Justice League: The New Wave (IC)

Welcome to Hell.

Ignoring The Arrow and Raven, The Rider continued onward. They could stop and play chess with the newcomer if they wanted. It was better that way. They’d be less of a distraction, and the Son of Adam would survive this.

And that’s what both Raven and Xarathos wanted. For the Human to survive.

Crossing over the rubble, Xarathos looked between the buildings at the new group. What a ragged pile of shit. Yippy joy they even had the band back together. Here comes Camelot to save the day, again. Didn’t work last time the Table Round all played the field. Hell, she still remember the feel of when Artur sank that blade between her ribs. Hurt like a bitch.. and he snapped the blade in half.

Constantly holding back, refusing to unleash their full potential. Refusing to unleash their powers. Hold back and let evil win. Sometimes you had to do a bad thing and rip a head from it’s shoulders to save billions.

Sometimes you had to revolt to stop being a slave.

You just had to pay the piper if you lost.

Pausing at the top of the rubble she locked eyes with the one in black hanging to the rear. Renegade. They had history those two, and now the bitch had a way to keep the Rider at bay. A token of betrayal. But that was fine, for now. One day there would be a reckoning, and the Rider would have Vengeance. Personal and Divine.

And there she waited, her eyes tracking across the group of innocence and thugs, until she found the summoner of evil and enslaver of the damned.

The ambiguous duo (tag Rider)

The careful observer might have noticed that the idle doodles hanging in the air -- little tears in creation oozing the Void -- formed a probabilistic cloud or markovian corridor between where Kiz was now and where he'd started. If the most likely vector through the probabilistic corridor was drawn, it would extend along a parabolic curve that eventually connected through the point in space and time where the Rider now stood. Of course, that line kept it's arc going until it intersected with an apple tree all the way in New Brighton. If one where of the occult mindset, they might point out that all three points (Kiz, the Rider, and the Apple Tree) lied along a particularly strong Ley Line. A Ley Line that didn't used to run through Central City Stadium, but one which had been bent with considerable effort to do so now.

It was a simplistic, ritualistic formulary attuned to the harmonic resonance of the hellish planes of existence. It had not yet been more finely tuned to any particular entity beyond the general frequencies at which such creatures existed.

Kiz clapped his hands three times and inclined his head towards the Rider. It would be nice to be able to depend upon at least Rose if things turned ugly, but she'd be useless with her fear of fire. However, that could draw the Solar Incarna, Karan, in by proxy, which might not be too bad. And hey, the Atlantean sure loved to wave his trident around. That might be good for a few seconds of distraction. And the Rider wasn't manifesting her panoply, so that was a good sign. Kiz could never tell with direct celestial infusions how sane the symbiosis was after several thousands of years. The Timelords hadn't spent too much of their time on the matter after it had been determined that on the net, Xarathos was doing more benefit than harm. Plus there were the political ramifications of meddling with the Silver Host and their machinations.

Once Len had told him and the other Heroes had confirmed, Kiz had spent almost as much time trying to remember what he knew about the Rider as he did about the upcoming confrontation with the Bestowed.

"Hail Rider." Kiz lifted Havel's shield, flexing his left hand around the straps binding it to his forearm. He hit his right palm on the face of the shield three more times. "What judgement do you pass?" He kept the Key Dagger clipped to his right hip. If it came to blows, all hell was going to break lose. And Kiz had decided awhile ago that while these Heroes seemed like nice enough people, he was just too tired to hold back. The Key Dagger was only useful for puncturing the dome and scooping out pieces of Ravana. He'd need the Lasher Staff and the full manifestation of Jörmungandr if he was to keep the Rider down for long. But he'd fought many Deathless over the years, so he wasn't afraid for another confrontation with one. He'd never been. Not even when he'd walked into the heart of the Nadeau all those years ago.

Sing me a song of a Lass that is gone...

kizkiz said:

"Hail Rider." Kiz lifted Havel's shield, flexing his left hand around the straps binding it to his forearm. He hit his right palm on the face of the shield three more times. "What judgement do you pass?"

Click to expand...

Rolling it’s neck the Rider looked at Kiz, the flaming figure silent as it evaluated and judged. The flames flashed and were gone, a leather clad, and obviously female standing there, Wisps of smoking smoldering on her clothing.

“You have been found Guily of a great many crimes against nature. But you are neither human nor of Earth, and as such – not our problem. Summon, bind, enslave all the demons, and their ilk you wish. Just don’t try it on me. I have another purpose, and will not be swayed from my task.”

Sighing she closed hidden eyes wondering, just wondering if this one could actually destroy her. End this Hellish existence once and for all. Maybe she should push him, put him to the test. And not fight back. Let him blow her to Kingdom Come. She’d either be done for all time, or she’d come back and remove him from humanities path.

But not today.

She looked from Wonder Girl to Miss Martian to Aquaman. Even though he was still so damned young. Her flickering eyes took in the Rogues (all three of them) and Nightwing in the back. “Do what you’re going to do, but fight together – or I’ll see you in Hell. They’ll use your powers against you, mimic and duplicate. Copy and Paste.. so keep out of range, and drop them from a distance. They haven’t managed to duplicate me, yet, but I don’t care.”

Cracking her knuckles she lifted her Hellgun and gave a nod. “I probably will never see any of you alive again, so good luck. And so far.. only one of you is going to burn in Hell.” Turning her back on them she was engulfed in flaming plate and chain armor before she was done speaking.

The Mortals would either live, or die, she’d given them warning.

Time to play the pipes and pay the piper.

She wished that at least one of them could sing. A good solid death dirge would be nice right now.

Hey Ho The gangs all here~ Tag All

Velocity had been about to go out on her first sweep when she spotted the figure upon some rubble between the buildings. It looked like nothing they had faced before and in fact like nothing she had ever seen before.

It was a large figure in ancient looking armor, glowing in what looked like fire. Not the friendliest of sorts and one she immediately tagged as hostile.

She was about to bring it to the attention of the others when Kiz called out to it.

"Hail Rider." Kiz lifted Havel's shield, flexing his left hand around the straps binding it to his forearm. He hit his right palm on the face of the shield three more times. "What judgement do you pass?"

She was puzzled for a second before she realized that one, he knew who it was, and two he was treating it as a friendly.

Still who this guy thought was friendly and who actually was could be two different things. She decided to take a closer look at the situation.

Running off she quickly made a full sweep near the person???

Besides the Rider, there was two more people, an Archer dressed in green and a girl in a purple cloak, neither of which she had ever seen before. However there were no signs of any Ninja's or other creatures around.

Returning to the group she stopped beside Aquaman, seeming to appear from thin air.

"Besides the Rider, there is a Girl in purple and a Archer. No sign of any goons though."

Felis catus is as Felis catus does

Garfield looked from the one to to the other as they brought a slight squabble to the fray only to be silenced by Aquaman. This bode ill. He still needed a signature though, he wondered if Nightwing would... One glance told him that it would not happen. Velocity showed up with a report just as big,bald... Kiz was it? Yes Kiz moved forward, taking point so to speak. Much like a cheetah hunt, just...slower.

"Well, let's hope the chick in leather is wrong."

