Wonder frowns. He appreciates the worry he hears in Alfred’s voice, but it is annoying since he’s already heard it from Barbara and Bruce.

    “I’ll be fine Alfred. This might be my first night back out, but I’ve trained plenty, and won’t make the same mistake I did last time. Besides, I’m not even going to be fighting Lycaon here, it’s just some random guy.” He says all this as he rappels down the building, and he does a backflip off of it when he’s close to the bottom. Lycaon would say he’s doing this “just to show off.”

    “Of course Master Robin. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything.”

    “Sure thing Al. I’ll let you know when I’ve finished.” Robin walks into the parking lot, in range of the jammer. He doesn’t hear when Alfred alerts everyone that Batgirl ran into an ambush, and he also doesn’t hear Batman ask for his status. He just keeps approaching the building.

    At the entrance, he stops right before tripping some explosives wired to blow at the activation of the automatic doors. He very quickly realizes that something is wrong. This is no random serial killer, they don’t have resources.

    “Alfred. Alfred? Are you there? Check in! Alfred!” He whisper-yells for a response, first from the loyal butler, but he quickly cycles through Batman and Batgirl, also earning no response. He contemplates just leaving the area, but then he'll be letting whoever did these crimes go. He decides that he won’t flee, after all, Batman wouldn’t flee from this. He has the option to try a different entrance, but an inspection on the trapped entrance area shows that whoever set them up only did so on the side that you’re supposed to enter from. Robin ignores that and forces open the ‘Exit’ doors.

    As he gets inside the store, he hears the PA crackle to life. Over it he hears someone singing… A lullaby?

    He doesn’t know this one, but ‘Wolves asleep amidst the trees’ makes him worry that Lycaon is here. If only he had Bruce's suit! That thing has a voice recognition device attached to it, for crying out loud!

    Robin decides to move towards the head office of the store. He figures that whoever set this trap will be close by there and it’s faster than searching the whole store. He needs to solve this quickly and figure out why he’s not getting a response from the others. He sneaks up to the door of the office, and goes to pick it. Right as he’s about to finish, an explosion from behind the door sends him flying out towards the checkout aisles. His training as a member of the Bat-family pays off though, as he catches his bearings just before eating a foot to the face. He rolls away to safety and finds out that his opponent is, as he feared, Lycaon. Bruce forbade him from fighting Lycaon, out of what Robin reasons is Bruce’s fear that Robin will lose himself to the thirst for revenge.

    “Damn kid, the hell do they teach you? That was a fucking Bomb, capital B. You don’t just roll away and stand up like it’s nothing.” The man in the wolf mask backs away to the end of the aisle, questioning why he agreed to this before coming to terms with the fact that he is just that greedy for money. To Robin, Lycaon is just engaging in Banter.

    “What, you thought that was enough to take me down? You’ll have to try a lot harder than that.” Robin took out his collapsible bo-staff and brought it to full length, ready for a fight against someone that was able to beat Batgirl. He was expecting a long and arduous fight. Lycaon decided that the best way to fight was to break those expectations. He turned around and ran further into the store.

    “Wha—Hey!” Robin broke into a sprint after him, but he was still 13. Lycaon has much longer legs.

    Robin lost the Wolf-Masked Merc in the clothing section. He used his grappling hook to pull himself on top of one of the wall displays to get a better look. He spotted the man, but Lycaon spotted him first, and threw something at him. Reflexively, Robin dodges a… Nerf Football, and as he’s about to yell at Lycaon for not taking this seriously, the football explodes right behind him.

    He falls, ears ringing, into a rack of clothing that breaks beneath him, knocking the air out of his chest and bo-staff loose from his hand. He slowly pulls himself up out of it, and once he steadies himself and picks up his staff, he looks around for Lycaon again. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long. Un-thankfully, Lycaon is holding a basket up by his left elbow filled with Nerf Footballs. Now that Robin can examine them, he sees that they have had their center hollowed out and replaced with explosives. He also sees the detonator in Lycaons left hand. His right is playing with a Football.

    “Wanna come quietly? I’m just trying to get paid, you know. I also know for a fact that the guy I’m working for doesn’t want to kill you, so you’ll be safe.” Robin stares in awe at the Masked fools ability to assure him of his safety while playing with explosives.

    “Nothing, no response? Well, alrighty then. Let’s play catch.” Robin doesn’t wait, he dashes to the side and points his grapple at the basket of explosives, trying to pull it away from Lycaon. He even succeeds, dodging both the thrown explosive and yanking the others out of Lycaon’s grasp. It’s such a shame then, that everything exploded.

    For the third time tonight, Robin reorients himself from all the explosives. He questions why they all went off, especially when they were still far closer to the Lycaon than they were to him. That is, until he sees the shining steel of the Wolf Mask pull itself out of some debris, much more intact than he should be.

    Lycaon coughs as he stands. Robin goes to grapple close and secure him before he can cast more of those sigils that Barbara briefed him on, but as he pulls the trigger, he sees that his grappling hook has lost its head. It can’t latch onto anything anymore. He hears Lycaon chuckle at his failed attempt.

    “Oh no, did I break your favourite tool? What a shame. Time to lie down, little bird. Accept what’s coming.” This is way different from how he was acting as Super-Knight. Robin won’t lie to himself, he was a little scared of the fight now. Especially with no surefire way of escaping the purple sigils anymore. He can’t run though, Batman would not run.

    He steels his nerves, and charges the man across from him. He sees Lycaon use his yellow sigil, and tosses a Batarang to break it, unexpectedly though, Lycaon dodges it.

    ‘Damn,’ Robin thinks, ‘He is learning…’

    The Boy Wonder meets him with the staff. Batting his hands away any time they start moving out in front of him, his head and trying to sweep the legs. In exchange, Lycaon waits for a perfect moment, casts Quen, and immediately goes in close, abandoning defense entirely. This move shocks Robin as he finds his swing harmlessly bounce off the man’s head, and before he can adjust Lycaon lands a hard right hook on his cheek. From there, the fight spirals out of Robin’s control.

    Lycaon casts Yrden, trapping Robin inside. He was trained to fight with the resistance it places on him, but he was already on the backfoot before, now he finds himself unable to defend himself properly from Lycaon’s assault. As he finds himself getting pummeled from all angles, he feels the resistance let up. Yrden reached its time limit. Robin quickly dodges backwards, but for the last time tonight, Robin was caught off guard.

    Lycaon was already swinging his arms as though he was holding a bat, and mid-swing, he summoned his rifle in a burst of flames, with the butt of the gun acting as the club. Robin barely had time to even comprehend what he was getting hit by before falling unconscious from the blow to his head.

    — — — — —

    I look down at Tim’s unconscious body.

    “Damn, I’m actually not half bad at this villain thing, am I?”

    I pick up his body, ignore the pain in my torso at tanking a bunch of explosions, I lived thanks to Quen but it still fuckin hurt. Maybe I should have the Good Doctor give me a check up to see if I broke anything. After I get paid though, let’s get this kid to Jason’s hideout.

    E — N — D

    Fucking eh, I broke 5k words this time. Barely, but I did. This one took a while longer than the rest, sorry bout that. But this is my Boredom Project, and I’m not that bored currently. Got back into Guilty Gear (look out for OmegaTrash in floor 8 you motherfuckers, I can’t combo shit) and started a Nuzlocke in Pokemon. Plus some new Tv to watch.

    I decided to try a third person thing for the fight, mostly because I didn’t wanna spoil the Nerf Footballs of doom, lemme know if it worked out. I probably won’t do it often, since I find writing third person to be a little more taxing than first person, but hey, may as well try and improve even if I’m probably only ever going to write oc or self insert fanfics. Established characters are hard because I don’t wanna fuck em up. See y’all in the next one, whenever that may be.

    P.S. Titles are hard too man. I'm running out of slightly clever chapter names.
     
  5. FTR2017

    FTR2017 Well worn.

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    What a fiend to do that to his neighbor out of a desire to be a troll. XD

    Who else here is expecting this to bite Lycaon's ass with the reenactment of Old Man Henderson: Gotham Edition thanks to his neighbor going full-on batman?

    Everyone hail the newest superhero ... Goblinman! :V
     
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  6. Rmajere

    Rmajere Pleased to meet you, can you guess my name?

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    Good stuff, the man is getting better at his whole shtick, thanks for the chapter.
     
