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Then Be Batman [DC SI]

I'm extremely sad Ms. Anderson said no. She's now my favorite character in this story.

The cottage diversion was interesting. It was a little annoying, but mostly because I really love this premise and it was eating up word count for other stuff I enjoy more; I'm sure once the story is longer it won't stick out much. I'm also looking forward to seeing how it gets used.

When I was writing her, I originally intended for her to be the date. But as I was describing her and doing the setup, I realized that this was a lady with no time nor patience for that sort of nonsense, she has shit to do.

Total but minor spoiler. He's going to get his hands on some Nth metal and make some rings. The best thing about Nth metal is that it gives you the ability to punch ghosts. The reason he wants it so bad is because it does gravity manipulation and will let him fly. But the actual best property of Nth metal is is promotes serious regeneration in humans.

Yes. He's going to loan a pair of Nth metal rings to Mrs Anderson so the regeneration fixes her fucked up arthritic hands, and generally promotes her longevity. Not for forever. But long enough to heal her. Then they go to Alfred. Then Lucius. Then around to various other cool old people who need a tune up, like the Kents.

What's more valuable?

The ability to bitch slap a ghost?

The ability to fly?

Or both extra life and better quality of life to people heroes rely on?

I think the Cottage stuff was important as it is a Chekhov's gun; as you mentioned it being an alternate entrance into his lair, but it did seem to dominate the chapter, leaving very little in the way of his interaction with Alfred, and Mrs. Anderson on a cliff hanger. Maybe he could play with the idea of Alfred retiring to the cottage later in his batman career, so he can help our protagonist without bring suspicion. Could be a plot point that Alfred is getting old and unlike others Batman's, he is trying to help lighten the load of running an entire estate by actually Hiring Staff, then letting Alfred do what he can by himself.

Your MCs is fighting the entirety of Gothem crime, could not just he hire a few and swear them to secrecy for a roof over their head and a steady job? If the Joker can get repeated help when he is know for killing his own men on a whim, why can`t our scary powerful and bullet proof madman that has more money then god get loyal men to his cause. Plus, Alfred would be more likely to survive attacks on Wayne Manor with the extra hands.

Just want to point out that Batman got so ludicrously good due to having every waking second dedicated to learning and training, your guy can do much the same with his powers, but really put in the effort to helping Gothem that the original never had the time to do. Don`t feel like you're letting us down by not having him beat up criminal all the time, it can be just as entertaining to have him do what Batman could not.

Well, the complaints were valid, because it really was awful pacing. I mean, the dichotomy between 'Hey, I'm suddenly fukkin rich, I can HELP people' and 'Aww man, dressing up as Batman makes me feel like I should be trick or treating, not doing serious hero shit', is pretty much what this initial story arc is about.

Intellectually, he knows Gotham and the World needs Batman. But in his heart, it's silly buggers. And it's real difficult to do something you don't inherently believe in.

He'll figure it out. This isn't a tragedy. It's just fucking hard to be Batman.

I had fun with the general set-up this chapter, though I'm curious about how widely applicable the Construction skill is.

I agree that Ms Anderson is cool

Yeah, she'll be a major supporting character. Kinda an OC Lucius Fox, but for charity instead of business.

I hope you remembered to include enough space in the Batcave for the animatronic T-Rex and the giant penny.

Yeah. It'll be a few chapters before I do a Batcave walkthrough, and indeed I might do it as another informational chapter. The most notable issue he's run into is the difficulty in setting up things so he doesn't end up with bat shit all over his tools and workspaces. He can petition the totemic spirit of the bat... but bats are gonna shit where bats are gonna shit, and even a conceptual spirit isn't gonna have much influence over that.

This is nice and I like how he actively works on a ground level with them to give them the tools they need.
This Batman kind of reminds me of the one Unpretty writes.

I've mentioned it before, but Unpretty is a major inspiration for this. Batman SHOULD be the heart of Gotham, not a violent madman with mental issues.

It`s good to see the ground floor when helping people, yes he waited for applause but he never gave any indication he was expecting it, which gave a lot more credibility to his desires to be genuine. Every other batman has done fair amount of public charity, but it has always been with a camera crew minimum or more. Here your batman gave a show of dedication by basically saying that money is no issue, for as long as there is a road forward, he is willing to foot the bill. Plus, he got everyone involved, people who have probably been out of work for a few years have a taste of self-reliance that has been missing for a long while.

That`s something almost no one in DC has really done regularly, getting people off their feet. Sure, Super Man has talked down a jumper here or there, even stopped domestic abuse once; but Bruce Wayne here is giving people recent job history, getting families some spending money for clothes without hole or medicine that they couldn't afford before. He is lifting people off the pavement and onto their own two feet by just pointing out goals that they can achieve and look back at with pride. It`s not always inability holding people back, but just a lack of hope that it can get better, that this is not the end of the road. Life kicked these people down, and here comes a man who should not care about them for any reason but a tax write-off, but here he is looking out for people, for the sake of helping because he can, not because it will make him look good the the rest of society.

No matter what the other Bruce Waynes think, everyone only saw it as their motives as more stunts to appear to be kinder then life, while here they can`t deny he is trying to do the right thing, and just the right thing.

Hope you are feeling better, and I wish you luck on finding that balance in life now.

Health is sort of my bugaboo right now, but the depression is doing better.

Bruce Wayne does do philanthropy, and usually only halfheartedly plays up the playboy angle while he's doing so, at least in some continuities. It's all the other parties/galas/events and whatnot he mansluts it up. I'm not sure if you've read them, but if you haven't, you should check out Unpretty's works on AO3, which is a fairly major inspiration for the kind of Batman this SI wants to be. And the best thing is, as far as he's concerned, trying to uplift Gotham is pretty central to his actual mission. The Court of Owls and Doctor Gotham are nurturing some mildly eldritch but seriously evil shit under the city, and if he does have to, as was said earlier, fill in Gotham's potholes with gold and ground up hundred dollar bills, it's money well spent.