He shifted into a domestic cat (yes Felis catus) and loped off to fill the position they have assigned him to.

Why domestic cat?

How many times have you actually paid attention to stray cats? Since they are so well represented in human establishments and know how to sneak, Garfield decided that the best sneaker at this time would be a cat.

He scanned the way forward and then moved into the shadows to wait for the other to start their own advance.

Swing your partner around and around! (Tag nobody or everybody)

Kiz didn't really much care for the Rider's judgement, but he still had enough presence of mind to dance with the partners that had come to this particular dance. With formalisms over and some assurances as to the lucidness of the symbiosis, Kiz turned back to his...well hobby wouldn't be a great way to put it, but it passed the time. He was building a sort of secret tunnel along the Ley Line as a way to mask his presence and keep an effective escape route open should the need present itself. Much like how the Rogue's rode in Lisa's belly, Kiz and anyone that wanted to join him (not that he'd invited anyone after Kaldur's annoying rant) would enjoy some privacy at least. It'd also shoot anything back towards the apple tree in New Brighton if they started moving in that direction in much the same way a Gatling Gun worked. So some amount of instruction would be helpful to anyone that joined him, but he both doubted anyone would and he was all done explaining things for today.

Someone like an apprentice perhaps might ask, 'Kiz why did you attune to demonic frequencies when building your secret little sling shot tunnel through time and space along one of Earth's most ancient and sacred spiritual highways?' And Kiz would just shrug and say, 'Because I can.' Although that wouldn't be the real reason, it sounded badass enough. And that was the types of cryptic bullshit you were supposed to tell apprentices to expand their minds. But no one did, so Kiz continued his doodles alone and in silence.

FLASH BACK - What Kiz was up to before arriving on Earth

Andrea wiped blood from her brother’s forehead. She frowned, rummaging around in a rucksack at her hip. She combined a scoop of deer fat with sage and queen’s lace. She whispered a prayer to the Dark Mother but had no energy to call upon the darkness. It wasn’t enough to heal him but his bleeding slowed, and he could see.

The woods were silent and the air cold. Drifts of snow pressed against trees in all-directions. The night poured forth starlight. The moon was still new. She circled quickly but just saw more drifts of snow and skeletal trees. She felt for a way but found none. The forest had retreated from her.

Her brother grunted, brining his hand up to his left ribs and came away with still more blood. “Not good sis.” The blood in his hands was thick and black, congealing in the winter air. He inhaled in a short, jerky motion and took up his sword in his left hand. It was shattered at the tip.

“Annie,” a soft voice said from the shadows nearby. “This way quickly. I’ll hold them off.”

“NO!” Andrea screamed at the darkness nearby. “It’ll be your soul.”

“We are all lost, Annie. Its just a question of when.”

The quiet of the forest was broken as a few new slumped forms shambled through the drifts of snow. The blackness near her burst towards the undead warriors. “Go,” it hissed as it passed her and slammed into the crowd of zombies. Blades flashed as it cut through the arm of one and blocked another’s rusted sword. It made quick work of the squad, but two more groups had approached during the course of the fight.

“We make a stand here then,” her brother said, broken sword wavering in the air for a moment before slumping into the snow. He grunted, brining the sword back up into the air. More blood soaked through his leather armor, and he was forced to remove his right hand to steady the broken sword.

Andrea looked around at the two converging groups of undead. “Mother!” she screamed, “Protect the last of your line!” The blackness protecting her was already meeting the first group of undead. Her brother took another labored step towards the other, setting himself to take on their onslaught.

The darkness moved in quick movements between the undead warriors. It wielded its two blades to great effect, flickering between the bodies. Its skill was clear but the undead were relentless and losing body parts didn’t deter them. He took a head and the body continued clubbing its rusted weapon in the air. Another lost a forearm at the elbow and a chunk of its lower leg, still it clamored and clawed at the darkness.

Her brother was much less effective. It was all he could do to deflect the other group as they came at him with rusted sword, mace, hammer, and spear. They lacked any skill, but her brother had no more stamina. His blade caught in the shoulder of the second undead he felled, his labored movements left him open to the rusted spear of a third zombie.

Andrea cast about looking for any sign. She saw more undead lumbering through drifts of snow further back and behind them still more. Even further in the distance after yet another wave of them was one a ragman. He had the semblance of a man but was wrapped in layer upon layer of rags. A ragman could move with inhuman speed and grace, bits of rag lashing out like tentacles. It was the Necromancer’s greatest creation, and this one had been hunting them for years.

She searched deep within herself for the well of her power, but it was dry. Stray bits of energy were seeping through the soil and given a few days might permeate in sufficient quantity to work a miracle or answer a prayer. There just wasn’t enough time. They never had enough time to rest. They’d lost so many, and here it would all end. She ran to her brother’s side.

Her brother could only grunt as the wound from the rusted spear dribbled blood. Andrea could do little with no weapon, so she kicked the zombie holding the spear in the face. Its head snapped backwards, teeth flying from its mouth. “This is going to hurt,” she said from clenched teeth as she wrapped her hands around the haft of the spear and tugged it from her brother. She had nothing left to bind his wound. Instead, she spun with the spear and used it as a club to pound at the skull of another zombie.

Her brother’s sword caught an ax blade by the last zombie and spun around the haft. He caught the zombie’s hand with the edge of his blade and used the leverage of the haft to slice through the palm and through the back of the hand. The ax wavered, unable to be held with only one hand. Adrea jabbed the spear’s tip into the empty eye socket of the last zombie and pushed until it sunk through the socket, past the rotted brain, and burst out the back of the skull. The body toppled backwards, and Andrea released her grip. She turned and caught her brother’s body as he sunk to his feet.

“Nox!” she called, and the darkness contracted and approached her. It consolidated into a humanoid form that compressed on itself until it was roughly the shape of a man.

“Here,” Nox whispered and lifted her brother up to his feet. She glanced back towards the next wave of zombies. “We must press on, Annie.”

She shrugged. “I can’t hear the Dark Mother anymore. I have no power left.” She exhaled a gout of white air.

“The ragman has slowed,” Nox replied.

Held up by Nox, her brother’s head had slumped against Nox’s shoulder. Her brother seemed to be concentrating on staying awake. “Go,” he dribbled out.

Andrea turned and watched the ragman held in place as a large raven circled over its head and then canted to one side and glided past the huge wave of zombies shambling through the snow. The raven turned once more on a current of air and slid between the next wave, smaller at maybe fifty. The raven turned once more and flew between that wave and the one nearest. This next wave would be twenty. Sufficient to overwhelm Nox and kill her brother, probably herself too. She glanced back at Nox and her brother’s slumped form. They should leave her brother behind and try to make better time. Its possible they might slip the ragman again. They’d been forced to leave so many friends and family behind to escape the relentless onslaught of the deathless. Nox never forced the decision on her. It would calmly follow her orders, even if it meant to its annihilation.

She turned and lowered her shoulder to the wind. She lost count of the drifts she plunged through. She lead the way with Nox and her brother following. She couldn’t bring herself to look behind. Her brother was near dead and the zombies did not tire. They were months from any civilization or ally. There was no point to look back.

