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Booster Gold #15 - Tomorrow Knight, Part Two


Issue #15: Tomorrow Knight, Part Two
Written by: dwright5252
Edited by:AdamantAce, Fortanono
<Last Issue
Then (Relatively)
“I just want to go on record that this is frakking ridiculous.” Booster shook his head back and forth, angry that Rip would suggest something this outrageous. Here he was, a willing Time Master in training, having to recruit someone who definitely wouldn’t be on board to galavant around the time stream kicking ass and taking names.
“Since when are you against missions?” Rip asked him casually, typing away at a glass pad he held in front of him. “Liri, is everything set for the mission?”
All systems are operating nominally, Captain,” Liri responded cheerfully.
Booster rolled his eyes. “I’m not operating ‘nominally’, Liri,” he shouted. “I don’t even know what the frakk I’m supposed to do here exactly.”
“If you’re this resistant to performing this mission, I could just do it-” Rip began before Booster placed his hand over his mouth.
“No no no, I need to get off of this time ship, stretch my legs. Just know I’m not happy that you want to recruit this guy even though you’re so anti-team. How is it not a team if we enlist him? Last I checked, you plus me, plus Skeets, plus Matt-”
Rip stared hard at Booster. “Matthew is not a field agent; he’s purely technical support until we place him back in his rightful time. And it’s not a team if there isn’t another Time Master working with him. If he does well enough, he’s your replacement.”
Booster’s fist clenched. “So you want me… to convince the guy who’s taking my place to be a Time Master? Sounds like a stellar idea.”
Rip shrugged, turning back to the console and typing into it. “I have my reasons for doing what I do. For now, watch over him on his tryout and see how he does in figuring out the puzzle.”
“Ah yes, the puzzle, another thing you won’t tell me about. Why should I go into this with any information? Why not just zap my memories and have me stumble my way into what I need to do?” Booster exhaled roughly. “Whatever. I’ll find the geriatric Grayson and convince him to Time Master it up. Might be good to get back to trying to be an actual hero anyways.”
Booster waited for a smart reply from his doppelganger, but heard nothing but silence. Skeets approached him slowly, clearly having waited for the argument to die down.
Sir, permission to escort Michael on this mission?” Skeets didn’t look at Booster, instead staring at Rip with what he thought was a nervous wobble.
“Granted, though you’ll need to be cloaked. I’ve outfitted you with a low grade invisibility field that should do the trick. As for you, Booster...” Rip grabbed Booster’s arms, typing into his gauntlets with unnecessary force. “I’m making sure you can’t fuck up this mission by hurting anyone.”
I do not think that will be a-” Skeets began.
“Trust me, boss. Contrary to popular belief, I know what I’m doing now.”
Later (From a Certain Point of View)
“What the hell are we doing here?” Booster yelled as the Bat-Mob opened fire on them. He instinctively activated his force field belt, watching as the bullets ricocheted off of the invisible barrier and into the ceiling and walls around him.
I believe we’re assisting Mr. Grayson in finding his offspring,” Skeets reported, turning invisible to avoid the gunfire.
“Great job so far,” Dick said through gritted teeth as he somersaulted out of the line of fire and behind a line of supply crates. Booster rushed to join him, only for one of the armored mob members to charge at him. He fired a blast into their chest, only for them to stagger slightly but continue their attack. Using the momentum of the charge, Booster flipped them over, crashing them into the crates that Dick was using for cover. He cursed quietly that he wasn’t able to turn his wrist gauntlets up to a higher setting, knowing their armor would definitely be able to take it.
“How could you let Clark do this!” Dick shouted, vaulting the crates and rushing towards the Mob leader. “He’s my son!”
“At least one of the Graysons wants to save the world,” seethed Kate Kane, tossing a batarang directly at Dick’s head. Booster saw him attempt to dodge it, only for it to graze his cheek. He stopped in his tracks and felt the wound, clearly shocked that he wasn’t fast enough to avoid it. Kate took advantage of his hesitation and roundhouse kicked him in the chest, sending him flying backwards. Dick struggled back to his feet, and Booster heard him grunt with pain. Before he could rush over to help him, he found himself pinned to the ground by Tim Drake.
“So you’re one of Dick’s cop friends?” he asked, his fist reflecting off the force field as he tried to punch him. Booster saw him reach into his pocket and pull out a small device that he activated, and he felt his force field shudder and then turn off.
