Almost a Party (DCU, AU, PG-R, 2/?)
Title: Almost a Party (2/?)
Fandom:DCU, Bat-Family Centered
Characters: Corvid/Gotham, Mentions of the Bat-Family and other DCU Characters
Word Count: 2937
Rating: PG-R for swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own the location of Gotham or the Bat-Crew, or any other DC owned Characters/Locations
Synopsis: Corvid has friends and enemies. She intends to make it clear which is which.
Previous Chapters: Tonight
Author's Notes: This takes place in my Keeperverse. I'm having so much fun with this. Lots of other Keepers are introduced in this Chapter.
Gotham allows herself a small smirk as she assesses the bar. The other Keepers of importance are all here, friends and enemies, and every single one of them is watching as she struts through the door. She slides off her sunglasses, normally she would keep them on, but she wants people to see when she’s glaring. She walks immediately over to the table hosting the two people she loathes here more than anybody else. David Clarkson and Polly Smith… David, known better as D.C. was one of the chief promoters of NML, not that he’d ever admit it, that wouldn’t be politically smart and he is a politician at heart. He’s actually a Congressman, the kind with a smile that’s too plastic and too bright to ever truly be comforting. Polly Smith is the twin sister of Metro Smith and Gotham believes she’s the reason the phrase “evil twin” exists. Of the two siblings, she’s definitely Metropolis’ evil, snobby, capitalistic, bitchy half. Polly’s tall, Twiggy thin, extremely pale with a pinched sort of face and shockingly white hair that’s always pulled back in some severely tight way. Her brother Metro is one of the few people that Gotham counts amongst her friends. He’s as tall as his sister but that’s about the only thing they have in common. His hair is black and always has that same little curl in it that Superman has, he’s incredibly well-muscled, and has more of a tan to his skin than would seem normal on a North East trust fund kid. Gotham thinks of him as the half of Metropolis that Superman represents, he’s always the first guy who wants to save the orphans, pull kittens out of trees and help old ladies across the street. To top it all off he’s an actual Boy Scout, she remembers how proud he was when he earned his status as an Eagle Scout and it was everything she could do to avoid laughing. Polly’s the elitist with the huge crush on Lex Luthor, the belief that Superman is an interloping alien who should stay out of human affairs, that humans are better than any other race and that she is better than anybody else.
A part of Corvid is actually grateful that her mother didn’t give her name that meant Gotham; she’s an anomaly amongst her kind but not just because of her name. She is the youngest Keeper ever. Most Keepers don’t come into their powers until their 16th birthday. At that point, the previous Keeper (usually a parent or Grandparent because these things tend to run in family lines, although there are exceptions) starts training them in the duties and difficulties of the job. Sometime after that the elder Keeper will pass over fully guardianship of the city’s spirit to the new recruit. Gotham had nobody to guide her. She was born with the spirit of the city, came fully into her powers at a younger age than anybody else ever had, and there was no living Keeper left to guide her through anything. The last Keeper before Corvid was Martha Wayne. It’s practically unheard for a Keeper to die without somebody to take over for them. It’s happened a few times in the past, but those cities were pretty much destroyed so there was no city left to embody. Nobody has ever been born so fully linked to their city, no child has ever gained their Keeper abilities, and nobody knows why it happened now. To the rest of the Keepers, Gotham is a bit of a freak and a mystery. Not that she minds, she has never felt the need to fit in.
She doesn’t return the fake smiles that DC and Polly are turning on her. She levels her best “Batman Glare” at them and feels a grim satisfaction when the physically flinch. In the back of her mind she registers that somebody has put Muse’s “Uprising” on the jukebox and she can’t help but feel certain that it was Star, he’s a raging smartass. The table they’re sitting at has gone silent along with all of the other people in the room which works for Gotham; she wants them all to hear this.
