#rambles. ‍ ‍ talkin' ‍ to ‍ a ‍ madman!

[distorieds]

tag dump.

[racingtoaredlight]

Pray For Beaver Dam Butters

You see these stories all the time in the papers but you never think you’ll be the next retired blogger to have a deranged commenter seek you out in the void in order to threaten you with non-existent legal proceedings. Well my friends, it happened to me and now a man’s life could be in danger.

I was shaken from my life of non-blogging leisure a couple months ago with a nonsensical screed from old friend of the blog and general madman Paolo X. I won’t bore you with a full re-printing of the electronic ramblings of an unwell man but the gist of it was discontent over banned from commenting amid other grievances. My understanding is my former brothers in blog had been receiving these correspondences for some time and I somehow angered the gods into him finding my email address and adding another disinterested ear to his blathering about suing us or whatever the fuck, I had checked out by the end.

I considered blocking the email address but, as has become my custom since cheating death and cutting back on drink, I was high and ready to test my knowledge of maritime bird law. Turns out since my profile is still on the masthead as Blogger Emeritus I am just as liable as the rest of the RTARL scum and have thus been caught in these same cross hairs. But after a brief, impolite back and forth the thread went quiet and remained that way (I assumed he drowned after thinking he heard a mermaid’s siren song in the toilet and went in for a closer inspection). Unfortunately the cease fire ended yesterday morning.

The long and short of it is RTARL is somehow a racist and bigoted blog (seeing as how I mostly wrote about Chris Christie’s gunt and ABC family programming from the early-90s I don’t know how I fall into this but you’re judged by the cyber company you keep), and restitution is demanded. I haven’t yet asked the fellas if he’ll be satiated with RTARL merch or what this entails, I assume we’ll convene as a group closer to the trial date should that day arrive.

But look at my going on and on like an online nutjob, just like in the comics the hero and villain are a lot alike! Once again I was faced with a decision as to whether ignore the message, block the email address or engage the probably unkempt foe. I wasn’t high this time but I was work looking to do anything but work so I fired off a simple “Paolo I'm countersuing you for paternity, I can't raise our baby alone”. He didn’t care for this.

He expressed concern for what smoking marijuana is doing to my lungs amid other warnings. The end of the email however a creepy break from his usual Ally McBeal-level law talkin’. The two gentlemen below share a first and last name, the second line included an address and phone number.

I don’t want to read too much malice in what this was supposed to mean, just know that am the first (that’s right, look upon my Irish-ass name) but Paolo has Beaver Dam Shaun’s address so I did what any concerned citizen would do in a situation such as this and kindly asked him not to murder that guy. I received moderate assurance that this would not take place but when your brain malfunctions as often as Paolo’s it’s possible he will think I said I was not from Beaver Dam as a means to throw him off my scent.

Since we know this dipshit still reads the blog every day I’ll just again ask that you not do anything stupid with the Shaun I am not you fucking whack job.

[hysterialevi]

In the Smoke pt. 16 (Cobblebats)

From Bruce’s POV

THE NEXT MORNING

Waking up to the sound of birds chirping, I found myself bundled up in a tangle of blankets as I rubbed my eyes, blearily gazing around the dim room. It was only eight in the morning, and judging by the empty, cold spot next to me, Oz had taken his leave while I was asleep. I wasn’t surprised, exactly, but I had to admit that I was still a little disappointed.

And to be honest, Oz seemed a lot more...different...last night. I didn’t know if just dreamt the whole thing, or if it actually happened, but something about him was significantly more caring than usual. Like he was truly concerned for my safety. It wasn’t very often that I got to see his more human side, and the fact that he so openly showed it to me made me think something bad occurred. Well, whatever it was, I just hoped that Oz was all right. 

Dragging myself out of bed, I trudged over to the wardrobe and pulled out the first shirt I grabbed before sluggishly making my way downstairs, the sound of the TV quietly breaking the silence. It was a cold and crisp morning, and after getting some well-needed rest, I felt much better compared to yesterday, even though some minor symptoms of the drug lingered.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, I saw no sign of my father or Alfred--and actually--it looked rather empty in the manor at the moment. There was no light in the slim gap underneath the door to my father’s office, and I didn’t hear any other voices besides the ones coming from the TV. I guessed no one was home.