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  7. Noctus

    Noctus I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    Lmao this is great! Poor Jonah though...
     
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  8. Diossidi

    Diossidi Getting out there.

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    Have you tried putting this on Fanfiction.net or Spacebattles. I think a lot more people would read this if you did.
     
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  9. Shaddurak

    Shaddurak Making the rounds.

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    Watched this is pretty good the humour is getting better aswell though is he ever going to get his swords? He is a Witcher after all
     
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  10. The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    Yeah I thought about it, I might crosspost to FF.net, but I don't have a spacebattles account and I'm a bit lazy. Maybe once I get the tenth chapter out. Someday.

    The Swords. We'll see. I'm not opposed to them but his gun is doing the trick for now. Why use silver when your gun can kill magical creatures? Though if they do come it would be from a task, I can say that for free. Also, thanks for reading.
     
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  11. Shaddurak

    Shaddurak Making the rounds.

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    The Swords could be his shtick every DC villain needs one, Can still have the guns for range combat but alot of the bats family and a few other villains can close the distance fast the swords can give him a lethal or not so lethal weapon for close range no?
    Even if its just the silver sword. Also the potions would they come in? maybe not so much the more outlandish ones but cat for nght vision for example and a few others and last question would he be able to improve his signs strength? or use them in ways other then the basic slow hex,charm,shield and firewave?
     
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  12. The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    Lol almost everything said here I have a plan for. Specifically the potions and signs. Won't be breaking from the game for the sign upgrades, but he will need to upgrade his arsenal for what will come. I'm playing through the Witcher 3 again now with the next gen update and actually taking note of how important the silver sword was so yeah, I'll probably give him one soon, even if just as a trophy. No promises but consider it likely. Is this a spoiler? Eh, not really. I'm not getting into specifics so it should be fine. My monkey brain is too unpredictable for me to spoil my own story.
     
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  13. Shaddurak

    Shaddurak Making the rounds.

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    Not so much breaking from the game as Geralt has optional casting types for his signs firewave(firestream), Aard( Aard sweep), Axii(puppet), Quen for exploding shield(active shield which heals) And last but not least Yrden(magic trap that destroys projectiles) and they get stronger theres also the blood and wine mutations that effect his signs turning aard into a cold blast and i forget what the mutation do to the others been a while since i played Witcher 3 probably due for a replay

    The witcher in DC is interesting its powerful but not overly so healing factor is also useful potions/signs give alot of flexibility and id reckon a silver monster hunting sword would be generally effective against alot of the crap that DC throws around Even if its just a stabby stick in general, There is quite a few sword wielders in the universe after all.

    Looking forward to more.
     
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  14. Threadmarks: Chapter 10 - Ignorance is bliss...
    The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    Chapter 10 - Ignorance is bliss…

    — — — — —

    I loaded Robin onto the bike and was about to ride away from the scene of my newest crime, but luckily I remembered to grab the signal jammer from the store before I left. I wouldn’t want whatever tech Robin has on him to broadcast his location (and therefore mine) to Batman. He’d come to find out why his Boy Wonder hasn't checked in on their comms and find him unconscious and precariously balanced on my bike. Not a good look.

    Luckily, Jason/The Arkham Knight made these things portable, so I can just slot it into a backpack I’ve liberated from the superstore and get driving. Sadly the only backpacks they had on hand were… Well… Exploded.

    I salvaged a Hello Kitty one though. A little small, and clashes with the outfit, but if it works, it works.

    Driving with a passenger on a motorcycle that doesn’t want to balance himself was a little nerve wracking, but we got there in the end. I pulled into the warehouse’s parking lot and found that the Knight himself was already there beckoning me inside, so I followed his instructions and parked inside instead. Means I don’t have to carry Robin as far either, so that’s nice.

    I pulled in and saw a fucking full renovation of the place. It has not been long enough to lay down power lines that are hooked up to your fucking turrets on raised platforms. Are those things loaded with fucking harpoons?! He must’ve hired some goddamn miracle workers.

    “Hm, well done. Seems my faith in you wasn’t misplaced.” Jason says while going back to tinkering on one of his turrets. “See that chair bolted down in front of one of the turret platforms? Lock Robin into it. There’s restraints on the chair itself and rope underneath it. Tie it tight.”

    I park my bike to the side of everything, and take Robin to the chair. It’s one of those ‘restraint chairs’ they use for the mentally unstable so they don’t hurt themselves. I lock down his wrists and shins, and then the body strap to keep him from thrashing too harshly. Now, the rope.

    Should I tell Jason I don’t know how to tie a knot?

    I mean, I can intuit my way towards something simple, but is simple good enough? Not for a Bat. Robin could escape my dastardly knots in his sleep. It’d be embarrassing to ask the fucking Arkham Knight himself to come tie the rope for me. Nah, let’s just do it myself.

    Okay, so one end goes this way… The other like this… Throw in a loop-de-loop… Give it a couple quick yanks… Seems fine?

    Fuck it, let’s hope that holds! I examine the room now that Robin is “securely” locked down and no longer my problem. The knight has his fucking turrets set up in what I’m seeing as a pentagram pattern. The top of the pentagram is directly behind Robin on an extra-raised platform. I wanna say like, 10 feet compared to the other platforms only being 5. Presumably he set it up that way to shoot over Robin if Batman took the main entrance, which is opposite of that gun in particular.

    I pan up to the ceiling and notice that he has also set up spotlights, all pointed towards the Boy Wonder’s current position. Wants to draw focus to Tim’s abduction and remind Batman of the time Jason was the one left waiting. Wonder if he’s going to do the dramatic reveal of “You let me die!” now or save it for later? He probably won’t do it if I’m here. I should get my cash and leave, quickly. Lest the Caped Crusader find me here with his son/student locked in a chair.

    “You’ve done a lot of work since I was here last. Must’ve cost a lot of money, speaking of money…” Gimme gimme, I need my money and I need to go eat something. My ribs still hurt from the basket of explosives.

    “I sent for one of my men to get you your cash when I saw you pull in. Just kick back for a couple minutes, it’ll be here shortly.” He finishes with his turret, tossing the tool back into its box and pulling down the plating covering the insides of his harpoon launcher. I’m still confused about that. Well, if I’m being forced to wait, may as well ask.

    “Why harpoons? You’d assume bullets would work just as well, usually better.” He chuckles as I walk back to my bike for a (somewhat) comfortable seat.

    “Bullets don’t stop the Bat’s car. These things will tear it to shreds.” I can almost hear his smile at that thought. He’s really thirsty for revenge isn’t he. Let’s keep poking at him.

    “What do you have against the Bat anyway? I’ve never heard of you before so it’s weird to see you come out of left field with a hatred for him almost as intense as the Joker’s.” He spins around to look at me.

    “Don’t speak that clown’s fucking name! As for why I’m doing this, fuck off. It’s not your business.” Hm. Well done me. You’ve effectively shut down any chances for conversation with the only person in this place willing to talk to you. Jason leaves me on my bike and goes to stare at Tim. The occasional goons I keep seeing are not only busy but refuse to meet my eyes. Time to wait in silence until my cash gets here.

    Thankfully, it doesn't take too long. Only 5 minutes from when he told me to wait. I trade the Jammer in the Hello Kitty backpack for my cash and go hop on my bike.

    “Hey, mind opening the door for me? My job’s done here so I wanna go spend some of this before the next big thing comes along.” The Arkham Knight doesn’t even speak to me, just waves his hand and one of his men runs over to the door and flips the switch. Either he just refuses to talk to me now or he is way too busy inspecting Robin. I hope he’s looking at the kid and not my knots. I don’t know shit about how to tie them but goddamn I know I made like, 10 mistakes.

    The warehouse door slowly raises itself and I pull out, only to come face to face with the Batmobile charging towards the entrance.

    Where I am.

    With all the cash I got from abducting his kid.

    Oh fuck…

    I crank the throttle and try to pull out of the way. I narrowly succeed in not becoming roadkill, or whatever Batman would call it. “Doesn’t kill” my ass, he did NOT slow down. Sadly, he clipped the back tire and sent my bike spinning out from underneath me. Leaving me on the ground and my hard earned funds still by the bike which stopped spinning a few feet away from me. One of the two duffel bags containing my money has broken open, but I can probably still salvage some of it.

