THE TOMORROW KNIGHT

“You know, they’ve actually addressed this in the movies once? I think they’re just avenging the Earth in general if it can’t be saved. I don’t know though. You could always ask them. They’re like, over there somewhere.” Your hand waves a bit, gesturing at a vague direction. “And yeah, comic books. Movies. The works.”

“Nope, not a single caped hero unfortunately. Unless you count Halloween costumes. But other than that, our heroes are just your everyday people: firefighters, the police, nurses even, etcetera.” You stop and suck in a breath sharply, “Wow, you live in the same world as The Justice League? That’s really, really cool.” Another pause, “And you’ve seen mutated dogs? That sounds like there’s a story behind that. What happened? Accidental toxic waste dump? Oh, uh, if, you know, it’s not an intrusive question to ask…”

        ❝ The... movies? ❞ The more the younger boy talked, the more confused Terry became. His suggestion of asking the ‘Avengers’ or whoever they were was noted, but it took a lower priority to what Terry thought the other was trying to say. ❝ So... you’re telling me... heroes only exist in comic books and movies where you’re from? That the... The Justice League only exists in them? ❞ Something like denial settled over Terry like a blanket, a total rejection of what the kid was saying. Because, if that was true, what did that mean for him?

“Well, I don’t think I’ve heard of The Justice League running their own place here, but there is a Hive Avengers. Um,” You pause again and make a contemplative noise, “I’m sure the firefighters and police try their best. I don’t really hang around Sector 006 enough to see the action though, so I can’t tell you much about that.”  You regard him with a curious expression at the mention of his home, “Oh, yeah? That sounds pretty nice. I came from a world where that only existed in comic books and stuff…And, yeah, I’m planning on it! I really don’t want to start getting radiation poisoning, plus, Oz-sensei gave me a dog and I’m not about to let them get mutated from toxic waste. Nope.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a hazard but surprisingly, the city gets back on its feet pretty quickly. And no one really leaves it like that, it’s just kind of a norm that fires occur frequently.” You pause and then raise your eyebrows slightly, “This whole city is dangerous, dude. I mean, I have yet to move out of my place in Sector 002 and it’s near a nuclear power-plant. Toxic stuff. I really need to leave though before I start growing like, a second head or something.”

“I’ve been here for like, more than six months, and I’ve learned to stop questioning why Sector 006 is on fire. People say it’s always on fire, so. I mean, what are you going to do, you know? It’s pretty worrisome, but, the city just works in weird mysterious ways. ”

“From what I can tell, pretty much. This whole place is just a giant ball of absurdity. I have a hard time figuring out if everyone here is still sane or not.”

why so serious

“At least you weren’t here for when the whole city was on fire. But, Sector 006 is always on fire, so…” You shrug.

             Although it was true that Terry was, technically, a member of the Justice League, it was also true that he’d had limited exposure to its past members. It was notably difficult to get information out of Bruce even at the best of times, and much of the time he’d spent as Batman was still a mystery to Terry. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t know who they were, or who they’d been. The Batcomputer had extensive files on the Justice League, current and former, and Terry had spent many an hour going over them as Ace snoozed beside him. And it was for that particular reason that, when the other hero made her appearance, he recognized her. Her outfit, blue and spangled with stars, was distinctive, as well as the belt that circled her waist. Stargirl was her hero name, Terry remembered, although... last he’d checked, she’d been active nearly half a century ago. And unless she used the best skin care products known to man, she looked even younger than Terry himself.

        He waited until she’d knocked out the mugger, spoken a few words to his intended victim, and then let the woman go on her way before revealing himself, stepping out of the shadows of the alley with crossed arms.

Nighttime finds the devil perched upon a rooftop. It’s become a nightly occurrence, wherein he tries to stretch the new limits of his hyper senses, straining to experience the world as fully as he did only a month or so ago. Everything seems muffled, as if he’s trapped underwater. How strange it is to think that while he once submerged himself to dull his senses, he finds himself now struggling to break the surface, aching for the familiar onslaught of  sensation.

Years of training and experience have taught him to single out certain sounds that mean trouble——one is the heavy  THUD  of footsteps on a rooftop nearby. They stop quickly, accompanied by the sound of something ( or perhaps someone ) hitting cement. Matt listens closely as he approaches, putting years of stealth training to use as he lands almost soundlessly atop the roof. Radar tells him it is a person, nearly six feet tall, who lies on the ground nearby. Their breath is somewhat ragged, perhaps from the strain of making their way up here… or from something a bit less orthodox, as the evidence implies.

There is little amusement in his face when Matt leans over the body at his feet and whispers,

“Boo.”

             For a moment, Terry sat there, head back and eyes closed, allowing himself a moment of peace as he let the city sounds wash over him. It was true they were similar to Neo-Gotham’s endless cacophony, but they were different as well. The steady hum of hover cars was absent, as well as the whistling of wind slipping around the towering buildings. Here, the chorus seemed more primitive, simple, a degraded version of Neo-Gotham’s sleek grittiness. But, still. The familiar sounds he could pick out soothed him, and he let out a deep breath as he attempted to relax.

