Justice League: The New Wave (IC)

Hiro to Constantine and Aquaman.

Hiro sat back on his knees, narrowing his eyes at the scruffy Englishmen. At his gesture, he glanced over his shoulder and sprang to his feet so quickly in surprise that his figure had transformed into an arching blur.

“He’s alive!” Captain Obvious exclaimed.

He watched the exchange between Aquaman and the hobo. They knew each other? When Kaldur turned his sights to him, Hiro tensed a little and stared at the Atlantean’s hand. His eyes could have morphed into stars.

“Oh…oh shit…I’m going to shake Aquaman’s hand,” Hiro muttered in awe and excitement. He shakily reached out his hand and then quickly drew it back turning it up and down before his eyes as he inspected it for dirt, grime, cooties, who knew. He just wanted to make sure that his hand was clean when he shook the hand of such a legendary hero. When he took the webbed hand of Aquaman, if it wasn’t for Hiro’s mask, he might have seen some tears rush to his eyes.

“I’m Silver Bullet,” he said on a pathetically squeaky voice. He was so overwhelmed with fan boy enthusiasm that he could have detonated like a firecracker. His friends would never believe him! No shit! He couldn’t tell them. Fuck! This wasn’t fair. This was meant to be bragged about. Damn it; being a super hero was unfair!

Drawing his hand back, Hiro shook away his fan boy face and put on a stern and heroic show, resting his hands upon his hips.

“What I meant to say is that I am Silver Bullet. I plan to be the fastest man alive. Me and the hobo were able to save your life. That crazy super-powered man is still out there causing problems.”

He then pointed in the distance at the lasers that were cutting through the night like some pop concert special effects.

“I was getting citizens to safety when you went missing. What do you suppose we do about that crazy guy?”

We're gonna run through fire like we've never been burned. (Rose/M'gann)

Fire itself was fear and agony and death to the heart of M'gann M'orzz that beat in the chest of Rose Walker.

Heat alone was not life-threatening.

But this was a lot of heat... and it was debilitating.

Rose staggered back, trying to shield her face with her arm, but the light was blinding and it almost felt like her skin was melting...

Keep it together. Keep it together.

He had bellowed in some unintelligible tongue, but Karan seemed to answer in kind-- well, mostly, her reply was broken with English--

--how either of them could stand to talk when it felt like the surface of the sun around them was beyond her.

She didn't know who the man was in the flying machine who'd told them to come here, but they were here now.

Rose staggered back from the clash of solar-powered titans, and she put her hand on her head-- and she tried to-- push her thoughts out into the world. Tried to send them to the minds of anyone nearby who could help-- hopefully that would include the flying machine guy--

<Um. Hello?>

<We found the scary guy-->

--a fresh wave of heat washed over her and she clenched in pain--

<--now what?>

Let the floods cross the distance in your eyes. (Aquaman/Constantine)

HotCider said:

Hiro sat back on his knees, narrowing his eyes at the scruffy Englishmen. At his gesture, he glanced over his shoulder and sprang to his feet so quickly in surprise that his figure had transformed into an arching blur.

“He’s alive!” Captain Obvious exclaimed.

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Constantine snorted. "No flies on you, mate."

HotCider said:

When Kaldur turned his sights to him, Hiro tensed a little and stared at the Atlantean’s hand. His eyes could have morphed into stars.

“Oh…oh shit…I’m going to shake Aquaman’s hand,” Hiro muttered in awe and excitement.

Click to expand...

One of the first things any Atlantean learned to overcome when spending extended periods in The Surface World was that air conducted sound much less clearly and loudly than water. Atlanteans would learn to speak up and listen closer. Kaldur had long ago learned to cope with this, but it still perhaps strained his patience and tolerance a tiny bit more than usual that this particular surfacer was both star-struck and poorly enunciating.

Still. There had been a time when he had once said that very sentence to himself when meeting King Orin.

But His Majesty was gone now.

The only member of The Justice League's founding seven members to have been seen any time recently was The Flash-- and even he had not been seen since yesterday.

Was this all the world had to offer in their stead?

These fidgety, mumbly, wide-eyed novices? Had he ever been so green? Had Superboy?

It would have to be sufficient.

HotCider said:

He shakily reached out his hand and then quickly drew it back turning it up and down before his eyes as he inspected it for dirt, grime, cooties, who knew. He just wanted to make sure that his hand was clean when he shook the hand of such a legendary hero. When he took the webbed hand of Aquaman, if it wasn’t for Hiro’s mask, he might have seen some tears rush to his eyes.

“I’m Silver Bullet,” he said on a pathetically squeaky voice.

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Kaldur's dark eyebrows climbed his forehead towards his blond hair.

HotCider said:

Drawing his hand back, Hiro shook away his fan boy face and put on a stern and heroic show, resting his hands upon his hips.

“What I meant to say is that I am Silver Bullet. I plan to be the fastest man alive. Me and the hobo were able to save your life. That crazy super-powered man is still out there causing problems.”

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His second delivery was steadier. More impressive, more ambitious, demonstrating that even in the face of the unexpected, Silver Bullet could even out his keel. Perhaps there was hope for this latest generation after all.

Kaldur'ahm narrowed his grey-green eyes, eyes like the sea before a storm.

"Silver Bullet. I thank you. And this... hobo. I owe you my life."

"Perhaps ungratefully, I intend to risk that life again until and unless this powerful threat is brought down."

HotCider said:

“I was getting citizens to safety when you went missing. What do you suppose we do about that crazy guy?”

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Gazing at the flashing firestorms of heat vision spearing up from blocks away, Kaldur opened his mouth to speak, and then stopped-- closing his eyes and touching his hand to his forehead--

ChasNicollette said:

<Um. Hello?>

<We found the scary guy-->

<--now what?>

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<Continue to engage as best as you can,> Kaldur replied with his own telepathy, <and protect the people of this city.>

Granted, his mind-speak worked best with creatures of a marine nature, but this was mitigated when the receiving mind had a degree of psionic sensitivity.

<We will join you momentarily. Fight on!>

Lowering his hand from his forehead, he glanced once more at Silver Bullet.

"There are more heroes on the scene. Reinforcements, it would seem."

"We must rendezvous with them immediately that we might coordinate our strategies."

And then he snapped his gaze around to Constantine. "Hellblazer. Are you coming?"

But John had shrugged back into his coat and moved to the edge of the rooftop.

He looked... nervous. Not a lot of things could unnerve Constantine. Rumor had it he had wandered into The Gates of Heaven themselves just to give The Presence "the bird." Though surely that was... simply rumor.

Constantine shook his head. "Not my scene, Waterboy, you know that. Never did mesh well with you costumed types. Except Zatanna, tell 'er I said 'wotcher.'"

"I shall," Kaldur replied, in a way that suggested he did not know what Zatanna saw in Constantine, but that he was polite enough to not say so aloud.

