Gotham Rain: Chapter 4

     Harley slumped against the balcony of the penitentiary, all the fight having gone out of her. It had been so long since she'd been separated from Joker that she'd forgotten how to act on her own initiative. As she listened to the motor of the GCPD boat pulling away from the asylum docks, her head sank between her knees and she sobbed softly to herself. At that moment, nothing made sense. Nothing mattered to her. Her heart was gone, torn from her chest and strapped to a stretcher on its way to a maximum security hospital somewhere. Nothing mattered. Nothing at all, except... Harley opened her eyes and tilted her head slightly, catching a bit of green shifting. Ivy was stirring.

     Harley uncurled herself from the balcony wall and cradled Ivy for a moment, sensing something shift in her. All the chaos was falling away, and a moment of clarity struck her: she couldn't leave Ivy here alone. The Titan formula had poisoned her connection to the plant life, and Ivy would wither and grow weak, maybe even die... if she was even capable of dying. Harley wasn't sure anymore. Ivy hadn't exactly been classifiable as human for a while now.

     "C'mon, Pammy, up you go," Harley grunted as she threw Ivy's arm over her shoulder and lifted. "We're bustin outta here. Or what's left'a here, anyway. Mistah J didn't really leave much of it standing, did he? He was always thorough like that."

     The two stumbled down the stairs towards the water. All of the GCPD officers were off the pier, so it was a clear path from the penitentiary to the water's edge. The women stepped over the bodies of inmates and patients along the way, carefully picking their way through bits of building that had been blown clear from the structure. They stopped at the water's edge, Harley unsure of what to do and Ivy still groggy.

    "Nutso. No boats. No helicopters. Not even a moped with floaties superglued to it," Harley muttered.

     "Stand... back, Harley. Stand back," Ivy managed. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she summoned the last of her strength. Vines started creeping towards them from the water, off of the nearby fountain, from around the pillars holding up the docks. They began to interlace, carrying bits of branch and wood with them. A shape began to take form, a little pod of plant matter, with the harder materials fusing together and the softer vines near the back of it. "It won't be dry, but it will take our weight," Ivy said, her voice growing weak. As the pod took its final shape, she collapsed, Harley barely managing her catch her.

     "Alright, Pammy! Now that's what I call traveling in style!" Harley sounded almost happy for a moment, her sense of loss momentarily forgotten in her care for her friend. She hauled Ivy's unconscious form onto the pod as its petal-like structure closed over them. Then the vines at the end began to twitch, and the pod slowly moved away from the shore. The momentum of the waves pushed its along the shoreline North towards Miagami Island and Gotham City's southern coast.

Harley peered through a crack in the canopy, back at the Asylum, and sighed sadly. She looked at Ivy, barely breathing and completely motionless. She'd never seen Ivy so weak. Considering how far behind she'd left being human, she wasn't even sure what kind of condition Ivy was in.

     Now that they'd made it off the island, her mind started running at full speed. There were only so many maximum security hospitals, and they'd never take Joker to anything less. She'd hit a safe house, then she'd hit the hospital and get him back. They'd be safe, they'd be together, and he'd forgive her for letting him down.

Gotham Rain: Chapter 3

Interlude - 

The Titan formula is metabolizing in the Joker's bloodstream, and he's back down to his normal lithe figure. The medical teams called in by the GCPD have been stabilizing him, but haven't bothered to give him anything for the pain caused by the stress of his body gaining and losing significant mass in such a short period of time. Batman has left the island after picking up an emergency call about Two-Face robbing a bank, leaving Commissioner Gordon in charge of the clean-up. Joker is strapped to a stretcher, with a portable monitor reading his vitals. He's twitching every now and then and making strangled groaning sounds, and his eyes are darting about the place. 

- End Interlude

     Harley Quinn is stronger than she looks, and Poison Ivy is heavier than she looks. That being said, it's taken Harley almost an hour to haul Ivy out of Arkham's penitentiary building. Picking her way the rubble on her own would have been easy given her acrobatic skill, but with Ivy barely conscious at best it's slow going. Ivy has been unresponsive for the last 20 minutes, and Harley has struggled to climb over the wreckage with her in a fireman's carry.

     "Jeez, Pammy, you'd think someone that's half plant would be a little lighter. Lay off the tree trunk why don'tcha?" Harley muttered to herself as she cleared the last of the rubble and entered the main lobby. She poked her head around the corner, spotting two police officers near the exit. She gently set Ivy down against the wall and considered her options. Better play this one quiet, she thought, after all, it's not just my butt on the line here. 