    I go to pull myself from the ground when a sharp pain in my leg stops me. I wince and have a look at it. No obvious breaks, so either a fracture of a very pulled muscle. Not good either way. No fighting in my condition. Not with a bad leg and what’s probably broken ribs.

    I pull myself up from the ground properly now, without putting too much pressure on my leg, and limp towards my bike. I spare a glance inside the warehouse as I struggle towards it, and see Batman’s infamous car impaled by all five harpoons. Each slowly pulling against the marvel of engineering, ripping off its armor. One of the harpoons even hit Batman’s totally safe mounted auto-cannon, and effectively disarmed the car.

    I can distantly hear Jason yelling at his men to keep them organized and on the lookout for the Bat himself. Something I’d question if I didn’t have inside knowledge that he can pilot the thing remotely.

    I get to my bike just as I hear glass break and frantic yelling drown out the Arkham Knight’s calm-but-loud orders. Guess Bruce Wayne himself finally decided to show. Means that it really is time to get out of here. I throw the broken duffel on like a backpack, since that way the tear will be up against my back and I should lose less that way. With that done, I pull the bike up off the ground and start driving away. I refuse to be involved in that shitshow any longer. No more money to earn means it’s no longer my problem.

    Pulling out of the alleyway I pass by Batgirl arriving by Bat-bike. I swear and curse my luck like there’s no tomorrow but it seems saving Tim is more important than capturing me. Thank the lord for priority objectives.

    With the Bats all busy with family drama, I get all the way home without issues. I hide my money in my closet with the rest and make myself some goddamn food. I know I should go to Leslie and her to make sure my healing factor sets things right, but my leg is killing me, so I’m just going to risk it.

    — — — — —

    I woke up the next day feeling pretty damn refreshed, and I did a whole lot of stretching to see if my healing went well. It did. I won’t need to use the Doctor’s services unless I’m really fucking injured. Nice to know.

    Today was the day I was supposed to finalize my buy on the house. You know, the one that I was going to use as a shelter? Now that the time has come though I don’t really feel like doing that. I heard Jason trying to corral his men against the infamous Bat last night, and those trained soldiers couldn’t keep it together. Why would my homeless? Yeah, I need a new plan for the protection of my safe zone, but maybe I should simplify it. Just have people report to me if they see a crime? Should work well enough. I still want the house though. Just not for them. I spent too long earning this money to waste it on something that might not work.

    Fifty thousand dollars and some strong-arming the realtor into taking it in cash, and I’m now the proud owner of a one story home with a basement. The basement is damn near covered in mold, but otherwise it’s actually quite nice. Besides, the mold doesn’t do anything to me. I’m a Witcher, mundane toxins and the like don’t harm me. I think. God I wish I had a bestiary or something. Did they keep a page on themselves? I just need to know more about what I’m capable of.

    I move most of my shit over to my new place, but I still keep the key for my apartment and will keep paying rent. Bruce Strong flaked out on his rent 3 times in a row, no way the landlady would believe I’m rich enough to get a new place with legal funds. If she reports me to the police I could end up on Batman’s radar, even if that outcome is unlikely.

    Speaking of the Bat, there actually wasn’t any news of last night's confrontation in the news today. I suppose Batman managed to keep it quiet somehow. Maybe Jason did his dramatic reveal and dear ol’ daddy doesn’t want his dead son branded a criminal? Who can say? I did see something noteworthy on one of my news sites, the Iceberg Lounge finally re-opened. I might be able to sell my fucking painting. It’s been left gathering dust in my storage unit for how long now? It’ll be nice to get some use out of it. I could sell the Glass Eye I stole as well but I kind of like it as a decoration so I’m keeping that one.

    I finish most of my unpacking and head over to the storage facility. Gotta check on the painting and probably take a couple pictures of it so I can prove I have it in my possession. When I get to my locker though, my mood sours. The lock is broken. I pull open the door and…

    It’s not there. Someone took my painting. Wait, they took Lycaon’s painting…

    Fuck! If someone checked who rented this one they would know who I am! The hell do I do!

    Okay, calm down. Focus. You are a witcher. Witcher’s hunt things, so use your senses and start hunting.

    Immersing myself in my senses, I pick up a smell. Perfume? Smells a bit like flowers. Alright, the scent is leading me this way, towards the office. It leads to the desk and the ledger of rented units is on the desk, pretty sure the worker’s aren’t supposed to leave that out which means they know my civilian identity. Fucking hell, this is a nightmare. I continue chasing the scent out of the office and towards the parking lot. It gets to one of the spots, and cuts off. It takes me a moment to piece my target’s next move together.

    They got in a fucking car. I don’t know what I was expecting. I have a hunch though. I mean, come on, a thief that wears women’s perfume? There’s only one I know of in Gotham. Let’s see if I can’t track down Selena Kyle. Maybe I can have her give me my painting back. Or just let her know not to tell other people about my identity, since I know hers. That’s as good a plan as any. I need to be quick though, before she decides to sell that info to her intermittent lover Bruce Wayne. That would spell the end of me.

    With extreme haste, I speed all the way back to my house and begin researching her. I found, as expected, nothing all that helpful. That is, until I went on the message boards.

    You see, even in this universe there are disgruntled and insane ex-girlfriends/boyfriends who feel the need to keep in touch with their beloved. Even if their beloved would love nothing more than for them to finally adhere to the restraining order. Some of these people documented how they kept in touch with them and knew where they were at all times. It was from them I learned how to find out the registered address of a cell phone.

    You need either software or an app, and thankfully this blogpost has a link to one that works, as well as the cell phone number of the person you’re trying to track down. It seems Selena doesn’t know about this method of tracking since her phone number is on her OneMind (a FaceBook equivalent. Put me through a loop when I saw it too).

    A bit of work, and a little money to those greedy mothfuckers on the site charging me 2 bucks for the info, and I know where she lives. A high-rise apartment in a skyscraper downtown. Expensive place. I don’t have the room number but that’s easy enough to find out once I’m there. Now how do I want to handle this visit? Show up in costume or not? A show of force might be helpful but when I look at my armor now…

    The cheap plastic armor pieces are covered in cracks and entire parts have fallen off. There are rips all over the clothing with the most obvious being a tear all the way down the leg from when Batman nearly ran me over. At least the helmet still looks good! But still, showing up in that would send the wrong message. Plus, it would be a little embarrassing to go to a skyscraper full of rich people in what amounts to rags. Seems like diplomacy is the way to go, and hey, it worked last time I had to do it.

    — — — — —

    Her building’s receptionist was not strong-willed enough to resist Axii and she parted with the information I was looking for quite easily. Even let me into the elevators, which you would normally need a keycard for. I’m looking for room 717, she’s staying there. Apparently has been living here a long time, at least according to the receptionists standards. As I walk down the hall I note that Halloween decorations are all over the walls. I completely forgot that Halloween is right around the corner. What day is it even?

    The fucking 29th. I haven’t even been here a full month. Hell, maybe I should take a vacation. Though, where would I go? Not Metropolis, Supes could probably tell I’m a bad man just by listening to my heartbeat from across the city. Not Flash, knowing my luck I’d throw my costume on as he runs by and get caught in a split-second. Yeah, I’ll table the vacation. Revisit it later.

    Hey, here’s her apartment! Okay, you practiced in the shower. You know what to say. Don’t fuck this up dumbass. Knock Knock.

    I hear her approach the door and take a moment before opening. Likely checking the peephole. She eventually cracks the door.

    “Hi, who are you? Why are you here” Ah, what a warm greeting. About ten times better than the one I got from Old Henderson.

    “Hi, yes. I believe you’ve taken something from me. It was large, rectangular, and I would like to get it back. May I come in so we can peacefully discuss the fine details of any possible deal.” I say as cordially as possible. Yeah, this was the best I could come up with. How the hell do you tell a cat burglar that you want your shit back and name kept secret without it sounding like a threat? This was as close as I could get.

    She closes the door and walks away. I decide to count to ten before blowing it open with Aard. Luckily I don’t have to as she approaches the door again when I get to seven. I hear her unlock the door and she swings it open to reveal her pointing a gun at me. Is this just how people greet each other in Gotham? She sees the look on my face and cracks a tiny smile.

    “What? Selena Kyle has a concealed carry license. You should’ve known that if you managed to track me down. Only one other person has managed to do that so far, and he came more prepared than you.” I know she meant that to be a dig at my character, but I know the person that tracked her down was the world’s greatest detective so being compared to him really doesn’t hurt my pride or anything.

