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Post by Foley on Feb 15, 2013 1:00:51 GMT -5
“Good evening, Metropolis, I’m Cat Grant and this is your WLEX Evening News,” the attractive woman news anchor said as she looked directly at her audience on the other side of the camera lens. Her bright ginger ponytail swaying slightly with her head as she read the teleprompter just under the large metal eye. “Many long time residents know that today is the birthday of the infamous Winslow P. Schott, better known to the world as Superman’s sometime foe The Toyman. In times past this has been ‘celebrated’ by the arch criminal with an attack on Metropolis using his lethal playthings, and despite the fact that Schott is currently incarcerated in the equally infamous Arkham Asylum in Gotham City, and today being his fiftieth was no different.”
A small digitally placed screen appeared just over Cat Grant’s right shoulder as she continued to read off the lead story, adding pictures of the day’s events to her words. “During the noon time rush in downtown Metropolis, a giant teddy bear, estimated to be at least forty feet tall, strolled down the streets punching buildings with the strength of a wreaking ball and firing energy blasts from the bowtie of the Toyman-like costume it wore. The giant teddy bear was also escorted by several squadrons of miniature replicas of the famed World War II Blackhawk fighter planes that strafed the not-so-lucky onlookers with real bullets.” The inset screen now enlarged itself to cover the full screen shot as Grant continued talking, “The Metropolis Police Department’s Special Crimes Unit, seen here being lead into battle by it’s head Jim Harper, a.k.a. The Guardian, were fortunately able to take down the terrible toys while keeping casualties miraculously low and absolutely no fatalities. According to the Guardian as he spoke to the press following the incident, this was because the S.C.U. had been prepared in advanced for any such terrorist attack that Schott may had planned in advance with pre-programmed toys. When asked if he was upset that his officers did not receive any help from Superman, he had this to say.”
The shot changed to a close up on the golden helmeted Guardian speaking into a microphone with the WLEX logo on it, “Superman is this planet’s biggest superhero who just happens to make his home somewhere here in Metropolis. While we at the S.C.U. are very grateful for all that the Man of Steel does for this city, we harbor no ill will he was not on hand to help us today. This is what we have been trained to do in the case that Superman was off dealing with some emergency elsewhere as is obviously the case here.”
The shot returned to Cat Grant behind her desk, “Indeed a spokesman for the Justice League did issue a statement stating the Superman had been detained on the other side of the planet with several other League members in stopping the killer android Amazo from rampaging through a meeting of the heads of the European Union. The Guardian also told gathered reporters that his S.C.U. would follow up on this attack and make sure that Schott had no more birthday surprises planned out.” Grant paused for a moment to take a short breath and then continued, “In other news, more tensions between the President and Congress today…”
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Post by Foley on Feb 15, 2013 1:09:26 GMT -5
Arkham Asylum, Gotham City.
2147 hours.
“SOMEONE STOLE MY TOYS I TELL YOU!!!”
Harper had prepared himself on the long drive from Metropolis to Gotham City for everything he would possibly see here in the most famous madhouse for the criminally insane in the world. From the indifferent, almost glazed over look of the guards who worked here day in and day out to the yelling and bloodcurdling screaming of the “guests” that resided here. He had brought Sam Makoa, the unit’s top detective and interrogator with him to question the Toyman as to whether or not the demented inventor had hidden away anymore of this playthings, and to do that they had to go into the guts of Hell itself. They expected Schott to be pleased that the city had received his latest gift and maybe a little mad that it had been defeated, what they weren’t ready for was Schott to proclaim innocence.
“What do you mean, someone stole your toys?” Harper asked in a calm manner, hoping that Schott would mimic it.
Schott had been brought into the office of Asylum director Hugo Strange in wrist and ankle chains and was now sitting on the couch used for patient therapy. His hands were spread out wide in a pleading manner, “Just that, some bully stole my toys!” Harper thought that this now fifty-year old man sounded more like a five-year old kid then an adult.
Makoa just glared at the man in the orange jumpsuit, “You honestly expect us to believe that you had nothing to do with a forty-foot tall teddy bear rampaging through downtown Metropolis today.” Schott just sat there and gave Makoa a confused look.
