Star City- Heroes of Tomorrow IC

"Say the Word," by Christy Carlson Romano. (Felicity/Vixen/Rose)

Lunaramblings said:

"Oh! Ok... I thought maybe there was a little surprise brewing... ya know. But this works too! We will have to sit down and work on it. Maybe over some of the cookies Ma Hunkle makes? She still send those in with John? Or is Sara too old for a babysitter these days?"

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"Cookies, yes," Felicity allowed with a faint smile, putting her phone away. She had to message J'onn, too, but she wasn't sure which email address J'onn remembered to check most often. Probably the one at the Denver PD, but then again, The Nihon Keizai Shimbun-- "Bun in the oven," she continued, "no." A faint, slightly pained smile touched the corner of her lips, though it was a deeper pain than what she let through the surface. "You remember how hard it was to get Ollie to open up and let me be an actual part of his life after we 'lost' Ray for awhile. Having kids in this life, it just never was going to be part of the equation."

Lunaramblings said:

"Heh. Elderly Jesus here is just grumpy. Like someone pissed in his Metamucil." Dick grins widely. "But we uh... we brought an old friend. Think we should get him in before we make with the introductions though."

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Felicity squinted. "That sounds. Troubling. Should I get Rex to prep a medbed? ...or one of the detention cells in the sub-basement?"

Lunaramblings said:

Bruce Wayne looks irritably at his younger friend. "I might be getting old, but my hearing is fine. Watch it." The anger quickly fades from his eyes and is replaced with a tenderness that is reserved for very few. "Besides, Metamucil always tastes like piss."

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Mari chuckled wryly. "My grandfather says the orange stuff isn't bad once you get used to it. But it's like the guy with limburger stuck to his nose, everything stinks? As pissy as you always are, everything must taste like piss."

Felicity scrunched her face up. "Seriously, Mari, ew."

Lunaramblings said:

"You think he's bad, you should try spending the weekend camping with Mike Mitchell and Buddy Baker. Talk about crazy about the environment..."

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Mari rolled her eyes. "Okay. Well. Buddy is salt of The Earth, one of the best guys I've ever met, if he wasn't married with a gorgeous family... but oh my God, do not get me started on B'wana Beast. Walking talking icon of racism and cultural appropriation, and I'm not convinced those chimeras he makes out of other animals is all that good for them, I've been a chimera, I'm one right now, it doesn't feel awesome."

Lunaramblings said:

Steph let go of her and stepped back, crouching to get on eye level with the carrier. "Sorry Capt. Jack. Didn't mean to tussle you too bad. I don't tend to get on too well with cat, but I am sure you can be an exception." She stands and pulls a phone from her pocket. "Crab Rangoon Pizza... can't say I have ever had that. But hey, first time for everything. Text yourself, when you're ready, call me."

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Rose smiled softly and wearily. "There was this great pizzeria in Keystone just down the street from our place--" She paused, and her face looked... fractured for a moment, but she managed, by hook or by crook, to recover, and sent herself a text using Steph's phone. A certain series of beeps resounded from Rose's watch, signifying its arrival. "But. Yeah. 'Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me.' You got it."

Lunaramblings said:

She hugs her again, leaning in close and whispering as softly as possible, while carefully turning her face toward Rose's neck so as to foil any would be lip readers. "I uh. I lost my dad a couple years ago. Turf war in Gotham. Ended up coming up on the wrong side of Penguin, tried to double cross him. It's how I got into... this. Anyway, I guess I am just trying to say, I have been in a place a lot like where you are now. The three of us have. And if you ever need to talk, I am here. Or if you ever just want to cause some trouble and take a spin in a certain flying-mammalian-themed vehicle... well that can be arranged." She steps back with a small smile and waits for her phone.

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There was a quiet, unexpected intimacy to that whisper, and ordinarily Rose would be-- unnerved-- by such proximity so early in the conversation. But she had just been-- so very very cut off from everything and everyone. And it was just such a relief. Grinning faintly, she handed the phone back.

"Right then. I'm sorry for your-- but yeah. It's-- it's a date."

Captain Jack made a very resigned noise and settled down in a heap in a corner of the carrier, like he'd given up all hope of ever getting out again.

Rose nodded quietly. "Yeah. Same, Captain. Same. Can-- can we go inside?"

"We probably should," Felicity nodded, glancing warily at the vehicle, wondering as to the nature of this "old friend." Was it Malcolm? Please God let it not be Malcolm. "For more reasons than one."

"Either learn to endure or hire a bodyguard." (Artemis)

She had seen him fight gods-- well, one particularly grumpy folklore swamp monster-- she knew that this was a game to him. And she didn't usually like-- games. But this-- this was a good game.

They weren't keeping score but they were having fun pretending but for every punch he pulled she made him work for every one he landed, she ached all over from where he'd tagged her but there was a grin on her lips and sweat beading like raindrops on her skin and her blood-ox was up...

...at one point when she bounced back she didn't just block thrust parry yaw roll pitch like before, this time she went for broke, she committed-- she jumped straight up in front of him, fired both feet at his chest, center mass, and springboarded off of him as hard as she might when jumping from one rooftop to the next.

She fell basically straight back down but her hands were already up over under behind her head, planting on the mat not for a back handspring but to shove her back up to her feet, ready to--

--oh, hey down there.

A giddy thrill wobbled her grin. She didn't think for one instant that she'd really hurt him, but taking the wind out of his sails, now that, that was something to write home about.

TertiusHuman said:

One particular kick caught him unawares though, the first time during their session, it his him square on the heart and threw him backwards. He landed with a very ungraceful thud, his heart giving a little stutter at the sudden interruption of its natural rhythm. He lay there, gazing up at the ceiling, swallowing a few times and wondering if this could end him. But two heartbeats later, his sync was back and he could almost feel the juice rushing to his chest to fix him up.

Flipping his legs back, he rolled backwards and on to his feet, he nodded at Artemis, a nod that meant 'I'm fine, let's roll,'. This time he did what he knew she may not expect, as he came within range, he slipped into a Jeet Kune Do stance, not mirorring her, but drawing from memories of studies in his Army days.

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She arched an eyebrow. There was something-- sweet about that, calling back her martial art of choice. Like remembering her favorite song, or what color flower she liked. Why was that sweet? Feelings were weird. But it still seemed... sweet.

"Are you," she wondered, just a liiiiittle out of breath, this was the first time she'd actually spoken since C'mere, "asking me to dance?"

But instead of answering him in kind with a JKD stance of her own, she kept him guessing, played hard to get, she went krav maga.

Given the Israeli military martial art's emphasis on ending a fight as quickly and efficiently as possible, her message was perhaps clear: let's wrap this up. Let's finish this.

"Fine. I'll lead."

She drove forward, one palm darting out in an attempt to shove Denvers' face, throw him off-balance maybe, maybe obscure his vision for just a second-- and even as she did that, she fired the heel of her other hand for his solar plexus.

She'd already disrupted his cardiac plexus with that double-barreled shotgun of a kick, if that had taken the wind out of his sails this should throw him way The Hell off course.

...that is, of course, if she landed it.

"Cookies, yes," Felicity allowed with a faint smile, putting her phone away. She had to message J'onn, too, but she wasn't sure which email address J'onn remembered to check most often. Probably the one at the Denver PD, but then again, The Nihon Keizai Shimbun-- "Bun in the oven," she continued, "no." A faint, slightly pained smile touched the corner of her lips, though it was a deeper pain than what she let through the surface. "You remember how hard it was to get Ollie to open up and let me be an actual part of his life after we 'lost' Ray for awhile. Having kids in this life, it just never was going to be part of the equation."

Cisco nodded. He remembered how hard things were for a while. When Ray had disappeared, and Roy had gone off on the other side of the world... things were tricky. Different. He rolled his wrists, stretching his hands. He could feel the slight tingle of the energy that he had become capable of manipulating. He could feel the vibration of the movement around him. Yeah, he remembered different.

Felicity squinted. "That sounds. Troubling. Should I get Rex to prep a medbed? ...or one of the detention cells in the sub-basement?"

Dick smiled thinly. "One of ours. He's fine, but we took him from Nyssa's people. Not going to take her long to figure he's coming this way. But he insisted."

Just as Dick fnished speaking the back door of one of the vehicles popped open and tallish man steps out. His hair is pulled back into a pony tail and his beard, not a fake one like others, is a bit unruly. But otherwise he appears in good health. Hlooks about nervously before moving to stand beside Bruce.

Mari chuckled wryly. "My grandfather says the orange stuff isn't bad once you get used to it. But it's like the guy with limburger stuck to his nose, everything stinks? As pissy as you always are, everything must taste like piss."

Felicity scrunched her face up. "Seriously, Mari, ew."

Bruce doesn't respond but tries to hide the small smile that is starting at the corner of his lips.

Mari rolled her eyes. "Okay. Well. Buddy is salt of The Earth, one of the best guys I've ever met, if he wasn't married with a gorgeous family... but oh my God, do not get me started on B'wana Beast. Walking talking icon of racism and cultural appropriation, and I'm not convinced those chimeras he makes out of other animals is all that good for them, I've been a chimera, I'm one right now, it doesn't feel awesome."



Rose smiled softly and wearily. "There was this great pizzeria in Keystone just down the street from our place--" She paused, and her face looked... fractured for a moment, but she managed, by hook or by crook, to recover, and sent herself a text using Steph's phone. A certain series of beeps resounded from Rose's watch, signifying its arrival. "But. Yeah. 'Call me, beep me, if you wanna reach me.' You got it."

There was a quiet, unexpected intimacy to that whisper, and ordinarily Rose would be-- unnerved-- by such proximity so early in the conversation. But she had just been-- so very very cut off from everything and everyone. And it was just such a relief. Grinning faintly, she handed the phone back.

"Right then. I'm sorry for your-- but yeah. It's-- it's a date."

Captain Jack made a very resigned noise and settled down in a heap in a corner of the carrier, like he'd given up all hope of ever getting out again.

Rose nodded quietly. "Yeah. Same, Captain. Same. Can-- can we go inside?"

"We probably should," Felicity nodded, glancing warily at the vehicle, wondering as to the nature of this "old friend." Was it Malcolm? Please God let it not be Malcolm. "For more reasons than one."

Steph accepts the phone and smiles at the girl. "Tell you what, it sounds like we will have a lot of fun."

