Post by Drake on Sept 1, 2014 13:11:00 GMT -5
Ultimate ‘Haven Annual #1-2
Part 1
Before the Beginning
By Drake
Part 1
Before the Beginning
By Drake
The moon gleamed down over the Haven, planting silver specks on the face of one particular teenage boy: Jason Todd. Jason was like most other teens in many ways. He loved messing around with his friends, sleeping, and girls. However, one of Jason’s hobbies would make him stand out as very, very unique amongst any crowd of horny pubescent young men. He was a thief, and a damn good one at that.
Jason had been working his way through the Haven underground, using his particular set of skills to catch the eye of the people up top; the people who would give him a job. Word had begun to get out. When you want something, Jay Todd’s your man to get it.
And so it was that Jason had gotten a letter from one of these very criminals. Well, Jason assumed it was a criminal. The letter—which was weird enough; who writes letters nowadays, anyway?—hadn’t had a return address or a name. Normally this sort of creepy behavior would have caused Jason to drop the job immediately, but now, with him finally in the spotlight, he couldn’t risk it. This could be his breakout heist!
The letter itself had asked something simple enough. Jason needed to steal a briefcase from some apartment on Thirtieth. So, Jason had thrown on his signature red hoodie and leather jacket, and walked down to the center of ‘Haven to an apartment building housing one Brown family.
Jason glanced around at the apartment and the surrounding buildings. The Browns were housed a couple of stories up, and the best way to reach them was by using the fire escape on the side. Only problem was, well, it was the fire escape. That was like the most stereotypical thing Jason could do. He needed something a little more subtle…a little more…
There.
Jason saw it. The story above the Browns’ apartment. An open window to an empty apartment. Wait…nobody was stupid enough to leave their empty apartment open in the Haven in the middle of the night. Jason sighed. He might as well scope it out anyway. If things went as planned—sadly, they never did—Jason knew just how to get the Browns out of their apartment long enough for him to steal the briefcase.
Jason entered the alley between the apartment complex and the next-door hipster club. Stereotypes aside, he had to admit ‘The Retro’ seemed interesting enough with its marble doors laced with neon lights and stocky, amusingly tightly-dressed bouncer. He’d have to remember it. Jason wasn’t one for hipsters, but at the very least, he could amuse himself with the rather obnoxious dress of the club’s inhabitants.
Turning his attention back to the job at hand, the young teen glanced up the alley, spotting his next move. He leaped up onto the side of the hipster club, grabbing hold of a loose brick. Next, Jason’s hand found a crack in the wall. Slowly but surely, with each jump, Jason found something to latch onto. Repressing the urge to peak inside the club, Jason leaped over a window and onto the roof.
This was it. Jason had found himself the perfect nesting point to gaze over the apartment complex. He was just a couple of stories over the open room, and now he could tell for sure that the apartment was empty. Something wasn’t right. An open apartment? No one home? It was too easy. All he had to do was go in, scream for help, and leap down to the Browns’ unsuspecting abode while the family attempted to help their terrified “neighbor.” Of course, that’s assuming the Browns weren’t heartless mobsters. Damn, Jason hated ‘Haven. You just never could tell the Bad from the Not-As-Bad. Well, what was that saying? Curiosity killed the dog? No, cat. That was it. Cat.
Jason hated cats.
The young thief reluctantly leaped out onto the fire escape. Yeah, he was that good…and, yeah, he was going to use the fire escape. There was a reason it was a stereotype.
Jason slid down confidently to the floor of the open apartment. What he found shocked him.
It really was empty. Nobody was home. Nothing seemed amiss. In other words, Admiral Ackbar was right.
It’s a trap.
Jason ducked to the ground, narrowly dodging a string of knives that propelled over his head and into the wall of the strip club. He would have liked to claim that he was so good that he heard the knives coming, but truth was Jason wasn’t some sort of superhuman, bad ass thief. He just knew the ‘Haven. Knife projectiles were everybody’s favorite trap. Forget that Indiana Jones ball crap.
