L e g e n d s of the D a r k K n i g h t - what a beautiful morning-for terror that is {open}

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Nov 26, 2009, 7:31am

The Plot

It has been five years since the 'death' of Harvey Dent. Gotham has only become worse in it's state of coruption, and the people living there have seen this happen right before their eyes. Bruce Wayne has put all of his efforts into helping Gotham get back on it's feet, but he hasn't had much help. In the last few months, he has taken custody of a teenaged boy, Dick Grayson, who was orphaned when his parents were killed in a Circus murdering.
Meanwhile, in the darkness of the world, the clown of Gotham has been locked up in Gotham, with numerous escapes and run-ins with Batman, he always ends up back in Gotham. This Thanksgiving, however, he plans to make an escape. An escape out into the world of Gotham, and not only is he breaking out, but numerous of Batman's other villains are breaking out with him. How? Doctor Harleen Quinzel.
Commissioner Gordon's daughter, Barbara has just turned thirteen recently, and without her Uncle's knowledge has been escaping into the night, becoming known in the streets. She has befriended the thugs, and thieves of the city, though not as her normal identity but someone else. Someone different.
Also, Selina Kyle has moved into Gotham, and who knows who she'll meet and start trouble with.

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It is currently the month of November, 2012, Thanksgiving is getting closer and closer and it's getting colder and colder. Snow has even fallen a bit, not much but an inch or so.

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L e g e n d s of the D a r k K n i g h t :: Gotham City :: Robinson Park :: Hedge Maze :: what a beautiful morning-for terror that is {open}

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Topic: what a beautiful morning-for terror that is {open} (Read 22 times)

Pamela Isley
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what a beautiful morning-for terror that is {open}
« Thread Started on Aug 19, 2008, 7:57pm »

Pale hands ran though the tangled leaves of the hedge maze a smile upon her soft lips. The hedges were eager to speak to her, recount the tales of the missing children, and the man who had murdered them slowly. They spoke of soft spoken couples walking about in a dazed stupor through the wandering passageways, of secret passions: they really did have so much to tell. It was like walking through the halls of a living history museum. Slender fingers traced the patterns on a few of the leaves. She could tell they were trying to warn her of the dark shadow that came by every so often, but they lacked the words to explain just what was so worth warning her about.

Despite the fact that she could commutate with plants and at least she knew that something was bothering she couldn’t tell what. A hand brushed her hair frustratedly as she continued to wander around the maze. She had no fear of getting lost; a single word and the hedges would move out of her way and show her right to the exit. These weren’t wild plants either; they had a docile manner of speaking, slow and soft like an old friend you hadn’t seen in years. A chuckled that echoed in the morning dawn shadows broke the silence.

She had nothing to fear, not here surrounded in her element. Attacking her here would have been not just stupid but passing on to insane and worthy of being Arkam committed. A sound came from the start of the maze, and Ivy turned towards it. Who would be out walking this early in a ‘haunted’ maze. Whispers of the ‘shadow man’ passed through the hedges like wildfire—the force of thousands of voices panicking caused her to cry out and crumple to the ground.

Even it seemed the plants had fears, and months of have been tested upon had only warped them into being afraid of the fear monger himself. The force of so much terror was like having run into a brick wall in a racecar—and even knowing that if it was Crane he couldn’t effect her, she felt that gnawing terror of the unknown creeping over her. Chills crept up her spine despite the pleasant temperature and she could feel the huddle of plants hiding in the corner of her mind begging her to protect them. In all her years, she’d never seen plants behave so much like pack animals.

Had she not been fighting off the irrational terror that was threatening to drown her she might have found that to be interesting. “Who—Who’s there! Show yourself!” She had no idea who it might possibly be heading her way (though she suspected it was Scarecrow, funny she’d never pegged him to the type to be a morning riser) and that fact alone added to her growing list of fears. She grasped mentally for an old oak or something solid to hang onto but found only the echoes of the terrified plants.

A nervous laugh passed her lips as she fought back the urge to scream—she felt like she was drowning in a sea of fear: she hadn’t even known plants were capable of fear, much less enough to have afflicted her this much. Another sound of movement, and this time she really did scream as a shadow rounded the corner. (It was a person not a shadow, because he was coming from the east and the sun was just casting shadows.) She scrambled back, only to find herself pinned against a hedge and still unable to see what was coming.

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