In real life, focusing all the charity efforts of one of the richest people in the world on a single city would be sort of horrible. Also it's New Jersey. Eww. J/K

In this setting, though, it may quite literally be necessary for the good of the world. Nobody except the most evil people in the setting want this particularly malignant tumor to hatch and some rough beast go shuffling off for kidneys.

But more on that later.
 
Nice, though I thought he was still looking for a date? He could have mentioned it. A girl who lives in a shelter that just burned down is a pretty good story for a date to a charity gala too.
 
It`s good to see the ground floor when helping people, yes he waited for applause but he never gave any indication he was expecting it, which gave a lot more credibility to his desires to be genuine. Every other batman has done fair amount of public charity, but it has always been with a camera crew minimum or more.
Note that there's nothing wrong with him trying to be visible when he does this. He can do more if the people he's trying to help see him as someone who is actually there to help rather than just a hole to stuff platitudes and complements in until money falls out. And a public reputation for philanthropy is valuable both for his cover and for the city in general.

Quitely fixing a problem and slipping away from no one the wiser may be great karma, but it's not actually more effective than public acts of assistance.


Nice, though I thought he was still looking for a date? He could have mentioned it. A girl who lives in a shelter that just burned down is a pretty good story for a date to a charity gala too.
Be hard to make the request without the woman possibly feeling pressured.
 
Great chapter; you didn't go so far into detail on the skill training but it's still all covered and I enjoyed how he helped with the shelter, while giving proper answers ton npeople so beaten down they don't expect any
 
Note that there's nothing wrong with him trying to be visible when he does this. He can do more if the people he's trying to help see him as someone who is actually there to help rather than just a hole to stuff platitudes and complements in until money falls out. And a public reputation for philanthropy is valuable both for his cover and for the city in general.

Quitely fixing a problem and slipping away from no one the wiser may be great karma, but it's not actually more effective than public acts of assistance.



Be hard to make the request without the woman possibly feeling pressured.

Oh absolutely. Copypasting this from SB:

I am a bit lazy, and I'm also an introvert. I don't really like dealing with people. But I CAN do it. So, as an SI, as Bruce, I could help. This Bruce isn't doing these things without letting the society pages know because he's trying to be authentic or anything like that. He's doing it because he knows it needs to be done, but he'd rather pound rusty nails through his dick than talk to people publicly about it. Reporters and busybodies, specifically. He doesn't mind explaining to the actual people what he's doing. Realistically, he SHOULD be leveraging his efforts as part of building a reputation and goodwill for him and his companies. His not doing that isn't part of some master plan, it's because he's actually socially awkward, and faking it until he makes it.

Edit: Oh, and, yes, that's literally exactly it when it comes to something like just inviting one of the poor women to the gala. The black woman here, she's a bit more relevant later, she's probably got the confidence and sense of self to handle it.

But even if she could, it would still ultimately look like some sort of human zoo exhibit. Look at this poor thing. Shouldn't we treat it better? Perform, poor thing. Dance for us, and we'll throw you a treat.

The power imbalance is just too wrong.
 
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Note that there's nothing wrong with him trying to be visible when he does this. He can do more if the people he's trying to help see him as someone who is actually there to help rather than just a hole to stuff platitudes and complements in until money falls out. And a public reputation for philanthropy is valuable both for his cover and for the city in general.

Quitely fixing a problem and slipping away from no one the wiser may be great karma, but it's not actually more effective than public acts of assistance.



Be hard to make the request without the woman possibly feeling pressured.

No, the publicity is not inherently bad, what I was pointing out is that most comics and cartoon shows have Wayne doing this in such a way that it only comes off as only for PR reasons. Everyone knows how much money Bruce has and does spend on charities, but that`s it. That is the extent of how in-depth most of his efforts go. Other Batmans spend most of their time fighting crime, while their public appearances are very well recorded to keep their other activities below radar, and then they donate dump trucks of money to charities; and that last one is the most he does to fight the ills of rooted in Gothem.

The problem is not the money Bruce spends of revitalizing Gothem, the problem is that the population of Gothem never tries to resist the rot at its core. Doesn't matter if you build new factories, or more cheep apartments with public parks, and even charity hospitals, will all fall due to all fact that "Dramatic events" will guarantee they get trashed or become infamous locations. This is a comic book world where the population is useless until a "named character" shows up. But, if everyday did people stand up, if they feel for even just one moment they can act, than most of those event can be sidestepped or out right prevented. And that is the point of why this Bruce Wayne is such a breath of fresh air.

This Batman is the one that is getting people to realize that they can do something, that these "events" are set backs and not road blocks. "For evil to flourish, it only requires good men to do nothing.", is the main mantra of Modern day batman comic land scape, as it seems no one but Batman is fighting the evil that is rooted in Gothem. And it does flourish as The Court Of Owls corruption, or The Ghouls distain for injecting moral fiber with anything but blades and just the everyday crook(Corrupt politicians/Crooked bankers/dirty Cops), beat down and abuse the money entering the system for their own goals.

Publicity is great for getting your name out, but as long as the regular people do nothing, it wont matter, "Same shit, different day" is Gothem.

As for Ms Anderson, while it would be suffering for her to go, I think it is important for him to show people he`s trying to help, that he`s not doing these Charities just to socialize and get kudos points from all the big wigs. Plus, this would get him quite a few sympathy points showing just how much he has to deal with in his daily life. The most important part of getting people to do what you want is showing them that you work just as hard as them, after all. And he is probably going to need a lot of friends everywhere to be the better batman.

I want him to get to be Batman as much as the next guy, but I really want to see how far a batman that has every shelter and clinic in his pocket alerting him to the going-on`s of the Gothems streets. He is but one man, but many hands make for little work. He is to be the super hero, that is a hero to those above and below.
 
I like the separation between Bruce and Batman. I just hope you don't put unnecessary focus on one aspect and neglect the other.

I think Nugar will do it Justice, we`re just in that weird beginning emo phase of the batman. Plus, the next chapter is promised to have batman in it, so well see where this goes.
 
