The Universe's Mixer

Tim had known right away that it wasn't Gotham. There was just a way Gotham felt, and this wasn't it. Not by half. What he didn't know was how the change had happened. He hadn't been doing anything particularly dangerous, but rappelling off a building and ending up on a street that wasn't the one that had been directly below him was...

Well, it was suspicious, to say the least. There wasn't too much information to be found without being suspicious himself, and the reaction people generally had to costumed vigilantes wasn't too awesome, in his experience. Too bad he was stuck as Robin until he found some civilian clothes somewhere. He had money on him - mostly in the form of plastic - but there was no guarantee he'd be able to use it. He wasn't really big on stealing, though, so maybe he'd just stay in the costume for awhile.

I'm sure I already passed this building.

He wondered how long he'd been awake. It had been more than twenty-four hours since he'd gotten here, as far as he could tell. His phone wasn't dialing out correctly, but the clock on it still worked just fine. At least, it ticked the hours past. That was all that mattered at the moment.

He knew he'd have to find somewhere to crash, and soon. Being out in the open wasn't exactly his idea of a good time, especially in a place he only had limited knowledge of so far. He'd have to get to a computer soon and see if email was working.

Tim turned and walked down the nearest side street; he was sure he'd been this way, so maybe if he found something familiar he'd get some kind of bearings. He stopped after a few feet, hearing footsteps come up behind him. One hand moved to his side, close enough to the collapsed bo staff in his belt to be able to defend himself if he needed to, but not anywhere particularly suspicious, then turned to face whoever was coming.

After his altercation with the red-haired woman, the Hulk bounded off to explore the city. Covering several blocks in a single, thunderous leap, he was able to reach the edge of the city in a few minutes. He looked ahead from the rooftop where he stood. There was a dark, dangerous-looking street just below him, but on the other side of this was nothing but a flat, dark grey wall. There wasn't even any graffiti to break up the monotony of the edifice. Looking up, he was quite confused to see no top. His pulse quickened. Was he trapped?

He threw his green bulk at the wall and stuck for a split second, suspended high above the street. He scratched at the flat face, trying desperately to dig his fingers and toes in before gravity claimed him, but the wall laughed a bone-chilling squeal as his nails scraped fruitlessly against it, and he plummeted to the street below. The Hulk picked himself up and grunted in frustration.

THWAMM!

His fist rang against the strange material.

THWAMM! THWAMM!

The more weight he threw at it, the less effect it seemed to have. Again and again, with more and more urgency he slammed the sheer incline, and still it did not yield. He turned around, panic now evident in his eyes, and ran in the opposite direction of the wall. Crossing the city in high bounds once more, he reached the other side in just under a minute, leaving cracked pavement and wailing car alarms in his wake.

There was another wall here.

Now he was Angry. He bellowed at the sky and began hammering once more on the grey face.

"That totally sucked!" moaned 24, tying his glove around his leg to stop the bleeding from his gunshot wound.

"Oh, yeah, boo hoo," 21 scoffed, peering out of the dark alley where they hid. "Why don't you cry into that giant assload of cash we just stole."

"Giant ass...? There's like four hundred bucks in here! I can't even get my leg treated for that kind of money."

"Well, don't get shot at so much, Ow! Hey, that was metal!" 21 rubbed the back of his shoulder where the rusty aluminum support bar had struck him. "Okay, okay, so we screwed up. Maybe we do need some help in the planning department. I still say we're a force to be reckoned with, and any villain with half a brain will recognize that. We just need to get out there again, make a name for ourselves, and then ..."

"Then what? How is a villain going to find us, genius? We wear masks specifically so nobody knows who we are." 24 began counting the bills in the bag.

"I don't know. Maybe we take out an ad in the local alt-weekly. Damnit! I wish the Monarch was here." 21 slumped against the wall next to 24 and picked up another stack of bills. "Man, you're right. We didn't get crap."

"I know. We suck big time."