Gotham High (IC)

[The Jeffinator]

Story Log

Chapter I: New Beginnings (pg. 1)
Chapter II: Coming soon...

~ G O T H A M ~
H I G H
____________________________________

Chapter I
New Beginnings​

Almacabra Theater
Gotham City Narrows
Friday, September 8th, 2006 10:35PM

It was a dark and cloudy night, but Thomas Wayne wasn't about to let that ruin his family's time at the theater. His wife Martha and his seven year old son Bruce had been looking forward to this show for months, though many of his colleagues thought him foolish for even being in the Narrows at that time of night. Thomas remained unpersuaded, however, as he thought the citizens of the city would respect him for all the work he had done with the Wayne Foundation. He felt the Narrows posed his family no threat, and by the time he realized what a grave mistake that had been, it was far too late.

After the show was over, Thomas and his family exited the theater, only to find themselves staring down the barrel of a gun. A masked man in a thick black coat stood before them, his voice muffled by the material covering his mouth.

“Your valuables. Now!” he barked at them. Bruce began trembling as his parents started fumbling to hand over everything they had on them. Watches, bracelets, necklaces, Thomas's wallet, Martha's purse.

“Okay, everything we have is now yours,” Thomas said. “Please, let us go now.”

The man continued to point the gun at them, then aimed directly at Martha's head and fired. The crack of the shot startled Bruce as he saw his mother tumbled to the ground, and he barely heard his father scream out in protest. A second later, there was another shot, and the boy now gazed upon the corpses of his parents as a pool of blood collected around them. Tears in his eyes, Bruce looked up and stared at the masked man.

“Sorry kid, business is business,” he said before vanishing down an alley.

“I'll kill you...” Bruce whispered under his breath, He then yelled it louder. “I'll kill you! You hear me!? I'll kill you!!!” He kept screaming this out over and over and barely noticed when their butler, Alfred Pennyworth, arrived at the scene and embraced him. A short while later he was being questioned by Detective James Gordon, who was particularly interested in Bruce's recollection of the man saying “business is business,” indicating a planned hit.

In the months to follow, the highly-publicized Wayne deaths cracked open the veil surrounding much of the organized crime in the city, leading to the creation of the Major Crimes Unit within the Detective Bureau of the GCPD. James Gordon was one of the primary architects of this new group and it's formation helped him rise through the ranks quickly as they battled the Mob and organized crime in general, including corrupt police officers and politicians.

Bruce never forgot that night outside the theater and became determined to be ready should something like that ever happen again. Alfred taught him kickboxing and Judo for several years, but eventually he was taken under the wing of Ted Grant, a retired martial artist who had once made a name for himself in tournaments across the globe as the “Walloping Wildcat.” Grant was primarily trained in the art of Ninjutsu, but had also fused elements of Karate, Kung Fu, Judo, and Muay Thai into his techniques, which he passed on to Bruce through his teachings.

By the time Bruce was nearing his eighteenth birthday, he had become quite the martial artist himself, though as Grant had always told him, education is not something you can ever complete...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Horace T. Gotham High School
Gotham City (Nestor Ridge neighborhood)
Monday, August 29th, 2016 07:39AM

“Do try to have a good day, Master Bruce,” Alfred said from the kitchen as the teen stuffed his breakfast down his throat and headed out the door for the first day of school.

“You too, Alfred!” he said with a mouth full of food. Out to the garage and behind the wheel of his chrome Lamborghini he went, his hair fresh and dressed in a pair of expensive blue jeans and crisp gray polo. He had dozens of top of the line Armani suits he could have worn, but he made an effort to dress somewhat normally to blend in better with the other students.

During his grade school years he had attended Gotham Academy with his friend Alex Luthor, as they both agreed it was the finest private school in the country. But when he reached high school years, Bruce decided to attend public school to keep in touch with the every day people of the city. Alex decided to do the same and so they both enrolled at Gotham High for their freshman year onwards.

He thought back on his life so far as he drove to school, a little depressed at the fact that the ten year anniversary of his parents' deaths was just around the corner. He was happy at least that the tragedy of the Wayne deaths had led to a major crackdown on the crime families in the city, and his good friend Jim Gordon was now the Deputy Chief in charge of the Major Crimes Unit.

Soon Bruce was pulling into the school parking lot, set his car alarm, threw his book bag over his shoulder and strolled towards the building.

(NOTE: Yes, Bruce is 17 right now, but he turns 18 in one month and no sexual contact will happen with him until he officially turns 18. After primary introductions the story will fast forward to his birthday.)

 

[Aliceinchains36]

Ophelia watched the yellow liquid boil and fizz, ignoring the approaching footsteps behind her. She knew who it was, and hoped he'd only demand money this week. But when she felt him press himself against her back and fondle her breasts through her shirt, she knew he wouldn't accept money today. "What are you working on Ms. Crane?" The chemistry teacher Mr. Jones asked, forcing his hand down the front of Ophelia's pants. "Poison." She replied tonelessly, mixing the boiling yellow liquid into a beaker of grey-brown paste. An explosion of sickly yellow fog filled the room, and Ophelia almost smiled as she felt Mr. Jones pull away from her coughing. "Come to my office when you're done." He managed to choke out to her, before exiting the room. She ignored his leaving and the gas that surrounded her as she worked, pouring the new mixture onto a tray and lighting it on fire. She watched as the paste burnt to a charred black, releasing a cloud of noxious purple smoke as it did so. These chemicals alone would be enough to kill anyone, but the fumes didn't affect Ophelia. She simply ignored the burning in her throat and tears in her eyes as she poured water onto the burning tray. The concoction sizzled and hissed, and the black paste hardened as it absorbed the water. Ophelia waited a moment for her product to cool, before lifting the tray and slamming it back down on the table. The solid block of black cracked up and fell apart, turning into a fine black powder. Ophelia gathered the powder into a plastic bag marked with two crossed scythes, before dropping it into her satchel. She then left the lab, not bothering to lock the door, and made her way to Mr. Jones's office.