"Besides," Constantine murmured. "There's somefhing inbound. Somefhing burning bright with my name on 'er lips and I'd much rather be somewhere else when she gets 'ere."

He slung a weary grin over his shoulder at the two younger heroes. "Good luck with the wrathful super-bloke, mates. And good luck with The Rider. 'Opefully they'll toughen you up for what's on the way. You lot'll need all the 'elp you can get."

"Wait," Kaldur frowned. "What is on the way?"

But John didn't answer. Places to go, people to do.

Fortunately for Constantine, The Rider could only teleport between flames.

And he had a whole stack of markers to call in with the god of travel.

John flicked his cigarette out and away from himself, as far as he could get it, out over the street below.

And murmured, "Pharamond."

...then he was gone.

But as he flickered from this plane, as he simply disappeared-- there one moment and gone the next, even to Hiro's accelerated senses --Kaldur's own mystical awareness (admittedly less developed than other mages'), detected the surge of celestial wrath coming from The Ghost Rider. He had swum through undersea geothermal vents that were less scalding-- it made his tattoos prickle even at this distance.

"There is a primal force among us," Aquaman grimaced, glancing at Silver Bullet even as he hopped to crouch on the lip of the roof. "Hurry to the scene of the battle and help our compatriots against the-- 'crazy man.' Make sure the Metropolitans are kept safe. I must make certain that this other being is not also here to cause us harm. Go!"

Without looking back to confirm that Silver Bullet had indeed darted off, Kaldur dove over the edge of the building, seemingly without a care for his own safety.

After all, without his waterbearers or The Champion's Trident, he could not summon water constructs to brace his fall.

And yet, as he fell down the side of the building he extended a hand, igniting his electric eel tattoo and causing arcs of energy to fly between his palm and the metal skeleton of the building...

...causing an electromagnetic effect that slowed his descent down the side of the building not unlike a pirate of cinematic yore descending a ship's sail with a blade stabbed into the fabric.

He landed in a superheroic crouch of his own and advanced to meet this primal, seething creature.

This was a busy night, with much to do.

But Aquaman was not one to back down from hardship.

Indeed, he would rise to meet it.

It's hard to just keep going. But faith is moving without knowing. (Rose/M'gann)

The replying voice in Rose's head was commanding and soothing simultaneously.

How that was even possible, Rose hadn't the slightest clue, but--

ChasNicollette said:

<Continue to engage as best as you can,> Kaldur replied with his own telepathy, <and protect the people of this city.>

<We will join you momentarily. Fight on!>

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Rose caught herself nodding, but the voice on the other end had-- hung up?

Continuing to hold up hands before her eyes so that she did not get blinded--

--she felt her palms blister and threaten to crisp--

--she called out to Karan, calling out loud as she could over the sizzle and snap of the photonic annihilations:

"KEEP AT IT! HELP IS COMING!"

"WE CAN DO THIS!"

He landed in a superheroic crouch of his own and advanced to meet this primal, seething creature.

This was a busy night, with much to do.

But Aquaman was not one to back down from hardship.

Indeed, he would rise to meet it.

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Exploding from a concrete wall that was dust and burning ash the Rider stepped forwards. A long time ago by mortal count the son of a carpenter had been betrayed for thirty coins of silver. A crown of Seventy Thorns had been placed upon his head. Forty strikes of lash he bore upon his back. Thirty years of Mortal suffering he endured.

The metal chain that was The Riders armour was made in punishment to remind it of that time. Two and a half millions fine links of silvery metal wrapped the Rider as it stepped forth. Armour, and cage, it writhed as if alive, each link carried a word written upon it. Each link was a sin that had to be paid for.

And forgiven.

Each link burned with the Grace of Heaven, and the Fury of Damnation.

Reaching up the Rider ripped away the last visage of Mortality, the helmet splitting in it’s hands as it was cast away.

Hate filled eyes of flame, burning away within a face of Fury, glared at him. And for a moment, a single simple moment, it looked like a halo was above it’s head. A halo of ethereal fire, and long flaming hair cascading across it’s shoulders.

But the moment passed as links rippled up and across it’s features, forming a helmet of golden fire. Twenty thousand links of sin covered it’s head, shaping themselves into the visage of a horned demon, it’s face twisted in rage.

“Constantine.” It said, with a voice that was not from the mortal realm. A voice that was more akin to the sound of an Angel screaming in torment for sins unspeakable.

You're the fire and the flood. And I'll always feel you in my blood. (Aquaman)

Varshanka said:

Reaching up the Rider ripped away the last visage of Mortality, the helmet splitting in it’s hands as it was cast away.

Hate filled eyes of flame, burning away within a face of Fury, glared at him. And for a moment, a single simple moment, it looked like a halo was above it’s head. A halo of ethereal fire, and long flaming hair cascading across it’s shoulders.

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Fists low, knees bent, shoulder cocked, Aquaman remained no less ready to engage.

But even he couldn't avoid the dilation in his pupils. The microexpression of... surprise.

The creature was... beautiful.

Varshanka said:

But the moment passed as links rippled up and across it’s features, forming a helmet of golden fire. Twenty thousand links of sin covered it’s head, shaping themselves into the visage of a horned demon, it’s face twisted in rage.

“Constantine.” It said, with a voice that was not from the mortal realm. A voice that was more akin to the sound of an Angel screaming in torment for sins unspeakable.

Click to expand...

Oh, that was a fearful image.

And that word-- that name-- spoke a thousand more images even more fearsome indeed.

But Aquaman had faced the terrors of the deep, and he had fought more than his fair share of monsters on land-- and he was not unlearned in the mystic arts. Even unarmed, he did not flinch from this beastly beauty with a cry like rolling thunder.

He held up a deflecting palm.

"Whoever-- whatever you are. If you can understand my speech. If you can see reason."

"John Constantine has left this place. Whatever wrath you have apportioned for him, doubtless he has earned it. But you will not find here the target of your furies."

"I implore you, creature. Begone from Metropolis."

"The people of this city have known enough fear this night. And there are lives yet that I still might save, if you do not force me to do battle with you instead."

He squared his jaw.

"If you must choose violence, then choose quickly, as the sooner I can join the fight with my new friends, the better this night will be for those caught in the crossfire."

"Depart or engage! But choose now!"

But Aquaman had faced the terrors of the deep, and he had fought more than his fair share of monsters on land-- and he was not unlearned in the mystic arts. Even unarmed, he did not flinch from this beastly beauty with a cry like rolling thunder.

He held up a deflecting palm.

"Whoever-- whatever you are. If you can understand my speech. If you can see reason."

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“Constantine!”

"John Constantine has left this place. Whatever wrath you have apportioned for him, doubtless he has earned it. But you will not find here the target of your furies."

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Snarling The Rider rolled it’s head, fist clenching as knuckles snapped and popped like rifle shots. It took a step closer to Aquaman, concrete shattering under the force before it melted into a pool of slag.

"I implore you, creature. Begone from Metropolis."

