Master Bruce

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

As long as Barry is in the midst of screwing up a good thing, I want to say that Iris should go for the big blue rebound. But unfortunately I can't lend my support to the pairing, as...

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Gotham City, The Narrows
Abandoned Factory
2:01 AM

"...Phil..."

Bringing her hand to her throbbing forehead, Jessica Jones finally regains consciousness after being under for nearly twenty minutes. My eyes are directed outside, between the cracks of light that shine between the wooden boards bolted against the windows, and I try and keep my distance as she recovers. Both in the event that her connection to Poison Ivy hasn't been completely severed and for the sheer fact that I'm not completely sure of how to approach this woman. We hadn't met before tonight, and it was under less than idealized circumstances. For all that she knows, I'm a wanted murderer. For all that I know, she's hiding a past that could indicate criminal misconduct. Worse for me, she possesses power that I can't even begin to comprehend. If she were willing to kill me, she could do it with very little effort. So as Jones manages to slowly push herself into a sitting stance, wincing from the series of welts and bruises that came as a result of a full fifteen minutes' worth of physical trauma that I was forced to inflict, I say nothing and allow her to get a feel for the room. There's no telling what she remembers, if anything.

Besides. I have a much bigger problem, as ACE was quick to alert me. The adrenaline shots are wearing off, and I'm starting to feel the toll that the earlier fight has taken on me. To tell the truth, it's bad - worse than I'd probably even be willing to admit. Broken ribs are a guarantee at this point, a growing sensitivity to light is already confirming the concussion, and I'm bleeding somewhere internally. If I were smart, I'd have left Jones where she lay and have Bruce Wayne checked into Elliot Memorial under the excuse of a car accident, or something sufficient enough to explain this. But I couldn't just leave the situation unattended. If Jones were to be back under Ivy's control, I'd have effectively left a mother and child to their doom. No matter what happens to me, I refuse to allow anyone else to die tonight.

Ontop of that, there's the matter of the police bulletin that Alfred's texted me about. As should have been expected, the conflict between Ivy and I resulted in some massive collateral damage. Half of a small neighborhood was torn apart due to the sheer physical strength of Jones' metahuman abilities. As I feel partly to blame for not being able to contain this, I've already made it a priority to pay for the damages. But the GCPD are en route, and Jones' unconsciousness cost just cost me a considerable amount of time. ACE is tracking their squad units as they advance onto the O'Neil Bridge. It'll only be a matter of minutes, and in my condition, I doubt that I'll be able to pull off the same type of close-range escape as I did the night that I first battled Deadshot.

Which means, as much as I hate to admit it, I may need some help.

"Cuntfucking son of a whore, my head.", Jones mutters to herself in pain, leaning forward. "Haven't felt like this since... Christ, since before the accident. What in the shit happened to---"

That's when she suddenly notices me standing off in the distance. Her eyes go wide and she nearly falls back at the sight of me, spooked out of her mind. I look over my shoulder and glare. But in truth, I can't help but feel a little relieved. It's good to know that the costume's intended effect can still work on someone of her capabilities.

"It's... you."



"Holy fuck, it's really you. You're actually real and not some asinine city-wide prank that the police made up to sell tabloids."

Under the cowl, my eyebrow raises.

"So that's what people think of me."

"...Ahh..."

Still in a bit of a daze and in a tremendous amount of pain, at least for her, Jones slowly pulls herself up with a metal railing against a piece of long-since decommissioned machinery. I take a step away from the window and back into the shadows. All things considered, I should wait a moment before I leave just to be sure of whether or not Ivy's still in there. But the police are still closing in. I'm not used to being stuck between a rock and a hard place, but it seems I've found myself there.

"Try not to move too fast. I don't know how well you respond to head trauma, if you're even able to have that, but you took some considerable punishment."

She scoffs at the remark I made in regards to her power.

Probably something of a touchy subject. I honestly wouldn't know.

"If you consider a hangover to be head trauma, then I've gotten plenty of that. This isn't much worse. Just alot more... all over."

Stumbling ahead, trying to maintain her balance, she takes another look at me and stares, giving less of a fearful reaction and more of a perplexed, borderlining skeptical glare. One that I'm not entirely accustomed to.

"Something wrong?"

"Not at all. Infact, I just talked to another grown man dressed like a flying animal last week. We're total besties."

I narrow my eyes. I'd say it's hardly the time for sarcasm, but I also don't intend to dwell on it. She notices my belt and immediately begins thinking to herself. After a minute, I find myself growing frustrated with her staring and begin to walk in the opposite direction.

"Okay, fine. You don't have to be so sensitive about the outfit. I was just wondering what you carry in that thing."

Looking over my shoulder, I give another look.

"More to the point, I was wondering if you had something specific. Got any cigarettes on you?"

"I don't smoke."

She seems to be more taken aback by that than anything else.

"Jesus. No wonder you have problems."

Shaking my head, I continue on my path towards the other end of the building.

"We don't have time for this. What do you remember about what happened before?"

Jones rubs the back of her head, trying to think.

"Just... noise. Colors, really. Alot of reds and greens blurring into eachother. It was like everything was amplified to eleven. And there was a voice that I've never heard before..."

Suddenly, her face begins to lose it's color. She looks as if she's just triggered a rather traumatic memory.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck. Someone was in my head. No, that can't be. Christ, not again. This can't be happening again..."

I don't know what exactly she's referring to, but it could have something to do with those nine months that she went unaccounted for back in New York. ACE gives me another readout of the GCPD's current distance from the area. Minutes are possibly turning into seconds, depending on traffic and other variables. If I could stall them, somehow, I would. But the Batcycle isn't able to carry out a remote assault on it's own. Not to mention that it'd be torn to pieces if it did by an all-out escalation of gunfire.

