#another thing i don’t like seeing implications of batman / bruce being a mask & his other identity being his real self

[covertblizzard]

We definitely don’t talk enough about how absolutely unhinged pre-crisis Jason’s backstory is. It gets boiled down to oh “Dick Grayson’s replica/twin” which it ABSOLUTELY IS but there are some differences that have implications. The overall storyline is

Jason and his parents were trapeze artists of a circus in town. Dick Grayson’s mom and Jason’s mom (Trina Todd) were friends.

Bruce and Dick were trying to solve a Killer Croc case (the first one I think) and they were messing with the circus (again). Trina found out about Bruce and Dick being Batman and Robin, and seeing weird shit happening near the circus, she informs Dick who asks her to keep an eye out for trouble.

After a while, Dick worries about involving a civilian in a case like this and how this could be potentially dangerous. He tells this to Bruce. (Here’s the insane part.) Bruce, frustrated by the case and how it keeps evading him, yelled at Dick about basically how he doesn’t care and how if civilians cared more and did more (I can’t remember if the words civic duty were used but that’s definitely the implications), their jobs would be easier and there would be less problems. They yell at each other, and Dick does not tell Trina to not get involved *ominous music starts playing*

Trina and her boytoy husband Joe notices some suspicious people on a runaway car and they follow. Joe is slightly worried they’re in over their heads, and Trina is like “We’re trapeze artists, risk is what we do, don’t be a wimp.” (HARDCORE)

Unsurprisingly, Killer Croc finds out and murder them both, feeding them to crocodiles. Despite Bruce’s yellings, Trina IS exactly the type of civilian who goes above and beyond, and she (and her husband) died for it. Dick is devastated. Jason (dressed up in an old funky Robin suit) overhears (as opposed to being told about it gently I guess) and is also devastated.

Dick (understandably) feels really guilty about it and is (also understandably) very very angry. In his guilt, he also considers adopting Jason as he is recently legal and can apparently do that.

Bruce doesn’t seem to reflect much on his words at all (? unless I am remembering wrongly?)

It’s been a while since I’ve read this but the outline is definitely along these lines. I think the idea of civic duty is interesting and so far I haven’t seen Bruce express this view after the incident.

Another underrated thing: I mean Dick Grayson’s Robin run obviously produced a lot of the iconic villains like Joker, Riddler, Poison Ivy, Catwoman, etc. But Jason’s run also seem to have quite a few new well-known villain formed including Killer Croc and Black Mask. I wonder if there is a list of which villain formed during which Robin’s run (out of curiosity)

[gwynerso]

So, when I couldn’t sleep last night, I was thinking about Stephanie and Tim’s relationship and how incorrectly people who’ve not read the entirety of the Robin series (1993) tend to misinterpret generally, Stephanie, to paint it out to be a toxic relationship.

To be clear, there’s definitely some unhealthy dynamics to the relationship, especially at the beginning. But the blame for that doesn’t fall on one individual. They’re both also 14 or 15 years old when they get together, with complications of their own. I do like TimSteph. That being said...

Stephanie isn’t somebody who has any good representation of love in her life. Her father is a D list villain who, at one point, literally has her kidnapped to try and manipulate Batman. He let his best friend creep on his young, young daughter and didn’t do anything to protect her. She had to defend herself. He doesn’t appear to feel any particularly fatherly emotion, or arguably any specific love for anybody.

Crystal is more complicated- once she goes clean and Arthur is gone, she’s able to try and rebuild their relationship. But she is, for the large part, emotionally and sometimes physically absent from Stephanie’s life. She doesn’t look after her basic needs as a child, Steph has to fend for herself. She was used to her mother missing her gymnastics competitions, and likely would have had to engage in some of the basics of house keeping and caretaking for her own mother. Crystal was a victim of Arthur’s too. She also enabled him and let him back into the house and didn’t stand up for Steph or herself, even when Steph begged her too. Presumably, at some point, Crystal loved Arthur, but more than that, I think she’s afraid of him. And, like it or not, when you’re a child, you absorb that sort of thing.

Outside of her family, you see that her friends appear to be fairly superficial connections, and her previous romantic entanglements largely physical and centered around the needs and interests of the other individual. The man she trusted enough to be intimate with ditched her at the first sign of trouble, and didn’t consider or see any of the further reaching implications of her deciding to have a child and put her up for adoption. (There’s obviously lots of issues with how that story was framed and written, but choosing to carry a child for nine months is still something which has long reaching physical and emotional impact on you.)

And I don’t think Tim realized that consciously, nor did he deliberately use it, but he still unconsciously manipulated her into accepting a relationship with was unfairly balanced in his favor. And because Stephanie had never been treated with the reasonable respect in a relationship, and because she did care for him, and because he represented something she was desperately trying to achieve in a sense. Stephanie Brown doesn’t want to be a hero. She needs to be. She needs to be the part of the solution, because she knows if she’s not, people like her will keep on getting hurt for it,

Tim also, I think, wanted to have something that was, his own. I don’t mean that in a possessive manner, but his entire life is essentially dictated and structured by others. Jack expected a certain level of excellence and obedience from him which he almost always provided. He became Robin because he knew Bruce needed somebody by his side, and without Batman, Gotham does not stand. He has a hero complex, and is a people pleaser to a point, which is a deeply dangerous combination. And here comes this absolute wrecking ball of a human being. She’s loud, she’s undisciplined. She doesn’t do things by the book, because as far as she’s concerned, the book was written incorrectly. She’s seen, repeatedly, the failings of the system. But she’s good, and vibrant, and every time she gets knocked down or told no, she comes back. And Tim’s already so tired.

But for all her vibrancy, Stephanie Brown also alone, and I think he also relates to that. She also understands him the way none of the other people in his life- and despite the mask he wears, despite him only allowing her to know him as Robin, she sees his heart. And so they cling to one another.

[reddrobins]

of coffee cups + criminals - three [j.todd]

TW: language

ONE - TWO

Chapter three

Waking up whilst tied to a chair was not on [Y/N]’s to-do list. 

Groggily, she tried to look around the dimly lit space - though found it nearly impossible to open up her eyes. The front of her face felt hot and sore, a temporary reminder of the punch she had endured. 

Pushing through the searing pain, she opened her swollen eyes to the best of her ability. From what [Y/N] could make out, it was a large room - the ceiling nearly impossible to see. The space around her seemed to be crowded. Multiple different crates littered the area, some open - their covers tossed among the floor, others stacked atop each other. 

Based on the minimal sight of her surroundings, [Y/N]’s best guess at her location was a warehouse. Though, that didn't really help her narrow down exact places as Gotham was full of warehouses. 

Assuming that the Black Mask was smart enough to operate in secrecy, she knew that the warehouse wouldn't be one near Gotham Square. No, it must have been near the outskirts of town, maybe even close to Blüdhaven. 

“...my end of the deal.”

A voice sounded from the far right of the room, [Y/N]’s head snapping towards the sound. It was just light enough to make out a few figures, one animatedly talking.

“I told you, I always keep my word.” 