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Post by Foley on Feb 15, 2013 1:14:35 GMT -5
“Gentlemen,” came Hugo Strange’s gravelly voice from the shadows behind his oak desk, “Perhaps I can be of some assistance, after all I am Mr. Schott’s primary therapist as well as head administrator here,” There was something about the portly, lump of a man with his shaved bald head and glasses with lenses so thick that his eyes seemed to be owl-like, that while didn’t unnerve Harper, did put the man on edge. It was as if he was studying Harper, trying to figure out what made the hero tick. It reminded Harper of his days around the Cadmus Project and he wasn’t too crazy about that.
Makoa shot Harper a quick questioning glance to which the Guardian just shrugged his broad shoulders in a way that meant, couldn’t hurt. Makoa then looked back at Strange and said, “Go ahead, Doctor.”
Strange walked out, (although it was more like waddled due to his stout girth and bow-legs) and over to Schott until he was standing in front of the arch criminal. “Winslow,” he called out.
Schott seemed to jerk nervously at the sound.
“Winslow,” Strange repeated patiently and calmly.
“Y-yes, Dr. Strange,” stammered Schott, who looked like he would have rather be anywhere else then in that room at that moment.
“What is today, Winslow?”
“M-my birthday,” Schott whispered, a little louder and with a touch of pride, “I am fifty today.”
Harper looked over at Makoa. It was hard to believe that this was the man who was once England’s most famous toy designer and manufacturer or even this was the same person who came to Metropolis to kill Lex Luthor after Luthor’s multi-billion dollar company LexCorp had bought out all of Schott’s patents and company holdings then kicked the man to the curb. What sat before them now seemed to be an almost timid child, proud of it being his birthday today and not some crazy psychopath who used toys as weapons.
“That’s very nice, Winslow,” Strange continued, “And how do you celebrate your birthday?”
“With my toys,” Schott whispered like he was sharing a naughty little secret. A faint smile played on his chapped lips. “With my toys and with Superman.”
“And how do you do that, Winslow.”
Schott looked up, now smiling wide and his eyes were as bright as floodlights, “We play with my beautiful toys!”
Harper stepped forward, he had gotten the gist on how Strange was getting Schott to talk and how to just phrase his questions to keep the man talking. “Like your big teddy bear?”
Schott looked at Harper with a blank look on his face, “Who’re you?”
Strange answered before Harper could, “This is the Guardian. He’s from Metropolis and he’s like Superman.”
“No he’s not,” giggled Schott, “He doesn’t have a cape.”
“But I have played with your toys like Superman does,” Harper said gently, even putting a smile on his face.
“Like my action figures? I made my action figures myself, you know?” Schott asked to which Harper nodded. “Did you like my action figures and the Blackhawk planes? I based them off the real blueprints and everything.”
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Post by Foley on Feb 15, 2013 1:20:12 GMT -5
“I even played with your giant teddy bear.” the Guardian said just as brightly.
“Giant teddy bear?” Schott asked confused.
“Yeah,” Makoa said stepping forward mimicking Harper’s tone of voice, “Ya know, the one as big as a building and dressed up like you used to when you played with Superman.”
Schott’s face lost it’s wide-eyed child aspect and turned very dark, “I haven’t built my forty foot Toy-Bear yet, gentleman. Superman didn’t like the last game we played with all the children of that hospital and so he put me in time out.” The last time that Schott had broken out of jail, he had targeted the Metropolis Children’s Hospital creating a giant board game filled with deadly traps and obstacles, both of the normal dangerous kind and the kryptonite-powered variety. It took the combined efforts of Superman and Wonder Girl, Superboy, and Joto of the Teen Titans to get through the game and defeat Schott. “You say you played with my Toy-Bear, Guardian?” Schott asked darkly as he glared at the blue-and-gold garbed man.
“Yes,” Harper replied, bringing his golden police-badge shaped shield a little more forward. The look on Schott’s face was less then comforting, “My friends and I played with him today. We thought it was a birthday party surprise like the ones you do with Superman every year on your special day.”
Suddenly Schott angrily turned to look at Hugo Strange, “THEY STOLE MY TOYS!!!!” He screamed in a fit of rage pointing at Makoa and Harper, “You heard them, they admitted it! They said they played with my Toy-Bear! They’re just as bad as Luthor, they stole my designs and played with my toys without me!”