        That is, until a soft voice whispered from directly above him. Terry’s eyes snapped open, and he didn’t even have time to register who had spoken before he jerked upright. A terrible mistake, as it would seem, as his forehead hit something solid and warm with an audible crack! Pain bloomed like a flower from the point of impact, and a hand came up to hold his head even as instinct took over and Terry rolled away to the side. He came up in a crouch, batarang already in his free hand, ready to fight... although the steady throb of his head made him less inclined to do so than he might have otherwise been.

“I don’t think the wooden boomerangs are child friendly either, are they?” He states, trying to stay calm in the given situation, any movement could inflict harm onto his body, the last thing he wanted in the given situation.

“You can check it yourself. Its a duel disk”

             The retort was quick and pointed, and it bought the kid just a little respect from Terry. Still, it wasn’t going to stop him from going along the same line of questioning he’d started on. ❝ These aren’t for kids. And they’re called batarangs, not boomerangs. ❞

Whatever had hit her mech she could only assume that had originally been meant for her instead. And forward the culprit steps not too long after, a weird guy in a black suit. Hana looks down at him, eyebrows raised at his clearly nervous expression. She looks down at the weird wooden toy that had been thrown, it’s weirdly shaped and she can’t quite make heads or tails on what it’s supposed to be, so she figures that it’d probably be much better to ask this fool rather than keep quiet and look menacing. “What did you just try to hit me with?” she says, looking down at him still from her giant metal contraption. Then she figures once again that it’d probably be better to get out of this thing and talk because if he’d wanted to harm her, he could’ve done it a long time ago.

Luckily for her, her time was up and so the mech simply vanishes and she is promptly dropped onto her feet in front of him. “So, what were you trying to do exactly?” Repeating her above question, though worded differently. “And just who exactly are you supposed to be? A hero or something? You’re doing a pretty lousy job at it, if so.” Considering he can’t even handle his weapons efficiently.

             For a moment, Terry thought the thing was a GoLeM. But, no. Willie Watt’s GoLeM had been destroyed, torn to pieces and sent to a scrap yard. The pieces had eventually found their way into Morgan Bifford’s toy robot, true, but only as fragments, never as a fully-formed figure. So the sight of what seemed to be one now made him blink... until the realization dawned on him that there was someone inside of it. She glowered down at him, and the illusion was shattered. It was clear now that whatever this thing was, it wasn’t a GoLeM. The color, shape, build, even the size, was all wrong. Whether it was dangerous, though, was still up for debate. But, just as that thought passed through his mind, the thing just... disappeared, like magic. Terry blinked, and it was gone, the girl who had been encased inside dropping neatly to the ground in front of him. Ter took a step back, clear confusion showing on his face. Well, okay.

             He almost missed her. Walking down the winding path of the park, Terry was paying little attention to anything outside of his own thoughts, and so he nearly walked right past the sleeping girl curled up on the park bench. It was her hair, shining white and pure in the afternoon sunlight, that caught his eye at the last second, causing him to turn his head and notice her. She was strikingly beautiful in an unearthly, effortless way that left Terry feeling almost like she wasn’t real, her round face so full of innocence and tranquility. Despite himself, he felt a slight flush sweep across his cheeks, and he flicked his eyes to the side almost awkwardly. Part of him wanted to walk on, to leave the girl be, but another part of him acknowledged that this city was a dangerous place, and no sleeping girl should be left alone and vulnerable. He was, after all, a big brother, a protector, and she looked even younger than he himself was. A hand came up to rub the back of his neck as Terry creased his forehead in thought before, very carefully, settling on the other side of the bench from the sleeping figure.

             His breath came in ragged gasps by the time he had reached his destination, a rooftop in one of the sketchier sections of the city. It was an odd sensation, to be so out of breath while wearing the Batsuit—or any time, for that matter. Even for his age, Terry was as fit as he could get: a result of both training and his “night job”. But even for his endurance, ten blocks scrambling over fire escapes and hazardously jumping from rooftop to rooftop was pushing it. Without his glider wings or his boot jets, or even the enhanced physical abilities the suit generally granted him, it was hard. Terry could somewhat appreciate what Bruce and the rest had done now, back in the old days, when all they had were their gadgets, their wits, and their bodies. He let himself mull over the thought as he collapsed onto the gritty surface of the blacktop, leaning back on his outstretched arms and letting his head fall back. He breathed in deeply through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, letting his breath slowly leak back into his battered lungs.

             It was the gentle blue glow that had drawn Terry in, initially. It bathed the brick of the alleyway with ghostly lights and threw haphazard shadows across the ground, giving the scene an almost unearthly feel. He was a moth to a flame, his curiosity driving him towards the source... although not blindly. He was alert and wary, his steps light as he approached. If the glow’s source ended up being something hostile, he didn’t want Terry McGinnis to stick around as a witness—although Batman was a whole other story. And so he was cautious as he peeked his head around the corner and rested his gaze on... a girl. In her hands she held a crackling blue laser, and it was from that which the light originated. Terry blinked, once, twice, three times before making the decision to step out from around the corner and approach the girl. Although she looked strong and wiry, nothing about her seemed hostile, and so Terry allowed his fascination to draw him ever-closer.