2.10

Chapter 2.8

I was fortunate that I was less informed about Diana of Themyscira than I might otherwise have been at the time. Because there is not a dignified way to ask if someone was a Greek god. To this day, I still can't believe Artemis was going by her real name.

Perching on an air vent where I could keep an eye on the idiotic bandit, I decided to get to know the first vigilante I had met. I suspected she was a hero, but she hadn't shown up in any of my research up to this point so I wasn't going make assumptions. While the swarm was keeping me situationally aware, until I was sure of her there was no need to broadcast the ability.

"It was the best I could do on short notice. Besides, I'm not taking costume criticism from someone rocking the combat belly shirt," I said, the smile in my voice even if wasn't visible.

"Wasn't my design. Still, it is better than the bluish unitard being rocked by Captain Poor Life Choices down there. Some people aren't meant for spandex, but that's hardly the worst decision he's made today." The banter seemed to be relaxing her, and I was still feeling good from kicking the crap out of my first masked villain. Even one as underwhelming as that one.

"I don't know what is it with this city. I mean, I get it from our end. There is crime out here and law enforcement clearly isn't giving value for money. You go out and do something about it because it is to be done, and the mask is so it doesn't follow you home. But these guys I don't get. It isn't even super powered Bonnie and Clyde, which is stupid but in the way that is comprehensible. How did he even get to the point where that seemed like a good decision?" That got a full-throated laugh from the archer.

"I think it's something in the water. " She was still chuckling as we watched Gotham's finest show up. Even as sad as this guy was, he'd have been long gone if someone hadn't gotten involved. I'm not exactly impressed with that response time, though I have to admit I couldn't really blame them. Between the way the Batman runs this place like his own personal fiefdom and the tendency for the faster cops to be the first to discover the next Joker device or get mind controlled by a green skinned eco-terrorist, being slow is probably a survival trait.

"So Weaver, if you aren't one of the Bat Clan, what brings you to Gotham? It can't be the scenery. "

Now that was an interesting question, one that I was momentarily distracted from as the police started cutting my catch down from his pole and disarming him before tossing him in their car. That was when I learned that the backpack was filled with actual ketchup and mustard, under pressure but... still just ketchup. It can't do that much damage.

"I grew up around here, but I haven't been back for a while. Besides, I've got super powers and I'm not an asshole. Aren't I supposed to fight crime?"

It wasn't the real answer, but I didn't know her well enough for the rest of the truth. This place didn't have any real rogues that I could find. Something else to work on, especially if I could divert some of the productive and comparatively good super-villains.

Artemis and I waited for the cops to move off again before moving off. I managed a decent interaction with another girl my own age, despite her being a user of the hated pointy sticks. She was the right blend of sarcastic and sincere that I appreciated and we agreed to meet up again. Perhaps my social skills weren't completely atrophied after all.

It doesn't take much time of rooftop running for her to realize I'm faster than I should be given my build. I will admit at that point, I was still new enough to it to get lost in the feeling of freedom. It wasn't flying but it was a close second. She didn't complain, but I could tell she was working hard to keep pace. Unless she was better at hiding it than I was, that ruled out any physical powers.

I pulled back without making it obvious but we didn't find any other interesting crime over the next hour or so. Artemis was good company when she wasn't puffing like a bellows. She was an exceptional archer and I kept myself to using my physical skills on the few muggers we managed to run into. The bugs were still there providing information, but I still wanted to keep an ace up my sleeve.

We agreed to meet back up tomorrow, and I started to make my way back towards my list of potential lairs. Best to start working on the costume again, and having some real body armor for my new potential aChapter 2.9

One of the advantages of the urban decay that was slowly killing the city was that property prices were remarkably low if you didn't care about where you were living. It had taken most of a day to arrange the shell company, the post office box, and the other elements necessary to buy property discreetly. Apparently the process was so common that the less reputable law firms had a process.

From there, it hadn't taken long to find a site that I could renovate into the appropriate lair and make an offer. A former garment shop that had fallen on hard times and been foreclosed upon. Some of the equipment was still present and there were a number of dress dummies. Still, since the only garment related madman was someone who went by Crazy Quilt, I wasn't exactly beating off competition.

Letting the lawyers handle the property purchase and a few deliveries burned through most of the cash that I had taken from the gangsters. Still, I had my own space and somewhere to start gathering the necessary spiders. While I still hadn't tracked down anyone who could sell me Darwin Bark Spiders, Gotham did seem to be teaming with enough black windows and golden orb spiders to provide for my needs.

Another helpful fact of the city's madness is that there are delivery services for just about anything that will deliver to a location with no questions asked. The supplies for my weaving hordes were easy enough to obtain and my current enhanced abilities made renovation work remarkably simple. LexTube has some remarkable DIY projects that came in handy once I bought or salvaged the needed materials.

