This DCverse is Maddening

"I KNEW IT!" The boy wheezed out with a heavy flush to his cheeks, Superman themed backpack barely hanging on with resilience even the Man of Steel would be envious of. Shaggy black hair stuff in a black tangled mop, sweat acting more akin to glue. "You were going to hunt Big Foot without me!"

"Rodney Thompson Tanners," It was a familiar tone, something all humans learned to dread and listen. And add that to the full name drop? Yeah, this kid was screwed. And judging from how his once proud accusatory stance was nowhere in sight, instead replaced by the picture perfect image of an ostrich ready to poke it's head in the sand. "My eyes must be fooling me for there's no way, my son, a boy, a child skipped school and walked home ALONE. You better have a good excuse ready."

"Uh-" Rodney trailed off under the absolute thunderous expression floating across Florence's face, eyes darting around the room to search for some aid but was met only with a stone cold mask. There was no way Albert would get anywhere in the middle of this family dispute. With a slump of his shoulder's, the boy collapsed in on himself. Casting his gaze down to the carpeted floor and throwing a rather iconic kick at the ground, only really needing to wear some overalls to complete the stereotypical chastised child.

"Bud," The man's shoulders slumped in kind, like a sail losing it's wind. Whether or not it was because there was an outsider in their midst, that was a far as he was willing to go in terms of punishment. Or maybe he was just tired and worried beyond belief. Kneeling down to meet the boy's eyes, he continued. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, the boy did exactly that. A look of shame plastered across his face but all it was met with was a soft and reassuring grin on his father's behalf.

"You can't be doing either." Florence started, a meaty hand on the boy's shoulder. Walls of flesh of blocking out the presence of the outsider, making it seem like it was only the two of them in that moment. "Skipping school is a bad habit to pick up. It always starts somewhere small like a day here and a day there but before you know it, you're in your senior year of high-school facing down a counselor telling you you won't be able to walk with your peers. I don't want you to have to go through that, it'll make you feel embarrassed and they'll make sure everyone knows just to make an example out of you. Do you understand?"

"…." Rodney nodded and spoke up just loud enough for a mosquito think someone was talking. "...Yes."

"Good but that's not all I'm going after you about." At this, the father wrapped his arms around his son in an embrace. That damn of worry seem to break, flooding the room for all to see. "You can't be walking the streets of Gotham alone like that again. It's never been a safe place but especially not now with fre-unwell people wandering around like their heroes. For now on, you NEED to call me if something like this happens. This even means if you feel you can't stay at school for another moment, your safety comes first. Do you understand me?"

"…Yes."

"Good." Florence held the boy at the arms length once me, his large back nearly blocking the sight. "Now go in the kitchen, we'll be out in a few minutes. Get started on however much homework you have."

With a nod, the boy slumped out of the room. Footsteps light but slightly dragging, completely lacking the energy they once had and could heard all the up until they reached down the hall before disappearing. Albert only watched on with a carefully constructed look of indifference, mind picking apart the scene with the same ferocity as starved beats. Fragments being gobbled up with sharp fangs, information and observations torn apart by lashing tendrils. Everything coming together to begin forming a completed puzzle of the man known as Florence Tanners. It wasn't everything yet, but he didn't suspect it would take long.

So far, the man seem to be a loving father. There would be more words said after the outsider, him, had already long gone. But judging from how the boy didn't flinch away from that touch, there didn't seem to be a fear of being beaten. No bruising that could be seen from so far away. But with how no DC author had been too shy to showcase abuse and the effects it had, an eye would reserved for it.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Florence said, turning and rising back to his full height. At least as close as he could get. He slightly hunched, bags already forming under his eyes as future seem to weigh heavy on him. Normally, Gotham teachers probably wouldn't give a damn about a student playing hooky but if those report cards were to be believed, that attitude would be completely flipped on it's head. "Do you have anymore questions for me?"

"No," Albert replied, feeling that his prescene was becoming more and more of burden to these people. An obstacle to both continuing their talk and the upcoming phone calls he was sure than man was going to have to sit through. Despite feeling bad for overstaying his welcome, he could grow some thicker skin for just a moment. This case wasn't going to solve itself after all. "But do you mind if I get the story from your son's perspective?"

"…." It was just a moment, a small instance where a flicker of heated annoyance danced across Florence's expression. It wasn't much but it was present. "Just a few minutes, that's all I can give you."

"That's all I need."

*****

Albert found the boy sitting at a small table pushed up against the far end of kitchen, his book-bag open and a somewhat neat stack of papers off to one side while he himself scribbled across a sheet before him.

"Rodney." Florence called out from behind him, his presence like a constant reminder of falling sand through an hourglass. "This bo-man wishes to ask you a few questions, try to be as honest as possible but if you don't feel comfortable answering do not worry. Mr. Nelson here won't pry."