Ten Minutes Later...

Ophelia emerged from the office with a sick look on her pale face. She walked a few steps down the hall before forcing her fingers down her throat. She gagged for a moment before vomiting Mr. Jones's semen all over the floor. "Hey... Are you ok? Do you need the nurse?" Asked a student who saw Ophelia as he made his way down the hall. "Fuck off." She growled, fishing a small bag out of her pocket as she made her way down the hall. The bag was marked with a creepy smiling scarecrow holding a single scythe across his chest. She pulled three of the pills from the bag and tossed them into her mouth. She crunched the drugs between her teeth as she exited the building. She moved around the perimeter of the school to a small empty lot between the main building and a smaller one. She moved towards a line of dumpsters and pushed one aside to reveal a small alcove that contained a stained mattress, a card table, two folding chairs, a couch with ripped cushions, and many empty liquor bottles. Ophelia pulled the dumpster back into place before collapsing onto the mattress, sending several angry rats scurrying away as she did so.

This was her "secret hideout", her home away from home, and only a handful of people in Gotham knew about this place. Ophelia was rarely bothered here, and she was glad for the isolation as the drugs began to quickly take hold of her mind. She brushed a rat off of her chest, and laughed as the rodent burst into a sea of blood as it hit the pavement. The blood began to move, and soon it was an army of tiny rats, crawling all over her body. She continued to laugh, even as the creatures began to chew on her flesh, and burrow under her skin. Ophelia continued to laugh, hysterically and loudly, as the rats crawled into her brain and ate her memories. Then the laughter died away, and a content smile spread on her face, as the rats ate away her mind. As they ate away her past and her present, as they ate away who she was and who she would become. For a moment Ophelia didn't know she was Ophelia, and in that moment, she was happy.

 

[The Jeffinator]

Jerome Velaska stood shirtless in front of his dirty bathroom mirror, looking down at the bottle of anti-psychotics he held in his hand. He had been diagnosed as schizophrenic as a young child due to voices in his head and images of demon clowns telling him to brutally murder his family and friends. Once he was on the pills, the voices and hallucinations stopped and he attained some semblance of normalcy, however he was also a little different than the other children. Quieter, more reserved. Severely introverted and labled as a geek or a nerd by his classmates. The bullying he had received the year prior caused him to drop out of school before completing his senior year, though the constant verbal abuse he received at the hands of his alcoholic mother and step-father over the summer caused him to return to complete his education.

As he looked from the bottle up to his reflection in the mirror, he could see the fear in his own eyes, the severe anxiety at the thought of returning to school. If he returned today, the bullies would torment him once more. But if he didn't, his mother would torment him at home for being a drop-out loser. He strongly considered abandoning his medication, feeling maybe it would be easier to cope if he had his imaginary friends back.

"I just want to be happy..." he said to himself quietly, then emptied the pill bottle into the toilet and flushed. "And I will be..." He then got dressed and headed off to school in his beat up old Volkswagen Beetle.

"Well what do you know!" yelled a voice as Jerome entered the building. It was Butch Gilzean, a large musclehead and star quarterback of the school football team. "The Pussy Clown has returned!"

"Don't call me that, please," he replied as his voice cracked. "I don't want any trouble. I just want to finish my studies so I can get into a good college. Please, just let me be."

"Your sorry ass returned to my turf, Clown," Butch said with a laugh. "You found trouble. Boys, let's get to it!" The group of young men grabbed Jerome and dragged him into the nearest bathroom kicking and screaming. They punched him hard a few times in the gut, dunked his head in the toilet, and then left him crumbled in the corner, covered in bruises and water. They laughed as they exited the bathroom to go to class.

"You're a piece of shit, Butch..." he said under his breath as he wiped his nose with his sleeve. "I wish you'd just fucking die..." He immediately felt guilty for thinking that, shaking it off. He had no idea the true depths of the darkness within him, but would become fully aware of them in the months to come as all traces of his medication faded from his bloodstream.

 

[SeraphNocturne]

"Fighting! Again!--Selina?" The words lingered in the air on a dull tone heavy-laden with disdain. Selina's slender fingers tightened, her fists extending in rapid jabs before her, tagging the punching bag with deadly precision. It shuddered, swaying back and forth heavily with each carefully placed punch. Jab, block, jab, sweep--duck, uppercut. The combinations flowed listlessly, lucid emerald gaze intense and focused on her target with her brow furrowed and breathing controlled. She put a face on the bag every time and no doubt this morning was one she was particularly unfond of. "Selina, will you stop hitting that thing and look at me when I'm talking to you?!" The sharp melodic trill of a violin solo crossed with the modernization of bass and electronica instruments blared in her ears, drowning out the sound of the woman's voice, who had began to cross the small home-gymnasium in a rapid step, her high-heels clicking across the polished floor.