Jason glanced inside. There was no point in even trying to go in there. The apartment had more hidden weapons than those Bird chicks running around ‘Haven. Something was clearly up. Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew a test when he saw one.
“Game on,” Jason whispered, grinning, before slowly crawling down the fire escape to the floor below, the top story of the Browns’ three-story apartment.
Naturally things could only get worse from there. After landing on the lower floor, Jason found himself nearly face to face with a cute blonde girl. The young woman was reading on the edge of her windowsill, eyes peeling over every word in the book. Jason silently cursed. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look…
She looked up. And it got worse.
Jason knew this girl. It was that chick from the food bank. Oh God…
“Jason?” the girl mouthed, opening up the window. She repeated, “Jason?”
“You, uh, know my name?” Jason didn’t have to feign embarrassment. He’d been caught.
The blonde nodded, before continuing, “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” Jason retorted, masking his embarrassment with stupidity. What to do? What to do??
“I…I live here,” the girl admitted, a mixture of emotions apparent on her face, “Seriously, what are you doing here?”
Jason glanced around, looking for anything to escape with, “I’m…uh, I live here. I mean, not here here, but there here.” Jason pointed to the floor above.
“No you don’t. Ms. Murphy lives there whenever she’s in town. I should know, I feed her fish for her when she’s gone,” the girl replied, a thousand thoughts leaping into her mind.
“Yeah…” Jason shrugged his shoulders, “I’m her nephew.”
“But you’re homeless?”
“Until she found me.”
“Right…” Jason knew he wasn’t tricking this girl…whatever her name was. Something Brown. Why the hell did it have to be her apartment? Why the hell did she have to be here?
“Listen, I’ve uh, gotta go,” Jason murmured, turning away from the blonde.
“Why are you using the fire escape?”
“I practice parkour,” Jason explained, leaping over the edge of the fire escape and onto the floor below, “See ya.”
“Stephanie!” the girl shouted.
Jason didn’t respond, leaping down another floor.
“I’ve never introduced myself! I’m Stephanie!”
And that was the last Jason heard from that girl…for a while.
So, his job? Compromised. But he wasn’t done yet. Jason looked over his shoulder into the first floor of the Browns’ apartment. The lights were out. Seemed like the parents weren’t home. Jason looked up. Stephanie had returned to her room. Good. The game was still on.
Jason scanned over the window’s lock. It would be easy enough to pick, but the problem was the alarm system. Wealthy family the Browns were, and in a city like ‘Haven? There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that they didn’t have an alarm system. Or a big ass guard dog. Hell, probably both.
But Jason wasn’t finished. He’d dealt with alarms and dogs before. He was the best after all.
Jason pulled his phone out of his pocket and searched through it for an app. A few clicks later and he’d managed to hack into their security system and disable it. Too easy. Now if there was a dog…
Jason picked the lock on the window and opened it slowly, cautiously. Jay sneaked quietly through the house. No dog, at least yet. That was good. Too good. Lights turned on.
“Steph, hon, you need to go to bed! It’s getting late! Tonight’s a school night, remember?” a sweet, motherly voice called out from the second floor. Jason frowned. Stephanie was lucky. Jason had never had a mother to get onto him about staying up late. In fact, the best Jay had was a drugged up dad who couldn’t do much more than dope up so much he was unconscious before hitting the doormat. Not that Jason was complaining. He had it decent after leaving his father behind.
Jason sighed, and continued on through the apartment. He scanned his surroundings. Drawers, a table, chairs…he was in the kitchen. And there it was. The briefcase. Too easy. Always too easy. Jason picked up the case, and of course everything went to hell. A siren went off. Who the hell bugs a briefcase? God, whatever was in here better be important!!
Jason threw open a window as one of the Browns pattered down the stairs. Shit! The young thief grabbed the briefcase and threw himself through the open window. Don’t’ die. Don’t die don’t die don’t die don’t…
Trash. Jason landed in the trash…can. Ow.