     Harley spotted a chunk of plaster that had fallen from the wall, and scooped it up. She edged her way to the very corner of the hallway, eyeballing the cops. Winding up, she flung the plaster over their heads in an arc that landed it noisily in the opposite hallway. The two GCPD officers jumped and drew their weapons, nervously peering into the darkness of the hallway. One of them started to move towards it, and Harley slipped out of the shadows. She measured up the one still standing closest the exit before moving in and catching him in a sleeper hold with her hand over his mouth. "Shhhh," she whispered, lowering him to the ground as her sharp forearm cut off the blood to his brain. She couldn't help but emit a little giggle as he went slack in her arms.

     "You say something, Pete?" the other officer asked, afraid to take his eyes off the hallway, his imagination racing at what manner of lunatic might come barreling out of it at him. He never saw Harley taking the gun from the fallen officer. She crept up behind him and pistol whipped him hard, dropping him to his knees, before hitting him again and again. When he stopped moving, she took his gun as well, slipping them into the belt in the nurse's costume she'd appropriated for Joker. Leaving the officers, she returned to Ivy, who was just opening her eyes again.

     "Harley? Where are we?" Ivy rasped. Harley didn't answer, grabbing Ivy by the shoulders and slipping under one. They staggered through the lobby and out the front door of the penitentiary. The Arkham penitentiary is close to the docks, on the Southwest side of the island, where the docks are located. Harley took a hard right once through the main doors and headed for the stairs that led down to the docks when something caught her eye.

     She nearly dropped Ivy as she ran to the railings and clutched them desperately. "No... Mister J..." she whispered as she saw him strapped to the gurney and being loaded onto a GCPD boat. The last GCPD boat. Harley hadn't been there when Joker had pumped himself full of the mutated venom that Bane had used, so she didn't see the monstrous form that he'd faced Batman with and still lost. All she saw was a husk of the man that she loved, strapped down in restraints and being loaded onto a boat with medical personnel and equipment. "What'd Batsy do to you, puddin?" she whispered, as she sank down next to Ivy.

     Ivy turned her head with some effort and spoke lucidly for the first time since rescuing Harley. "Harley, we've got to go. This island isn't safe, and there's nothing here for us now," she said, looking at Harley intently.

     Harley answered back, "There's no boats. There's no... no point. They've got him."

Gotham Rain: Chapter 2

     Harley Quinn sits alone in a cell in the Extreme Incarceration wing of Arkham Asylum, sobbing quietly to herself, as she has for the past several hours.

Yep, that's me. You're probably wondering how I got here. Well, there's a good story behind it. I had the perfect plan: Draw the Bat into the nuttiest part of the nut hatch and wear him down with the adorably violent uncontrollable psychopaths before treating him to a nice dose of the electric floor. Quite rudely, he managed to make it through all the thugs I had with me without so much of a singe on his bat-patootie. Banged my head against a railing while he was at it, and tricked me into telling him where Mister J was, too. And... and, uh. Mister J... well, he wasn't too happy I let him down. I'm off the guest list. It's okay, though. I know he still cares. 

*record scratch* *freeze frame*

     There's a bruise on Harley's head and her wrist is strained from when Batman captured her and stuck her in the cell, but she's otherwise in one piece. With the Asylum under Joker's control, no one's been in Extreme Incarceration since the Bat left her in the cell. No one awake, at any point. She's pretty sure at least one of those guys that got stuck on the electric floor when she turned off the safeties is dead. She's not sure whether she's more upset that one of her mooks hasn't woken up or at how the Bat was so dismissive of her.

     Contrary to appearance, Harley is a very smart woman, smart enough to have earned a doctorate and an internship at Arkham Asylum. It's where she met him, where she found the new direction of her life, and what she thinks is true love. And it infuriates her to no end that even despite having met him then, lab coat and glasses and all, the Bat still underestimates her. Here, though, Harley sees no way out. Extreme Incarceration is where they put people they really don't want getting out.

     There have been noises since she was locked up. A few pretty significant explosions, and she's heard something rumbling in the walls. Something's going on outside, and she can only hope that means Joker's taken out the Bat. This is different, though; Harley's head perks up as she hears a door hiss open and a wet thump as something hits the floor. She presses her face to the bars of the cell and catches a glimpse of red and green near the doors.