    I take a moment to burn the visage of yet another comic book character into my eyes. The black haired cat-burglar stands in front of me. Shorter, at what I’m going to say is 5 feet and 6-8 inches, but I know better than to look down on someone shorter than me. I got my shit rocked by a middle schooler after all, after that you stop underestimating everyone. No fighting, we're here on diplomacy.

    She beckons me in with the gun, “Come on in Bruce Strong, let’s get to talking.” I raise my hands up and walk around her as she closes the door behind me. Inspecting it shows it has three locks attached but I only heard one being used? Doesn’t matter now since she flips all of them on with me inside. Using her gun she points me toward the couch in her living room. A living room that is very pink, almost stereotypically girly.

    “Go on, take a seat. You said you wanted to make a deal? What are you looking for in particular? Though before that, tell me how you found me.” Yeah, it makes sense that she would want to know about that before the deal. I just showed up one day at the place she considers truly safe. Probably is imagining whatever villain she decides to steal from next will show up here next and not be nearly as friendly. Sadly I can’t tell her about the phone thing since that would be exposing my insider knowledge. Or I guess outsider knowledge would be more appropriate.

    “I am an extremely good tracker. Your perfume was quite distinct.” Wow, that sounds so fucking creepy when you say it out loud, what the fuck is wrong with me.

    “You’re a Meta?” Oh thank god she’s glossing over it. “Interesting. You said you tracked me by scent? Damn, I like that perfume. They sell scentless ones, but they’re so expensive for just making you smell like, well, nothing.” She sits in an extremely fluffy chair to the left of the couch I’m sat on.

    “If it helps, I’m probably the only one that can track you like this. Though if you swap perfumes you’d need to swap your shampoo as well. I can pick that up quite clearly too.” She scowls at my words.

    “That does not help. Also it’s a very bold claim to say that you’re the only one that can track people this way. Ugh, whatever, let’s move on. You said you wanted a deal for the painting back. I can tell you now, not happening.” Fuck, I don’t know how much that was going to earn me but apparently all it’s ever going to earn me now is a bill to the storage facility.

    “It’s not the painting that I’m desperate for as much as insurance that my identity won’t find its way to the hands of the media one day. Though it would be nice to get some compensation. I mean, I was going to sell that before you took it.” In my mind I sold it for yet another 50k. Maybe she’ll give me 5%? I can't imagine a kleptomaniac parting with more than that. And I do have a pretty large lump sum right now. It would be nice if she tried being cordial. At this rate I'll try a fight even if I know I'd lose.

    Stop, stop. Diplomacy. Don't get mad, pride is meaningless before cash and survival.

    “Sorry, but once I get my claws in something I don’t let it go.” Please don’t tell me the cat and claw metaphors will be a recurring thing with her. “As for the matter of who you are, you don’t need to worry, I won’t tell anyone. I’ll just need you to do something for me first.” Ah, yes. Is this the witcher’s curse? Everytime you need someone to do something for you they make you do something else before you get what you came to them for? I’m sorry Geralt. I know how this feels now. Also what a bitch.

    “Hah,” I sigh, “Fine. Depending on what it is though, you will pay me. I don’t work for free and your promise to keep a secret will only get me to go so far.” I stare her in the eye, with a hard look on my face as I accept this to make her understand that I’m not negotiating this part of our talks. If her job is anything even remotely dangerous to Lycaon I’m getting a fucking paycheck.

    “Well, that seems like a fine deal to me. I want you to investigate something for me. I would have someone else do it but I have a feeling they’d hurt more than help with this situation.” She says while placing her gun on the living room table. Wait, she doesn’t want to use Bat’s skills for this?

    “What, is your usual man a shoot first, ask questions later type? Too delicate a job for him?”

    “Yeah, I guess you could say he is. That’s besides the point though. Your job is to do some searching for me in the forest west of town. I have a nice cabin I share with someone out there and I saw some unusual things when I went visiting a couple days ago.” At this point, despite myself, I started getting excited. I mean, this is a bona-fide “Witcher Contract”. Go investigate something strange in the woods for a reward. A classic. If only I wasn't being coerced into it.

    “Unusual? Got any extra details I could use?” Please don’t make me go off of ‘unusual’ alone. Last time I went into a forest and just looked at shit I think I was 7. Unusual if everything in the goddamn place.

    “Oh, you know. Mutilated hiker and camper corpses. Roots that were out of place in impossible formations.” Very fucking unusual. And bad for me. This is one of two things and I don’t like either. Let’s ask about the in-universe option after I finish hearing about the bodies.

    “Mutilated how? Come on, give me the details properly.” She shoots me an indignant look, like she hasn’t been extremely vague with her short descriptions.

    “Claw marks. Large, I’d have said a bear but we don’t have them in that forest. They had also been fed on for a few days by other wildlife in that forest. That good enough?”

    “Hm. Yeah, should be fine for now, I’ll see them soon enough. Now, you said roots in an impossible formation. That means I need to ask, is Poison Ivy out of Arkham? Because if she is then I can tell you now that it was her.” I’ve barely finished speaking before she jumps in.

    “Last I checked, she was still inside. I don’t think she has it in her to sneak out quietly. All of her breakouts usually end with giant man-eating plants. If she did though, well, you’ll be the one to find out, won’t you?” I can’t argue with that logic, though it doesn’t feel good to have to accept it. Using me like this is kind of grating. I don't want to start shit here, not with someone capable of holding their own against Batman. I'd summon my gun and she'd have either disarmed me or put three bullets in my chest. Not worth it.

    “Earlier, you said you share a cabin with someone, mind telling me what they look like? I can keep an eye out for them while I’m searching.” She purses her lips and thinks on it for a few moments. Why so hesitant here? It's a gesture of goodwill...

    “I think I’ll keep it to myself. She hasn’t been in the woods for a while now, and even if she did go in she would be safe. I appreciate the offer though. Any other details or are you going to get working soon?” She gives me a look, filled with annoyance and impatience. Either she really wants safe access to that cabin, or she’s really annoyed with me interrupting her day off. I'm betting it's access she's looking for. Why? Well, what would a cat burglar have a Cabin in the woods for if not stashed goods. Steal my painting, will you? Well, I'll help myself to whatever's inside. Should more than make up my losses.

    “Yeah, just the big important ones. Where are the bodies and where’s the cabin?” Her eyes widen and her mouth opens a bit. I see she’s come to the realization that she hasn’t actually told me where to look besides ‘a forest to the west’. Which isn’t very helpful.

    “Right, yes! I’ll give you directions to the trail, just give me a moment to write them down.” Selena quickly hops out her chair with… with a… Catlike grace.

    Fuck, I’m doing Cat metaphors for her now. I need to leave before all my descriptors become feline in nature. She comes back after a couple moments with the directions written on a post-it note.

    “Alright, with this, you can leave me alone right?” Yeah, guess that’s one way to tell a guest to leave. Selena begins unlocking her door and I take one quick look around the place for anything noteworthy. I see nothing suiting my tastes, though I don’t doubt everything in here is expensive. As a personal 'fuck you' I steal the remote to her television. Because fuck her.

    She swings the door open once done unlocking, and gestures for me to leave. As I step out her door, she slaps the note on my back, laughs, and tells me I have a week to find the problem or my identity is fair game. Then she slams the door and locks it again. We didn’t agree on a time limit! What the fuck is that bullshit!

    I debate blasting her door out of its frame in protest, but that’s not only petty, but also is practically giving her permission to tell people about me. So instead, I leave the building, huffing, grumbling, and swearing vengeance the whole way down. Once I leave though, the anger leaves me in favour of excitement and a bit of nerves. After all, this is my first real contract. Jason’s doesn’t count since I was practically just a thug.

    My first contract, and based on the info given, betting Leshen makes the most sense. But I’m not in the witcher universe, so maybe there’s something I’m missing? Then again, last I checked, Grundy doesn’t come back with other zombies. Something’s up, and I have a feeling it’s pretty damn important.

    Maybe if I ask…

    ‘Hey Astaroth, any chance you can clear things up for me? Are the universes melding together? I know you can read my mind so don’t act like you can’t hear me right now.’

    No response. Figures. I’m a toy to amuse him, why would he answer my questions? Bastard.