He was not really surprised when she didn't answer the stance, but he did feel this strange little bada-dump-lump stutter in his rapid heart beat as she spoke to him. Perhaps only because it wasn't said in that signature snarl of her's, nor the hard-bitten bussiness-like tone she used. But it sounded more like the woman inside, the one underneath all the armor.

Then she came at him, the palm thrust to his face had no speed, that made it a feint, that meant the threat was aimed at his already-hit chest. He brushed at the palm aimed for his face, twisted slightly to cause the blow to glance off of him. Shoved her away by her waist and went at her with a jumping knee, courtesy of Muay Thai and that alone would have been a final move, but he knew her speed and if she bent over his foot was prepared to lash out at her chin if left unprotected, if she dodged his leading foot could stamp down at her and his left foot kick through if dodged that way.

They sat at the table in the conference room, devoid of their makeup and their disguises.

"Okay. So, start from the beginning." Oliver glances between Bruce, Dick, and Ted.

Ted Kord clears his throat and begins to speak. "First, Oliver, I am so proud of you. I know Robert and Moira would be as well. I am so sorry to hear about your mother. She was a dear friend." Ted takes a deep breath and begins.

"As you know Malcolm trained with The league. While he was there there were two other Americans. Myself and Bruce. The three of us held an immediate kinship. And our mutual losses lead us to a bond of sorts. Unfortunately, Malcolm took much more to the ravings of Ra's. Bruce and I, we were there as a means to an end. We both sought a greater epiphany. We wanted to use our skills to protect the world. This was the original charter of The League. To protect all of humanity by doing what was needed. Anyway. I was known as al'Sin'Awi, The Alchemist. I taught many of Ra's men how to use science as a weapon. I thought my debt was paid. I put that time behind me. I came back to the US and I began my greater work. I became a vigilante. I worked to make things better."

Ted shifts, clearly uncomfortable. "Then I received a message from Malcolm. A call to come to Starling. He called on our bond, and begged me to come and help him. I did. But what I didn't know was that he also owed a debt. In return for his return to life, he gave them me. I was attacked by a being empowered by an ancient evil. Called Eclipso. I fought as best I could, but I was no match. Not unprepared. Something happened. The Scarab. The one that had been my mentors, it... it saved me. It awoke. It repelled the attacks of Eclipso and destroyed the host. However, the resulting blast took out half the floor of the building. My heart stopped. And from what I understand, the Scarab left. It sought a new home. A new bearer. And while it never worked for me as it had my mentor, I believe that it protected me because of some sort of bond it had to Dan. After the destruction, members of the League took me. Faked my death. And I was brought to Santa Prisca. I was promised by Ra's that if I worked out the kinks in a formula that had originally been produced years ago by Wayne Industries, that I would be given a new life. I did so. I had no choice. Unfortunately, this Venom, it would kill all but one of the subjects. Whether it was something in his DNA, or his will it self that let him live I am still not sure. But he was renamed "Bane" and taken before I could continue my studies."

"I was sure Ra's would let me go. He has always been a man of his word. But instead he kept me. Nyssa, his daughter had been overseeing the project. She refused to release me until I gave her a serum that could empower an army. My theories said it should have been possible, but somehow, it didn't every test failed. So I was there for the last decade." Ted reaches with a shaking hand and lifts the tumbler of water to his lips. "That's my story Oliver."

You didn't tell him. Why?" Oliver glares at Bruce.

"Figured you would want to be the one to explain it all."

"I see. Ted, the League is not as you remember it. The Ra's al'Ghul you knew, is dead. About two years after you were first taken, Ra's sought a replacement. He decided Nyssa was not worthy. The Lazarus Pits had begun to stop working. His time was coming to an end. I faced Ra's al'Ghul in a duel. To protect my city. I lost. He drove his blade through my chest and I should have died. But I didn't. I returned. And after a series of events, Ra's asked me to take his place. I refused. So he attacked Starling. Tried to take everything that I loved. Everything that had meaning to me, he tried to take. In the end, he took one of things that meant the most. He took my sister. She is the new Ra's al'Ghul. Nyssa couldn't accept this and she took members that are loyal to her. My sister has rebuilt the league. But Nyssa works against her. Sooner or later it will turn into an all out war."

"That's why she wanted the serum so desperately. Oliver I am sorry for your losses. So there are now two leagues? One was bad enough."

"Actually, Thea, Oliver's sister, she has done a lot of good. She has brought the league back to what it was founded on. Protecting mankind. They are no longer a league of murderers, but a league of honorable warriors fighting to make the world a truly better place. She refers to this new league as The Remnant."

"Dick, you seem to know an awful lot about this."

Dick turns slightly pink as he tries to look anywhere but at Oliver.

"How long?"

Dick continues his attempt to count the grains in the wooden table.

"Dick... I want to know. How long have you been seeing her?"

Dick sighs heavily. "A couple years off and on. Whenever she makes it to the US we meet up. You have to understand, Oliver, I..."

"I am happy for you. And her. If you two make each other happy, then so be it. But if you hurt her, I will forget the oath that I took. " The hardness of Oliver's eyes clearly conveys his seriousness. His eyes never leave Dick as he speaks.

"Ted. Thank you for the information. You will have to decide what you want to do from here. If you are going to become Ted Kord again, or something else. Either way, your welcome to stay here at the Brownstone until your ready. If you'll excuse me, I have some things to think about." Oliver stands up and leaves without waiting for an answer.

"At least he didn't shoot you. Yet." Bruce pats Dick on the shoulder.

"So, that's how you found me. From Thea. It's funny. I remember when they were both kids. Now one of them is a world renowned vigilante and the other is the leader of one of the most dangerous groups in the world."

"Take You Home," by Scars on 45. (Rose/Vixen)

The quarters available to The Justice Society weren't bad.

Basically they were studio apartments, they were meant as waystations rather than long-term living solutions, a place to crash between a shift as a hero and a shift as an alter ego. Still, they were nice studio apartments, as those things went.

Rose stood quietly in the middle of the largely-undecorated space, breathing it in, and watching Captain Jack.

Jack, meanwhile, roved about the place, glad to be out of the carrier but still meyowling angrily, not liking this change of space at all. Then he wandered over to the litter tray that Rex had provided off in one corner-- Felicity had thoughtfully called ahead and asked --chuffing sounds ensued as sand was dug, and then he squished himself under a bureau to hide out of protest.

"Right there with you, buddy," Rose agreed with him.

Standing at the doorway, Mari watched Rose, in turn, with literally raptorial eyes. She knew what PTSD was like, she still had twinges of it from time to time, despite ten years of therapy and heroic catharsis-- she was watching for it in Rose. So far it was nothing worse than grieving, but one couldn't be too careful.

"You gonna be okay, get some rest?" Mari wondered.

Rose nodded quietly, shrugged out of her jacket, and didn't even bother climbing under the covers, just collapsed on the bed.

Mari pressed her lips together, and nodded. "Okay. Sounds like a plan. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchens for a few. Suffering a major pescatarian jones until I can shrug this osprey template."

Rose waved to her with her watch hand to acknowledge this, but she was face down in a pillow and didn't make another sound.

Mari withdrew quietly, and closed the door with a click.

Rose rolled onto her side and closed her eyes and fell asleep almost before she took her next breath.

It didn't feel like more than five minutes had passed before she awoke again, her eyelids fluttering slightly.


Pale Keystone City sunlight wafted in through the window, and he was warm beside her, skin against skin, and in that moment, all was right with the world. All the troubles of a thousand parallel worlds could roll off her back because of moments like that.


But moments pass. It's what they do.

And then he sat up, and he gazed out through the bedroom windows, staring into nowhere as behind his eyes he carried out dozens of operations per minute.

Stirring as he had done, she sat up beside him and kissed his shoulder, gazing at him quietly. "What's up? Having one of those boy-genius post-coital epiphanies?"


He didn't answer immediately, just sat there gazing away.

And then he replied: "I wish you hadn't left that room."

This puzzled her, and she turned his head to look at her properly. "What room? I don't know what you're--"


But he met her gaze with his, and that-- gave her pause.


Those ever-so-thoughtful, ever-so-compassionate boy genius eyes gazed at her with cold recrimination. "I wish you hadn't left that room. If we'd stayed together, faced it together-- if you'd Dialed something sooner--"

"He did something to me," she shook her head, frowning at him. "He-- hypnotized me. Or something. I never-- I don't-- I couldn't help it."

"You beat it," he reminded her. "You fought it off. Something else I wish you'd done sooner. I died saving the world like a superhero. But I didn't have to die. We could have just saved the world. But now I'm dead and the world still needs saving."

She stared at him, uncomprehendingly, and he pushed up from the bed to stalk away.

Her heart beat cold in her chest as the warm illusion of the moment started to dissipate-- awareness of the present started to seep in around the edges of this memory of the past.


"I wish you'd stayed with me," Robby told her.

"We were a team. We were partners. Splitting up is what killed us."

"Splitting up is what killed me."

"Where the Hell did you go?"

And he walked away, and he left her there in the bed, and all of a sudden the warmth he'd shared with her evaporated.

And she woke up, staring up at the ceiling of her quarters in The Brownstone, her little safehouse away from home, and she had never felt colder or more alone.

She sat up, and there were tears on her face where she thought she'd cried out every drop of moisture in her body.

"Fuck this," she mumbled.

And she stood up, and she stalked out of the room and left Jack alone to sulk under the bureau.

ChasNicollette said:

The lids on Jaime's eyes sank shut...

And then a bolt from the blue descended, thudding to the alley floor with sufficient speed and force that the concrete buckled ever-so-slightly beneath it.

The poor, battered creature that Jaime had been trying to save stopped screaming, all of a sudden. Even as traumatized as she was, one look at this being-- this angelic creature-- caused her to stop for an instant-- and wonder that she might be saved.

Senses that could read a fortune cookie from orbit or hear two snowflakes smash together took one sweep of Jaime, and she made a noise of deep concern. She had only moments. Fortunately, working quickly was right in her job description.

Glancing up at the panicked woman, she nodded gently to her.

"Don't be afraid," she prompted, and she really did sound like an angel when she said that.

"I have to see to this man's injuries," she noted, "but help is on the way. I'll alert 911 from the air. Tell them what happened here."

Ordinarily, such words would be paltry assurances, as deeply horrified as the woman had felt.

But coming from her, from her, they were Gospel.

And she nodded, furtively, worriedly, biting her lip, but she did not scream again.