"Jones. Focus. We have a situation."

Looking shell-shocked, she nevertheless looks back up at me and pushes whatever she's experiencing back into the recesses of her mind. I know that I'm risking alot in trusting this woman with what little I'm about to impart by itself, but I need her cooperation in order to ensure Zoe Lawton's safety. I can't trust the police to be able to attend to the child, but I'm also in no condition to protect her myself. Jones, however, possesses superhuman strength and inhuman durability. Not to mention flight, a fact of which I'm still trying to process.

"Long story short? Yes, you were taken under the control of a powerful metahuman. Calls herself Poison Ivy. I don't know where she is in Gotham, but she's a player in the underground drug trade. She attempted to use you to kill a young girl named Zoe Lawton."

Jones reacts to the name.

"Lawton... wait, the daughter of Michelle Torres?"

I give a nod, beginning to scale the wall ahead of me. If the GCPD swarm the area, they're likely to be looking for any sign that I was here. It'd be best for everyone if I made my exit sooner rather than later.

"You know her?"

"Not particularly, but I'm starting to remember. I was in the middle of trying to talk her out of leaving town. Her ex-husband is a contract killer. Some piece of shit called..."

"Floyd Lawton. I met him earlier tonight. As of a few minutes ago, he's in police custody."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jones holds her palm to the front of her head, seemingly accepting the reality of the situation. It seems that she does at least care, despite my earlier reservations.

"Did I hurt anyone?"

"The girl? No. But her mother was rendered unconscious. Nothing serious, and an ambulance is on it's way. However..."

Just as I begin to speak, a set of loud sirens from the Gotham City Police suddenly echo out from all around us. Jones immediately makes her way to the windows and looks outside, looking somewhat panicked herself.

Dammit. We had even less time than I'd originally predicted.

"Shit. We need to go. We need to leave right now."

"I was going to say the same, but there's a bit of a complication."

She turns back to me, slightly insensed.

"You're not listening. I'm not like you and in the middle of waging some stupid vigilante crusade. I have a job and a personal life that I'd rather protect from the cops, and everything outside indicates that I'm a living weapon of mass fucking destruction."

I remain silent for a moment, just as the red and blue lights begin to bounce off of my face from outside of the building. While I was concerned with escaping the area for my own sake, Jones' status as a metahuman wasn't something that I'd previously considered. People like her are hunted regularly by government officials, and it'd undoubtedly take a very short amount of time under GCPD custody for an organization to take over. She could disappear overnight for something that wasn't even her fault.

Goddammit.

"I'll make you a deal."

Jones narrows her eyes, unsure of what I'm about to say. I'm not even entirely convinced of what I have in mind myself, but it seems as though that despite my history with the police, I have far less to lose than anyone caught in the middle of this situation.

"Go and get the girl. Take her someplace safe, wait a few days, and ensure that she's reunited with her mother. The cops in this city are on the take and I don't trust them with her. Do this for me and..."

She raises an eyebrow.

"And what?"

I sigh to myself.

This is likely to go down as the most idiotic plan I've ever had.

"I'll cover your escape."

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Ugh. Not super happy with that post, but I was having trouble with it and just had to get it out since I have two collaborations coming up in a row.

@HenryJonesJr

I think pretty much all of us are in the "Eeeh, that could've been better but what the hell, it's posted!" mindset with our own work in this game barring the occasional post we're actually proud of. And we've all just got to accept that roleplayers are a neurotic bunch who'll always be overly hard on themselves no matter what anyone says or likes about it. The important thing is, you posted.

Hell, that's all that's kept me going. I'm still writing my first arc and the season's a month and a half away from closing out. If I stopped to think about how much I wanted to accomplish this season but didn't, I'd curl into a ball and spend all my time lamenting what isn't instead of creating what is.

And I haven't even written a single sex scene. How the hell am I going to compete with Byrd and Wraith this late in the game?!

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

My fiance's mom and sister are in town for wedding dress shopping so I've just sat down for the first time this weekend to work on a post. Have I missed anything important in the OOC?

@HenryJonesJr

Oh shit, you're getting hitched? Congrats! Hopefully your bride-to-be is able stand the amount of TMNT in her future.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Gotham City, East End
81st and W. Barr Street
1:25 AM

"Hey Captain, look! It's the catch of the day!"

The surrounding officers laughed heartily to themselves at the bad joke as a bound, bloodied and gagged Floyd Lawton was lowered from the streetlamp that he'd been tied to via an operating crane. Captain Gordon had just stepped out of the arriving squad car when he'd heard it and had opted to ignore it, choosing instead to focus on the nearby light source that was beaming a certain symbol across the clouds. Several spectators were lined just beyond the police tape, pointing towards the skies and snapping pictures with their cellphones. Gordon pointed to one of the nearby detectives on the scene and eyed the civillians, giving a clear indication that no flash photography was allowed at an active crime scene. That detective nodded and went to work to dissuade the crowd, giving Gordon an opportunity to follow the light source itself. Eventually stopping just short of the nearby building's entrance, the Captain furrowed his brow as he slowly waved a hand over a nearby decorative shrub, catching the light and confirming his suspicions.

"You. I need a pair of gloves.", Gordon requested, holding his hand out to a nearby CSI tech. "Guess we've got another one of these to add to the hundreds back at Evidence Lock-Up."

