AN: Here we go again!
Xander didn't know where he was. Now this wasn't uncommon, in fact he almost expected it to happen occasionally, but this time he was pretty sure that he had screwed up big time. The walls of the alley that he was in looked very odd. Not brick or even concrete, but something else. The people that he could see walking down the street were wearing very futuristic looking clothes that were probably very current if the flying cars were anything to go by. So he was in the future, at least that mystery was solved. Now for the next question: how was he going to get home?
That's not to say that Xander didn't like this city, he did. The rundown buildings, graffiti on the walls, it had a homey feel to it. He looked at the wall which proudly proclaimed 'Jokerz' with a frown. Now, there was a whole gang of people calling themselves Jokers? Who did they think they were to use his dad's and, hopefully...someday, his name? Rage coursed through him as his fingers twitched anxiously. Well, he would just have to teach them about the copyright laws. A little reeducation was in order, painful reeducation. So, what if they hadn't done anything yet? A little preventive punishment, that's just they needed.
"Hey, this is Jokerz territory and I don't recognize you." An annoying nasally voice said from behind him. Xander turned to see a bunch of wannabees dressed up like it was Halloween. Honestly, you had to earn the right to wear that stuff. Not just paint up on Friday night. It was a privilege to be a freak. "Are you listening to me?"
"Oh yeah." Xander cackled as he turned around, enjoying the flinches when they saw his scars. He slowly pulled one of his many knives from the inside of his coat pocket. It flashed menacingly as he skipped toward them, making them back up slightly. Xander paused as he looked at the overweight leader with a clown mask on his face, then his hand whipped out as fast as lightning cutting off the idiot's ear. "I 'ear' ya! Hehehahaha!"
For the first time in nearly forty years the maniacal laugh of a true Joker was heard, echoing along with the screams of victims in the alley ways of Gotham.
It was only a prelude of things to come.
High in the dark cloudy sky of Gotham City, a signal suddenly appeared. Years ago, when the people of Gotham needed their dark champion they would shine his signal in the night's sky. The Bat-signal gave hope to the people and brought terror to it's criminal underbelly, all knew that the Batman was on the hunt that night. It's been twenty years since that symbol had appeared even though Batman had returned to the city, but the people still looked up at the sky occasionally, silently hoping that they would see his emblem. What shined in the sky right now was a complete mockery of that sacred symbol, a Joker card grinned down maniacally on the people who stared up with fear. Then a voice echoed throughout the city.
"Good evening citizens of fair Gotham! Many years ago, a man with a dream was born. This man had a vision of a world full of laughter and freedom, a place where order was forgotten and people could do whatever they wanted with no fear of repercussions from the tyranny of the human race, where nobody hid who they truly were. This great man tried his hardest to spread his dream, some followed him loyally, but most scorned and feared him. Alas, he was but a mortal man and he died before his dream could be realized. All that's left is pathetic imitations of him who lack his great vision. Only two men could truly understand his dream, one of which was a misguided soul who opposed him. I am speaking, of course, about the Batman. The great detective who finally defeated him, but this great man had another card up his sleeve or, rather, two of them. The first was his ace in the hole, a way for him to return that sadly did not work out. The second was a wild card, a Joker to be more precise....me!
I'm not just wasting my breath or time by this little heart to heart. With dear old dad dead, I'm the new Joker and I am speaking now to all those of criminal alignment. Back in my day, we didn't run from a brat wearing a bat costume. A five foot two blond former cheerleader...yes, but not from costume boy. It's time that we take this city back. If anyone doesn't like that then get out before tomorrow's sunset, but, hey, don't take my word for it! Just stick around, we have loads of laughs and a *really* good party. To my fellow criminal I say unto you: starting tomorrow night I want you to loot, pillage, plunder! I want you to steal and murder! I want you to do all the wonderful things that make you *you*. I'll take care of the authorities and the chaos, all you have to be is yourselves. LET'S BRING BACK THE GOOD OL' DAYS! HeheheheehohohohohahaahahHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
The eyes of Terry McGinnis narrowed into white slits as he heard the message from atop one of Gotham's many skyscrapers. He hoped that this was just a prank by one of the many Jokerz in the city, but somehow, something deep inside of him knew that it wasn't. The part of him that had been created the night his father died, the part that Bruce Wayne had trained and nurtured, the Batman part, knew better. There was something in the maniacal voice and laugh of whoever had sent this message that put him on edge.
"McGinnis." An aged gravely voice barked into Terry's ear. "Get back to the cave, now!"