And thus The Supergirl, The Girl of Steel, did gather the red-stained Blue Beetle up in her arms and vanish with him in a skyward blur of blue and red and gold.

********​

He found himself wandering in the ancient egyptian desert, during a sandstorm. He cried out for Khaji Da, begging the Scarab to heal him, to help him. But it was not Khaji who answered. The voice of the strange man called from everywhere in the storm, his voice echoing back from the sandwall.

"Why do you wait for others to heal you, Jaime? Why not do it yourself? Or do you WANT to die there in that filthy alley way, while some poor mortal creature watches? Why not DO something?"

Jaime felt total confusion, as well as whooseyness. "But...Khaji does everything."

The voice laughed. "Then why would he ever need you in the first place?"

"I don't understand...who are you!?"

The voice spoke once more, as the red desert scape began to blur and fade.

"If you were not meant to be the Blue Beetle, Jaime Reyes...you would not be so."...

Jaime opened his eyes, and found himself in a place with white, crystalline walls, lit with pale, crystalline light. for a moment, he wonder if this was Heaven.

But then the pain in his side twinged, and, yeah, wasn't Heaven supposed to be mostly pain-free?

"Try not to move yet," Supergirl murmured from beside him with a wince, where a number of golden robots levitated around her performing various tasks, adjusting controls on ridiculously advanced displays, doing maintenance on machines that looked like something out of Oz.

"I had to act quickly, and the Kryptonian regeneration matrix isn't really designed to work on humans, the robots and I had to adjust the settings as on the fly. You're probably going to be sore for awhile, but the scarring should be minimal."

She smiled a wry little smile in the corner of her mouth, crossed her arms over her stomach. "I, ah, heard you might be looking for me? Hell of a way to get my attention."

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"Honestly, I didn't think I would wake after that one. But it is good to meet you. And thank you for saving my life. Can I use your computer when I'm feeling better?" Jaime asked the vision of perfect feminine beauty.

"Visions," by Jennifer Knapp. (Rose)

It was the helicopter pad that caught Rose off-guard most of all.

There hadn't been a helicopter pad at the last apartment building she'd lived in. In fact, she couldn't think of many buildings she had been in that would have had one.

Halo, probably.

Maybe a hospital or two.

But never a place she'd lived.

She stood and stared at it for a moment.

And then walked to near the edge of The Brownstone's roof, and sat down quietly like she'd used to do at the apartment building back in Keystone.

This place wasn't near a river, and Star City's skyline was kind of generic, like every city she'd ever seen on TV, but a roof was a roof.

She hugged herself quietly, and cued up a Spotify playlist on her phone.

And she just sat there for awhile. And let herself... process.

There was a lot to process. And six weeks in, she'd barely gotten started.

Anomaly. (Supergirl)

Nevyn_Black said:

"Honestly, I didn't think I would wake after that one. But it is good to meet you. And thank you for saving my life. Can I use your computer when I'm feeling better?" Jaime asked the vision of perfect feminine beauty.

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"Saving lives is all part of the service," Supergirl grinned. "And it's good to meet you, too, I've heard good things. But honestly, it wasn't just me. That little guy fused to your spine sent out alarm bells on a frequency I could hear, like a distress signal, otherwise I might never have found you in time. Come to think of it, your bioneural interface with the implant may have made it easier for us to use alien tech to fix your wounds, so that's twice he saved you."

She frowned however, as he asked to use her computer, though it wasn't a cold and unfeeling frown, just a frown of deep cogitation.

"As for the other thing."

"Well. Your little friend's heart might be in the right place-- somewhere between the thoracic and the lumbar? --but The Fortress doesn't like him very much. It's not entirely surprising, my uncle and my father designed this place, and they were good friends with The Martian-- and Martians were good friends with The Guardians, and The Guardians and The Reach, not so friendly."

"Security protocols basically killed the wi-fi the moment I brought you in the door. I highly doubt they'd let you interact with the systems directly."

She shrugged slender shoulders that could bench Manhattan, and moved to a console composed of translucent, luminous crystals. "But not for nothing: I'm the Last Scion of The House of El. This is my Fortress, and it's my family's legacy. You want me to look something up for you?"

"Do not pray for an easy life..." (Artemis)

TertiusHuman said:

He brushed at the palm aimed for his face, twisted slightly to cause the blow to glance off of him. Shoved her away by her waist and went at her with a jumping knee, courtesy of Muay Thai and that alone would have been a final move, but he knew her speed and if she bent over his foot was prepared to lash out at her chin if left unprotected, if she dodged his leading foot could stamp down at her and his left foot kick through if dodged that way.

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That knee jerked up at her and she threw herself backwards, graceless as Hell but it got the job done--

--she barely cleared the clap of that stamping foot as it came down, just barely, a game of inches.

She was tough as all nails and against a normal opponent she could do this all day--

--but she was fighting a supersoldier.

An agent of A.R.G.U.S. powered by Venom.

Every blow they'd exchanged had been a war of attrition, wearing her down, grinding down her angles and her edges. And she had been really, really hoping-- gambling, even-- that that palm-strike to his solar plexus would have winded him and wound this down.

But no, no, she felt slow as molasses, slow as molasses with extra lead, she felt the breeze from his toes on her face as she narrowly reeled back from the stomp of his foot.

And she knew that if she didn't plant a solid hit against him sooner than pronto, his next finisher would finish her. Not that losing to him would be so bad, really? As a rule, she hated losing, and even now, it wasn't her preference. She could lose to him and be okay with it maybe.

But damn if she wasn't gonna make him work for it.

And so she launched, bounded straight up in the air, straight up into a jump from her crouch on the mat while he was still half-kneeling from the foot-stomp--

--and aimed an elbow at one upper corner of his head, and a knee at the opposite lower corner, and brought them crashing together like cymbals, aiming to smash his head in between them. The force of one should compound the force of the other?

One would think.

John

Decision time, he was not sure how the symbiote knew, but Artemis was slowing down, not getting sloppy, but that was the closest he had come to landing a devastating blow during the whole session. With his decision made, he used a hand to block the knee, not stopping it cold, but slowing down the impact, cringing away from it...right into the elbow.

Stars exploded in the back of his vision and pitched him forward, he lay there sprawled out, close to that brink where the consciousness go to shut down and reboot. He could feel the symbiote fretting, not sure that if it took over it will not attack Artemis. There was still so much to learn from the symbiote and what had been done to it. His mind was wandering, good sign. Meant he wasn't going to pass out.

More by instinct that conscious thought, he rolled from her and got shakily to his knees. He stopped there, looking at her. OK so the blurred vision wasn't such a good thing, the throbbing in the back of his head would be from that hit. He sat back and held up his hands, with a shock he realized that he was breathing hard, almost gasping for breath. "OK, I give up. Unless you want to finish this, I'm done."

ChasNicollette said:

"Saving lives is all part of the service," Supergirl grinned. "And it's good to meet you, too, I've heard good things. But honestly, it wasn't just me. That little guy fused to your spine sent out alarm bells on a frequency I could hear, like a distress signal, otherwise I might never have found you in time. Come to think of it, your bioneural interface with the implant may have made it easier for us to use alien tech to fix your wounds, so that's twice he saved you."

She frowned however, as he asked to use her computer, though it wasn't a cold and unfeeling frown, just a frown of deep cogitation.

"As for the other thing."

"Well. Your little friend's heart might be in the right place-- somewhere between the thoracic and the lumbar? --but The Fortress doesn't like him very much. It's not entirely surprising, my uncle and my father designed this place, and they were good friends with The Martian-- and Martians were good friends with The Guardians, and The Guardians and The Reach, not so friendly."

"Security protocols basically killed the wi-fi the moment I brought you in the door. I highly doubt they'd let you interact with the systems directly."

She shrugged slender shoulders that could bench Manhattan, and moved to a console composed of translucent, luminous crystals. "But not for nothing: I'm the Last Scion of The House of El. This is my Fortress, and it's my family's legacy. You want me to look something up for you?"

Click to expand...

Jaime sighed and swallowed, looking at her, eyeing her up and down in her outfit, not as a man would ogle a pretty girl, but seeking a reaction from Khaji, a threat evaluation, a list of her weaknesses, some means to her destruction.

"I'm surprised that you say Khaji has been helping me. You see, he hasn't been talking to me for the last six weeks. I even went so far as to place myself into a medically induced coma to force him to talk to me. All I saw was some ancient Egyptian town in a sandstorm. And out of the storm a strange man's voice spouting cryptic remarks about how Khaji and I were meant for a purpose The Reach never planned for. That someone else had interfered."

Jaime carefully shifted his weight, careful of his now closed wound, sitting further up in the med bed. He took a deep breath against the pain. It hurt less than it had before, but still a great deal more than he had experienced in many years.

"So I was hoping that if I could talk to some of the last surviving members of some of the oldest and most powerful species in the history of the Universe, they might have some archival records of interactions with The Reach, or the Scarabs, or even Khaji Da, himself. Some linkage between Khaji and myself maybe."

Jaime met her impossibly blue eyes, intense in his own warm brown regard.
"I've never understood why I was chosen as his host. I was just some regular kid from el Paso. Not especially strong or brave or smart. No meta-human genome. So why did he choose ME? Why am I the guy who gets to be the ultimate weapon?"

Jaime shrugged a little, painfully. "I'm afraid I can't tell you even where to start looking. I was hoping that some ancestor of yours might have been the one who altered Khaji's programming. For all I know, you should search for the word 'Blue'."

The Flight of Apollo. (Supergirl)

Nevyn_Black said:

Jaime sighed and swallowed, looking at her, eyeing her up and down in her outfit, not as a man would ogle a pretty girl, but seeking a reaction from Khaji, a threat evaluation, a list of her weaknesses, some means to her destruction.

Click to expand...

Kara Zor-El, Earth name "Linda Lee Danvers," had vast superhuman senses at her disposal, but eyes in the back of her head weren't one of them. At best, the feeling of "being watched" was a pseudoscientific intuition.

But if Khaji Da scanned her, she felt no sensor wake wash up against her, heard no paraspectrum chatter. No particle sweep pinballing between her densely-packed molecules, not even a telltale prickle in her invulnerable bioelectric force-aura.

Also, for all her abilities, telepathy wasn't one of them. Sometimes if she squinted, she could perceive frequencies in the vicinity of 7 MHz, the approximate range of brainwaves and mind-control, but that wasn't quite the same thing.