Putting on the gloves, Gordon reached inside the plant and produced a small gadget that shot up a focused and particularly bright beam capable of sending out what was the equivalent of a spotlight. Of course, most spotlights didn't have a giant bat in the middle of them, but the Captain nevertheless sighed as he reached down, turned a dial clockwise, and switched it off. Holding it up and inspecting it, visually, he already knew damn well that there'd be no usable prints or any other DNA evidence to pull from it. Nor would it match any known patent submitted by either a major or minor electronics company dealing in similar technology.

"Crazy son of a bitch.", Gordon whispered, handing the device off as it was placed into an evidence bag. "Bet you're just well and truly pleased with yourself. Turning this city into your own personal sideshow..."

Whoever The Batman was, he had somehow covered all of these tracks before, so there was no reason to suspect that he'd begin slipping up now. Not that it mattered, Gordon figured, given that Mayor Thorne had signed the order to assemble Dent's proposed task force to capture the vigilante earlier that day. Agent Nashton had already began evaluating worthy candidates, and Gordon couldn't wait to hand the assignment off to the man, as it laid down a concrete time table for this absurdity to finally end. His inner circle didn't nessescarily agree, as they had wanted to be the ones to capture the Bat, but the Captain knew their prides could stand the wound. After all, Precinct 27 had other cases to pursue. More than a few bigger collars out there to bring down. Batman may have been a good case to break for a few headlines, but his capture brought them no closer to the Five Families.

Feeling raindrops hit his forehead, Gordon reached up and retracted his hand to confirm the moisture. A patch of thunder boomed across the skies. Another storm was brewing. Putting up the collar of his overcoat in response, the Captain turned to oversee the Batman's latest victim in the midst of being processed. He even overheard the words 'broken hand' as he approached. But as Gordon got closer, and got a clear enough look at the outfit that the suspect was wearing, he stopped dead in his tracks and stared, eyes wide. Some of the color even drained from the Captain's face.

It was him. The same man that Jim had seen in the video taken the night of the assassination attempt against Dent. The one that The Batman had fought off, who had all-but-clearly been the real culprit of a crime that the GCPD, under his orders, blamed the vigilante for in the press instead. Gordon tensed up as the halfway beaten to death hitman was brought to his feet and immediately placed in cuffs. Despite now knowing that the real sniper was off of the streets, all that Jim could think of was what he would say - or rather, what he would confess - during the subsequent interrogation. And the questions that would be raised if he owned up to being the one to take a shot at the District Attorney.

"I see you got his message, Captain."

Nearly making him jump, Gordon angrily turned towards Agent Nashton, who was in the midst of strolling up with that bizarre green suit, bowler hat, and cane combination that obnoxiously made him stand out from the rest of the force. Seemingly satisfied with their unit's job well done as the man known as 'Deadshot' was hauled away, Gordon narrowed his eyes at Nashton as he tipped his hat to the arresting officers.

"Bit of a hard one to miss.", Gordon replied, his eyes shifting back to Lawton. "He leaves one of these behind every time that he perpetrates an attack. Doesn't matter if it's a mugging gone wrong or a cavalcade of injured triggermen for the mob, he makes sure that we're directed towards his handiwork. Like he's a damned prize fighter who wants to broadcast out to the rest of Gotham whenever he's won a title bout."

Nashton raised an eyebrow.

"An interesting analogy, if not entirely without merit. But I have my suspicions that The Batman doesn't leave this, shall we say, calling card behind because he craves the attention. I would actually say that it's for an entirely different, perhaps even more deluded purpose."

Gordon continued to stare at Deadshot, right up until the criminal was loaded into the back of the waiting squad car. He could feel the mounting guilt in his chest, watching the vehicle drive away. It wouldn't be long, now. People would begin to suspect what had been done, and they'd easily be able to pin it on him. Loeb would have a field day if he even so much as suspected it. The Commissioner had been looking for an excuse to kick Gordon off the force for years, and a potential scandal presented by intentionally blaming an attack against the D.A. on the wrong man would be just what was needed to pull the rug out from under him.

"You're the expert.", Gordon muttered, continuing to look past Nashton. "So by all means, enlighten me."

Nashton immediately seized his cue, not even wasting a breath to relay the theory. It was almost unsettling to Gordon, the way that Nashton revelled in showing off his own intellect. Like a calculated machine that was wearing vaguely human skin, or an outcast that society wouldn't otherwise have whose sole purpose was to celebrate himself as a genius. It gave him a slightly sinister quality, even whenever what he said made sense. And it went beyond just blowing alot of hot air.

"It's hardly a very complicated assertion, Captain. The Batman wishes to project himself as a supernatural force, or a beast of nature that's descended onto the streets. He seeks to intimidate from the darkest corners, but is smart enough to realize that he can't simply exist anonymously in the era of satellite imaging and cellphones. So in choosing the direct opposition to that path, he came up with this as a declaration. A reinforcement of his own myth. He desires for Gotham to see an image of his making, because in his mind, it is a primal manifestation of all that he represents. Perhaps he even believes, in the bowels of his own fractured psychosis, that the symbol represents his status as something above the law."

Lifting his cane, Nashton poked at the badge attached to Gordon's own jacket.

"Very much like this tin monstrosity."

Annoyed, Gordon pushed the cane away and began to walk off.

"So your professional opinion is that he's insane. You intend to file a report on that, along with a dossier explaining how the sky is blue?"

Nashton smirked.

"Amusing. But no, my point is this. Whether or not he even knows it, it's working."

Gordon stopped in his tracks and looked back.

"You seem surprised. But spend so much as an hour on any given social media platform and you'll see that every popular topic involving The Batman includes a headliner image of that symbol. They're starting to print it on t-shirts. There are rumors that a few movie companies want to liscence it out to make him a household name. Public opinion on The Batman is at an all-time high, and I've been struggling to see a downturn in the masses swallowing up these incidents, even in light of what he's been accused of."

