Amidst Chaos: A Gotham City Impostors Fiction

[Onecanofsprite]

Updates every Friday!
This is gonna be a weekly updated story following a group of university students as they enlist into the Bats to try and fight the ever growing crime in Gotham's streets. Follow the exploits of Travis, Laura, Joe and Roland as they turn from Super Zeros to Super Heroes.

Contents
Prologue - The Beginning of the Night (In this post)
Chapter 1 - Average Joes
Chapter 2 - Lecture Lockdown
Chapter 3 - Unexpected Invitation
Chapter 4 - Restless

Prologue - The Beginning of the Night
It was a cold, bitter night. Little stirred in the streets of Gotham, as it was unusually quiet for such an active town. A lanky, thin man leaned against a wall of an apartment block, checking his watch. 20:45. He wore a thin red blazer and trousers, with a black t-shirt and white tie inside of it. His hair was rather outgrown and blonde, and he wore a thick pair of customised, jagged sunglasses which covered most of his expressions. He sighed, and stared up at the sky.

"Damn it, you said you'd be here. Where the devil are you?" He mumbled furiously. He had found it peculiar that his client had asked for such a specific place and such a specific time, but the man had thought nothing of it at the time. He heard something rattling down the street, and he snapped his head back down. Just an old car. Get a grip of yourself. They can't have caught on yet. Nobody's after you.

Another sound. A door slamming shut and a cat crying. The tall man took a deep breath, clearly unnerved by these noises. He took a brief look around his environment. It was still as quiet and still as ever. He walked forwards a few paces, checking the alleyways. They were empty, too.

"Screw it, I'm not staying around for this git." He mumbled to himself, as he began to stroll home. He had his head down to the floor, and hardly saw the large, bulky man in front of him that he bumped into down the road. He was a bright and colourful man with a less then colourful appearance: He wore a flower over a green and purple t-shirt and trousers, and wore clown face paint, with a spiked up green haircut.

"Ya' lookin' for sommun'?" The man-mountain spoke barbarically. After taking a few minutes to decipher what he had said, the tall man's nerves began to kick in.

"Oh, n-no. I was just walking through. That's all." He said, trying to walk around the man.

"Ya' sure? You wa' leanin' on that wall for a while now."

"Yeah, well I'm not looking for them anymore, ok? Now, can I ple-"

"You're not going any where, sir." A more sinister, high pitched voice squeaked. A shadow emerged from an alleyway of a small, disfigured man with an Uzi. He wore a green vest and purple shorts, and wore matching face paint and haircut as the huge man. "We know why you're there. Our boss put quite the large bounty on ya head. Dead or alive. Preferably DEAD."

"I get it... you’re part of the Jokerz, aren't you?"

"Well gee officer, ya got us there." The larger man chuckled.

"A bunch of lowlife punks who seek nothing but watching this town to burn. Yet you cowardly run back into the cracks of society under the cover of your lives when Batman returns. You're pathetic. You think carrying around guns and terrorising innocent civilians makes you a 'hard man'. It doesn't. It makes you a coward." The red suited man said, pointing at the two of them, whilst backing up.

"We try. You got a point?" The tiny man said arrogantly. "It's a reaaal good thing that's a red suit.’Cause it's about to get a whole lot more red on it."

The red man said nothing, but backed up slightly. He threw his hand into his pocket, and threw down a small canister. A blinding explosion lit the place up and covered his forward roll into an alleyway. As he expected, the small man started spraying his bullets at thin air. "Not today, clowns!"

"Damn it! I thought WE were meant to be the bad guys here! The ones that are supposed to be using those! After him!" The small man squealed, rubbing his eyes frantically. The thin suited man ran straight into a dead end. Kicking the wall, he ducked behind a skip, and drew out his revolver carefully. He watched the entrance carefully.

"I got a bullet just for you..." He muttered. The large man thundered in carrying an old Army surplus M60. The slender man looked in awe as he brandished it, furiously darting his eyes down the alley for his target. The suited man wasted no time trying to disable the weapon, shooting it dead centre with precision. Startled, the giant of a man fumbled and dropped his gun, flipping a pistol out of his pockets and pointing it out at the skip. The tiny man from earlier had joined in the showdown.

"Why do you even bother assisting... no wait, resisting... us? Submit, your life's over!"

"Well, clearly I have the upper hand with this here piece of cover. So how about you drop your weapons, and walk away?"

"Or... maybe ya can drop yours! Unless you have some kind of effed up alliance plan, you're toast!"

The tall man's eyes widened. He dropped his weapon, raised his arms and stood up. "Actually..."