"Selina!" The hiss of the woman's words accompanied by her ripping the headphones from the teen's head quite violently pulled her back to this plane, narrowly saving her mother from sporting a very much fitting shiner as the teen's fists froze in the air, and she stared at her, ever so slightly dazed, "Uhhh, what?" She snapped, "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You, young lady, are going to correct that nasty ass tone you've been taking with me lately! Selina, what have I told you about the fighting?! You think this is cute? To run around causing all kinds of commotion and making a fool out of yourself--and me, and your father in the proc--"

"He's not... my father." The low hiss of that statement accompanied a roll of those pretty green eyes as she stepped back from the punching bag, and the shrewish woman she called her mother, looking quite flabbergasted as ever at the attitude her daughter was giving her. Her arms rose over her head, stretching muscles still tight and warm from her morning exercise. The black sports bra she wore was dampened well with sweat, little beads glistening on her lightly tanned skin. The small black and navy shorts hugging the girl's hips clung to her skin as well from the energy she placed into her workout. Her hands were wrapped gently, black finger-less gloves placed over them to protect her from the force of her blows... and along that creamy caramel skin were the tell-tale signs of a fighter. Fresh bruises in reddish-purple speckled her flesh... not many, but enough to be a concern to her mother. As far as she was concerned, a young lady's place was not in a ring or on the streets brawling with thugs and hooligans.
"He IS your father, he's the one paying for all of your schooling, your elective classes, gymnastics, ballet--the finishing school!--"

"You mean he's paying for all of that for you. I don't want any of it!" She snatched her water bottle from the floor, glancing to the slender silver watch on her wrist to check the time. She was going to miss the first bell. It wasn't the first time she was tardy, nor would it be the last. She felt her mother hot on her heels, and was suddenly jerked to a stop by the woman as she grabbed her forearm, the bruise there causing her to wince slightly. "Listen to me. I don't know what the hell has gotten into you... maybe you're going through some things at school, or juggling your meets with your recitals is just... too much stress--I don't care, frankly. But you will not treat me, or your father with such disrespect... do you understand?"

She pulled her arm free from the woman, cutting her a sharp glare, her full plush lips pursed hard in resentment as strands of silky black hair dropped before her eyes. "Yeah. Sure."

---

She mulled it over in the shower... she had been here for only ten years. Small, straight teeth tugged gently on her bottom lip as was common when Selina was in deep thought, dragging her feet down the empty hall without a care in the world that she'd missed two classes already. Only ten years... it left so many questions unanswered. She dressed as per usual, in form fitting black jeans and a slightly more loose black t-shirt. It draped off of one shoulder, snug around her perky chest, and flowed out once more in an asymmetrical design, looking slightly tattered and maybe a little burnt around the bottom edges with some illegible phrase scrawled over the front in acid-purple print like a spray-painted tag. Her pack was small, obviously not brought along to carry her books and coursework, and only contained make-up products, her dark hair an unruly mess of still-damp spiral curls from her shower. Bright red lipstick stained the girl's full mouth, her eyes lacking anything other than mascara to cause those already long lashes to 'pop' a little more, further cementing that almost predatory, seductive aura Selina Kyle had about herself.

Ignoring the late bell chiming she slipped into the ladies room and made a bee-line for the largest stall, climbing atop the toilet to push the stiff glass window open before producing a black pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her black bomber jacket and sliding one of the slender black sticks between her lips. Ten years... Where had they gotten all of her baby photos, the pictures of family vacations? Nothing made sense anymore. Selina wasn't too certain whether she wanted to know the truth... but she did know she would have rather have not found out in the way she did. The girl felt her stomach turn at the though, inhaling deeply from the black clove cigarette in her mouth as she forced those thoughts to the back of her mind and immediately sent her thoughts to a place of solace...

Maybe the gym was empty, it was early in the day. She could get in a quite session in the weights room and then head to the showers. She exhaled, a long stream of wispy white smoke curling from those plush, rouge tinted lips. Fuck, she would live in the shower at this point, if she could... it didn't matter how many showers she took though. That feeling she had, that dirty, sick feeling that turned her stomach and made her feel so worthless these days... it wouldn't ever go away.

 

[Aliceinchains36]

Olivia watched sadly as her old car drove away. The blue sedan wasn't anything special, but it got her where she needed to go. Unfortunately, she needed rent money more than a car, so she sold the faithful vehicle. She sighed looking at the check in her hand, before tucking it into her pocket and climbing onto her new bike. "Think of it this way..." She thought, peddling away from her apartment's parking lot. "...You'll be getting a workout every time you go anywhere." Somehow, the thought didn't comfort her.

Olivia spent the next twenty minutes weaving in and out of the early morning Gotham traffic, before finally arriving at school. She rolled across the mostly empty parking lot and stopped in front of the front entrance to the school. She put her bike in the vacant rack, and secured it with her new lock, thankful that the man who bought her car included the lock and chain with his old bike. She entered the school and walked down the empty halls towards the gym.

As president of the archery club, Olivia had been given keys to the sports supply closet, as well as permission to come into the school before classes started, privileges she used often. She found it calming practicing her archery in the cool Gotham mornings, and rarely missed a day. She then showered in the locker room, dressed in clean clothes, and spent the remainder of the morning studying and doing homework until classes began. Olivia enjoyed getting an early start, it helped give her a feeling of normalcy, something she desperately needed. Plus with her "after-school activities" the only opportunity she had to do homework was in the mornings.

Olivia selected her favorite bow, a quiver of arrows, and a target from the supply room, before heading outside to the football field. She set up the target, strung her bow, and secured her arrows, before taking off at a full sprint down the track. She ran the full circumference of the track, taking a shot at the target every time she passed. After the third lap, Olivia couldn't help but smile. She loved this. The thrill of exertion, the way her lungs and legs burned, the way the bowstring slapped against her leather brace on her forearm (an item she wore all the time like jewelry) as she let the arrow fly towards the target. This was what Olivia loved, but it was only a taste of the real thing. Running over rooftops at night, dodging bullets and cop cars, her arrows hitting moving targets. That's what Olivia lived for. The fear, the danger, the adrenaline, the victory! It was better than anything. More addictive than any drug. And Olivia was hooked. She was a vigilante, know as the "Green Arrow", and people all over Gotham knew her name. But no one knew, or even suspected her secret. Boring quiet Olivia. The girl who showed up to school before the teachers. There was no way anyone would suspect what she did at night. Maybe if they saw her now, running like a gazelle and hitting a bullseye on every pass, but she was alone now. It was just her. And her target. And she didn't miss. She never missed anymore. Not since...