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“I was sent. Called to be here. “

"The people of this city have known enough fear this night. And there are lives yet that I still might save, if you do not force me to do battle with you instead."

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“You are not.. Innocent.. but you are not.. guilty.“ The demon replied was a growl.

He squared his jaw.

"If you must choose violence, then choose quickly, as the sooner I can join the fight with my new friends, the better this night will be for those caught in the crossfire."

"Depart or engage! But choose now!"

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With a snap like a whip, heat vanished, the flames diminished as the Rider slowly tilted it’s head, looking at Aquaman through that horrific helm like he was an insect.. or a soul to be consumed.

The chain armour melted away, withdrawing into faded and worn biker leathers. “You have not violated.. THE LAW.” The Rider said, flames flickering across it’s face as they faded. “I will.. punish… Constantine. One day.”

Looking at him, a burning glow behind her eyes that marked her as something.. Other, the girl spoke. “I am here for a reason. Maybe Constantine. Maybe something .. else. Until I know why, “ She shrugged. "Oh, and if you try and fuck with me.. I'll set you on fire, Kaldur'ahm."

Damian looked from above as he watched what was going on. From the speedster he called speedy Gonzalez to the strange being seemingly on fire. He was also now pretty sure that the naked man that was responsible for this mess was a Kryptonian. He didn’t think he’d need it but it was good that his father had come up with artificial kryptonite enhanced restraints… in the case of the Bat it was more like a net made of the titanium and the kryptonite. He just needed the perfect opening to use it.

Think I need a Devil to help me get things right. (Aquaman)

Varshanka said:

“You are not.. Innocent.. but you are not.. guilty.“ The demon replied was a growl.

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"I am not as innocent as I should be," Aquaman admitted. "But I am not as guilty as I could be."

"'Every saint has a past,'" he quoted. "'Every sinner has a future.'"

Varshanka said:

With a snap like a whip, heat vanished, the flames diminished as the Rider slowly tilted it’s head, looking at Aquaman through that horrific helm like he was an insect.. or a soul to be consumed.

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Aquaman was not the kind of hero who might taunt 'Eat me!' ...but he had just, essentially, demanded that The Rider "put up or shut up," and he wavered not one iota while he waited to see which she would choose.

Varshanka said:

The chain armour melted away, withdrawing into faded and worn biker leathers. “You have not violated.. THE LAW.” The Rider said, flames flickering across it’s face as they faded. “I will.. punish… Constantine. One day.”

Looking at him, a burning glow behind her eyes that marked her as something.. Other, the girl spoke. “I am here for a reason. Maybe Constantine. Maybe something .. else. Until I know why, “ She shrugged. "Oh, and if you try and fuck with me.. I'll set you on fire, Kaldur'ahm."

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"It would not be my first burn tonight," Kaldur replied wryly, and then remembered his fight aboard The Ravager, including Volcana, "or even this week."

"Nor do I ever intend to pick a fight beyond which is necessary," he declared. "Which, as it happens..."

At which point, he started running.

Running at the full speed that his agile, powerful Atlantean legs would carry him.

Running towards the clash of Kryptonian godlings that was the first exchange of fire between the mysterious attacker and Wondergirl.

Because if this fire-swathed leather-clad beauty was not going to stop him from getting back to that fight... well, then, he'd better get back to it.

"Perhaps the reason you are here," he called over his shoulder as he ran, "is to protect the people from a devastator with no seeming regard for guilt or innocence. If the forces that power you grant you a spirit of discernment-- should you not take umbrage at those who attack indiscriminately?"

Silver’s smile couldn’t get any broader when Aquaman thanked him for SAVING HIS LIFE OH-YE-AH!

I’m officially a hero. It doesn’t get any more bad ass than saving Aquaman with the powers of an old dude, Hiro mentally self-praised.

Then suddenly he heard a voice that made a chill race up his spine to the minute hairs on the back of his neck.

<Um. Hello?>

Grasping his head in panic, Hiro was looking terrified. “Oh fuck…my brain!”

<We found the scary guy-->

“Who is that? Am I hearing voices?” It was freaking him out. He looked at Aquaman and noticed that he was quiet and had a somewhat contemplative look on his face. Was he hearing them too?

<--now what?>

“Now what what? Who is this? You’re making me look crazy!”

The voices ceased and Hiro continued to stare up at the sky as though they had been coming from the clouds or something.

There are more heroes on the scene. Reinforcements, it would seem.

He glanced at Aquaman and nodded. “Rendezvous, right.”

New mission!

Hellblazer. Are you coming?

Hiro also gazed at Constatine with a determined frown. He wasn’t expecting the guy to bail on the team and vanish.

“What? He tries to fry me and then leaves?...” Hiro then turned the other cheek as he reluctantly muttered under his breath, “I was beginning to like that guy.”

There is a primal force among us…Hurry to the scene of the battle and help our compatriots against the---‘crazy man.’ Make sure the Metropolitans are kept safe. I must make certain that this other being is not also here to cause us harm. Go!

“Right!”

Silver faced the lasers on the skyline. He had one foot forward and both legs bent as though he were ready to take off running any second. He stood there for a good minute as he pondered a battle strategy.

I already evacuated that area. What can I do… he thought. He then glanced at his curled fist. Super Punch…Super Sonic Punch! He would never see it coming! Yeah!

The Asian smirked confidently. Balling his hand into a fist, he cranked back his arm, and took a step back as he prepared for the wind up and the pitch!

SUUUUPER~ (Yes, he had to say it like the bad asses in anime.)

SONIIIIC~

PUUU~UUNCH!

Silver Bullet bolted like the artillery fire from a cannon. He had ran so fast, throwing his full range of motion into the punch that all he felt was a mighty gust of wind howling about him as he swiftly closed the distance. The Kryptonian had been a blink before his eyes before his fist struck the side of his face with a thunderous:

KA-THOOM!

Silver’s body came out of its dash flickering in lightning as his fist turned the Zod’s head and shook his balance. As strong as his punch was, he still felt resistance. Hiro’s feet went flying over his head as he went flipping through the air. He landed several feet away, rolling in a manner that honestly should had been his braking distance. When he finally ceased rolling, he bore his teeth in a slight wince and glanced at his fist that still had lightning dancing about it like a decapitated snake. From his fist, his attention went to Val-Zod, hoping that his sudden ambush had been enough to help the group.

Play it again Sam..

Taking a step to the side as his jaw exploded in pain, Val shook his head. The girl was burning his chest with her stare, but he saw the flickering blur that had hit him. Glaring at that tumbling and twisting form he unleashed his anger. Twin beams lashing out as he roared in rage.

Karan didn’t pause in her attack however, she redoubled it. Running forward even as her own beams struck and burned at his rather muscular form. Screaming as she ran, the pitch rising higher and higher she added her own fist to the speedsters.