A young adult viewed the situation from the above apartment block. Such a showdown was a common sight around this area at night, but to see it resolved this way was not. He had wrapped himself in his bed sheets and his pitch-black hair was wildly uncontrolled. He had a rough stubble, and had had trouble mustering the effort together just to get out of bed and watch the scene below. The rest of the people in the room were fast asleep as usual, though normally they'd be woken up at this time of night by the gunshots from earlier. The larger Joker stared up at him from below.

"Hey! What da fook are you lookin' at?" He yelled. The boy, Travis, didn't shift, glaring back with his half closed eyes. He yawned lazily, and shuffled back to bed, wrapping himself in his bed sheets once more in an attempt to get to sleep again.

"Meh. Same ****, different day..."

Next Chapter: Meet our heroic cast!

[Comin_4_U]

oh this is better than any book I've ever read in school! you got a reader in your hands bro! thumbs up for you!

[Onecanofsprite]

Critique'd be appreciated, please.

[TheNubcakeKing]

I like how you used lines from the game and body types, but a speedy couldn't beat another speedy and a mighty. :P

[Onecanofsprite]

I like how you used lines from the game and body types, but a speedy couldn't beat another speedy and a mighty. :P

Actually, lanky guy wasn't really intended to be a Speedy, more of a male Nimble. I tried to make him taller to counter balance his thinness.

[Onecanofsprite]

Critique, pl0x

[the_hobe21]

lots of talking. i like how at the end it was shown to just be a random confrontation one of your main characters witnessed.

check out my own new 12-part story, Mighty Mike: A Jokerz' Journey if you're interested.

[Onecanofsprite]

Thanks for the feedback man! I'll give it a look.

[Onecanofsprite]

Quick advanced word of warning: This week's update will arrive on the Sunday, since I'm on holiday and there's no chance of being able to write it in time.

[Onecanofsprite]

Chapter 1: Average Joes
16th July 2012, 7:59 AM
Note: If you see 'Theme', then that's a piece of music I believe is fitting to the scenario. Give it a listen and give me feedback, since I believe it might enhance the mood better.
Theme
The morning following that fateful night would deceive any onlooker. One would assume this was just a home to a group of University students who enjoyed nothing more then living the lives of average teenagers: Rebellious and care-free. But, truth be told, this is far more then that. Every legend has a hero, and every hero has a beginning. This is our beginning. This is the tale of 4 people who would change the streets of Gotham forever.

It was a moderate-to-fair morning in the apartment. A light breeze outside passing through the alley billowed the curtains on the other side of the room of a sleeping figure. The apartment itself was rather average; 4 bedrooms, a living room with a built in kitchen, a bathroom, and an entrance hallway connecting them all together. They lived on the 2nd floor of the 6-storey building owned by the local Gotham University. The room mentioned earlier was in a state of disorder. Some clothes lay scattered across the floor along with a few magazines and newspapers. The drawers were left half open, some clothes having missed them and were lying in a creased pile on the floor. The TV in the room was still switched on, buzzing away at static. The bed wasn't much tidier either. It was scrunched up and wrapped around its user, whose uncontrolled hair was in need of a cutting. The young man's stubble was growing out of place, too. For a Computing student, he seemed more fit to be out on the streets then in a university.

Theme
This man was Travis Oniji, and he had constantly been warned by the University that his grades were flunking and that he needed to get his act together, lest he fail and move on into the world with nothing to show. Travis hadn't always been the lazy kid he was presently, but he had always been down on luck and on love. He was an orphan that had spent only a small amount of time in care: He ran away from the orphanage at the age of 7 to educate and live by himself in Gotham. He lost his father in a car crash months before birth: His mother passed away under similar circumstances when he was just 2 years old. He had never fully understood what happened to them and why their deaths were so similar, but as time passed on his outlook on the world began to deteriorate along with his personality. He became more laidback and easy going, and less trusting of the world around him. Rumor had it that the University took him up merely out of pity, and partly to try and turn his life around. So far, it had failed. His nature infuriated some of his best friends at times, on several occasions nearly leading to him being kicked out of the student apartment.

The blissful silence of the room was ceased by the TV flickering into life. A well dressed businessman tapped a few sheets of paper in order on the desk, before confidently delivering the headlines.

"Good morning, this is the Gotham Music Station 8 o'clock news. Our top stories tonight: Famous news reporter Jake Hargreaves is reported as missing by the Gotham Times. His works include articles exposing the mindsets of various criminal organisations and terrorist organisations, earning him various journalism awards."

Travis poked his head out from underneath his sheets, his eyes instantly wishing he hadn't bothered. Ugh. Shut Up. I haven't got any lectures until half 11. Can't you just let me sleep for once? Travis' demands were getting him nowhere. He dragged himself out of bed begrudgingly and shuffled across to the TV set.

