Atlas

Sizzle

The day was warm.

The sun shone through the tops of the trees, a blue sky encasing soft yellows. For a warm day, however, I felt rather cold running along the street, thousands of people were unaware of my turmoil.

I stepped onto a crinkled newspaper, the crunch of paper drawing my attention and I tilted my head to get a better look.

‘The Dark Knight Catches the Riddler!’ was printed on the front in large black letters.

I would have picked it up but it was covered in dirt and gunk and I was in a hurry.

‘Fucking Gotham’

I thought as I resumed my pity party. When I first moved to Gotham I was horrified by the scenery.

It was a pretty shady city, with supervillains and regular thugs both competing for causing the most chaos. No one walks around without protection.

I learned within the first week that there are strict unspoken rules. If you want to stay safe you follow them. 

Once it Gets Dark You Stay Indoors

No Back Allies 

Stay in Crowds or Groups 

Don’t Look Them in the Eye

Stay Away from Trouble 

 That last one I wasn’t exactly succeeding at.

Trouble followed you in Gotham.

You couldn’t take a step without gaining the attention of someone.

The waters are always calm on the surface, but one small ripple can shift the entire ecosystem. The butterfly effect was a scary thing, and Gotham practically personified it.

Garbage was piled outside of restaurants and the smell turned the fresh air sour.

Back in Metropolis people thought I was crazy for coming here, but if I had to stay in that high and mighty city for another second I would pull out my hair! 

Sighing as if I was Atlas and the sky was my current destination, I made my way into the large building before me.

Its floor was made of clean white tiles and the walls consisted of decorative plaster.

Pushing through the front door I made my way to the nearest desk, occupied by a woman with long turquoise nails and perfectly styled hair.

She was a bit on the larger side, though not nearly as large as the woman across the room, with dark skin and thunderous brown eyes. 

“Hello, I’m here to see Mr. Darco,” I said, drumming my fingers along the desk.

The woman, Mrs. Livian as her name plack suggests, runs her eyes along my face. 

“Mr. Darco isn’t taking visitors.” She said, looking back to her computer and producing a series of clicks.

Frowning, I lean forward a bit.

“I was called in. I’m here for my son, Eilis.”

Mrs. Livian looked up with a suspicious glare. 

“You’re his mother?” She clarified and I nodded, forcing a smile.

I drummed my fingers once more and Mrs. Livian eyed them with distaste.

“They’re waiting for you in the back.”

She gave me a pass, already filled it out ahead of time, and sent me through.