[Y/N] could easily tell who the baritone belonged to. Hell, it was the last thing she had heard, right before that fucker punched her in the face. Sionis grew closer, his conversation now clearer to her ears. Deciding it better to be found asleep, rather than face the criminal again, [Y/N] drooped her head, feigning a deep slumber.

“Not sure why you think she’s needed, didn't seem to know a lick about the Hood - but if this is all I gotta do to make sure he's taken care of… She's all yours.”

The small group was now mere feet in front of her, all the members oblivious to her eavesdropping. Risking it, she peaked open an eye in an attempt to count the pairs of feet.

One, Two, Three… 

On the fourth pair, her breath caught in her throat. 

She didn't believe it.

There was just no way.

And then in one quick sentence, Roman Sionis confirmed her fears.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. J.”

-

Seven hours, thirty-two minutes and 12 seconds since the last time he had heard from her.

Jason was officially starting to panic. After phoning, dare he say it, Batman, he had sent a signal to the rest of the family - putting his own hubris aside to get [Y/N] back safely.  Though, that was over 6 hours ago.

Dick and Damian had gone to Blüdhaven, expanding the search effort outside of Gotham. Meanwhile, Tim had been instructed to remain in the cave and access each and every public camera in the city in hopes to catch a glimpse of [Y/N]. Steph stayed too, wanting to be on guard just in case Tim found something. Cass and Duke briefly went out on recon, but came back empty handed. The only two that were actively on the scene were Jason and Bruce. The distant father and son duo had spent the waking morning on the roofs of Gotham. 

Currently, Batman stood with his back towards Jason - getting intel from Oracle through the cowl. It had been like this for a while now, Bruce would silently get filled in whilst leaving his son to wonder what Barbara had said. Jason had just about had enough, it was his search after all, no one would be involved if it weren't for him. They should be filling him in, not Bruce.

“You ever planning on filling me in, old man?” Jason finally spoke. He leaned against the rooftop ledge, angrily (and anxiously) drumming his gloved fingers against his leather coat.

Bruce grunted as a reply, acknowledging his son's question, but not bothering to turn around.

Jason, with years of practiced impatience, scoffed and tapped the side of his helmet, tuning into the comlink. “Oracle, do me a favour - quit talking to Bats and actually tell me what's going on.”

He almost cringed at the harshness in his tone. He had never had anything against Barbara, if anything he felt closer to her than anyone else in the family. Shared trauma tends to do that to a person. Nonetheless, the secrecy between her and Bruce was getting on his nerves. He knew the longer he was out of the loop, the longer it would take to find [Y/N] - and that was the opposite of what he wanted. 

“...Red Hood, I don't know if that's the best course of action right now. I think letting Batman handle this would-” Jason was quick to rebuttal, the notion of letting Bruce handle anything set him off.

“I’m sorry Babs - But last I checked I asked him for help, not the other way.” The name drop, Jason will admit, was immature. Though the line was secure, he knew better than to expose identities. Sighing, Jason apologized, “... Sorry Oracle, that was on me. I just… I just need to find [Y/N].”

It wasn't often that Jason shared his true feelings with the Batfamily, thus this admission of truth was a pleasant surprise to Barbara. The older woman then spoke through her link, “It's fine Hood.” She then turned her words to Bruce. “I- I think he's right Batman. It is his case… He deserves to know everything.” 

Maybe it was admiration for Barbara or maybe it was the swell of ‘I told you so’ to Bruce, but Jason, for the first time since [Y/N] had disappeared, felt hopeful. 

Bruce finally turned around to face his son, who in turn titled his head in earnest. “Oracle,” The older man voiced, “shut off the coms.” A click resounded inside the two mens headsets, signaling the radio silence.

“Before I disclose the information, I need a promise.” Though he donned the cape and cowl, Jason knew that this was not the caped crusader asking for a promise, but his father. As civil as he could be, Jason nodded for him to continue. “I need you to promise me that you won't go running into wherever, that you won't let your emotions get the best of you.” 

The former Robin wanted to scoff, but opted for rolling his eyes under his mask. Bruce was being ridiculous, “This isn't fucking Serejavo, alright?” He knew that he stuck a nerve, he could see a fraction of a flinch from his mentor. “I’m twenty-two, not fifteen - remember? Or do you have me confused with another one of your child soldiers?”

Uncomfortable silence ensued between the two, the seconds ticking by as Jason quietly wished for [Y/N] to be by his side, making this time spent with his adoptive father tolerable. 

Bruce’s response was monotonous, practiced as to not show emotion, “That's enough. We’re on a life or death search, this isn't time for a pity party.” 

‘Okay, Ouch.’ Thought Jason, ‘Thanks for rubbing salt in the wounds, really great work there B-man.’

Having had enough of this familial crap for the day (lifetime it felt like), Jason conceded, “Just get on with it.”

Heaving a sigh, Bruce took a small tablet out from under his cape. He handed it to Jason who quickly sifted through all of the information. It was chocked full of files, pictures, videos, fingerprints, fuck - blood samples. He perused more and more, going further into the database and then - 

Jason thought his heart stopped, again.

He felt as though all the air had been pulled from his lungs.

File 104 out of 305: a single strand of acid green hair paired next to an unknown fingerprint.

“Nightwing found it while crashing a drug trade.” Bruce stated, tone calm and collected.

At that, Jason's brows furrowed, “That's not usually his M.O. Drug trades were never his thing.”

‘No,’ A sick voice hissed in Jason's head, ‘Brutally beating a child to death is though!’

Batman nodded, “Correct. He didn't conduct it. The Black Mask did.” 

Roman Sionis, that fucking dweeb. 

Jason had had a personal vendetta against him ever since his successful take over of the Gotham underground. In the past, he wouldn't have paid a second of attention to that idiot, but once Falcone dipped, the crooks of Gotham were his for the taking. Sionis seemed to think that just any ‘Roman’ could replace ‘The Roman’. 

“What's this got to do with [Y/N]. I don't have time for an extra case, if you haven't realised, my girlfriend-”

Bruce was quick to interrupt before Jason continued one of his heated tangents, “We have reason to believe that he and Black Mask are working together.”

Jason stayed silent, for the first time actually wanting to hear what Bruce had to say. “That being said, rather, we believe Black Mask has hired…” The older Wayne looked at him head on, trying to gage his emotional response before he pressed on, “We think he has hired the Joker.”

It was involuntary, just an ingrained reaction for him to tense up at the mention of the Clown Prince of Crime. Maybe his constant thoughts of [Y/N] were clouding his detective skills, but he had yet to make a connection - or maybe he knew exactly where Bruce was going, but refused to even think of the implications.

“So what are you saying…”

The dark knight closed his eyes, composing himself before giving the final blow.

“I am saying, Black Mask has hired the Joker… to get rid of you.” Even with the mask on, Bruce could sense the indignance oozing from Jason, he held his hand up to silence him and continued, “You’ve been severely depleting the Black Masks profits - he’s losing grip of the crime world. He’s deemed you as the one thing stopping him from complete control, and he's desperate. So desperate that he's hired a maniac to do his bidding.” 

