The gloom of Gotham was only worsened by the arrival of winter. The air was sharp, the sky perpetually gray, and the streets lined with slush that turned to gri as soon as it touched the pavent.
But for once, Artemis was in a good mood.
She hurried out the door, heart pounding in anticipation. Her mom was finally coming ho. After years behind bars, Paula Crock had been released.
"Hey, Artemis," Joseph called as he stepped out of his apartnt—right across from hers.
"Hey," she replied absently, barely slowing her stride as she headed toward the street.
There was sothing suspicious about him. She had done so digging after Karoselle's n showed up at his door. It wasn't just curiosity—it was instinct. She needed to know who she was living next to.
What she found had been unsettling.
Anton Karoselle, better known as Salvatore Maroni, had been making big moves—arming himself, gathering n, preparing to seize control of Gotham's underworld. Artemis had made it her mission to disrupt him, putting to use the skills her father had beaten into her daily for years.
Then, suddenly, it was over.
Word on the street was that Harvey Dent had settled an old score. Permanently.
And yet, Joseph had been in contact with Karoselle a month before his death. Unlike all the other people who crossed him, Joseph hadn't disappeared. He was still here, living his life like nothing had happened.
She narrowed her eyes, watching him for a mont longer.
Suspicious.
But her mother was waiting, and for now, her questions would have to wait.
**
Joseph was in a great mood.
Ever since trouncing that arrogant loser, securing a new suit, and making off with millions from 'fluidly redistributing' Karoselle's wealth, life had been cruising by.
The suit, though, was a bit of a hassle. No matter what dye he used, the colors wouldn't change. Nova had no data on the material that could self-repair, so it couldn't help either. And the web shooters? Those had to go. The fluid storage on the back of the suit was a liability—if it ruptured in a fight, he'd be trapped in a cocoon of his own making. Plus, the fluid was finite, and he had no clue where to get more.
Still, the technology was insane. How had Eric Needham, a two-bit thug, gotten his hands on sothing like this?
Not that it mattered now. Needham had been arrested that sa night and was headed for a long stay at Belle Reve.
They should've tacked on "cris against fashion" to his sentence. The giant spider on the mask was hideous. Joseph decided to wear a balaclava over the suit's mask, only exposing the yellow eye pieces from the mask.
When he finally put on the suit properly, he got it. He understood where Needham's arrogance had co from.
Walking up walls? Running sideways along a building? Hanging upside down with ease?
It was sick.
He had to test this out properly—downtown, with plenty of tall buildings.
**
Joseph crouched on a gargoyle, left arm resting on his knee, head lowered as rain poured over Gotham.
'Yeah,' he thought, watching the city through yellow lenses. 'This is tough.'
//...//
He had the black balaclava pulled over the suit's mask. No way he was going to be caught rocking mid after building so rep.
The grey web shooters were still strapped to his wrists. Might as well use up the last of the fluid before tossing them for good.
Then he heard it.
A deep voice.
"Flux, I wanted to talk to you."
Joseph nearly jumped off the building.
How? How had soone gotten this close without Nova detecting them? Was it the rain?
Please, let it not be who I think it is.
He turned.
It was.
Batman.
'Fuck. No way Batman just caught aura farming.'
Joseph didn't hesitate.
"I think you got the wrong person," he said, using Nova to deepen his voice—deeper than Batman's, just for good asure.
Then he leapt.
A flick of the wrist, and a red web shot out, catching onto a building. He swung away, slicing through the night air.
He was in fight-or-flight mode, and he had chosen flight.
He'd heard the stories about those who crossed Batman. He wasn't sticking around to see if they were true.
'Fuck, I lost so much aura too. Let's just pretend that didn't happen.'
Still, as he cut through the city, the exhilaration pushed his embarrassnt to the back of his mind.
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