    I walk off, thinking about how the hell I could deal with a Leshen. If it is one. I hope my gun’s magical properties will allow it to deal with the creature swiftly, but I somehow doubt things will work out that easily for me. Plus, Leshens can turn in dark grey clouds, and I doubt I can shoot a cloud to death. Not to mention they can teleport when they’re a cloud. Yeah, I need a close range option. One better than using my gun as a club.

    Wonder if there are any blacksmiths in Gotham? Might be time I get myself one of those fancy swords, even if they’ll be next to useless against human opponents since I’m not trained in sword fighting. Besides, if we’re being honest, against a human opponent a gun will work far better than a sword about 97% of the time. We don’t talk about the other 3% since those are the superhumans I wouldn’t be able to touch even if I was sword trained.

    I should also get an armor upgrade. Anything that can actually protect from harm would be a thousand times better than the costume left in tatters in my closet right now. Maybe my blacksmith doubles as an armorer?

    So many things to do, and only a week to do them. Well, better get to work, I finally have a monster to hunt.

    E — N — D

    Another 5k! Woohoo! I’m not sure on the quality of this one, I’m tired from working retail in the holiday season plus I think I’m coming down with something, but I hope you all enjoy it! My early Christmas gift for all of you, I suppose.

    I tried to act like I wasn’t going to give him a sword because he’s getting one next chapter. Like, c’mon guys, how did you manage to ask for it literally as I’m about to give it to him. Uncanny timing. Also, his first real contract. You could count the job with the Arkham Knight, but for all the pay he got, it wasn’t the same as hunting down a beast in exchange for coin and a favour.

    Also, if you guys do want to see specific things implemented from the games, let me know. I do plan on making Lycaon a fairly competent witcher by the end of the series. Don’t worry about if he’s staying a villain though. After all, witchers work for coin and Mercs fall in the villain category in the DC universe. Since that’s who they usually get hired by. :p

    As always, see you guys in the next one, and feel free to roast my conversational writing. Everytime I read it, it feels less real and I don’t know if that’s just a writer thing or if I fucked it that bad. My excuse is the slight feeling of sickness. I should put these notes in a spoiler tag so people can scroll past them shouldn’t I? Well, if I figure out how to, this one will be in there. See y’all.
     
    Last edited: Dec 23, 2022
  15. FTR2017

    FTR2017 Well worn.

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    Thanks for the chapter, and man is Selina Kyle someone who grinds one's gears in Lycaon's position.

    She steals your shit, then has the cheek to hire you just to not 'spoil' your identity?

    More villainous and competent villains would have taken offense with Catwoman, proceeding to hunt her for daring do that.

    Still, there seems to be something afoot in the woods, let us hope that Lycaon can get some proper gear instead of plastic costumes.

    Also figuring out a way to cover a sword or blade with silver will be quite the quest.
     
  16. Kolarthecool

    Kolarthecool From dusk till dawn

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    Yeah, wtf is up with this guy? She steals his painting and goes out of her way to figure out his identity, and he's all 'maybe she'll give me 5%'. What?

    Then he proceeds to accept a shady, dangerous job on the off chance that the criminal villainess will keep her word and not sell his identity to the highest bidder? He even went ahead and told her how she can avoid being tracked by him in the future.

    The MC has been a bit of a dumbass all story but this is a new low.
     
    arsh, RawerX, XenomorphicFrog and 6 others like this.
  17. suikofan

    suikofan Not too sore, are you?

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    Did the dude just forget he can summon a rifle when he wants and shoot her through the window or something?
     
  18. FractiousDay

    FractiousDay Know what you're doing yet?

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    Hm yes agree with the main points. Why? I don’t get it. He literally carved out a guys heart, he’s hardly adverse to massive violence. He was willing to do that o maintain his rep, and now he’s ok being stolen from? I get that you want to make him a Witcher and give him contracts etc but I don’t think this is the way to do it
     
  19. Extras: Oopsie woopsie, I made a fuck up. + Spoilers.
    The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    I'll choose you as the one I reply to for this. You're all right in the way I could've chosen violence for this. Ultimately I wanted the contract and a way to get to the meat of the story, which this is a bridge into. I chose plot first over MC being rightouesly angry. Though one of the reasons I put for him not deciding to do so was that his costume was bent out of shape, and when he get's there and starts the talk he's hesitant to fight because he still has PTSD of his first time fighting Robin and Batman, who rocked his shit, and she can hold her own against Bats. Could've explained better.

    Though my feelings toward the conversation are likely because it was a shit plot point. Once again. Not wrong. Besides, he's not done dealing with her completely, you guys know? There's more to the contract and things going to happen? I'll spoiler tag this because it is a spoiler, so feel free to read it if you guys wanna how the main points of the this.... Shit do I call it an arc? How the arc will go.

    Lowkey I could've tried to write some hints in but I felt it'd be on the side of making Lycaon a little too omniscient in-universe. Catwoman wants him to get rid of it so she can safely regain access to one of her safehouses. Which she has a pretty good amount of shit hidden away in, under floorboards and in safes and what have you. Our character, being a witcher, will pick up on the hidden areas once he's done dealing with the Leshen and finds the cabin. He will remember how he was treated, and rob her fuckin blind. Still deciding her reaction, but generally this was how it was going to go. If you have any thoughts or improvements feel free to throw shit in here, spoiler tagged. I accept criticism and advice, and sorry for making you all unhappy with how it was handled this chapter.

    I think this chapter exemplifies how I write, which is really just banging my head against the wall, and that I probably shouldn't do it while I have christmas fatigue and definetly sick. Regardless, I hope the next one will be better for you guys. As always, thanks for reading, and maybe I won't need to end my next post with a sorry.
     
  20. FractiousDay

    FractiousDay Know what you're doing yet?

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    fair enough but just consider feedback, editing it if you want to change it, and the broader effects on characterisation
     
  21. FTR2017

    FTR2017 Well worn.

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    Thank you kindly for the quite excellent explanation and justification of the current path of choices done by the SI. And no, you shouldn't need to apologize for what would have been showcased in the next chapter. This, perhaps, is the bad side of episodic postings rather than a continous story, we are left only with what is available rather than say 'whatthefuck' then continue reading ... and stating 'well, that works out in context'.

    Then again, I did mention this:

    Lycaon currently isn't that villainous, or competent. That comes with training, practice, and getting his shit kicked in by The Forces That Be(TM) like a Dark Souls protagonist before he Gits Gud(R).

    I apologize for not adding the caveat to the explanation that would actually justify Lycaon's current decision towards doing Witcher work at Selina's request.

    I do wish you a safe recovery from your illness, 'cause it sucks to be ill with this shitty cold snap weather going on right now.
     
  22. BJJPanda

    BJJPanda I trust you know where the happy button is?

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    It isn't even about competence but about some pride and self-respeect. He just got bent over and fucked because he is too much of a pussy to stand up for himself. Also, idk why he is so scared of getting his identity revealed since that is mutually assured destruction. Selina was dumb as hell for threatening him with that when she has much more to lose. Overall, the personalities of the characters in this chapter were very shallow and they acted like idiots
     
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  23. The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    yeah, as I said, yall weren't wrong that I fucked up the conversation. I did some small edits but I dunno if that actually helps or not. I'm not going to rewrite it, since I've stated before this is a boredom project. Though I will say, M.A.D. is debatable at best. Selena and Bruce have an on again off again relationship so Lycaon giving out her identity wouldn't actually hurt her in the long run, since she's likely stashed away more money than we'd ever make and she could just go to Bruce for protection against the gangs she stole from. Also, why would he stand up for himself there. I added an explanation that he fears her as a fighter, since she's been shown to be capable of fighting Batman in various comic issues. It should've been there from the beginning. Also she has a gun too guys. Quen does jackshit against a bunch of bullets. Let her have the high ground since pride is meaningless and you can get revenge later when an opportunity presents itself.

    (As an aside, why is a cat burglar so skilled at fighting? Bruce was trained by a shadowy league filled with assassins but Selena fucking Kyle can fight him? Crazy.) also help my everything is in italics.

    A poor chapter, but as I said. I hope the next one will be better. I'm not writing while I'm sick though, want no repeat of this. Also getting a little burnt-out I think. Either that or I'm getting too addicted to Guilty Gear again.
     
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  24. FTR2017

    FTR2017 Well worn.

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    This. So much this. I look forward to how you showcase it in the future. :)

    Guilty Gear has that kind of addictiveness due to the music, wacky cast, and amusing play.