I very much hope the joker gets access to the game and the stats, skills, and abilities that come with it. Batman and joker are always connected and I firmly believe the joker should be a menace, not a monster.
He should still be crazy, and occasionally kill people without remorse, but it should be like, "i broke into gothams water treatment plant to put laxatives in everyones water and accidentally killed a guard, bonking him on the head too hard, oopsies what can you do" and not "ha ha ha batman i killed 300 people with that bomb, they had a blast!"
With the gamer system, joker would have perks like contortionist, deep pockets, and mad genius. He would have some crazy goal that nobody could see coming, and take steps to accomplish his goal that nobody could connect.
I enjoy your story very much and i want to see it develop further.
 
I just read chapter 1. Batman SI is by itself already amazing but having the SI realize that they are not Batman. He needs help and Bat-Mite helps him as the source of Gamer Powers that's just amazing, I love it.
 
Chapter 5 rewrite is almost done. I think I'm having a stroke, though. Called the bondulance. Thanks, everyone.

Yea, just take it easy man.

We all have to die, but its better to have it over dinner or after making love then, trying to figure out of gamer batman is batman`ing enough. Laydown if it helps, but protect your health first and foremost, we will still be here after a nap.
 
I lived, bitch. Did the unfamiliar ceiling joke and everything.

Small stroke. Not the worst in the world, I still have the neurons that distinguish me from a marmoset. Still have muscle control and language and memory. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

What I have lost is sensation on my left side. Face, shoulder, head, arm, and hand. I still have some sensation, but it comes with a side of buzzing tingling, and it's not very good. I can still use my left arm and hand, but my coordination is bad because I don't have much touch. What's super fucking weird is I also lost a bit of touch on part of my tongue. Not taste, exactly, but texture and such. It's hard to describe. Imagine drinking a soda and for part of your tongue, there's no carbonation. It's weeeeeird. Also, I sleep with a CPAP, and that's weird. Since I can't really feel it well on half my face and head, I keep thinking it's leaking or about to fall off. Imagine a facehugger that's on you, but trying to push you away.

Not sure the full extent of the damage. Mri is still being processed. Like I said, I do have some sensation, but it's like, normal nerves are orange juice. Strong and immediate. But my left nerves are la croix. A rumor of taste and annoying carbonated. Which is especially ironic given I can't sense carbonation on those parts of my tongue.

If you have to have a stroke, this is just about as good as it gets.

Unfortunately, it's still a stroke. This is my new normal. Not reccomended.
 
I lived, bitch. Did the unfamiliar ceiling joke and everything.

Small stroke. Not the worst in the world, I still have the neurons that distinguish me from a marmoset. Still have muscle control and language and memory. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

What I have lost is sensation on my left side. Face, shoulder, head, arm, and hand. I still have some sensation, but it comes with a side of buzzing tingling, and it's not very good. I can still use my left arm and hand, but my coordination is bad because I don't have much touch. What's super fucking weird is I also lost a bit of touch on part of my tongue. Not taste, exactly, but texture and such. It's hard to describe. Imagine drinking a soda and for part of your tongue, there's no carbonation. It's weeeeeird. Also, I sleep with a CPAP, and that's weird. Since I can't really feel it well on half my face and head, I keep thinking it's leaking or about to fall off. Imagine a facehugger that's on you, but trying to push you away.

Not sure the full extent of the damage. Mri is still being processed. Like I said, I do have some sensation, but it's like, normal nerves are orange juice. Strong and immediate. But my left nerves are la croix. A rumor of taste and annoying carbonated. Which is especially ironic given I can't sense carbonation on those parts of my tongue.

If you have to have a stroke, this is just about as good as it gets.

Unfortunately, it's still a stroke. This is my new normal. Not reccomended.

Thankful that you pulled through, can`t imagine the feeling.

As for sensation, sounds about right from what we got out of grandma after her stroke. Wish she was still around, would be helpful to give some perspective of what to do going forward.

"Don`t let your self stop moving" is all I remember from her when it comes to strokes, though if there`s any advice she had for after, she never got the chance. I`m hopeful the fact that you can still move your left side means that recovery of sensation is just some kinetic therapy and spatial review, maybe a few mirror sessions.

I know I`m just some guy on the internet, so I hope you find these replies in good cheer. Not much I can say, but, that i find humor the best Medicine for a weary soul, and that I hope you find such humor both around and inside you.
 
liking this so far, never been much of a batman fan but this tickles my fancy
 
He could ask Lois Lane out. "I need someone who can both handle the publicity of going to a gala with me and who isn't going to try to make a relationship out of it. A Pulitzer prize winning journalist such as yourself can certainly handle publicity and I imagine the only thing you're looking to get out of this is a story."
 
Chapter 5
Running around Gotham rooftops in the middle of the night while dressed as a giant bat sounds a lot cooler than it is.

Actually, it fucking sucks.

It's hot. Grit and Endurance mean I'm even more resistant to heat now than I was growing up in Louisiana without air conditioning, but it's still unpleasant. It was early June and the temps were climbing, and the breeze was going towards the ocean.

Mostly, though, I just can't get over how ridiculous this is.

I'm dressed as a giant goddamn bat. I'm a billionaire running around trying to personally stop crime. I'm not even being loud and visible, which does more to stop crime than sneaking about trying to catch people in the act. There's a reason cop cars are easily identifiable when they do patrols.

It's stupid. It's just so goddamn stupid.

I know I need to do it. I'm obligated to do it.

Doesn't mean I don't hate every moment of it.

Anyway. I'd actually originally intended to wait a bit before I went back out. I need to redesign my grapple harpoon. I also need to design some solid anchor points I can quietly install on rooftop edges.

But I'm out here for one very good reason.

Kaye Austin, the woman whose husband was abusing her the night before?

She never went to a shelter.

Now, there's potentially plenty of perfectly understandable reasons for that.

Her husband got his arm dislocated and an enforced power nap last night. He almost certainly ended up going to the doctor. She might have thought he wouldn't be a threat for a while. Or maybe she was just bunkering down, and kicked him out of the apartment. Or maybe she had family to go to.

Or maybe she didn't trust the intentions of the giant guy in the black bat suit who broke into her home and punched her husband.

All perfectly understandable reasons to not go to a women's shelter.

Worse reasons include things like, forgiving her husband, or being too scared of retaliation to leave him.