"Of course." He would have to be oblivious not to hear the subtle warning there, it was direct and too the point. Only further highlighting the fact that he was in fact overstaying his welcome. Could he have just come back another day? Sure, but that would mean continuously forking over money to those hoodlums that blocked one of the most easily accessible entrances here. Fifty to a hundred bucks wasn't nearly enough to supplement anything more than two trips and that was if they weren't shameless enough to charge him leaving as well. He needed to be more conscious of his spending, especially if he didn't want to be back out on the streets with not even a dime to his name. "My name is Albert Nelson, I'm a-"

"Monster hunter!" It seemed this bit of time away had charged the boy's batteries right back up, the benefits of youth. "I knew it! But where's your harpoon?"

"Harpoon?"

Did this kid think he was hunting some whale? How in the world was he even suppose to carry a such a weapon? Walking around with a concealed gun is one thing but even the desensitized citizens of Gotham would reach out to the untrustworthy cops if he were to walk around with what essentially a throwing spear.

'But maybe he's not entirely wrong.' If there ever was a time where he was without his trusty handgun, then it would be wise to have a secondary weapon. Maybe not a harpoon or a sword but definitely something that could hidden. 'Like a knife.'

Such a thought made him pat around his pockets to check, other than the gun rest against his chest he couldn't seem to find the switchblade he'd pluck off a rather persistent addict.

"It seems I've left it at home." With such a great set up, he didn't see a reason not to play up the boy's remark. The boy in question eagerly looked around his back as though he was hiding a massive spear behind him or something before slumping in obvious disappointment.

"Then how do you expect to catch Big Foot?" Large brown eyes looked at the investigator's slim stature with some levels of doubt. "I-I don't think you can wrestle it, Tobby got bigger arms than you and he's only a year older than I am!"

Now Albert knew he needed to pack on some more weight on his bones but to have it so crudely pointed out by a child no less, was a real wake up call. Kids were often blunt, but they were honest where it counted. Ignoring the snort of laughter from behind him, he only grinned and took the statement with elegance befitting of someone of his maturity.

'That sounds more like Tobby's mom got a problem on her hands…'

Okay, maybe he wasn't all that mature. Who could honestly blame him.

"Just let me worry about that," He said instead, this was considered company time and showing professionalism even just before a kid still benefited him in the end. "But first, we have to find hi-er it. Would you be willing to tell me about that night?"

"If you say so…" Rodney did not look convinced but from how eagerly he turned away from the sheets of paper, his attention was at least grabbed. A true accomplishment given his age. "It was like this: I fell asleep one night and for some odd reason I woke up! I think it mighta been my superpowers awakening or something! Been drinking lots of milk, got good grades and cleaned my plate of veggies! But it would be kinda lame if I could only sense when Big Foot is around or something! There's only one of it…. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad! That way, I could capture it on camera! A good one! Not like those powered by a rotten, lumpy potato!"

Albert didn't need to look behind him to know Florence had face turned away from his son then, face probably red with shame at so blatantly lying to the boy like that. There would be a fall out from that, it might not seem all too big from the man perspective but for someone so young? Being told that by doing certain things would get them superpowers by someone they trusted?

'Yeah he's going to become a very, very rebellious teenager.'

"But anyway!" The youth continued, " I woke up and at first everything was a bit blurry but when I looked at my closet, a pair of large red, glowing eyes were looking down at me! There was a shadow there but I, I swear there was some long fur! It had to be Big Foot and everyone knows it likes to eat kids! And I ran out of my room as fast as possible after that! I told Dad we shoulda bought a harpoon! Now look what happened? We got Big Foot in our closets now!"

"When I woke up Dad, he went around the house and searched everywhere! But it seems Big Foot has picked up a few tricks! It might even know magic now or somethin! Maybe that's how it has gone completely untraceable all these years! Because when we emptied out my closet, nothing was there! But I know what I saw! The Sasquatch was there! I swear!"

"A magic Big Foot, huh?" The more he heard of this mysterious creature, the least sense it made. "That's new, you seem to know a lot about this…"

"Cryptid!" Rodney puffed out his chest in pride, obviously pleased to widen some ignorant fool's vocabulary. "A creature with no concrete evidence of existence but people say otherwise!"

"Yes, thank you." Albert nodded, "You seem to a lot about this...cryptid. What can you tell me about it?"

"Big Foot is a creature closely resembles a human, but covered completely in fur like an ape! It's said to be around six to ten feet tall, but don't let that size fool you! It can be incredibly stealth when it wants too! There are even some cases of people reporting it possessing a type of eye-shine when it gets dark! And most importantly, Big Foot smells awful. Like a skunk...with the bubble guts!"