“Something like that,” Booster replied, attempting to roll away from the former Robin. Tim slammed his fist into Booster’s face, causing blood to rush out of his nose at an alarming rate. As he was about to punch him again, Tim was suddenly launched back by an unseen force.
It seems you are lucky I insisted on supervising you on this mission,” Skeets said coyly as it shimmered into view. “Both you and Richard Grayson seem to be struggling in your skirmish with the Bat-Mob.
“Maybe if we had a little help,” Booster grunted, lifting himself off the ground as he clutched his nose, “we’d be doing much better.”
He looked over and saw Dick trading blows with Kate. It seemed like Dick was getting some good shots in, but he was clearly outmatched by the more in-shape mob leader.
I believe a tactical retreat is recommended, especially if you would like me to set your nose so it doesn’t heal crooked,” Skeets informed him as a blast of thick smoke rushed into the room from the robot’s body. Booster rushed over to Dick, grabbing his arm as he followed Skeets out of the room.
“I had her on the ropes,” Dick panted, clutching his rib in pain. “We can-”
“We can get out of here before I have to live with an imperfect face,” Booster asserted, rushing through the sewer tunnels as thunderous footsteps and the sound of jet packs began to grow closer behind them. “Skeets, do we have any way to lose these guys?”
As their familiarity with these tunnels is rivaled only by my own,” Skeets began, “I believe our best option is to try and outrun them.
“Or,” Dick said, pulling out a small brick of what Booster recognized as C4. “We can do this.”
He quickly attached the C4 to the side of the tunnel, running past Booster and Skeets deeper into the sewer. Booster followed suit, seeing him pull a detonator from his pocket.
“Frakk!” he yelled as the C4 exploded, collapsing the tunnel behind them in a cacophonous roar. The trio stopped to catch their breath (except Skeets, who stopped to be polite).
That was an inventive solution for our problem, Richard Grayson,” Skeets said cheerily, causing Booster to roll his eyes right before a metal claw set his nose back into place with a loud pop. “I can see why Rip Hunter wishes for you to become a Time Master.
“Stole the C4 when I dove behind the supply crates,” Dick said in between breaths. “Would’ve been much easier if someone didn’t destroy my cover.”
“Well excuse me, Old Boy Wonder,” Booster snarkily replied, rubbing his nose as tears ran down his eyes. “I was too busy trying to get us out of that death trap. Need you alive to become a Time Master like Rip wants.”
“Still not happening,” Dick said in between breaths. “Let’s focus on getting to my son. You said he’s in Joker territory?”
“Yeah, that’s what Rip’s intel on this place said,” Booster confirmed. “They control Otisburg, the Diamond District, and most of the Heights. Probably the second worst place you could be in Gotham. Almost complete anarchy there from all accounts.”
“The second worst place?” Dick asked. “What’s the worst?”
“Middle of Burnley, actually surrounded by the Joker territory. Gang that calls themselves the Mutants. They’re said to eat trespassers.”
“Jesus,” Dick said. “I don’t recognize this Gotham at all.”
Booster looked at him incredulously. “What do you mean? You’re basically the architect of all of this. You can’t see your own handiwork?”
“Commissioner Forbes did this, not me. I’d never let this happen. I’d never let citizens of Gotham suffer like this, let the police department run rampant. Helena would’ve-”
“Helena’s been lobbying to get the government to reclaim Gotham, but you’ve been running interference,” Booster reported, typing into his wrist gauntlet to bring up her file. “A DA can only do so much when their Commissioner isn’t helping them. Forbes built it, you tolerated it.”
Booster saw Dick lean against the wall, clearly frustrated. He had the urge to comfort him, to tell him it will all work out.
Instead he said, “God, you’re so dour. Weren’t you supposed to be the cheerful Robin?” Booster stared at Dick, who bowed his head slightly as he pushed on through the water.
“I was meant to be a lot of things.”
We should be exiting into Otisburg after this tunnel,” Skeets reported, breaking the silence that had been in effect for the remainder of their journey. “Though it seems the grates have been welded shut.” Dick scoffed and moved towards the bars, struggling to push them out.