Sneering, Gordon turned entirely to face Nashton.

"And that doesn't seem like desperation for attention to you?"

Nashton shook his head.

"The man is alot of things, but a public figure? I doubt Batman would approve, or even so much as pay attention to how others attempt to co-opt his image. If he did, he might be willing to liscense himself out as a toy in kid's meal down at that one gaudy chain of local eateries. What are those called again? Ah, yes.", the Agent replied, looking disgusted. "The 'Condiment King'. I was forced to partake of one of their vegetable burgers just the other evening, and it only confirmed that the garbage that those places peddle out to preening masses are exactly why I've been a vegan since I was twenty."

"How nice for you.", Gordon dryly responded, uninterested in the Agent's dietary habits. "But we have a bigger situation on our hands than debating why The Batman leaves behind that giant spotlight wherever he goes. Did you happen to pay attention to the costume that our perp was wearing?"

Nashton looked upwards, towards the streetlamp that Deadshot had been strung against.

"I did indeed, and I already know what you're going to say. His word is hardly of any relevance."

"Hardly of any relevance?", Gordon snapped back, lowering the volume of his voice. "We just arrested the man that only you and I know tried to kill Dent. If he talks, there'll be questions and accusations to follow. Not to mention alot of blame to shift around, and it's only going to fall back on one source."

Nashton looked at Gordon and sighed.

"Oh please, Captain. Do try and compose yourself. You're overreacting to nothing."

"Nothing?!"

Gordon grabbed Nashton by the collar of his jacket and slammed him against the adjacent building.

"I could lose my job over this! Worse than that, if they can prove it was deliberate! You and your damned idiotic plan could cost me everything, and for what?! To capture one psychopath in a cape?! I should've reported you to Loeb the minute that you suggested we keep this quiet! We're talking about a federal offense, here, and you seem to be entirely unconcerned with the consequences! So I'd say that this is a little more than nothing!"

Despite Gordon's hostility, Nashton remained eerily calm.

"And if you had gone to the Commissioner,", Nashton replied. "Where would that have gotten you?"

Gordon grit his teeth, angrily, but had no response to give. Nashton watched the realization hit him with an immediacy, and leaned forward.

"Go on, Gordon. Tell me what would've happened if your very obscenely corrupt Commissioner of Police would have heard so much as a single negative complaint from you regarding this investigation?", Nashton elaborated. "Or perhaps the more pressing question is, would it have reached his ears... or Sal Maroni's first?"

Releasing the man, Gordon silently cursed himself as he turned around, hoping that nobody had seen his little outburst.

"That is exactly my point. You've been placed into an impossible situation by the rest of this force. You and your entire precinct, infact. And it all hinges on chasing shadows and picking up the scraps that a man in a mask leaves behind. If you actually bought that my sole purpose in Gotham was to apprehend an obstentaciously garbed schitzophrenic and leave it at that, you're as naive as you are impulsive."

Nashton stood up straight and straightened out the creases of his suit.

"I knew that you'd accept my proposal despite the merit of your character, and the result of that decisicion is clearly tearing you up inside."



"It's because despite your assertions about The Batman, desperation is the position that you've been placed in."

Gordon looked over his shoulder, wondering exactly what the Agent meant.

"You're working a seperate assignment?"

"A work-in-progress, more accurately. I'm hoping to present a case to level against the corruption in Gotham to my superiors. The Batman case is merely something I'm tackling at their request, as they wanted to make an example of the recent costume culture that's been giving rise to something the government fears could overthrow them. Frankly, all of that nonsensical paranoia disinterests me. Batman is an easy mark and with the task force at my disposal, he'll be one that you can soon check off of a growing list of this city's true problems."

Gordon looked at the street and off into the distance, wondering if Nashton was telling the truth or playing him for a fool a second time. If what he was saying was his genuine intent, Gordon saw the possibility for an actual alignment within the system that could benefit him. And such a thing was very rare to find, in this city. Nashton had connections, as he clearly displayed the other night by showing Gordon a direct access point into SHIELD's network database. Who those connections were, he wasn't saying, but they were clearly top-level. And if anything could overthrow men like Carmine Falcone and The Penguin, it was government intervention in their illicit activities.

"So before you go and have a mental breakdown over what could potentially happen should this highly unreliable man in with the sniper rifle talk, ask yourself whether or not that it's even going to matter in a few weeks' time. Because should you find yourself in an unfortunate position with Loeb, it'll only add fuel to the fire of the case I'm looking to build. Should you want to help me light it, of course."

Gordon turned back and prepared to respond, only for both men to be interrupted by an all-points bulletin.

"All units, all units, we have a code six-one-six. Metahuman activity reported in The Narrows. The Batman sighted in the area. All units, be advised. Suspect is armed and considered to be extremely dangerous."

His eyes going wide again, Gordon reached up to the radio attached to his jacket and pressed it to the side of his face.

"Copy that. This is Captain Gordon, we're on our way."

Nashton half-smiled.

"Well, would you look at that? It seems as though you really did have nothing to worry about."

Gotham City, The Narrows
Abandoned Lighting Factory
1:35 AM

"All of this hiding. All of that earlier bravado, and what do you have to show for it, little Bat? Just an extra morcel of time before the bitter end. You might aswell show yourself now, while it's less embarassing."

