This DCverse is Maddening

"W-woah!" A gangly looking teen eyed him from across the table," W-what happened to y-you?! Did you g-get into a fight or something?"

"...Or something.." Albert sighed as shifted carefully in place, trying his best not to accidentally rub against any of the rather sore patches of skin. No matter how 'gently' a bean bag was thrown, the repeated failure to dodge would eventually leave it's mark. At least she had to decency to not aim at his face, but sadly that only meant everywhere else was free game.

But it wasn't all bad news and despite pulling it up many times that day, he still couldn't but look in awe at the progress.

'Status.'

[Albert Nelson

HP: 20/20

MP: 9/9

SAN: 40/47

LCK: 45/45

IP: 5

Skills:

- Appraise: 25%

- Art/Craft (Photography): 55%

- Disguise: 26%

- Dodge: 22%

- Fire Arms (Handgun): 62%

- Library Use: 60%

- Listen: 32%

- Navigate: 22%

- Occult: 35%

- Psychology: 53%

- Spot Hidden: 60%

- Stealth: 43%

-Psychometry: 3%

Talents:

- Resourceful

- Lucky

-Psychic Power

Cthulhu Mythos: 0%]

Not a lot had changed, as usual his path would not be a sprint, a jog or even a fast walk. With the way things were going, it was more akin to a labored walk. Every step fraught with the chance to just tip right over and never get back up again. He hadn't been surprised at Navigate growing another percentage, especially not after how he's been traveling along the back streets of Gotham.

But what really caught the eye the source of that accomplished feeling was the brand new skill that just slid right into place. As though it always belonged there to begin with. Dodge had always been a very peculiar skill, especially since it would never stay static in it's value due to it's close ties to the DEX stat that remained obscured from him. In both the base game and Pulp Cthulhu, the skill would always be half of a characters DEX score before any modifications that Occupational, Archetypal or Personal points provided.

But that also meant that trying to use the skill to keep an eye on his DEX for any improvement was a futile effort, especially if he was being trained by someone like Harley. Concerning that, he had a bit of a hypothesis pertaining as to why he even unlocked the skill so quickly to begin with.

'Could skill growth be improved by having an adequately advanced instructor? Navigate took me a couple days to learn through reading some books, would I have gotten the skill faster if I had stumbled across some expert in the skill?'

It was possible but not something that could be easily tested, there were times like these he just wanted to peek behind the screen and truly look at whatever logic the system ran off of. For now, he would allow the skill to grow naturally and see what happens. Maybe once it broke through the thirty to forty mark, things would change.

Even in this form of Dodge, it was still a rather strange skill. Albert didn't know if all combat skills would be like this, but it had shown itself to be...very invasive. Like how Fire Arms (Handguns) felt like some overly affectionate instructor was pressed right up against his back, this skill felt like there were hands all over his body pushing and pulling every which way at any oncoming danger he could actually perceive. When it had first successfully worked, it was like these 'hands' violently pushed his head to the side just as a beanbag whistled past.

Then and only then, after the shock wore off did the real training begin. Thus the reason why his body felt it had become one giant bruise.

At his words, Steve look of concern only further deepen. Their relationship was a bit strange, in all honesty his friend group kinda tricked Albert in the beginning. They knew that the school was haunted and only really used his presence to attract Marian Gran enough to actually talk to Marceline. But still despite that, he had somewhat become like a tertiary member of their friend group.

Whether through some form of guilt or compatibility, it didn't really matter.

"I'm fine really." The investigator shrugged his shoulders, holding back the wince that tried it's best to slip out of that iron clad grip. "I've been training and it's physical in nature, so of course I'm going to get bruised up. Rather be sore here than bleeding out somewhere."

"T-that's true.." Steve nodded, shaggy hair moved along the motion. It did look a bit longer after their last meeting, the locks taking up more of his face than those large plastic glasses of his. "This is G-gotham after all. But j-just know you can s-stop at any point."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." The amount of people that genuinely cared for his safety could be counted on a single hand, so having someone tell him that was a bit heartwarming. "But enough of that mushy stuff, what have you been up to?"

"I've b-been doing good," The lanky teen grinned crookedly. "Just been w-working off Angeline's loan, her dad's been r-running us ragged. But i-it's not that bad, really. He a-always takes us out to eat a-afterwards. And I t-think we're almost done with their yard, j-just need to paint the fence." And it showed. The youth's previously pale skin now had a healthy tanned hue to it that ended abruptly at his sleeve, a rather stark contrast in fact. Now he didn't look jacked or anything, just a bit more toned here and there.