“Put your back into it!” Booster said, brushing past him to help as he pointed his gauntlets at the bars’ edges and finely lasered them to shake them loose. “On second thought, maybe don’t. A man your age might throw it out doing too much.”
“You’re a regular barrel of laughs, aren’t you?” Dick said through gritted teeth as the bars came free. “Seems like we’re going to the best place for you-”
The words escaped Dick’s lips as they exited the sewer grating, and Booster was immediately hit by the most horrifying image he had ever seen. Despite knowing in his mind that he was still in Gotham, it seemed like they had been transported to some garish version of Hell. Pastel colors were splotched haphazardly onto every surface, their brightness at times rotted into a darker brown color that he recognized was dried blood. Bright neon signs welcomed them to Jokerville, pointing the way to the “Arcade,” which Booster saw was a shooting gallery lined with unfortunate citizens and live ammunition, while another sign displayed the way to the “Freak Show”, and he caught a glimpse of a few individuals chained up to posts as various clown attired gang members tossed fruits and other rotted foods at them. Massive tents of green and purple were erected around them, with screams and laughter emanating from them all.
“My god...” Dick whispered, picking up a fallen clown mask to hide his face. Before the plastic covered him, Booster saw the horror in his eyes. “I can’t believe… I would never-”
“Never say never,” Booster grimaced, trying his best to look forward, to not get drawn into the suffering and perverted glee around them. Every bone in his body told him to run, told him to run as far away from certain death as he could, but he knew they had to press on. They couldn’t help these people unless they helped Dick first.
Michael, my scanners indicate that a beacon not dissimilar to the Bat-Mob’s is somewhere in the area,” Skeets confirmed into Booster’s earpiece. “Though the interference from the attractions is preventing an accurate location from being triangulated.
“He could be anywhere,” Dick groaned, looking at the roller coaster that rushed over their heads at breakneck speeds. Booster saw that some of the riders were screaming, while others were very still.
“For someone that you haven’t even met yet, you sure do seem concerned about Clark,” Booster whispered. Dick turned to him, his blue eyes looking angry through the slits in the clown mask.
“How would you feel if you discovered someone who you were supposed to protect, to keep safe, was in danger? Whether it was me or not, Dick Grayson failed this boy. I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like to not be there for someone who needs you.”
Booster grimaced, pushing away images of his mother and sister from his mind. “Yeah, guess I don’t.”
Not to prevent important emotional thresholds from being crossed,” Skeets interrupted, “But there seem to be a number of individuals all around us approaching our location.
“Sorry, old man. Retirement home burned down last week.”
A manic voice sounded from behind them, causing the trio to turn and see a lone man in clown makeup approaching them. He was hulking, wearing a pair of black overalls and a red shirt over snow white skin. He rubbed his bald head and snapped his lone suspender as two others fell in behind him, one wearing a clown mask and a pink body suit covering his obese body while the other twirled a jack o’ lantern and doffed his witch’s hat at them, stitches covering the bare skin that ripped through his tattered pumpkin shirt. Dick moved to walk away from them, only for two young women to cartwheel in front of him, their smiles accentuating the rosy circles adorned on their cheeks.
“He’s a bit of a silver fox, isn’t he, Dee-Dee?” One of the girls said, and as they got closer Booster saw they were twins.
“Smells like a pig though, Dee-Dee,” the other responded, pinching her nose and wiping her hand back and forth in front of it. The Jokerz surrounded the trio, soon joined by another gang member sporting a purple leather jacket and slapdash clown makeup on his face, the red paint dripping down from the lips like blood.
“Glad you can join us, T,” the jack o’ lantern Joker smiled. “We know how much you love the trespassers.”
“I never miss an opportunity to put a smile on someone’s face, Ghoul.” T flourished his hand, suddenly brandishing a switchblade that he pointed at Booster. “You look lost, Blondie. Helping granddad cross the street?”
“We don’t want any trouble,” Booster said calmly, holding his hands up. On a different day, he knew he’d be able to take out these punks single handedly. However, the fight against the sewer ninjas had taken away all of his energy. He hoped Dick would follow suit in trying to keep calm.
“Let us through,” Dick said forcefully, tossing his mask away and moving to push through them. The overalls Joker blocked him, thumping his shoulder into Dick. “I don’t have time for this!”
To Booster’s dismay, Dick threw a punch at the hulking Joker, who barely dodged the punch. Booster moved to help, but found his arms grabbed by the surprisingly strong twins.
