Yeah, um, I got nothing.
Title: Credo
Summary: Gotham is unique in many ways, including its religions.
Author's Notes: I talked to Marcelo and Nokomis. Such things are dangerous.
Thanks so much to brown_betty for the amazingly awesome beta.
These are the things every tourist in Gotham knows: go nowhere on the second day of February or December.
Do not injure a cat.
Do not go near Park Row.
Avoid clowns and toy stores.
Do not wear red and green and yellow.
Do not pick a flower in Robinson Park.
These are the things some tourists in Gotham know: if you are asked a riddle, do not answer. Just run.
If you see a puppet, walk away. Slowly, and as unobtrusively as you can manage.
If you see a tattoo reading OG, show respect to its wearer.
Crocodiles in the sewers are not just an urban legend.
These are the things no tourist in Gotham knows: in the middle of the city, where the grime and the blood and the stink of despair is worst, there is a building with a bat carved into the lintel.
If you step inside, you will see engraved pictures framing the altar, gleaming in the shadowy moonlight. One is of a child, beaming and turning a cartwheel over weapons scattered on the grime beneath him. One is of a boy with a hard smirk and a hand outstretched to aid the woman on the street. One is of a barely-visible youth in the painted shadows spinning a staff over his hands. One is of a grinning girl in flight with blood like freckles on her face.
Carved into the altar itself is the simplest picture. It is a black bat inside a circle, nothing more.
If you look through the barred window above the altar, you will see the signal, lighting the way.
-- Finis
Summary: Gotham is unique in many ways, including its religions.
Author's Notes: I talked to Marcelo and Nokomis. Such things are dangerous.
Thanks so much to brown_betty for the amazingly awesome beta.
These are the things every tourist in Gotham knows: go nowhere on the second day of February or December.
Do not injure a cat.
Do not go near Park Row.
Avoid clowns and toy stores.
Do not wear red and green and yellow.
Do not pick a flower in Robinson Park.
These are the things some tourists in Gotham know: if you are asked a riddle, do not answer. Just run.
If you see a puppet, walk away. Slowly, and as unobtrusively as you can manage.
If you see a tattoo reading OG, show respect to its wearer.
Crocodiles in the sewers are not just an urban legend.
These are the things no tourist in Gotham knows: in the middle of the city, where the grime and the blood and the stink of despair is worst, there is a building with a bat carved into the lintel.
If you step inside, you will see engraved pictures framing the altar, gleaming in the shadowy moonlight. One is of a child, beaming and turning a cartwheel over weapons scattered on the grime beneath him. One is of a boy with a hard smirk and a hand outstretched to aid the woman on the street. One is of a barely-visible youth in the painted shadows spinning a staff over his hands. One is of a grinning girl in flight with blood like freckles on her face.
Carved into the altar itself is the simplest picture. It is a black bat inside a circle, nothing more.
If you look through the barred window above the altar, you will see the signal, lighting the way.
-- Finis