Well, maybe not no one.

Entering the living room, I found a man relaxing in the plush couch as he watched the TV, holding an all-too-familiar silver pistol in his hand.

“...Oz?” I called out. His head snapped towards me.

“Ah,” Oz stood up from his seat, placing the pistol on the coffee table, “g’morning, sleeping beauty.”

“You stayed.” I happily said, earning a somewhat bashful smile from him.

“Not for the whole night,” he quickly replied, almost like he didn’t want to admit that he was being kind for once. “I left for a second to see Lady Arkham after you fell asleep, but, uh...yeah. I came back. Didn’t want you to wake up alone, and all that.”

I looked around the manor. “What about my dad? And Alfred? They didn’t see you?”

He shrugged. “No one was here to see me when I returned. Though, I did overhear your dad talkin’ on the phone with someone before he left. Somethin’ to do with Falcone. Maybe they went to see him.”

I crossed my arms, scowling slightly. “He would, wouldn’t he? Even after telling me he wants to help this city.”

Oz solemnly brought his eyes to the family portrait. “And even after what happened with your mum, too.” He let out a sigh. “Some men never change, Bruce. No matter what. They just live out the rest of their lives as the same person, doing the same things, around the same people. Those men are dangerous.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. My father’s living proof of that. So are his ‘colleagues.”

Oz walked closer to me, holding my hand. “Well, they won’t be living proof for long. Lady Arkham’s told me that she has a new job for you. Something a lot bigger than what you did at the debate.”

I scoffed playfully. “You mean bigger than murdering Gotham’s mayor?”

Oz leaned in, grinning mischievously. “Better, too. You’re gonna help me take down Falcone. For good. I’ll give you the details later, back at HQ. Lady Arkham wants to discuss the plan personally with us. For now, let’s just enjoy the peace and quiet while we still can--”

As if on queue, the doorbell suddenly rang, causing Oz’s expression to flatten. I chuckled.

“You were saying?”

He gestured to a nearby hallway, starting to wander off. “I’ll be hiding there. You go on and greet your guest.”

Once Oz was completely out of sight, I hurried over to the front door, taking a second to straighten my shirt and wake up a bit before opening it, only to find the last person I wanted to see at the moment. 

Harvey.

Shit. I mentally groaned. Why now? Out of all times to visit, why now?

“Harvey?” I said out of surprise, putting on my best fake smile.

The mayor was out of his typical, formal attire today, and wore a casual sweater instead, holding a small, paper bag in his hand along with a cup of coffee in the other.

“Hey,” Harvey replied shyly, blushing. “I--I brought breakfast. Can I come in?”

I worriedly glanced over my shoulder at Oz’s hiding spot. 

“I, ah...don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Just for a minute,” he gently persisted. “I really need to talk to you. If you still want me to go, I’ll go. But I just have to get this out.”

I mindlessly bit my lip nervously, hesitantly letting Harvey inside. “...s-sure. Erm, thanks for the breakfast.”

“No problem,” Harvey placed the bag on the dining table. “It’s the least I could do for you.”

Purposely standing in front of the hallway Oz was hiding in, I tried to keep Harvey distracted.

“So um, what did you want to talk about?”

He exhaled tiredly. “Nothing too particular, actually. I’ve just been a bit...stressed out recently. Needed to see a friendly face, you know?” Harvey frowned a little. “I’ve also been a tad paranoid about...you.”

I quirked a brow. “Me?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of stupid, to be honest, but I guess I’m just worried that this,” Harvey gestured to his face, “might scare you off.”

I titled my head slightly, giving him an empathetic look. “I’m not gonna leave you because of one, little burn, Harv.”

He laughed softly. “It’s not really ‘little,’ but I still appreciate the thought--”

The man abruptly paused mid-sentence, his eyes gradually widening with every second as he stared behind me, frozen.

“Uh, Harvey?” I checked, dumbfounded. “You...you okay?”

He held out a shaky hand, pointing at the coffee table as I followed his line of sight. He was looking at Oz’s pistol.