"But w-what about you?" Steve asked, waving towards the rather despair inducing empty room. Albert knew he should get around to livening it all up, but things kept cropping up that made it less of an urgent need. "I h-heard from Marcy about y-your business being up and r-running. How is t-that going?"

"Well…" He trialed off as the little bits of information he could gleam from those textbook came to mind. "I've had a single client since starting up but I expect that might change here real soon. You know how we first met?"

"The r-request board."

"Yeah, I plan on going back there but also leave a sign there. Maybe some of those requests will get funneled my way?"

"I d-don't think you can do t-that."

"Why not?"

"D-don't take my word for it," He shrugged helplessly. "But I've seen p-plenty of advertisements get taken down w-whenever they pop up. I-I don't know if it's cuz the owner or p-pedestrians but it doesn't m-matter. Most of t-them don't last long before they get ripped off."

"Oh." That was rather disappointing but it kinda made sense in a way. Advertisements in his old world had wriggled it's way into every facet of daily life, to the point where not even offline games were safe. And it seems even here, people were getting fed up with them constantly. "Then I guess I'll have to advertise in a different way...how does the people Gotham feel about fliers being placed on their cars?"

"I t-think they'll shoot f-first and ask questions later." Now the teen even sounded a bit apologetic, a distinct difference from the blonde that would've relished poking holes in Albert's plan. Steve was just that kinda guy. "Think a-about it, it's t-truly not a day in Gotham if t-there hasn't been atleast one car j-jacking or break in…. And I-I think even if you try e-explaining, they won't listen."

"Gotham sucks." With all these barriers to entry, how the hell was a young entrepreneur like him proceed? The city itself was hostile to the most common ploys back in his old world, conditioned over the years to be suspicious and all gung-ho with violence must've been a nightmare for local businesses starting out. No wonder Rueben had been as nasty acting as he had.

"Yeah." The lank teen nodded with a grin, shaggy brown hair bouncing away as he did. "T-that's how e-everyone thinks. It's probably why o-our schools are so hostile to all those M-Metropolis kids, l-lucky bastards."

What else would you call a city being watched over by a physical god?

"B-but," Steve shook off his rather morose feelings like a cloak. A genuine smile splitting his lips as he continued. "I d-didn't come to here to c-complain about Metropolis, a-after all we have our own g-guardian here too. And in my o-opinion, Batmans a lot cooler t-than Superman."

There was no way Albert was going to touch that particular statement with a ten foot pole. If people were literally willing to come to blows over which superhero was better in his old world, he could only imagine how bloody things were to get in this one over such a simple comparison. So instead of inserting his one bit of chaos, the teen only grinned stiffly. Honestly, he didn't care either way. As a kid, he had been obsessed with Superman but slowly transitioned over to Batman during his angsty teenage years before ultimately evening out to an uncaring lump. As by that point, Injustice had already come and gone, forever tarnishing the pristine picture of the Man of Steel.

'I just hope I'm not in that verse…'

"T-this is for you." Steve reached down in his bag and pulled out a brown paper wrapped object looking to be around one-by-two feet, before carefully handing it over. As though to answer the visibly confused look that stretched across the young PI's face, he further emphasized," It's a p-painting. I-I know I said I w-would make a design for your b-business cards but I don't k-know what you would want. So instead, I-I just made this and y-you can decided which p-part to use by c-cropping or something."

"Thanks Steve," He grinned, fully accepting the rather light painting. "I honestly didn't expect it this soon, how much do I owe you?"

"Y-you don't owe me a-anything." The teen shook his head. "T-think of it as a g-gift between friends."

'We'll see about that.'

It would be one thing if the painting had just been bought of the street or something like that, to have someone take the time and effort to truly paint something unique. To use their own mastery to showcase some emotion or thought entrapped on a canvas, wasn't just something that could be handed out so casually. Such a thing would usually be reserved strictly for birthdays or other special occasions.

So without showing his thoughts outwardly on the matter, he instead carefully peeled off the scotch tape around the corner and finally slid the painting out of it's covering. Just from seeing the mere corner of the art piece was already enough reason why such a thing shouldn't be handed out for free.

