Rachel

Rachel was working on a new case at her office. It was past midnight. Wow, was it ever, 3 in the morning actually but boy was she working. This new case was big, huge even. She sighed and picked up the phone, dialing Bruce's number.

*RING*

He was moving around the newly built mansion with a speed that as extreme for a human of his size. Alfred was God only knows where. Probably running to find the phone which was what Bruce was doing. He was about to go down to the batcave. He had to get out there tonight. He couldn't run into any new complications like Crane or anything. "Alfred!" He bellowed moving out of his bedroom. There it was. Sticking out from under the couch. How in the world did it ever end up there? Shaking his head he bent over and picked it up. He hit the talk button raising it to his ear. "Bruce here." He said going back to his bedroom.

He sat at his desk with his heals in the air. He watched each monitor closely. "Nothing new there or there or here." He said to himself aloud. He stood up and walked down the hall. He entered a room full of electronics. There was one thing that stuck out, it was his riddler. It was in a box and a hand would go back and forth and back and forth between a '?' and a no. He went through the room just to get to this riddler in a box. He stood there and asked, "Is tonight the night to go and explore?" He smiled as he watched the hand go from the 'No' to the '?'. "YES!" He shouted.

He danced his way out of the room and down the stairs. He stopped and grabbed something to eat before he left. He had his machines make him a quick grilled cheese sandwich. "Easy as...well...grilled cheese." He said as he devoured it. He skipped into the garage and grabbed his green jacket, cane, and hat and plowed himself into the car. "And away we go!" He said as he turned on the car and sped to Gotham City.

He drove up and down streets looking for the perfect place for trouble. His car wasn't too flashy but he covered it up pretty well. It was still green but not an obvious green. He parked his car and decided to walk the streets. He grabbed some regular clothes and slipped them on top of his leatard, and then placed his hat and green coat back on. He started to walk down the road and then he stopped inside a diner. This could be interesting. He thought to himself.

He stood there in the basement of the Goth Corp building. No one ever came in there so he had nothing to be afraid of. The room was filled with icicles both hanging from the ceiling and standing straight up from the floor. Some of the furniture he had recently installed including a desk and chairs were frozen solid. He wasn't exactly in that room though. He was standing in the secret room that joined with the basement. This room was even colder than the last as it had some of the ice crystals he needed to power his cryogenic suit with. Aside from that it also contained his most cherished possession.

He looked up with love and compassion at the beautiful woman in the cryogenic chamber. She had long flowing blonde hair and wore a long blue dress, her eyes were closed but no matter how long she was in this state he'll always remember the look she gave him before the condition that overcame her.

"Don't worry my love," He said as he put one hand on the glass of the cryogenic chamber. "I'll find the cure and we'll be together once more."
And with those final words he turned around and walked out of the room, closing the large door behind him.

He walked out of the basement and out the back exit of Goth Corp, he was going to make sure he found the cure before her condition worsened or before she died.

Huntress

Huntress stood atop the Wayne Tower, looking down at Gotham City. The wind fluttered through her long raven hair, tossing the silky locks this way and that about her face. From where she stood, it seemed peaceful...not that that meant very much. This was a dirty city and there were always dirty deeds being commited. That was why she was there.

Alfred

Alfred hurried into the room, eyes scanning for the ringing phone. His hands were wet and soapy, as he had been caught off-guard while washing the dishes. As much as Master Bruce insisted that he try out the dishwasher, Alfred could just not bring himself to do it. He preferred the tried and true way of getting things done. After all...since the reconstruction of Wayne Manor the new dishwasher hadn't even been tried out yet! Why ruin it? It looked lovely, just sitting there with Master Bruce's coat draped over it. Certainly, Alfred thought, it would be a shame to disrupt Bruce's natural untidiness.

As the phone had stopped ringing, Alfred assumed that Bruce had picked it up, which was just as well, considering how his wet hands were dripping onto the carpet now. He shook his head and headed back to the kitchen to finish up the last of the dishes and then head to bed.


Crane

The funny thing about the world 'asylum' is that very few people truly know what it means. To most, if you should ask them, the world was synonymous with "nuthouse", or to the politically correct, "mental institution". But to those who truly knew...an asylum was a place of rescue. Of safety. Of sanctuary. That is was Arkham Asylum was to Jonathan Crane. His sanctuary.