I intervened once, and now I've gotta go check on her. I stepped in to stop her from getting the shit beat out of her by her husband, and now it's my responsibility to keep checking in on her. Sort of like that old saying that, once you save a life, you're responsible for that life.

Please don't be dead.

Please don't be dead.

That's all I could think about as I made my way through Gotham that night.

There's lots of reasons to not go to a shelter.

Just don't be dead.


xxxxxxxxx


Fuck.

She's dead.

God. Damn. It.

I should have put that abusive fuck in a body cast. I should have escorted her to the shelter.

I should have, I should have.

But instead, I was staring in the apartment window at the dead woman on the floor of her kitchen.

All of my civilian mindset was saying things like, if I break in, I could potentially contaminate the scene. I should just call the cops. It was obviously the husband, even Gotham PD isn't likely to fuck that up.

But that's not taking responsibility. And what if it wasn't the husband? There's plenty of other murderers in Gotham. I'm in the shoes of the guy who should have been the world's greatest detective. I'm not a civilian. I'm a vigilante.

Time to vigil.

There weren't any bars over the windows on this building, and while there were locks, I've got a flat tool purpose made to jimmy open windows. Also, while I'm a big man, my agility is high, and I slipped in without making a mess, closing the window behind me.

I had my Observe skill going the entire time.

Observe is based on the common ability in litrpgs, tied to the conceptual gestalt of Batman detective abilities across the multiverse. I actually have it going pretty much continuously, though I generally don't bother giving it actual attention unless I need it.

I needed it here.

Kaye Austin had been dead for one hour and seventeen minutes, killed by nine stab wounds to her neck and upper chest . She'd been killed by a kitchen knife, which was still sticking into her aorta. The knife had a long, slender, eight inch blade, made for deboning meat, but was low quality, stamped stainless steel with a metal grip.

By Observing it very closely, I was able to detect the fingerprints on the handle, as well as the fact that the man's hand had slipped down and been cut on the blade when one of the stabs had met sudden resistance in a rib.

Observe is nearly magical. It's not instant, but as my highest rated skill, currently at a 33, it can do things you'd need a lab to do otherwise.

Those were Ennis Austin's fingerprints. That was Ennis Austin's blood.

Ennis Austin had killed his wife by stabbing her repeatedly with a kitchen knife in his off hand after I had dislocated his right shoulder a day ago.

I checked out the rest of the apartment.

Fresh empty beer cans overflowed from a trash can near the couch. There was an empty pain pill bottle on one of the kitchen counters with today's date on it. The bedroom was a mess, but more in the way an angry person would just throw stuff around, not someone looking to steal things.

Bloody clothing was in the hamper. Looks like Ennis had the presence of mind to change clothes and wipe himself off, but not actually wash himself more than just using the sink and putting a towel around his hand. Then he'd left.

Mrs. Austin had promised to call the police last night and turn her husband in for battery. I don't know if she actually did that.

Dammit. I don't actually have easy access to Gotham's police database. For one thing, I don't think there IS much of a database at this point in time. I'm pretty sure most of it is actual paper files in cabinets. Without a man on the inside, like a commissioner, I'd need to actually physically check the files myself, which isn't viable.

But that's just firming up the details.

Roughly what happened was, Ennis went to the doctor and had his shoulder reset. They gave him a few pain pills. He came home, ate them all in one go, and chased them with alcohol. That kept him quiet most of the day, which was probably a relief to Kaye, who might have had a decent day with her husband so quiet.

Him being injured, but also in a narcotic and booze slumber, probably influenced her decision to put off dealing with her abusive relationship another day.

But then he woke up.

And he was out of pain medication. I bet he accused her of somehow hiring me to come beat his ass, or maybe she was cheating on him with me, or something. Maybe he was just angry he'd gotten a taste of his own medicine.

So he killed her and stumbled into the night with a cut up hand.

Gotham was a dense city, so they didn't own a vehicle. But he WAS bleeding, and a good cut on your fingers can soak through a towel in a hurry. There were blood spots all over the apartment, many of which he'd stepped in and tracked further.

It had actually been kind of a chore to avoid stepping in them and contaminating the place myself.

Hmm.

Observe.

The blood trail left the apartment. It grew fainter and fainter, but, like I said, once a skill or stat got past human peak at 25, it just got into comic book levels of 'no real person could possibly be able to do that'.

It was somewhat slow going, as I had to study the ground very carefully as I walked, but I tracked that blood trail down the hall, down the stairs, out the door, and onto the sidewalks.

And then it stopped.

Because of course it did.

I had been hoping the murdering asshole had decided to walk to a friend, or head to a bar, or something. But nope, he got into a vehicle of some sort, probably a cab.

I didn't have access to phone records any more than I did police records, and while I suppose it's possible super high levels of Observe might be able to track a vehicle, I didn't have access to that.

Damn it.

Damn it damn it dammit.

Not that the guy was likely to get away with this. The near helpless cops from the 60s Batman show could have figured out that this guy was the murderer.

In pre-CSI days, the case would be handed to a detective. The detective would talk to the neighbors, find out the guy had a history of beating his old lady, disappeared from his home on the date of the murder, and had cuts on his off hand. The hardest part would literally be finding the guy now that he left.

Once found, he'd be arrested, brought to trial, and, not being particularly powerful, wealthy, or popular, would have been swiftly convicted by a jury of his peers and sentenced to whatever was typical for murder at the time. One of those cases where the justice system would work properly.

The only reason I was involved at all was that I was the catalyst that caused him to murder his wife.

I felt sick to my heart.

If I found this guy, I was going to fuck him up.

I am too emotionally invested in this. I cannot allow myself to be the one to find this fuck. Batman is only worthy as a hero when he does what the police CANNOT DO.

Not as a rich fucker taking out his mental issues on the poor and insane.

It took me several minutes on a rooftop to get myself under control. When I finally took one last deep breath and withdrew from self-imposed meditation, I realized I didn't even remember getting up there. I must have used the bat-grapple.

Properly, I mean.

Something to think about later.

I glided down to an alley and found a pay phone in the lobby of the apartment building, then did a little bit of voice disguise when I called the cops.