“They will be upon us soon,” Nox whispered behind her.

She didn’t look behind herself. She ignored its warning. She swung her eyes from side to side, looking for any sign. Something had to be there. Time after time, she saw nothing. Drift upon drift of snow besides yet another nameless tree trunk. This forest was dead to her. She blinked her eyes against the silver glare the starlight caused.

“Here,” Nox said, placing her brother’s body against hers. He felt so heavy. She felt no warmth. There was no hot steam washing over her face from his. She caught Nox dissolving into darkness and then leaving her field of view. She heard his blades catch upon frozen flesh and rusted iron.

She stumbled on as the sounds receded. It was much slower with her brother. He was so heavy. His legs didn’t move anymore. She was forced to drag him, one arm around his torso, the other steadying their weight. She tumbled into the snow over and over. Each time she was slower to get to her feet. Still she searched. There had to be something.

Something finally caught her attention. She half turned her head but it was gone. She stumbled towards it. Through more snow, clinging in ever growing amounts to their bodies. With each drift of snow to push through, her grip on him slackened. Each drift brought a bit more distance between them. She wiped a mass of sweat frozen hair from her face, pushing it back under her fur hood. Maybe she’d imaged whatever it was. Something brown walking away from her in the distance, but she caught it again just out of sight. She turned again to re-orientate herself. She could no longer hear Nox nor anything else. The forest was completely silent except for her panting breath and the crunch of snow as she stumbled on. Again and again, she caught sight of something, maybe a man, walking just out of sight.

She stumbled and rolled down a large mound of snow. She landed in a heap, snow half burying her body. Her brother’s body tumbled down the hill on top of her. One of her legs got stuck beneath the drift of snow twisted around something frozen. She jerked her stuck leg a few times, but it was held fast. She laid there against the snow looking up at the sky. First one breath and then another passed like white steam into the air.

“Get up Annie,” Nox whispered.

She blinked and propped her head up, rolling onto her elbow. A few stray flakes of snow trailed lazily down from the trees above. They hung in the air, rolling around on the currents. As she blinked through the snowfall, a frozen hand reached for her. It inched closer and closer. She watched it, waiting for Nox to emerge from the darkness, blade cutting through the frozen flesh. She waited but it didn’t come. The fingers continued to creep along the snow towards her.

“Get up.”

She pushed her hand into the snow. Her other hand followed. Muscle churned against the cold. Pieces of herself heaved. She rose up to her knees. The zombies had caught up to her. Something still clung to her foot. She looked down at her brother, his skin much too pale. Walking through the horde of zombies was the ragman. It moved on top of the snow without disturbing a piece of it. It left no trail. Snarled in rags was the limp form of Nox, mostly humanoid.

“Hello miss Andrea,” it hissed. “Your darkling was insufficient.”

Andrea glanced down at her brother and then back up at the ragman. “So?”

It dropped Nox to the ground. “Why don’t you run?”

Andrea shrugged, gesturing to her right leg. “Caught in a bear trap, I think.”

It chuckled in dry rasps. “In the end, your own people betray you.”

“Yeah, barrel of laughs.” She shrugged. “So what now?”

“I take you to my master. Alive or dead.” It turned its head the other way, mass of rags unfurling and contracting with his movements.

“Noo…” Nox let out. A quiet whisper in her ear. It struggled within the confines of the rags entangling its body. The ragman turn its head down to regard Nox. The ragman whipped its other arm across its body, snarling Nox’s body in both hands. With barely any pause, the ragman lifted Nox’s body above its head. Then it ripped both of its arms away from each other, taking half of Nox’s substance with each arm. Its rags uncoiled and let the remains of Nox fall to the ground.

Andrea watched silently. There wasn’t anything left inside of her.

In a blur the ragman closed the space between them without disturbing a single piece of snow. Its head looked down at her caught leg and again rags shot down into the snow. She felt them like dry leaves rasping against her skin. Whatever caught her leg snapped and released her. The rags retracted. The ragman lifted her and her brother’s lifeless body in either arm. The zombies that had surrounded her began to slowly turn their corpses and wander away. Distantly she heard the caw of a raven.

Then suddenly there was another caw much closer. She tilted her head to try and look, but the ragman had already taken off at a sprint over the snow, dragging their bodies with its inhuman speed. The snow was powdery. With its rags wrapped around most of her right arm and neck, there wasn’t much pain. It reminded her of being pulled on a toboggan as a kid. As they glided up and over another snowdrift, she caught sight of a large raven sitting amongst the dead branches of an overhead tree. She used the last spark of her power to sharpen her vision. This caused the ragman to pause and shake her body like a doll. “Do not try to escape.”

With her vision eagle-like, she could make out more details of the raven. It was twice the size of a normal battlefield bird. Her eyes trailed along the outline of feathers of blackest obsidian that cast its body in hard metallic lines. The raven’s claws were like small blades, half dug into the frozen wood of the tree’s branch. It opened its spear-like beak and bleated out another cry. This one was sharper almost angry to her ears. She could make out the edge of its need. It was something deep and endless.

“It is only one,” the ragman said. It didn’t seem to be talking to her. “No, I can kill it or retreat as you command.” Its head twisted around 180 degrees to regard the raven with two pinprick glowing red embers.

She wasn’t paying attention to the ragman, but rather to another raven her vision had caught a few hundred yards away. This raven seemed to be ducking its head to peck at something held in its talons. Like a wood pecker, it brought its head up and down to pierce and then rip at the prize it held. Whatever it held was red and glittering. It was the eyes that so intrigued her though. They were small steel grey discs floating in mercury.

“Very well-“ the ragman started to say, but was caught off.

“I wouldn’t.” A man had just appeared below the raven in the nearby snow. He was tall, wearing nothing but leather trousers and a massive fur coat. The coat hung partially open, and she could make out several tattoos. Part of a woman’s body was curled around his heart amongst pale thorns. Two armored men flanked either side of his ribs. Bits and pieces of several different animals hung down from his shoulders.

“What?” The ragman said, apparently as confused as she was.

“Oh,” he said gesturing up at the raven overhead with some sort of shillelagh. “Attack them. They are quite upset already.”

“Two of them are no bother human.” It rasped back. The ragman uncoiled its arms from her and her brother’s bodies. She slumped to the snow like her brother.

“Oh,” the man said, “I wouldn’t do that either.” He began to twirling the shillelagh around his thick fingers, rolling it like a baton along first one hand and then the other.

Andrea couldn’t understand exactly what they were talking about. She was cold, tired, hungry, and thirsty. She turned her head to the side to look at her brother. With her heightened vision she could make out every detail of his face. She could count the number of pores on his frostbit face. Trace the beginning and end of every line and scar or inspect the unique pattern of each snowflake in his hair. With all of her visual acumen, she could find no sign of life.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the ragman’s body coil and explode in the direction of the newcomer. She wouldn’t have lifted her head, preferring to let the snow leach the last of her life away. Except the impact of the ragman as it hit the tree sent a clap of thunder reverberating through the dead forest. The trunk cracked and splintered into shards along the lines of its frozen core. The effort of lifting her head was almost too much, but it was worth it. The ragman’s body lay tangled amongst the wreckage of the tree for a moment. She could find no trace of the man. Its body sputtered back to animation, flicking away hundred pound pieces of wood with no trace of effort. It was again on its feet. This is how the Necromancer had concurred so much. Sure the zombies were bad. Fighting your dead mother and little sister was a mind fuck, their inhumane stamina and undying body parts could weary a duo of soldiers in short time. Still, you could cope with it after a while. Fire worked okay. Much better before the eternal blizzard, but still it worked with some effort. But how do you kill the animated death shrouds of a thousand warriors? Something that moved with the speed and power of all those fallen heroes?