The second blow to the same spot on his jaw sent a scream of agony through him. The lasers shooting from his eyes flickering as he turned to her once more. But this time his own fist struck out. His chest burned and jaw fractured, Val-Zod Sone of Krypton struck the female before him with the Might of a near God.

As fast as she was, she wasn’t fast enough. Kara took the punch to her chest with a resounding crack that forced her backwards.

It felt like time had slowed. She saw it coming, she heard it hit. The explosion behind her ribcage told her it had hit. But she didn’t feel it. She felt the numbing pressure flowing across her chest. The way it seeped into her pores.

She saw the ground under her, but didn’t feel anything. Why was it so cold? Looking up at him, she stared at his jaw, the crack caused a distortion. If she could just show everyone where he was weak…

A bright lance of fire erupted from her eyes, scorching his jaw. Not even enough to hurt him. But it did mark the spot. “Again.. hit him again..” she sighed.

This is 10% luck, 20% skill, 15% concentrated power of will. (Rose/M'gann)

Rose could barely stand, much less fight.

All this heat flying around--

--it was like standing inside a microwave on a cast iron wok at the heart of a Guy Fawkes bonfire--

--and all of it was inside a kiln--

--if either one of them hit her with those eyebeams in the crossfire she knew she'd be a dead woman--

--but that random guy in silver, crackling with electricity, he just appeared out of nowhere and The Crazy Guy seemed staggered, knocked for a loop, moment of triumph!--

--Karan pressed the advantage with a haymaker that could belt a Death Star out of orbit--

--down but not out, he hit Karan back like a runaway Starkiller Base--

--but Karan kept up the pressure, painting his injury with her heated gaze like a soldier laser-targeting an air-strike--

Varshanka said:

“Again.. hit him again..” she sighed.

Click to expand...

And in that instant, down on one knee, her new friend maybe dying in front of her, another hero on his ass and maybe vulnerable a few feet from this force of nature--

--Rose drew back her mind like a fist.

She could move things with her mind. She could push things. Really, really heavy things.

What if she could-- tighten it--

--compress that force so that it hit the tiniest of spots, vastly increasing the pounds per square inch--

--psi vs. P.S.I.--

--she drew back that power that flooded to her brain from her heart and let fly, aiming for that very spot that Karan had zapped with her eyes--

--and Rose's own eyes sparked, lit up, the power that she threw at the powerhouse stabbed out through her optic nerves and out through her corneas--

--crossed the distance between her eyes and his jaw in a single synaptic photonic instant...

...laser-focused telekinetic concussive force...

...leaving Rose sprawled on the ground staring wide-eyed at what she'd just uncorked.

What--

--what the Hell was that?

"Perhaps the reason you are here," he called over his shoulder as he ran, "is to protect the people from a devastator with no seeming regard for guilt or innocence. If the forces that power you grant you a spirit of discernment-- should you not take umbrage at those who attack indiscriminately?"

Click to expand...

A step and the flames writhed and flowed once more, enveloping the Biker in it’s embrace. With another step the Rider gave chase, but not like any simple Ephemeral Mortal could move. It’s hand twisted and it threw fire at the ground.

Another step and it vanished in self made flames.

Rose's own eyes sparked, lit up, the power that she threw at the powerhouse stabbed out through her optic nerves and out through her corneas--

--crossed the distance between her eyes and his jaw in a single synaptic photonic instant...

...laser-focused telekinetic concussive force...

...leaving Rose sprawled on the ground staring wide-eyed at what she'd just uncorked.

What--

--what the Hell was that?

Click to expand...

Stepping forth from Kryptonian lasers a wonderful form of fire, when all one needed was a single spark. A head turned and looked at Rose. ‘Not Hell, child. Of that I can assure you.’ It said, with the sound of dry leaves turning to ash on the last day of the universe. It’s voice sapped the heat from the world, ice crystals forming on pooling water at Roses feet, Karan’s eye beams failed as soon as they touched that creature of living fire.

But even as it spoke the creature was turning, it’s fist - covered in ancient mail of chain and steel Striking that scorched place. A nuclear blast would have been subtler in both volume and pitch.

Val-Zod’s head snapped back, jaw shattered as he fell like a tree, after leaving the gravity well of earth for a few seconds. Crumpling to the ground he was helpless as the Rider reached out, grabbing the Man of Steels jaw. “Guilty!” It said, as it stared deep into his eyes.

And he screamed. Oh how that dark skinned, muscle bound Man of Steel screamed. He screamed like his soul was being flayed apart and laid bare for the Lord of Hosts, and the Master of Hell, to examine. Second by unrepentant second.

Turning away from Rose, the psychic backwash rolling over her, Karan vomited. Tears of Blood seeping from her eyes. She wasn’t Psychic – but that thing before her was screaming through her skull. Her skin crawled in revulsion as some instinct told her to fear this thing. What it was. What it had been.

Damian had maneuvered the bat into an attack posture as soon as he saw the blonde woman engage. She was wearing what looked like Wonder Woman’s symbol, however when he saw the fire from her eyes engage that of the naked man he knew what she was. It almost made him hesitate when he saw his opening, but only almost. He fired the missile and watched as it rocketed towards its intended target.

The missile came within a few feet of its target and then opened releasing a net that had a green glow to it. The net encompassed the Kryptonian male easily while the rest of the now useless rocket fell harmlessly to the ground. Now he just needed to find a place to set down and see what they were going to do about this Kryptonian.

Somebody shine a light, I'm frozen by the fear in me. (Rose/M'gann)

The flash of Karan's vision birthed a specter, and Rose, already reeling--

--froze.

This woman wreathed in flame that wasn't flame. Flame that burned... cold?

Rose felt the panic rising in her, felt the horror at the sight of open ignition.

And yet. And yet. Somehow the phobic response was... muted. Distant.

Like it, too, had gotten the heat sapped out of it.

Leaving Rose just to stare, wordless, voiceless, with her red red wide wide eyes.

But then the inhuman torch locked horns and gazes with their attacker.

And the fire... burned. It unchained something in the core of the man's cortex, let something loose inside him to run roughshod over his engrams and his receptors and--

--Karan wasn't psychic as such and she was still puking on the cratered pavement from the backwash--

--all the pain from all the people the man had hurt tonight went flushing through his mind in a mental spontaneous combustion and Rose could see it in his head, Rose could see it pouring down through his cerebrum like fire down a mountain--

It was the kind of pain so enormous and all-consuming that your nervous system couldn't spare the traffic for things like moving or breathing or speaking or screaming or comprehending--

--all there was was pain--

--pain and fire and death--

--and not for the first time tonight, something deep in Rose Walker's heart couldn't help but find it... familiar.

When Val-Zod (though she knew him not by that name, she may have glimpsed it in his mind as his penance exploded inside her mind also) collapsed like a puppet with his strings cut, so too did she sprawl back on the street, twitching and gasping, her fingers clutching arrhythmically at empty air--

--staring up into the nowhere of the sky--

--hyperventilating as her body remembered how to breathe--

"...no..."

she rasped, though she was so unaware of doing so she wouldn't remember it if anyone asked her later

"...no..."

