Gotham is above all else a city of deep divisions. A city of haves and have-nots. You can step from any one part of the city into another and it's almost like walking right into a totally different town.
So, you have Diamond District, where the fat cats and corporate headquarters and the fancy yacht marina are. Not Wayne Manor, surprisingly, it's on the mainland. Otisburg in the North is the primary commercial/industrial area, but with lots of housing, and the Gotham branch of S.T.A.R. Labs. Old Gotham is sort of an island-within-an-island, where the river runs through, that's where all the brooding Gothic and art deco architecture can be found, and also City Hall, GCPD headquarters and the Gotham Cathedral. East End is the wrong side of the tracks, where the docks are, and Crime Alley, the Bowery, the Cauldron, Cape Carmine and just about any place you've seen Batman punching someone out in the comics. Chinatown in the South is really insular, at least as far as criminal operations go, there are already two Chinese, a Japanese and a Vietnamese gang and while they're always at each others' throats they're also quick to unite and stamp down any intrusion. And of course Blackgate Prison and Arkham Asylum are each on their own tiny islands. Gotham Island is almost more of a tightly-knit archipelago than a unitary landmass.
Then there's Burnley. Don't ask about the name, I have no idea. I assume it's named for a person. In any case, Burnley is the area just south of the reservoir and Robinson Park, consisting mostly of the world-class Gotham University and surrounding area. It's pretty much a college town, abstract sculpture, overpriced shops, decent nightlife and all that comes with these. Clean and safe streets, a person could come from any point to the country and get a four-year degree at Gotham U and never once be in danger, as long as they stuck to the clean and well-lit areas. And weren't randomly gassed with Smilex. It's an occupational hazard in Gotham, no matter where you live and work. So funny, you'll die laughing.
And yet, somehow if I try and introduce a certain clown to my dear friend Mr. Face-full-of-balefire, suddenly I'm the bad guy. Go figure.
Over the years, I've had a lot of hideouts, safehouses, a few bases and two warehouses to conduct my activities in, but my apartment in Burnley is special. First off, it was my first real home in Gotham, when I first got out of prison and was still a low man on the Falcone totem pole. Second, it's fairly convenient, no more than a fifteen minute walk to the library of that world class university, which is always good if you have a professional interest in literature, folk tales, mythology and magic. Third, it's fairly central to the city, most places are reasonably accessible from here, which kinda leads into four, I added a hidden tunnel to the basement connecting to the old abandoned subway tunnels, which connect in a few places to the current ones and make it a lot easier to get around unseen. Cavorting over the rooftops is fun and all, but it attracts attention, especially from the Bat Family.
Plus, it's an alright place. Kitchen's a little small, but I live alone and with an extra bedroom to stuff full of bookshelves.
Rent's a little high, but part of being a crime boss is rarely being low on liquidity. One of my first jobs after getting out, well, I should say James' first job, was breaking into the secure vault of First Gotham and leaving without removing a single thing that was there. Instead we used a handy gizmo called, well, a gismo. A matter-duplicator. With it, we were able to duplicate a little jewelry and some small samples of gold and silver, and later a bit of copper wire. Then we could duplicate the duplicates ad infinitum and worrying about the rent was no longer a thing. Just have to not be greedy and flood the market is all, or be too regular.
We also ran up thirty odd copies of everything organized into caches and carefully buried or tucked them away in obscure corners of the city. Hate to have to go out for fresh samples all over again just because we got arrested and our things taken.
Funny, you get your name out there as a supervillain, everyone starts talking about how you're wasting your powers and half the stuff they talk about you doing, you already did. They just aren't in any position to know or get that. Though, you can find some really interesting ideas online if you look. Some I gleefully steal. Others are just unworkable because the people coming up with them have no idea of the limitations I operate under.