Taking another deep breath, Bruce let the information he had been keeping in, spill out, coating Jason in its toxic bearings. “The Joker knows you, as much as I hate it - he knows you better than any other criminal out there. He knows how to get to you. He knows your weaknesses. He knows your strengths, and he knows your allies. Even Jason Todd’s allies.”

And just like that, the small ounce of hope that Jason had felt earlier, diminished to nothing.

He would have taken being blown up again than this.

“Where is he?” Was all that Jason could muster. 

Bruce immediately shook his head, “No, Rob- Red Hood, I told you, you promised not to go in like-”

“Like last time?” Jason interjected.

Under the cowl, Bruce's face felt hot, unexpected embarrassment rising to his cheeks. “I didn't say that.” He grit out.

Jason finally let out the over do scoff, “But you meant it.” He then approached the larger man, leather gloved hand stretched out, “Now give me the fucking location.”

Though Jason was the closest to Bruce's build within the family, the older Wayne still had a height advantage on him. He stared down at his son, piercing eyes glaring at Jason to ‘stand down’.

Lifting a hand to press the comlink on, Jason spoke into the helmet mic, “Oracle, send me the Jokers coordinates.”

Before Bruce even got a chance to interrupt Barbara's channel, Jason had received the map, location locked in.

Jason backed away from the Bat, crossing over to the ledge once more, grappling gun at the ready.

“Jason!” 

Annoyed, he turned around to catch a glimpse at his mentor, expecting to be yelled at or lectured. Surprisingly, Bruce gave him a tight lipped nod, then - “Be safe.”

Not bothering to acknowledge his fathers - what he assumed to be - half assed façade of care, he swung to the next building, ready to get his girl back.

Bruce knew that two words wouldn't make up for all the hurt he's put Jason through, but it was the most he could do at this moment. He was afraid, he was worried, he was everything a father would be when their child throws themself into danger. Letting out a sigh of built up frustration, he linked up to Babs.

“Keep an eye on him, if it gets out of his control - I’m going in.” Oracle gave a hum of recognition, tuning in her cameras to Jason's helmet. 

“Keep him safe… please.”

[yurigoggles]

Joker [Movie]

  JOKER

Joker is not only the greatest origin movie I have ever seen, it is not only a villain origin movie, but it is also a great hero origin movie and thus by extension, it is also a great origin movie for the greatest antagonistic relationship in all of comic books!

For dear Readers who are scratching your heads wondering why this movie is here, it is no secret that I love comic books and CBM, I mean, I am only alive currently, right? In all seriousness, I do love comics, I think everyone grew up with some kind of comics. Yeah, sure I have more manga in my collection than DC/Vertigo/Titan comics but believe you me, I am a die hard fan of Batman and everything Batman! Well, not everything (see Batman/Catwoman relationship…bleh)

Which brings me to this movie JOKER. If someone is going to sit there and they are fans of Batman but don’t have this movie in their top movies of their CBM list, please don’t let me know because I will do everything to ignore you from now on!

Another point, JOKER is a true comic book movie! It is more movie than comic (like Batman v Superman, The Dark Knight) but that is more because the director (Mr Todd Phillips) actually gave a fuck about what they were doing and made a true to god film, based on a character from comic books!

There is no live action CB reality where this Joker can fit in except the original DCEU world. Hey, there is one point to add to my list as to why American beta critics hate this movie so much! Speaking of which, all this propaganda about the violence in this movie? Like WTF, you all need to watch more movies! If there was a list of violent movies, Joker doesn’t even make it in the top 20%! It is so tame all these loud mouths must be having their adult movie cherries popped or something! Seriously, like, it is even rated 16 here, that’s teen years like…

Any way, what a movie! It starts slow, and so blank that I gave up at one point looking for Easter Eggs because I surrendered to there being none. Big Mistake! If you have seen every Batman movie there is to see and you are a Batman fan, you are going to be grinning from ear to ear in that third act! It is not my character but I nearly stood up and fuckin hollered in the cinema at one point!

Speaking of hollering, this movie is actually pretty funny! Not in the *brunch* kind of funny but more like in the Snyder kind of funny! Yes, I am saying that you all fellow Cultists, this movie is basically for yous all! You have to go watch this movie if only to thank Mr Phillips for fighting the good fight! Hell, I shudder to think what kind of Batman this Bruce will grow up to be! Jesus!

Speaking of that, you can’t mention Joker without bringing up Batman! While I am lost as to what they did with the Batmobile that we saw on set of the movie, this movie had waaaay more Bruce than I was anticipating! And I don’t even mean to show off but when I watched the trailer and saw Arthur with that boy (the one he forced to smile), I fuckin knew it was Bruce Wayne! And yes, that was Bruce Wayne!

And yes, when I mentioned this was also a great hero origin movie, I was talking about Batman of course! Yes, they were killed, again, and I have to confess right here, I have always been lost as to why his parents got gunned down like so. All the previous reasons we got never quite clicked with me! There was always a vagueness about it! Also, I always had this urge to know why they were killed! I always had an inkling that maybe they weren’t such good people as they have always been made out to be! Billionaires like themselves in times like those, that money had to have been made on top of some skulls and I finally got that side of the story touched upon in this movie!

Perhaps it’s the saying that every person is a hero of their own story but scratch that, the world in this movie supported the theory that these Waynes were dicks! Bruce himself and even Alfred (I think that was him) were also proof that they were dicks! Bruce looked like what most movie rich kids look like, totally depressed and sad and lonely, something that always points to cold parents!

Speaking of the Waynes, there was this thread that ended up being left to the viewer to decide if it was true or not but at one point, it was made out to be that Arthur is actually Thomas Wayne’s son and that after some legal things went down, they decided to keep that life a secret! So his mother kept sending these letters to Thomas Wayne in order to get help in their hard times and one night Arthur opens one of the letters before it was sent out and finds out that he was an abandoned son.

I so fuckin wanted that to be true because can you imagine the implications of that when Bruce grows up to become Batman and has to fight Joker?!! But from the looks of things, I think they decided to go with it being a lie and Arthur’s mother being insane which I think is a complete waste! I mean it’s not like they were going to make a universe out of that so what if they were related? I could have read those fan fics so damn hard!

I still will, if there is some sane people that decide to do them!

And speaking of that, remember the Easter Eggs I was talking about? If you watch this movie and don’t get the connection with Batman v Superman, you failed! All I could think of was Wally Keith and his letters/checks from Bruce which were meant to help him while here Arthur’s mother kept sending letters to Thomas asking for help but either none got anything or the receiver kept rejecting them (MoSAnswers has the theory that Wally got the checks but kept sending them back)

Speaking of Easter Eggs, there are others, like Arthur’s name which we all know (A. Fleck as in Ben Afleck, get it?), then when Joker went on Robert De Niro’s Live TV and just before he was cut off, he almost said Ledger Joker’s line. Also when he was getting a ride on a police car afterwards, he looks like both Ledger and Let’s Jokers in cars! Heck, even the interview where he was asked if the chaos was his plan and he asked if he looked like a guy with a political agenda, almost like, yep, Joker asking Dent if he looked like a guy with a plan!

