Urban Legend

[Bruce Wayne]

Urban legends are created by, and consequently feed, the human imagination. Whether they are true or false is never really known to anyone bar the person the myth itself stemmed from, yet they are powerful conjurings. They can instill fear or purpose, can keep people wide-eyed in their beds at night or even make some think twice before they put hand to action in less than desirable circumstances. This kind of presence, this rumor of a creature dressed in black who stalks the wrong-doers of Gotham city was exactly what the city had been craving. Unfortunately for the man behind the mask, most of the hypocritical citizens had eyes bigger than their bellies.

A solitary figure sat perched beside the upwards sloping pire of Gotham's premier bank, powerful haunches bunched as hungry eyes panned the cityscape. The lights from the surrounding high-rise needles pierced the consciousness of the city's latest outlaw, and he didn't need his bat-like sonar vision to see the scared looks on the faces of those who had no reason to fear him and the smug satisfaction on the face of those who did. It sickened him to know that this was what had become of him; this vision and ready embodiment of the sallow scum that coated Gotham. It was the way things had to be. For now.

The wind caught and ensnared the filmy edge of his cape, and the webbed looking material billowed behind him. Batman felt more than outcast, but no expression registered on his stony features; it never did once the mask was in place. Turning his head towards the sudden scream of a police siren thousands of feet below, the technology in the ears of his mask began to search for the radio frequency used by the city's police scanner. With his stern profile illuminated briefly against the cloud shrouded moon, Batman launched himself from the building's narrow outcrop and free fell, enjoying the rush of the wind as he thought for a moment he might very well plunge to his death. Against his better judgement his wings snapped open and he jerked into a coasting swoop, a hot updrft from the streets below carrying him to another rooftop.

Even though Gotham wasn't ready, he certainly was.

[elijahnott]

It was odd how people reacted when they found out you were different. Some found refuge in a look of pity, others outright told you how they had always known you were different, and then there were those whose reactions stay in your mind forever lingering for a depressing rainy Sunday. This was one of those reactions.

Sitting on the front step his head in his hands, was Elijah. The night had fallen around him and if it weren't for a flickering street light casting streams of light, no one would have noticed the boy. He was dressed in simple clothes, frayed black jacket,a shirt that was once nice, jeans and a pair of scuffed sneakers. No one would have thought any different of the boy if they passed by him on the street. Just another hooligan they would have thought as they bustled by.

He had been delievering a few parcels for his paper route manager when he had come upon a few men standing in a circle. Thinking nothing of it he tried to go around them. Bad idea. The men immediatley circled him and prodding and poking at him yelled a mix of insults and questions. Elijah waved his hands and tried to sign something to make them understand he just wanted to pass. Taking his wild gestures and lack of speech as something foul the men attacked punching him and kicking. They had only just begun when a police siren sounded from far away. Scattering like frightened deer they all ran away leaving the bleeding boy to rot in the street. After laying there for a few moments letting the pain run through him, Elijah sat up and inspected the damage wincing as he did so.

He was frightened alone and cold and felt like crying out. PLacing his head in his hands he bit his lip wishing with all his might that he could scream. Looking up out off his hands Elijah winced as he brushed against his nose. It was definately broken and blood dribbled down his chin and onto his collar. This had definately not been his night. Suddenly the sound of fabric rustling above him drew him out of his revengeful daydream. What the...? he thought walking out into the light to get a better look. What he saw next burned itself into his memory.

[Bruce Wayne]

The young man looked so forlorn, so broken that upon seeing him huddled on the street Batman was reminded of a small boy alone in an alley, suddenly orphaned a long time ago. Stopped mid-flight he ejected a miniature grappling hook that easily snaked around an obliging lamp post. The force of his previous action now combined with the tether of the line and he moved in a large swoop around the pole, landing eventually on his feet under its lonely light next to the boy whose upturned face struck a chord in Batman’s heart. The rivulets of blood that had streamed down his innocent face reminded Batman that he could not always protect Gotham’s citizens from their cruel fates.

He could not be everywhere.

For a long while he simply stood in the light, looking very much like some absurd, menacing creature descended from a spaceship or the like. The hot wind from the subway grate by the sidewalk gushed steam for a moment, blowing up the black leathery cape he wore and causing the metallic plates of his suit to sweat before the breeze cooled them once more. This kid needed the hospital, he needed medical attention. Batman was hardly a comfort in this hour, when his parents (if he had them) had failed him and his chips were down. Deciding that the least he could do was to ensure that his injuries were taken care of, Batman pressed a button on his utility belt before slowly stepping forward.

Holding out one arm in a calming gesture, Batman moved to kneel beside the kid. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he told him. Knowing the current popular opinion, the boy would spit in his eye – or pull a knife on him – before believing that statement. When the boy didn’t move, Batman leaned forward to take a better look at the damage. This kid had really taken a beating. Broken nose, to say the least. One of his eyes was so swollen it looked more like an oversized pockmark. His lip was split and Batman would have wagered an educated guess that his head was pounding like a jackhammer.

A familiar roar in the distance was reassuring. It had taken months to rebuild the Tumbler after the Joker’s near total destruction of it, but Lucius was a genius and with added improvements his method of transport was now more effective than ever. Knowing he still had a few moments before his vehicle arrived however, Batman decided to keep the kid conscious. “What happened to you?” he asked.

[elijahnott]

Elijah couldn't believe his eyes. Batman stood in the pool of light beside him like a demon of the night, waiting silently while the steam billowed around him. He looked positively frightening and feeling a pang of panic he wondered what the man could want. He backed up a bit when the man came forward, hoping he wasn't going to kill him or finish the job the men had started.