No! Olivia pushed herself harder, moved her legs faster. She wouldn't think about it. About him. About her mistake. She wouldn't let the tears come. She'd push herself harder. To the point of breaking. And she'd never miss again.

Later...

Olivia sighed in pleasure as the warm water splashed against her back. If archery was her favorite thing, the shower after the workout was a close second. "...And I'd love it even more if I had someone in here with me massaging the knots out of my neck." she thought, shampooing her long blonde hair. She scrubbed the sweat from her skin before rinsing the soap from her body and hair, and shutting off the water. She dried herself off and wrapped herself in a towel before leaving the shower for the locker room. She opened her locker and removed the clothes she'd selected the night before from her bag, and replaced them with her dirty workout clothes that she'd wash tonight. She put on a cute pair of panties and a matching purple bra, "Not that anyone will ever see me in these.", a pair of jeans, a grey tank top, and finally a dark blue "Gotham High" hoodie. She finished the outfit off with a worn pair of grey converse sneakers, and her bulging backpack (there wasn't a bag in the world big enough to hold an honor student's workload). She locked her locker and exited the locker room, heading for her favorite spot in the cafeteria.

Olivia spent the next hour sitting in the cafeteria pouring over her history book in preparation for today's test. She thanked Gladys, a kindly lunch lady, who brought her a bowl of the school breakfast oatmeal, and ate as she continued to read. Soon students began to trickle into the school, and a little later the bell rang. Olivia made her way to her history class, and took her seat at the front of the room. She was ready to ace her test, and any other challenge the day threw at her. She smiled to herself as she wrote out her first answer on the test, already knowing she'd get a perfect score. That's what Olivia was. Or at least why she tried so hard to be. Perfect. She had to be. She was living for two people, after all.

 

[The Jeffinator]

Alexander Luthor rose as his alarm chimed, reluctantly climbing out of his large bed and silk sheets. His room – and entire home, for that matter – was quite spacious and luxurious, the benefits of being a Luthor. But in this case, the mansion was actually owned by Theo Galavan, Alex's uncle. Galavan had married into the Luthor family some time ago, and represented their interests in Gotham. He headed OmniTech Solutions, which was under the Luthor Industries umbrella and worked very closely with Lucius Fox of WayneTech in Gotham on a number of military-funded projects.

Galavan had taken Alex under his wing to teach him about business, much the same way Lucius Fox had done for Bruce Wayne. The two boys had become close friends over the years, but Bruce was beginning to notice Alex becoming more distant as they got older. Colder in some of his words, less compassionate. This greatly concerned Bruce, and Alex was aware, but chose not to delve too deep into it.

After he showered, Alex headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. Of course, Uncle Theo was already gone, having always been early to rise and leave for work. Soon Alex was leaving as well, driving off his estate in his brand new BMW. Before long he arrived at Gotham High and headed in to class.

Meanwhile, Werner Zytle had already been at the school, specifically looking for Ophelia Crane. The package they had been waiting for had just come in that morning – a shipment of Metakochav, a rare breed of mushroom from Vlatvala. Alone it was highly toxic to humans, but when marinated in the right chemicals, the psychedelic compounds psilocybin and psilocin could be extracted while leaving the poisonous elements behind. These particular mushrooms contained a much stronger concentration of chemicals than other species, but were largely untouched by the international drug market due to their volatility.

The previous year Werner had met Ophelia while working with the Young Scientists Program at the school, and had immediately been fascinated with her brilliant young mind and her affinity for chemistry. He had been trying for months to utilize the Metakochav mushrooms in a safe way to capitalize on this potentially rich untouched drug gold mine, and knew she could help him. They worked together over the summer on various small samples of the mushrooms until they were able to produce a pure extract without the toxins. They tested it out on captured sewer rats, but it was too potent and killed them each time. Ultimately they mixed the mushroom extract with several chemicals Ophelia used in her drugs, including opioids and several synthetic compounds. They eventually produced a stable formula that resulted in a deep emerald rocky substance, which was then ground into a fine powder and pressed into capsules. Their new test rats experienced a rush of euphoric sensations and heightened senses, but no averse harmful side-effects.

Next they tried their drug out on a few local bums, who reported feeling like they were floating or flying, and being generally happier even after the drug wore off. This meant the drug was very low-risk and would actually help fight depression, thus meaning it would sell very well and make Werner and Ophelia very rich. They decided to name this new formula Vertigo and Werner used his contacts back in Vlatvala to send a large shipment of the mushrooms to him.

That shipment had now arrived, and Werner was looking for Ophelia to let her know in person since she didn't use a phone. When she wasn't in the lab, he walked out back to her hiding spot, made sure no one was watching, and then ducked down and knocked on the dumpster outside her enclave.

“Special delivery!” he said happily in his Russian-like accent. “The bricks with which we shall build the foundation of our new empire have arrived, my dear!” Although he did find Ophelia considerably attractive, he was always a gentleman with her and respected her boundaries. Back home he had seen many men control and abuse women, and he had become determined from a young age to never be like them. He treated her with respect and dignity and often praised her on being a better chemist than even him.

Back inside the school, Bruce Wayne went to his first class – History. As he walked into the room, he saw a flash of beautiful blonde hair and sat in the desk next to her. When she turned to see who was sitting down next to her, he smiled as he looked into her gorgeous blue eyes. He just locked gazes with her for a moment and then raised his eyebrows.

“So, you come here often?” he said, trying to sound smooth. A moment later his straight face cracked and he started laughing. “Sorry, that was lame, I know.” During the day he maintained his rich playboy personality, but it was only a facade – that was his true mask. When he was running along rooftops and cracking skulls he felt more himself than anywhere else. He was the Dark Knight, and Bruce Wayne was his mask.