One thing she did sense, however, was a certain distinctive creak of the eye muscles, first down then up again. The number of times she'd heard that in her life...

Maybe Artemis Crock was catnip? But Linda Danvers was Galadriel. Even certain otherwise cishet ladies and the like had been tongue-tied in her presence. And thus, she had no other context to assign to Jaime's scope-out of her silhouette. And she smiled, wry and faint, to herself.

At least he hasn't said anything about 'X-ray Vision' yet. If I had a nickel for every Tommy Monaghan that's laid that line on me...

Nevyn_Black said:

"I'm surprised that you say Khaji has been helping me. You see, he hasn't been talking to me for the last six weeks. I even went so far as to place myself into a medically induced coma to force him to talk to me. All I saw was some ancient Egyptian town in a sandstorm. And out of the storm a strange man's voice spouting cryptic remarks about how Khaji and I were meant for a purpose The Reach never planned for. That someone else had interfered."

Click to expand...

"You almost placed yourself in worse than that, Jaime," Supergirl pointed out. "Going into a fight like that without your power source? You sure you weren't going for two near-death experiences for the price of one? I spent decades in Phantom Zone suspended animation before reaching Earth, I wouldn't go back under in such a hurry. You're lucky that 'silent treatment' doesn't always mean 'hates your guts.'"

She squinted, then, and glanced back at him. "Although I've had my share of textbook-enigmatic visions. They're always so stingy with the details. I don't suppose that still small voice in the storm was in any hurry to namedrop?"

Considering that, she shook her head. "Of course it wasn't. So you came looking for me."

Nevyn_Black said:

"So I was hoping that if I could talk to some of the last surviving members of some of the oldest and most powerful species in the history of the Universe, they might have some archival records of interactions with The Reach, or the Scarabs, or even Khaji Da, himself. Some linkage between Khaji and myself maybe."

Click to expand...

"'Oldest and most powerful,'" Supergirl nodded, slow smile adorning her lips. "See, now you're just trying to flatter me. But there's a lot we don't know about the early history of my people-- there's a ferocious debate about who came first, us or The Daxamites. And I once heard that one of the big bullet-points in the detente between The Reach and The Guardians is that The Reach can't establish a foothold in a Sector where The Lantern Corps has an active presence. Krypton was in Sector 2813, which has had a long history of Lanterns-- right now it's a nice Xudarian kid named Tomar-Tu. His dad was okay too. We had beef, once, but we patched up before he passed on."

Her fingers played over the crystal console, and she ran her tongue over her teeth as Kryptonese script scrolled past in blue, red, and gold holographic columns.

"Sector 2814, however, didn't have an official Lantern Corps presence for, as far as I can tell, most of the Egyptian dynasties. There was a thing in China once, but that wasn't--"

She shook her head, looked back over at Jaime. "And we don't have one right now. Sector 2814, that's us, hasn't had a Lantern for... ten years? Hm. So I haven't had direct contact with The Reach, and neither have The Kryptonians."

"Just what I've got in the ol' intergalactic Wikipedia, here."

Nevyn_Black said:

Jaime met her impossibly blue eyes, intense in his own warm brown regard.
"I've never understood why I was chosen as his host. I was just some regular kid from el Paso. Not especially strong or brave or smart. No meta-human genome. So why did he choose ME? Why am I the guy who gets to be the ultimate weapon?"

Click to expand...

He really did have nice eyes. Mahogany, maybe sequoia.

Her wild-yonder eyes gazed contemplatively at him as she leaned against the console with her arms crossed over her bulletproof tummy.

"Well. I hate to say this. But while Green Lanterns are chosen for their ability to overcome fear, The Reach doesn't seem to be nearly so picky. In fact, their Infiltrator drones, no matter what form they take, seem to be meant to overwrite the sentience of their host, leave it on the cutting-room floor. They don't need their people to be anything special, because the Infiltrator's supposed to just... take over."

"Except you're dealing with an Infiltrator that got... 'interfered with.'"

"So maybe who you really need to talk to is whomever it is knocked your Scarab off-mode in the first place. Maybe they gave it some kind of guidance protocols that the original programming lacked? Which brings us back to your John-the-Baptist voice in the wilderness thing. That didn't give us any details."

Nevyn_Black said:

Jaime shrugged a little, painfully. "I'm afraid I can't tell you even where to start looking. I was hoping that some ancestor of yours might have been the one who altered Khaji's programming. For all I know, you should search for the word 'Blue'."

Click to expand...

"Mmm. No. Not one of my ancestors. Though I might not have put it past Kem-L, it really doesn't seem like his work."

She turned back to face the console, and, adjusting the position of a couple of crystals and flourishing her fingertips at superspeed over a keypad, she called up the search listing for the word "blue."

"Wavelength of the electromagnetic spectrum visible to humans... also represents hope in the emotional electromagnetic spectrum, I like that."

"...there's a footnote here about a planet called Odym, no more information, wonder what that's about..."

"...blue skies traditionally represent optimism in Earthling storytelling, unless you're a pluviophile..."

"...The Flash once had to put up with a guy called Cobalt Blue..."

"...Talokites are blue..."

"...Oans are blue..."

"...at least some people from Hellhole-- uh-- Garnet are blue..."

She shook her head. "There's potentially millions of entries here, enough that it would take even my speed-reading some time to sort it all. We need to narrow it down somehow."

Supergirl pursed her lips. "Have you tried talking to J'onn at all?"

"...pray for the strength to endure a difficult one." (Artemis)

TertiusHuman said:

More by instinct that conscious thought, he rolled from her and got shakily to his knees. He stopped there, looking at her. OK so the blurred vision wasn't such a good thing, the throbbing in the back of his head would be from that hit. He sat back and held up his hands, with a shock he realized that he was breathing hard, almost gasping for breath. "OK, I give up. Unless you want to finish this, I'm done."

Click to expand...

Again with the fire-hydrant thing.

Both her elbow and her knee felt like they were gonna be bruised for a month.

She felt like she had been rode hard and hung up wet, and not, natcherly, in the fun way.

But she had made a superhuman breathe hard.

And he had conceded the fight.

Yeah, she felt better now. A Hell of a lot better.

Slowly, carefully rising to her own feet, suddenly feeling the powerful need for a gallon of water or sports drinks and about a quarter-dozen protein bars, she offered him a hand up.

"Lucky for you," heavy breath, hooboy, "my mentor made me promise to stop hitting people when they're down. So," 'nother deep breath, "lucky."

A parched swallow reminded her that maybe that gallon should be sooner rather than later.

And she acknowledged, tersely, that he didn't suck so bad: "Good session."

He took the offered hand and got up with the little bit of assistance. Well it felt good, the juice burned up, physical en mental exercise...it was the most fun he had in ages. OK so it was fun that hurt, he knew that he'd be hurting later on despite the curative actions of the juice.

"I'll thank your mentor for his teachings then." He'd like to have made a joke, offering to buy her a drink since they both clearly needed it. But even though the symbiote was certain that her hate was for him and not for John, he still could not treat her like a normal woman. She was from being normal.

Hot though

'Shut up'

What he did do was get two towels, handing one to her. Had to admit though, she had a killer body and the rest wasn't bad to look at either. Only when you look too deep into those eyes you see more inner-turmoil than a washing machine in overdrive. As he blotted the sweat from his face, he decided to take a chance, the worst she could do was try and kill him.

"Could I offer you a drink? I feel like bleached bone."

Smooth

'It's better than what you wanted to say'

Since when cant you just say 'Hey wanna fuck?'

'The sixties. And you're not in a night club where that kind of offer gets accepted nine times out of ten'

Yeah we're in a dojo where you just went fisticuffs with the woman you have been checking out. Six weeks is a looooong period of looking AND doing nothing.

John had nothing to say to that, but thinking back he had to grin at the sight of her ripping open her shirt to get ready. Any other man would most likely have checked out what she wore underneath. He would most likely have too if he wasn't busy getting himself mentally ready for an ass-whuppin. Realizing she might mis-intepret the sudden grin and his gaze lingering on her neck, he orced it from his lips.

Impulse

Play. Play. Play -- all day. One knew, how. 'It' was, with. Kids. Children. What was, important. What seemed, to....monopolize, their. Time, of. Day. The full, span -- if one, they, could help it -- of their, day's. Time.

It wasn't work.
It wasn't responsibility.
It wasn't life's lessons. Or learning.

No. Not in the eyes -- heart -- of a child. Not even close!

It was about...fun. Having it. Lots of it. It was about imagination. It was nothing, to be. Taken serious. Just boundless, joy. Happiness. Through recreational...play!

Did. Did one forget, how to. Do just that? How to let loose? How to kick back? Relax? Did one forget, how to....play?

Some. Sometimes, people. The many, of. An individual, can. Be so, absorbed. Unto the daily -- busy bee -- routine, aspect. Of one's -- their own of a -- life. Ever the circle, ever the cycle. Stop, go. Stand, sit. Eat, sleep. Rush, rush, rush! That...that more, oft. Than not, understandably. It's forgotten. Past the mechanics. The monotony. The redundance....

....further, even. Within the innocence. Of youth. Because, the little. Girl, or. Boy. Never, needed to. Try. It was all, very. Natural.

The fun.
The joy.
The...play.

So. So then, perhaps. Maybe. Was it life, itself -- and the tract, to adulthood -- which, was. A glaring problem, for some. Great manyment. Of persons, out there?

Remember: look to the children

Couldn't be more, true. To the T, than. With one, an. Especially, youthful -- in mind, spirit, and heart -- adolescent. Named Bart Allen....
========================================================================
Ten Years Ago. [Ravenscar Psychiatric Asylum. In London, England]

Recently, torn. From the future. From a home. From a flitting -- fading -- memory, of. A mother's, loving...

Embrace. The rapidly-aging baby/toddler, was. Taken. Rescued. In utmost hope. That someone. Somewhere. Could help him. Cure him. Save him...

The white haired man found him. Found Bart. And promised, nothing more. Than to do the best, he could. How he could. With any means, at his. Disposal. Primarily, of course. The Speed Force.

It was through(and with) that, extraordinary...phenomenon. Wherein the older figure, was able to. Locate and find, the youth. Almost. Almost, as if....the little one. Had been, calling out to him. Because Bart was, connected. Also! To that same sentient. To the Speed Force.

Not so, unlike. How they both, came across. The Crimson one. Flash.