"...that was Hell."

So near catatonia was she that she was barely conscious of the missile streaking past overhead and ensnaring Val, forcibly conscripted into The House of Zod, in a pale green death that would keep the fallen powerhouse from rising again.

But if I can't swim after forty days. (Aquaman/Rose/M'gann)

The Rider vanished into a burst of her own fire.

Kaldur'ahm could only hope that she had gone somewhere that she would prove of positive effect.

But he had no such method of apparition place-to-place.

With his waterbearers, he could fashion any number of aqueous constructs by which he could speed his passage. Hell, he could even swing from buildings like that Black Spider in Gotham.

Using the Champion's Trident, he could summon even greater quantities of water-- and vast energetic and meteorokinetic effects, the full capacities of which he was still learning.

But both his waterbearers and The Trident were knocked from him in the first few minutes of the battle with the powerhouse-- the mad Kryptonian.

And thus he was relegated to traveling as fast as his feet could carry him.

Which, while he was no conduit of The Speed Force like Silver Bullet or The Flash, his training and physiology made him faster than the fastest Olympic runner, and far more enduring. He could leave Usain Bolt behind as though he were standing still.

And as Aquaman barreled down the street towards the scene of the latest clash, he ate up the distance with his bare feet like he was a man possessed.

Ahead of him, he saw MetroPD's Special Crimes Unit setting up a perimeter about a block out.

Commanding them was Captain Jim Harper, The Guardian of Metropolis, clad in gold and blue, his unbreakable "police-badge" shield strapped onto his back. With him stood an array of highly-trained, brave police officers-- in Superman's absence, they had been stretched to their limits fending off metacriminals testing the waters of this new World Without a Justice League, even the technology supplied to them by Lex Luthor's privatization was proving barely enough. But still they pushed, following Harper's every order, spreading out to try against all odds to keep this contained if it got loose again.

At Aquaman's approach, Harper glanced up, then nodded a simple solemn nod to the approaching hero. He shot a look to a barrel-chested fifty-something veteran, complete with his trademark bowler hat on his head and stogie clamped in his teeth.

"Turpin!" Harper ordered.

And Dan Turpin lunged for a nearby cruiser, shoving his hand in the window and coming out--

--with The Champion's Trident.

They had recovered it from the scene of earlier combat!

"Yo, fish-boy!" Turpin roared, and hurled The Trident to Aquaman. "We got yer fish-fork!"

Aquaman snatched The Trident out of the air without batting an eye.

Though he grimaced at Turpin's terminology.

"I suppose, Sergeant," he bellowed, as he hurdled The SCU's perimeter without slowing down, "I should be grateful you do not call me 'Blackfish!'"

Turpin blinked, then his eyes widened. "Wh-- hey! It ain't like that!"

But Aquaman was still running and didn't have time for Turpin's hasty attempts to absolve himself, leaving Turpin to deal with Jim Harper's disapproving stare.

Turpin harrumphed, adjusted his body armor. "I ain't prejudiced. Like th' kid ain't never heard a fish joke before."

"I'm pretty sure, Sarge," Harper chided, "he's heard all the fish jokes before."

"Yeah, yeah," Turpin grumbled. "His people dropped a rock the size'a St. Martin's Island on th' warehouse district, I can't poke him in th' ribs? This woulda never happened in Sawyer's day."

"No, but Maggie Sawyer had Superman on her side," Harper noted.

"Aquaman's no Superman. But he's a damned good soldier. I can only hope he'll be enough to help his comrades fall in line."

Aquaman closed on the epicenter of the battle.

He felt his tattoos prickle again at his approach of The Rider. Felt his guts turn inside out at the displacement of some great and terrible psionic finishing move.

Both hands gripped the handle of his Trident, and he gritted his teeth, as Nightwing's Bat swooped overhead and unleashed a missile towards the fight.

After the green net had descended, cordoning off the now-crumpled Kryptonian, Aquaman slowed to a stop, Trident pointed for their fallen foe.

He didn't bother offering a pithy remark or a post-knockout one-liner.

Seeing their naked, vulnerable enemy caught like an animal in a trap... yes, it had the satisfaction of having saved the lives that he would have endangered, but there was a sadness to it as well. He took only a moment to reflect on that, however.

His gaze swept the battlefield.

He nodded to Silver Bullet. Impressed and grateful.

He scrutinized The Rider. Wary but intrigued.

He glanced skyward, fathoms-adapted eyes searching the darkened sky for Nightwing's Bat.

And then he regarded the two unfamiliar women. One wearing the stylized eagle crest of The Wonder Woman. The other pale like the moon with hair and eyes as red as a shark's thirst. Both seemed badly out of it.

Then somehow...

...somehow...

Rose Walker climbed out of the pit of her psychic trauma. The effort it took to speak was figuratively not unlike the feat of strength Karan had displayed hauling that glacier into the sky over The Big Apricot. But speak she did.

"My friend... is hurt."

Immediately, Kaldur recognized this woman's voice as the one he and Silver Bullet had heard in their heads earlier.

"She needs... sun."

Kaldur's eyes immediately widened, then narrowed.

He was no fool.

Another Kryptonian.

Sweeping his Trident up, it glowed with a ferocious power...

...and projected a forcefield dome over the fallen Val-Zod in his Kryptonite net. Yes, this bolstered the cordon they had created over the Kryptonian... but it also insulated this blonde Wonder... Girl? ...from the effects of the extraterrestrial paralytic radioactive poison.

The Champion's Trident was supposed to have been forged by Father Neptune himself. And it was said to give its wielder some measure of Neptune's power. Summoning energy blasts and constructs, for one thing. And unsurpassed command over even the scantest molecule of water.

On top of this, it granted its champion a certain portion of Father Neptune's ability to command and disperse storms-- all manner of weather... including the rainbow that often marked the passing of a great deluge. And if The Trident could summon the prismed colors of the rainbow... then it could unite the seven colors into the whitest of light.

Aquaman stood over the fallen, retching Karan and held The Trident low, aimed for her...

...and cast a brilliant bright beam of yellow-sun light upon her, bright enough that it seemed The Sun was rising in the middle of the night.

When the light faded a moment later, perhaps it would not have fully healed Karan, perhaps it would have, but no doubt her condition would be markedly improved.

And then Kaldur lowered The Trident, swept the gathered heroes once more with his gaze.

"You have done well this night."

"All of you."

"I am proud to have fought at your side, even if in some cases, it was only in spirit."

Metropolis' SCU swiftly descended, armed with restraints designed to hold the likes of The Parasite, Mammoth, or The Atomic Skull. In the Kryptonian's weakened state, without the direct sunlight of daytime to instantly restore him, he could perhaps be brought to specialized containment cells at Stryker's Island Penitentiary before he could bring The City of Tomorrow to any further harm.

