So this is the introduction. Sorta. It's the poem I felt the need to write that inspired me to write the story in the first place.

Before anyone says anything, no, the words are not meant to rhyme, the poem is meant more about expression and the way the main character of this fic sees the world than on the words themselves sounding pretty when you read it.

This fic is just an experiment on my part to integrate an OC character of mine into the Batman world. I make no promises about the story itself once we get started except to say that there will only be the one OC, and the rest will all be Batman characters.

Not everything will be based on the movies, in fact, a lot of this will come from the Batman: The Animated Series that I grew up on as a child. I have actually yet to see the third movie at all so…

The chapters will be short, and I don't know how often I will update.

This introduction is just the Poem, nothing else. I'll post the first chapter in a few days.

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.

Arkham Asylum

Rooms made of steel bars

Windows where they watch

Accusing eyes looking down

Like predators at prey

A bed bolted down

White and cold like snow

Chains to hold and trap

Wet with blood and tears

Jackets not for warmth

Held tight across pale skin

Arms bound to body

Stuck against hard ribs

Doctors in white coats

Apathetic and cruel

Not here to heal sick

But contain broken monsters

Needles glint in bright light

Filled with poison

Made to stop action

But not silence voices

Screams no one hears

Invisible claws and teeth

Whispers in the walls

A cage of the mind

There is a man with a coin

One side normal

One side not

A friend of Lady Chance

A woman with a rose

A lover of the plants

Framed by auburn locks

And vengeful green eyes

A scarecrow without a field

Muttering in the night

Tinkering with chemicals

Making men scream

A sphinx of constant riddles

Playing with puzzles

Asking strange questions

Never giving answers

A lady of feline nature

Who purrs when happy

A lover of shine and sparkle

Thieving and thriving

A penguin in black

With gentlemanly words

Speaking of guns and jewels

And dancing tunelessly

A blue man

With cold skin

An icy heart

Complaining of heat

A talking crocodile

With snapping jaws

Seeking the taste of flesh

Roaring in hunger

A sweet Harlequin

Pretty and blonde

Painted red and black

With giggles and grins

An every-laughing clown

Like a wild dog off chains

Made of purple and green

And scarred yellow smiles

Sometimes a bat

Hidden in shadows

With a rough voice

And harsh fists

And me

Shattered and broken

Hiding in darkness

Waiting for nothing

Eyes to watch

Invisible to theirs

Ears to hear secrets

But no voice to tell them

I watch

I listen

In my silence

I wait unseen

The_life_of_a_line_is_dull_and_grim.

And there we have it.

Done for now.

-Hathan