Jason forced himself up, shaking off a sprained ankle to run away. He could hear someone screaming after him. No time to look back now. He’d nearly blown it. What the hell?
But it didn’t matter now. He’d gotten the case. All was well. Now, he just needed to meet with his employer.
Where had the letter said to meet up? That’s right…
The Docks
Jason leaned onto a light pole, attempting to take the weight off his injured ankle. It wasn’t serious, but the damn thing hurt like hell. Jason gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain to sit on the ground. Finally, some relief.
‘Course his client showed up right then.
The guy was tall, thin, dirty-looking…in fact, if Jason didn’t know any better, he’d say the guy looked like a hobo. What the hell?
Jason pushed himself up onto his feet, or rather foot.
“You the guy?” Jason asked.
“Show me the letter,” the man replied in a thick Boston accent. Something was off about this guy. The way he held himself, it was almost…eerie.
Jason pulled the letter out of his jacket pocket and flashed it to the man. The creepy hobo guy nodded.
“Give me the case.” Jason did as was told. In return, he received a wad of dollars and a letter.
“The hell is this?” Jason looked down to inspect the letter, and when he looked up, the man was gone.
“Weird…” Jason muttered, and without a second to lose, he ripped open the letter.
“Dear Mr. Jason Todd,” the boy read aloud, “It is my pleasure to congratulate you on your success in retrieving the briefcase. I realize the circumstances behind both the job and this second letter have left you with more questions than you can bear, and I promise they will be answered in time. However, before we can meet and before you can discover the truth, you must complete a few more jobs for me. Each time, the pay will increase by precisely 33%. After the last job, I will greet you with your final reward, something I imagine you will enjoy more than money or glory. My very best…CM.”
Jason paused to consider the letter, “CM…” The teen supposed it was a clue. Better than nothing, right?
And he wasn’t done. There was a second piece of parchment stashed behind the first. On it were a list of objects and addresses tied to them. A boxing glove from Wildcat’s Gym, a vial from…Gotham? Damn, that could be a trip. And there were more. Well, this wasn’t exactly his type of job, but the pay was good, so why not?
What was the worst that could happen?
Part 2
No Country for Outlaws
No Country for Outlaws
Sometime in the future
Growing up, I always wanted to be a hero. Call me self righteous, call me crazy, call me whatever, but that wouldn’t have stopped me. I looked outside my window and saw injustice, and I wanted nothing more than stop it. Hell, I lived in one of the nicer parts of ‘Haven and I still knew evil, true evil by the age of two. So, I guess it kind of makes sense that I developed a peculiar affinity for vigilantes and superheroes.
Of course, other people call it an obsession.
At age 8, I knew the codenames of every known vigilante in America. It helped I could use the Internet easily by the time I could read. I’ve always had a skill with computers. That only made my fantastic quest a little more achievable.
By age 10, I was regularly stopping bullies on the schoolyard. Age 12? I was hacking into mob bosses’ bank accounts and giving their money to the poor. Of course, that didn’t preclude me from giving some of my own. Funny thing is, little did I know I was giving twice over. My mother was a cousin to the Desmonds, the fiercest crime family in Blüdhaven. The lines between mob money and my family’s were incredibly blurred.
You could say I was born to be a hero. Reckless tendencies, a selfless nature, and an utter hate for all things bad, including my parents. I had all of those. Needless to say, things got out of hand.
I was caught. Valentine’s Day 2012, my mother walked in on me. I wasn’t fast enough. Years of hiding my history (for all the reasons you can imagine), and I couldn’t close an HTML page fast enough. ‘Course, it was that day, as my mother left the house in shock, still deciding on what to do with me, that the Owls hit.
The Blockbuster Event. Everyone in America remembers that night. So many died. One of the corpses strewn on the ground was my mother’s. At the age of 14, I lost my mom.