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Post by Foley on Feb 15, 2013 1:25:05 GMT -5
Harper decided he had heard enough. He motioned to Makoa and the two left Strange to calm Schott down, which Harper was sure was going to take a needle full of something or other. Makoa was more then glad to get out of the creepy director’s office and Harper couldn’t blame him, but as they got outside the last checkpoint and were walking towards Makoa’s car, Harper could tell that his long time friend was confused. “What’s up, Jim?” he asked as he got into the driver’s seat.
“We heard enough.”
“Enough what?” asked Makoa, starting the car, “That Schott is as grade-a a loony as they say?”
“That,” Harper answered, “And he wasn’t behind today’s events.”
“Yer helmet getting a little too tight. Pal? Schott said he had a giant teddy bear.”
Harper shook his head slightly, “No, he said he had designs for a teddy bear like the one we fought today. He said he hadn’t built it yet and you saw how upset he was when he thought we had stolen those designs.”
“Yeah, he said we were as bad as Luthor,” Makoa huffed with displeasure, “The nerve.”
Harper chuckled slightly before saying, “Be that as it may, if Schott didn’t set the toys to go ‘play’ and we certainly didn’t’ steal the plans for them…”
“Then someone else did,” Makoa finished the open ended statement. “So what, we got another loony tone running around out there with a thing for toys?”
“Looks like it.” said Harper, “Question is who and why. Schott may have been crazy and murderous, but he always took credit for his actions. After all, they were his creations and he had always been proud of his toys. Whoever is behind today’s attacks seems content for letting Schott take the rap for it.”
“It’s convenient. The prep gets the mayhem and Schott gets the blame.”
“Too convenient,” Harper rubbed his chin, “I got a hunch that maybe there is more to this then meets the eye.”
“All I know is two things,”
Harper turned and looked at Makoa, “Oh?”
“Yeah,” replied the plan-clothes detective with a jerk of his thumb back towards the asylum, “One, I’m sure as hell glad the majority of these nut balls stay here in Gotham and give Gordan and Batman all the grief instead of hitting our town.”
“And the other?”
“That I was right about moving here from Hawaii was nothing but a huge mistake.”
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Post by Foley on Feb 15, 2013 1:38:36 GMT -5
HUGO Strange watched as the Guardian and his partner exited then main gate in their late model car. His guards had quickly subdued Schott and had taken him back to his cell, leaving Strange to his thoughts about the head of the S.C.U. From first glance, Strange could tell that the shield swinging hero was very intelligent. Not many people would’ve adapted the same method of speaking to Schott that Strange learned was most effective in bringing out the inner child in the man, Guardian’s partner only barely touched on it and that was only towards the end of the discussion. But the Guardian…the Guardian was definitely highly intelligent and adaptable. Of course one had to be if one was going to don the figurative cape and cowl of a superhero.
Strange sat back down at his desk and steeple his fingers as to go into deep thought. He had know even before the two officers had arrived that Schott was innocent of the day’s attack. Schott’s cell was swept everyday to make sure the insane toymaker had not cobbled together a device or drew up plans for some painful plaything. But the fact that the hero had not out and out accused Schott intrigued Strange. Truth was anyone who dressed up and played the hero intrigued Strange. And while the Batman, Gotham’s local crusader, had long been a source of fascination, Strange felt that this Guardian may be another source of insight into the mindset of heroes. Of course what he had seen was just one part of his new found interest in Jim Harper. There had been rumors that the Guardian of the second World War and the man that had been there were in fact one in the same. Sort of. Strange had access to rumors that the general public did not and those rumors painted the picture that the current Guardian is a product of the cloning experiments that had been conducted at the some what secret Cadmus Project. If this was more then just conjecture from wild sources then this made the Guardian even more attractive as a subject to study. One Strange was finding himself harder and harder to resist.
He decided to monitor this current case of the obvious Toyman copycat closely to see how the Guardian handles himself. Strange also knew that if he wanted more information on his subject then he was going to have to seed the S.C.U. with a few operatives of his own. He would also see what he could dig up in regards to the now defunct Cadmus Project in regards to proving or disproving the clone rumor. Once that was done, and Strange had gathered enough information, he could then go about the task of testing his new subject. Strange’s lips parted in a wide grin. Testing was always the part of his research into the mind he loved, even if it broke his test subjects and sent them into an insane ward much like the one he ran.
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