Something fateful. Meant to happen. Destiny talk. What's more -- for the tyke's part -- should, the older speedster. Fail. At least, on the behalf of Bart. Unrelenting, super-increased metabolism. And all. The kid would die. From the accelerated aging process.

The end.

That's why, the two. Came to this, place. This spot. This person. In time. The Flash.

....it was of course, early. Back then. Way too early. For someone. Like Bart. Whom at that point. Had a very, under-developed. Mind. To recount, much. If anything, at all. On what exactly, might. Have been, said. Or done. Even exchanged. And for how long. He was, realistically. Just a babe, after all.

Barry could probably, have. Told him, he came. From the moon, and the stars. Or the ocean, and the seas. Even brought down, by dear ol' Saint Nick -- and Bart'd have. No choice, but to believe. If of course, he were. To even be...listening!

To be sure, and. To be true, however. It did happen. Both elder Max Mercury, and little Bart. Showed up, upon Barry's. Proverbial. Doorstep, that day.

For. For the, better. Or worse...
========================================================================
About Eight and a Half Years Ago. [Keystone City]

With some dedication. Determination. Little ingenuity. And long hours. Not to mention, the much needed. Help. Of a Cisco Ramon. The young boy's super, duper. Physical maturing conundrum...was finally. Solved! During such time, though. In the seventeen or so months, trial and error. Mathematical equations, and. Scientific hypotheses -- even tempting, something like. Physics with, that of. The Speed Force. (because he -- as far as anyone knew -- came from it; and like Barry, his connection to it was so...ever-present!)

...but between that first, moment. In London, to this. A very day, when Cisco. Astoundingly cured him....he -- Bart -- the toddler. The tyke. The little one. Had physically grown. Into the body, of a. Ten year old!

If. If it hadn't, been. For Felicity Smoak's, intuition. Rather, her placing him. In a retrofit, Virtual Reality. A world of it! The bundlement of simulations, that she set up. For him, specifically. To catch up, with him. Inside his head. And help, build. And establish. Something tangible. And 'real', for him. A childhood, too. Without this, gesture. This notion. He most likely, would have. Lost touch, with. Reality. And most possibly, gone. Insane. Or much worse!

To be of interest -- 'life' inside Virtual Reality, could. Be very, different. From what took, place. Outside, in the real world.
========================================================================
Then. Within the Six Week Gap. [Star City]

From that first day, he'd. Gotten, out. Out from his, home. Schooled, VR program. Out, side. Of the Justice Society's, building -- The Brownstone. And into, the 'real' world.

Out. And, inter. Acting. With real, folk. Real, people. Real...heroes. Of the super, variety!

Yes. Bart, was let. Loose. Upon all, for all. For the very, of. First times -- and. And, just. What was that saying: once experienced, there's no going back!

Yeah. Cat out of, the. Bag. Kinda deal. No way, no how the. Teen speedster, would. Settle. For any, a. Thing, less. Than 'real' life. Even. Mm. Even, if...he might not, have. Truly identified, a. Difference, thus...far.

...despite. Guidance. Both familial, and. Authoritative -- well...any?

One. One would, have. To see. That with, this one. With this, kid. With a boy, like Bart......pretty much, all. Rules and regulations, were. OUT, the window!

Case in point.

"I'd like for you, to take a look at this. It's a book..." someone might, have. Suggested, to the youth.

But. But he was, mashmashmash'ing. Down, on some. Buttons. His lemony irises, franatically. Darted. All, over. The giant, flat. Screen, television!

"Bart!" the irritation, easily. Could have, set in.

"Huh?"

"You weren't paying attention again. I was telling you about something called a book--"

"Wass'a...'book'..?" still watching. Fingers, on the fly!

"It's this. This over here."

GotitGotitaaaalllllllmostGotit -- twistTWISTshiftTURNcon-tortttt -- "GAH! NoWayNoWayNoWayyy....I gott'mm....I gott'mm!" BlinkBlinkBlink. "YouSaw, YouSaw, YouSaw, rightrightright?"

The screen read, plainly: GAME OVER!

Shaking one's head, book in tow. The individual left. Obviously, someone. Hadn't been, paying. The very much, attention...

Of course, per. Haps. One, had to. Be, quite the. Little, more of. Subtle. With him. That's where, the woman. That was, Felicity. Hesitated, not to. Astound, with more. Integrated Programming, within the. One environment, the boy. Might be, most. Comfortable with....
========================================================================
[Between the Here and the Now]

A room. With rows, of. Desks, and. Chairs. One table, up front. Chalkboard behind, ran. The length of the, wall. Windows, upon the left. A closed door, on the. Right.

Kids. Teenagers, sat. At each, desk. Filling the, room. He, was at one. Too. Sitting, wondering. Waiting, on...

Good afternoon, class. Before we begin, I shall be breaking you up into four groups of five. The monotonous voice, rang. Out, from a. Figure, seated. Behind the table, at the. Front of the, room. The figure, was. All silhouetted, in. Black. Before his...face. Slowly. Became, unveiled. Parted brown, short. Hair. And light. Eyes, upon the adult -- man's -- visage. The tone of his, voice. Registered. More life, in it. Too. "...and the last group. Group Four -- please come over here -- consists of Mister Allen, Mister Draper, Mister Kent, and yes....you two girls, as well...."

"You will be working together in these groups all week, by the way. The point of today's exercise is getting to know each other. Introduce yourself. Say something that is important to you. What you hold dear. Or care about the most. Remember -- there is no right or wrong answer here."

The first brave, person. Within the group, took it upon. Herself. To be first. "Hi you guys. My name is Cassie Sandsmark. I want to say -- all things being full of wonder and all -- I guess I just...I dunno...I appreciate a lot of the little things. Feeling the sun upon my skin. The smell in the air, right before it's going to rain--" The shoulder lengthed, blonde haired girl(with a thin black headband). Smiled to all. She wore a black tee, with a yellow 'W' 'cross. The center.

"You're cute." The biggest of the, bunch. Went next. Although, his clear blues. Were openly. Making eyes, with Cassie's own. Crystalline orbs.

Her cheeks, flushed. At the compliment, some. "Uhm...thanks?" She averted her eyes, biting. That smiling, lower. Lip.

He grinned, at this. Continuing. "Name's Conner. I'd rather be outside, than cooped up...in here. So, yeah. Kinda a big deal. Me. And all. Just sayin'. I like sports, the beach. Girls, obviously --" he winked, to the one. Female classmate. And she giggled, nervously in response. "-- so yeah. Pretty super." Short, darkest of. Dark hair, framed the top. Of his head. He also, rocked a. Black shirt, though. A crimson red 'S' adorned
its center, as. The emblem.

"I'm Cissie King-Jones. Nice to meet everyone here. I would have to say, what's most important to me...besides friends --" her and Cassie, reached. To touch, hands. With one, another. "--is, well. My family. Without them....I can't imagine where I'd be!" She wore her, perfectly. Straight, long. Golden hair. Pulled back, into that. Of a, ponytail.

"SoSoSo...UhUhUhh...Yes. I'mmmmmm BartBartBart!" he stood. Waved. Grinned. Sat. Then, stood once more. Waving, and. Grinning. "You. YouAll. YouAll. YouAlllll AreAreAre soOOOoooooo SUPERandDUPER. YouAll AreAreAre soOOOoo wunnerful. CoooolCoolCool -- ahaha!" His yellows darting, from the each. From the every. Even to people, not. Within their group. To which, he started.....wandering...

"Yohhh, man. Back here! And take a...breather, right?" Conner called out, to him.

"Hey -- don't be rude to him. I for one, want to thank you, Bart. That was very nice of you to say..." Cissie complimented him.

"Yeah, agreed. Totally sweet of you too!" the other girl, Cassie. Chimed in, as well.

Bart blinked, the many. Ment of times, before. Almost, uncompre. Hending, the influx. Of praises. And then, his smiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiile. Grew, really. Really. REALLY big!

The last teenager, had been. Observing the group's, antics. This entire time. Silently. Calculating. And, not. Offering anything. But watchful, brown eyes. He spoke, finally. In a tone, that could be. Considered...soft. "I'm Alvin."

The others all, looked at him. Waiting. But he said, nothing. Else! Conner eventually, prodded him. "Dude. That's it?"

Alvin thought, for a moment. He nodded.

Conner wasn't having, it. "C'mon. You can do better than that. My DOG can do better than that!"

Twitching his lips. Some. Alvin then added. "I'm smart." He then, folded. His arms, across his. Chest. Not willing to, 'budge'. Any, the. More.
========================================================================
Now. [Justice Society Headquarters, within Star City]

It was, just. So. That Felicity, might. Mm. Yes, might have. 'Struck gold'(or at least silver), in giving. The teen speedster, a nice(r). Balance. Of material, to work with. Within his Virtual Reality, simulated. Settings. Fictitious or not. It had -- appeared -- to, help. In that, there was some....'progress'. Being made. Maybe. Kind of. If not, the tiniest. Fraction of, it!

....oh. He still, wanted to. Play. Of course. Can't take the Kid, out of. The Play. Not so! It was, quite simply -- Kid 'N' Play!

But. But, if one. If someone -- if she -- could, CHANNEL. Some of, that. Energy, of his--!

Perhaps, it'd be. Easier, if Barry himself. Could...would, tend. To the boy, personally. He effectively, probably. WOULD be, the most. Qualified -- genetics, aside -- due to, the Speed Force. Connection. The only problem was....Barry Allen, was. A very, very busy man. He was a super hero. And whilst, he was able. At times, to. Devote a moment. Here, and there. For the kid. It couldn't, truly....be. The every, waking hour.

...whomever in their, right mind. Would be able, to handle. THAT noise, right?

It wasn't Bart's, fault. Either. He just....missed out, on. 'Life'. Or, his special life, created unique....circumstances. For him. The boy was, only acting -- and behaving -- on instincts. Who could blame him?

So yes. The channeling of that, enthusiasm. Those antics. That energy. Unto the VR world. In a productive, manner. Even. Win-win all around!

When Bart came across, Billy or Sarah. Wide eyed, absolute GLEE. Painted upon his, features. Almost, faster-than-fast. And he hung out, with his. Friends when he could. Never forgetting the, super hero action figure. That Billy bestowed, upon him -- he seemingly took that, bad boy....everywhere!

