On Earth, 'twas 48 days before Christmas morn,
A new disaster struck each day, woes were born.
From black to dark gray, all colors did sway,
Gotham's hero in crisis, in shadows he'd stay.
Outfits in ruin, designers perplexed,
Computer programs halted, leaving us vexed.
Video game mechanics, a chaotic ballet,
'Tis up to you, dear folks, to light our way.
Anything goes, except (maybe) god modding. Basically, we're all trying to survive in the last days before Christmas, and every day a new crisis will surface. I'll be posting a new one of those daily.
Red wakes up and finds his previously perfectly color-coded closet is a mess. At first, he ignores this, but as he gets ready for another day he can't ignore it. The normally black early morning sky is the wrong color. Something is very, very wrong.