Ch 1 Built Different

I open my eyes for the first in what felt like years. Or at least I think I do, cuz what I ' see' is a giant explosion of color. Writhing and dancing upon my gaze. Then my eyes adjust and I see it. Well "seeing" it is the wrong word, more like I can pick out certain features it has. Like in that mesh of purple, the nose. The trail of orange, the mouth. The swirls of black and smoky blue, the eyes. At first it was a giant lion head, then a goat, it was a hippo, and now it's an owl. Always changing, constantly shifting. What felt days the beast finally spoke, " WHAT DO YOU SEEk". A spark of confusion flares to life in my mind, ' my abilities' that's what I came here for. What we all come here for. Yet something spoke for me, a strong and sarcastic voice with an edge of intelligence, " I am tired ####, In my next #### # w### ## ## ###### #### no memory, no overpowered foresight. Grant me 3 things, 3 things that's all I ask".

€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€€

Gotham city: Dunllun Alleyway 11:40pm 2006

I wake up to the feeling of immense pain lingering throughout my body. It's been weeks since I've last tasted anything but dog shit and the occasional insect. This body heals faster than most, the the faded scars and welts that once were gushing out my life healed in a matter of seconds. Not enough to claim immortality, just enough to keep me alive from the most lethal of wounds.

I crawl till I hit one the numerous trash cans that occupy the alleyways of this hellhole of a city. A rotten piece of pizza, crust eaten and thrown away. A cartoon of spoiled milk, drenched in a concoction of mildew and other undesirable liquids. Eaten slowly so as to conserve energy, chased it down with the vile poison. That was breakfast. This body breaks things down easier than most, otherwise I'd be dead.

As I stumble out of the alleyway I call my ' home', I wonder what went wrong. I shake it off and move on. I pass by the rich and wealthy, the hold themselves tighter so as avoid my itchy hands. Too bad no matter what they do, they are going to return home with a hundred dollars less. I make my way to a club on the north side of Berkeley and Erst. The bouncer there stood me from entering, " beat it kid!", he eyes me coldly. He must be new.

I can't blame him it's not everyday you meet a 14 year old, malnourished and homeless teenager saying that they are a regular here at this club. It boggles the mind how anyone would willingly let that slide. Do they want to be fired? Of course not.

Unfortunately for him, I am in fact a regular here and my employer always show up to get me out this mess. " What they fuck do you think you're doing?", the bouncer turns around in a flash, the large form of the unexpected speaker startles the bouncer, his eyes come gaze to gaze with my employers monocle that shines with the capitalist greed of a businessman. " I'm sorry sir, this kid won't leave no matter how many times I ask him to". " now why in the hell would you do that, the 'kid' as you call him happens to bring me a lot of money", the short saggy and left footed boss practically oozes irritation. " sorry sir!", he lets me by and I smile and say, " thanks Mr. Copplepot".