Gods Among Men The East End

"Maybe another time." Slade said, getting up from his seat. "It's about time I get to work. I've got a long night ahead of me." He told David, "And, I need to buy an umbrella." Slade joked, turning to make his way towards the exit.

He seemed to vanish as soon as he stepped out into the rain. The only reminder of his presence being the glass of water and cigarette he left behind.
 
"What did you find, Dave?" A female voice asked David as he drove through the East End. "Everyone thinks looking for the Jokers is crazy. I'm not finding anything convincing me they're around." David answered, glancing at his phone.

It was hooked up to his dashboard, showing a private number. If the Joker and his gang were back, they were trying to keep that secret.

That meant David and his contact couldn't be as open as they wanted to be in their search.

"Gotham wants to sweep his legacy under the rug, and for good reason. He influenced anarchists across the nation. For better or worse, the Joker is a revolutionary." David said, opening his mouth to say more.

He never got another word out before a dump truck hit his car and sent it spiraling out of control. It slammed into a wall, the airbag deploying and nearly knocking David unconscious.

"Grab him. Torch the car." A man commanded, David turning to look in the direction of the voice. He couldn't get a good look at him, not that it mattered.

A swift punch to David's face and he was out like a light.

Twenty minutes later...

David awoke to found himself bound to a chair in an empty apartment. There wasn't a soul to be found.

"Hey!" He screamed, "What's happening? Why are you doing this?" David asked loudly, struggling in the chair to get free.

"You've been asking a lot of questions, that's the word around town, at least." A suited man said, stepping into the apartment from the hallway.

"Questions that the boss doesn't want asked." He told David, "He's on his way up. He'll tell you to your face why you should go back to Metropolis and keep writing about the Superman."
 
Joker, as played by Meliodas

The apartment wasn’t the only thing that was empty; the entire floor had been eerily vacated, and not a mouse stirred as silence followed the suited man’s words. Finally, steps grew closer to the room, before they came to a halt just outside the door, a shadow cast along the ground. Bam. An ax came flying through the door, carving an enormous hole in the wood where a familiar face peaked through. “Here’s Joker!” Maniacal laughter followed as an arm reached through the fresh divide, opening the door from the inside as the figure stepped through. He looked almost peculiar, with a purple pinstripe suit that seemed like it hadn’t been washed in years. Black wingtip shoes went without their usual luster, and beneath his jacket, was a stained up yellow shirt and green bowtie. The man looked aged as if he just woke up from a nap six feet under.

Removing a black bowler hat which revealed his iconic green locks, his hair was longer than usual, coming to rest on his shoulders in a disheveled mess which probably had not been touched by a brush in years. Yet, that same red painted smile remained, that Cheshire grin which was spread from ear to ear. “Gotham. Boy, is it good to be back! And they thought I was gone for good. Hah. Well, the circus is back in town, and with their star attraction!” Pausing and pacing in front of David, he finally reached into his jacket, revealing two revolvers which he held firmly in both of his hands. “I realized this city was lost without me. That it just wasn’t the same. Being dead is a hoot, but they should have known I would come back. I always get the last laugh.” He was talking with his usual comedic charm as he looked at David before quickly closing the distance between them. “We’re really going to have a blast.”
 
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"Hey, you can let me go. I won't tell anyone. I didn't see a thing." David told The Joker, "The boss didn't tell you to speak." The suited man said.

David recognized him from somewhere, but he couldn't quite place it. The Joker Gang wasn't his area of expertise, but he paid attention to the news in Gotham.

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to die. Don't kill me." David pleaded, "Please?"
 
Joker, as played by Meliodas

“Oh, who said I was only going to kill you?” His feet seemed to almost dance in place as he pranced about in front of David in a burst of excitement. It almost appeared as if he were trying too hard, like he was trying to convince someone. Running a hand through his hair and licking the corners of his mouth, he smiled and jumped into David’s lap, their faces almost touching as the crazed clown draped his arms around the mans neck and spoke. You can only imagine how rancid the Joker's breath must have been, mixed with his rotted teeth and bizarre complexion. “A looker aren’t I? Mother always said I was going places. Although, that was after she gave me the boot. On the other hand, I did send her a lovely bouquet that was just to die for.”