Libriomancy 101, it's magic. I am technically a third or fourth rate sorcerer, who can achieve certain spell-like effects by utilizing shared belief/imagination in a fictional artifact. It's my only magic trick, but I quite like it, even if in some ways it kind of makes me the joke of the supernatural community. Let me explain. If Doctor Fate, being powered by a Lord of Order wants to fly, he wills it and it is so. If Zatanna wants to fly, she'd step on a carpet or a manhole cover and, speaking backwards, command it to lift her into the air. Or, I don't know, tell her shoes they have wings or something. Point is, she'd need a gimmick and probably an outside object to do what Fate could by will alone. Now look at me. If I wanted to fly, I'd go for a classic, J. M. Barrie's Peter Pan. I'd pull out the book, flip to the appropriate page and read. I'd start a bit ahead of the moment I wanted and immerse myself in the story, I need to really be able to picture the scene, then I reach into the book, into the temporary space created by my imagination and pull out the fairy dust, apply and think happy thoughts. Nevermind in the book Peter admits the happy thoughts part was a joke, most people know the story from the stage or film and the dust will work off pure belief energy. The concentrated belief of everyone who knows the story is what's mostly fueling the magic, with my own magic letting me create that space and pin that belief into shape.
All that, to get an approximation of what Fate or Z could do in like a second under their own power. Every step you add beyond that "will = effect" thing that gods and powerful magical beings do is one more thing that can go wrong. Want to stop Zatanna from casting? Don't let her speak. Want to stop me? Keep me away from books, don't let me focus, don't give me time. I can do some things quicker and easier than others, just from practice and familiarity with the book, but there are limits. John once said my magic is like tiny glass figurines full of tiny water droplets and air pockets. Impossibly beautiful and complex for someone of my apparent skill, and just as easily destroyed by anyone with real power or superior knowledge of magic.
Lucky for us, wizards are a little thin on the ground in Gotham County.
So, while from the outside it looks like I'm pulling magic items from books, the truth is I'm creating belief-based spells from books. If I pull an ordinary sword or gun out, it's actually a "hurting-possibly-killing-people" spell that just looks and acts like a normal sword or gun. It's an important distinction to make, at least when dealing with other mages or Superman. It also means I can't just pull apart any sci-fi gizmos I get, because even if there are detailed schematics that the inside would match, ultimately it's all window-dressing for a magic spell that behaves like an artifact in a book.
It's magic. I can't explain shit, no matter how much I'd love it if someone could dissect and duplicate these things.
Another aspect of things, the best and worst, is that anything I create using libriomancy acts as it does in the story, occasionally with interesting results. For instance, absolutely nothing bad ever happens in the Hobbit as a result of Bilbo's magic invisibility ring, but millions of people around the world understand it to be the One Ring, so if I pulled the ring from the Hobbit it would still have those qualities, and would, say, let one somewhat deranged fourth-rate wizard wipe the floor with the Justice League until the third act twist. Not that I'm talking from experience or anything. A-hem. Moving on, fanon can trump canon if it's widely believed enough, hence why I need to think happy thoughts when using my favorite flight magic.
Two last major downsides. First is, there are some things no amount of belief will let a minor wizard accomplish, like major feats of reality-warping or time travel. Or raising the dead, if I could do that I might just give Brucie his parents back and spare my poor much-abused jawbone. For everyone who ever wonders why I never made a wishing ring and became king of everything, I actually can't. Likewise, there's an upper limit to how many spells I can maintain at once, but it's over forty so as long as I'm careful I can give magic out or sell it. Second is char, a sort of damage caused by magical overload. Books get singed around the edges, or seems entirely flambeed. Only mages can see it, and while it can slowly get better over time, it's not impossible to render a given book unusable for decades, and it spreads to a slightly lesser extent to all copies. This forces me to treat every book as a finite resource.
Oh, I also can't create intelligence. Any attempt to bring over intelligent life or AI renders the subject irrevocably insane. I can do animals and some forms of embryonic life, but the transition is still incredibly traumatic and leaves some nasty aftereffects. Not something to be done casually.