The more he talked, the less sense everything made. First, that closet was nowhere near tall, wide or even deep enough for something of that size to even try squeezing in. Especially if the creature was truly it's astronomical ten foot size, nowhere in hell that was going to happen. But most important was that last little fact, the stench alone might've woke up even the dead.

"Did you smell anything like that?"

"Well...nooo. But maybe it learned some magic and somehow got rid of the smell?" Not even the cryptid obsessed kid could dodge that, but even now that stubborn look was plastered across his face. A childish reaction, but nothing about him screamed that he was lying or anything. It was pretty easy to tell with children.

'So a size changing, scent masking, teleporting Big Foot?' It was a ridiculous thought, but this was DC in the end. Anything was possible. 'But at-least it's a starting point.'

"Well Rodney," Albert nodded at the boy in thanks. "I must get ready to go. I will not take anymore of your or your dad's time. Thank you for answering all my questions, every little bit will help greatly."

"Next time, bring your harpoon!"

"Oh and one more thing," The investigator's eyes, zeroed in on the simple looking wood bead necklace dangling from the kid's neck. Even now while looking at it, he could feel a barely perceptible force trying to shift his gaze away. It was a familiar sensation. That little gremlin, Occult, hunched on his left shoulder like a gargoyle whispered secrets of the supernatural and profane. "That's a nice necklace you got there, keep it safe."

If possible, the boy's eyes grew even wider as his mouth dropped open making him seem like a rather cartoon-ish or maybe horrific if it was a just tad bit darker in the room. Questions danced behind those orbs but before Albert could be buried under a deluge of inquiries that would assuredly keep him there till the sun set, he made his quick departure. Taking extra care to slip past a confused looking Florence that didn't even try impeding his passage, it was true what he said before. It was better to leave now before the sunset, given how Gotham tended to be.

Stepping into the living room, he turned to the man with a relaxed smile on his face.

"Thank you, Florence for having me."

"Uh sure," The man replied, shaking off the combwebs. "I feel like I should apoligize for cutting your investigation short, I hope you can understand. It's nothing personal."

"I understand completely Mr. Florence. Family comes first and it seems like you'll be quite busy in the coming future."

"Yeah, don't I know it." He grimaced, probably already thinking of the yammering voices of overly pushy and concerned teachers. That's if the police aren't called. "Next time, we'll schedule a time when Rodney's off from school. He's already shown the length he's willing to go to stay involve in all this. Is this Saturday good for you?"

"Sounds like a plan," Albert held out his hand," Then I'll see you both this Saturday, please call if anything pops up."

***

"It seems I don't need to kick you out." The 'friendly' gardener snarked the exact moment Albert's sole scrapped against the ground floor. His body froze in place, locking in sequence until he became nothing more than a somewhat comical statue. Shaking his head, he put on a bright smile on, dragging up his social pants for one more conversation before becoming a useless lump for the night.

"I am glad things didn't have to turn out that way, I rather like not having bruises." That forced a snort from the still hunched over old man, but it was no laughing matter. Just looking at those heavily developed back muscles from what seemed like years of physical labor, was already more than enough for him not to want to tussle with this man. And given who he suspected the old man was, getting on his bad side would only impede the investigation going forward.

After that small interact, the gardener went back to well… gardening. Stacks of clay pots were placed off to the side, new flowers planted with smatterings of dirt on the sidewalk. Now, it wasn't something grand or unique. Trying to compare what this man was doing in comparison to the way Ivy maintained her plants, or her 'babies' as she liked to call them, wouldn't be a fair thing to do in the slightest. She had a more effortless air about her, while he had visible lines of sweat pooling through his shirt. Back heaving in effort and even the rather loud breathing that Listen's tendril picked up, taking a considerate effort on his part not to at least extend a hand. But he stopped himself before even opening his mouth.

'I feel like I'll just get bitten if I try to offer my help.' If the man was truly of the same breed as Darnell, he would rather spew poison than accept help from some random kid. Especially not one that apparently looked like a hoodlum. 'Is it the trench coat? Does it really make me look that suspicious?'

But despite the man's silent refusal of aid, Albert didn't move from his spot. He knew the game, there was more the man wanted to say. Questions to be asked. And who was he to refuse more clues?

"I saw the boy running up the stairs," The old man started, mumbling in an almost begrudging manner. "Everything alright up there?"

That was where he hesitated to answer. Giving out information on clients to potential suspects was never a wise thing to do, what if he let something slip and endangered them?

"Everything's fine." He said neutrally, feeling that much should be enough to ease any worries or suspicion. "You know how children can be but I don't believe I got your name last time."

