This Is... Not What Was Planned - The Batman 2022

Rot by DBMK

Blaze was bored out of their mind. And cold. They'd tried adding a few more hoodies to their outfit, but it really wasn't helping. "God, Gotham Januarys are worse then the ones back home," they muttered to themselves.

Two months ago, Riddler had flooded Gotham in a attempt to cleanse (?) the city. Lots of people had died. Including Blaze's mother and siblings.

Now Blaze was wandering the streets of Gotham by themselves. They were currently in the center of town, pick-pocketing some of the people walking by.

Most of the water had returned to the harbor, but sections of town near the outer edge were still flooded.

Slowly, more and more people were returning home for the night. It was almost midnight. Blaze sighed before turning towards a familiar craft store. Sneak in, sneak out. No one suspects a thing. They thought as they entered, mask pulled over their nose.

They waved hello to the cashiers, feeling bad for stealing from them. The cashiers didn't do anything wrong, and were just trying to get by. But Blaze didn't have an ID to prove they were older then 18 (they weren't anyway), and you had to be 18 to legally buy spray paint.

Blaze used spray paint on old buildings no one cared about to deal with their feelings some days. Other days they scribbled illegible thoughts onto notebooks. Which reminded them, they needed some more writing supplies.

Sneaking back to the spray paint aisle, they made a show of looking at colors until the rotating security cams turned away. They hurriedly scraped the barcode off the cans, then waited for the next rotation of the camera to shove them in their bag. Standing up straighter, they walked away from the spray paint aisle with 5 new cans and a heavier backpack.

This damn thing is bound to break one of these days, they thought quietly as they went over to the school supplies area. They grabbed three thick notebooks and a pack of colored pencils and a pack of marker-pens before heading back to the cash registers.

They set down their items and pulled out a 50 dollar bill they picked just that morning. "Is that all for you today sir?" the worker asked. Blaze nodded. "Keep the change," they muttered once the worker had packed their items in a bag. They grabbed the bag and hurried out while the worker was still processing what they'd said.

It was now getting close to 1 AM. The Batsignal had been shining in the sky for a few hours now, but Blaze really wasn't afraid of it anymore. The first time it had come on when they were spraying the side of a dead someone's shed, they'd panicked and ran. But now, it occurred to them that Batman had little to no time for a small, insignificant kid spray painting buildings no one cared for.

So they continued on to their destination of the old creamery near the edge of town. The only people who occupied it now where ghosts, since most of the living were too afraid of the stories and creaky boards to go in.

The creamery was perched on the tip of a cliff, and had a waterwheel that had once reached the harbor. There was loads of stories of people disappearing in there, and the unsettling noises from rusty machinery and wood floors rotted by water and time didn't help people's will to go in. It was a perfect opportunity for Blaze to paint some thoughts of the walls.

Blaze had grown up on ghost stories and creaky hallways, living in the middle of nowhere. Their grandparents had been haunted by mainly nice ghosts, but when you go searching for the mean ones, its hard to avoid them.

Once Blaze had entered the creamery, they set their backpack on the floor and unpacked it a bit. At the very bottom of the bag was squished clothes, with everything else shoved on top. Multiple Xiploc bags held old family photos, notebooks, letters to old friends they'd never send, and some other things. They had some medical stuff too, but not much. They emptied the plastic bag from the craft store, and added the writing utensils to the Xiploc holding other notebooks.

They laid out the new notebooks on the floor, and covered them in blobs of color before taking out a thick white sharpie and writing out 'fuck' on one, 'tried' on another. They pondered for a moment what to write on the last one, before jokingly writing 'rot' on the last. Finally they pulled out some stickers they'd taught themself how to make and stuck the one with their logo on each notebook.

Content with their work, Blaze put the notebooks away and reopened both the old cans they had, and the new ones. Cans of gold, green, red, black, white, gray, silver and other shades of each form a half-moon shape behind their ankles as they hold a mossy green and burgundy in each hand.

Shaky hands aren't the best for spray paint, but Blaze liked to think it made their designs more original. So, after thinking for a few seconds of what they wanted to make, they began painting with a rising sun to their back.

°~◇~°

Around noon the next day- or technically that day, Blaze finished. There was streaks of color of their clothes, adding to their already messy shoes. As the sun rose, it had gotten warmer, so they'd stripped down to a white camp staff tee and their black acid-wash jeans. Their was even some streaks of green in their shoulder length undercut hair.

Sighing, Blaze pulled out the phone they'd kept. It didn't really have a plan on it anymore, but they just used it to take pictures and search the internet. They snapped a quick pic of their latest design before packing up and putting a hoodie back on. They knew it wouldn't take long for them to grow cold once again, so putting the hoodie on now saved time later.

They heaved their backpack onto their shoulders and snuck out of the building. Today was a big day, after all. The new mayor was going to announce her plans for the city's repairs and hopeful attempt at redemption (As if that was going to happen. It was Gotham, after all). But Blaze was curious as to what Ms. Reál had planned for the city as of now.

The walk to the city center got pretty boring pretty fast. Eventually Blaze pulled out their phone and earbuds, thankful for the days they'd decided to make YT playlists and downloaded all of their liked songs from Spotfy. A pair of old black earbuds that were slowly nearing death were placed in their ears as they turned on one of their favorite songs.

When they finally arrived, they climbed up a tree to get a good view point and stopped their music. An older gentlemen and a man dressed in black stopped underneath the tree a few moments later, but Blaze didn't pay them any mind for a bit.

"I must say, Master Bruce, I'm surprised you wanted to come out to this event. And that you didn't go up by all the other... well, all the other rich people," the older gentlemen said to the other. Glancing down, Blaze almost fell out of their tree upon realizing Bruce Wayne and his butler were standing underneath it.

"All those people are annoying. Besides, I'm less likely to be pestered out here. It's far enough away from anyone," Mr. Wayne muttered.

I feel a need to leave this conversation, even though I'm not in it... Blaze thought to themself, praying the pair standing and chatting didn't look up.

"Besides," Mr. Wayne started again, "if I'm back here and not up there, I can leave and change quickly. In case something happens."

Blaze subconsciously heard the two start talking about something else as they slid down the back of the tree. Confused and worried, they made their way to another tree and climbed that one before listening to Ms. Reál's plan for the city.

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Words: 1365

Author here! This was not the original plan for the intro to this story, but I like it quite a bit better. The song Blaze starts their playlist on is actually the same one linked up top, and is the same as the chapter title. Check it out, it's a good song! If you're wondering what Blaze looks like, I'm sure I'll describe them at some point.

Words after Author's note: 1443

(also sorry it re-uploaded I went back and edited some things. sorry!)