“Like I was saying,” the man’s voice filled the silence. She had to twist her head around. Somehow the man was now sitting above her about thirty feet up the tree. He was casually kicking his two feet back and forth. She watched his calf muscles bunch and release with each pendulum swing of a leg. He had a leather shoe on either foot. He had his shillelagh against his right shoulder. She could make out more detail of the other end, which looked like the roots of a molar. In that respect she revised her opinion. It was more like a trident with the top part the handle of a cane.

The ragman burst forward. Snow sprayed for twenty feet behind it. Its body was more an afterimage, the pain of its passage over her legs registering seconds after it had passed over her and up the tree. It tore limbs from the tree with the casual ease of a child ripping handfuls of grass from the ground. They landed all about her. Some hit her. It hurt. The sound took several more seconds to reach her. The ragman slowly slid down the bough of the tree; its head swiveled in several complete circles. “Hmmm,” it said.

She caught sight of the man the same time the ragman did. The man was leaning against another tree several yards away. The cane-thing was being gripped by the handle area, leaving the three roots exposed parallel to the ground. “Because I am in an even worse mood.” More ravens appeared now. She counted a total of thirteen. They were scattered throughout the surrounding trees. “And you’ve pissed off the Nadeau even more.” As the raven’s took flight for the ragman, the ragman burst forward again at the tree the man was leaning against. It impacted with another crack of thunder, spraying frozen tree pieces everywhere. The ragman was slowed just long enough for the raven’s to descend upon its body. They ripped chunks of rag and then carted off with their prizes to distant tree branches. She’d seen an entire regiment of knights assault a ragman, they had all died and the ragman hadn’t lost a piece of itself.

“I suppose it doesn’t hurt.” The man said, standing behind her. He knelt down. This close up she could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. He lowered one large hand down to cup her face. It felt hot and sent electricity down the side of her face. Her eyes rolled back, and her spine arched. Heat began pouring from that hand spreading fever along her flesh. It started from her cheek but rolled along her chin, down her neck, and along her right arm. It was more than warmth and comfort. Her eyes snapped open. It was power. Her well was overflowing with it. She felt the careful walls she’d built to keep her connection to the Dark Mother begin to crack. It was too much. The heat and electricity spread through every part of her body and begin to ooze out of her pores. “Eh,” the man said, removing his hand from her face. She was panting, the snow around her melted to the frozen dirt below. She staggered to her feet. “I didn’t realize you were so weak.”

Weak? She felt limitless. The man was gone. She ran to her brother, laying a hand upon his brow and another along the spear wound. “Dark Mother,” she whispered lowering her head. Her hat was gone, and her hair fell over her face in a long copper mess. “Bring life to my kin.” She drew from her well of power and now it flowed through her veins. Her hands warmed and she pushed that warmth into her brother’s body. First his blackened skin mellowed to browns and reds. Still she poured more of her power into his body, tracing the skein of his body. She found each damaged cell and coaxed it to life. She transformed the frostbite flesh to scar tissue and nurtured the skin below. The spear wound vomited bits of rusted iron and rot as the hole receded in size and depth. She slid her hand to his shattered ribs and pieced together the broken puzzle of his bones. She lowered her lips to his forehead and gave him a soft kiss. “Come back to me my brother. We are not done yet.” And her brother’s eyes fluttered open.

He raised his hand up to her arm and gripped her hard. “Was I asleep long?” He asked.

“Not long stupid boy.” She chuckled and punched him on the arm. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him.

“Mhmmm,” her brother said, wrapping his other arm around her as well. “Why do I feel so warm? I remember freezing my ass off.”

“Another blessing. I cast the wind and cold away.” She said, disentangling from him and helping him to his feet.

He staggered a little, shaking his head. “I thought the Dark Mother had stopped listening.” He held his hand up to his face, squinting his eyes closed tight.

Distantly they heard another crack of thunder, followed a few moments later but another and then another. By the time they climbed out of the snow and where on their feet again, neither the ragman, the ravens, nor the stranger were around. The devastation was amazing, like a troop of cave bears in a berserk frenzy had assaulted all the nearby trees. Branches and chunks of frozen log lay everywhere. Here and there were bits of tattered cloth. They still moved as if live.

“By all that is holy, what happened?” Her brother said, making a slow circle of the area. Even as he said it, he’d stalked over to the nearest trunk and was inspecting it. He flitted from broken trunk to broken trunk. “Was this the ragman in action?” His voice trailed off as he inspected the snow and laid a hand in several tracks. He shook his head and moved to a torn branch.

Andrea was opening herself up to the Dark Mother. “Shade of night, creature of black, return my guardian.” She took a handful of black goat hair and coiled them into a small loop. She closed her eyes and raised the loop to her forehead and then slipped it into her mouth. The hair mixed with her saliva and formed a dark paste. She spat it into her left palm and wrote several glyphs in the shadow of the remaining tree. They were black night with dark shadow. She once more called upon the Dark Mother. “Dearest Mother, let not Nox fall from me.” As she finished, she rolled the snow beneath the glyphs up into a ball and compacted it with her power into a small grayish chunk of ice.

“C’mon Simon,” she called, “Help me track back the way we came. We might be able to save Nox if we arrive in time.”

Her brother trotted over to her through the snow. He’d gathered several long, straight pieces of wood. They’d serve as weapons.

Make me Lose my Breath.

Kiz and The Rider locked eyes, and the universe held its breath.

Even Kaldur'ahm felt both his lungs and his gills contract for a moment, hesitant in this turning point, his sea-grey eyes pleading with The Rider to do the right thing.

Indeed, the scrying gaze of The Bestowed at their power-nexus was itself breathless in anticipation.

Heatwave's breath caught in his throat at the sight of The Rider, but this was perhaps of a different kind of breathlessness.

But then the moment passed into the past.

The Rider deemed Kiz the Void Binder outside of its jurisdiction. Though the Presence's presence was felt throughout Creation-- all 52 flavors and then some --even the spectral embodiment of Its Vengeance was beholden to a law of a certain letter.

And Kiz-- though The Bestowed's vision of him was occluded now by the seemingly-idle fingerpainting he'd performed on the fabric of spacetime --decided that if The Rider was rational enough to make such judgment calls, she didn't need to be shackled to his dermis.

Their clash would have been epic to behold, but would have done Kobra's forces no small number of favors.

It was decidedly for the benefit of this fledgling Justice League and their posse of newcomers that that battle did not take place.

Their problems were, of course, not yet over.

