Tag: Batman (Page 1 of 5)

CHAPTER 42

“Nothing happened, and nothing kept happening.”

Chuck Palahniuk • Haunted

Civil Twilight

“Commissioner, there have been eleven high-profile mob hits in the last three weeks. Three of these assassinations have happened since the reinstatement of the curfew, and the people of Gotham have heard nothing from the police – do you have anything to say?”

Johnny Gelio, commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department looked at the reporter, Vicki Vale, and did a poor job of disguising his scowl.

Where is the Gazette? Johnny wondered, but he moistened his lips with his tongue and gave her the soundbite she wanted:

“I have a lot to say, Miss Vale. But my department is understaffed to the tune of four hundred officers. Underfunding has left a brave but depleted workforce on the brink of not having enough police to fulfill the mission of public safety.

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ORIGIN STORIES: THE GARDEN STATE

CONTENT WARNING

domestic abuse • eugenics


1928

Lilian Rose, brilliant chemist, botanist, and scientist, and the director of business operations (a stupid title that her father granted her; she was, for all practical purposes, the CEO of Rose Botanichemical!) never knew exactly how to deal with Harriet, and the little annoyance would be back here in just a couple of days.

It was bad enough when her father foisted the girl onto her, asking if she could tag along when Lily quite obviously had plans. It was worse when Lily thought about how Harriet was certainly old enough to have made friends of her own. Why was she even coming to live in Gotham? Why wasn’t father just going to Oxford?

Lily didn’t need to have a relationship with Harriet.

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CHAPTER 41

CONTENT WARNING

This chapter contains attempted sexual violence

GOD
Welcome to Heaven, Franz.
My name is God.
I think you're going to like it here.

CHOIR
He is Franz Kafka!
Home movies • S01E06 “Director’s Cut”

Metamorphosis

“He looks like he could use some sun,” Detective Selina Kyle said to Lieutenant James Gordon (her partner, and the acting commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department), “but he insists he feels like a hundred grand.”

Gordon drummed his desk with his fingers. 

“Any word from Karlo?”

“Nothing yet,” she responded, hesitating. “–Not about any permanent changes to the staff. But he did put in a word with Stone about fast tracking Brickhouse’s parole hearing.” Selina dropped a half inch thick sheaf of papers onto Jim’s desk with a thunk. “These are character affidavits from churchgoers, neighbors, and former co-workers. The cherries on top are Wayne and Pennyworth.”

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CHAPTER 40

As far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangster.
To me being a gangster was better than being president of the United States.
Even before I first wandered into the cabstand for an after-school job I knew I wanted to be a part of them. It was there that I knew I belonged.
To me, it meant being somebody in a neighborhood full of nobodies. They weren’t like anybody else. They did whatever they wanted.

Henry hill • goodfellas

THE DEVIL YOU DON’T

Rose Botanichemical’s cosmetics division was staffed by overqualified chemists. In a just world, they would be developing pharmaceuticals full-time, but as it stood, their research and development was primarily centered around extracting and synthesizing research chemicals.

Dr. Harriet Isley had provided the tour of the new facilities, which included training facilities, an infirmary, a laboratory greenhouse, on-site office space, a warehouse (“It’s just for storage, and unfortunately, I don’t seem to have the key!”) and a new distillery. 

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CHAPTER 39

…there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the note orchestra were constrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to harken to the sound and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions; and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale…

Edgar allan poe • the masque of the red death

Masquerade

“Mister Saturn will be making ‘appearances’ in areas of the city that will be very visible this weekend,” said Alfred Pennyworth, pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to Bruce Wayne. “As for you, Mister Bruce, you’ll need to be making high profile appearances of your own. Establish and re-establish the alibi.” 

The air in the cave was cooler than outside, but equally damp. April’s rain was relentless and unpredictable. 

“Gelio’s not going to stop. If he hasn’t figured it out, Gordon has. And that doesn’t even account for Saturn setting the bar a lot higher than we can maintain,” Bruce said. The coffee was overextracted and bitter, and he took another sip.

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CHAPTER 38

“I paid Houdini three hundred dollars for that trick.

Batman • Gotham by gaslight

Gotham By Gaslight

A ruptured spleen, a torn trapezius and a hairline fracture on his clavicle. If the man in the coffin mask had been a better shot either time, Johnny Gelio, commissioner of the Gotham City Police would’ve died. Not that the internal hemorrhaging didn’t give everyone pause.

Lex Luthor thought that the crime in Gotham City stood a very real risk of migrating across the bridge. Especially with Superman’s recent fracture. He folded the newspaper, bristling that one of his editors prematurely reported Gelio dead. Mercy had seen to it that the man was fired, but it was an annoyance to know that there were gaps in some of his most powerful tools of influence.

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CHAPTER 37

So, cast off the shackles of yesterday!
Shoulder to shoulder into the fray!
Our daughters’ daughters will adore us
And they’ll sing in grateful chorus
“Well done! Well done!
“Well done Sister Suffragette!

Sister suffragette • mary poppins

Home Freakonomics

“Yiannis!” Lily nearly shouted at the Gotham City Police Commissioner, who was sitting across the table from her at their favorite table at The Emperor, a jazz club owned by Gotham’s most famous restaurateur, Oswald Cobblepot. 

Johnny Gelio’s stupor faded in an instant, and his eyes focused on the beauty who looked as though she were annoyed and worried in equal measure.

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CHAPTER 36

“An attempt to create a new conceptual terrain for imagining alternatives to imprisonment involves the ideological work of questioning why “criminals” have been constituted as a class and, indeed, a class of human beings undeserving of the civil and human rights accorded to others. Radical criminologists have long pointed out that the category “lawbreakers” is far greater than the category of individuals who are deemed criminals since, many point out, almost all of us have broken the law at one time or another.”

Angela Y. Davis • Are Prisons Obsolete?

A Serious House on a Serious Earth

The Arkham Psychiatric Hospital was once a labyrinthine manse that would make all but the largest mansions in Silverwood Barrens look provincial by comparison. It was converted to a “State Lunatic Asylum” at the direction and expense of its heir, Amadeus Arkham as the first fires of the industrial revolution were kindled. 

After Amadeus’ death, Arkham had languished as a barbaric house of catastrophically unethical experimentation until it was acquired by an pharmaceutical baron, Dr. Tanner Howinger, in whose white gloved hands it became feared as a fate more terrifying than any prison, housing more than 140 residents before arson granted reprieve to the patients and justice to Howinger in 1913.

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CHAPTER 35

“Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?”

Douglas Adams • The Hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy

The Garden Gnome

Johnny Gelio, commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department glanced at his watch after pulling up one of his dark socks. 

4:13 a.m. 

He let out a soft sigh as he pulled his shirt over his unclothed torso. He was showered and shaved, but if they were going to keep seeing each other like this, then he would need to leave a toothbrush and a tin of mum in Lil’s bathroom. 

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ORIGIN STORIES: رأس الغول

How did I get here? How long have we been marching? The ground is firm, like midwinter on half of my steps; the other half my boot sinks into marshy grass, though it hasn’t rained in days. Mud created from the still-warm blood of fallen soldiers? I can’t think about it, I keep moving, ever northward.

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