In the ensuing distraction that granted me the leverage that I needed to get to an appropriate vantage point, Ivy's managed to brush off having a building collapse ontop of her host body without so much as a stratch. ACE is hard at work on something of a hail mary, so I can't check on the status of my own injuries, but the pain is still there to remind me. Definitely risking some internal hemmoraging to go along with the broken rib. Mild concussion sustained from one of Jones' attacks, of which I'm fairly certain I'm lucky. The adrenaline shot has returned some of my energy, but I'm of low reserves. All that I need to do is buy myself some time and implement the plan that could very well prove to be a suicidal endeavor. My hand resting atop The Utility Gun, I cycle through the remaining ammo that I have left. Rubber bullets won't do a damned thing to some of Jessica Jones' physiology. Smoke grenades might buy me some time, but I'm saving them for what's to come. Used up the remaining grapple lines and hooks between this fight and my battle with Deadshot. And as I already found out the hard way, a simple taser isn't going to cut it.

I've come to rely a bit too much on the technology I've culminated over these last few months. The body armor, the gadgets, the computer, all of it. I'm afraid that it's rendered me ill-prepared for something of this magnitude. I trained to be a soldier, and this is open combat at it's most extreme. I shouldn't have to rely on tricks that are meant to disorient and terrify the same two-bit hoods that the Five Families use to keep their operations running. I could already tell from the moment that I chose to engage in combat with a known metahuman - this is going to be a learning experience. Provided I live through it, of course.

Keeping myself pressed tightly against the upper floor of the building that I miraculously managed to lure Ivy in Jones' body, I keep a sharp eye out for any sort of conduit that I can use to enact the distraction that I have in mind. Ivy's at the bottom floor, scanning the area. It's impossible to know whether or not Jones possesses the ability to see in the dark, but I think it's unlikely. I'd already be dead. Eventually, she moves on and begins to toss heavy machinery out of her own way like it was made of paper. With each crashing sound, I advance to the left a little quicker. I just noticed that there's a circuit breaker on the level just below me. Might be just the sort of thing I need right now.

Using the same trick that I utilized against Deadshot to throw my voice to the other side of the factory, I confirm my prescence in a bid to keep Ivy distracted.

"I've found that the shadows have always been more inviting."

Ivy turns, her clearly agitated features represented in Jones' face.

"It's funny, I just had a conversation about this very subject recently, with the trigger-man. You and I are of a different breed. You need the darkness because it fits into the whole giant winged mouse thing that you have going on. I can respect that. But plants require a light source, and I intend to cast a very bright light onto Gotham that will make the rest of it grow in tune, in the only way that it should. Under my thumb."

Taking my chance as she's thrown by the direction that the voice modulator emulated, I drop down onto the second floor platform as silently as possible. Slowly, I approach the circuit breaker and peel off the aluminum covering. I take a step back and shield my face from the resulting dust cloud, not wanting to risk giving myself away with a sneeze. And immediately begin to switch on the lights, the circuits leading into the equipment, and every electrical power source that I can possibly identify. The factory lights up beneath me with a brightness that forces even Ivy to shield herself from.

"Funny. I was just thinking of the old addage. Be careful what you wish for."

Adjusting her eyesight to fit the brightness of the room, Ivy laughs to herself, scanning the upper floors again. This time, it's harder for me to stay hidden. So I don't attempt to do so, despite every instinct that I have telling me that it's a bad play. Instead, I leap atop the metal railing and allow my cape to drape over me, staring her down and hiding just what I've got to use against her. ACE has a little under a minute to go. I can only hope that it's enough to keep me alive.

"Very bold of you, little Bat. I see that in your final moments of living, you've embraced my way of thinking. A wise move, all things considered.", Ivy taunts. "It's such a shame that in doing so, you sealed your own fate. Just such a shame. I was starting to enjoy this."

Immediately grabbing a piece of machineary that's three times larger than my own body by it's hinges, Ivy uses Jones' strength to rip it from the ground and immediately hurtle it towards me. Diving ahead, I just barely manage to escape being crushed as it smashes through the metal platform and sends an array of sparks and electricity flying throughout the area. Grabbing onto a nearby ledge, I vault over it and toss out a series of batarangs. Not because I think that they stand even remotely of a chance to hurt Jones, but because I need the extra window of time and the number of distractions are becoming limited.

One slices through Jones' jacket, but doesn't draw blood. Another heads directly for her face, to which she grabs out of mid-air and squeezes, rendering the titanium finish to the projectile as nothing more than a mess of twisted, misshapen metal. The third and fourth, she smacks at, sending them flying across the room. The fifth grazes her across the cheek, but it also does nothing to hurt her. The sixth and final batarang comes flying at her from a lower trajectory, and she attempts to block it with her hand.

To my absolute surprise, that one actually illicits pain, as she gasps and clutches the side of her hand. The fingerless gloves that Jessica Jones is wearing seem to stain with a small trace of blood, even. And that's when it hits me - that hand was the same one that she used to catch the bullet meant for Harvey Dent. Deadshot used a high powered round to try and pull off the kill. She's not invulnerable, after all. Just immensely powerful and very hard to hurt.

"Having trouble?", I call out. "Maybe you picked the wrong body. She's strong, but not as invincible as you probably thought."

"Arrogant worm,", Ivy growls, lowering the bloodied hand. "I'll show you just how strong this body really is. Or perhaps more accurately, how very multi-faceted..."

Assuming a stance that I haven't seen before, Ivy utilizes Jones' body to begin building up some kind of force beneath herself. The factory rumbles, not unlike a small earthquake, forcing me to hit the ledge with a hard fall. Reaching up to get my bearings, I lean against the metal railing of this platform and pull myself up...

...Only to be staring Jessica Jones directly in the face.

Hovering above me, not unlike a predatory animal waiting to feast upon it's prey.

Christ. She can fly.