An imaginary sky, a swirl of dark blue interspersed with differing shades of dark purple that continued on it's motion even off the canvas. Despite the dark outline of a city that took up about half the space, it was clear it wasn't the focus. A multitude of stars glittered across the background, celestial bodies frozen mid dance. The moon, full in all her glory, gazed down at the world with an edge of disdain. But all that wasn't what attracted his attention.

It was a particular formation of stars, small and inconsequential in comparison to the beauty that was everything. An eye 'gazed' back at him, a glare that felt as though it wanted to peel back the layers that was his entire identity and lay bare his secrets. It filled him with a hint of inevitability that was exactly that would happen the longer he stayed around the painting. And that no manner of bribe would sway this eye to look the other way, it would capture his hidden bits of lore. Gulping them all down until nothing was left until finally leaving him alone, bare and naked to the world.

"I-I'm calling it 'Imaginarius', I-I know it's cliché to use latin here b-but I like the language…"

"What's up with this eye here?" Normally, Albert would feel some degree of guilt for brushing off the teen's gushing but this was of more importance. As just being gazed at the thing made him want to poke it's eye out and ruining a friends' painting would be a sure fire way to completely destroy said friendship. "I don't mean to interrupt you or make you think I'm ungrateful but I gotta know."

"Oh?" Instead of the offended look he expected, Steve only grinned in a way that honestly made him feel giving the teen a knuckle sandwich. Like he knew something. "It d-does? That m-makes it even funnier."

"I-I modeled it after your eyes Albert." He froze in place at those words, turning his full attention to the artist in hopes of receiving a more involved explanation. "W-well that's more of a lie, I'm s-sorry to tell you this b-but your eyes don't sparkle like a c-constellation. I took inspiration from your 'gaze'."

"Is it really like this though?" Even now, despite knowing the eye was technically his own, the urge to at-least cover it up was still so strong. "Did you exaggerate it or something?"

"M-maybe?" Even the lanky teen looked a bit stumped as he scratched his thick curls. "I j-just took inspiration from o-our first meeting, y-you know? You've always had t-this kinda unnerving gaze, not really scary or something. Just like y-you're looking through people, trying to u-undress them with your eyes alone and peel back t-those skeletons in the closet. I t-think that's why Lin went all m-momma bear when y-you first met the group."

"Really?" Albert whipped out his phone and tried to see that gaze through the reflection, but to him only those brown orbs squinted back at him as he tried to see what, apparently, everyone else did. "I don't see it."

"I-I think you just got use to it," Steve shrugged," It's a bit s-shocking at first but you g-grow accustomed to it pretty quick. I-I just tried to capture t-that first moment….but if you don't like it, I can cover it up? It'll be a real quick job so…"

"No." There was no way he would ask an artist to deface their own work to put his own heart at ease, it's not even about being decent at this point. The teen had talent, a lot of it to capture something like this and actually convey that feeling even now. So no matter how unnerving the gaze burning a hole in the side of his face was, he wouldn't ask such a thing. "I do like it, I'm going to get a frame for it and everything. Really, thank you Steve. It's amazing."

"I mean i-it's not that good…" Ah there it goes, classic artist talk. Despite painting a masterpiece, most of them would only ever be able to the 'flaws' that seemed to glaringly obvious to them. The crooked brush strokes, or that part where they covered up a mistake, or how how uneven something look or a variety of other small things they could never overlook. Or maybe it was low self-esteem? "H-honestly, it was a bit a r-rush job. Got it done in less t-than a week and finished it late l-last night….Also I kinda h-had to get it out of the house. Mom's orders… And no-one else was w-willing to let me store it at their p-place."

Just to emphasis, the eye wasn't the main focus of the rather scenic painting itself. But the sheer amount of unease such a gaze invoked forced any to pay attention to it, less they slip up and yet another secret was devoured by that gluttonous maw. If this was truly how his gaze felt to other people, then he had his own problems to deal with.

"How much do I owe you?" The painting was already too valuable to just give out as a gift as is, but along with him pointing out a very dangerous flow that would've made future cases much harder to solve, it would be a spit in this artist's eye and pride not to pay.

"I-I really ca-"

"Nonsense." Albert waved his hand, like swatting away an annoying fly. "You're talented Steve. And there will be people out there who'll take advantage of your kindness because of that exact same talent, but I will not be that person. So here's what I'll do. I will pay you two-hundred dollars now for the initial painting."