“Now listen closely David, because we’re going to play a little game. Here are the rules. You see that man over there? Loyal little bugger. A chip off the old block, don’t you think? I want you to kill him. If you don’t, I’m going to have to kill the one thing in this world that means the most to you… and we both know who that is, don’t we David?” It was a ruse, meant to simply leave something for David to latch on to. Once the man did that, Joker knew he had him right where he wanted him. Of course, there was much more to the game, a strict set of rules designed by the Clown Prince of Crime himself. But he didn't want to overwhelm the man all at once.
 
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"You want me to do what?" David asked, looking from the Joker to the man he was just ordered to kill. "No, I can't do that." He said.

He struggled to get free from the chair, clearly in distress. He should have known he would find trouble in Gotham.

People always found trouble in Gotham.
 
Joker, as played by Meliodas

Jumping off the man’s lap, he turned his back briefly, enough to cast a smile if only to subconsciously reflect his true intentions beginning to unfold flawlessly. Turning on his heel, he knelt down, the two revolvers still in each of his hands. “Come now. I mean, he ain’t no Goliath.” Motioning for the suited man to cut his friend free from the restraints, he took David’s hands rather forcefully, and with a grin placed one of the revolvers squarely between both of his hands. “Listen carefully. You have one shot, so make it count.” Taking a few steps back, he placed the other revolver at his feet, standing with his arms crossed, fearless as he continued with his schemes.

“So, I’m going to give you a few choices, and you will only have a minute, so best choose fast. Behind door number one… you either kill him, or I’ll kill the one thing that means more to you than anything. But, behind door number two… now this is where things get interesting. They are safe as long as I don’t make a phone call, so, you kill me instead.” Pausing in order to let David’s circumstances sink in, he pursed his lips before continuing. “Condemn me to die, and make Gotham great again! Though, of course, there is a catch because I’ve already ordered my man over there to kill you the moment you shoot me.”

“So, we either both die, he dies…” Pointing to the suited man, Joker snickered, fighting back the fit of laughter which tickled the back of his throat. As far as the suited man knew, it was a gag gun, but whether there was any truth to that wasn’t evident. “Or, that which means most to you dies. Which will you choose?” Walking over to a huge duffle bag in the corner of the room, Joker revealed an hour glass, which he held in his hand before turning over and sitting on the floor between them. “Tick tock.” As the sands of time ran, Joker stood in place, humming the theme to Jeopardy and casually looking at his wrist which was amusing since he didn't have a watch.
 
David shook his head, getting up to his feet. "No. No one has to die. I don't want to play your game!" He screamed, growing tense when he heard the hammer of a gun cock back.

He barely turned to look, but he could see the Joker's suited henchman aiming a pistol at him.

"Choose." The henchman demanded, "You don't have much time." He warned David, moving the gun so that it was aimed at his head.

David looked at the sand, it was running out. He knew he had to make a choice and he knew he'd probably die anyways if he didn't.

He quickly raised the revolver at Joker, gently squeezing the trigger. He could see the hammer start to move, but it stopped once he started having more doubts.

"Jesus! Don't! Please?" He begged, stomping a foot in frustration. You could nearly feel the room quake when his dress shoes hit the floor.

"Fuck!" He screamed, turning the gun on the henchman and squeezing the trigger hard. He had made his choice.

There was no turning back.
 
Joker, as played by Meliodas

The only thing that followed from David squeezing the trigger was an insane, absurd fit of laughter that almost appeared staged. Joker simply clutched his stomach and barreled over, losing control of himself as he stamped his feet, trying to regain his composure. Once he’d pulled the trigger, the only result was a flag protruding from the barrel with the words “got you” painted on it in red. It was a colorful display of the sort of crude comedy Joker actually thought was funny.

“You should have seen your face! Like I would give you a loaded gun. Hah. Might be even crazier than me if you thought I would do a silly thing like that.” Picking up the revolver at his feet, he grinned as he strolled over to the suited man, gripping one of his shoulders in an almost affectionate manner. “Did I ever tell you just how important you are to me? That you are my… number one… guy!” It was a struggle to complete the sentence as if there were some hidden intent behind his words.

“Like a son to me… one… I never wanted.” With his features darkening, it took less than a second for Joker to place the revolver underneath the suited man’s chin and pull the trigger, sending his brains splattering onto the wall behind them. Joker appeared to almost admire his handiwork before turning around, feigning a smile. “Oh him? Got a dozen more where that came from. Never trust a mercenary to do a clown’s job. They lack a sense of... showmanship.”
 
Most people when faced with casual murder and the presence of the Joker would freak out. They would panic. David was most people.