“Hello class, I'm Mr. Reynolds,” the teacher said a few minutes later. “Are you all ready for your test?”

“A test on the first day of school?” Bruce asked, puzzled. “Wow Mr. Reynolds, you don't mess around!”

“It's a good way to see where everyone is at academically before starting the course material, Mr. Wayne.”

“Of course, of course.”

Elsewhere, Jerome Velaska continued on through the day trying to keep his head down as best he could and avoid Butch. He hated himself for not having the courage to stand up to him, and knew deep down that there was a monster inside him raging to get out. A part of him may have even secretly hoped the monster would rear its ugly head and silence Butch. Little did he know how much these thoughts would manifest in the weeks and months to come.

 

[Aliceinchains36]

Ophelia growled in displeasure when she heard the dumpster that blocked the entry to her hideout scrape on the ground as it was moved. All of Ophelia's highs were fleeting, and she was already coming down from this one. She just wanted solitude to try to hold onto the feeling, and she wasn't happy about her visitor. It was Werner, going on about his stupid mushrooms. His overly cheerful voice was irritating, and Ophelia just wanted to be alone. She didn't move or respond to him, but he just wouldn't shut up, to her growing irritation.

Finally Ophelia couldn't stand the sound of his voice any longer. "Go away!" She hissed, tossing a bottle in the direction of the bothersome voice. She was disappointed when she heard it shatter against the wall instead of his head. She was even more disappointed that he kept talking. He was probably used to her behavior by now. She rolled onto her back and pulled the bag of scarecrow from her pocket, swallowing four pills before sitting up. She usually had to be high on something to deal with anyone.

"Just leave the shit here and I'll get to it later." She said, watching Werner's face twist off of his skull, like water down a drain. "Have you sold any of my other shit. I want my cut. I haven't payed rent in a few months." She said, smiling as the world turned blue. "And you can keep extra if you do me a favor." She said lurching to her feet. The ground was moving right now, and if was hard to keep her feet steady. "Will you deliver this blight to the black mask guys? I don't feel like having those creepy leer at me." She said, pulling the bag of poison from her satchel and holding it out towards the group of blue Werners standing in front of her.

 

[Aliceinchains36]

Olivia rolled her eyes at the attempt at flirting. As far as pick up lines went, that one was not impressive. She just ignored the pretty boy and focused on her test. It wasn't exactly an easy exam, but Olivia whizzed through the questions easily enough, finishing the test before anyone else in the class. She handed the test sheet to Mr. Reynolds, confident that she aced it. The remainder of the class was spent waiting for the other students to finish the test, a short overview of the class, and then the bell. Olivia made a quick stop at her locker to grab her math book, before quickly dashing off to the class. She entered the math room, only to see that most of the seats were already filled. There was one open in the front row, but it was next to the pretty boy.

"Hello again." Olivia said politely to him as she took her seat. In the history class she wouldn't have taken him for the type to be in a college level math course, but if he was taking advanced classes she could be seeing a lot of him. "So, is this your only honors course?" She asked him while the class waited for the teacher to arrive.

 

[The Jeffinator]

Werner smiled to himself as Ophelia yelled at him to go away. She was not a particularly positive person to be around, and downright foul at times, but she was a genius when it came to chemicals and compounds and he loved that about her. He saw through the rough and often times volatile exterior into the brilliant mind that lied beneath. He never lost his temper with her, never threatened her, never gave her a reason to question his commitment to their partnership.

She did not hold the same reservations towards him most times, but it did not matter to him. Werner was just content to be around her and was fascinated whenever he watched her work. The greater complexities of the chemical reactions came to her so easily compared to him, and he considered her a genuine untapped prodigy. He had often suggested her work could easily earn her a scholarship to an Ivy League university, which was usually met with a combination of grunts, sighs, and verbally abusive outbursts, depending on how completely blitzed she was. But he didn't care – he still wanted her to hear it. Whether she would admit it or not, he felt she needed to hear at least one person believe in her, praise her, give her hope. She often showed anger or discomfort at being told these things, but she was still there working with him, so he felt she must appreciate it on some level. Despite her frequent anger at him, she had yet to terminate their partnership.

After she mentioned leaving the mushrooms, Werner smiled. “I don't have them with me. It's quite a large box. I'll deliver the Blight as you asked, but I was hoping first you'd come with me so I can show you a surprise. I think you're going to like it. Quite a lot, actually.”

Meanwhile back in the school, Bruce completed the History exam, fairly confident he had answered every question correctly. Over the summer he had hacked into the school's computers and downloaded whatever course materials were stored on the server, studying them thoroughly during the day. He knew that once school started, he wasn't going to have a lot of time to study between classes and night patrol, so he had planned ahead and was already familiar with a majority of course work they would be given over the first semester. If given the final exams, he knew he could pass them right then and there and graduate early, but he needed to keep up appearances, and so he would keep attending until his official graduation.

Next class was Multivariable Calculus, a college-level math class that only a handful of high schools in the country offered. When he had first enrolled at Gotham High, he had already previously taken honors classes and had completed Algebra I, II, and Geometry, so freshmen year he went right into Trigonometry. Sophomore year was Pre-Calculus and then Calculus in his junior year.

“Are you stalking me?” he said with a smile as the blonde girl from History class sat next to him. Then, answering her question, he replied, “No, most of my classes are honors this year. Gotta study hard if I want to some day run my parents' company. I could just drop out now, waltz in there and take over as I am the majority shareholder – or will be on my birthday – but I'd rather earn the respect of the Board and do it the right way. And that requires a college education. By the way, what's your name? I'm Bruce Wayne.” He extended a hand.