"It seems that Miss Jones has quite a number of gifts you probably weren't aware of.", Ivy threatens, as she hovers closer. "I'm going to enjoy testing out as many of them as I can in the midst of your evisceration."

Despite the overwhelming shock of this unwelcome new development, I sneer back at the woman who intends to kill me in with a measure of defiance. Making sure to back away towards the railing behind me as I do.

"Perhaps. But all that depends on if you can catch me."

Intentionally pushing myself over the ledge, I reach out and grab another railing to help swing me up into arc. Ivy turns in mid-air and flies after me as I somersault into the air and spread my cape so that the para-glider fibers activate. It propels me into a glide, which I use to dodge the oncoming Jones as she tries to snatch me from the air.

Heading directly for a wall, I maintain my glide into an upwards swoop and kick off of the concrete, backflipping off of it just as Ivy directs Jones directly through the concrete itself.

Now or never, Bruce. You're not gonna get an opportunity like this again.

"Ace! I need a status update!"

Your request is currently standing at 98% proccessed, Mr. Wayne.

Ninety-eight percent. A precious few seconds to complete, as long as the connection remains established. And given I'm running ACE off of a telecommunications fiber hook-up connected to a satellite with internet speeds well past FCC standards, but hidden on a private databank, that doesn't seem likely anytime soon.

Rushing to the main power generator of the factory, which I've isolated through my heat-signature lenses, I leap forward and slam my boot into the access panel, giving it a proper dent. Using both hands and as much strength as I can bring forth to rip open the steel containment door, I kick the rusted hinges apart as hard as possible until I can feel it loosening. Then, with a pull that's even harder than before, I remove it and stand aside, leting it fall to the ground with a loud clang.

As this happens, Ivy bursts back through the other side of the wall, hovering above the factory entrance and glaring down at me. I don't look back, even though I know that she'll be on me in a matter of seconds. Instead, I get to work in unhooking as many of the power cables to the generator as I can, attaching them to the wiring inside of the hidden panels of both my gauntlets.

There's a decent amount of insulation in my suit to prevent an electrocution, but there's only going to be so much for me to work with. And with the power I hope to generate, I had better pull this off as quickly as possible.

Just as I finish, I feel an iron-tight grip wrap itself against the back of my skull. Ivy tosses me aside, mercifully unaware of the cables attached to my gauntlets or what purpose that they serve. After staring me down in a hover, she lands, clearly ready to end this once-and-for-all.

"Enough games. Enough taunts or playful banner. You're becoming too persistent in living, and I can't have that."

I simply watch as the progress meter that ACE is feeding me finally reached 100%. It took some time, given that this model of the A.I. wasn't meant to be able to crack such a heavily fortified firewall so soon, but I finally managed to break into the Gotham City Power Grid. ACE immediately allocates the specified amount of electricity that I requested into the generator of this factory, making my gloves begin to glow with an electrical pulse.

Given that I already tried the shock gloves, I figured it was past due for me to try them again. But with a hell of alot more potency. Rubbing my fists together to build a charge as if they're emergency room paddles, I push myself to my feet as Ivy looks around, confused at the flickering lights infront of her.

"What you have..."

Getting to my feet, I immediately charge her with a hard uppercut. The power that's coursing through my gloves is enough to send Jones' body flying back, in contrast to every previous attempt that I made to land an attack.

"Doesn't concern me!"

I won't lie in admitting that it feels good. It feels pretty damn good, actually, aftering hearing Ivy's incesscent taunting throughout this. But one punch isn't going to solve this. Using the non-electrified palm of my glove to produce The Utility Gun, I switch the setting to smoke pellets and fire off a succession of them just as Ivy pushes Jones' body back up. I already tried smoke once with her, and had minimal effect. But if I keep her distracted, that won't matter. The goal in this isn't to beat Ivy. It's to get through to Jessica. To give her back the power over her own actions.

"Jessica Jones!", I call out, with electricity flying from my knuckles. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm asking you to trust me! You're capable of fighting this off, but you have to focus!"

As soon as she emerges from the smoke, I deck her across the face with another highly electrified punch. She falls hard against the ground. Which is hardly surprising, given that I'm using half of Gotham City itself to fight against her.

"Think, Jessica!", I continue. "I've read up your file! I know that you're a private investigator! You specialize in cases of female abuse, so I know that you came here to help a woman and her child, and nothing more!"

Ivy glares up at me with hatred and slams a fist into my chest. I go flying back into an abandoned workstation, nearly feeling as though my chest cavity wants to cave in under the pressure. But I fight through it, as she advances on me.

"I also know why you came to Gotham! You have time that's unaccounted for in New York! Nine months!"

Ivy stops. Though at this point, I'm not entirely sure that it's Ivy whose in control.

"You never went to the police! You disappeared without a trace, and yet you decided it'd be better to move across state lines than to face what happened! You were afraid of something, Jessica! What was it?!"

The green begins to fade from her eyes, and she grasps at her forehead with both hands, seemingly beginning to fight off Ivy's influence. There's a trauma, there, that I stumbled onto in reading up on the SHIELD dossier that Alfred gave me. The one that included all of the redacted information from Jones' childhood.

About how she wasn't born with these abilities, but acquired them through some form of experimentation as a teenager. How she wasn't even born Jessica Jones, but Jessica Campbell. A change made to her name after a horrific car accident rendered her an orphan and placed her under foster care.

I know what it's like to carry at least one of those burdens. It can be a powerful trigger to bring forth memories imprinted on the mind's eye whenever it's brought back to the forefront. That's what I'm counting on to bring Jones back from this.

"No, damn you! Damn you, I won't let you have her!"