Today. It was today, that the youth. Had been, at it. Practicing, a move. He saw, Barry pull off. And had yet, to actually. Try it, himself. For lack of....even...thinking, to pull it off!

He wanted to 'learn/become-acquainted/master': running up the side, of a building!

It wasn't, the beginning -- racing up -- of the actual building, which. Bart found, challenging. No. It was, the ending. Stopping. Or 'landing'. On top, or where. Upon, ever. And not over shooting the goal! It was tricky. Difficult. And something, that'd been. Very, elusive for him. Some...twenty-some, buildings.

If. If he could, just. Do this. Do it. Do the DEED -- once. It'd all be worth it! Barry, Felicity -- everyone....they'd be, SO. Proud of 'em!

BreeeeeeeeeeeatheIn, BreatheOut, BreatheInBreatheOut. BreatheBreatheBreathe! LookUp, VisorOn. NodNodNodddd....

"GoGoGo tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime!" he squeeled.

*FFFFSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooooosssssssssshhhhhhhhhhh*

...he bolted up, the side of. The Brownstone. Like none, the other. He felt the aura. He felt the determination. He felt the moment. He -- "Wass'ATTTTTTTT?!" -- cried out, confuzzled. Catching instantaneous sight, of a pair of shoes. WhoaWhoaWhoaaaaaaaa...

Twissssssssssssssst -- SPINNNNN -- eeeeeeeevade!

...with all, the. Mite of, his. Efforts. He attempted. To 'miss', colliding. With the shoes, and. Inadvertently, the. Individual attached, to them! Hoping to move, around. That person. Upon the rooftop --

WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa -- tossssssss -- BUMPP/thunnkkkk!

-- the notion, landed him. On his butt, unceremoniously so! Not hardly, the move. He had SO wanted, to. Learn. Become acquainted. Or even, master!

Hufffffff -- pant pant -- Pufff'ing! His yellows went, wide. Before he remembered. He quickly, got to his feet. And daaaaaaaashed, over. To the female individual, with whom. He almost collided -- visor up, concern 'cross innocent lemony eyes. Reaching, to help. To assist. Because his....apologetic expression, was all over him. "I'mmmm SoSoSo, I feel, I feel.....baaaaaaaaad. BadBart, BadBart, bad's! I'mSorry's miss--" then, shaking his head. A bit. He continued...rambling. "Cani, Cani, Mayi, Mayi...getcha AnyAnyAnything? I didn't MEAN it, I swear, I promise. iPromiseAndiSwear!" he breathed, deeply. Trying to remember. "I...I mean. I'mmm Bart. Bart is, Bart is MeMeMe!" he couldn't, help. For the life of him, NOT to smile. Widely. At the person, whom he'd. Never. Met. "....and guesss i GottaWaysToGo...For -- " he just, then. Gazed at those, lovely red. Locks of hers. "-- YourHairYourHair....it's. Uhh. ItLooksItLooksItLooks...." searching, thinking, blinkblinkblink'ing "...i liiiiiike it?" he offered her, one. More. Smile. Despite, the antics. Of himself. Because of, himself..."Haha..."
========================================================================

"When We Come Alive," by Switchfoot. (Rose)

She sat there gazing into the middle distance of nowhere, quiet ache in her heart-- but at least it was quiet.

Yesterday reads like a tragedy, her playlist opined,
I try not to lose what’s left of me
But it’s gone
Yeah, but we carry on

She hugged herself quietly, her phone clutched in one hand, the tireless speakers loud and clear.

We are fire
Burning brightly
You and I

And then-- the winds changed. (All of the. Sudden.)

Lachiyous said:

...he bolted up, the side of. The Brownstone. Like none, the other. He felt the aura. He felt the determination. He felt the moment. He -- "Wass'ATTTTTTTT?!" -- cried out, confuzzled. Catching instantaneous sight, of a pair of shoes. WhoaWhoaWhoaaaaaaaa...

Twissssssssssssssst -- SPINNNNN -- eeeeeeeevade!

...with all, the. Mite of, his. Efforts. He attempted. To 'miss', colliding. With the shoes, and. Inadvertently, the. Individual attached, to them! Hoping to move, around. That person. Upon the rooftop --

WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa -- tossssssss -- BUMPP/thunnkkkk!

-- the notion, landed him. On his butt, unceremoniously so!

Click to expand...

Rose squeaked and threw her hands up over her head, reeling and rolling back and sideways as the blur flashed past her, landing in a heap a handful of yards away. ...Rose was in a bit of a heap herself, gravel clinging to her Kombines hoodie as her hand hovered an inch above slapping her watch-- was-- was she under attack?

Lachiyous said:

Hufffffff -- pant pant -- Pufff'ing! His yellows went, wide. Before he remembered. He quickly, got to his feet. And daaaaaaaashed, over. To the female individual, with whom. He almost collided -- visor up, concern 'cross innocent lemony eyes. Reaching, to help. To assist. Because his....apologetic expression, is all over him. "I'mmmm SoSoSo, I feel, I feel.....baaaaaaaaad. BadBart, BadBart, bad's! I'mSorry's miss--" then, shaking his head. A bit. He continued...rambling. "Cani, Cani, Mayi, Mayi...getcha AnyAnyAnything? I didn't MEAN it, I swear, I promise. iPromiseAndiSwear!" he breathed, deeply. Trying to remember. "I...I mean. I'mmm Bart. Bart is, Bart is MeMeMe!" he couldn't, help. For the life of him, NOT to smile. Widely. At the person, whom he'd. Never. Met. "....and guesss i GottaWaysToGo...For -- " he just, then. Gazed at those, lovely red. Locks of hers. "-- YourHairYourHair....it's. Uhh. ItLooksItLooksItLooks...." searching, thinking, blinkblinkblink'ing "...i liiiiiike it?" he offered her, one. More. Smile. Despite, the antics. Of himself. Because of, himself..."Haha..."

Click to expand...

His speech was a jumbled mess, a sixty-car pile-up on a motorway of words, and her eyes darted this way and that in an attempt to-- process. It was a bit like she talked when she was Constant-C, only less straight-up fearful and more socially anxious, and while Constant-C talked all rapid-fire with little to no space bar, at least her conversational style seemed more linear.

But Rose got snippets. Here and there. "My-- my hair?" she sputtered incredulously. "Your-- your eyes. You have golden eyes. At least red hair is a color people's hair sometimes is. I get it from my dad. But where'd you get your peepers? Not that they're not-- I mean-- they're lovely. I knew a girl with purple eyes, once, but I've never seen golden."

Belatedly, she accepted his hand up, and she glanced around for her phone-- then realized, also belatedly, that after it had skittered across the rooftop when she rolled one way and it hurtled the other, that it had turned up in her pocket. Just like always.

It feels like I could get lost today
The winds in my mind get swept away
And I’m gone, gone

She tugged her phone out of her pocket and she turned off her playlist. "I'm all right. I'm-- rattled. But I've had worse."

"I'm Rose. Pleased to meet you, Bart, I guess. Surprised, but I think I'm pleased?"

Dusting some of the gravel off of her jeans and the rest of her, she gazed at him with a quietly-thoughtful scrutiny. "Captain Obvious, I know, but-- you're like him, aren't you?"

Where she came from, there would be no question who "him" meant.

"I didn't know that The Flash had family."

The woods were eerily silent tonight. As if every creature, great and small understood what was coming. Understood and had the proper fear of God put right through them.

The tracks had been in disuse for a very long time. An old shipping line for the logging that took place here at the turn of the century. Tonight they carried a lot more than lumber. They carried hate. Ill-wishes. Death.

The train was as silent as the cold breeze that blew through the night. Coasting to a stop in the middle of these dark and desolate woods, on the edge of Slaugter Swamp. Men and woman, all clad in the uniform of The League of Assassins disembarked the train. Armed with blades rather than guns, they slinked off the train. Moving quickly to the last car they opened the boxcar and began unloading their freight.

There was a small building in the clearing. An old depot. It was here that they were planning to set up shop. As they loaded the freight into the old building Nyssa al'Ghul emerges. She walks from the building beside a man of whose golden skin glows softly in the moonlight.

"I trust Mr. Kenyon, that you have held up your end of the bargain."

"Call me Goldface. And I told your emissary, my Network and InterGang, we always keep up our end of the deal. The devices have been adapted to your specifications. The initial wave you sent have already been deployed. These last few crates contain the rest?"

"Indeed. I want them set by dawn. You have the full cooperation of my men. See it done."

"I have also arranged reinforcements. I know that you have dealt with the Arrow in the past. But trust me, the so called heroes in this city aren't the only ones you need to worry about. The organized crime and underworld have been at war for as long as this city has stood. Most have bent knee to InterGang and will support you. However there are a few hold outs."

"We are the League of Assassins. I fear not some petty crooks in a rundown city. This city will fall. The Batman will pay for his hubris. And any that support him will pay right along with him."

As dawn comes the last of the Leagues' devices is installed in the city. Gotham stands poised on the brink of a war.


At 7:45 AM the first salvo is fired. The Waynemed Clinic in The Narrows is reduced to rubble. And with it, 17 men and women and 4 children lose their lives.


"Goddamit! We have kids dead! FUCKIN KIDS! YOU SORRY BASTARDS MOVE! I WANT TO KNOW WHO, WHAT, AND HOW BY LUNCH. SO HELP ME THE LAST MAN TO FIND ME SOMETHING IS BACK ON PARKING DETAIL!" Harvey Bullock, now in his 70s, roars like a wounded lion. He may be past his physical prime, but he is still one of the most respected men in Gotham.

Jim Gordon, now in his 60's, ploughs out of the office. He is already wearing his bullet proof vest. As he walks by his old partner he claps him on the shoulder. Both men clearly past the age of mandatory retirement, though no one is willing to be the one to try and enforce it. Besides which, no two police officials had done as much for any city as they had for Gotham, and that earned them some leeway.

"What my old friend means to say is, you all know how this city is. We live in a powder keg. One that currently, is missing it's guardian angel. Listen, boys, girls, this is all on us now. The papers have called the lot of us a lot of things. Say it's the Bat that keeps this city safe. Time to remind them we kept this city safe before he came around, and we are gonna do it with or without him. Now lets figure this out. I want men evacuating every school, every public building."

The radio comes to life. Calls of other buildings crumbling like ash. Nothing left. Men and women, children, all dead. By 10:30am the death toll has reached over 300. And that's when they make their move. Every radio, television station, internet connection, every means of communication is taken over at once in Gotham.