Varshanka said:

“Do what you’re going to do, but fight together – or I’ll see you in Hell. They’ll use your powers against you, mimic and duplicate. Copy and Paste.. so keep out of range, and drop them from a distance. They haven’t managed to duplicate me, yet, but I don’t care.”

Click to expand...

The Bestowed, as bloodmages, were specialists of a sort. They had been able to duplicate Raven's powers because they had resided in her blood, inherited from the extradimensional archdemon Trigon. The Rider, on the other hand, transcended corporeality, and its powers were beyond their access.

But what of Kaldur'ahm, whose Atlantean heritage was mixed with that of Black Manta, a genetically-altered human?

What of Rose Walker, whose blood was changing every day as it passed through the Pale Martian heart embedded in her chest in time of Dream?

...what of Garfield Logan, dubbed Beast Boy, whose power flowed not just in his altered genetics but from a link to the bloodwell of all animalkind, The Red?

Of course, all of these blood-powered shenanigans were only possible in close proximity to that nexus of power they had created at the sports arena. Away from that, The Bestowed would be limited to their admittedly deadly repertoire of blood-conjuring and alchemy.

And yet it was into that nexus that The League must proceed to sever the bindings that allowed these Bestowed to project power upon their fellow mages from afar.

This could be interesting.

Varshanka said:

Cracking her knuckles she lifted her Hellgun and gave a nod. “I probably will never see any of you alive again, so good luck. And so far.. only one of you is going to burn in Hell.” Turning her back on them she was engulfed in flaming plate and chain armor before she was done speaking.

Click to expand...

There came a kind of "not it" moment, a number of their number looked at each other, wondering who she meant.

TertiusHuman said:

"Well, let's hope the chick in leather is wrong."

Click to expand...

Beast Boy opined, before transitioning into your average housecat-- albeit one of a striking Lincoln green.

"She better be right, and she better mean me," Heatwave growled emphatically, perhaps inevitably.

Varshanka said:

She wished that at least one of them could sing. A good solid death dirge would be nice right now.

Click to expand...

Ruby could sing a bit. She was no Adele. But she'd taken up deejaying as a hobby some time ago and sometimes she sang along with her mixes.

Rose had always loved music. Along with reading-- and her more recent fascination with film and television --she could quote song lyrics like some people could quote Scripture, and with the same conviction. What she hadn't realized yet was that the ability to shapeshift your voicebox into near-limitless configurations and the ability to sustain breath functionally forever potentially made her one of the most versatile and powerful singers in the universe. If only her conscious mind could remember the mournful, hopeful Songs of The Sands sung since ancient days on Ma'aleca'andra-- that would be about perfect.

(Properly trained and disciplined and attentive Kryptonians could assert conscious control over involuntary functions of their bodies-- this was how they could suppress or direct sneezes so that frailer species around them weren't popped like balloons, among certain other, ahem, discharges. Hypothetically this meant that Karan might be able to hit and sustain some outrageous notes herself with impossible vocal-cord mastery, like a whistle only dogs could hear, or deep into elephantine infrasound.)

But all of this was idle noise.

There were more reunions to be had yet.

Aussie_Wolf said:

Returning to the group she stopped beside Aquaman, seeming to appear from thin air.

"Besides the Rider, there is a Girl in purple and a Archer. No sign of any goons though."

Click to expand...

Between this report of a girl in purple, and the feeble signal on Kaldur's T-Comm, this had to mean Raven. Though the Archer was still a mystery to him.

Aquaman nodded gratefully to Velocity. "Thank you for your recon. Please return to the violet-hooded woman... I believe that she is Raven. Ask her to rendezvous with us, and quickly. If she protests because you are a stranger, tell her I said 'Happy Blorthog.' Perhaps this will annoy her, but she will know it is from a friend."

A meeting of Minds~ Tag Raven, Arrow, Static

Velocity nodded at Aquaman and looked at where the Rider now stood. It seemed she wasn't going to do anything to harm anyone at the moment so she might as well take the direct route.

Taking off she sped towards where she had last spotted the two figures.It didn't take her long to find them still making their way steadily towards were the others were now waiting. In fact she estimated they were only about five minutes away if they walked normally.

Of course no one was walking normally in here, not even her. Even as she approached them her brain started to calculate a few things.

Okay the guy was an Archer and the way he was holding that bow, it sure looked like he knew how to use it. Still who would be dumb enough to walk into a war zone armed with a bow. Obviously there had to be something else about him right? If not she could discount him, because no matter what he did he could never hit her,she was just too fast.

Then it became all about the girl. She was very pale, almost Goth like in her purple robe and giving off a weird vibe. For a tiny fraction of a micro second, Velocity swore she saw a different face flicker over the girls, but even for her it was too fast. All she knew was it sent a shiver up her spine straight to that primordial part that said run.

She was halfway back to the team before she knew it and had to turn around again. Luckily at the speed she was traveling a fly's wings had not even beaten once yet.

Stopping in front of them but behind a car she called out to them.

"Raven. My name is Velocity. You don't know me but I bring a message from Aquaman. He told me to tell you Happy Blorthog. I hope that means something to you because he didn't explain it to me."

Standing up she emerged from her hiding spot and walked to the middle of the street. "I am supposed to come a fetch you and guide you to where the Justice League is waiting."

Friends among Fiends (Tag Aquaman, Raven, Damian?, Everyone?)

Virgil froze as the speedster mentioned Aquaman. Another titan had appeared on the field, which could only logically mean one thing. With considerable concentration he began to search through the garbled radio frequencies in the area and with a bit of effort was able to pick out the T-com and the leagues LexCorp brand communicators. He focused more to force his way through the static (no pun intended) and sent out a simple message.

"Been a long time since I saw you guys. Why is it catastrophic events follow you people?"

With that virgil cast his eyes towards Raven, it all hinged on her reaction.

RAven (Tag: Arrow, Velocity, Virgil)

"Raven. My name is Velocity. You don't know me but I bring a message from Aquaman. He told me to tell you Happy Blorthog. I hope that means something to you because he didn't explain it to me."

Click to expand...

Scowling Raven turned and looked in the direction of the voice, not the direction of their follower, her fingertips took on a distinctive shimmer as the speaker spoke, but hearing THAT word made her scowl even more. “The phrase has meaning.” She replied without explanation.

Standing up she emerged from her hiding spot and walked to the middle of the street. "I am supposed to come a fetch you and guide you to where the Justice League is waiting."

Click to expand...

Sighing Raven was about to speak when another person spoke, this time from the followers direction, and her scowl deepened.

"Been a long time since I saw you guys. Why is it catastrophic events follow you people?"

With that Virgil cast his eyes towards Raven, it all hinged on her reaction.

Click to expand...

“Because I touched the Trophy of a Cat’s Ass once. I gave it to someone else, but it didn’t help.” Lifting an eyebrow she looked from one newcomer to the other, finally pointing at Virgil. “Come if you wish, but stop following.”

Then shifting her gaze she looked at The Green Arrow. “Told you there was a speedster.” Gesturing at Velocity she indicated for her to lead, they would, accompany, her.

WiredIn said:

Virgil froze as the speedster mentioned Aquaman. Another titan had appeared on the field, which could only logically mean one thing. With considerable concentration he began to search through the garbled radio frequencies in the area and with a bit of effort was able to pick out the T-com and the leagues LexCorp brand communicators. He focused more to force his way through the static (no pun intended) and sent out a simple message.