And then the McGuffin of all Easter eggs – The Death of the Waynes! Heck, that was no Easter Egg, that was the real shit! In fact that scene had two other BvS eggs, one being the Zorro movie showing, though I think it was coming soon in BvS? No, it was Now Showing and Excalibur was the one coming soon! Here though thehre was a twist. It wasn’t The Mask of Zorro but rather some title that went something like, Zorro; The Gay Something…I forgot the what the last word was. Believe you me, I want to watch that gay version of Zorro! And no, I am not making things up!

In fact the killing joke (heh couldn’t resist), I mean the last joke that made the Joker laugh was in fact the birth of The Batman! No idea how he would know or why he was 4th wall breaking but they made a point of showing Bruce standing over his parents’ bodies and to bring my point about the Waynes here back, he wasn’t crying over them like all the other interpretations. One can argue about it being shock of it all but I think there passed enough time for him to at least get on his knees and cry out in despair.

But he didn’t!

Hence why I am scared to think of what kind of Batman this Bruce would become! Just thinking about the Gotham he is going to grow up in…Jesus!

Which brings me to another thing, this movie is also the origin of the Gotham that we know, the Gotham that is a dumpster fire, the Gotham that will need a Batman unlike the one we have ever seen before, well, partially with BvS Batman after the Black Zero event! That Batman is the Batman that this Bruce will be since the moment he is born! But he will be necessary with the type of villains he will be dealing with if his Joker is this kind of Joker!

God, I love this movie! I love it so much it made it on this site! So forgive me dear Readers, I just can’t contain the love!

Best! Movie! Of! The! YEAR!

Ja

  JOKER [Movie]   JOKER Joker is not only the greatest origin movie I have ever seen, it is not only a villain origin movie, but it is also a great hero origin movie and thus by extension, it is also a great origin movie for the greatest antagonistic relationship in all of comic books!

[soriseerakyra]

Nice To Meet You -11-

AN: I’ve got to get better at putting these out in a timely fashion... anyway enjoy!

It was awkward riding in Bruce’s car. Aside from a rather platonic greeting he’d given you when he’d met you at the lobby, it been silence since you’d gotten in the car.  Peeking at the man from the corner of your eye, you see the same stern eyes you saw a week ago when you were at Camille’s house. It was strange to you how different they were from the slightly playful ones that he displayed whenever you usually met up.

 “I didn’t tell anyone,” you offer hoping that it would make him relax in some faction.

 He glances over at you quickly before returning his eyes to the road, “I know.”

 “Oh.”

 Its silent again for another moment.

 “I don’t plan to tell anyone,” you add.

 “I know.”

 “Good.”

 It’s one of the first awkward silences that you’ve had since you have been around the man, and you just aren’t sure what to say. You want to ask if he’s found out any information about Camille or any of your other missing co-workers, but mainly Camille. But is that off the table? You know his secret but does that mean it is okay to talk about it? Were you supposed to pretend that he was still just Bruce?

 “I can hear you thinking,” He says with a chuckle.

 “Sorry,” you shrug. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.”

 “Say what you want, ask what you want.”

 “Are they made out of rubber?”

 “What?” He asks turning to look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

 “You know, the,” you put your fingers on top of your head mimicking the pointed ears of his mask. “The thingies.”

 “No,” he blinks and returns his gaze to the road.

 “Why doesn’t Damian get ear thingies?”

 “He doesn’t need them.”

 “That seems unfair,” you say leaning back lightly. “Do you have to take medication?”

“For what?”

 “You know in case the arthritis kicks in and the old man joints lock up while you’re chasing bad guys.”

 “…Not for that specific reason no.”

 “Is the red mask guy with you?”

 “He’s,” Bruce pauses to try and find the right way to phrase it. “One of my sons, and more than a little angry with me.”

 “You must have messed up big time,” you say looking out the window as the car turned down into the familiar neighborhood.

 “I did,” He says gripping the steering wheel.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “…Thank you.”

 “Have,” you start, “Have you found anything about Camille or anyone?”

 He doesn’t answer but he shakes his head and you feel your heart clench in despair.

 “Do you think they’ll hurt her?”

 “I can’t say,” he says with a sigh. “We haven’t found any victims, so I can’t say what the pattern of behavior is.”

 “I see.”

 He turns down the street and your apartment building comes into view.

 “Do you hate me because I found out?”

 It’s so innocently asked Bruce can feel is eyes buck in surprise. He parks across the street.

 “You didn’t even call,” you say quietly, “It sounds selfish when I’m saying it out loud, but I really thought I was going to be alone in this.”

 Bruce looks at you rather somberly and he notes how much smaller you seem compared to the first time he met you. He sometimes forgets that ordinary people aren’t used to dealing with such stressful situations and how much of a toll that it can take on them physically and mentally.

His eyes fall on your hands that are resting in your lap and reaches out and grabs one of them and holds it gently in his larger one. His mind quickly toys with the intimate implications of the gesture as he rubs small circles on the back of your hand. Your eyes cut to meet his rather abruptly and you stare at him curiously.

 “I should have said something,” he offers. “Even if it wasn’t to talk about my other life, I should have checked on how you were feeling after your loss.”

 “Don’t call it a loss,” you mutter. “Not yet. I don’t want to think about her being gone.”

 “You don’t have to think of it like that. I’ll find her and the two of you can be together again and then everything will go back to normal.”

 “As normal as it can be I suppose,” you say with a shrug. “Especially when the guy I’m dating runs around in a giant bat costume.”

 “Yes, well there is that.”

 “Why a bat? Why not ‘Moth Man’ or ‘Pterodactyl Guy’”

 “Childhood Trauma,” he says.

 “Oh yeah, we all have those.”

 He catches your eyes looking warily at your building, “I’m not going to let you walk up alone, you know.”

 “Okay,” you say with a smile.

 After the both of you get out of the car and cross the street, you make the way up the stairs to your fifth-floor apartment. Bruce fallows closely behind and has to catch himself when you stop abruptly.

 “I didn’t order anything,” you muse out loud.

 When you move to stand directly in front of your welcome mat, he sees the small box laying gently in front of your door. Before he can caution against it, you reach down and take the box into your hand.

 “It doesn’t say who it’s from,” you say looking at him with furrowed eyebrows.

 Bruce stretches out his large hand and you carefully lay the small box onto his waiting palm. He holds it up to his ear. He can’t hear any strange noise coming from the box, and although it clearly has some weight to it, he can tell that whatever is in the box isn’t too big.

 “We should go inside,” he says after examining the outside of the box for a few seconds more.

 You hesitate to put your key in the lock for a moment, realizing he would be the first person besides Camille to come inside your apartment. You quickly push the nervousness from your mind and open the door.  There was no reason to think that Bruce was untrustworthy at this point, if anything he should be worried about you. You did figure out is secret identity after all.

 When the door is opened he quickly ushers you inside with a hand placed on the small of your back. You go and get a pair of scissor from the kitchen to open the box, but you return to the living room you see that he is already on the couch with the box opened in front of him.

 “What’s in it?” you question coming to sit next to him.

 “A radio,” he mumbles.

 “A radio?” You ask as you are able to get a full view of the contents. You see the small metallic device. “Camille got a radio in the mail.”

 “What?”