    That said, I wish you the best in your recovery. Drink chicken soup, relax, and cuddle in your covers! :)
     
  25. gearhead2177

    gearhead2177 Know what you're doing yet?

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    honestly, while I agree with some of you I really don't think it's that bad. I thought of three immediate reasons why Lycaon wouldn't want to fight Selina, those being she is female and Lycaon despite having fought batgirl really doesn't have experience dolling out serious violence towards a woman at least not on the level of that gang, two; Selina knows his identity and like I previously said he doesn't have experience with serious violence towards women and she's connected to batman so unless he kills her he can't silence her unless he uses diplomacy, three; Selina seems an easy target but she is really strong compared to his level at least like stated above and what I thought was pretty obvious, he didn't think he could beat her.
     
  26. Identity?

    Identity? Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

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    Do people know she's a villain? if not he could also just sell her identity. I'm sure she's pissed way more people off and doesn't have a sentence of a gory death like our MC promises.
     
  27. masterchef116

    masterchef116 Getting some practice in, huh?

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    gearhead are you mentally impaired he just cut somebody's heart out he wouldn't be fased
     
  28. Threadmarks: Chapter 11 - The birds are singing...
    The_Great_NPC

    The_Great_NPC Getting out there.

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    Chapter 11 - The birds are singing…

    — — — — —

    The day is shining, the air feels more breathable, and the streets don’t smell of piss. What happened to Gotham?

    Nothing, it’s still a shithole. Today I find myself in the outskirts of Metropolis attending a renaissance fair. My online searches for blacksmiths and armorers didn’t turn out too well for anything inside Gotham, and I guess people working steel for hours on end don’t find time to build themselves a website for marketing purposes.

    It doesn’t take me too long to find a blacksmith’s hut, and the man outside is working on a sword with an open air forge right beside the main walkway. A decent sized crowd has gathered to watch the man work, so I guess I’ll try to find an armorer until later when the people start to clear out. I can ask him how much a custom made sword would cost then.

    As I walk around the fair, I spy the jousting arena. I know I’m here on business, but I can’t resist stopping for a good 30 minutes to watch the contestants battle for supremacy. I watched Game of Thrones and its prequel, House of the Dragon. They do a pretty good job of conveying how exciting it is to attend one of these events. Still doesn’t compare to actually being there, but then again, what does?

    Once they crown a champion of jousting, the fair “Sir Branstein”, they move onto the next event. I was about to leave and continue my search but when I hear it’s sword fighting I turn my ass around and get back in the seat.

    I might not have my sword yet, but I’ll need to see how people fight with it so I can start teaching myself. Or hell, maybe once I’m done with what I believe to be a Leshen, I can find one of these guys and ask for training. I do need something to do now that I’ve stopped going to the boxing gym everyday.

    My favourite style of fighting comes from the ‘heel’ of the event, the dishonorable ‘Sir Renard’. He fights very aggressively, always on the attack and batting blows away with his steel gauntlets instead of parrying with the blade. He tends to leave himself open, but compensates for that by keeping them on defense, refusing to let them take advantage of the opens lest his opponents take a blow as well. He also fights dirty. Throwing dirt in the others eyes, punching and kicking when not expected. If I didn’t know this was absolutely a scripted event I’d be booing with the crowd too, but I just admire how he’s fighting and am trying to work out how to incorporate it into my own original style of combat.

    As he battles his way through the tournament bracket, I find myself trying to copy his arm motions from up in the back of the stands. I’m no fast learner, but I know that instead of blocking blades with a gauntlet on my arm I can cast Quen instead, so I start doing the motion of the sign whenever he performs a block in that way. In my mind, I feel the idea of my sword style solidify itself. I’ll still be shit at it, but at least I know what I want to do.

    Eventually, since it’s a scripted event, he loses the final round to a blond knight with a large smile on his face, who refuses to do anything but fight honorably. A bit disappointing, but I always did tend to root for villains in anything I read or watched since you knew they were going to lose at the end of the day. Sometimes you just want to see them succeed and shake things up a little, you know?

    Once I leave the arena with everyone else I see that all the Knights are giving out autographs around the exit. My favourite doesn’t have nearly as many going to him to get their souvenirs signed, so I pick up a wooden sword from a nearby stand for 10 bucks and approach him.

    “Hey, Renard, right? You were pretty good out there. I liked how you fought, and I was thinking of trying out sword fighting myself. Do you have any tips for me? Oh, could you sign this as well, please?” He smiles as he hears my words, and he pulls a sharpie out of seemingly nowhere as I give him my wooden sword.

    “Of course! Always glad to meet a fan! You say you want to try out sword fighting yourself? Well, my main tip would first be to always keep the blade pointed away from you. Sounds simple and obvious, but you wouldn’t believe how many people cut themselves open their first time trying to use a sword. One of my oldest friends actually sliced his leg open when he tried to replicate something he saw in one of my performances. For an actual tip, should you try to parry a blow, don’t meet it head on and try to stop it. You always want to deflect the blade away from your body. Not only is it easier, it’s better on your blade and safer.” He gave me a pretty helpful tip and a warning not to be a gigantic moron, which I appreciate.

    He hands back my wooden blade and I see written down the side “To a prospective swordsman; I wish you the best! - Sir Renard.” Cool, I’m gonna put this on my wall. Why not, it’s pretty barren at the moment.

    I thank him for the tip and get back to what I came here for. A few twists and turns from the arena I find a vendor selling armor. I browse what they have, which is mostly full plate. In the corner there is some leather armor though, something that upon inspection, nearly fits me. Not too expensive either, only around $400 for the set, which consists of a chestpiece, shoulder guards, bracers for my forearms, and greaves that should be able to allow me to stay fully mobile. There was the waist/thigh armor thing too, which I learned is called a tasset.

    I ask the clerk how much it would cost to have the armor resized to fit me, and if I could possibly get it dyed, and she calls out someone who I’m going to guess is either the manager of this shop or the person that made it. After talking with them and doing some measurements he tells me that the armor actually does fit, it’s just tight naturally. Leather usually should be and is tight naturally. He decides to let me try it on, and to my surprise he’s right. It is tight, but not in a bad way. I do some stretches and see that I am afforded almost a complete range of motion. I ask him about the dye job and he tells me that they can do that for $150 and that I could pick it up at the end of the day.

    I tell him I’d like it black and he nods before we go our separate ways. I head back to the blacksmith and see his area is far less crowded so I head over. He’s taking a break from smithing at the moment and sitting on a wooden chair drinking from a flask. He locks eyes with me as I approach.

    “Hey, I saw you smithing earlier, looked pretty damn good. I was wondering if you took requests?” He grins ear to ear.

    “Finally! I’ve been smithing all day and no one bought anything. They just kept pointing and watching. Yes, I can do a commission. What would you like?” Wow, he’s had it rough. I showed up here a few hours after the fair started, so he’s been going at it for what, 6 hours now? I couldn’t imagine doing something as strenuous as smithing for that long without earning anything.

    “You have any silver back there by chance? I’m in the market for a silver sword. I’m also willing to pay extra for a rush job.” He tilts his head down and thinks for a bit.

    “I have enough to make a silver plating that would surround a steel core. Would that work for you, or are you looking for a blade made entirely of silver?” That’s a damn good question man. I don’t think that the core of the blade matters, since it's completely surrounded by silver. But what if there was some magical reason it needed to be completely silver? No, no. You’re overthinking it, Lycaon. Just take what he has on hand.

    “The core will be fine, mind giving me a timeframe on how long it will take for my sword to be ready?” Please be like, 2 two days.

    “Well, I could have it ready tomorrow at the end of the day if you wanted to pay for a super rush job. Since it’ll take me about 10 hours of straight work with my power tools.” Oh thank god.

    “What about your shop here?” No you idiot! Stop being polite and worrying about their stuff! You’re not Canadian anymore!

    “Don’t worry about it, I share a workshop with a couple others, I should be able to get Sandra or Dave to cover for me tomorrow.” He taps his finger on his chin while doing mental calculus. “So, for a normal rush job, which I’d finish in 2-3 days, I’d charge 50% extra. For the super I’m charging double. Your sword will come out to, and brace yourself, this will be expensive, $2500 dollars normally. Which option do you want?”

    My eyes widened dramatically at the cost of the sword. I always knew these things were expensive. I mean, in the games the expensive, well-made swords cost thousands of gold pieces, not to mention forging the witcher swords in particular. I decide to bite the bullet.