After the events with Ra's Al Ghul had been cleared up, Crane had slipped into the dark corridors of the lower floors of the asylum, undetected and undisturbed. How many tunnels had been closed off over the years? How many secret rooms lay behind the feeble brick walls? Crane knew. Even in the cloud of his mind, he knew. And he used them as his own.

True, at some nights he would creep up to the higher floors to visut his old patients, and they were so very happy to see him. They screamed and thrashed and cried as he waved to them, but he was gone, back to the shadows before anyone could come to check on the ruckus. It was such a fun game.

Tonight, however, Crane decided to take a walk. And why not? That was a fun game too. The police were still looking for him, and so was The Batman, but they hadn't caught up with him yet. And they wouldn't, not yet anyway.

His hands closed around his mask, the burlap stinging the insides of his palms as he tightened his grip. The homeless were far too easy to scare, and the patrolling officers too difficult. He needed to make more of his toxin...

But there was one person who might still be fearful without it... His cold blue eyes raised to the top window of the district attourney's office and the corner of his mouth turned upward, in a half smile. Miss Dawes.

Perhaps she had not yet awoken from her nightmares...

The Joker

At first, things at the First Gotham Bank seemed perfectly normal. Tellers quietly and quickly speed person after person through their respective lines, easily maximizing the number of customers coming through and the number of smiles on those customers’ faces as they left.

Three future customers entered with smiles already on their faces. Three clowns to be exact. As the clowns entered, customers turned to see what was happening. One appeared to be juggling, one was waddling in huge shoes, and one just seemed to be wearing a rather large striped shirt, but didn’t seem to be doing anything exciting.

The customers giggled and laughed, thinking that these clowns had been hired by the bank to keep the customers happy during their wait. No one noticed the security guards moving towards the clowns. The juggler took quick care of them, knocking each out with one the balls he was juggling.

Suddenly panic began to take over. The Joker then stepped forward. “Hello, citizens of Gotham. my name is Joker.” He proceeded to walk straight to the front of the line. “Mungo, give our new friends something to smile about.” The waddling clown opened slots in his shoes, blasting the patrons with laughing gas.

“Smiles, people, smiles.” Joker said, as he continued toward the bank manager. “Now, I am going to take all the gold in your vault, because you are going to give it to me.” The manager walked stiffly toward the vault, opened it, and allowed Joker and his goons inside.

Cheshire

Cheshire smirked as she looked down at the empty city street. "Time to pay the piper, Jim Gordon." She murmered, waiting for the unsuspecting police officer to came from the office. Her employer wanted this man dead. She didn't care why, it wasn't her job. Her job was to make sure he met his maker. And Cheshire was very good at her job. (C'mon, someone, get active!!!!)

The Riddler

The Riddler sat down and ordered some coffee and two slices of toast. From the first sniff of the coffee he knew it was bad. He took a sip and then a hard swallow. He jumped up. First on the chiar and then on the table. He took off his trench coat and put on his hat. Someone rushed over and told him to get down. The Riddler replied with,

"I'm not here to blow you all up,
I'm just here to sing.
Don't drink that coffee in that cup,
Oh do you here a ring?

Don't sing my sad song,
Just be strong.
When ever your stuck in the middle
Just think of a good riddle."

The Riddler left a bag on the table and bounced out the door. He ran down a few blocks and waited. "3-2-1" Boom! All the people in the diner were all stuned by a green gas and the remains of the bag left a question mark. On the door he left riddle for the cops to ponder:

There is a certain day.
Where everyone goes to pray.
Also it's something you eat.
It's a very nice treat.
There is one place.
Where you can say grace
And have an eating race.
That place is next
better study your text.

Poison Ivy

Ivy lay in Arkham Assylum playing with her long red hair. She was tired of sitting in this ratty ol' place. It was time to get out. The guard finally came to deliver her meal to her. As he opened a small compartment to slide her food in she blew some of her pheromones his way. "Guard... I do believe it's time to let me out." The guard pulled out his keys and opened the door. "Thank you, darling. That is well deserving of a kiss," she gently kissed his lips. Within a moment or two he fell to the ground. "Really now, these people need to stop underestimating me." She walked down the hall primping herself.