"911, what is your emergency?" asked a man on the other end.

"Hey, uh, I got a… Well, you see, there's this woman, Faye, and her husband, Ennis. Uh, Austin. Last name Austin…" I rambled.

"Sir, is there an emergency?" the man asked, somewhat testily.

Poor form on his part. People often ramble in an emergency. Part of being able to handle emergency calls is in guiding them, not getting mad at them.

"Yeah, there's a goddamn emergency!" I snapped back. "She's dead! Ennis finally killed her!"

There was silence on the other end. Then rapid-fire typing. "Sir, I need an address."

I gave him the address, then kept talking, even talking over him when he tried to ask my name. "Look, Ennis has been beating her off and on since as long as I've known 'em. Something happened last night, another fight. They was quiet today, but then there was a bunch more shouting. Thought about calling the cops, but they never do anything, and the yelling finally stopped. But I saw Ennis leave a while ago, dripping blood from his hand. I tried knocking on the door, but Kaye never answered. Didn't want to do anything at first, but I got worried, and I climbed the fire escape and looked in the window, and she's dead on the floor with a knife sticking in her. You guys need to send some cops out here, and maybe arrest that fucker Ennis, too."

"Sir, I need your-"

"Maybe he was going to the hospital?" I hinted. "I dunno. But next time maybe do something when people are beating their old ladies? Before they kill 'em?"

"Sir-"

I hung up and vacated the premises.


xxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxx


When Bat Mite, along with help from the totemic spirit of the Bat, created the Gamer system I now had, he asked me to swear an oath as part of the process.

Not just an oath, but an Oath. A full magically binding promise. A bane, a taboo. A thing that simultaneously limited and empowered the swearer.

Batman does not kill.

If I was to be Batman, Bat Mite wanted me to swear to not kill.

And I so swore.

Because, you know, one of the things I've always kind of appreciated about the character is that self-awareness of his own mental illness. Though the Doylist explanation is, of course, that the character was meant for children, and also had to deal with the comics code authority and censorship and all that, I'm fucking HERE in the goddamn story now so it's the Watsonian explanation I have to deal with on a daily basis.

Bruce Wayne is a man aware of his own potential for evil. And everyone else's. His paranoia of others turning evil is trumped only by his paranoia of himself doing the same, which has caused a tremendous amount of pain and suffering for himself and others. Bruce Wayne is not a healthy man. He refuses to kill, even people that so clearly, obviously need to be killed, because he's sure that it's not so much of a slippery slope as an actual precipice with no bottom in sight.

One step and he'll turn into a fascist tyrant.

So Batman doesn't kill. Doesn't compromise his morality. He's not Owlman, he's fucking Rorschach. Black and white never mix, no compromise, not even in the face of Armageddon.

That's not me.

Well, that's not who I was. I was just some guy.

And I suspect that's why I was chosen.

When Batman died, at least two factions of the higher order beings who fuck with this set of multiverses fought over what to do.

And I am the COMPROMISE. Sure, that's a nice vote of confidence, that the forces of good think there's at least a decent chance I won't fuck it up. But that's a hell, no, a Hell of a blow towards my self-image as a basically decent person.

Some serious fucking Evil thinks there's a pretty good chance I'll either just fail to do my new job, or fuck it all up, or worst, go bad.

I don't want to be Evil.

Like Batman, I'm a fairly introspective person. I'm pretty sure I am aware of my own capacity for evil. Everyone has intrusive thoughts. But part of me has always wondered: Just how much Evil could I do before I got stopped? And then, because I'm that kind of thinker, a guy who wrote stories as opposed to just reading them… I'm pretty sure I have a better idea of the horrors I could do than the average person.

Most murders are done in the heat of the moment. Serial killers and the like are hard to catch, because they don't follow established rules, but also relatively easy to catch, because they're usually insane and make illogical choices. There's this saying that there's no such thing as a perfect crime, but there totally is. Shit goes unsolved all the time. There are serial killers who have never been caught. Fortunately, as someone who wasn't actually insane, who didn't wrestle with those demons, it's easy for me to make the choice to not do evil things. Also, as a relatively powerless person, I also didn't have to wrestle with temptations, either. Power corrupts. I didn't have any power. I was squeaky clean from corruption.

But.

But but but.

Here I'm rich. I'm powerful. It's like a Mary Sue fantasy come true, except it-

SCARES THE EVER LOVING FUCK OUT OF ME.

I'm a bit lazy. Not in the sense that I want to lay around and not do anything, but that I don't like doing things that are difficult. And suddenly I have money? A whole lot of spending money? Yeah, I needed to grind my construction stat, but the reason I built that cottage was because I've always wanted to build a cozy little cottage. I couldn't justify self-indulgences like, say, flying out to scuba dive and fish at some remote tropical island, or finally getting to eat ortolan bunting with my napkin over my head to hide my sin from God. But building something I could use later? That's not really being lazy, I tell myself. That's a secret tool which will help us later.

That's a lie. I built that fucking thing because I'm overwhelmed and I needed the relief. I built that thing because, while there is a tiny little artificer in the workshop of my heart screaming 'MAKE SOMETHING MOTHERFUCKER' at me while hammering on an anvil, that little guy looks around at the completely alien physics of this universe with quite a bit of trepidation. Yeah, it's exciting. But it's also weird and alien and intimidating. Carpentry at least makes fucking sense. Stonecutting is a new thing to learn, but also works under a ruleset I'm familiar with. It's an acceptable 'newness'.

So, right away, I'm afraid I'll be too lazy to be Batman. His ridiculous drive and discipline is the most inhuman part of him, after all. Even Superman goes home to eat dinner with his parents sometimes.

And, obviously, I'm afraid I'll fuck up. The classic thing about comic books was that the hero always wins eventually, right? But that actually hasn't been a thing in a long time. I grew up in the gritty, edgy 90s, where it was cool to see the heroes lose and die. And there are so god damned many bad or evil worlds in this multiverse. But there's worlds that are made to go evil, and then there's the worlds where they just struggle and suffer.