    “Give me the super rush job. Quick, before I change my mind.” I say in a lifeless tone. Just agreeing to give up five thousand on something that could’ve cost half that hurts me in a way nothing else can. But I need the sword so I can start investigating the forest.

    “Sure thing. Hey, mind giving me your number? I’ll call you once I finish so you can come pick it up.”

    “Yeah, here.” I hand him my phone and he types in his number before sending himself a text message that reads ‘Silver Sword: Super Rush’. He hands it back and runs off to get started. I think.

    Wait, I never asked the dude his name. Ah well. I can get it once he’s done with the sword.

    I swing back to the armor shop and pick up my freshly dyed leather armor. Looking very stylish in all black. Besides that it’s quite plain but I prefer it that way. The main draw of Lycaon’s costume isn’t his armor but his wolf helm. That’s his symbol, so everything else can be background in comparison.

    Taking the armor, I check in to a hotel and wait there for my sword to be ready. I kill the time watching tv and ordering food until I get the message that my blade is ready to be picked up, alongside a cheeky reminder to bring the money. Luckily I was smart and brought way more than I thought was necessary, so it wasn’t much of an issue.

    Arriving at the lobby of their building, called “The Four-ge” I get greeted by the smith I talked to at the festival waiting at the desk with my blade in hand. As I hand over fifty one hundred dollar bills, I get his name. Walter. I unsheath and pick up the blade as he counts my money to make sure I didn’t stiff. Giving it a few practice swings I’m kind of amazed at how well made this is for being done in one day. It feels natural in my hand, and I’ve never wielded a sword before. Not to mention how it shines…

    I think Walter noticed how I was looking at the blade, and proudly commented on it. Saying that “Even though silver is kind of a shit material for a blade, far too weak, it came out pretty good.”

    He also told me “If you actually use the thing, note that it is very fragile. Silver is almost half as strong as steel, so it’ll chip and crack far easier. Bring it back if you need repairs.” He then thanked me for the patronage and wandered off into the back of the workshop. I sheathed my sword and left the building. Time to head back to Gotham and get started on my hunt.

    — — — — —

    Going to the scene of the killings was a little annoying. The instructions were fine, it’s just that no one told me just how unkempt the trails in the forest are. Foliage grows over and across the path, and I have to bat away branches just so that I can walk. I’m tempted to burn this whole place down if that wouldn’t make me Poison Ivy’s archnemesis and earn me the undying ire of ‘The Green’. That’s some cosmic force DC has that animates all plant life. I already have one cosmic force making me do tricks for him, I don’t need another trying to kill me.

    Eventually, after an inordinate amount of cursing and swatting away flies, I arrive at the Cabin. It’s actually quite nice, something you might expect to see a rich outdoorsy aunt own that you visit over the summer. The only thing that shows its current disuse is the buildup of dust on the windows and the overgrown plants on and around the building.

    Before I enter and try to find out why Selena wanted access to this place so badly, I do a quick scan for any signs of the Leshen. Despite straining my vision as much as I can, I see nothing out of the ordinary. No tracks left by it, no claw marks on the side of the Cabin, no totems, which I just remembered are something Leshens can have. It would be weird for it to hover around a human structure anyway. Yeah, I should be safe to examine the inside of this place.

    If anyone asks, I’ll swear I tried looking for a key, or I checked if the door was unlocked before I used Aard to turn the door into shrapnel. With a full grin, I wait for the cloud of dust I created to fall back to the floor before starting a thorough examination for anything useful to me.

    Senses cranked to the max once more, it doesn’t take long for hidden spaces underneath floorboards and drawers with false bottoms to reveal themselves. Pulling the building apart, I can see why Selena was desperate. There has to be, shit, at least 50k in just jewels here. Another 50k in physical cash was stashed behind a painting inside a safe. That should have taken some effort to crack open, but with enhanced hearing it was a cakewalk. I could hear the clicks of the lock given as clearly as someone snapping their fingers.

    I’m tempted to just run with this now and come back for the Leshen after all of this is safely placed within my home. But knowing just how lucky I am, (ie. Not very.) I decide to err on the side of caution, and remove the threat to my health before paying myself very generously. I know that stealing from a kleptomaniac is as bad as stealing an addict’s drugs, but if she treated me better before sending me to make her safehouse safe again, maybe I’d have played nicer and left her things alone. As it stands, the bitch deserves this. If she disagrees and tries to get it back? Well, I may think pride is meaningless, but at a certain point you’ll need to make an example of the person trying to take advantage of you. I have a reputation as a Merc to uphold. Which I really should get the word out that I’m a Merc. Maybe Jonah will help me?

    I lay my things underneath one of the beds here, one covered in red hair. I’ll admit that I was curious as to who would be a close enough friend to Catwoman that she’d share the location of a safehouse with them, but there were no photos left in this place and no clues beside the hair left on the pillow. Regardless, I’ll take note. Might be useful, might not.

    Now, back to the hunt. There were bodies, supposedly she found them on the path up but they weren’t there on my trek through the forest. Checking the post-it I see that they should be about 2 or 3 minutes back, at least according to whatever walking speed Selena uses when on the trail.

    I follow the path again, scratching my hand, and finally notice why I missed them the first time through. They were dragged off the path by… Wolves. Yeah I think that’s what these claw and teeth marks match. They left the campers alone after eating their fill, but ruined a lot of the information I could gleam from the bodies.

    Scratching my hand more, I rise up and… Why the fuck is my hand so itchy!? I keep scratching my hand. It doesn’t help. It’s just my left hand too, which is weird as fuck, the only thing that’s different between my right hand and my left is that the Brand is on…

    I rip off the glove on my left, and see the Brand bleeding. My heart begins to beat quickly as I place my body on high alert, expecting more zombies or some other group of creatures that want to eat my heart just as bad. Wait, maybe the Leshen?

    I spend a few minutes swiveling my head around, but nothing shows, so I go back to inspecting my hand. The bleeding mark isn’t nearly as bad as it was that night in the precinct, so I guess that means whatever is causing this isn’t close. Ugh, this likely means something useful, but since I don’t know what it means, all it’s doing is distracting me.

    Glaring at the Brand, I go to lower my hand and continue the search when I finally notice something a little off putting. My blood isn’t flowing correctly from the Brand. It bleeds, but instead of the blood dripping down, off my hand, it’s flowing… Left?

    Curious, I raise my hand so it’s vertical in front of me, and it’s still clearly flowing left. It only begins to obey gravity once it reaches the edge of my hand. It’s pointing me towards something. Towards whatever’s causing the bleeding. Useful, though the itching will get really annoying.

    I send my gloves back to my closet, I won’t be needing them for the rest of this hunt. Following the compass made of my blood through the forest, I eventually find myself on the outskirts of what I’m deciding to call the Leshen’s Grove. A surprisingly large clearing in the forest with a grand tree in the middle. Totems surround the tree at its base, and I see plenty of crows resting in the tree and on the totems themselves. Fuck, they could control crows couldn’t they? Was it just crows, or was it all animals in the forest? Man, what I wouldn’t give for a witchers bestiary.

    Eventually, I see a shambling beast enter the grove. Tall as shit, with wood for a body. It’s deer skull gazing blankly as crows fly onto its antlers. I spy at the claws, likely the #1 threat to my safety, they also appear to be made of wood, yet the blood dripping from them attests to their sharpness.

    Fucking hell, I’m really about to do this, aren’t I? This is what I made the preparations for. Okay, let’s go kill this thing. I hide behind a tree to hide the flames of my rifle being summoned. I peek back out at I don’t see it looking at my position, nor do I see birds coming to swarm me.

    Okay, steady breathing. Gun up, aim for the skull first, it’s like the thing’s head, right? If I’m lucky, this’ll end it before it has a chance to fight back. Focus now, Lycaon. Keep your aim steady, breathe in, hold it…

    A crack resounds through the forest as my bullet impacts the Leshen in the skull. The monster stumbles, but as it regains its balance, it screams. Unsettling, sure, but ultimately—

    The crows join in his screaming, and I reflexively find myself covering my ears as the cacophony of shrill screeches drown out all the natural sounds of the woods. I shake off the distress, and level my gun at the Leshen once more. I let loose 2 more shots at it, but to my displeasure, the impacts only gave the beast “flesh” wounds, they didn't maim, and they certainly didn't bring me any closer to killing the damn thing. Why isn’t the gun working? It killed the undead fine enough!