    "Ivy? Ivy, is that you? Wow, babe, you don't look so good," Harley calls out, straining between the bars to get a better look.

     Ivy's voice is weak, raspy, the sound you make when you rub two dry pieces of wood together when she responds, "Quinn. Hold still. We have to get out of here. Batman's taken down the Joker and the police are swarming the island." She strains visibly, making it to her knees. She grasps one of the bars of the cell, and vines protrude from her arm, wrapping around the gap where the bars meet. Tiny strands of plant material force their way into the gap, and the bars slowly open, the hydraulics whining against the strain. Harley slips through the tiny gap Ivy created, and Ivy collapses in exhaustion.

Returning the favour

     "Pammy, baby, what'd he do to you? That awful Bat. He banged me up pretty bad, too," Harley says, as she catches Ivy before she hits the floor. She slips under one of Ivy's arms and lifts her, and the two begin to stagger towards the exit.

     "Not... not Batman. Joker... Joker pumped me full of that Titan trash. I don't feel so good, Harl..." Ivy manages before passing out. Harley clutches the vines on her arms and lifts her over her shoulder, feeling a swell of conflict passing through her. Mister J wouldn't hurt Ivy, she thinks to herself. Ivy's been one of the only people that's been nice to her, nicer even than... her mind won't let her finish that thought. He wouldn't hurt Ivy, and he only hurt me because I let him down. I didn't finish off the Bat, so I had it coming.

     She'll make it right, though. She has to. She'll make it right and he'll take her back and everything will be fine. She's just gotta get out of the Asylum first and back to the City.

     Then back to Mister J, so I can make this right. 

Gotham Rain: Chapter 1

[I haven't written fiction in a while, so I'm giving it a shot. On an unrelated note, I really hate to ask, but as I've recently been laid off, if you're feeling generous, I have a paypal at reverendsalem@gmail.com]

The following occurs between the events of Arkham Asylum and Arkham City.

     It's been raining for 3 days now. Not a pause and no end in sight. Here, in this sprawling concrete rainforest that is Gotham City, very few plants grow. My babies take refuge here, in one of Miagani Island's abandoned botanical gardens, at the southernmost coast of the city. The people, and their polluting vehicles, are fewer, and no one notices the patch of beautiful green high atop this vacant building. Since the Asylum incident, I've kept to myself, tending my babies and spreading my roots again through the city. The Bat and I leave each other alone. I imagine he's busy, he and his kind, scouring the streets for any of the degenerate maniacs that fled the island during the riots.

     She's been sitting on the balcony now for a whole day. She hasn't eaten. Hasn't spoken. I can hear her crying occasionally as I stroke the petals of my Alchymist rose, its peach blossoms growing strong and healthy. She's sitting out there in the rain because she thinks it's hiding the tears. She and I share something. Our skin is no longer the color it once was when we were human. When I was enlightened, I became a shade of green, but when he did what he did to her, her skin turned as pale as an orchid. But I can tell, when the nourishing water hits her face, what's her and what she's caked on as ornamental. The black streaks from her eyes trailing down her Hyacinth cheeks awaken in me something... human.

    Since my growth, I've felt less and less what these 'people' feel. Plants are much simpler, much less complex. I can feel their pain when they are cut down. I can feel their warmth when the sun hits them. But I can't feel hatred or jealousy or love or compassion like a person would anymore. But Harley, for some reason, brings that back to me. I've always felt some sort of kinship with her, and I'm not entirely sure why. That lack of certainty pricks at me like a thorn. The simplicity of a slowly growing plant is much easier to understand, and I hate that I feel this way. I wish I could leave her to her own devices, but I just can't.

    In the wake of the Asylum incident there was sheer chaos. While the GCPD was trying to clean up the mess that the clown left behind, I shook off the influence of the Titan formula and staggered through the rubble of Arkham Asylum's botanical gardens. The things he made me do were abhorrent. I create life and yet he made me destroy. I found Harley locked in a cell and summoned what was left of my strength to grow vines between the cracks of the cell's door until it burst from its hinges. Harley helped me to the shore, and again I summoned enough within myself to grow us a pod that would safely carry us North across the harbor to the shorelines of Miagani Island. Too weak to walk, let alone summon anything that would carry us to a safe haven, Harley stole a car and raided one of her stashes, abandoning the garish nurse outfit she'd worn to please him, while I cocooned myself and regained strength. I soaked in the brackish water that leaked into the basement of Harley's storeroom, and while she thought I was asleep, she ranted in anger about how he abandoned her.