 “On the phone that day,” you start. “She had to put down the phone to answer the door for the delivery person. She said someone had sent her a radio. The red man said that there was a tracker inside.”

 Bruce always feels strange when a break comes in a case, and this time is no different. With the information, he’s just attained he can already feel a plan coming together in his mind, but he also realizes that if he had not come here with you today, that you could have been taken too. It’s very strange to feel relief when someone has been put in mortal danger.

 “You’re going to have to pack a bag,” he says lowly. “It’s not safe here anymore, they were going to try and come for you.”

 “Of course,” you say with a sigh. “I don’t have anywhere to go though, so I’ll have to find a hotel.”

 You continue to mutter to yourself as you stand up and walk to the back into what Bruce assumes to be your bedroom.

 He takes the opportunity to look out of the window down at the busy street as inconspicuously as he possibly can. He notes that your building seems to be heavy on foot traffic and light on security cameras. He imagines that, with your personality, that you actually like the amount of people walking constantly by, a quiet neighborhood may make you overly cautious of your surroundings. The downside is, it’s unlikely that anyone paid any attention to who delivered the package and when. Which opens the door to several different problems. If he were to take you to a hotel right now, would the people who were doing the kidnappings follow you? Were they watching right now? Keeping their eyes on the apartment, waiting for him to leave only to take you shortly after.

 Leaving you alone in a hotel doesn’t seem like the safest option, especially when he knows there is a possibility that no one would be able to reach you easily depending on where you found a room.

 “Hey, how much should I pack? Do you think it’ll take you long to catch these guys? What are you doing in my curtains?”

Bruce hadn’t noticed his fist clenched tightly around the rather sheer curtains nor had he noticed he’d began to tear holes in them.

 “They aren’t antiques are they?”

 “Why? Do they smell that bad?” You question.

 “No but now that you mention it, I am getting a little eau de mothball, so when you come home you should get that taken care of.”

 “Oh, so my life being put in danger has you telling better jokes, maybe I should find a murder cult, so you can become a standup comedian.”

 Bruce cracks a half smile, before he slips his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I can’t tell you how long this is going to take, pack as much as you can and if you need more I can bring you back here or buy you something.”

 You nod and turn to head back into your bedroom but are stop by the clearing of his throat.

 “Also, don’t worry about trying to find a hotel.”

 “Where am I supposed to stay, then?” You ask casting him a confused glance over your shoulder.

 “With me,” he says with a shrug.

 You blink at him for a minute. In normal circumstances perhaps you would have felt more apprehensive about even considering going to stay with a strange man, especially one that spends his nights running around one of the most dangerous cities in the country dressed as a bat, but you were in dire straits.

  He’d likely come to the conclusion, through his ‘professional experience’, that staying in a hotel probably wouldn’t have been safe. You were inclined to agree with that thought, there were many things that could be unsafe about hotels that didn’t include the occasional bed bug or two. One thing was, if someone had followed you to the hotel and you were on a top floor, how would you escape?

It only takes a minute and a few more thoughts like that running through your head for you to nod your head in acceptance. After all, if you aren’t safe in Batman’s house, where could you be safe?

 ***

“I feel like I’m just constantly too underdressed to be a part of your life,” you say as you walk inside Wayne manor and admire the high ceilings and various decorations.

 “Maybe just a little bit,” he says flashing you a charming smile.

 “So, what should I do with my stuff?”

 “I can take care of those, miss.”

 Your eyes flash in the direction of the voice to see an older gentlemen coming toward you. You had to keep a chuckle from escaping from your lips. Of course he had a butler and of course he’s English.

 “This is Alfred, he’s been with me for as long as I can remember,” Bruce introduces.

 You offer your name and your hand to shake, “It’s nice to meet you Alfred. I can take care of my bags myself though, if you just show me the way.”

 “Of Course, Miss.”

 Bruce grabs your wrist, “Alfred will get you anything you need and help you settle in. As you can imagine I have some work to do, so I may not see you until tomorrow.”

 “I understand, thanks for everything, Bruce.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

 You follow Alfred up the stairs and through the halls down to what you assumed was a guest room, slightly scolding yourself for not taking the man up on his offer to help you with your bags. It felt like the two duffel bags resting on your shoulders were stuffed to the hilt with bowling balls. But despite the weight, you would be happy that you brought some of your creature comforts to make sure that you were comfortable in such a strange place. Sore arms were better than being plagued with nightmares or having a panic attack.

 The butler stops in front of a rather unremarkable door and opens it.

 “I hope you find yourself comfortable here, miss. When dinner is ready I will come and get you.”

 “Thank you, Alfred,” you say with a smile.

 He gives you a rather guarded one back and leaves with a nod of his head.

 You walk into the room, flicking the lights on and closing the door behind you. Your eyes get slightly wide at the size of the room. You're almost certain that this is one of the smaller bedrooms in the house, but it's larger than your living room.

 Eager to rid yourself of the excess weight, you place your bags on the large bed, and find yourself sitting down on the plush surface enjoying the softness.

  You use your moment of relaxation to taken the design of the room. Dark wooden furniture, contrasted beautifully against the cream colored walls. There were a couple of paintings of historical figures that you couldn’t name, but they seemed to suit the room nicely. There is an armoire and a dresser. The dresser has a large television sitting on top of it, and your grateful for it. If you had to go downstairs and watch your trash television in front of people, you might not live it down.

 There is a door off to the left side of the room and based on its position, you assume that it leads to a bathroom. You’d explore it later when you got ready to take your shower.

 At the moment, you can feel yourself getting exhausted. Your usual after work routine rarely contained such excitement, and over the past week there wasn’t much that could get you out of bed other than your obligation to clock into work.

 You lie back on the bed and feel your eyes clothes and the sweet sting of tired eyes closing clued you in to how worn-out your body actually was.

 ‘Maybe a cat nap wouldn’t be so bad.’ You think to yourself.

 The longer that you lay there with your eyes closed the more you can feel yourself slipping into the darkness of sleep.

 “So, father has decided to take in another stray, has he.”

 The voice startles you and cause you to sit up on the bed in panic. Your eyes flash to the door and see the familiar form of a small boy standing at the door. ‘When did the door open?’

 “Damian,” you breathe in relief.

 Damian doesn’t seem to care that you are someone he knows, however. His small arms are crossed authoritatively over his chest. His green eyes regard you suspiciously. If you were younger and you were still in the phase where you believed that children were all demon spawn (a phase that had only ended a year ago and given way to slight indifference) you would have glared right back at him. However, you knew the boy was overly cautious for a reason.

 “It’s nice to see you again, Damian,” you say with a pleasant smile.

 He doesn’t acknowledge your greeting, “So you’ve managed to work your way into my fathers home. Perhaps your more clever than what I gave you credit for.”

 You eye the boy skeptically, “Hmm, it sounds like your implying something, Damian, that’s not nice.”

 “Nice?” He questions with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t have to be nice to a stranger.”

 “I agree with you, but we aren’t exactly strangers are we? At least acquaintances.”

 “Barely, that,” he spits.

 You note how deeply he’s glaring at you and its confusing, but you doubt that he would tell you why he’s so wary of you if you ask him.