"Yes sir." Terry muttered, his still narrowed eyes looking out over Gotham as if searching for the man who sent the message. Finding nothing, he stretched out his retractable wings and leaped off of the rooftop. Something was coming, he could feel it.
"I ran a few tests on the voice." Bruce informed him, pointing at the computer screen. Terry watched with rapt attention as Bruce tapped a few keys, bringing up several pieces of data. Even after working with him for a year, Terry was still learning more and more about being Batman and had figured out that he still had mountains of training ahead of him to learn from Bruce. Bruce had brought Gotham's underworld to it's knees with just a costume and low tech, by toady's standard, gadgets and Terry could only hope to measure up. "According to this, the voice is only seventeen year old."
"So, it could just be a prank." Terry murmured, gazing at the screen in front of him and memorizing where this file was located in the state of the art computer in case he needed it later. He saw Bruce glance at him skeptically. "But you don't believe that."
"No, there are too many and his voice was far too changing for it to be someone trying to hide their voice." Bruce stated, bringing up a graph showing the vocal pattern. "As you can see, his voice changes seemingly at random. It doesn't match any known pattern with any voice changer on the planet. The way it shifts it's pitch every other few sentences shows that his emotions are shifting from moment to moment. Whoever he is this kid is not stable in the least. Plus, I doubt that it is a former member of the Jokerz since he is disgusted by them, then there are the hints he left behind."
"Hints?" Terry questioned his mentor. Bruce taped a few keys and brought up the recording of the speech and clicked a bookmark that he had place on it in several places.
"....With dear old dad dead, I'm the new Joker..." The recorded voice of the so-called 'new Joker' spoke slightly. Bruce reached out and tapped a few more keys. "Back in my day, we didn't run from a brat wearing a bat costume. A five foot two blond former cheerleader...yes, but not from costume boy." Bruce then clicked the final bookmark. "I'll take care of the authorities and the chaos, all you have to be is yourselves. LET'S BRING BACK THE GOOD OL' DAYS!"
"The first tells us that he believes himself to be the Joker's son and the tests I've run on his voice shows that he absolutely believes this. Also the second comment shows that he remembers what he call's the good old days and he declares that he isn't afraid of you, but he was afraid of a blond cheerleader for whatever reason. The third clue shows a great love of chaos and anarchy, plus that the main part of the message isn't for the normal people, but for the criminals. He wants attention and he's challenging the criminals in front of the entire world." Bruce analyzed quickly, leaving terry a bit put out over not noticing even half of the compiled information. "Finally, he never once had any deception in his voice. He won't back out."
"I can kinda understand being afraid of cheerleaders. Those girls are pretty scary." Terry joked, trying to lighten the situation. When he saw Bruce glare at him, he dropped the pretense of being light hearted. "He believes he is the Joker's son, but is he? Before he came back, the Joker had been gone for thirty years, this guy is only seventeen which speaks against him being his son. On the other hand, his respect for you shows that he has seen you before and admires you, but believes you to be misguided, plus his hints of being from the past only enhances the possibility of being from the past. Is it possible that he IS the Joker's son and is from the cape and cowl days?"
"I'd have to get a sample of his DNA and compare it to the Joker to be positive, but it is possible." Bruce sighed deeply as he leaned back into his chair and rubbed his chin. "I don't remember any children of the Joker and it is something that he would brag about. What he did to Tim shows that he didn't know about any children. As for the past, it isn't only possible, but likely. If I don't remember him then that means that he didn't have a chance to do anything noteworthy before he was sent here, but I don't think that it is just time travel. This boy hints that he has had contact with the Joker and myself, which leads me to believe that he is from an alternate dimension in addition to time travel."
"Damn.....I have a lot to learn." Terry said with a stupefied expression on his face. He knew Bruce was good, but not THAT good, then he realized something. "Wait a second, you said that there was no deception in his voice. That means that he really will keep his promise to the criminals. 'I'll take care of the authorities and the chaos'. He's going after the cops, but what about the chaos he talked about?"
"He's not speaking just to the regular criminals." Bruce said, sitting up straighter as the answer came to him. "But to all criminals! He's mocking your Rogues Gallery about being caught by you, it's not the normals he's challenging, it's them. They are who he is talking to. He's going to break them all out of New Arkham!"
END OF CHAPTER
AN: A little cliffhanger for you guys. Next chapter the carnage really starts and it will be the longest chapter that I have ever posted. Not too sure when it will come out as it just keeps growing.
Also, I wondering if anyone is willing to due some fanart for this story?