She drops her voice into it‘s lowest registers and puts all of her anger into her statement so that there is absolutely no mistaking the fact that she is making a threat, “I know it was you.” Five little words but that’s all that needs to be said. More threats would ruin the effect, in her experience it‘s the quiet, brief types that are the most terrifying. Even the Joker is more frightening when he gets quiet. So she resists the urge to start monologuing like a hyper super villain although she desperately wants to launch into the monologue from Tommy Boy. It would be so much fun to look DC dead in the eye and say, “I know where you live and I've seen where you sleep. I swear to everything holy that your mothers will cry when they see what I've done to you.”
She’s pretty sure the movie reference would go over their heads. The important thing is now they know, as do all of their little acolytes at their table. All of those who subtly used their influence to make normally decent people believe that it was okay to abandon her people to die are now fully aware that she has their number. She will see justice done, though, of that they can all be sure. She doesn’t care if she has to hack every computer in the country and break into everyone of their houses, she will find everything that they go to bed at night praying stays hidden and she will drag it all kicking and screaming into the light.
She feels a hand on her shoulder and fights the urge to grab and twist it into an arm lock, she doesn’t like people touching her if she isn’t ready for it, but the voice is friendly and she relaxes a little. “You don’t want to waste your time with these half-wit, fat-cat, assholes- they aren’t worth it,” Star has enough hatred for Gotham’s enemies in his voice that she feels like her work at that table is done and follows Star over to the table that he’d called to her from when she first walked in. As conversation pick up again all over the bar he asks in a much quieter voice, “Why didn’t you come over when you first came in? We’d have been happy to go over there with you. You don’t have to do everything alone.”
There’s the crux, she does. She’s always felt alone in a way that she had only ever thought one person understood when she was little- Batman. Then somebody else who felt just as lonely came along, he and Batman got together and suddenly they weren’t so lonely anymore… but knowing they were out there made her feel like she wasn’t so alone anymore either. Then she noticed somebody else, a little boy with nobody to love him who was watching Batman and Robin as closely as she was. He was smart and small and lonely and she loved him instantly. Even if he didn’t know it, didn’t know her, she was watching him the way he was watching the Bats. He was part of her family now too and she would do all she could to protect him. She wanted to protect Jason too, he was always a rebel and she was happy when Gotham became his cause. She still loves him, she still believes in him, and she knows that in his own way he’ll do all he can to help things in the city.
Looking around at the table she’s being lead towards she can already see Metro looking like he was half a heartbeat away from jumping up, running over to his sister’s table and attempting to rescue Gotham whether she needed it or not. She can also see Manhattan and Bronx are at the table but it looks like a few of the other Burroughs are challenging a couple of the New Jersey Cities to various games of darts, pool, and beer pong. Themy, the lone Amazonian here is chatting with Frisco about homophobic tendencies of The World of Men. Keystone and Central, the redheaded twins are making bets about how much they can eat, trying to lure anybody else at the table into a contest with them. Atlan is there but fortunately his sometimes nice somebody crazy sister isn’t. There’s a new boy there and she has a sneaking suspicion that this all new to him. She takes a seat and orders a drink, not that she actually drinks, but she’s really good at pretending to drink. She offers up a half-smile at Star, “I know you’d have wanted to help, but you didn’t need to, I handled it.”
Star sits down next to her and flashes that killer smile again, “I know I didn’t need to help. You never need help, but I still hate them and want to ream them up one side and down the other.” She can’t help but think he’s kind of cute when he starts getting on a soapbox. Star’s always passionate about something; usually he’s putting that passion into the right things. It helps that he’s gorgeous. He has strawberry-blonde hair that looks more red or blonde depending on the day and his mood. His eyes are an intensely bright green and he’s built with those broad archer’s shoulders that make her melt just a little inside… not that she’d ever let him know it. Largely because he’s such a notorious womanizer, but mostly because she just doesn’t have room in her life for that kind of relationship. Star smiles a little at Metro and says, “Sorry, I know Polly’s your sister but…”
Metro didn’t need him to finish the statement and looks more than a little relieved when Star trails off, “I know what Polly is, so apologies aren’t necessary.”