     As soon as I was able, we left for the arboretum. Harley disappeared for a couple of days, intent on finding the Joker, but when she returned, she was different. She tried to play it off, but something had happened between them. I returned to tending my plants, bringing the abandoned arboretum back to life, but she sat on the balcony outside the glass walls of the greenhouse motionless.

     I can't stand to see her like this. I don't understand fully why. Why do I have this connection, this human connection with her? And what is this feeling I have, this feeling that, if I were still human, I would consider rage? Am I feeling this on her behalf, or do I selfishly want to make it go away just so that I can stop feeling it?

     I don't know. All I know is that I can't see her like this anymore. Every time he hurts her, she goes back. Every time he's almost captured, she takes the fall for it because he abandons her to the police or the Bat or one of his kind. I can't see it happen anymore. I won't see it happen anymore. And there's only one way that can be.

    The clown has to die.

Batman Punches Superman: Dawn of Injustice

I've now seen Deadpool three times in the theatre: Once at the normal cinema I go to, once in IMAX (my first IMAX movie!) and once with a friend that came to visit. I'm also looking forward to Captain America: Civil War. I bring these up because I do not have the mixed feelings for the vast majority of Marvel films that I do for Batman vs. Superman. And it can't be just that I'm a Marvel fanboy -- I love Batman and the Bat-family more than I do any one particular Marvel hero, even RDJ's Tony Stark.

(Erin says: It's true. He practically has a fetish for Batgirl.)

But if I'm honest, I've never been a Superman fan to begin with. The Reeves films were variable in quality, with the first one being the only truly good one (minus the time travel sequence), and Superman Returns actually put me to sleep despite the absolute perfection of casting Kevin Spacey as Lex Luthor. I honestly didn't think Man of Steel was that bad, but then... I'm not a fan of Superman, so that's probably why. So continuing the Man of Steel thread into BvS was really my only interest as far as Superman is concerned, and BvS was definitely a Man of Steel sequel... for all that's worth. No, the reason I forked out the cash for two IMAX tickets (You're welcome, Jacob) was Batfleck.

I have spoken previously on the subject of Batfleck, and I stand by my previous words. Ben Affleck as Batman was inspired. There has not been a Batman on film yet that had the physicality, the stature, and the cold rage that drives a Batman that Ben Affleck brought to the role. No one yet has looked the part so much and made me believe the role so much. I'm ready to say that Batfleck currently has my Number 2 slot, behind the Arkham/Animated Batman of Kevin Conroy. Any part of this film that has either Batman or Alfred in it could easily be cut out and still be good watch on its own.

Gal Gadot's Wonder Woman is pretty great, too (when she's there). This is the first time I've seen a live-action Wonder Woman I enjoyed, and she had far too little screen time.

This is what we've been missing from cinematic Batman.

The rest of the cast does not fare as well:

• Henry Cavill looks the part still, but falls utterly flat. He's basically got two emotions: Mope and Rage. As I've mentioned, I'm not even a Superman fan, but even I know that Superman operates on a much broader range than that, and with an air of underlying optimism at all times. 
• Jesse Eisenberg is hopelessly mis-cast as Luthor, even taking into account he's not technically Lex but rather his son Alexander. Eisenberg would have been much better served being cast in the inevitable Batfleck movie as The Riddler, as his performance is much closer in line to Arkham's deranged, SAW-esque version of Riddler than any previous Luthor. 
• Amy Adams is basically forgettable as Lois Lane, and Laurence Fishburne's Perry White has somehow turned into a caricature of himself.

The story and pacing of the movie is all over the place, and has the feel of two movies that were forced into one due to budgetary constraints. There's a difference between “X happens, which leads to Y, which leads to Z” and “X happens, then Y happens, then Z happens” and this movie is definitely the latter.

I hate to lay the blame at the feet of any one person in particular, yet I can't help but question Zach Snyder on this. He says he understands and loves the characters, but it genuinely feels like he read only two stories -- Injustice: Gods Among Us and The Dark Knight Returns -- and ran with those. Not only are these stories out of comic-book continuity, the are also set in worlds in which things have gone horribly wrong and the characters are forced to take actions they would not normally otherwise take.