    I have no time to contemplate the intricacies of my weaponry as the Leshen points at me before turning to a dark fog-like cloud. After a moment, the creatures within the grove answer to its command. The crows take flight directly at me. As my eyes widen, I unsummon my rifle and bring the sword to its place, while the other hand lashes out in front of me with a protective Igni, to keep the birds at bay.

    My faith in the bird's common sense seems to have been misplaced, since instead of flying back or around the wave of fire, they elect to take the shortest path to me. Straight through it. I now find myself being bombarded by flaming avians instead of getting a moment to breathe and reassess the situation.

    The birds are relentless, they swarm me, trying to peck and claw my eyes out, or just any piece of exposed skin really. Like my hands. The scratches and small wounds are adding up, and if that wasn’t bad enough I can hear the Leshen walking closer now, seems it’s left cloud form.

    I know that if it reaches me while the birds are still keeping me suppressed, it’s over, but I don’t know how to bring them all down…

    As a beak finds itself driven into my Brand, I snap. I yell louder than a man should be able to, a warcry for the ages as I drive my hand towards the ground. I direct as much power towards it as I can, and cast my sign.

    Aard releases itself as a wave around me, knocking the birds away from me onto the ground, and most importantly, letting me think. I back away from the Leshen as I assess the crows, and see that they appear to be concussed. They are tiny creatures, it makes sense that a concussive blast of Aard is enough to take ‘em down. With that, I turn my entire focus onto the Woodland Beast.

    It continues shambling towards me, and I grip my blade tight, grit my teeth, and meet it in the middle. Casting Quen as I swing my blade, the glow overtakes me and provides a true feeling of safety. My blade crashes into its chest, leaving a deep mark. It tries to bat me away, but my boxing training has left me with one of my more prized skills, great footwork. I step back and lean just out of its range before leaping back in with an overhead slash.

    Another mark is left on it, and even though it can’t emote, I swear I can see its face twist in anger. It screams again, and buries its claws in the earth. Roots covered in thorns burst out of the earth, attempting to bury their sharp tips in my stomach. I dodge by leaping out of the way, but not fast enough, as one clips my leg breaking Quen and another hits my side, leaving a deep cut just below my ribs.

    Groaning with pain as I rose back to my feet, I saw that my enemy wasn’t just watching his attack to see if it would hit. He was summoning more aid, this time in the form of grey coated wolves, with dried blood covering their snouts. Guess these were the mutts that ate the campers.

    5 of them means that unlike the birds, I do have a way of dealing with them quickly. A small burst of flame and I’m left with my revolver in my left hand. As I put three shots into their targets, taking down the wildlife that let out soul-crushing yelps, the Leshen began using more roots to try and put me down for good. He saw what worked and is trying to abuse it, kudos to him, he’s learning. I need to finish this before he learns too much about how I fight.

    Dodging more roots properly, I put the last two wolves down and re-cast Quen. It might not hurt him, but I summon my rifle back to my hands, temporarily replacing my sword in the hopes that the bullets will annoy him enough to make him want to come closer and disarm me.

    To ensure peak irritation I place my rounds into the deer skull again, and this time I can see that my rifle is only strong enough to crack the skull. My plan worked though, the Leshen broke connection with the roots and decided to go cloud form to get within melee range. I bring my sword back out, and focus on one of the moves I saw at the fair. Sir Renard was using it against people with swords, but I can repurpose it, surely?

    Once the Leshen gets where he wants to be, he storms out of the cloud, right arm already in motion for an overhead swing. This is my time. I raise my blade above my head as I step in and under the arm, the edge of my sliver both deflecting his wood-like claws and leaving deep gash as I use his own force against him. I follow through on the deflect and step around his body, slashing out the back of his right leg as well.

    The Leshen stumbles and kneels down to the ground as it finds its body without the support it has grown used to. I see it desperately trying to slash behind its back with its other claw, but a quick backstep out of reach and it passes by me harmlessly. I leap back in with a thrust through its chest, and with a final screech, the Leshen’s body locks up, and breaks apart. Leaving behind a cracked deer skull and some small pieces of the wood-like material its body was made out of. I take a few deep breaths, and let a full grin wash over my face. I did it, I completed my first contract. Now I feel like I can truly call myself a witcher, without feeling like a two-bit imposter.

    As I walk back to the Cabin with the loot the Leshen left behind, I think back on the fight, but more importantly, on my use of Aard. It was instinctual, using it there. But how did I do it? I always knew they existed, but I thought it would be outside of my reach, since I was only given basic mastery.

    As I thought that, I swear I heard someone laughing at and mocking me, but my senses reassure me that there’s no one in the forest or the cabin, so I just ignore it. Probably my mind playing tricks on me. This means that I really should try and train my signs, since some of the uses would definitely save me from what would currently be death sentences.

    I found and ate some berries on the way back to the cabin, so I’m in a good enough condition physically to carry everything back to my home. I’m lucky enough to avoid an encounter with the Bats or with the police as I ride back on my bike, and when I get inside and lock everything away, I send Selena a message about the job being complete to a number she gave me, but also added a note that her cabin was unfortunately raided before I got there. I told her I didn’t track them down since I wasn’t being paid to, and that if she wanted me to do so, I’d be willing to negotiate as equals. I debate for a second, before adding that if she tries to use my identity against me again, I will kill her.

    I have my reasons for not fighting her, but they only go this far. I refuse to be a lackey without adequate compensation, and her trying to blackmail me into being one with my most important protection against Batman will not be accepted any longer.

    She doesn’t respond to my message, but I do get a notification from my banking app that a ‘Kitty Kat’ sent $3,000 to my account. I’ll take that as acceptance of my words. I fucking deserve more than that, but since I helped myself to an obscene amount of wealth today, I’ll let it slide and add her to my list of “Clients to be unreasonably expensive with.” A list that so far, only has her on it.

    I don’t have any mounts for the Leshen’s skull, so I just placed it on my dresser for now, and decided to kick back and relax for the rest of the night. I’ve earned it. Let’s watch some brainless television like “The Real Adventures of the Golden Girls”, which was, would you believe it, a superhero spin-off of the Golden Girls. For unintentional comedy television, this universe is a goldmine.

    E — N — D

    Another 5k. Good, I think I can keep up chapters of this size, even if it means I don’t update regularly. My sickness is mostly gone, though my throat is still killing me.

    I hope y’all enjoyed this one, I actually had a lot of fun writing the Leshen fight, so I hope it flows well. Since Lycaon doesn’t have a bestiary on hand, I’ll use my omnipotent point of view to tell you that the Leshen was young, but had an affinity for building totems. It thought they were pretty.

    I think next chapter or the one after I’ll get started on the Big Plot™ since I do kind of want the story to end eventually. I think this chapter put us at 50k, which is nutty, since I started this because I was bored and saw that like, no one was using the witcher powerset. I’m no skilled writer, so feel free to leave comments if I messed up, but this one I’m happy with.

    Last thing, did you guys know how expensive swords are? Like, it’s kind of crazy. I did some rudimentary google searches since I didn’t want to write a dissertation about the prices of forging silver, and they can be upwards of 4k. I just said fuck it and threw down a price, since let’s be real, unless it’s super cheap or unreasonably expensive no one cares, right?

    Thanks for reading, as always, and see y’all in the next one.
     
  29. FTR2017

    FTR2017 Well worn.

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    Yes! This is the stuff I was eagerly waiting for! :sneaky:

    Good on him for having found a weaponsmith who did a good job at making his blade, and I hope he researches armor more.

    After all, there are enemies to whom leather armor is meaningless ... but a good laminated armor can parry, much more so heavy plate.

    Or learning more magic to enchant the leather armor to make it stronger against slashing attacks. Press X to doubt on this one ... . :p

    Thanks for the chapter, it was great! :D

    Edit:

    A super-cheap or super-expensive sword would ring warning bells in my mind, 'cause that would mean they are sword-shaped crap.

    Congratulations on your health's recovery, now to drink more chicken soup while this cold snap goes on! :)
     
    The_Great_NPC likes this.
  30. suikofan

    suikofan Not too sore, are you?

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    I do like that while he knows DC and the Witcher he doesn't have encyclopedic knowledge of them. Like worrying that silver plating wont work when that's what they are in world or not quite knowing perfectly what The Green is.
     
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