"Been a long time since I saw you guys. Why is it catastrophic events follow you people?"

With that virgil cast his eyes towards Raven, it all hinged on her reaction.

Click to expand...

Although he wasn't sure if he liked how Static had phrased that castastrophic events seemed to follow them around. He had to admit that he had a bit of a point.

He also found it curious that former Titans seemed to be answering the call. Was it coincidence or was something greater bringing them all together. He remembered once Dick telling him that the Titans initially was meant as away of training the new generation that could potentially replace the League should something happen. But that in time it grew to be it's own team of heroes instead of just the junior team or even the backup team. He wondered if this was the time they had forseen so many years ago.

A week. This was maybe like the third or fourth time the League had been gone this long. But never without leaving some sort of notice with someone. Then all hell breaks loose all over the place leaving the freaking Titans to deal with it? The Titans? Barely out of freaking training pants and now they're having to cover for the League? Thea really didn't like this. She didn't like that she was going to have to put on what Grand would have called her Zuitsuit and figure out what the hell was going on.

Time for the Wildcat to go public. Time for her to do that thing she did and hated herself for doing. Time to hurt people again. But where to start. The Darkfreak wasn't answering. The Boy scout either. The big Lady never answered her anyways so there was no surprise there. The League would never leave this level of fuck all to the second stringers. Not that the Titans were a bad second string but a spade is a spade.

Thea sat behind the keyboard of the computer in her office doing search after search to try to find where they could be and continued to find nothing. The internet disappointed her just like the last five guys she had dated. A lot of words and no action. Thea opened her desk drawer and pulled out a flash drive she'd been given. Just like the last five guys she was reduced to using artificial means to her end. She inserted the drive and when it finished loading she brought up the database. Looking through it she found what she figured would be the best place to start. The Calculator. Big brain, low pain tolerance. Putting the drive away and changing from her jeans and tank top into the costume she wore when she beat the shit out of the kids they brought her to try to convince them they really didn't want to be "heroes".

"Oh joy," she sighed, "off to Gotham it seems." She went to the garage and mounted the bike with the cats head shaped wind guard. Putting on the helmet that matched her cowl she took off for Gotham. "This had better be good to get me out in public dressed like this."

And not even five minutes out the green scaly ninjas start popping up out of nowhere. Thea laid the nice new bike down in a slide as she threw herself between the freaking ninjas and the real housewives of Brooklyn. Claws extending from the backs of her gloves with a flick of the palm triggers, she almost took the face off of one. Thea throws herself at the next and drops him with an elbow to the throat. From there she is a blur. a fist here, a foot there. Why does this crap happen when there isn't any real powered heroes around? Thea almost laughed at herself for that thought. Has the world really become this dependent on the "gods"? That was the last clear thought she had as she slid into her fighting mode. These idiots were good but they weren't her level of good. Very few are that kind of good.

She realized she needed to move from her current local as she was piling up bodies, so the dance went mobile. The wildcat was in her element. Cold, calculating. Wait, Calculator. He would just have to wait his turn to get beat up. His lunch money would hold. The last of the freak show gave Thea a look and started to run. She leaped at him, grabbing him by the scruff and the next thing she knew, with a stomach wrenching sensation, she was elsewhere. She smashes the ninja with a knee to his face and looks about.

Chilling in Englewood. (Tag Chas/Rogues)

Eventually he reached a place, a way point in the mystical arteries of Earth. His hands flickered through gestured and more complicated knots of the Void oozed from Creation. The script flowed through the air readjusting itself to the arcane tides buoying the Earth in the ethereal realms. Realms of the Endless and others impacted the alignment of what he was doing, all of which was captured so effortlessly that most would just think what Kiz had doodled was to work of a bored child. A student of one of the High Houses might drop down on their knees in awe at the majesty of what Kiz was doing, but Kiz didn't work out of Zerox. Kiz was a Mozart clapping out works of breath taking beauty with his hands and some rocks amongst apes. He was used to being underestimated or out right ignored. It wasn't anything new. He didn't want worship or acknowledgement. No Void Binder made it this far who actually cared what others thought. The nature of the nightmares bound to his soul would not allow for such narcissism.

He stopped. He'd gotten too far from the main group already. They were busy waiting for the final dredges to show up. He was in no particular hurry. He'd found waiting often was its own weapon to be wielded. He felt their scrying feather upon his anima. He was attuned with their machinations especially those directed at him by virtue of the Key Dagger. If they understood the danger they put themselves in by doing what they were doing, they wouldn't have been doing it. It just gave him more of an opportunity to attune to them, much as they had attuned themselves to the warlock...He struggled to recall her name. Raven?

Anyway, he had some time to kill. Of all the women that had landed into his life, Lisa was the second interesting right now. She was deathless. New to the ramifications of that. She was also both pretty and loyal with at least a modicum of honor. What better way to set himself up for future interactions then to put himself in her debt. He'd found it was the best way to gauge the character of someone.

"Lisa, I have a favor to offer, if you are open to such a barter."

Wyldfire said:

The last of the freak show gave Thea a look and started to run. She leaped at him, grabbing him by the scruff and the next thing she knew, with a stomach wrenching sensation, she was elsewhere. She smashes the ninja with a knee to his face and looks about.

Click to expand...

The ninja crumpled.

And even though it had been late morning on into midday on The East Coast of North America, Thea "Wildcat" Grant found herself under cover of a kind of darkness. A crackling reddish dome overhung the entirety of Central and Keystone alike, and in the distance, to the west, between the cities, a yellow-green lightning the color of the teleport effect was constantly flickering and stabbing up and down between the peak of the dome in the sky and a point somewhere over The Missouri River.

She was in Central City, Missouri, though she might not have immediately recognized this.

The additional mass introduced to the Blackadder's teleport had skewed the return-targeting function in the circuitry of his uniform-- he hadn't rematerialized inside Kobra's hidden base that he might be beamed back out to a more advantageous position-- he had crashlanded a few miles short.

Perhaps fortuitously, Thea had landed not far from the train track that ran northeast through the city. Even more fortuitously... if Thea had thought to bring a T-Comm, the commlink that Titans would use to get ahold of Thea if one of their new mentees was in need of a more veteran vetting...

...it would start pinging quietly now.

While interference would prevent it being able to send a signal, the proximity sensor would show that Raven, Aquaman, Hotline, and even former-member Static were nearby, within a few minutes' hoofing-it distance. Just a little further east, not far from where the barrier wall met Missouri plainlands.

Rogue Trade. (tags to kiz)

kizkiz said:

Anyway, he had some time to kill. Of all the women that had landed into his life, Lisa was the second interesting right now. She was deathless. New to the ramifications of that. She was also both pretty and loyal with at least a modicum of honor. What better way to set himself up for future interactions then to put himself in her debt. He'd found it was the best way to gauge the character of someone.

Click to expand...

Of the three Rogues that had entered into an accord with Kiz (Bellorophon?), The New "Justice League," and their Alliance of Misfit Toys, Lisa "The Glider" Snart was perhaps the second most honorable.