"And an additional fifty dollars, minimum, every month until I have fully paid for the value of this painting." He continued, talking over the teen's protests. Steve needed to know what his time and effort is worth, else he'll come across someone who'll take advantage of him. One way or another, this would teach him his value. Appraise positively buzzed with excitement, it's ethereal fingers running across the surface. Admiring the pristine brush strokes and almost shivering in place at the use of palette mixing that seem to have been used. And after looking closer, it could see that only a single paintbrush had been used for the entire painting, a mixture of delicate hand motions and placing used to emulate the use of multiple brushes.

'Five-hundred and sixty-seven dollars.'

That's how much the skill told him the painting was worth, but the price wouldn't be stagnant in the least if Steve continued on this path. It looked like Gotham had yet another high rung artist.

******

In the end, despite Steve's multiple protests, he could only leave dejectedly with money forced into his shaky hands. Albert was sure the teen could've argued all day but they both knew they had stuff to do that day, especially him if he wanted to keep up on the payments. So that's how he found himself following an oh-so familiar path, spotting buildings he had once passed routinely, cracked pavement disappearing and reappearing under the hum of vehicles speeding on past. The heavy smell of exhaust and an almost all encompassing noise of daily city life bombarded him from all sides, something he hadn't missed since moving to his rather secluded home. In fact, he was sure everything had become worse as though to make up for him daring to find peace in the silence.

It wasn't too long after he finally found himself standing before that large brick archway, the land beyond still seeming in stark contrast with the urban jungle that was Gotham. People frolicked from place to place, kids giggling as they chased each other with costumed toys, dogs wagging their tails excitedly as they gulped down the excited air.

Rolling hills, and heavy foliage of trees that reached far above the surrounding walls. Grass so green that it positively glowed under the high sun, it was a rather scenic view in comparison to the rather dower sight just on the other side of that archway. At least, it would've been. In that moment, it made a lot of sense why Ivy never really deigned to mention this strip of nature.

Not a single leaf sprouted outside the stone bricked walls, every strand of grass had the same unnatural green hue that made it seem more like plastic than something naturally made. The bushes harshly trimmed in a way that those strolling across the slab of concrete running throughout the heart of this 'break from city life', could admire from a far but not have to worry about getting scratched up an errant branch. It went beyond the point of pruning, an entire ecosystem built only for the convenience of human enjoyment.

Maybe he was being too harsh, but after spending so much time with the plant savant, the place no longer had the same relaxing feeling it once possessed. Just watching a nearby teen violently rip off an obstinate tree branch made him wince at the drawl voice spewing out yet another lecture, it made him want nothing more than to turn away from this place and never step foot there less the nymph somehow figured out he dared to step upon the 'affront' to nature that is Gotham's City Park.

But sadly, life wasn't always so simple nor fair. If he wanted to truly spread the name of his detective agency, he needed to get himself out there. And simply going door to door like some sort of salesmen didn't sound appealing in the slightest. Maybe it would be preferable once he got around to making some business cards but for now, that notice board was truly his best option.

And so with one more lungful of exhaust filled air, the teen stepped beyond that archway and marched along the persistently managed walkway. Passing some overly enthusiastic dogs, teens dueling each-other with sticks as kids looked in awe at their cool elders putting on a show and a few adults looking on with that familiar nostalgic expression. And even beyond them, elderly people with heads full of gray gazed at the 'younglings' with heart aching fondness. Memories flickering across their dull eyes, mind already zipping back to their past.

It was scenic, a bit of humanity in this cesspool that was Gotham. Here, people could relax. People could forget everything at just take in the bit of peace afforded to them. But once they walked back through that archway, reality would all come crumbling down. Albert wouldn't be surprised someone tried something the moment one of them stepped foot of this hallowed place.

[LCK: 45/45]

'Hopefully it's not me…'

After what felt like an entirety, Albert finally found himself before a familiar object. Standing well above him in height, the wooden structure possessed two legs jammed into the grassed ground, a wide face that far surpassed any normal human's wingspan and covered entirely from every inch in fliers. Some had a more professional air about them and others looked to have been made by hand. Missing pet fliers, general help wanted and even some dreaded ads promoting businesses were present. If there was a need, then it certainly was there.

