Friday, December 31, 2004

107. Dick

New Year's Eve already? Time flies when you spend so much of it wringing your hands hoping the man you love (and work for!) is going to survive poisoning.

Bruce is doing a little better these last few days--the hallucinations seem to have stopped, at least-- but his skin is still a horror and he's still in a lot of pain so he's not well enough to go on patrols tonight, even though both of us are convinced that Strange is almost bound to strike. GCPD has Gotham Square under tight surveillance, but that surely won't deter him.

I want so badly to go out solo as Robin, but Bruce forbids it. So I'm here at home with a bag of popcorn in the microwave and a bottle of champagne in the fridge, about to turn the TV on. Not the evening I was expecting, but then if you'd asked me a year ago what I'd be doing at the very end of 2004, I doubt I would have answered, "Putting on a mask and costume and defending Gotham from evildoers."

Ah, life is FULL of surprises, ain't it?

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

106. Dick

Major-level weird shit going on around here lately, and I've been so caught up in it that I haven't even had time to write about it.

First and foremost, Bruce has been sick--REALLY sick--ever since the WayneTech party over a week ago. He spent at least three solid days puking his guts out, and then the skin rash started to appear. His face is covered with purplish bumps, and his arms, legs, and chest are all dotted with spots, too. It's sort of like a cross between acne and shingles--both ugly as shit and painful as hell. Meanwhile, he's been hallucinating a few hours a day, at least once a day.

I said we should get him to a hospital, but Alfred insisted we summon this particular doctor, an old family friend who makes house calls. Too risky to expose him to the outside world now. She's been over three times. Says he's been poisoned.

Needless to say, he's been in no condition to suit up. I've been laying low, too. Meanwhile, the guy we've taken to calling The Impostor has been making more and more frequent appearances around town. Seems pretty obvious by this point that it's Dr. Strange behind the whole thing--drugging Bruce at the party, and then wearing the batsuit (either stolen, or an incredibly good knockoff) to destroy his reputation while he's out of commission.

Dr. Thornton says the effects of the poison should start wearing off any day now, thanks to the treatment she's been administering. I sure as hell hope so--this is some pretty scary shit we're up to our necks in right now.

Monday, December 20, 2004

105. THE GOTHAM GAZETTE

PROTESTORS, MASKED MARAUDER SPREAD MAYHEM IN MIDST OF MERRIMENT

by Thomas Drury
Staff Reporter

The weather outside was frightful--and the scene indoors was even worse.

Despite temperatures in the single digits, approximately fifty mostly young protestors gathered outside the headquarters of WayneTech Industries Saturday night brandishing signs and chanting slogans decrying the company's indirect involvement in the Iraq War. They lit fires on the lawn, burned WayneTech CEO Bruce Wayne in effigy, and huddled together in the warmth generated by their property destruction.

Inside the building, over 200 WayneTech employees, their spouses, and other invited guests enjoyed a catered feast and open bar. The occasion? The company's annual Christmas party. Live music was provided by the Molehill Gang, one of Gotham City's most popular rock/rap ensembles.

The revelers remained mostly undisturbed by the chaos outdoors until the demonstrators began hurling stones and bricks through the windows of the ground floor of the high-rise structure. Panic ensued--and the chaos only heightened when the mysterious, little-seen figure Gothamites know as "the Batman" arrived on the scene.

Contrary to his image in the popular imagination as a defender of the weak, this Batman branished a gun and demanded that the party attendees hand over their wallets and handbags. Rather than attempting to quell the disturbance outside, as many expected him to do, the masked man invited the protestors to "join the celebration" before departing into the night.

CEO Wayne was unavailable for comment. The usually highly visible entrepreneur left the party in an ambulance sometime in the midst of the confusion, complaining of severe stomach cramps.

In a press release issued yesterday, however, Wayne promised that each of the employees in attendance would receive holiday bonuses in excess of the money stolen from them during the unfortunate incident, and he vowed that "this 'Batman,' or whoever he turns out to be" would be tracked down and brought to justice, adding that there was no hard evidence that the "real" Batman was involved. Witnesses confirmed that the costume of the intruder closely resembled the one which has been widely seen over the past few years, but varied from it in several key ways.

Police arrested twelve of the protestors, and the party continued late into the night. "This is the weirdest holiday party I've ever been to," observed Gerald Reedy, 27, an accountant for WayneTech. "And I used to work at a dotcom, so that's saying a lot."