Frisco grins at Gotham, “I just love your outfit. I mean, I thought that I would be one of the best dressed here but your outfit is one of those pictures that worth way more than a thousand words.” Gotham has to fight a giggle that would ruin her reputation when he leans closer and conspiratorially asks, “And where did you get those jeans? They’re so Apocalypse chic.”
“No Man’s Land, but I’m glad you like. When you’re dressing for the Apocalypse it’s important to keep fashion in mind. Just because the world’s going to hell in a hand basket, there is no excuse not to look your best,” She lets a small grin slip out and winks at Frisco. It’s a rare event but seems to go far towards lightening the mood of the table.
Star reaches over and touches one of the holes in her jeans where the fishnets are peeking through, “I think that you only wore those to show off your stockings. Just admit that you’re trying to seduce me and we’ll all go home happy.”
Themy, a bronzed skin Amazon with dark brown hair and fierce eyes snaps back at him, “You think every woman is trying to seduce you. I’m fairly certain that you go to funerals and hit on the corpses.”
“I’ve never hit on you… except that one time,” Star’s almost blushing now.
“That’s because I told you that if you ever tried it again I would break off your dick, shove it down your throat and teach you the meaning of the word ‘pain’,” Themy grins at him, and she manages to look gorgeous and vicious all at the same time. Gotham loves her, she’s smart, tough, and never backs down from a challenge.
Star looks a little nervous but argues, “She knows what fishnets do to me. Come on, Pretty-Bird, don’t you want to get together and make little cities with me?”
Gotham knows better than to dignify that with a response, because attention will just encourage him. So she turns to the newest addition to the table, “Who’s the new kid?”
Manhattan smiles and introduces Smallville to Gotham, not that she really needed the introduction. (It was nice to learn his real name, since his parents had the good sense not to name him “Smallville” and Jonathan is a good name.) She knew who he was the moment she laid eyes on him, although she half-expected somebody to say that he was Metro’s kid brother because there is a strong resemblance. She just nods when Metro apologizes for not introducing her to his cousin. In a room filled with representatives of major cities Smallville stands out. In her mind he’s one of the few there who looks like an honest, hard working American who probably spends a lot more time trying to make his little town better than worrying about ways to gain power over other cities and Keepers. Nothing about his plaid shirt over a t-shirt and worn jeans screams ‘Social Climber’ and it makes her think that she might actually like the guy given half-a-chance.
“Welcome to the club, Smallville. With any luck you’ll get out of here tonight before Beverly, as in the Hills, tries to make you her next conquest,” Gotham nods towards where Beverly is not so subtly crossing and uncrossing her legs while licking her lips and staring at Smallville like he’s about to be dinner.
The poor kid turns about five shades paler and shutters a little… that just makes Gotham like him more. He looks desperate to change the subject when he asks, “Is Gotham your given name?”
“I don’t have a given name,” Gotham does her best to look dark and mysterious.
“Everybody has a real name,” Smallville counters.
“Gotham is my real name, but that isn’t what you asked. You asked if it was my given name and that’s entirely different story,” She can’t help but think that nothing has ever really been given to her. She’s more than paid the price for everything she has.
Frisco laughs, “Don’t worry about it. Gotham likes her mysteries. That‘s why her Champion is known as a Detective.”
“The Detective,” Four other people at the table correct Frisco so automatically that she doesn’t even have an opportunity to do it herself. They all know her opinions well enough to know that she’ll suffer any personal insult, but she takes her heroes seriously.
“Anything fascinating going on tomorrow night?” Gotham asks, genuinely curious to see what everybody who doesn’t live in a city that goes certifiable Arkham worthy on Halloween does for fun.
Smallville is the first to pipe up, “I have plans with my friend Conner Kent to check out the party at school. He’s going to be bringing his girlfriend who lives out of town, so it’s kind of a big deal.”