“We like a little vigor in our victims,” the one called Ghoul chuckled, pulling a pistol from the inside of his jack o’ lantern and pointing it at Booster’s head. “Makes the game more fun.”
A dark laughter echoed around them, seeming to unnerve the Jokerz. Booster followed the voice upward, where he saw an imposing figure dressed in Bat-Mob attire looming over them. He slammed a smoke pellet down, cutting off all visibility. Booster and Dick leapt into action, with Dick clotheslining the overall wearing leader while Booster dodged the pistol and the swinging jack o’lantern, landing a swift punch to the Ghoul’s face. The Bat-Mob member landed on top of the rotund Joker, planting his foot into his face hard. Booster turned around to take out the twins, only to see the Joker known as T knock their heads together. He pressed a finger to his lip and slipped into the smoke.
“Playtime’s over, Jokerz,” the Bat-Mobber said, and Booster cursed himself for not making the first quip. “Go run back to Daddy.”
The Jokerz stumbled to their feet, rushing through the smoke around them. The Bat-Mob member took off his full mask, revealing a face that Booster thought looked remarkably like Dick’s unwrinkled visage.
“Clark,” Dick breathed, rushing to embrace his son. Instead of returning the gesture, Clark backed away from him, a look of disgust on his face.
“Sorry, citizen,” Clark said mockingly. “I know I just saved your life, but I have a thing about personal space.”
“Schway entrance, Clark,” the Joker known as T appeared as the smoke cleared, wiping the clown makeup from his face to reveal a rather good looking figure. “But you almost blew my cover.”
“Sorry, McGinnis, had to save my old man here from getting himself killed.” Clark pushed past his father to shake the former Joker’s hand.
“Oh frakk, you were undercover!” Booster excitedly exclaimed. “Also, have to say it’s pretty schway you guys use schway here.”
“Who’s the dreg?” McGinnis asked, pointing at Booster with a look of amusement on his face.
“He’s with me, as is my son,” Dick asserted. “Let’s get you out of here, Clark.”
“Oh I’m sorry, when did we get on bossing me around terms again?” Clark tossed McGinnis his helmet, who caught it deftly.
“Since you decided to come back into Gotham when you were safe in Metropolis.”
Booster saw Dick’s anger building, and knew better than to interject.
“Consider me whelmed by your fatherly instincts,” Clark responded, waving a dismissive hand at his dad. “You didn’t care until Mom called you.”
“I’m glad she did, because your actions here are unbelievably risky. Why would you scare her like that? Scare me like that? This isn’t your job.” Dick and Clark drew closer and closer to each other with each statement, getting closer and closer to what Booster knew would be the point of no return.
“You’re right, it’s not my job. It’s your job, a job you’ve been failing at ever since you joined the GCPD. Somebody has to keep this city safe. Safe from bad guys like the Joker or Scarecrow. Safe from bad guys like you.” Clark was in his father’s face, a tear of anger streaming down his face.
“I’ve failed at a lot of things, but apparently I failed you most as a parent,” Dick responded, his voice cracking with frustration. “If I have a son this stupid, this willing to throw his life away for nothing, then I really have failed as a father.” Dick began to turn and walk away.
“You can say that again,” Clark said, almost inaudibly. Dick swerved back, rushing into his son’s face.
“I guess there was only so much I could do to set you straight, but clearly you’re beyond help!”
Clark’s eyes went wide, then he gave a mirthless chuckle. Booster was speechless, unsure what to do.
“Glad you confirmed something I’ve known for a while,” Clark said hoarsely, turning to grab his helmet from McGinnis, who looked as shocked as Booster. Placing the mask over his head, he jetted up to the rooftops and away from the fight, away from the pain and away from his relationship with his father. McGinnis followed close behind, running into the alleyway he came from.
Booster walked towards Dick, who stood staring at the ground where his clown mask lay. As he reached to place a comforting arm on his shoulder, Dick’s phone began to ring. Instinctually, Dick took it out of his pocket and placed it next to his ear.
“What?” he said, his voice quiet.
“Commissioner, we’re ready to implement Operation Nightfall. Need your confirmation to give the go ahead.” Stephanie Brown’s voice came in clear through the phone, as if she were right there next to them. Booster, remembering what Rip said would happen with the operation, immediately felt the dread go through his body.