Enraged, Ivy smashes Jones' fist against the floor, creating a crack that leads directly to me. I roll out of the way as the surrounding machineary explodes, sending me flying forward. Ivy grabs me by the back of my armor and tosses me ahead, sending me directly into another wall. By the time I fall to the ground, she's already bringing out her fist to smash me into the pavement. Starting to lose my window of opportunity.

"You had a brother!"

Jones' eyes widen, and the green almost completely fades from them.

That's it.

That's the key.

"He died in the car accident. What was his name, Jessica?", I ask, pushing myself to stand. "Think! What was your brother's name?! You know the answer, not her! Think about that day! Think about your last memory of him when he was alive! What was his name?!"

At first, the eyes go green again.

"What makes you think that I give even somewhat of a damn about this girl's corpse of a..."

But a single tear begins to flow down one of the eyes.

Jones is starting to break through.

"...His name..."

Now both sets of eyes are tearing up, as she begins to pound at the sides of her temples.

"Goddammit. His name. What was his..."

She stops.

"Phillip."

Jones turns back to me, the tears streaming down her face.

"His name was Phillip."

I don't know what to say to her. I try and reach out for some measure of support, but hesitate whenever I see the green begin to subtlely appear within her irises. Ivy's still in there, and despite what I had previously believed, no amount of willpower is going to sever the connection. I'll have to do something even more drastic.

"Listen. We're running out of time. Your mind has been coerced by a powerful metahuman that calls herself Poison Ivy. If I'm going to break her hold over you, I need your permission to do something that you're not going to like."

Jones rubs the tears away, still shell-shocked from the memories I brought flooding back, and silently nods.

"I'm going to have to knock you out."

Closing her eyes, she lets out a heavy, pained sigh.

"Just get the bitch out of my head."

Preparing my gloves once again, I steel myself for something that's going to take alot of work. And alot of strength that I don't have. The electricity brightens as I close my fists together, watching as Jones readies herself for a beating that she has to endure without putting up a fight.

It doesn't give me any measure of comfort to do this, but it's for the greater good.

And if I can free Jessica Jones from the prison she's currently found herself in, I'll take whatever chance I have to.

"I'm sorry."



"This is the only way."

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

I've always been more of a Mario person.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

I came just thinking about it from several thousand miles away.

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Genuinely can't wait for this post.

@BlackSam3091

It'll be a sex scene so graphic and so full of superhuman fetishizing that we'll all go, "Lord Wraith who?"

CLOSED - Ultimate One Universe: Season One

Gotham City, The Narrows
West District
1:20 AM

KRASH!

"Oh, my. I think you might have actually felt that."

When I had originally set out to clean up the streets of Gotham, I found myself up against a sea of filth. The Five Families. The pushers, the muggers, the rapists and the murderers that lined their pockets. The Royal Flush Gang and other extremists that sought to terrorize the innocent and capitalize on the corrupt nature that allows them to spill blood on the streets. All in all, criminals that I could understand. That I had even been arrogant enough to tell myself that I could tackle head-on after a decade of training in some of the most remote parts of the world. So it comes as no surprise that in the five minutes that I've been desperately trying to stay alive in a fight against a metahuman whose actions are currently being controlled by another, more sadistic metahuman with intent on murdering an innocent girl for the crime of being born to an assassin whose contract I prevented from being carrying out, that I've been asking myself one question: How in the hell was I ever supposed to prepare for this?

Weakly, perhaps even stupidly, I push myself to my feet after being tossed through the wall of an abandoned tenament building that lies just a few blocks away from the Torres household, where this initially began. To my own credit, I've done the job of keeping Jessica Jones distracted, despite her being the current thrall of a woman calling herself Poison Ivy. But at a cost, as Ivy's utilized Jones' considerable strength and durability to curtail every single attempt that I've made to utilize the shadows of the area and turn the battle to my favor. ACE prompts a series of warnings in my peripheral HUD, telling me of possible fractures or a broken rib that I've already suffered. I ignore it all, aswell as the pain.

Within seconds of recovery, Jones bursts through a section of the wall herself. Her eyes glowing green, she pushes herself off of the ground and leaps into a massive arc that ends with her hands around my throat. Desperate to keep from passing out, I try and re-activate the shock gloves that gave out whenever their reserve power source was eventually cut short. To no avail, as Jones simply laughs in Ivy's voices and lifts me into the air, tossing me aside as if I were nothing more than a piece of the debris that surrounds us. My back smashes into a wood panelling set up in the midst of construction, and I fall backward, continuing to drift into a daze.



The scenario is grim. I'll be the first to admit that. I'm in way over my head this time, and no amount of work with my fists are going to do the job of pulling me out of a tighter spot than I'm used to. Metahumans were never meant to be something that I'd have to contend with, let alone exist in the first place. But no sooner did I embark on all of this did the rise of their kind begin across the country. When I was a child, this was the stuff of myth and popular culture. Now I'm being pummeled to death for assuming it was always meant to stay that way.

"I hope you realize that for every second you waste time I could be using to kill the sapling that her idiot father spawned by continuing to breathe, I'm only going to make this harder on you.", I hear from across the room, despite my ears beginning to ring. "But I'm not entirely without compassion. Walk away now, and you'll only end up a cripple. Which is considerably better than the alternative."

My hand shaking, I nevertheless grab a handful of flash grenades from the back of my belt and palm them behind my cape, using my other hand to grab onto a nearby concrete slab and pull myself up again. Stumbling through the hole that she just made using my body, I defiantly glare back, despite a combination of blunt force trauma and disorientation feeding into exhaustion. Need to come up with a different strategy than this. I can appear as willing to keep the fight going all that I want, but I'm eventually going to buckle. If Ivy doesn't outright decide to just tear me in two, right here and now.