Frisco gets a positively devilish grin, “You’re still in High School. Oh aren’t you just cutest piece of jailbait there ever was?”
Smallville turns bright red and looks so embarrassed that Corvid changes the subject just a little bit, “Kent? Any relation to the famous reporter Clark Kent?” It’s a question she knows the answer to, but the kid looks relieved to start gushing about Clark. She doesn’t doubt for a moment that this kid belongs to the Superman fan club (heck, he probably give Jimmy Olsen a run for his money) and that he knows Clark’s secret… some of the Keepers have a deep enough connection to their cities and heroes that they just know who their Champions really are. Luckily they don't know about anybody outside of their own city, in most cases if they want to know those secrets they have to figure them out themselves and really, most of them aren’t smart enough to come close to doing that. Only those who are really truly in line with their heroes can sense the truth in the first place though, so there’s little risk of Smallville ever revealing Clark and Conner to anybody. Gotham will still keep an eye on him though, just in case. Those Supers are some of the few friends her boys have and she’ll be damned if she lets anybody take them away.
After Smallville finishes gushing about the Kents, Frisco starts to tell everybody about a huge party held every year in his city where all the “Vampires” gather and it actually sounds like fun. Everybody goes around the table talking about their Halloween plans and costumes and for a few minutes Gotham feels almost like a normal girl hanging out with her friends. For a few minutes she forgets that she has no family to go home to, that they were slaughtered in front of her when she was still small. She forgets that every person in this room is a mystical being whose existence is a closely guarded secret. She doesn’t think about the fact that she’s so paranoid she watches her closest friends as much as her enemies because she just can’t help herself. Then the clock strikes twelve and she can feel the magic and madness begin to stir just as the Phantom Stranger appears in order to preside over a little bit of Keeper business. As the wild wonder of Halloween starts to flow through her any illusions of being normal are shattered. She knows that she will never be a normal girl with a family that give her hugs and friends that she trusts with her deepest secrets. She knows that it wasn’t real… but it was nice while it lasted.
Chatter
Fandom:DCU, Bat-Family Centered
Characters: Corvid/Gotham, Mentions of the Bat-Family and other DCU Characters
Word Count: 2937
Rating: PG-R for swearing
Disclaimer: I don't own the location of Gotham or the Bat-Crew, or any other DC owned Characters/Locations
Synopsis: Corvid has friends and enemies. She intends to make it clear which is which.
Previous Chapters: Tonight
Author's Notes: This takes place in my Keeperverse. I'm having so much fun with this. Lots of other Keepers are introduced in this Chapter.
Gotham allows herself a small smirk as she assesses the bar. The other Keepers of importance are all here, friends and enemies, and every single one of them is watching as she struts through the door. She slides off her sunglasses, normally she would keep them on, but she wants people to see when she’s glaring. She walks immediately over to the table hosting the two people she loathes here more than anybody else. David Clarkson and Polly Smith… David, known better as D.C. was one of the chief promoters of NML, not that he’d ever admit it, that wouldn’t be politically smart and he is a politician at heart. He’s actually a Congressman, the kind with a smile that’s too plastic and too bright to ever truly be comforting. Polly Smith is the twin sister of Metro Smith and Gotham believes she’s the reason the phrase “evil twin” exists. Of the two siblings, she’s definitely Metropolis’ evil, snobby, capitalistic, bitchy half. Polly’s tall, Twiggy thin, extremely pale with a pinched sort of face and shockingly white hair that’s always pulled back in some severely tight way. Her brother Metro is one of the few people that Gotham counts amongst her friends. He’s as tall as his sister but that’s about the only thing they have in common. His hair is black and always has that same little curl in it that Superman has, he’s incredibly well-muscled, and has more of a tan to his skin than would seem normal on a North East trust fund kid. Gotham thinks of him as the half of Metropolis that Superman represents, he’s always the first guy who wants to save the orphans, pull kittens out of trees and help old ladies across the street. To top it all off he’s an actual Boy Scout, she remembers how proud he was when he earned his status as an Eagle Scout and it was everything she could do to avoid laughing. Polly’s the elitist with the huge crush on Lex Luthor, the belief that Superman is an interloping alien who should stay out of human affairs, that humans are better than any other race and that she is better than anybody else.