Just looking at the massive source of IP nearly made him want to begin salivating at the sight, a thought flickering across the endless maw that was his mind. Greed suffused his gaze as it eyed the fliers like a slathering beast fresh out of hibernation.

'I'm going to clear this board.'

It was a ridiculous thought, just looking at the near endless layer of fliers stacked nearly on-top of each other would be to know these request came in a steady flow. He hadn't exactly asked Steve how popular the notice board was, but how good of a promotion would it be if every request here was cleared? Not only would he receive a massive supply of IP but also some reputation for the agency. And if he were to leave business cards with every completed request….

The Seeking Eye Agency would truly begin to spread it's name amongst the general populace, becoming a household name. Truly the worse possible thing for someone like him. Just imagining the endless stream of missing pet reports and whatever possible trouble that might befall him for becoming that famous. Pranks from cruel anonymous people, potential sting operations and most of importantly, he might even pop up on the radar of some of the local crime-lords. Or worse, politicians.

'It just means I'll have to be a bit more selective…' It was a bitter fact, willingly giving up such a massive source of IP. Even if every missing pet poster only gave a single IP, that would still be more than enough to have a steady stockpile. But the trouble such a path would fall upon him just wasn't worth it in the end. No matter how skilled he might become, it wouldn't make him bullet proof nor get rid of his need to sleep. 'I'll just get started with something small and work my way up.'

It was a nice thought, but just looking at fliers wasn't really enough to which were above him. Sure, he could go around touching every poster to prompt the system but that in itself sounded like a good way to waste an entire afternoon. And no matter how serene things might look here, it was still Gotham. Such strange behavior would naturally attract attention and too much attention was poison to someone like him.

With a single finger flicking through the layers, his gaze fell out of focus. He tried to call upon those grains of providence whirling just an inch above his skin, for the umpteenth time he allowed LCK to guide his path forward.

[LCK: 35/45]

Unlike the greedy hand that lurched forward in that dark alley, a thin layer of himself spread out from that single finger of contact. He could feel them flutter through the flier in an insubstantial wave, like his touch had disturbed a still pond. It's effects invisible to the naked eye, but like to believe that breeze that ticked across his skin came from his talent.

As the wave worked it's magic, Albert steadily shuffled down the board spotting plenty of fliers that each drew his eye. There were some requesting a cameraman of sorts, whether it was for weddings, parties or even some for urban exploring. All interesting of course, but he expected those people wouldn't supply a camera for him to use. It was probably why his grains only grazed upon these fliers before flittering away. There were even times the wave left wide openings in it's formation, avoiding certain fliers like gates of hell were just beyond these simple notices. They didn't look strange, nor did they seem to follow a visible pattern.

A lost dog poster, missing person, cameraman request and even a simple tutoring request. If his talent avoided these fliers like the plague, what kind of idiot would he be to ignore the none too subtle warning. Taking extra care, he didn't even allow his fingers to graze the edges of those seemingly cursed fliers and continued on his shuffle step. Before long, something of note happened.

It happened while avoiding another dead-spot in that wave, a heavy breeze blew through the sheets sending to flap against it. Despite how strong the breeze was, they resisted the pull. Sending out the sound of flapping wings, each sheet sung it's song in unison. Their stories and troubles refusing to be blown away by something as petty as a simple breeze, all except one.

His finger kept a single a flier from joining the chorus and along with those grains of providence crashing back into him, Albert knew that this was truly the one. Brown eyes flickered across the poster, a mix of neat handwriting and a smattering of rather childish looking writing that hung off to the side. There was even a crudely drawn picture of a sort of monster with heavy emphasis on it's hairy form and glowing red eyes.

'Strange noises coming from my son's room.' He read through the notice as the remaining flier returned to their previous positions. 'He swears up and down there's something in his closet that keeps making noises at night. I couldn't find anything and even my landlord couldn't find anything. If anyone is interested in hearing the details and wish to help me, my number is done below.'

'There is a monster in my closet, it has glowing red eyes and makes growling noises at me.' The more childish handwriting continued,' It looks like this! Bring any monster slaying weapons tools you might have!'

It was rather amusing to see the word weapon crossed out before a neatly written fix was above but it still nonetheless got the picture across. Albert's lips began to quirk up as he dialed the phone written neatly at the very bottom of the notice, 'And to think Harley laughed at my giant canister of salt…'