I hated the Young Justice TV series. It was good, and it was engaging. But between all the invasions, and the world being split along age lines, and the attempts to turn off the sun, and all the other shit they were often only able to reverse after the fact… That was not a very happy setting. It makes me hyper aware that my decisions can potentially get a LOT of people killed.

But you know what I hated the most? The thing I most revile about all of the DC continuities?

Injustice.

Fucking Injustice. Now, admittedly, Superman killed the Joker. There's a lot of potential reasons that can be a bad thing, especially for someone as weak to magic as Clark. Have it be the result of the horrible curse-focus of Gotham's evil on the Joker, jumping to the man that kills him. And I really appreciated the Injustice what if/elseworld where Batman snapped the Joker's neck. While it's kind of ridiculous that they really did put Bruce in jail after that, given he's a hero and the Joker literally tried to nuke a US City, fine. Maybe it was them just giving in to Bruce's demands for punishment.

Also, that gave me the idea that might really be the way to safely kill the Joker. Kill him, and accept the punishment. Publicly. I talked about it with Bat Mite, and while he won't confirm it, he did say I'm on the right track.

Anyway. Injustice. I'm okay with Superman going fascist, especially as a result of some sort of curse.

But I hated, just hated that some of the other heroes went with him. Especially Diana. Doylist, I suppose it's acceptable as a story. But the story is suddenly far more real now that I'm in the goddamn story. And so I hate it.

I hate seeing paragons brought low, especially ones as noble as Superman and Wonder Woman. Let Superman pastiches become evil. Omniman, The Homelander, et cetera. Or use corruption effects, like curses.

But even those corruptive effects bother me now.

I have a new nightmare.

The Bat Who Laughs.

Marvel has universal and multi-universal scale atrocities happen all the time. But while I've always considered Marvel to have a higher average quality than DC, DC has higher highs.

And lower lows.

And I also fucking hated The Bat Who Laughs.

It happened 'here', for sufficiently large values of here. It's why I'm in this fucking mess.

I freely admit to not understanding all of it. Frankly, even as a 'comic book multiverse', it's too big for one normal human mind to handle. Even the multiuniversal, higher dimensional being Bat Mite quietly confessed he didn't understand everything that happened, either.

But as an Outsider who has his own level of insight into it, I'm exempt from some of The Rulez about what Bat Mite can and cannot do with lower beings. So, keeping in mind that I have both an imperfect memory and imperfect understanding, and Bat Mite also has imperfect understanding, most of the current situation I find myself in is Barbatos's fault.

He's dead. Or defeated, at least. What is not truly alive cannot be killed, with strange eons et fucking cetera. But my existence here is the result of efforts by the Hyper Adapter, a localized part of the larger multiversal evil Barbatos, to subvert the Batman concept.

Not ideal!

But it's been defeated! Barbatos is not the evil vaguely eldritch horror slumbering under Gotham! It's also not the bat that scared this young Bruce and set him along the path to becoming Batman! The Hyper Adapter/Barbatos can time travel, though, and in some universes went back in time and ATE the horror under Gotham, and also the totem spirit of the bat, becoming those things, and retroactively becoming the focus of Doctor Gotham and the Court of Owls. But Barbatos was defeated, and never got a chance to do that shit here.

So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

But I'm still here. Someone who shouldn't be Batman, but is.

And in my own rambling way, what I'm getting at is, I'm here because I also have a great capacity for Evil. Both, or either, innately but also if I get corrupted.

It's so tempting, right?

Find Jack Napier. Is he going to be the one that becomes the Joker here, or is it going to be one of the others? Why take chances, right? Kill his ass.

Him and so, so many more. My personal highest level of contempt for comic book heroes' unwillingness to kill has always been with Victor Zsasz. He's not a themed criminal, he's literally just a serial killer. Come the fuck on, people! He doesn't get the revolving door treatment like Joker, but he still keeps getting out.

And while I'm at it, why not start dealing with some of the international villains? Queen Bee? Count Vertigo? Doylistically, DC comics has been shy about looking too hard at the shit China gets up to, leading to a happy Watsonian result in them being significantly more palatable here than on Prime Earth, but they still have Socialist Red Guardsman.

I'm pretty sure Merry Olde England has the Caligula Club and its shenanigans going on. Here in America, we've got General Eiling, Cadmus fuckery, and all the other secret agency evils. Oh, and all the fucking alien empires and villains. Just here in Gotham I've got the fucking Court of Owls to deal with, as well as the mafia.

The problem with my situation is that I am aware of the scale of the task ahead of me.

And right now, I've even failed to stop a simple abuser from killing his wife.

It's too much. It's just too god damned much to take on. It keeps coming back to me, over and over.

Strike first, strike hard.

DO NOT LET THEM SEE YOU COMING.

DO NOT LET THEM ESCALATE.







I don't want to be that guy.

I don't want to be the guy running a fascist police state, even a mild one. The only part I really liked about Nolan's Dark Knight movies was the eventual destruction of the massive privacy invading cell phone echolocation thing.

But I could totally be that guy.

The guy that said 'Fuck it, everybody finds out now.'

The guy that woke up one day and chose violence.

I've got a lot of rage in me. A lot of hate.

I swore an Oath to not kill people, only monsters, only the truly, unquestionably irredeemable, and even then only if they're an active threat.

But I can put them in body casts. I can revoke their spine privileges. I can trap their regenerativly immortal asses in a personal hell of being constantly dissolved.

I've got too much shit to fight for even Bat Mite to figure out a way of completely constraining my actions morally without setting up guaranteed failure.

I could have put that abusive asshole in the hospital for real. I could have, through sheer force of personality, dragged Faye to the shelter. Walked her through pressing charges. Set her up with a hotel room.

Poor Faye. The woman who'd been ground down so thoroughly that the only thing she knew anymore was how to endure. How to get through one more day, so she could get through one more day, so she could get through one more day.

And now she's ran out of days.

All it would have taken on my part would be to step in and be her everything. To take away her choices as thoroughly as her abusive husband ever did. And I don't want to be that guy, either. I've got too much shit to do to take the time it would take to rebuild someone.

But if I had, she'd still be alive.