He doubled over and puked on the floor, "You shot him!" He said, dry heaving. "Why would you do that?" He asked the Joker, forgetting who exactly he was speaking to for a moment. "You're... y-you're insane!"

David placed his head in his hands, starting to pace the room. The revolver he held fell to the ground, the Metropolis reporter kicking it away from himself. He wasn't sure what was going to happen next. He was dealing with the Joker.

A psychopath. Serial killer. Terrorist.

"Just let me go, please? You made your point."
 
David's phone buzzed where it was laying on the bar. Picking it up and taking the call. "Blint," David said calmly into the phone grinding out his smoke.

The voice on the other end was nervous and on the verge of hanging up. "Sir That pimp you had me look into was part of Black Mask's Crew. He has a stash house deep in the East End. If you were looking for good intel that would be the place." The male voice paused for a moment. " Are you coming back? Doing this I am putting myself in danger that man has a far reach."

David got up from the bar putting a blood stained hundred dollar bill on the bar. David said " I will take care of you. And no this is personal." David hung up the phone.

Within the hour.
David was kitted up his M9 in a thigh tac holster. A Browning pump shotgun with an extended magazine. The long gun was attached via a sling to his bulletproof vest. Covered in pouches and webbing. The White Phosphorus grenade along with some old school pineapple grenades. And a kukri that was strapped to the small of his back "Time to go to work." David said as he stepped out of the ally pulling on the sugar skull bandana to cover his face.

The door guys never knew what hit them. The inward bent knife erupting from one suit. with an elbow to the other guy's throat. Followed by a slash the man's head went tumbling. David took two steps back and moved forward kicking the sweet spot on the door. It flew off the hinges.

Then David touched his power. He saw four tango's all going for guns. Things played out as if everyone was moving through honey. Including David, he had all the time in the world to think. The knife left David's hand to lodge itself into a man's throat. The shotgun's grip seemed to find it's home in David's hand as he fired three shots. And with that the room was clear. David relaxed his grip on his power and the last man hit the floor. The back of his skull missing. In normal time now David topped off pocketing the half full magazine.

Taking the time for a breather as he heard men thundering down the flights of stairs. David had time to wish he had some backup. There did sound like there was a lot of them. And the weapon's they were getting ready sounded like cheap clones of Ak's
David kicked over the table that the four guy where getting up from. A deck of cards hit the blood stained floor. As David took cover.
 
David would never get the chance to finish his attack. At least not the way he intended. There was a commotion, gunfire erupted up the stairs for a few short seconds and then it stopped. Down the stairs came the bodies of several gunmen, and following them came a man in a dark blue jumpsuit, deep orange boots, gauntlets, utility belt, holsters, and a metal mask that was split down the middle by the two contrasting colors.

The left side was deep orange, exposing a single eye. The other side was dark blue, completely covering that half of his face. He was heavily armed. Grenades, pistols, a sword on his back. You'd have to be living under a rock not to know who the man was.

It was the infamous mercenary Deathstroke.

"You're not here for the same reason as me, are you?" Deathstroke asked Blint, one eye directly on his cover. "I recognize you. Saw you on the news." The mercenary said, "You're a do-gooder, right? Mercenary? Either way, you're loud and prolific. You might be a problem in the future. I don't need any more problems." Deathstroke said.
 
Joker, played by Meliodas

“Why does a clown do anything? You know David, it’s the little things that make life worth living. I wouldn’t be the bag of smiles I am today if it wasn’t for a particular… flying rodent.” His features seemed to cringe in disgust just by the vague mention of you know who. “Some say I went mad, but I say I’m just ahead of the curve. Never miss a punchline, David. Besides, this is just the opening act!” Tiptoeing about after the mess the man had made on the floor, with the revolver in hand, he walked over to David, placing an arm around the man’s shoulders in an almost conciliatory way. “I’m going to give you a choice, David. You can either keep reporting on flying blue men and Bat-Brain or… cash in on your big break. Can’t see you see the headline? Pandemonium in Gotham! The Clown Prince of Crime takes out pretenders to the throne.”

The Joker’s grin must have been nauseating as he burst into another uncontrollable fit of laughter, unable to contain the carnage he had planned. “This city is in for one hell of a ride. I’m going to make an example out of every last damned wretch out there dumb enough to think they could squeeze me out.” Pointing to the large duffle bag in the corner of the room, he wagged his finger almost impatiently. “A present for you. Get typing.”
 