Friday, December 17, 2004

104. Hugo Strange

VERY GOOD, BATMAN. ONLY TOOK YOU, WHAT, A MONTH TO FIGURE IT OUT? SEEMS TO ME LIKE THAT "WORLD'S GREATEST DETECTIVE" BUSINESS IS A LOAD OF CRAP! I CAN ONLY IMAGINE HOW LONG IT TAKES YOU TO DEDUCE THE IDENTITY OF YOUR SECRET SANTA...

SPEAKING OF WHICH, I MIGHT JUST HAVE A PRESENT FOR YOU AT THE WAYNETECH CHRISTMAS PARTY SATURDAY NIGHT. AFTER ALL, I KNOW YOU'LL BE THERE.

THAT'S RIGHT, BATS--I KNOW A LOT MORE ABOUT YOU THAN YOU SEEM TO KNOW ABOUT ME.

AN AWFUL LOT.

TILL WE MEET AGAIN,
H.S.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

103. Batcomputer database entry

NAME: Strange, Hugo
ALIASES: Dr. Strange
CURRENT WHEREABOUTS: Unknown
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: height/5'10" eyes/brown hair/none
HISTORY: I first met psychiatrist Hugo Strange in the mid-1990s, when he contacted me via e-mail. He was researching the growing world of online fantasy, MUDs, and other examples of what he described as "shared hallucination." I do not recall how he first learned of the Batman, a guise which I maintained almost entirely online at that time. I agreed to meet with him in costume at a neutral location. During what I had been led to believe would be an academic interview, he grew increasingly flirtatious, although I rebuffed his advances. His passion soon turned to anger, and in the months which followed, he made numerous attempts to contact me again, issuing ever-escalating threats before eventually vanishing.

PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: Strange is obsessed with learning my secret identity. He possesses a highly developed mind, though his emotional life appears to be stunted. He is prone to violent outbursts.

KNOWS MY ID? YES NO x UNSURE

RISK ASSESSMENT: While there is no record of criminal activity in Strange's past, his quick temper makes him a figure to be regarded with extreme caution.

NOTES: Strange's psychiatric background affords him access to both great insight into the workings of the human mind and to a vast array of pharmaceuticals.

102. Dick

Batman thinks he's figured out who the mysterious "H.S." is, and he seems really upset about it. Says the guy is indeed an "old friend" from his past who he thought was long gone. Not the Riddler after all. I hate to say it, but the name doesn't ring a bell to me; in fact, it's already slipped my mind. Hugh something, I think, but maybe I misheard it. I didn't write it down last night--but no matter, because tonight it looks like my main assignment is going to be researching the databases for background on the guy.

I joked about when the Batcave's Christmas Party was going to be, but that didn't go over too well. We've already seen how much of a sense of humor the big guy has, especially when he's immersed in a case.

Oh, speaking of parties,there are two coming up: Janice is having one this Friday, which will be my first chance to see her in god knows HOW long, and WayneTech is throwing one the following night (to which I'm not invited, for obvious reasons). Actually Janice called me to invite me to hers AND to a planning meeting for a protest action outside the WayneTech one (which I also can't attend, for obvious reasons).

Jingle bells, batman smells...

Hey, he really does, too! I think it's CKOne, but Obsession would be more appropriate.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

101. YOUR FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD NEMESIS

WELL, WELL, MISTER B. YOU ACTUALLY GOT HALF OF MY NAME MOSTLY RIGHT. LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE BIG DETECTIVE! OOOOOOOOOOH, VERY GOOD. I'M IMPRESSED.

BUT SOMEHOW I WOULD THINK A BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY--WITH ACCESS TO THE LARGEST TRUST FUND IN GOTHAM CITY AND ACCESS TO AN UNLIMITED NUMBER OF RESOURCES--WOULD BE ABLE TO DO A LITTLE BETTER THAN THAT.

AND I'M HURT--AFTER OUR LAST FEW ENCOUNTERS, I WOULD HAVE IMAGINED YOU WOULD NEVER FORGET ME.

BUT DON'T WORRY; YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO GET ME OUT OF YOUR HEAD FROM NOW ON.

SLEEP WELL,
H.S.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

100. Batman

Alright, stranger. This appears to be your preferred means of communication, so I'm giving you one more chance: Tell me who you are, and what you want.