"It is over."

What do you want from me? I'm not America's Sweetheart. (Hotline)


You would think, having been living in America since she was 9, she would have lost her Australian accent by now.

But no, it was still pretty strong.

She was stretched out on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling, one hand under her head, the other hand cradling a beautiful blonde young woman curled up next to her.

"And then we voyaged to this planet," she recalled, her eyes light-years distant with the recollection, "that was one, whole, living organism, but it was under threat from this race of conquerors called The Dominators. And its response was to make its sentient race undergo this process called hypertaxis, massive evolutionary upgrade... but it threatened to swallow up the individuality of its organisms in the process, it'd save their lives but it'd kill 'em. So we had to decide whether to interfere in the natural responses of an organic planet in order to save the souls of the people living on it... but we still had to contend with those invaders..."

She trailed off, smirked a languid smirk.

"Good times. The Justice League actually gave us props for that one."

"And, uh," the blonde woman murmured sheepishly, gazing quietly at Ruby, "how was Superboy through all this?"

Ruby snorted softly, propped up on one elbow, half-grinned at her ladyfriend. "Well, I do declare, Roxanne Leech, are you only surreptitiously sleeping with me so you can check on your ex?"

Roxy made a nervous noise. "Well, no, I mean. I do worry about him. We're friends now but he and I barely talk, even when we're in the same time zone."

"Or on the same planet," Ruby chuckled faintly, sitting up and turning away, stealing one of Roxy's cigarettes from the bedside table, scooping up a lighter. "You want me to smack him upside his nigh-invulnerable head, get him to call you?"

They were in a run-down little apartment, barely a two-bedroom, the most Roxy and her dad could afford these days-- even for something so modest, renting in New York was pricey as Hell.

"Nah," Roxy shook her head, hugging her knees to herself, smiling sheepishly. "He's-- he's busy these days. A lot on his mind. I know he hasn't started calling himself Superman yet, but, I mean, with Big Blue gone MIA, I mean-- he's all there is now, right?"

Ruby clicked the lighter and the flame sprang to life in front of her, flickering, and Ruby gazed through it without seeing it, her eyes now gazing to a whole different distance, she put the cigarette to her lips and it wobbled as she murmured: "Seems that way."

But before she could actually touch the flame to the end of the cigarette, a BOOM thundered outside, rocked the building-- dust wafted from the ceiling--

--Roxy made a panicky noise--

--Ruby snapped the lighter shut and lunged for her jeans. "Honey, you don't have a super-powered terrorist boyfriend or husband I don't know about, do you? Because it would not be the first time that's happened to me."

Roxy wiped dust out of her eyes, blinking worriedly. "No, but my dad has a tendency to hire super-mercenaries for PR stunts--"

But right then, right as Ruby was slithering into her jeans and fishing her phone out of her pocket--

--the wall smashed inward and a lantern-jawed figured with scraggly red hair powered through the hole.

Ruby swore as the sudden impact knocked the phone skittering from her hand, she dove for it--

--and came up to find that under this toolbag's serape (who wears a serape, he needed a serious image upgrade, maybe even a reboot), he had a small assortment of cybernetic arms.

A bladed claw. A gigantic metal fist. And some sort of automatic weapon on a turret, probably energy-based? And that bladed arm was at Roxy's throat.

"Sidearm!" Roxy snarled in recognition.

"Heya Rox," he growled. "Long time no see. But it turns out your dad still owes The Technician fer a couple of jobs he outfitted, an' I'm here t' see about pickin' up a little collatteral."

"You son of a bitch," Ruby growled.

The turret weapon turned and aimed at Ruby's face.

"How 'bout a lil' less name-callin'," Sidearm suggested. "An' a little more phone-callin'. Use that chunky cell in yer hand t' call Rex Leech, make sure he knows what's at stake the next time he skips a payment."

"Yeah," Ruby grimaced, eyes stony as she stared Sidearm down.

"I'll make the call."

She thumbed the slider of her phone open, exposing a keypad of numbers that glowed a soft blue-- at least, they resembled numbers, but-- not any numbers from this solar system.

Without even looking, her thumb unerringly found a sequence of numbers.

4. 3. 7. 6.

H-E-R-O.

SssshhCLICK!

...but you love me anyway. (Hotline)

ChasNicollette said:

4. 3. 7. 6.

H-E-R-O.

SssshhCLICK!

Click to expand...

Hypertime spun around her like a roulette wheel.

Electricity crackled in her skin.

...and she... vanished?

Sidearm blinked. "Whut th'--? Did she just-- beam up?"

Roxy snarled at him. "Oh, you are in trouble now. You do not know who you're messing with!"

Sidearm glanced at her dubiously. "Oh yeah? Who am I messing with?"

Roxy hesitated. "Actually, I don't know either, yet. It's always sort of... different."

Meanwhile.

Ruby was biologically male, this time, and she was powerful. She could feel the physical might coursing through her-- she was armored in an organic steel ferrodermis with chitinous exoskeletal outcroppings--

Like usual when she Dialed, she felt the nearly-irresistible compulsion to call out the name of the Hero she'd become.

And so she bellowed, in a voice like an avalanche: "I..."

"...am The BUGGERNAUT!"

--but she was tiny.

The size of an ant. And not even a big ant.

So her voice didn't carry especially far. Where she was on the floor in the rubble of Sidearm's entrance, her voice might not have even made it under the bed.

As the heroic identity coalesced in her mind, she received an awareness of his capabilities, of his personality.

She had the proportionate strength of an alpha-level metahuman. Which meant, at this size, she could do about as much damage as a really, really strong regular-sized human. She was also... indestructible. Like, completely indestructible.

But that wasn't Buggernaut's only power.

At Ruby's continued absence, Sidearm snorted, hauled Roxy with him into the next room.

"Whatever," he grumbled. "Don't gotta call Leech t' find him."

Flourishing aside his serape, he revealed a white sheath around his abdomen, lined with circuitry, to which his cybernetic limbs were attached. "The Technician gave me this tech-vest, which lets me bond any technology t' it an' make it an extension'a myself."

He dragged Roxy towards the kitchen table, where a laptop sat charging. "I'll just plug this 'puter int' th' vest, an' I'll figure out where yer daddy is from that."

Roxy grimaced. "You really want his browser history in your system? You're dumber than I thought."

But then... but then...

...the window over the kitchen sink, already grimy, darkened considerably.

Sidearm frowned.

And then made a startled noise as he realized that the darkness outside the window was moving... was alive...

...that bugs were crawling up the outside of the glass and coming in through the edges...

...ants, dozens, hundreds, thousands of ants, awoken early from their hibernation, pouring in through the tiniest gaps, around wires, up through pipes, sprawling across the floor, rushing towards Sidearm...

"Jesus fuck!" he snarled, and his gun-turret whipped around, spraying purple energy blasts that shredded the floor and carved huge swaths out of the encroaching horde...