Nyssa al'Ghul, appears for all to see. "Good Morning Gotham. I am Nyssa. Your city now belongs to me. My men have shut down all contact in and out of the city. And right now, every bridge and tunnel was just collapsed. Gotham is now under the control of Intergang and the League of Shadows. Your false idol has failed to protect you. And now, you will all pay for his crimes. He has taken something that belongs to me. Unless he and his partners return it, and surrender, I will raze this city. And every life in it will be forfeit. The Demon's Head has spoken."

"Be happy, but never satisfied." (Artemis)

TertiusHuman said:

"I'll thank your mentor for his teachings then."

Click to expand...

Rolling out her shoulder-- faint little twinge still sometimes from the shoulder Icicle had hit like a month ago, probably mostly just psychosomatic at this point --from helping to haul him to his feet, Artemis pressed her lips into a thin little smirk. "Hell, he's teaching you as much as me these days, you'll have to let me know how that's going sometime."

TertiusHuman said:

What he did do was get two towels, handing one to her.

Click to expand...

She nodded, quick little chin-up nod thank you, and dabbed at her throat and down to the neckline of her sports bra.

TertiusHuman said:

As he blotted the sweat from his face, he decided to take a chance, the worst she could do was try and kill him.

"Could I offer you a drink? I feel like bleached bone."

Click to expand...

"What kind of drink are we talking about here?" Artemis wondered, not unreasonably, draping that towel over her shoulder. "Because I would maim for a beer right now, but there's this little issue of me not being twenty-one plus. Hell, I can't even walk into Verdant without a huge stamp on my hand and like, eight bracelets on both wrists."

"Come to think of it, a diuretic might even kill me at the moment. Better make it a Powerade with a raincheck on the beer."

TertiusHuman said:

John had nothing to say to that, but thinking back he had to grin at the sight of her ripping open her shirt to get ready. Any other man would most likely have checked out what she wore underneath. He would most likely have too if he wasn't busy getting himself mentally ready for an ass-whuppin. Realizing she might mis-intepret the sudden grin and his gaze lingering on her neck, he orced it from his lips.

Click to expand...

Yeah, that was--

--yeah, the guy looked like a damn lecherous vampire, looking at her neck like that, and suddenly she was reminded that he actually could sprout fangs when he went into what Felicity called "Beast Mode."

"Then again," she stared at him, askance, "you might be more thinking along the lines of a Bloody Mary."

ChasNicollette said:

Kara Zor-El, Earth name "Linda Lee Danvers," had vast superhuman senses at her disposal, but eyes in the back of her head weren't one of them. At best, the feeling of "being watched" was a pseudoscientific intuition.

But if Khaji Da scanned her, she felt no sensor wake wash up against her, heard no paraspectrum chatter. No particle sweep pinballing between her densely-packed molecules, not even a telltale prickle in her invulnerable bioelectric force-aura.

Also, for all her abilities, telepathy wasn't one of them. Sometimes if she squinted, she could perceive frequencies in the vicinity of 7 MHz, the approximate range of brainwaves and mind-control, but that wasn't quite the same thing.

One thing she did sense, however, was a certain distinctive creak of the eye muscles, first down then up again. The number of times she'd heard that in her life...

Maybe Artemis Crock was catnip? But Linda Danvers was Galadriel. Even certain otherwise cishet ladies and the like had been tongue-tied in her presence. And thus, she had no other context to assign to Jaime's scope-out of her silhouette. And she smiled, wry and faint, to herself.

At least he hasn't said anything about 'X-ray Vision' yet. If I had a nickel for every Tommy Monaghan that's laid that line on me...



"You almost placed yourself in worse than that, Jaime," Supergirl pointed out. "Going into a fight like that without your power source? You sure you weren't going for two near-death experiences for the price of one? I spent decades in suspended animation flying to Earth, I wouldn't go back under in such a hurry. You're lucky that 'silent treatment' doesn't always mean 'hates your guts.'"

She squinted, then, and glanced back at him. "Although I've had my share of textbook-enigmatic visions. They're always so stingy with the details. I don't suppose that still small voice in the storm was in any hurry to namedrop?"

Considering that, she shook her head. "Of course it wasn't. So you came looking for me."



"'Oldest and most powerful,'" Supergirl nodded, slow smile adorning her lips. "See, now you're just trying to flatter me. But there's a lot we don't know about the early history of my people-- there's a ferocious debate about who came first, us or The Daxamites. And I once heard that one of the big bullet-points in the detente between The Reach and The Guardians is that The Reach can't establish a foothold in a Sector where The Lantern Corps has an active presence. Krypton was in Sector 2813, which has had a long history of Lanterns-- right now it's a nice Xudarian kid named Tomar-Tu. His dad was okay too. We had beef, once, but we patched up before he passed on."

Her fingers played over the crystal console, and she ran her tongue over her teeth as Kryptonian script scrolled past in blue, red, and gold holographic coloumns.

"Sector 2814, however, didn't have an official Lantern Corps presence for, as far as I can tell, most of the Egyptian dynasties. There was a thing in China once, but that wasn't--"

She shook her head, looked back over at Jaime. "And we don't have one right now. Sector 2814, that's us, hasn't had a Lantern for... ten years? Hm. So I haven't had direct contact with The Reach, and neither have The Kryptonians."

"Just what I've got in the ol' intergalactic Wikipedia, here."



He really did have nice eyes. Mahogany, maybe sequoia.

Her wild-yonder eyes gazed contemplatively at him as she leaned against the console with her arms crossed over her bulletproof tummy.

"Well. I hate to say this. But while Green Lanterns are chosen for their ability to overcome fear, The Reach doesn't seem to be nearly so picky. In fact, their Infiltrator drones, no matter what form they take, seem to be meant to overwrite the sentience of their host, leave it on the cutting-room floor. They don't need their people to be anything special, because the Infiltrator's supposed to just... take over."

"Except you're dealing with an Infiltrator that got... 'interfered with.'"

"So maybe who you really need to talk to is whomever it is knocked your Scarab off-mode in the first place. Maybe they gave it some kind of guidance protocols that the original programming lacked? Which brings us back to your John-the-Baptist voice in the wilderness thing. That didn't give us any details."



"Mmm. No. Not one of my ancestors. Though I might not have put it past Kem-L, it really doesn't seem like his work."

She turned back to face the console, and, adjusting the position of a couple of crystals and flourishing her fingertips at superspeed over a keypad, she called up the search listing for the word "blue."

"Wavelength of the electromagnetic spectrum visible to humans... also represents hope in the emotional electromagnetic spectrum, I like that."

"...there's a footnote here about a planet called Odym, no more information, wonder what that's about..."

"...blue skies traditionally represent optimism in Earthling storytelling, unless you're a pluviophile..."

"...The Flash once had to put up with a guy called Cobalt Blue..."

"...Talokites are blue..."

"...Oans are blue..."

"...at least some people from Hellhole-- uh-- Garnet are blue..."

She shook her head. "There's potentially millions of entries here, enough that it would take even my speed-reading some time to sort it all. We need to narrow it down somehow."

Supergirl pursed her lips. "Have you tried talking to J'onn at all?"

Click to expand...

Jaime listened, watching her move around the familiar environment. When she was done talking and there was a pause for his input, he smiled wryly.

"So basically it doesn't matter what kind of person I was, or am, because the Reach just wanted me to be a meat puppet anyway. Maybe I should shut up and live with it. Or just finish dying and let everyone else go about their business."

He didn't realize that the smile had slipped when he said the last bit, though it had been meant to be humorous, at least in his own mind.

"I was supposed to talk to J'onn when I first got involved with the whole kidnapping crisis thing. But he sort of got busy and hasn't had time to talk to me."

Venom

He blinked. She was talking to him. It verged on bantering...wow. So she did catch the fact that he wasn't really looking at her face nor her body. Seems like the neck was not that neutral after all.

"Was hoping you'd say Powerade. I think we both have a need for that. Let's go grab some and then we can discuss that raincheck. I have a good ice box and there's quite a few vantage points where we can have a beer without you having to show I'd."

Shit! Shit! Shit! Did he just casually offer to break the law just to have drink with the hot Asian chick who could kill him just for looking at her legs? Well yeah he did offer, it was still her choice. He started to realize that he was still in his sweatpants, draping the towel around his neck, he picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. He turned back to face her,

"Let's go, saw a well stocked fridge just a few doors down the hall. It's not really buying a drink, but it is the same idea right?"

The children had fled the rundown middle school as it crumbled around them. 5 kids made it out with one of the teachers assistants. 6 out of 123. They had run through streets as buildings flowed like waves chasing them. And they had arrived here. At this rundown warehouse. It was all steel and tin, they hoped it would be safe. The only way they found in was through a broken window. And as they clambered in they found that it led only to the catwalks. There was a ladder down on the other side. As they began treadding across the open beams, they heard the voices before they saw the men.

"Listen, this shit is prime. They use it in all sorts of industrial shit. I think. Look it wouldn't be stockpiled like this if it weren't worth somethin' and with shit hittin the fan we's got to grab as much of anything as we can. Just lets get it out of here and then we can figure out whatever it is and worth okay?"

"Donny, you brought us on some shit jobs. The check joint that had no money left? But this takes it. You don't even know what the hell we came for? It could be anything. Frickin' cow shit for all you know and you dragged us down here with half the city collapsin' for what? A bunch of chemicals that may or may not be worth nothin?"

"Eel, you ain't the boss. I is. Now let's move." The bigger of the two men, Donny seemed to be in charge. And when he spoke two others came into view.

The kids froze, despite the young woman's best efforts. They weren't from the best neighborhood, and they recognized career criminals when they were confronted by them. And while these might not be the most successful, they were still not men these kids wanted to be caught by. They debated heading back but were afraid to move. Instead they all just stood like statues.

Until the first wave hit. The whole building began to sway. The tin walls vibrated and hummed like a giant tuning fork. One of the kids screamed as the teacher's assistant lost her balance and slipped, catching the beam on her way down.

As the scream echoed through the open grounds of the warehouse, Donny panicked.

"Out! Lets go! The place is goin' move!"

"Donny, that was a kid. What if they got hurt! We can't just leave em. Lets find em and then get out. Come on!"

While the remaining crooks took to running out, Eel O'Brian ran in. He quickly saw the teen dangling and her friends struggling to pull her to safety. As he sprinted up the ladder he muttered a small prayer under his breath.