Now all I can do is see that her husband gets his due. But I can't even do that, at least not personally. Gotham PD is just gonna have to do it's goddamn job.

I am not vengeance, and I don't want to fucking BE vengeance. I just want to help people.

But if I see Ennis Austin…








"Hey," Bat Mite prompts from beside me. "Sorry you're going through that. For what it's worth, every Bat-Man has had failures, even at the height of their career. And while I'm here if you want to talk about it later, I would like to point out that there's a fire starting over there," he said, pointing.

Shit!

It was only two blocks away in this residential neighborhood, and the orange glow of flames on the dark brick that made most of the buildings in the area was getting brighter.

I leapt to my feet and started roof hopping, giving Bat Mite a quick thanks as I did so.

And damn, was that fire growing fast. Flame had already burst a second floor window-

Wait.

No it didn't.

Observe told me that the window had been broken by a crowbar. And that the fire was also on the third floor. And the fourth. And the first, and the fifth. And…

Ah! This was arson. Someone had poured gasoline down a badly rusted, barely hanging on heater pipe running up an internal wall. The accelerant had dribbled out along the way, and been lit after it had time to spread. A few windows had been broken to give it plenty of air.

There the bastard is. I pulled out a compact camcorder I carried around, which had an excellent lens and zoom, and recorded a well-built man hurrying out a side door, carrying a crowbar. The man, who popped up as Earnest Olivine, Arsonist in Observe, got into a waiting sedan.

I got the plates on the sedan, and an okay partial side view of the driver, from above, on film.

James Carlevaro, Slumlord.

Thanks, Observe.

So at least I'd get to put the kibosh on their little insurance scam…

Screams interrupted me. Screams from inside the apartment building.

Are you fucking kidding me? They're burning the building with people still living in it? God damned evil pieces of-

I jumped off the roof and glided down, leaving the camera behind.

It's Gotham, I should have known.

I don't have the fancy lenses built into my mask yet, since the various vision modes are still in development, so I kept some goggles in a belt pouch. They didn't do anything but protect my eyes, but that's actually pretty useful, so I slipped them on as I kicked in the door and ran into the burning building. Also, unlike the usual Batman, who never covers his mouth, I had prepared a menpo style face mask that clipped to my belt. It covered everything my cowl and mask didn't, and, in addition to having a gas mask style filter, had a port where I could connect an air bottle. Since a lot of my gadgets were still in development, I actually had several tiny, eight minute air bottles in my belt pouches. There was room.

I didn't need the canned air yet, fortunately. I'll give this to the arsonist and the slumlord, not all of the building was occupied, and they did start the fire on the side with no people. Ten families lived in the building, across four of the floors. It was very much a slum, and I could see why the guy had decided to burn it.

That didn't make it any less of a murder attempt, though.

Especially in the middle of the goddamn night.

There weren't even any real fire alarms, or hoses, or fire extinguishers. The sum total of fire prevention was that each floor's hallway had a single house grade smoke alarm, which were obligingly beeping.

I banged on doors and yelled 'FIRE! GET OUT NOW!' as I sprinted through the halls. Once I hit every floor and every door on the way up, I started from the top and started kicking in doors, starting closest to the fire. I'd noticed an internal address chart in the lobby, which had a name beside apartment numbers, but I checked the ones that were supposed to be empty, too. I didn't want to miss a squatter or vagrant who'd set up in one of the empty rooms.

Door jams splintered under my boots and I Observed everything, looking for anything alive. Other than the sound of a cat scrabbling down the fire escape, the top floor was clear. Given the state of the building's actual roof, I could see why. The top was a write off even before it was set on fire.

The fourth floor had one guy living on it. As a guy who didn't wear pajamas, I felt for him. It sucks to be expected to get up and go outside in your boxers. He didn't really need my help, though.

It was the third floor where I ran into problems. It had two families, one older couple, one younger with a single child. The young couple had themselves sorted. The old couple didn't answer the door.

They had also installed extra locks. Like eight of the damned things. It took several long moments of flying kicks before the door disintegrated around me as I blew into the room.

Where the old guy shot me, because of course he did.

"There's a fire, dumbass!" I yelled, snatching the pistol away from him and chucking it across the apartment.

"I've called the police!" he yelled back. "You won't get away with robbing me this time!"

Observe told me he was lying, not that it mattered. He was also trying to put himself between me and the closed bedroom, which I could hear barking coming from, so I kicked it open. Immediately, an elderly mini schnauzer attacked my legs while an old woman shrieked.

I had three more floors to cover, so I might have been somewhat brusque as I grabbed her and slung her over one shoulder. She was less than helpfully screaming things ranging from RAPE to MURDER, with lots of begging for help from her husband.

For his part, her husband tried to brain me with a lamp, but got pulled short because the power cord was still plugged in, and he lost grip on it when I just grabbed his wifebeater shirt and dragged him out of the apartment. Fortunately, their little dog kept pace, nipping at my calves the whole time.

I had to carry them both all the way down the stairs and out into the street, where they continued to yell some frankly fairly rude things about me, despite the increasing smoke and small stream of other people going the same way. It was a relief to dump them outside and go back into the burning building.

Like, yes, I am dressed as a giant bat, I get that. It's not actually helpful here, if it is anywhere. But there is, in fact, a fire.

The second floor had largely sorted itself out, except for one guy who was trying to coax his pet cat into letting him pick it up so he could carry it out. He had a pet carrier, and between my cat proof gloves and incredible reflexes and agility, I got that sorted.

The first floor had more problems. Two separate apartments, both with elderly. One had a lone woman in a wheelchair, and she was both weak and trying to pack her stuff, mostly meds, but also toiletries and such. Three people from other apartments were trying to help her. Really, it was nice to see, and I understood the concern, because she had a lot of medicines and was worried about going without them while she was homeless.

But there WAS a fire.

The second apartment had an insensate old man, possibly with dementia, or just extremely weak. His wife was doing her best, but she was unable to handle it all herself, and unlike the old woman in the wheelchair, didn't have any friendly neighbors helping her out.

It took a bit to get everyone out.