A few minutes later, the teacher walked into the room. He looked old and boring and when he started talking, he droned on in a particularly nasal monotone voice. “Good morning, class. I'm Mr. Peabody, and today we'll be starting Multivariable Calculus. The study of limits and continuity in multivariable calculus yields many counter-intuitive results not demonstrated by single-variable functions. For example, there are scalar functions of two variables with points in their domain which give a particular limit when approached along any arbitrary line, yet give a different limit when approached along a parabola. For example, a function such as this one,” he drew a complex equation on the blackboard – “approaches zero along any line through the origin. However, when the origin is approached along a parabola y=x2, it has a limit of 0.5. Since taking different paths toward the same point yields different values for the limit, the limit does not exist. Continuity in each argument is not sufficient for multivariate continuity. For instance, in the case of a real-valued function with two real-valued parameters...” he continued to drone on.

 

[Aliceinchains36]

Ophelia considered the giant talking rabbit for a moment, before sighing. "Fine. But it better be worth it. I just took four times the recommended dose." She said, stumbling past the rabbit towards the exit. She pushed the dumpster aside and waited for him to hop out before replacing the dumpster. "So where are you taking me?" She asked, watching the rabbit transform back into Werner in a brief moment of clarity, before changing again into a t-rex wearing a bowler hat.

-----

"Wayne? As in the Wayne's with their name on the big tower downtown Wayne?" Olivia asked in disbelief. She'd read about the Wayne's. They were a very old, powerful, and rich family. A lot like the queens. She also read about how Thomas and Martha Wayne had been gunned down one night, leaving their son an orphan. But there was no way this Bruce could be the same one. Bruce Wayne could afford to go to any school in the world, he wouldn't be at a public high school. It was a coincidence. No, it wasn't that. This was a creep pretending to be someone else to impress her. Than again, he did look the part of rich playboy...

Before he could answer her question the teacher walked in cutting the conversation short. She tried to pay attention to the lecture, but her mind kept wandering to the guy sitting next to her. She just had to know...

After a subtle google search, Olivia was shocked to see that this was in fact the real Bruce Wayne. Or at least his long lost twin brother. Either way, Olivia wanted to know more. She tore a scrap of paper from her notebook and scribbled down a message before passing it to Bruce.

Meet me on the bleachers at lunch

Once the note was out if her hand, Olivia pushed Bruce from her mind, and focused on the lecture. The bell rang, and Olivia darted out of the room before Bruce could talk to her. She wanted to focus on her work. Her next class was biology, a class she thankfully didn't share with Bruce. After the note it would be awkward to sit in the same room with him without addressing it. She stared at the clock waiting for the lunch bell. Finally after an eternity, the bell rang and the class was over.

Olivia stopped by the cafeteria and purchased a wilted salad and semi-cold coke, before going outside to the bleachers. She sat down on the burning metal and began to pick at her salad, wondering if he'd show up. "Ugh, why'd I ask him to meet me outside? It's so hot out here!" She thought to herself, removing her hoodie in an attempt to cool off.

 

[The Jeffinator]

“Trust me, it's worth it,” Werner assured her, smiling. They walked out to the parking lot and approached a brand new red Corvette. “Like my new wheels, my dear? I know you're wondering how I afforded this – and that will be answered as soon as we get where we're going.”

They drove about twenty minutes away from the school, pulling up into the driveway of a small house with a garage and fenced in yard. As they approached the front door Werner pulled out a key, stepped inside, and revealed a collapsible wall in the back of the bedroom closet. Behind it was a hidden staircase leading to a rather large basement. When they descended into this room, Ophelia was met with an array of shiny new lab equipment, tables, chairs, a new computer, containment modules for live specimens, glass vials and breakers, and everything else needed to run a major drug lab.

“This is all yours, Ophelia,” he explained. “You don't ever have to work with that repulsive teacher again. This house and this lab both belong to you. The car is mine, however. But you'll be able to buy your own car with that,” he added, pointing to a duffel bag full of money sitting on a table.

“That bag has about twenty thousand dollars in it, as well as the keys and deed to this house. It's all paid off, no rent, no mortgage. The property taxes and utilities are also already paid for one full year. I know you're wondering how this is possible – we have a new investor. He only goes by the Shadow Broker, and he was very interested when he got his hands on one of our samples of Vertigo from last month. He gave me a loan to build you a state-of-the-art drug lab, but worry not, for the deal was with me specifically. You owe him nothing. I own the debt fully, and I will repay him plus interest solely out of my cut of our profits.”

He knew she may find this too much, and even if she ranted and raved and lost her temper, he knew deep down she would be happy to work with quality equipment.

Back at the school, Bruce was walking out towards the bleachers with a burger and fries on his tray and a bottle of soda in his hand. He spotted Olivia and smiled when he noticed she had taken off her hoodie, revealing her soft skin beneath the tank top. He walked towards her and sat down next to her on the bench.

“Hey... you,” he said awkwardly. “You know, you never did tell me your name. I mean, I can call you Babe or Toots if you like, but something tells me that will get me hit and so you should probably just tell me your name.” He smiled and then took a large bite of his burger.

 

[Aliceinchains36]

Ophelia grew more sober with every passing minute. She had followed the T-rex into the pouch of the giant kangaroo, only for it to transform into a spaceship, then into a car. A very nice car. With Werner driving it. "I most still be tripping if this is his ride." She thought to herself, wondering why he was taking her to one of the shitty inner-city suburbs. He parked in the driveway of a not too rundown house, and took her inside. He showed her around, yapping the whole way, as he moved a false wall and took her into a basement chem-lab. She listened silently as he explained the house was hers, as well as a bag of money, all without costing her a thing. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion with every word, and as he spoke, she stealthily slipped on her gas gauntlet.