“Dick, don’t do it,” he said as calm as he could. “You don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Dick looked at Booster with the pain of someone who just lost his entire life. “Do it.”
The massive wall behind them erupted into flames, reigning debris and fire upon the unsuspecting citizens of Jokerville.
As the smoke from the walls began to clear, Booster heard the telltale sirens of squad cars headed their way. The force field belt had shielded the three of them with all of its power from the debris that rained down from the destroyed structure, but the rest of the area didn’t seem to fare as well. Several of the Jokerz stumbled out of their tents, blood pouring from wounds and dust covering them all. Booster pulled a shocked Dick out of the way of a cop car blazing toward them, its occupants shooting their guns into the air in a gesture of power.
“What… what happened?” Dick asked, looking at the carnage around them.
“Operation Nightfall,” Booster repeated, pulling up his gauntlets and displaying a map of Gotham. All of the massive walls separating the sections of the city were demolished by explosives, with massive fires and destruction popping up all around. “Your plan to reunite the city under GCPD rule. Your plan was to destroy the walls and let the gangs take care of each other, then have the cops swoop in as the saviors.”
Booster pressed a button, tuning into the police scanners across the city.
All units, report in. Penguin’s down. Repeat, Penguin’s down.”
Reporting mass rioting in Mrs. Freeze’s turf. Scarecrow’s crew is massacring them.
GCPD has control of Tricorner Island. The crime families are dead.
Dick pulled his phone back up to his ear as the voice of Stephanie Brown reappeared. “Commissioner, we have regained control of Arkham. The Bat Mob didn’t know what hit them, mission accomplished.
Dick blinked. “Kate… Tim… Luke…”
Yes sir, they were confirmed among the bodies.” Stephanie almost sounded gleeful, Booster noted as he shut the scanners off. Dick dropped his phone and walked back out onto the street, taking in the madness around him. The police and the Jokerz were engaged in a bloody bout, the body count rising with every bullet fired and every explosion triggered.
“I… did this?” Dick asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. Booster nodded, turning to Skeets for something inspiring to say.
I believe our best course of action is to head back to Fort Gotham,” Skeets suggested, pulling up a map and showing a route they could take. “It seems that Black Mask’s territory is still largely standing, so a path through there might be our best option. Though we’ll have to cross over into Scarecrow territory.
Booster nodded, pushing Dick forward as they sprinted through the streets. The Jokerz were too preoccupied fighting off the police to notice them as they made their way past the broken wall into the heart of Scarecrow Country.
The horrors of Jokerville were nothing compared to the haunted house that this district had become, filled row by row with scarecrows made of corpses. The police in this district had their hands full, Booster saw, as the henchmen of Jonathan Crane had adopted guerilla warfare tactics. They stopped behind a burnt out car as a platoon of officers marched with military precision down the lane, only for the human scarecrows lining the street to leap out at them and attack, spraying yellow gas in their faces. Skeets produced two gas masks for Booster and Dick as the officers began to succumb to their greatest fears. The scarecrows scavenged their convulsing bodies for weapons and gear, disappearing into the smoke that had taken over the city.
“Ok, let’s move,” Booster said, slightly unnerved by the sight of shambling straw men vanishing without a trace.
Finally they came to Sprang Bridge. A blockade of police stopped their momentum, guns training on them as they attempted to cross. Dick held up his badge and shouted, “This is your commissioner. Let us pass!”
One beat cop rushed up to Dick, a smirk on his face that reminded Booster of his own whenever he was trying to piss off Rip.
“Commish, this is going better than we’d hoped for!” he reported. “They’re tearing each other apart.”
“I need a way back to Fort Gotham,” Dick told the patrolman, who’s gleeful face turned dark.
“We’d love to help, but we’re under orders to hold this bridge. Besides, Sionis has wrecked the roads. You’ll have to go on foot, but I can send a patrol with-”
“That won’t be necessary,” Dick quickly said, and Booster saw him tense up at the thought of having more officers around him. “We’ll manage.”
The officer saluted Dick, who returned it reluctantly. Booster mocked a salute to the officer, who gave him the finger as Dick moved past him.