During which time, the yelling old guy from the top had attempted to reenter the building twice, been stopped by his neighbors both times, and then proceeded to collapse with a heart attack. I started CPR on him.

If you've ever done CPR, you know that, during chest compression, the ribs often break, and that's even on young people.

It sounded like I was massaging a glowstick as I pressed on the old guy's chest over and over and over again.

It wouldn't beat on its own, so I had to keep doing it myself. Compressions, breath, compressions, breath, over and over. Just over and over.

The fire department got there and started fighting the blaze. One offered to take over on the old guy, well, actually, he just tried to take over, but I had it, and he needed to see to the others, at least until more firefighters or paramedics arrived.

So I kept doing CPR.

Cops showed up. In between breaths, I told them I had seen Earnest Olivine come out of the burning building with a crowbar, and get into a car being driven by James Carlevaro, the building owner. That I had video footage of them fleeing the arson.

I even used the word arson, and I talked loudly. Observe wasn't something that would hold up in court, but between video evidence of them leaving the burning building, and the suggestion effect I used on both the police and the residents, the two arsonist attempted murderers were going to have a bad time.

And still I did CPR. I did CPR with skill a veteran paramedic nurse would envy.

And that heart.

Would.

Not.

Fucking.

Beat.

It wasn't until the actual goddamn ambulance got there, well after the fire and police, that I allowed myself to step back and let the medics take over, hauling the poor old guy away in the van with a medic still doing CPR. His wife had passed out.

The people all murmured and occasionally cried out in shock when I zipped up the side of the building, then glided back down with the camcorder. It's shitty little LCD screen was primitive, but it indicated my claim of having seen the building owner and his thug was accurate.

A police captain on scene- and wasn't it a surprise that a captain had shown up, not just a lieutenant or sergeant- announced that that was good enough for him, and for some of his men to go pick the criminals up.

Of course, then he started asking questions about ME.

Who was I, why was I videotaping on top of buildings, why was I dressed in a funny costume, why why why.

"Because I'm Batman, and I fucking have to do this shit, I guess," was probably not the answer he expected or wanted.

But I had a bat-grapple and I could just disappear into the night to avoid awkward questions, or dealing with my problems.

That part is great, not going to lie. I see why all the other Batmen do this every time someone turns around.


xxxxxxxxx


AN: A one week delay. Not bad for having two strokes. Things are a lot better now. I've regained most of my head/face sensation and some in my arm and hand. Still having some serious issues with my hand and stomach, but given how much has already improved, there's good chances for things to keep improving.

In fact, the biggest issue now is that, at some point a couple weeks ago, the local DHS office lost some of my paperwork, and my renewal of medicaid and foodstamps, which has to be done every three months, didn't go through. I found out when they sent me a letter saying there was a problem. The letter turned out to be wrong. The problem wasn't a problem. But while talking to them, they found an actual problem. So technically, right now, I don't have medicaid, or food stamps. It's being worked out, but it'll be over a week before I find out how much of a problem it's going to be on the longer term. Money is kinda tight, I was expecting to be able to get some groceries this weekend. Frustrating.

And, unfortunately, my frustrations have leaked into my status updates, and a bit into my writing. Had someone drop their patreon support because my writing is 'bitter and cynical' now. I thought Ice Pie was nicely upbeat, actually, but I admit, SIBruce isn't enjoying being Batman. Now, it's important to show the problems, but I agree. Fanfiction is an escape, plenty of people are having a rough time right now. And also, it's bad for ME to dwell on the gloom.

So. Here you go. This chapter is literally the darkness before the dawn. Things get a lot better in the next chapter, which IS out on patreon, or I can send it to you manually if you want. Although your support is always appreciated, I'm not locking anything behind a paywall. I'm just not posting it publicly until I have the next chapter written.

Nugar | creating Original Fantasy and/or Scifi, and occasional fan proje | Patreon

You can also support me on Ko-Fi.

https://ko-fi.com/nugar
 
It really would be easy to get broody and introspective in this. That's why I'm definitely working on making it more upbeat from the next chapter on.
Yeah, I get that it needed to be said but I'm totally fine just assuming he's being regularly traumatized in the background unless it's directly relevant to something in future.
 
The MC killing only as a last resort like THE last resort seems okay to me. Batman choosing not to kill is probably for the best seeing as how he's not all there himself. Also I wonder what girls the MC will be with. I hope Zatanna, Koriand'r, Wonder Woman, and Super Girl and/or Power Girl.
 
Tbh, I kinda just skimmed most of the chapters.
 
is ther a diference between the qq and the sb version ?
 
AN: A one week delay. Not bad for having two strokes. Things are a lot better now. I've regained most of my head/face sensation and some in my arm and hand. Still having some serious issues with my hand and stomach, but given how much has already improved, there's good chances for things to keep improving.

Glad to hear you`er doing better, sorry to hear about the lost of a Patreon donator.

As for in-depth inspection; it makes sense that in this moment of failure he thinks about just how bad it can get, this is a low point and should be a reviewed for future reference to do better. If people are upset at the tonal change, then it might make sense to have dark introspective, but have Bat-mite act as a counter with his own commentary. (Might be good to get a discord going with people giving their own encouraging takes; as both inspiration and way of getting support in this trying time. Afterall, you should be enjoying this as much as people reading it.)

Might be fun to just do little mini-chapter with Bat-mite or Alfred talking with Bruce as he works, maybe do a universal hop and get training from a batman beyond Bruce to bump up his stats. Really, there`s no reason not to get more people talking to get some outside perspective to help get creative juices flowing. Don`t force yourself to write to a strict timeline when it is detrimental to your own enjoyment and ultimately your health at this time.

As for the sensation coming back; that`s great, it means you can start making jokes about it! Personally, I think if I ever wake up in the hospital, the first thing out of my mouth will be:" Right..., I`m not Japanese"
 
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It really would be easy to get broody and introspective in this. That's why I'm definitely working on making it more upbeat from the next chapter on.
Honestly, moments like this just make him a better character in the long run.

Because if he was just a Batman that succeded every time and who didn't understand what was at stake, emotionally speaking, he wouldnt be a proper Batman.
 

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