In Injustice, the Joker murders Lois Lane and Superman completely loses it, gravely injuring Batman who tries to stop him and seizing world power with a coalition of super-powered heroes. In Dark Knight, government overreach leads to a near-totalitarian state with Superman a government puppet, prompting Batman to finally take him down. While gripping stories, neither of these are accurate portrayals of Batman and Superman. 

In short, BvS isn't as bad as Rotten Tomatoes and the drama-addicted movie critics would have you believe, and it has some quite excellent scenes, but the movie has some real problems. I'd genuinely recommend watching it at some point, but rent it rather than paying to see it in theatres. As of this writing, a Batman film starring and directed by Affleck has been confirmed, and Suicide Squad is still coming fairly soon, so I can only hope that Dawn of Justice serves its primary purpose of serving as a springboard for a larger DC universe, and that it will bring us films of tMCU or Nolanverse quality instead of more bombs like Green Lantern or Man of Steel.

Prior to this, I had some level of faith in Zach Snyder. I didn't hate Sucker Punch (unlike most everyone else), and Watchmen and 300 were good movies. But this isn't a promising start to DC's cinematic universe.

Salem Watches A Porn

Hey wait that title could be taken out of context.. 

While you may see me, from time to time, gush over the Marvel Cinematic Universe (deservedly so in my eyes, given the love and respect the source material is treated with), it is undeniable that I love Batman as much as I love any modern representation of Iron Man or Thor; probably moreso, given my disinterest in much of the rest of the DC Universe.

My first memories of Batman represented in visual media would probably be seeing glimpses of him and Robin on Scooby-Doo reruns. I'd cringingly watch a few minutes, then lose interest, as I hated Scooby-Doo. I remember later on seeing reruns of the 1966 Batman television series. I'd watch this not because it was entertaining, but as sort of an oddity. I wasn't alive in the 60s, so I can't attest to the veracity of the Swinging Sixties nostalgia, but if this show was representative of it, I see where that reputation comes from.

Fortunately, the 1990 Keaton/Burton film came along, shortly followed by its sequel and the near-flawless Batman: The Animated Series, spinning off into The New Adventures of Batman & Robin, Justice League, Batman Beyond, and a number of other similarly excellent shows and films, which still appeal to me years later, despite my general disinterest in most animated features.

Our lovely editor Erin pointed me towards an... edited version of Batman XXX: A Porn Parody (which I've helpfully linked below – all the naughty bits have been edited out, reducing it to just shy of a mere 25 minutes, the length of an average episode). I've never actually sat down and watched one of these porn parodies, but I've paid attention to the news on them. Because of the fantastic costuming efforts. Really. No, guys, stop giggling I promise that's why. These porn parodies have more faithful translations of their costumes than the actual, official movies. Check out their Harley Quinn and Wonder Woman!

Great cosplay, but unofficial! 

So, how does it measure up?
Eerily well, actually. Everyone from Batman and Robin to the extras in group scenes (not that kind of group scene!) are wearing period-appropriate outfits. Lines are delivered in the same manner as low-budget 60s Hollywood. The actors filling in for Adam West and Burt Ward in particular absolutely nail (stop it!) the mannerisms brought to the orginal roles. Ceasar Romero's Joker is re-created right down to the grease-paint covered mustache, and Frank Gorshin's manic Riddler even has that uncomfortable bulge in his tights (which makes a lot more sense in the context of a porn). Tori Black as Catwoman is similarly fantastic, as she captures the sultry air that Julie Newmar brought to the role, perhaps even improving on it a little. Even the Batusi and the 'climbing' sideways across the set of a building lying on its side are there. BIFF and POW make appearances in the final battle sequence, and Batman even corrects Robin's grammar while tied up.

Seriously! This is a porn parody!

It's not without flaws, though. As anyone knows, my waifu Batgirl makes an appearance, but she's being played by Lexi Belle, as a blonde. Even though Yvonne Craig's Batgirl is probably dead last on my list of Batgirls (yes, I have a list), she (like Lexi) starts out with a brunette beehive, but instead of putting on a red wig for the costume, she's using Lexi's natural blonde locks. And as everyone knows, Barbara Gordon is not a blonde (looking at you, Alicia Silverstone... hang on, she's dead last on my list).

Can I make it any clearer? 

But probably the most frustrating thing is that Lexi is possibly the person most qualified to play Harley Quinn in the entire world. She's cute, perky, and screams mentally unbalanced. It's a real shame, as Axel Braun Productions made a Batman vs Supermanparody that features Harley, but didn't use her.