 “You won’t have to worry for too long Damian, I should be out of your hair in no time.”

 “Not soon enough,” he mutters under his breath.

 It stings a little and you try to rationalize his disdain for you with the fact that he is a child dealing with hiding a tremendous secret and deal with the fact that there was a stranger in his home. But it still hurt, how you were supposed to approach someone who wanted nothing to do with you.

  If he was an adult and someone you wouldn’t have to interact with him and you wouldn’t care. Hell you might tell him to go ‘fuck himself’ but not only is he a child, he’s the child of the guy you like, and he is likely going to be crucial in finding Camille and the others.

 At the same time, he reminds you so much of yourself when you were younger, you can feel the guilt pooling in your belly.

 ‘Should I call my mom and ask her if I was an asshole?’

 “You aren’t bothering her, are you Damian?”

 The new voice causes you to snap your eyes back to the door. ‘I couldn’t hear his footsteps either’

 The young man that stands at the door before you almost makes you do a double take. He has the same thick black hair and blue eyes that Bruce does, and if it weren’t for the differences in his facial structure you would have probably thought that he was Bruce’s biological son.

 He flashes you a charming smile, “Sorry about him, he’s a little rough around the edges.”

 “I’d say its apart of his charm,” you say giving the younger boy a wink. You notice a slight red hue flare up on his cheeks as he glares at you.

 “Dick Grayson,” the young man introduces himself.

 You give him your name and a smile, “Nice to meet you, Dick.”

 “Anyway, Alfred wanted me to tell you dinner is ready so come down to eat.”

  ***

 Batman entered her apartment ten minutes ago. He’d carefully placed the radio down on the coffee table and turned the dial on and since then he’d been waiting in the window, looking for suspicious activity.

 It was strange, the music coming from the tiny radio. He had shuffled through the stations looking for some sort of hidden frequency and he couldn’t find any. However, the dial on the radio began to shift back to the original station if he left the radio alone for more than thirty seconds. It seemed the radio had a penchant for 50’s doo-wop tones.

 He tilted his head-in suspicion as a large white van pass slowly down the street with its bright lights on, but it simply seems to be a lost driver looking for the correct address.

 An hour goes buy and nothing seems to happen, other than the radio repeating the same five songs over and over again. It was almost hypnotic.

 ‘Like they are priming-’

 SQUEEEEEEEENNN

 It’s a loud screech that fills the room and Bruce can feel his ears ringing at the sound. His mind goes blank for a moment, and even as the sound stops he can’t will himself to shake off the haze that’s clouding his senses.

 Thirty seconds later he’s leaned against the wall catching his breath, and his sight is renewed. When he is able he makes his way toward the coffee table and hits the off switch on the radio, but that only causes the sound to start again, and this time at a higher frequency.

 He’s forced to drop to his knees this time, and there is a searing pain gathering at the back of his skull. He’s lost in such a daze that he can barely hear the sound of someone’s foot bearing itself down against the door of the apartment.

 The door swings open and a large hulking figure stomps in looking around the apartment for the woman that he was supposed to grab. What he finds instead is the Bat kneeling on the floor clutching at where his ears should be, in pain. He can’t help the sick grin the spreads across his face.

 “Uh-Oh you aren’t supposed to be here right now,” He teases.

 Large hands wrap themselves around Batman’s neck and he struggles against the weight bearing down on his chest, but the screeching in his ears made it extremely difficult to concentrate.

 “I’ve got to hand it to you Batman, most people are supposed to be out like a light long before the squealing starts, but you, you’re something else.”

 “And so am I!”

 In an instant, the weight is pushed off of Batman’s chest. He can hear the grunting and pounding of a fight occurring, but his mind isn’t in a place where he can see straight yet.

 He can hear the weight of the two figures smashing things through the apartment and he knows the entire room is going to be ruined when the two of them a through.

 The cracking of wood assaults his ears followed by the sound of a groan of surrender. Boots march through the house and the lights are turned on.

 He can make out the familiar brown jacket and red mask of his son, despite how blurry it is.

 “Just stay down there, old man,” he comments nonchalantly as he steps over Batman to get to the coffee table. “You’re about to pass out.”

 He doesn’t doubt it, majority of his body feels numb and heavy like he can’t control it. His vision starts to go black just as he hears Jason smash the radio against the table.

 “Just another one I beat you to,” Jason snarks.

 His comment is the last thing that Bruce hears before he completely passes out.

 When he wakes up, the sun is shining into the apartment, signaling that its morning. He sits up, body aching. He nearly lets out a groan of pain when he opens his eyes and it feels like lightning flashes through his skull.

 The apartment is a mess like he predicted. Her couch is flipped over, the door is hanging off of its hinges, and what’s worse is there is a large person shaped hole in one of the walls. He sighs in irritation at the sight and stands. When he does, a small piece of white paper starts to float to the ground. He catches it.

 ‘Next time wear Earmuffs-J’

 He balls the paper up in his hand and clicks his teeth in irritation.

 ‘Goddamn it’

[camsthisky]

Without a Mask

Anonymous asked: 132. ”I thought I lost you” dick and bruce!

Summary: In which Dick is kidnapped for the very first time and Bruce swears he's going to have a heart attack.

ao3 | ff.net

Nine-year-old Richard John Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne, heir to Wayne Enterprises, was being kidnapped.

Well, he was fairly sure that was what was happening. It was hard to see with a blindfold covering his eyes, but his shoulders were in an awkward position due to his hands being tied behind his back, there was a gag in his mouth, and there were unfamiliar voices muttering somewhere in front of him.

Okay, he was being kidnapped. He knew how this worked, for the most part since he’d been taken hostage a few times as Robin. But the question was, was he Robin or was he Dick Grayson, because the reasons for being taken would be very different.

He was jolted forward suddenly, and he let himself roll off whatever he was lying on and onto the floor, because Bruce had always said that it was better to pretend to be unconscious to gain info the kidnappers would never say in front of a conscious hostage.

“Shit,” someone said from almost right next to him, and then Dick was hauled back onto the soft—seats, probably. He was probably in the backseat of a car. “Joe, don’t slam on the breaks so hard. We don’t want the kid to wake up before we get back to base.”

“I knocked him out with enough drugs to keep him out for hours,” another voice called out, but this one sounded like it was coming from the front seat. “He ain’t waking up, Doug.”

“Get the kid downstairs,” said a third voice. “I’ll make the call.”

“Is this far enough away?” Doug—the first voice—asked.

“It has to be,” Joe said. “We ain’t got no matter gas left in the tank.”

There was a pause and then Dick was being moved. His head spun when he was lifted into a sitting position, but he managed to keep his limbs pliant and relaxed as one of the guys heaved him over his shoulder. He didn’t know where he was or who he was with, but he was in trouble, and he could only hope that Bruce would come for him soon.

“Jim?” Bruce called out to the Commissioner, trying not to look overly worried. It was pretty hard, though, when he hadn’t seen Dick in almost half an hour. The Commissioner turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Have you seen Dick?”

“Not since he started talking to that reporter,” the Commissioner said. He looked around the hotel ballroom, and Bruce looked with him.