Anyways, those are the cliff notes and the reason my apartment is crammed full of books. Some other mages might sneer, but let 'em. I read The Magic Goes Away so if I ever get sick enough of it I can kick over the gameboard. Hmm... one does wonder what would happen if a Warlock's Wheel was planted in Faerie or Hell. Inquiring minds want to know!
....
I really should sit down and get some reading done. Catch up on what's new, refresh my old arsenal and get an idea what's still serviceable, heck just enjoy myself with the act of reading. But I can't right now, because I have other things I need to check up on. So after a quick take-out supper with the boys, and arranging for Freddie to meet me outside the Iceberg Lounge at nine, I suit up.
Well, I've never had a 'costume' before. My clothing tastes run to the practical, James' to the formal. Mostly I grabbed a Doctor Who book and pulled out a long brown trench coat. I like the coat, it's pockets are bigger on the inside.
Loading up, Grimm Brothers, Children's Tales from Around the World, and Myths and Folktales of Ireland, my standard catch-alls. Towers of Midnight and Metamorphosis for firepower, Half-Blood Prince is another great general use book. Foundation and Empire? Why not, I've got pocket space. Ptolemy's Gate, yes. Artemis Fowl, hell yes. Arabian Nights and Days, sure. That... should probably do me just fine for an evening constitutional. Still, two more standard precautions. First a Dresden Files book to pinch Harry's force rings, well, just one. The idea is it saves up a little energy from each time I swing my arm, to be released at will as a KE blast. Give it a few months and even normal walking and running should give a megajoule, and they're already charged a fair bit by Harry, enough to total a car. And naturally two of my new books, just in case I wind up waiting around at some point.
Number two is my favored cloak of darkness. It appears many times in Irish folklore and fairy tales, half the time as a wish-granting thing, but in a few tales it's a cloak of invisibility that also lets the wearer "run faster than any wind." Now, in real life that'd be something like 250 mph, but in the minds of children and people who read fairy tales, more like 100, maybe 120 mph on a good day. No matter, it beats traffic, and I feel no need to try and race the Flash. I just have to be really careful about situational awareness while practicing my amateur super-speed parkour. Speaking of, I take a minute and grab the Hand of Glory off the shelves of Borgin and Burkes, Chamber of Secrets. One candle that won't give away invisible lurkers, priceless if you spend any amount of time lurking invisibly in the dark. Or running at highway speeds through dark tunnels. Don't ask me why the candle is never blown out by speed, it's magic.
Alright, tunnels will get me as far as Walker's Brook Drive, three blocks overground to the freezer, then about a mile and a half to the bridge into East End. Swing by the clinic, poke my head in the mission, and I should have just enough time to meet Freddie again if I hustle. Mental map all laid out, assuming there weren't any massive construction projects while I was locked away.
My apartment suddenly looks terribly warm and inviting when I'm ready to leave. My own comfy bed, some good books, an internet connection. All the ingredients of a good night in, all things I've missed dearly the last two years. Ah well. The woods are snowy, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep... etc.
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Sheesh, I had to do the exposition for anyone who doesn't know how libriomancy works, but it feels so clunky still.
A Warlock's Wheel, the Magic Goes Away, is a copper disk with two spells on it. One makes the wheel spin, and continually accelerates it's spinning, the other reinforces it to the point of being nearly indestructible. Both spells work, as all magic in-setting, by absorbing ambient mana, and they can drain all magic from an area pretty quickly. The biggest ones can operate on a national scale. I have no idea if they could injure Faerie or Hell, though the Manticore incident says "maybe." Seems likely that it'd seriously brass off the residents though.
The gismo, A for Anything, is from a dystopian slave society ruled by those fortunate enough to own a gismo, it is such an efficacious matter-duplicator that only labor could ever have value where hundreds of gismos exist. And maybe not so much that, as people are duplicated with the gismo too.