Booster was surprised how together Black Mask’s territory seemed compared to the others, with the buildings actually looking like normal businesses and skyscrapers. Of course, the illusion was broken when a group of sharp dressed men wearing masks rushed past them, headed into the fray against henchmen made up to look like marionettes.
One notion that continually surprises me about Gotham’s criminal underworld is their creativity,” Skeets said, sounding impressed. Booster reasoned that the puppet men must have worked for Scarface, the neighboring faction to the Black Mask. Though mobs in the 25th century worked differently, Booster had heard of their ferocity and loyalty, which clearly showed in how these tough, toxic masculinity-riddled men were willing to dress like ventriloquist dummies just to please their boss.
“Help! Someone please help!” A woman cried out, her voice sounding close. Dick shook his head to clear it and sprinted towards the sound of her voice, with Booster following close behind. As they rounded the corner of an abandoned movie theater into a nearby alleyway, they came across the site of a police officer holding a couple at gunpoint, the two of them shielding their son.
Dick held up his badge and rushed in front of the officer. “Stand down, patrolman! These people are harmless.”
Booster saw the officer look panickedly at Dick, then began to laugh. “Good one, Commish. Now I want your wallet and jewels, now!”
“Please, we just escaped from the Stock Exchange,” the man pleaded, pushing his son further behind him. “We have nothing.”
“You still have your lives,” the officer said menacingly. Dick quickly grabbed at the officer’s gun, deftly disarming the man as he struck his sternum hard with the palm of his hand. The officer doubled over in pain as the family ran to safety past him, giving quick thanks to Dick as they rushed into the frenzy.
“... Wow, didn’t think you could still do that.”
Clark landed in front of them, taking his helmet off. Dick’s body language immediately softened as his son approached him.
“Clark… I’m sorry,” he said softly, cautiously moving closer to his son. Clark made no move to leave, and Dick took that as an invitation for a hug.
Booster noticed Clark did not quite return the hug, but allowed his father to embrace him fully. Shirking out after a few seconds, Clark cleared his throat and looked at the ground.
“Listen, I know you couldn’t have wanted this to happen,” he said, gesturing to the glowing embers of Gotham. “You could’ve let your man run rampant on that family, but you stopped him.”
“This is more than just one bad cop,” Dick said solemnly. “We need to keep these people safe, and I don’t think flashing my badge is going to be any help.”
Clark smiled. “You mean-”
Dick nodded, holding out his hand to his son. Clark shook it enthusiastically, holding his helmet out to Dick to take. As he placed the mask on his head, Booster was taken aback how much he looked like-
“Let’s go to work,” Dick said, his voice modulated from the cowl. Clark beamed ear from ear and followed his father out of the alley. Booster began to rush after them, only to be stopped by Skeets.
Perhaps we should allow the reunited father and son their time to crack skulls,” Skeets told Booster. “I believe this is the solution to the puzzle Rip had informed you about.
“Maybe you’re right, Skeets,” Booster responded, watching as the father and son duo launched themselves at the nearest False Facers, Black Mask’s goons. To Booster’s eyes, it was like watching a trapeze act at the big top, the elder Dick launching his opponents into the air as the younger Clark flew in to smack them down. They seemed… whole, like they were birds finally let out of their cages.
Michael, look ou-” Skeets started to warn Booster of the baseball bat that cracked into his skull, sending stars dancing across his eyes. He fell to his knees as the assailant that grounded him walked past him, whistling a jaunty tune as he swung the bat around. Through his swimming vision, Booster saw the man was dressed in a dapper purple suit, had ash white skin with vibrant green hair and the biggest smile Booster ever saw when he looked back at him.
The man dropped the baseball bat as he saw the dynamic duo fighting off the goons, pulling an absurdly large gun from his coat. Booster tried to yell out, tried to warn Dick that this man was about to-
The gun’s barrel blasted back, its bullet finding its home in Clark’s back. Dick immediately stopped fighting the goon as he rushed to his son’s side.
“Well, well, well,” the smiling man said in a grandiose way, his shrill and gravelly voice sending a chill down Booster’s spine. “It seems the Boy Blunder’s baby bird left the nest a little too soon!
A group of Jokerz rallied from out of nowhere, grabbing a despondent Dick Grayson by the arms as their leader leaned down into the hero’s face. He thumbed another bullet into his revolver and shortened the barrel down by pressing it hard into Dick’s forehead. “I can’t believe you came all the way to my front door without saying hello. Such a terrible guest! Your gang members tried to stop me at the bridge, but they were more than happy to let me by eventually, just in time for you to graciously accept my little gift!”