But my time wasn't all work. Artemis and I had taken to patrolling together for a few hours as I learn the city and its environment. I hadn't grown up here and I didn't really have anyone else to handle the logistics and planning. Turned out that Artemis was decent company for the most part, though her background was a definite no go zone. Still, it was nice hanging out with someone my own age again even if we were just fighting crime.

I also managed to catch a meal with Renee whenever I could, and she seemed willing to maintain the contact. We also agreed that a potted plant on the window sill was the sign that she was with "company" and I should come back later. That was embarrassing enough the first time. I was setting up a crash space in the lair, but until then I was paying for a hotel room.

As I did the home improvement thing and started to work out my new costume, I had two realizations. I was absorbing information at an accelerated rate, so long as I managed to not startle myself or use my extra speed. It took a few tests, but anything that triggered my adrenaline reaction seemed to flip the switch. It was as if the processing power that enhanced perception tied up all the available spare brain power but if it wasn't being used, I could do other things with it. The second realization was that I was focusing on my current situation to avoid thinking about my father, my friends, and my world.

I was burying myself in my work to avoid dealing with emotional issues. All I needed to do was manage a dying union in a decaying urban sprawl and I would be performing all of Dad's greatest hits. One of the perils of growing up was ending up becoming your parents, but hopefully I'd find better ways of dealing with it than free floating anger and emotional unavailability. We were so alike it hurt, even if our cause was different. Benefits of time and distance I guess.

I was decompressing here, even if I was in a mad place filled with lunatics in costumes and super-villians. How sad is it that I was finding this city relaxing? This wasn't a world dying by inches. No mad crusade to kill a God, as it seemed like their space man could at least do a decent impression of a human being. No count down to Armageddon. I could find out who I was outside the pressure cooker I had lived in and deal with my subscription's worth of issues.

So I took that day, and dealt. I looked up some material for dealing with grief and loss, which Gotham stocked in bulk, go figure. I let go of the emotional controls and just processed. I started writing letters to those people I missed, like Lisa, Brian, and most of all Dad. I forgave him for the misunderstanding, I apologized, for, well basically everything I did as Skitter and basically abandoning our relationship. I did everything I could think of, and then the next day I got back to work. No need to get crazy with it after all.lly might not be a bad idea.Chapter 2.10

Standing upon a platform illuminated by a spotlight, the Riddler smiled as a Bat-wearing vigilante crashed through the skylight right on cue. He was even properly posed as though he had planned everything out to its most minor detail. If his bio was any indication, he probably had. His smile curdled like old milk when he finally got a clear look at me.

"Not who you were expecting?"

My own smile was bright enough to blind under the bandages. My own costume was still a few days away from being finished by this point. I would work up a few backup costumes before I offered to Artemis up something that wouldn't have a giant "shoot me" sign on the midriff. The greatest part about spoiling this glorified man-child's party was that I had just stumbled upon him while making my way through the largely abandoned sections of the warehouse and manufacturing districts.

Since I didn't have a certain archer with me, I felt no reason to try to attack him and engage whatever fiendish traps he had placed for the Batman. Besides, I had a good half dozen of Gotham's more aggressive unwashed to enjoy giving a beating. The fact that they hadn't rushed me was more proof that there were more traps around here than would be safe.

"You aren't Batman."

"What was your first clue?"

Not the best line, but let's face it. At this point, most of my fights didn't involve much in the way of snappy banter, at least from my side. I had done fear and I had done anger, but for everything Tattletale had said about Cops and Robbers, I had always taken everything so seriously. As I back-flipped over the goon who thought he could sneak up behind me and sent him lurching towards his boss, I considered how much more I was enjoying this. Seriously, I just back-flipped over a guy and kicked him into a poorly disguised booby trap. How was that not cool?

While I would never forgive Sophia for everything she did, I was coming to understand Shadow Stalker just a little. She was still a lunatic, a sadist, and one of the Bitches Three who had plagued my life for more than a year. But I could see how she could find freedom in just stomping idiots who so obviously had it coming, the joy of a good fight filling your brain with all those wonderful chemicals and your passenger's subtle encouragement. Driving my fist into the second question mark bedecked hooligan, I try again.

"Come now Eddie, they said you were smart. But late night activity at the Carter Crossword Company? Seriously?"

The Riddler may have been a genius when it came to puzzles and cryptography, but he was far from a master planner. The look on his face as he watched his first goon tip into the pit trap and the news that I didn't go through whatever elaborate series of clues were supposed to bring the Dark Knight running is something that I will cherish. As he watched me practically dance my way through his goons with the sort of casual ease my enhanced abilities allow and seeing his elaborate plans go for nothing, he just crumpled.

He was actually surprised when I just zip tied him to one of his goons and set them all out by the curb before calling the cops. No reason to force the Gotham Police Department to crawl through the elaborate death trap when they didn't have a swarm to provide them with easy detection abilities.

Smiling as I sat on the roof top, watching E. Nigma and his goons being picked up with a pair of rather bemused Police Officers. My costume would be ready tomorrow and then I was done with playing around with the small fries and street crime. Weaver would be moving in truth and Gotham would have something to see.