There's also a missed opportunity here, as there's a character I clearly don't remember from the original series: Bruce Wayne's fiance Lisa, who seems to exist merely to fill a hole (come on now, quit giggling) in the script. I would have loved to see them innovate a little, bringing in a ginger actress to play Batgirl and having Lexi play a Batman 66-inspired Harley Quinn.

All in all, it's a faithful and surprisingly respectful translation of the 1966 Batman series with a metric buttload (okay, I'll own that one) of sex scenes worked into it. I can't attest to the actual sex scenes (I haven't seen them yet. I haven't. Really, I haven't. Stop looking at me like that!), but I'd recommend watching the edited version at least for a laugh.

Regressive Progressivism: Arkham Knight

I am vengeance. I am The Night. I am Spoilers.

I love the Batman: Arkham series. I have since I first played Arkham Asylum, the beginning of the series. I was wary of them at first, as licensed games have a long and storied history of being completely shit. Super-hero based titles in particular. One of my favourite super-hero films is Iron Man, and I was psyched when I found a clearance copy of Iron Man: The Game. Sadly, it was one of the worst games I've ever played.

Seriously how do you mess this up?

Not since Goldeneye 007 on the N64 had there been a good licensed game, and Asylum sparked the return of good licensed games, followed up with High Moon's Transformers: Cybertron titles and Deadpool. Even now, the genre hasn't recovered from the damage done, but at least there are good licensed games out there, and we owe it mainly to Arkham Asylum.

Arkham City, the sequel, may have been lacking the tightly focused narrative of the original, but it made up for it in scale of playable area and the mountains of sidequests, expanded roster of villains, and innovations in gameplay. The prequel game Arkham Origins (while not made by Rocksteady) is easily the worst of the series, but still an outstanding game. It innovated very little (expanding mainly on the Detective Mode in such a way that Rocksteady recognized and used in Arkham Knight), but it told a great story with mainly b-team villains. A mobile game, Arkham Origins: Blackgate wasn't necessarily a great game, but it wasn't terrible either, and was ported to PC and consoles later. 

It's previously been fashionable to bash the Arkham games for their treatment of women, primarily Catwoman. Despite being a playable character (both free-roam and story) and given her own motivations, agency, and the chance to rescue Batman, the game was still branded sexist because common street thugs called her 'bitch.' I'm honestly not sure how people who are locked up in a city-sized prison can be expected to treat one of the two women publicly making their residence known in said city-prison respectfully, but apparently the words of minor villains are the lesson the developers wanted us to take away from the game. Not that Catwoman is a badass capable going toe-to-toe with dozens of hardened criminals and Two-Face himself, but that she's a bitch. You've got me there.

For the most recent outrage, Arkham Knight is coming under fire for its treatment of Poison Ivy, mainly that she's a scantily clad damsel in distress. I'll grant you exactly one thing, she is scantily clad. But Ivy's so far mutated from baseline-human that her brain doesn't process human modesty the way the rest of us do. Is that an excuse? Maybe, but it's one that works in the context of the story. But that's as much leeway as I'll give those claims. 

My only assumption can be that the people writing these articles haven't played the game, but only seen a few short, selected clips. The claim is that she's kidnapped with a gun held to her head by a goon that she should be able to take out herself, Batman rescues her only to take her again and throw her in a cell, and use her when she's useful again, as a 'power-up.'

Let me tell you what really happens: Ivy is involved, as a party with agency, in a meeting of villains called to pool their resources to take out the Bat. Exercising that agency, she refuses, and is somehow rendered unconscious. It's not explained how, but she wakes up in a chamber with a gun to her head, at which point Batman enters the picture, beats up a dozen guys outside of said cell. Scarecrow gasses her and goon, but it only affects goon due to her natural immunity to toxins. She proceeds to smash his head into the glass of the chamber, and then walk out under her own power. She explains the situation to Batman before casually tossing him off of a building with her vines. Naturally, being Batman, he's waiting for her when she exits the elevator. Deciding the fight isn't worth the trouble, she allows herself to be arrested and taken to the GCPD. Batman later realizes he needs a way to purge Scarecrow's toxin and releases her from custody. She then takes control of a giant root system underneath Gotham and wreaks havoc on the Arkham Knight's tank division while Batman provides a modicum of covering fire. The game's mission objectives even reflect this by instructing you to "work with" Ivy, not "protect" Ivy. Finally, she sacrifices herself to purge Scarecrow's toxin from Gotham in a heroic redemption.