Elijah was greatly surprised when the man knelt by him and asked him if he was okay. Wasn't this man supposed to be a heartless killer? The one man who had snuffed out the light of Gotham? Thoughts swirled around in his head and added to the pounding symphony. Wincing and rubbing his temples he looked up at Batman trying to figure out a way to tell the masked man that he couldn't talk. Sighing, and wincing as the air came through his broken nose, Elijah fished around in his pockets for a bit of chalk. He had taken to carrying it since he had first lost his notepad. Kneeling down on the pavement he wrote on the sidewalk and when he was done pointed to it hoping the man would understand.

"I'm mute. I was delievering something when these guys starting wailing on me. I tried to tell them to buzz off but it didn't work too well."

[Bruce Wayne]

A mute. Because life in Gotham wasn’t harsh enough as it stood and because this kid clearly didn’t have enough problems to deal with already. Thankfully the sinister mask cloaked the concern that flooded Batman’s human face, and he immediately braced himself against the emotions that threatened to sweep him away in their tide. When he had been this age, Bruce Wayne had been living in a pampered mansion with his every whim catered to. Every whim, that was, except to be with his parents. With one gloved hand Batman leaned down and wiped the chalk from the concrete sidewalk, demolishing the evidence should anyone less deserving happen by.

“I see,” said the Bat, remaining on his haunches so that he was on the boy’s level and less of a threat. The kid definitely had a pair on him. Grown men ran from his sight, especially now that he had officially been declared a menace by the Gotham PD. As he considered this for a moment, something suddenly struck him. Either this kid was so downtrodden by society or in so much pain that he didn’t care what had happened to him anymore, or Batman had discovered something miraculous in this bleak ecoscape where souls were routinely crushed. The child knew he had nothing to fear because he was innocent. he was free from guilt, and thereby knew that Batman was not going to hurt him. He felt the darning of a small hole in the thread of his hope.

Before another word could be spoken between the two a deafening roar erupted at the end of the street. Within seconds the intimidating car that Batman employed in his night-time vigil of Gotham pulled up to the curve, idling with the agitated squall of a jungle cat. Batman stood as the doors to the vehicle opened themselves, holding a hand out to the boy confidently, to help him to his feet. “I’ll take you to the hospital. You will need medical assistance for your wounds.”

[elijahnott]

Elijah smiled at the masked man despite the throbbing pain in his head. It was odd to find anyone in this town willing to help him, seeing as he couldn't talk and was in the wrong part of town. Most people just sneered and walked away before Elijah could even scribble so much as a letter to them.
Yet here Batman was, helping him when half the city thought he was a killer. Elijah felt a hint of warmth as he realized the city might be wrong about the Bat.

Elijah had just been about to write something down on the sidewalk when a large roar filled the air. Startled he fell back and saw, with wide eyes, the world's biggest car...tank...tank car? Looking back up to the Bat he nodded meekly and got up off the ground. Making his way slowly to the tank car, his eyes traced over it's every feature. He had never been much of a car man but he knew that this vehicle would make most car buffs wet themselves. Maybe a few military operatives too.
Pointing to the car he gave Batman a thumbs up and smiled.
"Cool car."

[Bruce Wayne]

A derisive snort of air from his nose burst through Batman’s resolve before he could smother it. The kid had a good personality, that much was obvious by the way he was able to readily accept help from an unlikely source. With a strong hand at the boy’s elbow, Batman helped him into the vehicle with a gruff “Thanks,” as he pulled the door down. The hydraulics hissed as the heavy metal slowly moved back to their original position and clicked into place. A few powerful strides through the beaming headlights and the caped crusader was in the car, his own door hissing into place as he flipped various switches. Eventually he took the fluted steering wheel and released the brakes. The car lurched forward at a frightening speed, the streetlights a blurred penance that would never settle across Batman’s shoulders.

“Buckle up,” he murmured, turning a corner and then another as he made his way to the well-known Gotham General. A few minutes passed in silence. Then, “Where are your parents?”

(Apologies for the delay.)

[elijahnott]

Elijah had barely even buckled his seat belt when the large tankcar lurched forward like a bullet shot out of a gun. Feeling like he was in a spaceshuttle Elijah glanced out the windows and watched as the street lights whizzed by with dizzying speed. The sudden growl of the masked man's voice brought Elijah out of his blank state of shock. Turning to him he listened and then frowned.

His parents were out on the town, like they had been for the past few nights, for one of his father's banking parties. This one had been big and his father had talked all day about how Wayne Corp was going to expand the bank. Elijah sighed and winced as the air passed through his broken nose for the second time that night. He couldn't have one peaceful night to himself could he? Digging through his jacket he pulled out a reciept and a dented pencil. It barely had enough lead to write with but it would work for now.
"My parents are at some Wayne Corp party. My dad works for a bank and apparently it's expanding. I don't know to much though I sort of tune out when he starts talking about his work."

((It's ok))

[Bruce Wayne]

Being careful to watch the road and to also read the kid’s note, Batman felt a mixture of anger and nausea when he read that his parents were at a Wayne Corporation function. They had abandoned their disabled child in order to hob-knob at one of ‘his’ supposed events? He turned the car again, his grip on the steering wheel to savage that the leather covering the device squeaked in protest. “I see,” was all the answer that he offered for the time being. The pair drove in silence for the next few miles; Batman because he didn’t know what to say and the kid no doubt because he couldn’t say anything even i he’d wanted to. Batman wondered what had caused the young man to abandon his power of speech; it would have had to have been something powerfully traumatic. Another reason to be mad at his absent parents.

“What is your name?” he asked in a softer tone.