Later in the week, before my mother’s funeral, I discovered a voicemail my mom had left for my dad. She’d been proud of me. For years, she’d wanted to break away from the Desmonds, to fight back, but she had no choice but to stay. If she left, they would have killed us. But now, after all that had happened, after the Desmonds skipped out of town because of Red X and the others, she finally had a chance to step up. And then, to find out I’d been doing it the entire time…well, she was scared, but proud.
I cried for days before realizing that I needed to really, truly act against crime. Red X had sacrificed himself for the city. My mother had been killed by ruthless criminals after spending years suffering to keep me safe. Now, I had to act. No more measly hackings or fights with bullies. I needed to get serious.
Nearly a year of martial arts training and counseling later, and I almost got myself killed. On the anniversary of the Blockbuster, I set out to change ‘Haven. I ended up half dead in an alley. The only reason I’m still alive today was because the right man found me—Nightwing.
Now, nearly two years later, I’m still anything but ready, and I’m alone. I have to step up again, but this time it’s all or nothing, More than my life is on the line. The Haven is burning. Things are worse than ever. I know my destiny is probably to die for my city, just as the previous bearer of the Redbird mantle did...just as my mother died. That doesn’t mean I won’t go down fighting.
Whether it be locked in combat with Hoods, Zeus’ thugs, or as I find myself now, a Changeling, I won’t stop defending the people of Bludhaven. This is my city.
I am a hero.
But I was happy being a sidekick…
The Changeling is one of the werecats, a lion, in fact. It’s feral and incredibly fast. I’m not faster, but I am smarter.
I push the civilian aside—some girl who’d been unlucky enough to wander into this Changeling’s path—and take a direct hit from the meta. His claws rake across my Kevlar suit, tearing past it and into my skin. I bite my tongue, drawing blood and pushing past the pain.
Sacrificing a blow is the first step. The next is disabling the Changeling. I pull a small ball out of my utility belt as the lion-man tackles me into the ground. Before he can tear into my throat with his wicked sharp teeth, I shove the ball into his mouth and close it. He instinctively swallows. It takes only half a second for the device to take hold.
The Changeling shudders as the taser pellet activates. Two-and-a-half seconds. That’s how long I guess it’ll take him to faint. He goes down in two. Man, I’m off my game. Still, things worked out well enough. When I turn to help out the injured civilian, I discover she’s already run off. Smart. Smarter than me.
I can’t run.
I won’t run. That’s my mistake.
The next is relaxing, ignoring my training. Always be mindful of your surroundings.
Someone slams me into a wall. I know who it is before they open their mouth.
“Oh, Timothy,” prick dares to use my full name, “Still trying to play hero, I see. Didn’t get out while the getting was good? Didn’t follow the others?”
“Shut up!” I roar, trying to push away. I fail.
“Hush,” the man whispers, “It’ll all be over soon. I’ve won. ‘Haven is mine. The Outlaws are no more.”
“I’m still left! I’m still fighting!” I can’t lose. I can’t die. Not like this. There’s still so much to do. My dad…my city…I can’t lose them.
“Yes, yes.” He bashes my head into the wall. I can’t see straight. Concussion. My nose gushes blood, but it isn’t broken. “The Last Outlaw. Redbird. But you aren’t a real hero, are you, Timothy? Just a boy wearing his better’s clothes!”
He throws me onto the ground and flips me over. My vision has gone blurred. All I can make out is his silhouette in the rain. I try to mumble out a witty quip, a last declaration that I won’t stop fighting, but my words are unintelligible.
“I said hush, Timothy. Sleep. It’s over. You can rest now.”
With that final word, he begins to choke the life out of me.
It’s true. When you’re dying, you see your life flash before your eyes. I never realized how much I’ve lost, how much I’ve failed. This is it. It’s all over. One last failure to add to my horrible, wonderful, slightly psychotic superhero dream.
Heh. I may be about to die, but at least…at least it is as a hero.
Mom would be proud.
Tim’s story begins in ‘Haven volume 2…COMING SOON!