Roxy felt the creepy crawlies in her skin and along her spine, and she couldn't help but empathize, just for a moment, with Sidearm's reaction. How many ants were sleeping in the winter walls of Brooklyn, anyhow? She was lucky it wasn't cockroaches.

...but then, catching her eye, along one of the blades of the claw-limb that loomed so close to her jugular...

...she saw a tiny gleaming metal figure with glowing red eyes in a full-tilt lumbering charge.

And she smiled a tiny little smile.

Sprinting along the steely surface of the claw-blade, The Buggernaut's feet adhered to the seamless metal with the effortlessness of an insect.

But when she reached the hilt of that blade, The Buggernaut raised both fists over her helmeted head like a club, and bashed downwards with shattering strength.

The blade snapped clean off, and as it tumbled from its socket, The Buggernaut grabbed the edges, rode it down, hauled sideways so that it twisted and angled and--

--speared like a Legend of Zelda down-thrust right through the wrist of Sidearm's left arm, the one that pinned Roxy in place. Blood spurted, Sidearm screamed, flinched, reeled away, releasing his hostage--

"ROX! RUN!" Roxy heard a tiny voice boom in the distance, and she did her best to dive sideways, just as Sidearm angrily reflexively swatted at the little buggy thing on his arm.

The Buggernaut bounced off of Roxy's sternum even as she hit the floor, and Roxy reflexively caught her in cupped palms.

Snarling in pain and anger, Sidearm swung his turret around to aim at Roxy, evidently deciding she wasn't worth the trouble to keep alive and he'd find another way to get to Rex...

The Buggernaut bounded out of Roxy's hands, stood before her on the torn-up floor, uselessly attempting to shield Roxy with her tiny, invulnerable body. "STAY BEHIND ME, ROX!"

...but the turret sparked and fizzled, emitting useless purple motes, and Sidearm glanced down in horror to find that a swarm of ants had crawled up his leg, up his side, and were gnawing furiously at the place where the turret connected with the tech-vest, interrupting circuits and severing links.

"Little bastards!" he roared, trying to brush them away with his uninjured right arm.

"HAH!" The Buggernaut crowed. "BITES TO BE YOU!"

Sidearm's lip curled. And that gigantic monomolecular metal fist arm, thus far unused, hauled off and punched downwards, knuckles punching a crater into the already-riddled floor...

...and punching The Insurmountable Buggernaut right down through the floor.

The Buggernaut wasn't hurt. Wasn't injured.

But there was a ringing in her helmet like the inside of a church-bell and the sudden disorientation of plunging down into the apartment below and landing on her back on the linoleum didn't do wonders for knowing which way was up.

"Okay," The Buggernaut rumbled as a rather alarmed housecat sniffed at her. "Round two."

A flying ant buzzed to a landing next to her.

Seething, Sidearm tore off strips of his serape in a vain attempt to bandage his arm...

...but then something zipped by his ear, he tried to swat at it...

...his eyes tried to refocus, and glimpsed a flying ant as it soared past his face...

...The Buggernaut had already leaped off of the ant's back, fists akimbo, eyes blazing...

"ONE SIDE, SIDE-EYE!"

And her fist slammed into his jaw, breaking it instantly in three places, dropping him to the floor like a sack of proverbial potatoes-- he crashed down so firmly that the already-straining floor threatened to collapse under the impact.

The Buggernaut landed in a crouch, superhero landing, and stood up straight. She glanced around. "Thanks, guys. Sorry about waking you. And, uh, the casualties."

The ants immediately began to disperse, returning to their collective slumber.

And at that--

SssshhCLICK!

--she was Ruby Reed again.

And she let out a long breath, and offered Roxy a slow smile and a hand up off of the floor.

"Did you see how hot I was just now? Now I need a cigarette."

The Dutch more than anyone are known for their enduring interest in making their abode on the seas. While not a Dutchman, the idea of living on the seas appealed had appealed to Kaldur as early as he could remember, some of his earliest recollections he could recall being on a liner, that man's liner...why 'that man'? why couldn't he just say it? For better or for worse, 'that man' was his father. Their relationship, however estranged as it may have been in the present, couldn't change his memories. More importantly, he thought back to the reunion they had on the U.S.S Ravager only a week ago. At the time, he thought Manta was playing him for a fool, but the more he thought about it, it sounded more like a forewarning, almost like he wanted to dissuade him from his duties, since he'd taken up the mantle of Aquaman, he expected their sides to clash violently... predictably, but nothing of the sort ever came. Did Manta not want to engage him as an adversary? If so, then could he put his comments in another light? A father's concerned plea perhaps? Whatever was coming he'd have to exercise discretion going forward.

...then there was of course the mysterious cyclops woman, Deathstroke's daughter. She caught him of guard in their first encounter, if their paths were to cross again, he wasn't sure if he'd be the one on his back.

After some prolonged bedside brooding, the young Atlantean eventually did come to and begin his day in usual fashion, though not without some residual soreness from the night before. Around 10 in the morning or so, he left the comfort of his houseboat to make his rounds in the nearby Titan Tower.

"Fall Down Seven Times, Get Up Eight." (shared post with Varshanka as Wonder Girl)


Listening as someone called Hayley Williams echoed through the coffee house, Kara sipped the hot black liquid. It was kind of nice the way the bitter tingle teased her tongue.

She’d slipped away after the Kryptonian had been taken, so many police officers had made it easy. She hadn’t wanted to, but she’d needed to. She had to keep Rose safe, even if that meant keeping her safe from the one that wanted to be close to her. She kept hurting Rose, and she didn’t want to do that.

Sighing she closed her eyes and listened. Trying not to think of Rose. Trying to just listen to the blissful soulful notes that caressed her eardrums.

The door to the Sundollar Coffee swung open, and a woman entered.

She was tall, and powerfully-built, relative to your average human woman. And yet she exuded peace and calm, as though that power were kept under disciplined control.

She was also, of course, startlingly beautiful, but that was not a tentpole of her being-- she was a creature to be reckoned with first and foremost, and being ornamental wasn't even tenth and tenthmost down the list. She ordered a... "hazelmint," a concoction she had come to enjoy during her time in Patriarch's World.

And then she approached the girl. The Wonder Girl.

"I am Hope," she informed the smaller blonde woman emblazoned with Amazon regalia. "I would have words with you."

"If it's about the buildings I'm sorry. I don't have a job so I can't pay you for the damage to them." Karan said looking up at the other female. She was attractive to be sure, but she was like a bonfire raging in the summer heat compared to Rose's subtle flickering candle of light on a dark night.

Hope did not quite smile at that, sitting down opposite. "Perhaps I can be of help with that, twofold. Alexander Luthor, my employer, has purchased the damaged warehouse properties and recompensed their companies for the lost inventory. He actually stands to profit somewhat, considering the quantities of mineral nodules in that deposit you... deposited."

