Even after the bat fell from grace, it kept its wings for ever more.
The Leatherpatch, Batman, the Dark Knight... whatever you may call him, he can be looked upon as a reversed messiah, that sees violence as a way to cleanse the world from evil. His parents were brutally killed in Crime Alley, like a travesty on the Immaculate Conception. Twice branded, born by both love and violence. In a situation where the Leatherpatch can choose between disarming with minimal contact; kill; or hurt, he will chose the latter. The only "love" in his life is filled with hate; his relationship to the Joker.
The Leatherpatch:
I'll send Robin home. I'll help the ermergency teams the best I can. I'll count
the dead one by one. I'll add them to the list, Joker. The list of all the
people I've murdered... by letting you live.
The Joker:
They could put me in a helicopter and fly me up into the air and line the
bodies head to toe on the ground in delightful geometric patterns like an
endless June Taylor dancers routine... and it would never be enough. No, I
don't keep count. But you do. And I love you for it.
The Leatherpatch:
The roar is fading... I hear voices... voices calling me a killer.. I wish I
were.
The Leatherpatch lived his long life fighting criminals. Violence and weapons was his way to "save" the world. After his death...
The Leatherpatch:
My timing wasn't precise enough. Clark heard. That was the first thing Robin
told me... when she dug me up.
and after being dug up on the third day to rise from the dead by Robin, he
becomes once again the warrior of the night, the darkest of knights:
Bruce Wayne is dead. The dark knight lives. And he has learned that there is a
lot more wrong with the world than crime.
Qoutes: © Frank Miller. 1986
The Leatherpatch, The Joker, Bruce Wayne; © DC comics.
©Sunnanvind Briling 1999 and forward (in the the improbable case of this
page surviving the
Y2K
)
To the main page.
To a fate-chosen page.