"To me, you and Rodney are barely any different." Getting compared to a child was never an all too good feeling and even now, it slightly rankled at him to just sit there and take it. But the case came first, pride could sit out on this battlefield until a later date. And a few moments of silence later, his patience was rewarded. "The names Corwin, I'm the owner, handyman, gardener or really anyother role this place need. Pardon me for not getting up to shake your hand."

"It's perfectly fine, my name is Albert. It is very nice to meet you Mr. Corwin."

"Now you sound exactly like Rodney," Corwin snorted. "Just call me Corwin."

"Then Corwin," Now was his time to strike while the iron was hot, especially with the old man being talkative as he was. "Would I be able to ask you some questions?"

"Depends, is it about that Big Foot Rodney swears up and down was hiding in his closet?" It seemed the path through this conversation was truly to the child as a heat source to melt through the elderly man's frosty demeanor. "Because if it is, I already told him plenty of times before; there's no way Big Foot could fit in that closet…. It was originally suppose to be a small built in cupboard."

'I thought it looked a bit too small.'

"Let's start there then," It was always prudent to get all accounts of a situation, and maybe the landlord would have insights that his clients lacked. "What do you know about that? Just meeting him recently, I can tell he has a very...vivid imagination."

"Has he told you his Big Foot is magic? I swear that boy is one smart cookie but the moment those uh-creatures are mentioned, all bets are off. You know, there was a time he was actively hunting for a Chupe- Chupa- Chupacabret? Whatever it's called, he called it a goat sucker. Can you believe it? I don't even know if the local butcher has access to goat meat!"

'Chupacabra.' Biting back the correction, more thoughts whirled in his head. 'So this wasn't the first he's gone cryptid obsessed? I wonder why Florence hadn't mentioned that, could be due to embarrassment or is something else going on here?'

"But yeah, I've spent entire afternoons getting dragged along by that boy. I don't think he realizes that not everyone can match his energy. My knees pop when I stand and my back isn't getting much better." Despite Corwin's complaints, the smile could be heard in his voice. "I've heard it all and I've checked everywhere I can, even went back in the floor plans specifically for the off chance I put something like in. But nope, nothing. He even got me to check in the cellar for the creature, he don't go no pity for someone of my age. Those stairs are a killer on the knees."

"You built this place?" Like a mosquito diving in the moment the idiotic ball of blood still, proboscis poised to strike. He would undeserving of the titled investigator if this thread wasn't followed to it's conclusion.

"Yeah," The elderly man boasted. "I built this place about thirty odd years ago, back then the land was dirt cheap. Gotham was going through an economical boom at the time and the city needed to expand, so they sold out land permits like candy under the condition we built either a business or residence. My wife and I, we decided to build this place."

Albert stilled, Psychology telling him all he needed to know. From the way his tone dropped, to the way his shoulders tightened and even from how his hands halted in their activity. The clearing stilled, not even wind daring to break the man out of his memories.

"She wanted to make this place our home," Corwin continued unprompted, voice more akin to a murmur than anything else. Like he was more talking to himself than the only other person in the garden. "It was just suppose to be a simple house for our kids to run around in...but when she passed, I couldn't stand how quiet it had become. You know? So I finished up what she started and built an apartment around it. I wasn't in the best state of mind back then, so that's why I had to check to make sure I didn't stupidly put a hidden corridor somewhere. Something like that wouldn't be safe with children running around, they wouldn't be able to resist it you know? I don't want see them get hurt due to my carelessness. Dana wouldn't want that."

"I apologize for bringing up painful memories," While it had gotten him some more clues, dragging an obviously grieving man through piles of glass to do so did leave a sour taste in his mouth. An apology was due and he wouldn't stay to further pour salt in those wounds. "Thank you for telling-"

"Hey, old man!" A nasally male voice called out from behind them, tone clipped and annoyed beyond belief. Turning, just a single glance was enough for him to know he already didn't like this man in slightest."If you got time to shoot the shit with some street rat, then you can fix my goddamned furnace! Why the hell do I even pay rent if I have to keep coming to you to the fucking hunk of junk fixed!"

The irate tenant looked to be a rather short man in his mid-to-late thirties with a mop of greasy brown hair showing signs of thinning, skin pockmarked and pale. A wild, patchy beard freckled his neck. His clothes did nothing to flatter his rather rotund figure, a stained white shirt stretched to keep in the man's flesh but failed to keep his belly button from nearly blinding anyone unfortunate enough to look down. Wearing a pair of navy blue, or alteast what used to be blue but had probably faded from years of use, sweatpants that had a few unknown stains across it's surface.

"It looks like duty calls," Corwin slowly stood to his full height, completely overshadowing Albert like a giant did to a village of ignorant peasants. "It was nice talking to you Albert, now get on home. I don't need to tell you how dangerous it gets after dark here."