Reducing Ivy's role in the story of Arkham Knight to 'damsel in distress' is downright insulting. Insulting to the character, to her creators, the developers of the game, and her fans. She plays a major part, and Gotham would have been lost halfway through the game if it weren't for her.

Catwoman's part is being criticized as well, but that one's only partially valid. It's true, Riddler has her. She's got a bomb collar on, and Batman must complete challenges for keys to the bomb collar.. only some of those challenges involve taking direct control of Catwoman. And she's in this situation in the first place because of a character trait that's been present in Catwoman from day one: She's greedy. Riddler paid her to do a job, and double-crossed her by fitting the collar on her in the process. She even straight-up tells Batman that she doesn't want her situation to act as a motivation for him.

I'm only going to say this about Harley Quinn: She's wearing more clothes in every game and still you consider her sexualized.

Don't you go there, Kotaku.. don't you... you went there.

As for my favourite character in all of Batdom, Barbara Gordon... Kotaku, you go back and finish the goddamned game. And when you get to the part where Barbara Gordon looks Scarecrow in the eye and says “You don't scare me”, you come back and you apologize. And you replay those parts where you track her movement, where you hear about the soldiers that were taken out by a 'cripple in a wheelchair with ninja sticks.' Where you find the scene of the humvee she managed to crash by macing the driver, and how she crawled away until someone put a warning shot in the pavement a foot from her head, only to leave Batman a way of tracking her location without a trained and highly skilled villain noticing. And don't you ever call Barbara Gordon a 'professional victim' again. A professional victim is someone that milks a tragedy (real or imagined) for sympathy. Barbara Gordon took that tragedy and turned it into a legacy, becoming one of the most important characters not only in the Bat-titles, but in all of DC. 

The Ivy criticism made me sigh. The insult to Barbara Gordon made me genuinely angry. 

Something Something Needs, Not Something Something Deserves

     So I occasionally write about video games, if you haven't noticed. Because of this, I try to maintain an objective viewpoint when going into a game. It isn't always possible. If I pick up a new Call of Duty game, I'm going to be expecting about 4-5 hours of shallow corridor shooting. If I play one of those Bethesda RPGs, I'm expecting a ridiculously huge world with an obscene level of detail and tons of tiny in-jokes. If I'm approaching the third game in a highly successful and critically acclaimed series, my expectations are going to be high.

     Unless, of course, the game is made by a different developer, using the same characters but with different voice actors, and has garnered generally mixed to negative impressions from respected sources. This is not one of those times I went in with an objective viewpoint. Which makes what happens all the more frustrating and confusing.

     Batman: Arkham Origins has several strikes against it from the outset. The first two games, Arkham Asylum and Arkham City, were developed by Rocksteady, an English development team who stunned the gaming world by releasing a game based on a licensed property that was not only good, but outstanding. Not just outstanding, but nearly flawless. It was written by Paul Dini, who was responsible for the best of the landmark Batman: The Animated Series with voices provided by Kevin Conroy, Mark Hamill, and Arleen Sorkin, among others from the same show. It treated the subject matter with a level of respect and love that had not been since in a licensed property since Goldeneye 007, and rarely since.

     Arkham Origins rubbed me the wrong way first with the title. Origins is one of those words (like Revelation) that is just lazy and over-used in gaming titles. Dragon Age, Rayman, FEAR 2, and probably a dozen others got there first. Gone is Rocksteady, replaced by an in-house studio for Warner Brothers. Most damning of all (in my eyes) is the replacement of Conroy and Hamill. Troy Baker is a talented voice actor, but it just sounds like he's doing a Mark Hamill imitation (albeit a good Hamill imitation) that just makes me miss Hamill even more. If you're going to be Joker, be your own Joker. Nobody wants to see you imitate someone else's Joker. Conroy is replaced with Roger Craig Smith, who has the dubious honor of voicing one of my favorite (Ezio Auditore) and least favorite (Chris Redfield) characters. His Batman lacks all of the dark humor and intimidation of Conroy's, and his performance is possibly the weakest.Batman has been redesigned so that he looks approximately halfway between his appearance in the first two games and his appearance in the Nolan films, which while good for what they were, I've had about enough of. And finally, that Freeflow combat system has been... tweaked? Changed? Something's off about the timing which has fouled up my ability to take out a room of thugs without a scratch, and I often find Batman punching thin air, or not doing a take-down move when he's supposed to, or even just some random street tough capable of throwing a punch faster and harder than Batman.
 