Werner finally shut up, and looked at her expectantly. She said nothing, before finally raising the gauntlet and aiming it at his face. "Why?" She hissed. "Why do all this shit for me? Why go through all the trouble? You've always been weird, but this is too fucking much. No one does this without wanting something back. So what do you why from me? Huh? You want me owing you? You want to fuck me? You think buying me a house will give you unlimited access to my cunt? Well fuck you. I don't want any of this shit. I don't want whatever you're selling. There's no such thing as fucking charity, and whatever the price for all this shit is, it's too high." Ophelia said, her yellow eyes wide with paranoia. She slowly backed towards the exit, her gauntlet still leveled at Werner's head. "We're done. Whatever it is you want from me, you can't fucking have it. Find someone else to cook your shit. And if I ever see you again, it'll be blight in your face." She growled, spraying him with a face full of scythe.

Ophelia didn't stick around to watch him. She bolted from the house, running down the street at a full sprint. He probably had some trap set up for her if she didn't take the bait. She knew something was coming for her. She had to get to get safe-house, and she had to get there now. She noticed a station wagon sitting in a run down driveway, and ran towards it. She picked the lock and hot wired the car, before slamming on the gas and peeling out of the driveway. She drove erratically, swerving in and out if traffic, making random turns, and doubling back on roads she'd already taken. She did all this to throw the tail she knew she had. After an hour or so of her insane driving, she began to head for the direction of downtown. She still drove erratically, but now she had a destination in mind. Her safe-house. A place that only she knew about. A place where she'd be safe. For now.

-----

"Yea, that will definitely get you hit." She laughed. "I'm Olivia," She decided to leave out her last name for now, "And you... Hmmmm. I don't actually know how to phrase this without sounding like a psycho stalker chick." She giggled nervously. "I guess you'll just have to trust me when I say I'm not dangerous or crazy." A brief image of a green hood flashed in her mind, but she quickly pushed it aside. "You're Bruce Wayne. And you're very very rich. So... Why here? You're bragging about being the CEO of your own freaking company, but you choose Gotham High to prove yourself? You could go anywhere you wanted. Some French prep school or something. Why here?" She asked him. She realized that she sounded crazy as soon as the words left her mouth, and she began to backpedal immediately. "Um wait, that sounded bad. And that's really personal. Nevermind? Or um... I..." Olivia could feel her face turning scarlet, and she wanted nothing more than to just hide under the bleachers and never emerge again.

 

[BassPlayerRob]

Milton Fine turned the glittering metal object over and over again in his hands. He had uncovered it earlier in the park when he was taking his new metal detector for a spin. When you're one of the least popular students at school with very few friends around, you have to find some way to enjoy yourself in the world, after all. He had dug up this glittering, strange metallic oblong structure from an isolated wooded area, and was examining all the strange carvings on it. It seemed to be a piece of a much larger metallic tableau, but of what he had no idea. As his hand traced the markings, the object suddenly lit up. The object latched onto his hand and Milton suddenly felt a searing burning heat run up his arm and into his head as the mother of all migraines hit him. He could swear he saw stars as he laid twitching on the grass, appearing to have a seizure similar to an extreme epileptic fit.

Milton closed his eyes, and the pain seemed to quickly disappear. When he slowly opened his eyes again, the metallic medallion had disappeared. Or had it? Milton noticed his scalp felt very warm and as he placed his hands on his head he noticed two metalic nodes that appeared to be buried in his skin beneath his hair. "What the hell," he gasped to no one in particular. Just then he had a deep echoing voice. Do not be alarmed human. I am an artificial intelligence designated BR41-569238N14C-523, but you may call me Brainiac. I am a piece of a much larger entity that was blown apart and scattered 18 years ago on a planet called Krypton. I have integrated myself into your being in order to revive myself. For this you have my thanks and my gratitude.

Milton breathed rapidly. An alien intelligence living in his head? He must have lost his damn mind. He must have drank the same crazy juice as Jerome! But Milton could not deny the metal objects sticking out of his head, so he had to come to terms with this entity quickly. "What the hell do you want from me?!" He was panicking now. He really didn't like the idea of carrying another intelligence inside his brain that he knew next to nothing about. Relax, Milton Fine. I am embedded in your consciousness so speaking to me out loud is not necessary. I wish to be made whole once again. So I will need you to work on finding and reuniting me with the other pieces of my being as soon as we can find them on this planet. In return I can promise you more knowledge than you could ever dream of. Knowledge of distant worlds and civillizations far more scientifically and technologically advanced than your own. Academically you will be second to no one and you will learn observe things much faster than before. Do we have an agreement, Milton Fine? Milton smiled as he thought about never having to be second in his class to Bruce Wayne or Alexander Luthor again. He could become the top researcher in any field of study he wanted with very little effort at all, and then everyone would come crawling to him for answers. "I think we have a deal Brainiac." Thank you, Milton Fine." Milton's eyes glowed an otherworldly green as he dusted himself off and began absorbing fragmented and incomplete mathematical knowledge that this weakened and incomplete AI could give him.

 

[The Jeffinator]

Werner yelped as he was hit with a face-full of the gas, his vision erupting in a swirl of terrifying hallucinations. He toppled to the floor, thrashing and screaming as he fell through tunnels of fire and angry ghosts ripped at his skin. His heart-rate skyrocketed, his face broke out in a sweat, and he frantically clutched at his throat, feeling like he couldn't breath. After what seemed like forever, the effects finally faded and he pushed himself up to sit against the wall, his head throbbing with a terrible migraine.

“That's what I get for doing business with a lunatic,” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his temples. “That bitch is stark raving mad! Now I have to find a new cook and get some product moving before the investor comes looking for his payment. Aye, Ophelia, I'm afraid you just shat on our business. If I can't pay the investor back, that bitch will be the end of me. Why am I talking as if she was here? Shit, why am I evening talking to myself out loud?” he shook his head and then pushed himself to his feet, trying not to puke. He had to come up with a new plan and fast. The investor expected them to have shipments of Vertigo ready to go soon, but now that Ophelia's paranoia had crippled their new enterprise, Werner was in need of a new partner.