Lookout! Lemme at her, I can help!" Eel slides to a stop beside the kids and grabs a hold of the teacher's arm. "Listen, my name's Eel, well, not really, but it's what everyone calls me. I am gonna get you outta here. What's yer name darlin'? Eel has both his long nimble hands wrapped around the panicking girls arms and his legs wrapped over the beam. "Listen, girlie, if you keep kickin and panicking, we are both goin' to fall. And those barrels, they don't look soft. Please. Take a breath. Tell me your name. Focus on me. I'll do the rest. The rest of you kids, get outta here. Now. Find help." The kids scurry back the way they came as Eel struggles to hold their friend.

The girl finally began to calm down as she felt the grip tighten on her arms. "My name is Renee. Please help me...."

Eel O'Brian was never the strongest guy. Or the toughest. He had used these things to his advantage his entire life by being quick witted and smart. But this was a situation he didn't think even his jokes would help. "Listen, Renee, not the best situation here. I mean, at least you ain't a cop, but Christ-on-crackers kid, not exactly something or someone like me would want to be a part of normally. Still. I ain't lettin go. You go, I go. I promise. Now, listen, I ain't got the upper body strength to lift you. We gotta find a better option. Look around help me think ok Renee."

The girl seems calmed by Eel, regardless of their peril. "Funny you mention cops. My grandma was a cop. My mom too. She died a year ago. Line of duty. You seem nice. For a badguy."

Hey, listen kid, I ain't no bad guy. I might be a crook, and I might not always be on the right side of the law, but I promise you, I ain't no bad guy. Look, where I come from, you either join in, or you become a victim. I ain't no ones victim. Lets not worry about that. You see a way outta this?"

Renee looks around as she is dangling. She looks down at the barrels, large steel drums from some place called Crawford something or other. It looked like the barrels were pretty old and had been here a while. Mostly dust covered. But they were only about 20ft down.

"Listen, it looks like the barrels are only about twenty feet down. Maybe you can lower me? Think you can get me a few feet closer before you let go?"

I don't like the idea of droppin you girlie. Whole point I ran up here was to stop that. Better idea? What if I use me as a counterweight? I tie my belt around your hands, and I lower me down? When you get up, there this broken post on the other side, must have been a light or somethin a long time ago, anyway, you loop the belt over the post thing and I climb back up. Better than droppin ya."

"What if you fall? What if you weigh too much and pull me with you?"

"If that last one happens, we're in the same boat, but maybe you have time to catch on the top. If the first happens, well, I died savin a cute damsel in distress. Best case for a mook like me anyway. And I ain't droppin' ya. I am gonna let go with one hand, undue my belt and loop it down. Hang on.

Eel O'Brian carefully shimmies his belt off and uses it to make a loop to lower down. As Renee slips her hand into the loop she looks up at her savior for the first time. "You know, you ain't so bad yourself. Not exactly the knight in shining armor type, but even in those ridiculous sunglasses, I can tell. I was wrong before. You are one of the good guys. No matter what happens, thank you for being my hero."

Eel's face turns a bright red as he looks away, slipping the belt around his hand and gripping it as tight as he can. He starts to shimy off the beam. As he lowers himself, she begins to rise. And as she gets to the top, Eel smiles. Not everyday a guy like him gets to be the hero. "You up there? Safe and sound?"

"I made it. I just gotta slide this onto the pole thing. It looks a little rusty though. I hope it holds."

Either way, we got you up. Not a total loss. Let me know when its on."

As Renee removes the strap from her wrist, she loses it. The weight pulling down is too much and she is tugged toward the edge. She tries desperately to loop it over the pole but as it catches the top, it snaps off. And Eel tumbles down. He crashes through the barrels, several breaking as he hits them with the full force of his fall. Renee screams out in horror, as she pulls herself to her feet. Her wrist throbbing from where the belt had slipped and she broke her wrist. She pelts for the ladder and hurries to the fallen man. He is barely awake as she pulls him from the broken and leaking barrels.

"Eel! Are you okay, say something!" She falls to her knees and cradles his body as she begins to cry. Her tears cascading down her face like a waterfall. All the emotion of the moment overwhelming her. "Please, Eel, you saved me. You have to be okay. Open that motormouth and say something! Anything!"

If this is it, I at least died in the arms of an angel. You were worth it." Eel mutters as his eyes flutter open for a moment behind the thick tinted glasses, he gazes into her eyes and smiles a broken lopsided grin. Better this way. Guys like me, we don't get girls like you. Not in this life time. Glad your okay."

With that Eel O'Brian loses consciousness. He never heard the siren. Didn't feel the paramedics and the fire department hoisting him onto the stretcher and loading him in the ambulance.

Teenagers & Rituals. (Supergirl)

Nevyn_Black said:

"So basically it doesn't matter what kind of person I was, or am, because the Reach just wanted me to be a meat puppet anyway. Maybe I should shut up and live with it. Or just finish dying and let everyone else go about their business."

He didn't realize that the smile had slipped when he said the last bit, though it had been meant to be humorous, at least in his own mind.

Click to expand...

She gazed at him quietly for a long, long moment. "Plans have a funny way of not working out. My mother and father sent me to Earth in hopes that I would take care of my baby cousin Kal, help him grow up. Only-- only I showed up late, and he-- never did. But I still try to do my best with how I ended up, saving the world that would have saved both of us."

Ache dashed across those blue blue eyes for a moment, and then she gestured to him. "The Reach planned for whoever received their Infiltrator to be a-- 'meat puppet'-- as you say. But that's not what happened, is it? You're still you. I'd say that matters a whole Hell of a lot, but that's just me."

Nevyn_Black said:

"I was supposed to talk to J'onn when I first got involved with the whole kidnapping crisis thing. But he sort of got busy and hasn't had time to talk to me."

Click to expand...

"Mm," Kara nodded, indestructible teeth grazing her impenetrable bottom lip. "You must know from experience that it's hard work keeping up a human life when you're doing a superhero's work on the side. J'onn's got dozens of human lives. But I'll do what I can to help you track him down. His insight should prove invaluable in this."

"Good Guys Don't Always Wear White." (Artemis/Vixen)

TertiusHuman said:

He blinked. She was talking to him. It verged on bantering...wow. So she did catch the fact that he wasn't really looking at her face nor her body. Seems like the neck was not that neutral after all.

"Was hoping you'd say Powerade. I think we both have a need for that. Let's go grab some and then we can discuss that raincheck. I have a good ice box and there's quite a few vantage points where we can have a beer without you having to show I'd."

Click to expand...

It was a funny little hypocrisy, wasn't it? Artemis considered, even as she hugged her towel a little closer around her throat as though to shield it from his (blood)lust? ...it wasn't so long ago that costumed vigilantism was as illegal as underage drinking, and even if masking up and beating down was still illegal, she'd still be right out there in it. She could flaunt that law, but not the one that said she could have something to cool her blood and take the edge off the world for a little while?

It was different, it was a different thing, of course it was, there were actual biological rationales for not having young people drink-- but all the same-- it was kind of him to offer.

...vampire or not, his seduction technique was so down-home and country-song she almost forgave him for looking at her jugular like he wanted to chug-ular.

He really was a good guy, wasn't he? What was that Bon Jovi song?

Agh, emotions were stupid.

TertiusHuman said:

He started to realize that he was still in his sweatpants, draping the towel around his neck, he picked up his shirt and shrugged it on. He turned back to face her,

"Let's go, saw a well stocked fridge just a few doors down the hall. It's not really buying a drink, but it is the same idea right?"

Click to expand...

As he turned back to face her, he might glimpse her swiftly averting her eyes-- toooootally not scoping out his back muscles, nuh-uh --and pulling her suit jacket back on in the absence of her destroyed shirt. "Raincheck and a placeholder. It's a date."

And she actually outright grinned at him then-- a rare ray of sun through shuttered windows --before scooping up her shoes and stepping out into the hall.

When they got to that kitchen, however, they found Mari McCabe perched on top of the aforementioned fridge, still stuck in her osprey chimera form and eating tuna out of a can with a plastic fork looking forlorn.

"So we're out of sushi, apparently. I could fly out and get some but you know how they look at you at those places when you show up part bird."

She gestured to a cupboard. "There's more Bumblebee in there if you want in. Dolphin safe."

Artemis stared up at her for a moment, absolutely and completely on her back foot, she thought cats were bad but this was a whole 'nother flava, "No. Thanks."

...and tried desperately, awkwardly, the moment was gone, to not look like the last sentence she'd said was "It's a date" to a decidedly attractive but complicated male.

Venom

He never thought that he'd see Artemis...what was her name? taken aback. But then again he had to look twice as well, sitting on the fridge where the promised relief of cool energy drinks was locked inside, there sat a woman...bird...womanbird...birdwoman...wobird? A blink or two and he had sorted that little image out, just one thing that was really, truly frustrating was the fact that the "moment" was gone. It had literally taken him weeks to gather up the nerve to actually get to talk to Artemis and now after having had a good sparring session, working out a lot of kinks and knots in the process. He had even earned a grin, one so natural and real that he could have fallen in love with just the person she seemed to be in that moment.

All of it gone because an ospreywomanbirdthingy was where they wanted to be. He hid the sigh, and stepped passed Artemis to the fridge, "Well I prefer my meat red and with loads of greens, so I will pass on the canned fish thanks. 'Scuze me."

He opened the door, took out four of the pint bottles of Powerade, tossed two to Artemis, saw that in one of the door shelves there was a myriad of chocolate and energy bars. He'd replace them at some stage. Taking six of the energy bars, he bumped the door closed with his elbow and with a wry grin at the ... wobird! he stepped away, dumping the candy bars on the counter next to Artemis.

"Please excuse me ladies, I have a need for a shower now." Snagging one of the energy bars, he got the hell out of Dodge while the going was still good. Sauntering down the hallway, he stripped the energy bar of wrapping and took a huge bite, flipping open the bottle to take a long drag on the cool drink inside.

Better, but still geeky

'Cant' rush things like this'

Oh? You planning the marry her? Start a family?

John pointedly ignored that remark...but now that the symbiote brought it up...a family would be a nice. But then again as long as the symbiote was part of him and the Mirakura kept running through his bloodstream, there was no way of realizing that idea.

Good. Getting smarter the longer we stay together.

And John knew that there was no chance of them separating, not if he wanted to keep on living.