A part of Corvid is actually grateful that her mother didn’t give her name that meant Gotham; she’s an anomaly amongst her kind but not just because of her name. She is the youngest Keeper ever. Most Keepers don’t come into their powers until their 16th birthday. At that point, the previous Keeper (usually a parent or Grandparent because these things tend to run in family lines, although there are exceptions) starts training them in the duties and difficulties of the job. Sometime after that the elder Keeper will pass over fully guardianship of the city’s spirit to the new recruit. Gotham had nobody to guide her. She was born with the spirit of the city, came fully into her powers at a younger age than anybody else ever had, and there was no living Keeper left to guide her through anything. The last Keeper before Corvid was Martha Wayne. It’s practically unheard for a Keeper to die without somebody to take over for them. It’s happened a few times in the past, but those cities were pretty much destroyed so there was no city left to embody. Nobody has ever been born so fully linked to their city, no child has ever gained their Keeper abilities, and nobody knows why it happened now. To the rest of the Keepers, Gotham is a bit of a freak and a mystery. Not that she minds, she has never felt the need to fit in.
She doesn’t return the fake smiles that DC and Polly are turning on her. She levels her best “Batman Glare” at them and feels a grim satisfaction when the physically flinch. In the back of her mind she registers that somebody has put Muse’s “Uprising” on the jukebox and she can’t help but feel certain that it was Star, he’s a raging smartass. The table they’re sitting at has gone silent along with all of the other people in the room which works for Gotham; she wants them all to hear this.
She drops her voice into it‘s lowest registers and puts all of her anger into her statement so that there is absolutely no mistaking the fact that she is making a threat, “I know it was you.” Five little words but that’s all that needs to be said. More threats would ruin the effect, in her experience it‘s the quiet, brief types that are the most terrifying. Even the Joker is more frightening when he gets quiet. So she resists the urge to start monologuing like a hyper super villain although she desperately wants to launch into the monologue from Tommy Boy. It would be so much fun to look DC dead in the eye and say, “I know where you live and I've seen where you sleep. I swear to everything holy that your mothers will cry when they see what I've done to you.”
She’s pretty sure the movie reference would go over their heads. The important thing is now they know, as do all of their little acolytes at their table. All of those who subtly used their influence to make normally decent people believe that it was okay to abandon her people to die are now fully aware that she has their number. She will see justice done, though, of that they can all be sure. She doesn’t care if she has to hack every computer in the country and break into everyone of their houses, she will find everything that they go to bed at night praying stays hidden and she will drag it all kicking and screaming into the light.
She feels a hand on her shoulder and fights the urge to grab and twist it into an arm lock, she doesn’t like people touching her if she isn’t ready for it, but the voice is friendly and she relaxes a little. “You don’t want to waste your time with these half-wit, fat-cat, assholes- they aren’t worth it,” Star has enough hatred for Gotham’s enemies in his voice that she feels like her work at that table is done and follows Star over to the table that he’d called to her from when she first walked in. As conversation pick up again all over the bar he asks in a much quieter voice, “Why didn’t you come over when you first came in? We’d have been happy to go over there with you. You don’t have to do everything alone.”
There’s the crux, she does. She’s always felt alone in a way that she had only ever thought one person understood when she was little- Batman. Then somebody else who felt just as lonely came along, he and Batman got together and suddenly they weren’t so lonely anymore… but knowing they were out there made her feel like she wasn’t so alone anymore either. Then she noticed somebody else, a little boy with nobody to love him who was watching Batman and Robin as closely as she was. He was smart and small and lonely and she loved him instantly. Even if he didn’t know it, didn’t know her, she was watching him the way he was watching the Bats. He was part of her family now too and she would do all she could to protect him. She wanted to protect Jason too, he was always a rebel and she was happy when Gotham became his cause. She still loves him, she still believes in him, and she knows that in his own way he’ll do all he can to help things in the city.