“T-that gun,” Harvey breathed out. “I...I recognize it. I saw it at the debate. It belongs to Penguin!” He flicked his eyes back to me, bewildered. “Why do you have Penguin’s gun, Bruce? What is it doing here? Is he around!?”

Harvey’s more paranoid side jumped out again, just like when I spoke with him at City Hall, and he began pacing around the living room in fear, holding his head in his hands.

“No no no, no,” he rambled frantically, “not again, not again. Oh god, not again.”

I cautiously approached him, carefully laying a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Harvey, it’s all right,” I reassured. “You’re safe--”

“--Safe!?” He suddenly roared at me, his voice much lower and raspier than before. “I’m not an idiot, Wayne. Not like Harvey. I know Penguin’s here! And no one’s safe when he’s around! Where is that masked lunatic!? Tell me! I’ll rip him to shreds!”

“Harvey,” I repeated, “you need to calm--”

He violently snatched me by the collar, yanking me towards him until our faces were mere inches apart.

“TELL ME!”

“Hey!” Oz aggressively called out from the hallway, emerging from his hiding spot as he joined the scene. “Get your hands off him.”

Practically throwing me to the floor, Harvey averted all his attention to Oz as if I weren’t even there, smiling maniacally.

“Ah, and there he is,” Harvey began to prowl towards him. “Oswald. Cobblepot. The notorious Penguin. I should’ve known it was you. It all makes sense now. You’re going to suffer for everything you’ve done.”

Oz stood his ground. “You’d better get outta here, Dent,” he warned. “And fast.”

“Or what?” Harvey fired back. “Harvey won’t be pushed around anymore. No, he’s gonna make them pay! Everyone who thought they could hurt him and get away with it! Starting. With. You.”

I quickly got back on my feet, grabbing the bigger man by the arm in an attempt to restrain him.

“Harvey, don’t!”

Out of reflex, he carelessly swatted me away, slamming his fist directly into my face as blood trickled down my nose. That seemed to snap him out of it for a second.

“Bruce!” He apologetically exclaimed, digging his fingers into his hair. “I’m...I-I’m sorry.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snapped.

“Up until now, Harvey’s been weak,” he growled, falling back into insanity. “He’s been afraid.” Removing the prosthetic, he revealed the horrific burn behind it as Oz let out a gasp.

“Holy shit.” He whispered.

“This...this is the monster they all know that you are,” Harvey continued scolding himself as he circled around the room, stopping at the family portrait. “Embrace it!” He threw a punch at the painting, shattering the frame’s glass.

“No, no!” Harvey hissed, tearing himself away from the damage he’d just dealt as he turned to me and Oz. “Oh, god. This is what you wanted to see, isn’t it, huh? The freak!”

“Harvey...” I said sorrowfully, unsure of what else to do.

Before Oz or I could react however, Harvey had torn the portrait off the wall with an enraged shout and hurled it towards Oz, fortunately missing him but harming the frame even further.

“Jesus, Harvey!” I yelped, frightened at the vicious change in his personality. All traces of his original self had all but disappeared, and right now, it seemed like there was no breaking him out of this psychotic episode. He slipped out a coin from his pocket.

“Of course, gotta be fair about this,” Harvey snarled, twirling it between his fingers. “Can’t play favorites. They both deserve it. One way or another. How about we flip for it?”

I shook my head. “This isn’t funny!”

“No...” he ignored, “no...it really isn’t.” Tossing the coin into the air, a wicked smile came to his wretched face once he saw the result. 

“Bruce,” Harvey announced. “Looks like you’re first!”

Like an angry bull, he suddenly charged towards me with a ferocity I’d never seen, letting out a madman’s yell as I stayed paralyzed in place like a deer in headlights, unable to move.

Before Harvey could even touch me though, Oz had already thrown himself in front of the mayor and tackled him onto a nearby table, restraining him with a surprising amount of ease.

“Always getting in the middle of things...!” Harvey taunted, forcefully shoving Oz off as he returned his attention to me and prepared to attack.

Hastily grabbing the closest object, I held it defensively at him, backing away slowly.