"As various members of the Gotham Police Force face corruption charges, Vigilantism is on the rise in many locations such as Gotham Docks, Ace Chemic-" The TV blinked off as quickly as it had been turned on. Travis let out a long sigh, before he scratched his head and headed to the living room wearing his dressing gown. He walked towards the counter which faced the entrance and rifled through the cupboards for his breakfast. He pulled out a box of Cornflakes and began to pour them out. A youth slightly younger then him turned his head on the settee which divided the kitchen and the living room. He was much more well dressed then Travis, but looked like the kind of man that'd blend in in a crowd easily.

Theme

"Morning." He said casually, studying the TV headlines. He had a light tone of contempt in his voice. "I take it you being up so late last night wasn't searching for your cut of the rent you still owe us, right?"

Travis muttered an expletive under his breath whilst measuring out his milk. He slowly paced towards the seat furthest away from the man.

"What'll this be, the... 3rd month in a row you haven't put anything in?" The man was named Joe. He wasn't anything out of the ordinary on surface value: Just a rational, hard-headed and practical business student. His father owned a large corporation, to which he had mixed opinions about. He always reserved contempt for Travis because of how hard he had worked to get into university and achieve his grades, yet Travis had hardly ever gone to a proper school before. Joe looked like he was about to make another remark when the door slammed open, and a hearty voice called out.

"HIYO!" It bellowed throughout the apartment. A portly man carrying a large bag of Cheesy Triangles and a 2 litre bottle of Vigor Chug whilst quietly singing an old Motto for the product. "Chug it downnnn, without a frown..." One look at the man would tell you the most obvious thing: He was clearly a fan of comic books. Nearly all of his attire was related to super heroes: A Superman T-shirt, appropriately hidden behind a half-zipped Batman hoodie. He wore a black trilby and sunglasses on his head, and a pair of cargo pants with a batman logo pattern on them. His mere presence seemed to brighten up the atmosphere. "All rise in the presence of the Coooool Lord Roland, 'cause this party is just gettin' started, baby!" He swung his hips lightly as he seemed to dance through the living room. Joe sighed lightly, smiling.

"Man, do you even watch the news, Roland? There's eff all to be so happy about right now, y'know."

"Well Joe, if it don't concern me, there's no point in hearing it." Roland laughed back. It was hard to take any conversation with him seriously.

"Yeah, but this IS relevant to us. And like Joe said, it's no laughing god damn matter." Travis replied, clicking his fingers. Roland was a living definition of happy, which made him utterly affable, and times hilarious. Roland came from a military family, where both his parents were enlisted in the navy. As such, he never really spent time with them when he was younger, Comic books and video games filling the void they had left for him. He always seemed to have quite a large amount of money with him, so he'd saved Travis from a few occasions where he was short of money. He could never find himself getting angry at anyone, and merely saw Travis' pessimistic and care-free attitude a challenge.

"Roland, can you keep it down in the future? I was trying to get some sleep..." A calm, young voice muttered. The group turned around to face it. A girl, probably the youngest of the four by a few months, stood at the door way wearing a scarlet coloured dress to match her auburn hair. She wore a small golden charm around her neck which resembled a fox. Her name was Laura. At first, when she decided to move in with the three strangers, they couldn't believe their luck - she was pretty, young and sassy to most of the guys. Not a whole lot was known about her past because she always had avoided the topic when it came up. Laura could seem harsh at times to her colleagues, especially towards Travis at times due to his behaviour.

"Ah jeez, sorry Laura. I thought you were still asleep, my bad." Roland apologised, lowering his head slightly. Laura smiled faintly and left the room again. Joe and Travis had fixed their attention to the TV by now.

"...Bands of vigilantes have been cropping up around town more and more frequently as of late, the Gotham Police Department reports. Two major factions seem to have been formed - a chaotic band of troublemakers that call themselves the 'Jokerz', and a more heroic and just group of 'Bats'. They clearly have been inspired by the hero Batman and his nemesis the Joker, as their attire attempts to mimic their visage, though it varies dramatically. If you see any Jokerz around town, the police report, it is advised that you stay far away from them. These men are armed and dangerous, and their actions are unpredictable. Whilst the Bats have received less negative attention, the police have reminded them that their actions are still illegal, and that they should 'leave the crime fighting to the professionals. And now for the weather, with Carol."

Roland stroked his chin lightly. "A band of Batman impersonators defending the city, huh? Now that I think about it, people did seem to have a different view of me today on the streets. Eh, maybe they thought I was one of the Bats."

"I guess it's absolutely fan f***ing tastic to see the Police are cracking down on these clowns so well." Travis muttered. "Hell, it's good to see that somebody's stepping up to fight off those face paint wearing pricks."

"It's suicide, Travis." Joe said grimly. "Just a more noble one, in some weird way."

"Well, it's not what you are, but what you do that defines you."

Next Time: Slow and Steady