Looking around at the table she’s being lead towards she can already see Metro looking like he was half a heartbeat away from jumping up, running over to his sister’s table and attempting to rescue Gotham whether she needed it or not. She can also see Manhattan and Bronx are at the table but it looks like a few of the other Burroughs are challenging a couple of the New Jersey Cities to various games of darts, pool, and beer pong. Themy, the lone Amazonian here is chatting with Frisco about homophobic tendencies of The World of Men. Keystone and Central, the redheaded twins are making bets about how much they can eat, trying to lure anybody else at the table into a contest with them. Atlan is there but fortunately his sometimes nice somebody crazy sister isn’t. There’s a new boy there and she has a sneaking suspicion that this all new to him. She takes a seat and orders a drink, not that she actually drinks, but she’s really good at pretending to drink. She offers up a half-smile at Star, “I know you’d have wanted to help, but you didn’t need to, I handled it.”
Star sits down next to her and flashes that killer smile again, “I know I didn’t need to help. You never need help, but I still hate them and want to ream them up one side and down the other.” She can’t help but think he’s kind of cute when he starts getting on a soapbox. Star’s always passionate about something; usually he’s putting that passion into the right things. It helps that he’s gorgeous. He has strawberry-blonde hair that looks more red or blonde depending on the day and his mood. His eyes are an intensely bright green and he’s built with those broad archer’s shoulders that make her melt just a little inside… not that she’d ever let him know it. Largely because he’s such a notorious womanizer, but mostly because she just doesn’t have room in her life for that kind of relationship. Star smiles a little at Metro and says, “Sorry, I know Polly’s your sister but…”
Metro didn’t need him to finish the statement and looks more than a little relieved when Star trails off, “I know what Polly is, so apologies aren’t necessary.”
Frisco grins at Gotham, “I just love your outfit. I mean, I thought that I would be one of the best dressed here but your outfit is one of those pictures that worth way more than a thousand words.” Gotham has to fight a giggle that would ruin her reputation when he leans closer and conspiratorially asks, “And where did you get those jeans? They’re so Apocalypse chic.”
“No Man’s Land, but I’m glad you like. When you’re dressing for the Apocalypse it’s important to keep fashion in mind. Just because the world’s going to hell in a hand basket, there is no excuse not to look your best,” She lets a small grin slip out and winks at Frisco. It’s a rare event but seems to go far towards lightening the mood of the table.
Star reaches over and touches one of the holes in her jeans where the fishnets are peeking through, “I think that you only wore those to show off your stockings. Just admit that you’re trying to seduce me and we’ll all go home happy.”
Themy, a bronzed skin Amazon with dark brown hair and fierce eyes snaps back at him, “You think every woman is trying to seduce you. I’m fairly certain that you go to funerals and hit on the corpses.”
“I’ve never hit on you… except that one time,” Star’s almost blushing now.
“That’s because I told you that if you ever tried it again I would break off your dick, shove it down your throat and teach you the meaning of the word ‘pain’,” Themy grins at him, and she manages to look gorgeous and vicious all at the same time. Gotham loves her, she’s smart, tough, and never backs down from a challenge.
Star looks a little nervous but argues, “She knows what fishnets do to me. Come on, Pretty-Bird, don’t you want to get together and make little cities with me?”
Gotham knows better than to dignify that with a response, because attention will just encourage him. So she turns to the newest addition to the table, “Who’s the new kid?”