If you know me as you well as you claim you do, then you must be aware that I do not tolerate nonsense.

Friday, December 10, 2004

99. Dick

(Still in lockdown. The batcomputer is temporarily--or perhaps permanently--out of commission right now. I'm only able to continue writing here because my home computer is not networked to the one in the Cave.)


Whoever this "H. S." is, he (or she?) sure knows how to push Batman's buttons. B and I still went out on patrols last night (I haven't really been that regular a guest on these missions lately--not sure why he hasn't been inviting me) but he was distracted the whole time, mulling over what could possibly have gone wrong with the security systems that would allow a hacker to start posting messages on the batcomputer. The reference to his actual hair color in H.S.'s last post really has him going--although he's trying to convince himself it's just a bluff. (If Bruce was a redhead or something and H.S. had mentioned that, that would be far greater cause for concern.)

Then there was that line where he claimed to have "taken" Batman's "new partner": naturally that led to about three solid hours of interrogation. Who had I been in contact with over the last three months? Had I fallen into any traps I hadn't told him about? What names in the criminal database had I had interactions with during my brief career as Robin? And so on, and so on--Christ, you'd think I was a suspect or something. (In B's mind, I think, everybody is a potential criminal. Everybody except his parents, that is.) Eventually he let me off the hook.

Right now B has a hunch this is all tied to the Riddler in some way, even if he's not sure how. Neither of us has heard from Nygma in weeks, though we do know he's pissed at B and jealous of me. Just how jealous is anybody's guess.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

98. GUESS WHO

NOW, NOW, BATMAN--SHUTTING YOURSELF DOWN IS NO WAY TO PLAY OUR LITTLE GAME. I EXPECTED MORE OF YOU. AND I'M FRANKLY A BIT DISAPPOINTED THAT YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED OUT WHO I AM BY NOW. TRUE, YOU DO HAVE A LOT OF PLAYMATES--BUT I ALWAYS THOUGHT I WAS YOUR FAVORITE!

YOU MUST ADMIT THE GAME HAS CHANGED A GREAT DEAL SINCE WE FIRST STARTED PLAYING LONG AGO. TAKE YOUR NEW PARTNER--NO, WAIT, I ALREADY HAVE. BUT YOU'LL FIND OUT MUCH MORE ABOUT THAT LATER.

MEANWHILE, I CONTINUE TO LEARN MORE AND MORE ABOUT you, OLD FRIEND. THINGS THAT WOULD CURL THE STRAIGHT BROWN HAIR UNDERNEATH THAT MASK OF YOURS.

TIME TO PUT YOUR DETECTIVE CAP BACK ON. HAPPY HUNTING.

--H.S.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

97. Dick

I feel like I've been completely out of circulation for weeks. And now this.

Somebody has hacked into the batcomputer, and B is understandably going berserk about it. We're in complete lockdown mode over at the Cave; Alfred's practically tearing the place apart looking for security breaches. Until those two figure out what's going on, the main computer is out of commission--no classified information can be exchanged except in person.

I'm spending as much time as I can away from the action. I know it's wrong, I know it's not very heroic of me to retreat like this, but goddammit, I've been busting my ass for the Batman for months now. My own home is a wreck; I can't find anything when I need it, my refrigerator is full of moldy half-eaten crap, and everywhere I walk I seem to step on something fragile. Meanwhile Christmas is two weeks away and I haven't given it a thought. On the other hand, I barely have anyone left on my shopping list--no friends, no family, just Bruce and Alfred. That's about it.

Needless to say, there's no tree going up at Wayne Manor. They've got much bigger shit to deal with at the moment.

Monday, December 06, 2004

96. MYSTERY GUEST

YOU DISAPPOINT ME, DETECTIVE. SURELY YOUR MUCH-HERALDED INTELLECT CAN FIGURE IT ALL OUT.

I MEAN, I'VE BEEN ABLE TO FIGURE OUT MANY THINGS--LIKE HOW TO LOG IN TO THIS "BAT-COMPUTER," FOR INSTANCE, AND ALL THE FASCINATING INFORMATION IT CONTAINS.

THAT'S RIGHT, I SAID ALL.

NOW THE REAL FUN BEGINS.

--H.S.

Sunday, December 05, 2004

95. Batman

Who are you? And how did you access this computer? Show yourself!

94. TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTED

SURPRISE, BATMAN. YOU'VE GOT COMPANY.
-H.S.