DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar
[discontinued, feel free to add on]
It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.
Just plain weird.
It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".
Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.
Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.
Gotham’s Ghosts are an open secret. Outside the city, people think it’s a metaphor referring to how old the city is and the near-endless history carved into every corner.
Gothamites know better though. Some call it a joke, most refuse to say it out loud, but all respect Gotham and her Ghosts. She is a city that cares for and protects her own. Those who are hers never truly leave and those who are not can feel her desire that they do.
Out-of-town-ers tend to trip more, feel paranoid, always catch the red light and rain, and plenty other little things in Gotham that show they are unwanted by the city. The not a joke is that these are acts of her Ghosts, those who once walked her streets now working together to carry out her more subtle desires. The Bats and Birds are believed by some to be more powerful Ghosts, her elites, permitted to carry out more tangible tasks.
Truth is, the only thing Gothamites have wrong is the Bats and Birds. They’re helped by the ghosts who make bullets stray just right and keep their footsteps quieter than is possible. They have Gotham’s blessing and her Ghosts’ assistance, for they are hers and protectors of her others, but they do not yet hear her decrees.
So, when one Bird leaves Gotham, she frets and her Ghosts grow restless. When the news comes that only his corpse will return, they grieve with their knights, both hoping and fearing that their lost bird will join them.
Instead, he wakes up, he wanders, he leaves again (and oh Gotham, how she weeps to see him go, knowing how it had gone before, raining tears down on her people and sending her ghosts to make all feel the dread, if only that one might notice the danger of her missing bird, the danger of tragedy striking a second time.) Then! Then he returns. He returns strong and angry with a ghost of his own festering within but he is home and Gotham beams and her Ghosts all swarm to see him safe.
They aid him in his efforts to rid her of the Mad Clown, then show the Bat their displeasure when he harms Her Bird to stop those attempts. The Dark Knight hears his footsteps and feels his weight heavier than before, adapting as much as he can but only finding relief when he finally abandons his anger at Her Bird. Her ghosts gather around him in the night once more, but they decide amongst themselves that they will leave again if need be and far more choose to remain with the Returned Bird, rather than the Dark Knight.
Between their assistance to Gotham's favored and little tricks along the street, the City's Ghosts have a place to which they retreat. A place to refresh themselves and gather their strength before returning to the larger city. They have a bar where they go, formed by Gotham herself, her own Afterlife for her own Ghosts so that they need never leave her. It is a passable imitation of what they lost when they chose to stay and serve their City.
Gotham's Afterlife is too closely connected to the living Gotham, though, and garners attention from some of the living. Gotham is too deeply entwined with her people and struggles to keep this place of pride a secret from them, so calls to the Realms with a request of a gatekeeper. The Realms respond and send her their favored, a ghost who lives and is experienced in guarding the space between Ghosts and the Living. He becomes Gotham's only living Ghost, a caretaker of her Afterlife, and a friend to the other Ghosts. He even brings a few more who have worked alongside him before (an entertainer and her lover, who happily takes a position as the guard, a young couple who love to travel and take on the job of leading the bats and birds where they need to go, a cook who ensures the Ghosts all replenish themselves properly and regularly, and a worker who keeps additional watch over the warehouse district that desperately needs it. There are even more who flit in and out and Gotham and her Ghosts take to them all quite quickly.)
It is with time that this Gatekeeper and his friends become Gothamites in their own rights. It is also with time that Gotham's Ghosts share that the spirit in her Returned Bird's chest is slowly weakening with time, speeding up slightly when around other ghosts. It is with pride that Gotham learns her own Ghosts can rid him of this foreign influence.
Of course, the only reasonable course of action is to lead the Returned Bird to her Afterlife. Perhaps time with more Ghosts will speed up the process. Gotham has the Ghosts with her Returned Bird start leading him toward her Afterlife, night after night until he finally finds it. He doesn't go in, but he returns to study it, night after night. Then, finally, with enough prompting by the Ghosts, he approaches. He steps through the door, willingly entering himself into their world, allowing Gotham's Ghosts to finally reveal themselves to him.
And oh, what a reveal it is, to welcome the Returned Bird home at last. For even as he stands wary, Gotham beams with pride, her Ghosts all looking to the figure in the doorway, only some with recognition but all with respect for the Living soul who has earned Gotham's pride and the right to see their Afterlife, let alone walk in.
-=o0o=-
From the moment he steps over the threshold, Jason knows he's been drugged. He feels strangely calm, despite the unexplainable knowledge that he is being watched by everyone in the bar, a strangely full bar for a place nobody has gone in or out of, and the pits have quieted in a way he has never known since coming back to life. They're not gone, but for once he's only hearing overlapping whispers instead of the usual constant screaming in his skull.
All these strange people, clearly locals in how they carry themselves, make him feel like this is a sort of homecoming. Unwilling to draw too much attention or behave too strangely, he quickly moves on from the doorway and makes his way to the bar against the wall, settling onto a stool.
"Welcome to the Afterlife, how may I-woah! ...okay, hi, new guy... I'll be with you in a moment." The bartender, one of the few people in the bar who didn't look like he was going to a 'decades in history' themed party, had stark white hair, pale skin, and bright green eyes. They were glowing slightly, too, and his lips had a concerning green tint to them.
"Take your time," Jason said, leaning against the bar with a nod that the bartender returned before darting through a door that seemed to lead into a kitchen. While he was gone, Jason took the chance to take another look around. The people here were varied, some looking like they'd just walked in off the street but most looking like they were stuck in time and had been for a century or more.
Jason hadn't seen anyone going in or out. They mostly looked like they'd been showing up and staying for a hundred years at least. Jason had tried reading Percy Jackson as a kid, and while it didn't hold his interest for long, he remembered some parts well enough not to like how this was looking.
"Here. Might not be what you were planning to order, but dude, you need it. I don't know what you've been up to but it left something rancid in your system." The bartender was back, skin flushed green and a crooked grin on his lips, doing nothing to hide the concern in his eyes. "I'm Phantom, by the way. Sorry about the wait."
"Call me Jason."
"Nice to meet you, Jason. You're gonna want to chug that, by the way. It's kinda gross, but what medicine tastes good?" Medicine? "Just trust me, it'll flush out all that grossness in your system. It'll make Gotham happy." The bartender, Danny, returned to tending the bar as if nothing was strange.
Jason had to get out of here. Fast.