“Damn you, Ophelia,” he mumbled out loud again as he left the house. “This lab wasn't a fucking charity. It was supposed to be a new place of business to meet the demands that our product will create. What do I get out of it? I get rich. We both do. Wasn't that the point of starting this in the beginning? Bah... crazy bitch... Crazy fucking bitch...” He continued to rant out loud, all traces of his former gentlemen persona gone completely.

Meanwhile, back at the school, Bruce continued to listen as Olivia talked. When she asked about his reasons for being there and then began blushing and stumbling over her words, he smiled from ear to ear and chuckled.

“Hey, it's cool,” he said, still laughing. “I don't mind divulging. I used to attend Gotham Academy, when when I was nearing high school age, I decided I wanted to see life outside of the upper class, so I chose a public school instead. I try to see all aspects of life from different viewpoints, but I still love my luxury cars and fancy restaurants. Speaking of which, would you care to join me for dinner one night? I promise to be an absolute gentleman.”

 

[The Jeffinator]

Six months ago...

A black limousine with tinted windows cruised the streets of Gotham under the afternoon sun, while four people sat in the back conversing. One was an older woman in an extravagant dress and matching jewelry, her gray hair tied up in a high bun. Next to her was her bodyguard, a tall, muscular man with a shaved head and short black goatee. He concealed his eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses and was equipped with an ear piece for communicating with the other members of the Madam's private security force. He was dressed in a crisp and clean black suit and tie, and had multiple firearms hidden in various places on his body.

The Madam and her guard sat with their backs to the driver, facing the two other passengers who were sitting in the rear seats. One was Theo Galavan, a tall, thin, clean-shaven man with slicked-back dark hair; the other was considerably shorter and thicker, sporting a beer gut and neatly-combed deep brown hair.

"Madam Kathryn, thank you for seeing us today," Galavan addressed the older woman.

"A pleasure, as always, Theo," she responded cheerfully. She then turned to the shorter man. "I suppose this is your candidate for Mayor?"

"Indeed he is," Galavan responded. "You may be familiar with his name. This is Aubrey James, and he's been Falcone's top lawyer for years."

"Oooh, Mr. James," Kathryn said happily as she extended a hand. "I have indeed heard of you, and I'm glad I can now match a face to the name."

"Thank you, My Lady," James replied. "The pleasure is mine. As Mr. Galavan has stated, I have worked with Carmine for years, and I know the underbelly of this city like the back of my hand. If you need a man at City Hall that will keep the Court's best interest's at heart and possesses the skill and tenure to lead efficiently, that man is me."

"That may be true," Kathryn replied, "But you will be in the public eye now more than ever. It might be wise to distance yourself from the Falcone family."

"Yes, that is part of the plan," James responded. "Carmine and his family are leaving Gotham till December. They are going to be spending the rest of the year at their vacation home in Miami Beach. Sal Maroni will be taking the reigns of the Organization for now, and once I announce my candidacy I will launch a very public war against organized crime. Maroni is going to set up several false jobs for me to bust to earn favor with the public, and then when I am elected Mayor in November, I will appoint a Police Commissioner who stands with us."

"Very good," Kathryn said with a smile. "Once you have started to gather some steam with the media, the Court will arrange for several of the companies we control to officially endorse your candidacy."

"Thank you, My Lady," James bowed.

"Oh, quite the gentleman. Kathryn is fine," she said as she blushed. The Madam then turned back to Galavan. "And what of our other project? The Cassidy child?"

"I'm afraid he has yet to unveil his true potential," Galavan replied. "He is rather close to Zatara, so it's possible that fool of a magician is suppressing the boy's demonic nature. I recommend we arrange an attack on his home and possibly the murder of his family. The pain of that trauma may cause the demon to rear its ugly head."

"No, no," Kathryn waved off the suggestion. "We shall not make a move against him at this time. We must use the same tactic with him that we use against these bothersome masked vigilantes running around our city -- bide our time. To act prematurely and without a strategy would risk exposing us."

"Very well, then," Galavan said as he bowed his head. "I'm just eager to see Lord Neron rise once more."

"As are we all," replied Kathryn.

"Is there no other way?" asked James. Kathryn shook her head.

"The boy is the only path," she replied. "Neron and the other Demon Lords were all cast into the Vale of Mists centuries ago by the Shadowpact. The Vale is a dark and distorted reflection of the Mortal World, allowing those imprisoned there to see and hear into our world, but never touch it or interact with it except through dreams and visions."

"Forgive me, I'm very new to all this mystical shit," replied James. "But how does this boy help bring Neron back again?"

"He is the Son of Neron," Kathryn answered. James' eyes grew wide. "He doesn't know this, of course. Hell, we didn't even know it until very recently. Neron came to the Prophet in a dream earlier this year and revealed he had managed to possess a human male long enough to conceive a child with the man's wife. That child was nearing adulthood and Neron advised the Prophet to have the Court keep an eye on him for signs of his demonic nature surfacing."

"So once he achieves his true powers, Neron can return?"

"Not in his original body," explained Kathryn. "He used up most of his strength just breaking through enough to possess the man in the first place. It left him weak and broken. But the boy can be used as a vessel easily, as his soul is tainted by Neron."

"And then he can begin producing more heirs," added Galavan. "Each one born will have a sliver of Neron's soul within them, and so once there are enough of these shards, they can be ripped out of their vessels and sewn together to reform his original complete soul within the Cassidy boy's body. Once that happens, his consciousness will transfer permanently to the boy, bypassing the barriers of the Vale."

"Wow..." James replied in awe.

"Indeed," Kathryn said with a smile.