     With all of that said, though, I come to the most frustrating and confusing part of it all. I really went into this prepared to hate it. I went in fully expecting to be completely let down, but I wasn't. There's just enough familiarity there to make me feel comfortable, with enough new things to keep it feeling fresh three games into the series, where even Arkham City started to feel old at times. The dialogue really shines, with some really great lines given to Joker, Alfred, and Commissioner Gordon. Despite using the tired subtitle of Origins, it really does go to great lengths in the story, through both obvious events and background storytelling, to show us how things got from here through Arkham Asylum all the way to Arkham City. The story itself feels smaller, tighter, and more focused than the previous games, with characters from later games introduced and treated with great respect and a few really clenching moments. At one point, a character essentially vital to the lore was placed in great danger (see how I'm tap-dancing around spoilers here?) and I very nearly put my controller down, uninstalled, and walked away before the story resolved the situation quite adeptly.

     So, WB Montreal, I have to say. I stand impressed. I went in with the lowest expectations, and I was was proven wrong. It's not perfect by any means, and there are some glaringly terrible things, but I really like this game. Even the multiplayer is kinda fun, and if *I'M* saying that, it really means something.

WNW: How "The Dark Knight Rises" Should Have Ended

We're past the point of spoilers for this, right? Everyone who was going to see this movie has surely seen it by now.

And if not, just don't watch this video.

WNW: Derpy Quinn

For all your Batman/My Little Pony crossover needs.

WNW: Batman Coast to Coast

This is making the rounds lately, and I completely forgot about Wednesday Night Wackiness, so here, enjoy.

WNW: The Nine Alignments of Batman

I'd credit this, but I have no idea who made it. It might have spontaneously formed from the randomness of the internet in a digital abiogenesis.

Batman, as written by Chuck Palahniuk

It's raining buckets in Gotham, like God left the water running in the cold bath where he slit his wrists, and his death throes are making the rain come down in blue-black sheets, drenching the buildings that are his tub's marble-clawed feet.

Stabbing into the sky like a mile-long phosphorescent penis is the Bat-Signal, my emblem embossed across the clouds like a serial killer's trophy mark. "Fetishistic" isn't the right word, but it's the closest that comes to mind.

I am Bruce's rampaging ego.

The Batmobile rips through Gotham's steel canyons, belching smoke as thick as my rage and and black as my mood, my foot permanently against the firewall. More speed, more power, more penetration of the murky streets. I have an erection as hard as iron and I can't satisfy it, so my Batmobile becomes my penis, plowing through moist and cloying alleys like a turbine-powered dildo.

It's always "a" dildo, though. Never "my" dildo. Have to watch how I think, or that mind-reading freak J'onn will narc me out to Clark, and then he'll have to spend several hours talking about "feelings" and "rage" and "psycho-sexual impulses" while I fantasize about bending Diana over that giant penny in the Batcave and taking her roughly from behind.

See also: Amazonian Bondage Fetish.

See also: Diana's recurring rape fantasy.

To get semen stains out, I have to soak my cape in cold salt water, then wash as usual. Same with blood. Anything organic, really.

I arrive at Police Headquarters, propelled to the roof by rage and a Batline. I expect to see Commissioner Gordon there, in a rumpled overcoat, but instead it's Renee Montoya. I appear behind her, my breath on the back of her neck her only clue to my arrival. She whips around, latino eyes blazing a mixture of fear and lust.

I am Bruce's psychological warfare.

She gives me some story about some scum somewhere that need cleaning in a non-police sanctioned way. But I'm not listening. I know where all the scum in this town live. I have a model of Gotham in the Batcave. Some days, when it all gets too much, I take off my shoes and stomp on Crime Alley.

I stomp and I stomp and I stomp until the headless miniature of Joe Chill is firmly embedded in the flesh of my heel.

To get bloodstains out of a fur coat, use cornmeal and brush the coat the wrong way.

To get crime out of Gotham, use Batman.

She tries to show me a file. I don't need it, I say.

How will you know who to bring in, she says.

I'll know them by my hate, I say.

You have to know who you hate, she says.

I know who I hate, and it's myself. But I love my hate, and I love to spread it. I spread it all over the faces of criminals.

"Bukkake" isn't the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind.

I am Bruce's Bukkake of Justice.