The Police Ball had been a success. They’d managed to raise more funds for the GCPD than was expected. And then Bruce had written a check with the same amount that they’d raised, to be used to better the department.

The Ball was pretty much over at this point, and Bruce wanted to leave. The only problem was that he couldn’t find Dick.

“It’s been a little while,” Bruce said. “Can you have hotel security check the cameras.”

The Commissioner blinked. “I know you’re paranoid, but he’s nine, Bruce. Maybe he’s just hiding again.”

But Bruce shook his head. “I’ve checked all of his usual spots. He’s not here.”

The Commissioner’s eyes darkened with understanding. Dick was a smart kid, and even though things had changed overnight for him a few months ago, even though he was a circus kid with very little understanding of how high society worked, Dick got that he was Bruce Wayne’s kid now. He understood the implications of it, and he knew not to disappear during something like this.

“Did he run away?” The Commissioner asked in a low voice.

Bruce shook his head. “Unlikely. He’s been pretty cheerful all day since he though Barbara was going to be here.”

Which, unfortunately, she wasn’t. She was down with the flu, so Dick had mostly kept to Bruce’s side or hidden under his usual table in the corner.

“I’ll have the cameras checked,” Jim reassured, his face creased with worry. He laid a heavy hand on Bruce’s shoulder. It was the weighed down with the responsibilities of carrying for a child, and Bruce was glad for once that Jim could see past the act he put on for the socialites, for the city.

“So you’re awake,” the third voice said as soon as the blindfold came off.

They had tied Dick to a chair, but they’d taken the gag off as well, so Dick could now talk and see, and he scrunched his nose up at the sight of his kidnappers. The third voice from the car—it was the stupid reporter. The one who had wanted an interview for just a few minutes. The fake reporter smirked when he realized Dick had recognized him.

“Let’s make this call, yeah?” Fake Reporter said. He pulled out his phone, but glared at Dick as he unlocked. “You got Wayne’s number?”

Dick could only nod. He didn’t like this. This wasn’t like being Robin in any way, and he didn’t like the way they were looking at him. Like he was just a toy. As Robin, he was mostly seen as someone capable, and as a way to Batman more than anything. They never wanted to do anything but beat him up, so he could always seem to find the best way to escape.

Here and now, these guys wanted money. And if Dick escaped, would that put his identity as Robin in danger? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what to do, or whether to try and escape, and honestly, he just wanted Bruce to be here, whispering in his ear and telling him what to do.

“Wayne’s number,” Fake Reporter demanded. Dick told him, keeping his voice quiet. Fake Reporter punched it in and looked at him again. “If he asks for you, you don’t say anything funny, got it? You’re alive, you want to get out of here, blah, blah, blah. No info. Hear me?”

Dick nodded solemnly, and that’s when the other two guys—Joe and Doug, he didn’t know which was which—showed up again, a gun in one of their hands.

Dick forced himself to breathe. He needed to stay calm, right? Just pretend that he was Robin at the moment, just without the mask. Keep his kidnappers happy until he found an opportunity to escape or Bruce found him. He could do that.

He could. He just hoped that one of the two happened soon.

The cameras caught it all. The entire thing. And Bruce wonders just how everyone in this damn hotel had missed something so obvious.

The reporter, the one that had taken Dick aside not a half hour earlier, was behind it all, having his goons attack just outside the ballroom doors, drugging Dick unconscious and then heaving his body over his shoulder let a sack of rocks, and no one had given the three of them a second look. Not one person.

Bruce’s blood was boiling. Dick was nine-years-old, and even if he could probably escape these amateurs in a second’s notice with the skills Bruce had taught him, Bruce was feeling an urge to get out there and look for Dick himself.

“We’ve got a hit on those plates!” an officer called to the Commissioner. “Car’s parked in the parking lot of the hotel down the street. Probably didn’t think they had much time to stash him before we found out.”

Amateurs, Bruce thought again.

Jim, who was standing right next to Bruce as he glowered at the screen, turned to the officer and nodded. “Take Dempsey, Allen, and Huffaker with you. Get the hotel management to let you check the cameras.” The officer nodded, and Bruce turned to go with them. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Mr. Wayne, please stay here with me and a few officers. We’ll wait for the ransom call.”

Bruce kept his face carefully blank, nodding as he did so, but on the inside—on the inside he was burning. Dick had been taken before, but that was as Robin. Never before had Dick been targeted as Dick Grayson, ward of billionaire Bruce Wayne, and all Bruce wanted to do right now was rush home to the Cave, pull on the cowl, and save Dick himself.

And yet he couldn’t. He couldn’t do that.

That’s when Bruce’s phone buzzed. He blinked down at the screen, at the unknown number, and held it up to the Commissioner. Jim nodded and waved to another officer.

“Answer it,” Jim told him, and Bruce put it on speaker.

“Where’s Dick?” Bruce said at once. He was furious, and it was starting to leak into his voice. The careful outward control failing at the prospect of talking pointlessly with Dick’s kidnappers. “What did you do to him?!”

“So you noticed the brat was gone, huh?” a voice sneered. “Funny, I thought this call might surprise an idiot playboy like you, Mr. Wayne.”

“Where. Is. Dick?” Bruce ground out again.

“He’s here. But before I give him back, I want half a million dollars delivered to the warehouse on 6th and Washington. If it’s not there by eleven pm tomorrow, the kid gets it.”

“I want to speak to him,” Bruce said, when the Commissioner gestured vaguely at him. Jim and another officer were doing something at the computers—probably tracing the call. They needed more time. Well, they were lucky, because Bruce wasn’t going to let the kidnapper hang up without letting him speak to Dick. “Let me talk to Dick. I want to know he’s alive.”

“You’re on, kid,” the voice called.

And then Bruce heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Dick’s voice.

“Bruce?” Dick asked, and he sounded—not scared, but almost confused. Maybe slightly determined. “They said I’m not allowed to say much.”

“What can you say, kiddo?” Bruce asked.

“That I’m alive and kicking, and these guys are jerks,” Dick said glumly. And then he said something in Romani that Bruce almost didn’t catch.

Before Bruce could say anything back, there was a struggle on the other line, a string of curses, and then the first guy was shouting, “Damn it, kid! What did you say?!”

“I was just telling him to hurry and get me out of here!” came Dick’s voice, but it was slightly muffled by distance. That hadn’t been what Dick had said, but they hadn’t come up with codes for a situation like this, and Dick had just given him vital information. “You said I could! It just came out in—”

There was a shar slapping noise, and then, “You do not—agh! Half a million, Wayne! If it’s a single dollar short then—”

A gunshot rang out and Bruce’s blood ran cold. The call disconnected right after that. Bruce ended the call. And then he turned around and punched the wall. He punched the wall. His knuckles split immediately, but Bruce wasn’t done.

“That’s enough!” Jim called out from behind him, stopping him from throwing another punch. “Punching things won’t help Dick! What we need from you right now is to tell us what he said. That was Romani, right? What he spoke at the circus?”

Bruce deflated, and Jim released him, taking a step back. “Yeah. He said ‘basement’, ‘three men’, and ‘one gun’.”