The first was Leonard, her brother, Captain Cold, simply because his particular personal code had determined it more efficient to not cause overmuch collateral damage, and that meant not killing heroes or cops-- and sometimes even helping heroes and cops when worse villains threatened their turf or even just the hockey game.

The third was Heatwave, who basically lived for collateral damage, worshiped the flame that could consume houses, people, property, loved to watch it dance and lick the air with innumerable Pentecostal tongues. Cold kept him in check, however, by virtue of their long partnership and his respect for Cold's ability to get shit done.

By default, this put Lisa somewhere in the middle.

She didn't always agree with her brother's code. But she sure as Hell didn't agree with her now-ex Mirror Master right now...

...not to mention she was looking for a revenge fuck, and to that end the powerfully-built Kiz struck her as the most enticing prospect.

kizkiz said:

"Lisa, I have a favor to offer, if you are open to such a barter."

Click to expand...

She bobbed down closer to the ground, but just above it... using her continual levitation to put her eyes at his eye level. Otherwise, he would have been much taller than her.

Her tendrils curled through the air around him, in their way not unlike the twisting turning Void-bled doodles he had been sketching upon the ley-lines that ran like tributaries and capillaries through the waking world.

A slow-burn smirk smoldered on her auric-aura'd face.

"...keep talking. I'm listenin'."

Levitating as she crossed the ground, Raven ignored the loose rubble, shifting rocks, and small indentations in the ground that would slow down, obstruct, or irritate her surface traveling companions. Now was not the time for petty concerns. Not that there ever was a time for petty concerns.

Scrying the area astrally, as well as physically was taxing as well as dangerous. But she did it, in a localized area. She had no desire to go blind. Or destroy a part of her brain.

She watched as the Rider left the other group and made ?her? way back towards them.

“Cannonfodder.” Was all the Rider said as it approached.

Obviously the Rider was not in the mood to talk. Not that that was much of a change in the usual attitude.

“Are they coming or are we joining them?” Raven asked.

A shrug was her only answer. A simple fatalistic shrug. It didn’t matter really. Everyone was going in the same direction.. the center of the shit pile.

Kiz and Lisa sitting in a tree... (Tag Chas)

She was beautiful and cocky in a way that Kiz found charming. But there were many pretty things in creation. For as many flowers that could be found were equally poisonous monsters. Many weren't hiding in a nice guise, their appeal was a warning. Lisa's tentacles this close could kill Kiz, if he wasn't fast enough.

He reached out and brushed back a strand of her glimmering, golden hair. "I feel terrible asking so much so soon, but I find myself doing terrible things quite often." He didn't sigh like some might when shouldering into a difficult situation. On one had was a women who he might be able to spend centuries with, and there were so few of them that ever crossed his path. Jumping through time and space with other people meant he could miss someone by seconds or millennia and never realize it. She might live until the end of creation as either nightmare or dream, but still they would not run into each other. On other was his duty and allegiances with High House Dream.

"If Rose falls, I want you to take her and flee the dome." He watched the expression on her face with great interest. "Not for sexual or sentimental reasons." He paused searching for an expression that would make sense to her. "But for business reasons, you understand?"

He waited to see if he'd navigated that field of traps.

"In exchange, I offer a favor in kind or magnitude at a date and time of your choosing."

Green Arrow looked at Raven and smiled. Bowing low in acknowledgement that she had indeed been right about the speedster he began to follow along behind her, keeping a careful watch on their rears...Ah behind them.

"Well sure there is a speedster now," he chuckled. "However she wasn't the one following us was she?"

He let the matter drop however. If there was one thing he had learned from his mother, it was never argue with a woman. The male was always wrong even when he was right.

The going wasn't so bad. Sure there was a lot of debris, but most of it was small or easily maneuvered around or over. The few times he had to exert himself, he did look with envy as both Raven and Velocity easily cleared the obstruction. Raven just floated over the damn thing, while Velocity was there one second and on top of it the next.

Ahh the joys of superpowers. That was it. As soon as this crisis was over he was seriously going to look into upgrading his tech. He knew his mother had a few contacts and perhaps if he made some new friends now, they might point him in the right direction.

Still he was surprised to see the Rider returning. He gave her a jaunty wave as they walked passed each other. "I take it your not big on the meet and greet then?" he asked chuckling. "I am assuming I am in that cannonfodder estimation as well."

Nodding to himself more than her Connor smiled grimly then looked her straight in her visor. "Well lot's of wars have been won by the cannonfodder before the big brave knights could rush over to take the glory."

"I would think someone as old as you would remember things like that. Don't tell me your memories going," he chuckled. "Oh and if that's the case please remind your host we still have plans for later on."

Waving he dashed off to catch up with the others.

The Soldier, The Civilian, The Martyr, The Victim.

kizkiz said:

He reached out and brushed back a strand of her glimmering, golden hair.

Click to expand...

Lisa was, perhaps, surprised at how... affectionate this seemed... in the curious manner that Kiz was affectionate. Could a man be a barbarian and a gentleman simultaneously? Civilized and yet uncouth.

As he reached out to touch her, touch her hair, she made extra certain that she was tangible, focused hard on having substance with which he could interact. Not just so that he would be able to brush back her hair in this way, but so that she could feel it. An electric thrill raced down her spine.

If such a lifeform as her could be described as having chakra points, he would have elicited a silvery, photonic response from certain lower ones.

kizkiz said:

"I feel terrible asking so much so soon, but I find myself doing terrible things quite often."

Click to expand...

"If you're gonna do it then do it," Lisa prompted him, searching his face. She could practically taste her curiosity, and that was a rare thing these days-- it was hard to taste things when you were mostly dead.

"No sense letting your conscience make you a whipping boy if your mind's already made up. You wouldn't be doing it if you didn't benefit somehow, so why not just enjoy those benefits?"

kizkiz said:

"If Rose falls, I want you to take her and flee the dome." He watched the expression on her face with great interest.

Click to expand...

Well, her expression gave him something to watch all right. Of all the things she thought he was going to ask-- the sort of favors boys tended to ask of girls when the boys thought they were going to die-- a deathbed fuck-- this completely caught her off-guard.

"You got a thing for pale redheads, huh? Vulcan Sansa Stark turns your crank to frank?" she scoffed. "Maybe next time I die I'll make sure my ghost isn't so colorful."

kizkiz said:

"Not for sexual or sentimental reasons." He paused searching for an expression that would make sense to her. "But for business reasons, you understand?"

He waited to see if he'd navigated that field of traps.

Click to expand...

...walking in grey areas and soft places between heroism and villainy perhaps had made Kiz uniquely equipped to converse with both heroes and villains. Because he certainly had found a way to speak her language.

"You owe her a favor or something. Her or her old man? ...forget it, it's none of my business. Yeah, I get it. Letting the boss' wife or kid or niece or whatever get ganked on the job is generally pretty bad for business. We've done a bit of security work for underworld guys. Yeah. Yeah, I'm good to get her out of Dodge. But you better hope I don't have to choose between her and my crew."

kizkiz said:

"In exchange, I offer a favor in kind or magnitude at a date and time of your choosing."