Blint sighed "who's side are you on? My mission is to destroy the vault." As Blint spoke his hands moved to his webbing grabbing a semtex grenade out of a pouch continued behind his cover. Blint laughed dryly and without humor "No I am no Hero. Just doing one last job than I am out." Blint said He snuck a glance at the man. He had been read in on Deathstroke. David Blint dropped his shotgun. If his trick was going to work he was going to need his side arm. The M9 came out of its holster. Blint prepared himself for the burn out of using his gifts.
 
"I'm on the side of the highest bidder. You can have everything in the vault. I just need to take something from it." Deathstroke told Blint, "We can dance another time. Deal?" The mercenary asked.

He had a job to do, fighting prolonged that job for now. There would be other opportunities down the line to take care of Blint if he ever became an issue in the future.

"You better decide fast. The feds are on their way. They're after the same thing I want."
 
"Alright let's dance. I'll take point."Blint said to Deathstroke. With that Blint popped up from his cover throwing the sticky grenade in the stairwell. The red L.E.D on the device began flashing and making a beeping sound.

David Blint took a deep breath. Knowing that the fall out of his power was going to suck. Blint grabbed his power. Time slowed tell everyone including Blint. It was like everyone was moving through honey. As the goons came boiling out Blint was able to make out the sweat on their faces. As they fled the explosive Blint had tossed into their ranks. Blint stroked the trigger emptying his gun. Perfect shots between their eyes Goons hit the ground. The back of their skulls gone. Blint fell into normal time as the last Goon hit the ground. And shot a glance at his backup. After showing this inhuman gunplay, he hoped he did not give away to much of his hand.

Then the red L.E.D. turned blue and started strobing on the explosive. It was a dummy round he had picked up. Used in bomb disposal training. Blint reloaded his sidearm and holstered. Picking up the shotgun he had dropped. Then moving to pull his long bladed knife from the man's neck. Blint checked the weapon barely even looking as he started up the stairs.
 
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"Type? Type what?" David asked the madman, turning his eyes on the duffle bag. "A fluff piece on a psychopath?" The Metropolis reporter asked like he didn't already know the answer.

There was a knock from the entrance to the apartment, another suited man standing in the doorway.

He was different from the first man. There was something about him. He had a growing beard and slicked back blonde hair.

The way he stood, you would think he was the one giving the Joker orders. The real boss.

No, David knew who he was. It was seeing the new man that he remembered who the other one was.

The dead man was one of the Red Hoods. The only one not dead, behind bars or missing. He was broken out of jail by a man affiliated with the Joker Gang.

The man standing at the doorway, Joker's number two after Harley Quinn. Jonny Frost. The most normal of Joker's crew.

It was probably why he survived so long. He wasn't afraid of Joker, he wasn't fascinated, he was a crook and he respected a mastermind when he saw one.

"Time to go, Mr. J. You'll miss your meeting at Amusement Mile." Frost told the Joker, "Final touches before we put you back in the limelight."
 
Deathstroke followed behind Blint, allowing the man to lead him to the vault. He could hear sirens in the distance. The law was moving faster than he anticipated.

It didn't matter, he was going to get what he came for and be gone.

"I took an opportunity to get the vault opwn while you were causing a distraction downstairs." He told Blint, an explosive being heard going off where the vault was.

"That was opportunity." The mercenary said about the explosion. "Hold them off, I need to grab what I came for as quickly as possible. I might even owe you a favor if I don't get arrested."
 
"Understood." Blint stood hearing the sirens drawing near. He worked with a block of C-Four and tossed it in. He turned and laid suppressing fire down the hallway. As more men started poking their heads around the corner. Blint had a plan it would most likely not work. But the next building over was close enough to jump to if one broke through the window at the end of this hallway.

Blint raised his voice " Time to go, Looks like they are going to be massing for a charge." Blint hoped that Deathstroke had an exit strategy that did not involve a risk of a five-floor drop.
 
"I got what I came for." Deathstroke said, holding a metal box in his hand. He turned to leave the vault, coming to stand behind Blint. "We can fight through them, but that would take time. I'm going out the window, the police will handle these guys. They won't follow." He told the other man, "But, like I said earlier, you might be problem."

He saw what Blint could do. The man was a gunman. But, his skill with guns probably meant very little when a mercenary like Deathstroke was so close to him. Deathstroke drew a knife from his body and ducked down low, using it to slice deep into Blint's boot and hopefully very deep into his ankles.

Deathstroke was a man of his word, and maybe he would meet Blint again one day. Maybe in the next 25 years.
 
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