Doors

[The rain isn't his doing, but everything else is. Waiting until Riddler, the self-proclaimed guardian of Arkham, is gone, is easy enough. The man is unpredictable, and unpredictable men never remain still for long. His men break in, and they set the bombs without even being noticed. The distraction of preparations for Blackgate transfers, with the filling of buses and filing of paperwork, is just that - a distraction. The ground is soaked by the time the explosions detonate, and the rain-soaked foundation helps the bombs finish their work. Arkham Asylum explodes, and then it sinks into the gaping maw left behind when the rain-drenched foundation fails. Screams fill the night, along with the smell of charred flesh, but there's no saving anyone inside. Amid the rubble, a message a appears once the smoke clears, one last present from Bane to his adversary, a taunt to come out from the shadows - a Bat symbol in flames in the middle of the debris.]

[Reports of Batman sightings begin as early as a few hours after Arkham is destroyed, and continue on throughout the night and into the next day. He strikes in areas with the highest concentration of Bane's men, and his attacks are both public and brutal. Nothing, not even bullets, seem to slow him down, and his opponents are left in the street, stripped of their weapons and at the mercy of the citizens they've terrorized.

There is no discernable pattern to his actions, no way to predict when and where he'll strike next. Only one thing is certain; the Bat shows no sign of stopping.]

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, the few meetings I had scheduled have completed, and I am left with an open schedule for once.

It's strange, having this free time after months of being busy.

[Locked to Jack C. after this begins.]

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

NOBODY ELSE KNOWS WHO HE
KELLAN WOULD NEVER

YOU THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF JOKE?

[Comm to Matilda H and Dylan M]
[All business. No concerns whatsoever. Beep.]