Jim stared at him. “You’re sure.”

Bruce nodded. “He’s been teaching me some things.”

Blowing out a huge breath, Jim reached for his walkie talkie. “Talk to me, Dempsey.”

“We’ve got the kid,” Officer Dempsey on the other end, and Bruce was relieved, but it still felt like he was waiting for something. Until he had Dick where he could see him, he wasn’t going to let his guard down. “Guys left tracks everywhere. They weren’t smart about it.”

“Injuries?” Jim asked.

“A few scrapes and bruises,” Dempsey reported. “Otherwise, everyone’s okay.”

“The gunshot?”

“Huffaker shot the gun out of the guy’s hand. Mr. Wayne, we’re gonna bring your kid to you in a few minutes.”

Bruce could only close his eyes at the thought of Dick being here safe and sound, right next to him. God, if this was going to happen again, Bruce needed to get him a tracker as a civilian, too. He needed to make codes and plans and backup plans and backup plans to the backup plans.

But mostly, he just wanted Dick here, in his arms.

If he was being honest, Dick had been kind of scared.

Being kidnapped as Dick Grayson was a completely different experience than being kidnapped as Robin. The mask provided a sort of filter to dissociate from real life, to keep the vigilante part of his life separate from his own. But as Dick Grayson, he didn’t have the luxury of a filter. Everything had been so close to him, so real, and Dick hadn’t really known what to do other than give Bruce vital information.

And when Officer Dempsey had led him into the hotel ballroom where Jim and Bruce were waiting, Dick started crying. The moment he was in the room, he sprinted for Bruce, and Bruce kneeled down and scooped him up in one motion, lifting Dick under his arms. Dick wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck and buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder.

Bruce hushed him gently. “Hey, you’re okay, Dickie. I’ve got you now.”

“I was scared,” Dick sniffled quietly. “I didn’t know what was gonna happen.”

“Me either,” Bruce admitted. “I thought I lost you. Just for a second. I heard the gun go off and—”

Bruce cut off, and Dick squeezed him harder. “I’m okay, Bruce,” Dick whispered, his voice still thick with tears. “But I wanna go home.”

Bruce’s chuckle reverberated through Dick, and the fact that everything was okay, that Dick wasn’t in the kidnapper’s hands anymore finally crashed down on top of him. It was all Dick could do to keep his breathing steady as Bruce rubbed a comforting hand down his back.

“Don’t worry, Dick,” Bruce said, and it was in a tone of voice that made of Dick think of movie nights, and warm hugs, and everything good in the world. “We’re going home.”

Dick was here, safe, wrapped up in Bruce’s arms, and he didn’t want it any other way.

[docmorro]

I Watched A Movie

Joker 2019

I’ve finally given in to the mass media collective and watched one of the hottest, for better or worse movies of the year. Amid scathing comments about the directors’ thoughts on genre films to the thought pieces that the film poses a danger to the mental health of those that see it, I took the great personal risk and sat in a packed theater on the day we all celebrate some Italian genocidal maniac.

The movie was good. More than that the movie was beautiful, much more so than I ever thought that anything that came from “The Hangover Guy” could be, not taking into account that the first movie was a sprawling scope on a real live city, then forgetting the sequels because anything after 2016 seems like a blur of nonstop torment. Digressing, the director uses real life environments well and as a period piece it never didn’t feel as such.  From a technical aspect everything about it was amazing, the cinematography, the music, the actors, the decoration, and the period appropriate aspects of the world.

So what’s the deal with JOKER 2019? Why is it being heralded as both the worst movie and the Best movie?

“Joyless” I’ve heard some say.

“Classist”

“Nihilist”

I’ve heard all these comments as both cheers and jeers

Everyone is entitled to their opinion and because the internet exists you’ll get another.

I watched Joker 2019 in The AMC Magic Johnson Harlem 9 and the crowd applauded for two things during the sit in,

1.       The HARRIET trailer a promotion for a Harriet Tubman Biopic.

2.       The “The End “ title card at the end of “Joker”

In between those two things was the movie. A tale set in sometime by my cultural estimation the 1980s, that followed a downtrodden workaday fellow working on his mental faculties searching for a stable hand to help raise him up and for a shoulder for him to lean on and help him limp to some semblance of happiness and understanding, but that’s not what the ‘80s were about and the movie lets you know that, garbage strikes , civil unrest and closed down or sanitariums with stricter qualifications meant those with mental illnesses are out in the world to fend for themselves. And after a bout of street violence is put on to our “protagonist” an “ally” gives him a way to protect himself, the way all  only straight, white, males of the time knew how, with a gun.  He thinks it’s a joke, but that gun ruins his life and shows him the way in ways the system that dropped him like a sack of hot potatoes ever could. Therein lies the conflict of the film: A joker with a gun VS an uncaring system.

A tale as old as time itself.

It harkens back to tales once told around the fire of a young man with a dagger against the furious beasts that stalked him in the night. Maybe that’s why it resonates with us, the story isn’t dangerous but early mankind knew there were dangers that came out at night, that stalked you that was hungry, that knew you were good meat. Now, we don’t have those beasts in the night we have our way of life that’s hungry that, needs you more than you need it, that wants your meat of algorithmic 1s and 0s to keep it going to strike again the next night, and knowing that if you holdfast with your dagger or the modern parlance a gun you could bring the beast of capitalism down. Just like with the night beast the collective trip grabbed daggers and spears and defended themselves from the ferocious beast so to could the collective with the guns take down the great beast that is the system, but some people like living in fear of the beast knowing that in their home they are safe and it’s only the dummy walking around at night with his dagger that is in danger.

Maybe that’s why people are upset.

Or maybe it’s because it built on The Bat-Man mythos in a way they weren’t expecting. SPOILERS. Being “Joker” you would think that it would be about the beloved villain, but if you’ve watched the movie, you did not watch that characters story. This was a story of a loner that started a revolution that opened up the scab of a wounded city with a gun and a clown persona. Much like how the movie “V for vendetta” 2005 wasn’t about historical failed revolutionist Guy Fawkes, but sports his death mask all over it. It introduces a mythos of clowns to the batman mythos on a scale never before seen in a time in the batman mythos seldom explored. I personally applaud what the writers of this feature, Todd Phillips and Scott Silver have added, as I feel like it only expands and in no way detracts.

It expands in ways I enjoy, such as:

In 2016s Batman V Superman: Dawn Of Justice, Bruce Wayne/Batman has the line; “Maybe it's the Gotham City in me, we just have a bad history with freaks dressed like clowns.”

Now a petty line aimed at his perceived foe superman and regarding his greatest foe The Joker has so much more in world implications.

Another way is that it makes The Joker,  the to be villain, (not Joker 2019s titular character) somewhat of a hipster, clutching on to a movement that people have let fall behind in their minds, much like wearing jnco jeans or The Weather Underground.

In other words I liked the movie and I believe its just the bleak kick in the pants the cinemas need if all studios want to make is idealistic disneyfied comic book properties. Joker 2019 is in the line of Logan 2017 a dissatisfying feel and place with uneasy characters that you can care for; that I hope brings out conversations about our current societal implications and hopefully brings about change.