The Joker smiled widely, his jaundiced eyes bearing into Dick’s with a menace that reminded Booster of the Apokoliptan god Steppenwolf.
“Bet you really missed me, Dicky-Boy.”
Dick Grayson awoke with a start, dripping in sweat as he jolted upwards in his bed. The room around him came into view as he slowed his breathing: the vaulted ceiling, the well worn and polished armoire in the corner, the sturdy reinforced door. He was back at Wayne Manor, he was home. He rushed over to his full length mirror at the far side of the room, checking to see if he was still old. To his relief, he saw his typical black hair, toned body and unwrinkled face. Most importantly, there was no trace of a bullet hole in his forehead from-
Dick forced it out of his mind and breathed a heavy sigh, glad to be back in 2020.
He turned to go back to his bed, hoping he wouldn’t have to revisit that dream again. Before he could get back under the covers, he noticed a small photo lying on the ground upside down.
Carefully, Dick picked up the piece of photo paper, flipping it over to see a photograph of him and his son.
He swallowed hard, holding the photo close to his chest. A flood of feelings rushed through him as a tear rolled down his cheek.
The interior of the Waverider came into view suddenly, replacing the carnage and destruction of Gotham City with the cold steel of the time ship. Booster rose from his knees and looked around, noticing Skeets having a similar reaction to the sudden teleport.
“Rip, send us back!” Booster yelled, trying to find the Time Master. “The kid is hurt!”
“Don’t worry about that.” Rip’s voice echoed through the room as he entered, a smirk on his face. “Mission accomplished.”
Booster walked up to him, his brows furrowed in confusion. “You mean… we were supposed to let the kid die?”
“Well, yes and no,” Rip said cryptically, helping steady Booster from the teleport. “The main thing was to get Dick to realize the path he’s currently on is only going to lead to disaster.”
“Wait, so we It’s a Wonderful Life’d Dick Grayson?” Booster ruffled his hair in confusion.
“If that’s what helps you understand, sure. I can’t believe you ran into the Joker of all people. Just goes to show how crazy that future would have been.”
“What do you mean, ‘would have been?’” Booster walked over to Rip, who had positioned himself by the central console. Pressing a button, Rip brought up a display of a man dressed in a sleek black suit, soaring high over a neon-lit city with a red bat emblazoned on his chest.
This is what the future looks like now,” Rip said, grinning as he sat down. “Of course, the future’s always in flux, but at least we put it on the right path and avoided a massive anomaly.”
“I can’t believe I had to walk through an old tomb just to teach Dick Grayson a lesson,” Booster lamented, smelling his clothes only to gag at the stench.
“If we told him exactly what he needed to learn, he’d have been too stubborn to learn it,” Rip said casually, leaning back in his seat. “And it also helped that you passed your test as well.”
“... You were testing me?” Booster asked incredulously, looking at Skeets to see if his companion knew. “Are you sure you’re not just backpedaling because I actually did a great job?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Rip said coyly before getting a serious look on his face. “As much as I hate to admit it, you proved me wrong. Savor that sentence, because I’m not saying it again as long as I live. But, because you’ve been a good boy, I think it’s time for your reward.”
Rip suddenly rose from his seat and rushed over to the table behind the console.
“Liri, bring up the prospects.”
A massive projection appeared behind Rip, showing a wide array of colorful people. Booster recognized some of them as heroes, others as villains, while some seemed unfamiliar to him. Each picture had a name attached to the bottom, and Booster clicked on one of them to find a complete dossier pop up on who they were and what they did.
“We’re finally forming that team you wanted,” Rip smiled, tossing Booster a glass tablet that was deftly caught. “You get first pick in the draft.”
Booster Gold is about to get some teammates! Be sure to come back next month for Legends of Tomorrow #1!
submitted by dwright5252 to DCNext


TIL that a Mormon bishop castrated a young man in a brutal manner and Brigham said, “Meh, I still sustain him.”