“Stay the hell away from me!” I shouted. He closed the distance between us, his shadow towering over mine.

“The call’s already been made!”

Once again, Oz intervened and pulled Harvey backwards, only to receive a fist to the face. As a result, the mayor wagged his head as if he were trying to shake the voices out, coming back to reality for a moment.

“No...! I...I don’t want to hurt you...this isn’t...!” He wandered into the kitchen, resting his hands on a counter for a second as he eyeballed a steak knife, eventually picking it up.

“Harvey, put the knife down!” I exclaimed, but to no avail. He turned around, raising the weapon with a devilish grin. Oz protectively bolted in front of me.

“Bruce!”

Switching back to his other side, a pang of realization hit Harvey as he buried his face in his hands, staring at the knife with uncertainty until he flung it into a wall, almost tearing his own hair out.

“He’s gonna hurt someone!” Oz said to me. “You know we can take him out.” He glared at the mayor. “Have you lost your bloody mind!?”

Even though I knew it was a risky decision, I voted against fighting Harvey and attempted to take a more gentle approach, my heart thumping in my chest as I tried to bring his temper down.

“Harvey,” I looked him directly in the eye. “You need. To calm down!”

“What are you doing?” Oz blurted out.

Unfortunately, my attempt failed, and Harvey simply continued his rampage, staring at me with dagger eyes and clenching his fists. “No going back now.”

He threw a number of punches at me, his knuckles just barely missing my face as I stepped away from him, trying to avoid the attacks.

“C’mon, Harvey! That’s enough!”

Completely disregarding me, the mayor heavily lurched at me again, causing both me and Oz to leap out of the way as he collapsed onto the table, awkwardly splitting it in half under his weight. He didn’t get back up.

For a while, Oz and I just stood there in shock, gaping at the wreckage around us and at the man who caused it all, both of us at a loss for words while Harvey remained on the floor.

“Oh...god...” the mayor finally said, sniffling. He gazed up at me in desperation, tears flooding his eyes. “...please,” he begged. “I don’t wanna be alone, Bruce.” Harvey fell to my feet, sobbing uncontrollably. “Please, not with him...! I can’t...oh, god, I can’t listen to him!”

Exchanging looks with Oz, I tentatively knelt beside Harvey, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not alone. I’m right here. Okay?”

“I am. I am...I am...” He got up from the floor, heading for the front door in defeat. “My fault. All my fault.”

“Harvey, don’t.” I tried to block him, only to be pushed away.

“Bruce,” Oz said as the mayor skulked off, “I--I don’t think we can help him. Not on our own. He needs a professional.”

“He’s my friend, Oz. I won’t abandon him.”

Harvey opened the door, glancing back at me. “It’s okay, Bruce...I’ll go...I don’t deserve your help. Or your love.” 

His voice returned to a growl. “...Go off with your tail between your legs.” His eyes widened at the abrupt change. “I’m sorry...”, Harvey cried, “I’m so sorry.”

“Harvey!” I called after him, but he was already gone. 

Standing in the middle of the broken living room, my eyes fell to the floor in despondency as Oz caressed the side of my arm, wiping the blood from my face.

“You all right, Bruce?”

I gulped, afraid that if I uttered even one word, I would burst into tears. 

“I don’t wanna turn into that, Oz.” I whimpered, staring at my blue veins. “I don’t wanna become like that. But it’s gonna happen anyways, isn’t it? I’m gonna go crazy. I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Without saying a word, Oz pulled me into a tight embrace, never letting go.

“You’re a good man, Bruce. Good just like your mum was. And no matter how much the drug damages you, I won’t forget that. Your descent into madness may be inevitable, but we still have time to make things right before that happens.”

Looking up at Oz, my sorrow slowly grew into a hungry desire for vengeance, wanting to destroy everything my father had built over the years and everything he created, including that goddamned drug. It had harmed enough people already, including Esther, Harvey, and even myself. It was high time he got a taste of his own medicine, and I was more than happy to be the one to deliver it.

“Then let’s get to work,” I said. “Falcone won’t live to see the end of this week. Whether he’s ready or not.”