"I-I'm not... giving you... the pleasure."

"Jones" cocks her head, almost as though Ivy is commending my effort.

"You have a surprising tenacity, I'll give you that. Most men like you would have taken that offer without hesitation just to spare themselves. Maybe even bargained for their life with a number of useless bribes. I've even had a few even get on their knees for the occasion."

Feeling the copper taste of blood reach the back of my throat, I swallow it back. Any internal injuries aren't entirely out of the question, but ACE is performing a continual scan of my body as instructed to keep me informed. In the event that I truly find myself closer to death's door.

"I'm not...", I don't so much respond as gasp. "Most men."

"Ivy" smiles.

"That's hardly a boast in your favor. You're all made from the same, breakable stuff. The soft meat. The brittle bones. The oh, so vulnerable organs. With this body, it's only a matter for me to try and decide which I want to obliterate first."

She takes a step forward, unintimidated. My grip on the flash grenades grows tighter.

Just a little closer.

"Why are... you doing this? Any of it?", I ask. "There've been reports about you for... months. You target the weak. You exploit the... vulnerable. A woman of your power. Doesn't... make sense."

Rolling her eyes, she places her arms infront of her chest.

"Typical. A man sees a woman in power, he asks her why she has the gall to seize it. But if the roles are reversed, it's almost expected. Business as usual, or so they say. But I say that you've all had your chance.", she angrily responds. "The minute I discovered that I had these gifts, I began to commune with the real power of this planet. The power that your kind neglected as you built civilizations meant to fall to ruin. Mother nature was never meant to sustain you, so you poison it's air, rip out it's crops, and kill it's forests. Like bitter weeds, you bring this planet closer to extinction. I've simply decided to rip out the cancer at it's source."

Cracking Jones' knuckles, she smirks to herself and takes another step.

"But then, why shouldn't I have a bit of fun in the process?"

She's definitely insane. There's no question of that. But gullible is another matter entirely, and one that I intend to risk finding out right now. Just as she moves into position, I distract her with a raised fist that she expects to catch. The other hand moves swiftly, tossing out the flash grenades in succession. Closing my eyes, I vault backwards over a half-completed wall and listen in as they detonante.

"AAAAAAAAAAA!"

If I were strong enough to do it, I'd smile. Jones may be strong and incapable of sustaining much conventional damage, and Ivy may be able to control the will of the strongest person in the room, but I suspeced that when combined, they both still have to rely on their senses to be effective. It'll give me a momentary distraction at best, but that's all I need to stay alive. Producing a grapple, I take it and fire upwards, snagging a recently installed support beam. Spotting a wench, I immediately take the other end of the line and attach it. It takes all of my effort, but I manage to get the wench to reel the line in a quick succession. The beam immediately begins to whine, signaling my chance to exit. A chance that I take, diving through an open section of the adjacent wall.

By the time Ivy realizes what's happening, still rubbing at Jones' blinded eyes, the entirety of the structure collapses in on itself and buries Jones in a few feet worth of broken concrete. Enough to kill someone of my durability, but only enough to slow her down even further. Firing another grapple at a nearby building, I ascend into the air and weakly climb onto a nearby roof. I need a strategy for when she comes bursting out. Time to consult a second opinion. Tapping the side of my cowl, I disregard using ACE to secure the line and manually connect back to The Cave.

"A-Alfred."

"Good timing, lad, I've been trying to reach you. The computer's been relaying the results of your current condition over the past fifteen minutes. Multiple contusions, fractures. What in the devil are you up against?"

Watching the concrete beginning to shift as Jones' strength gets to work, I back away and try to make myself as hidden from view as possible. I can only hope that she doesn't possess some form of superhuman hearing.

"Our mystery woman from earlier. She's... involved in this.", I explain. "But she doesn't know it. Another meta's taken control of her mind. Using her power against me. I need..."

"To get as far away from the area as possible? I daresay I agree, Bruce. This isn't a fight you're likely to win."

I shake my head, vehemiently denying that approach. If I run to try and save myself, Zoe Lawton is dead. It's as simple as that.

"I know that. But she's targeted a girl. Need to keep the pressure up, and I have to have an edge."

Turning, I limp forward until I can lean against a chimney. There are still a number of adrenaline shots waiting in my belt. I can get a second wind out of this, but it'll be useless if I don't go in with a plan.

"When you were in SHIELD. You had experience with... hypnotism, right?"

Alfred pauses.

"Hypnotism? If you're asking if I can give you insight in the controlled mind, the answer is no. But hypnotism is something else entirely, given that I used to hold regular interrogations. It isn't as though we were instructed to wave a watch infront of anyone's face, as there are methods of focusing the subject's attention, which is all that hypnotism generally is. A refocused constitution made to be susceptible to influence. When that failed, we always went for the sodium pentothal."

I take the adrenaline shot and stab it into my side. Immediately, a shockwave comes over my body, but I grit my teeth and push past it long enough for the less than pleasant effects to pass.

"It's a long shot, but it's all I have. I can't subdue her, so Jones has to regain control and be able to shut out the other meta on her own. Tell me as much as you can about those methods."

Reaching into my belt, I produce another battery pack for the shock gloves. To my dismay, it won't hold much of a charge. As I toss it aside, my eyes drift upwards to the cityscape of Gotham. And immediately, and idea begins to form in my head.

"Scratch that. We don't have enough time. Just tell me one thing..."

I can hear Jones emerging from the rubble entirely and Ivy's enraged growl, both seemingly ready for another go-around.



"How does an electrical charge factor into any of them?"