TL;DR: Mormon bishop Warren Stone Snow led a mob who castrated a young man in a brutal manner, “leaving their victim lying on the snow-covered ground on what was described as ‘a bitter cold night.’” He laid there for 48 hours. When Brigham Young was discussing the issue, he quoted Jesus and said, “I will tell you that when a man is trying to do right & do[es] some thing that is not exactly in order I feel to sustain him.” He then wrote Warren a letter to affirm his friendship.
The recent post Exmo Church Site Tour mentioned “The site where Brigham Young had a rival for one of his intended young brides castrated.” I did some research and found a thesis written in 1985 about bishop Warren Stone Snow. It’s called Warren Stone Snow, A Man in Between: The Biography of a Mormon Defender and was written by John A. Peterson. A PDF is available here at byu.edu. Go to page 109 to read about the castration. I do not believe it had anything to do with “a rival for one of his intended young brides,” but Brigham was a total asshole. Here’s a summary from the thesis with emphasis added by me:
Immersed in a spirit of retribution he had learned from Joseph Smith, Brigham Young, and the Mormon community in general, Warren often “spoke of the meanness of Levi Williams” and other mobbers responsible for Joseph’s death and the Saints’ persecutions. He was serious in his desire to avenge their wrongs.... This spirit of retaliation at times carried over into his dealings with the Saints. Echoing words he had heard his leaders use, he often threatened them that “the time would come when a man who did anything worthy of being cut off from the church...would be cut off from the earth.” As far as he was concerned, “it was better to kill a man in faith than to let him damn himself” by evil conduct....
These ideas were based on the Law of Moses in the Old Testament wherein ancient Israel was commanded that if a man and woman commit adultery “then they shall both of them die.”.... Therefore Brigham preached, if a man were found guilty of adultery, “he must have his blood shed.”
But Brigham tempered his teaching by saying “the time will come, and is now nigh at hand” for such doctrine to be practiced, but is “not yet” here. Other Mormon leaders, however, were not so temperate in their preaching. Apostle Jedidiah M. Grant, for example, declared that as far as he was concerned the time had come for “the sword of the almighty” to be “unsheathed,” not only “in word,” but also “in deed.”
...Thus it was that sometime during the winter of 1856-1857, during the height of the Reformation, Warren and a handful of Manti’s most influential Mormon leaders committed what appears to have been a ritualistic act of mosaic retribution.
On a cold winter night, Warren, the entire Manti bishopric, and a few others secreted themselves in some willows near a creek by which the road to Salt Lake City passed. Thomas Lewis, a young member of the Church from Ephraim (a town located seven miles north of Manti,) was being taken by night to the penitentiary in Salt Lake to serve a sentence for what appears to have been a sexual crime.
When Lewis and his escort reached the creek, Warren and the others stepped out of the willows, and pulling Lewis from his horse, they dragged him into the brush and emasculated him “in a brutal manner.” The prisoner’s escort seems to have been an accomplice (hence the night trip), and soon the entire group fled, leaving their victim lying on the snow-covered ground on what was described as “a bitter cold night.” Lewis laid there in a near senseless condition for forty-eight hours before being found by someone who took him in and saved his life.
Late in the spring, Joseph Young (Brigham’s brother,) and a few other members of the Church’s First Quorum of the Seventy, learned of the incident while visiting the central Utah area. Joseph was incensed and “entirely disapproved” of the action.... Upon his arrival at Church headquarters Joseph Young...talked with Brigham Young in his office. Undoubtedly in connection with Warren’s recent action, the subject of “eunuchs” came up. In a near rage, Joseph said that “he would rather die than to be made a Eunuch.” Brigham, much more placid than his brother at this point, simultaneously referred to the emasculation and paraphrased a statement made by Jesus by saying that “the day would Come when thousands would be made Eunuchs for them to be saved in the kingdom of God.”
Obviously referring to Lewis’ crime, they then discussed sexual sin, Brigham again emphasized his feeling that the time for such severe punishment was still in the future.... But then, making obvious reference to Warren, he said, “I will tell you that when a man is trying to do right & do[es] some thing that is not exactly in order I feel to sustain him,” and perhaps looking at Joseph, he authoritatively added “& and we all should.”
Within days of the above conversation, Brigham, who had in all probability heard of the incident firsthand from Warren before he heard it from his brother, wrote a letter to Warren and affirmed his friendship.  
Edit: Formatting and deleted a repeated phrase.
submitted by Everythinqman to exmormon