Click to expand...

Lisa smirked at that faintly, wryly, the light in her eyes dancing in concert with her tendrils. "So the bigger the magnitude, the bigger my favor? I almost hope it's life or death..."

She ran a tendril back across the side of his face, mirroring his brushing a lock of her hair away heartbeats before.

"Because what I want is really, really spectacular."

This is War.

In a world torn by incomprehensible destruction, the mind could be forgiven taking the opportunity lock up. To refuse to think, to refuse to act, to refuse to process.

To demand that Jane stop this crazy thing; you're done with the world and you'd like to abandon ship.

Thus, faced with incalculable odds, perhaps our heroes could be forgiven their hesitation. Their inability to act with all the speed and alacrity the situation demanded because those demands were so insurmountable.

But they had already gotten inside the shield-- they had already done the impossible. And there was more impossible to be done.

Combining their intel-- conversations with Raven in particular, and sensor scans from G.R.I.D. and those with elevated instrumentation and sensoria-- this ersatz expanded Justice League determined that while the energy field that Static had experienced towards the river was likely the primary threat...

...their chances of taking it out would be much improved if they took out the bloodmages' power nexus first. If they did this, then The Bestowed would be far less able to support the villains strongholding the center of these central cities.

And thus they made their way across the city.

They encountered Wildcat on the way, grateful for her inclusion-- her fists and her heart were as great as any superhuman's.

They also encountered the traps that Kiz had predicted. Bodies lain in wait as blood-boiled time bombs. Comparatively few-- Kobra's incursion had been swift and efficient and they had not wasted much blood in this conquest-- not many dead bodies to leave behind. But what bodies they did leave, Kaldur was able to use The Champion's Trident to cool their pressure-cooked fluids and help them traverse the streets in safety.

And thus they drew near to the Sports Complex, surrounded by its guard of Bestowed at the zenith of their power.

Surrounded by 333 burning barrels of mystic incense.

The group hung back for a moment for recon purposes, hopefully out of range of the full effect of the power-mimicry Raven, The Rider, and this new Green Arrow had observed earlier. The Bestowed had seen them coming, of course, with what scrying they had not obscured by Kiz' machinations...

...but the heroes had not lain eyes upon this scene before, and taking a moment to take stock seemed necessary.

"Magic users." Kaldur murmured, eyes narrowed. "Psychics. Your thoughts."

Liz ran a tendril back across the side of his face, mirroring his brushing a lock of her hair away heartbeats before. "Because what I want is really, really spectacular."

The smallest smile tilted the corners of his lips upward. Such a small gesture, easy to miss if someone wasn't really looking for it. On their other hand, they'd probably end up trying to kill each other by the end. Kiz could be cruel, cold, and above all, a slave to his duty and honor. But he allowed himself a few moments to savor the possibilities. A few moments couldn't hurt too much.

"Then we are so bound by oath sworn and Void filled." Black script oozed between unseen cracks in creation, blossoming around them like a violent surge of mold for a few seconds as their agreement was written and accepted within the halls of High House Void.

He chatted with her about nothingness to pass the time while he continued bending the Ley Line. Towards the end the strain was slowing his steps enough that he started to lag behind the group, but they reached their destination. And thus they drew near to the Sports Complex, surrounded by its guard of Bestowed at the zenith of their power.

Surrounded by 333 burning barrels of mystic incense.

The group hung back for a moment for recon purposes, hopefully out of range of the full effect of the power-mimicry Raven, The Rider, and this new Green Arrow had observed earlier. The Bestowed had seen them coming, of course, with what scrying they had not obscured by Kiz' machinations...

...but the heroes had not lain eyes upon this scene before and took a moment to take stock seemed necessary.

"Magic users." Kaldur murmured, eyes narrowed. "Psychics. Your thoughts."

"Mediums," Kiz corrected Kaldur. "Ravana's Rakshasa is tethered to their Ātman inducing the Artha-Shastra." He frowned, "And I assume your code prevents you from flooding the stadium." He turned to look at the Rider, "And her as well. The Ravana is powered by the nightmares of the people in the stadium. It is fed and curated by the 333. Even if you kill one of the Bestowed, that portion of Ravana will only seek another. Even if the vessel is impure, it will attach and bestow. Even if we destroyed all of Kobra so that Ravana had none to settle into, it would find other vessels, the citizens in the stadium. You'd have to kill them if you weren't worn to nubs by then."

He let that settle into the minds of the children around him. This wasn't a bank robber or terrorist, this was one of the most powerful demons in Hell. This was one of the Prince's, itself an aspect of Kali while also being Kali's offspring.

"And your warlock is clearly not up to the challenge of banishing Ravana." He looked at Raven, his eyes not human eyes anymore but twin wells of the Void. He stared into her soul. Then he looked back towards the stadium. "A contingent could attempt to empty out the Stadium through speed, flight, or dimensional manipulation. That would weaken the Bestowed, they'd risk defaulting on their oaths. If they did default, then I could convince Ravana to depart. That would be easy enough on my end."

Kiz turned and looked through the tunnel he'd bored through creation. "Anything that moves that way will be propelled along the Ley Line like a rock skipping along the surface of a lake...or creation in this case. That should help any who become grievously injured or rescued to withdraw with some hope of survival."

Kiz unhooked his Key Dagger, swinging it around his finger. He wasn't sure if they'd trust him if he disclosed how the Key Dagger could absorb those portions of Ravana when the Bestowed died, but he pressed on anyway. "It'll take the passage of seven moments before Ravana has exited a dead Bestowed and enters another host. Not much time, but enough that if I'm fast enough I could absorb that portion with this." He raised the Key Dagger, "If I amass a super majority of the 333, then I may be able to negate their oaths. I would be vulnerable, so I prefer to put you all in harms way before I put myself." Kiz was nothing if not honest. "I am not invested enough to risk my life in this, but I will aid you so long as the Rogues and Rose remain."

The problem he had with releasing either Sheshanaga or the Nadeau in their entirety was this group would rather die than tolerate those levels of collateral damage.

Wait, we should do what?

To one side sat a green furred feline, half hidden in the shadows as he washed his paws. At Kiz' words his ears pricked and he started forward, turning into the human form of Garfield.

"Wait did I understand you correctly? You want to kill 333 people?"

He looked around, sure he was the shortest and nobody had to listen to him since he was not actually part of the League, but he was still human...well kinda...

"Can't we like... teleport or transport or do some sort of port the people out of there? I mean... those are innocent people out there, they did not ask to get gathered together and be part of some blood cult demon worship Exorcism hard-on scheme."

"You heard wrong Garfield. There are 333 Bestowed at the peak of their power, drawing from the nightmares of the citizens of both towns. If not more." Kiz shrugged. "I would kill thousands to save millions, but I acknowledge you would not." He tilted his head, doing some calculations. "More people have died while we shook each other's hands and said our hellos, then dwell in that stadium. I didn't see you concerned while you were making jokes." His lips compressed and he scanned the assembled Heros. "But I wouldn't ask you to compromise your own honor for convienence. I never do."

GRID switched off his Scan Visor and looked an Kiz. "Wouldn't just knocking them unconscious work just as well?"