Manhattan smiles and introduces Smallville to Gotham, not that she really needed the introduction. (It was nice to learn his real name, since his parents had the good sense not to name him “Smallville” and Jonathan is a good name.) She knew who he was the moment she laid eyes on him, although she half-expected somebody to say that he was Metro’s kid brother because there is a strong resemblance. She just nods when Metro apologizes for not introducing her to his cousin. In a room filled with representatives of major cities Smallville stands out. In her mind he’s one of the few there who looks like an honest, hard working American who probably spends a lot more time trying to make his little town better than worrying about ways to gain power over other cities and Keepers. Nothing about his plaid shirt over a t-shirt and worn jeans screams ‘Social Climber’ and it makes her think that she might actually like the guy given half-a-chance.
“Welcome to the club, Smallville. With any luck you’ll get out of here tonight before Beverly, as in the Hills, tries to make you her next conquest,” Gotham nods towards where Beverly is not so subtly crossing and uncrossing her legs while licking her lips and staring at Smallville like he’s about to be dinner.
The poor kid turns about five shades paler and shutters a little… that just makes Gotham like him more. He looks desperate to change the subject when he asks, “Is Gotham your given name?”
“I don’t have a given name,” Gotham does her best to look dark and mysterious.
“Everybody has a real name,” Smallville counters.
“Gotham is my real name, but that isn’t what you asked. You asked if it was my given name and that’s entirely different story,” She can’t help but think that nothing has ever really been given to her. She’s more than paid the price for everything she has.
Frisco laughs, “Don’t worry about it. Gotham likes her mysteries. That‘s why her Champion is known as a Detective.”
“The Detective,” Four other people at the table correct Frisco so automatically that she doesn’t even have an opportunity to do it herself. They all know her opinions well enough to know that she’ll suffer any personal insult, but she takes her heroes seriously.
“Anything fascinating going on tomorrow night?” Gotham asks, genuinely curious to see what everybody who doesn’t live in a city that goes certifiable Arkham worthy on Halloween does for fun.
Smallville is the first to pipe up, “I have plans with my friend Conner Kent to check out the party at school. He’s going to be bringing his girlfriend who lives out of town, so it’s kind of a big deal.”
Frisco gets a positively devilish grin, “You’re still in High School. Oh aren’t you just cutest piece of jailbait there ever was?”
Smallville turns bright red and looks so embarrassed that Corvid changes the subject just a little bit, “Kent? Any relation to the famous reporter Clark Kent?” It’s a question she knows the answer to, but the kid looks relieved to start gushing about Clark. She doesn’t doubt for a moment that this kid belongs to the Superman fan club (heck, he probably give Jimmy Olsen a run for his money) and that he knows Clark’s secret… some of the Keepers have a deep enough connection to their cities and heroes that they just know who their Champions really are. Luckily they don't know about anybody outside of their own city, in most cases if they want to know those secrets they have to figure them out themselves and really, most of them aren’t smart enough to come close to doing that. Only those who are really truly in line with their heroes can sense the truth in the first place though, so there’s little risk of Smallville ever revealing Clark and Conner to anybody. Gotham will still keep an eye on him though, just in case. Those Supers are some of the few friends her boys have and she’ll be damned if she lets anybody take them away.
After Smallville finishes gushing about the Kents, Frisco starts to tell everybody about a huge party held every year in his city where all the “Vampires” gather and it actually sounds like fun. Everybody goes around the table talking about their Halloween plans and costumes and for a few minutes Gotham feels almost like a normal girl hanging out with her friends. For a few minutes she forgets that she has no family to go home to, that they were slaughtered in front of her when she was still small. She forgets that every person in this room is a mystical being whose existence is a closely guarded secret. She doesn’t think about the fact that she’s so paranoid she watches her closest friends as much as her enemies because she just can’t help herself. Then the clock strikes twelve and she can feel the magic and madness begin to stir just as the Phantom Stranger appears in order to preside over a little bit of Keeper business. As the wild wonder of Halloween starts to flow through her any illusions of being normal are shattered. She knows that she will never be a normal girl with a family that give her hugs and friends that she trusts with her deepest secrets. She knows that it wasn’t real… but it was nice while it lasted.
Chatter