"As for the... gainful employment. The same Lex Luthor has requested your presence in a new endeavor. A new League of Justice. What greater calling... than saving the world?"

"Tried doing that. People died. People got hurt, burnt bad. I'm not a world saver. I'm a breaker of things. I hurt people." Karan replied looking up at the lady called Hope.

And ever so softly no human could have heard it unless she was whispering into their ear she sighed. "I hurt her."

Hope was not blessed with the huntress senses of the goddess Artemis. And she certainly wasn't Kryptonian. But she was more than human. Just enough to hear those three words.

Hope pressed her full lips into a thin line. "I know not your connection to The Amazons. I and a few of my sisters left Themyscira many years ago as reckoned by the calendars of Patriarch's World. But I know that symbol, I know that it is worn only by the chosen champion of our people, The Wonder Woman. It was worn by an Amazon of great power and wisdom and courage called 'Diana,' who served The Justice League with distinction until her... disappearance."

"And now it is worn by you. If you truly seek to honor that symbol and those who have worn it before you..." she leaned in over her coffee, eyes gleaming with a tightly-controlled intensity. "...you will learn to break the right things, and hurt the right people. If you have lost honor by causing harm to an innocent or a loved one, then reclaim that honor. You will not find honor in a cup of coffee diluted by tears."

Realizing this lady was right, even if it looked like it may come to a brawling match. Karan listen as Hayley sang. It sounded like another's song, but it was Rose's voice she heard.

'Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed

Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed

Some say love, it is a hunger an endless aching need

I say love, it is a flower and you, it's only seed

It's the heart, afraid of breaking that never learns to dance

It's the dream, afraid of waking that never takes the chance

It's the one who won't be taken who cannot seem to give

And the soul, afraid of dying that never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long

And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong

Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snow

Lies the seed that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes the Rose...'

"Ok... but.. I can't kill anyone.. I might throw up if I do.."

Having waited while Karan drew inspiration from the song, Hope didn't quite smile at that final answer. And she nodded her head.

"While I believe we should train you to have a... sterner stomach."

"There is no shame in being a warrior of peace. I did not know Diana... personally. But I believe she would be proud."

Hope rose from her seat, and offered Karan her hand.

"Come with me."

"My morals got me on my knees." (Hotline/Luthor)

Nubian_Legend said:

After some prolonged bedside brooding, the young Atlantean eventually did come to and begin his day in usual fashion, though not without some residual soreness from the night before. Around 10 in the morning or so, he left the comfort of his houseboat to make his rounds in the nearby Titan Tower.

Click to expand...

As Kaldur made his rounds, Ruby Reed would emerge from her dorm room in The Tower, dressed in a fresh a-shirt and jeans with dangling suspenders, drying her still-damp hair.

And she offered him a chin-up nod in greeting and her trademark lopsided smile.

"Mornin', Kal. I was just getting caught up on the headlines. You had a busy night!"


Titans Tower sat on an island in the East River of New York City.

It was accessible by a small ferry, but you could only get in if you were a member of The Titans, and had a Titans communicator to cue the biometric scanners to permit entry.

Onto the waiting ferry, there drew a tastefully stretched limousine with deceptively armored skin and a Romanaclef engine.

The woman driving was roguish, slender, petite, with darkly blonde hair, dressed in a suit.

She seemed... dubious. "It's Tuesday morning, Lex. Don't some of these people have day jobs? How do you know anyone will be home?"

In the back, Lex Luthor reclined almost languidly, confident in the arc of the day. "Oh, I'm reliably informed that it's standard procedure in these places to have someone on 'Monitor Duty.' And even if people aren't around, I'm sure plenty of alarm bells will go off the moment the security systems detect this vehicle, much less my person. My undeserved reputation will precede me. It always does with these people. Either I will meet with Aquaman shortly, or someone will bring him my message. Regardless, my point will be made."

She squinted. "Still not convinced that getting into bed with the white hats is your most genius move ever. There's so much at stake right now. The election, in case you've forgotten."

He smirked at her reflection in the rearview. "Mercy. Do I ever forget? Anything? Much less the stakes? The colors of the hats involved couldn't be less relevant."

Lex appeared to pause. "Are you all here? If one of the hotheaded numbskulls decides to swing at me against their best interests..."

"I'm all here, Lex," Mercy Graves assured him.

Lex nodded simply as the ferry docked at The Tower, then straightened his tie and stepped out of the car, not even waiting for Mercy to open his door. "Excellent. Then let us parlay."

John 8:1-11. (shared post with Varshanka's Ghost Rider)


Sitting at the counter, Danni watched her reflection (and the room) in the mirror. The black wrap around shades hide her eyes well as she downed shot after shot of Everclear. After the seventh the bartender looked at her like she was insane.

“look, you wanna die, I don’t care just not in my bar.”

Sighing she dropped a hundred on the counter, then performed a slow leisurely backflip handstand. Walking across the room on her hands she wove between the bikers and truckers to the dart board. After uprighting herself she collected all the darts and walked back to the bar.

A scowl from the bartender, and she sent each of the darts rocketing to the board.. forty feet away.

The first sank to she haft in the solid cork. The second sparked as it impacted the tail of the first. The third scrapped the first, sinking in next to it. All three were center board. A triple.

Flipping the barkeep off she grabbed the bottle and started drinking. Moments later she rolled her head, bones in her neck popping in response to the hand on her ass. “Damn that was sexy. You should ride with me. I’ll protect that fine ass of yours. Cause no one touches my bitch. But me.”

Looking at the biker’s reflection Danni sighed. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

“’s’cuse me? Bitch?” the biker asked through his beer matted beard as his cigarette wobbled up and down.

Turning around Danni reached up and caressed his cheek, her thumb slowly sliding into his mouth to caress his tongue. And just as he began to smile, her thumb slide to the side. Grabbing his lower jaw she stood up, twisting his head to the side.

“ ‘With the jawbone of a donkey, Heaps upon heaps, With the jawbone of a donkey I have killed a thousand men.’ Spoke Samson.” She said her voice slowly rising. “Samson killed a thousand men with the jawbone of an ass. How many asses can I kill with the jawbone of a man?”


Standing in the middle of the bar Danni looked around the room. She hadn’t had a good fight in a long while. Not without surrendering to The Rider and just letting it take over.

Turning she looked at the bar, the broken tables, the well and truly fucked up Bikers and truckers and the one guy sitting off by himself in the corner table. Watching her.

Grabbing the Everclear off the counter she walked over to him. He was so out of place he screamed creeper stalker killer. Or cop.

Perhaps fortunately for both of them, he was a cop.

Even plainclothes, not wearing his gold-and-blue uniform with the helmet and shield, he was one Hell of a cop.

Jim "The Guardian of Metropolis" Harper sipped his Arnold Palmer and began, not for the first time since his "promotion" to SCU Captain, to wish he could drink something a little harder on the clock.

But that was against regs, and his body was a temple, and today wasn't cheat day.

As Danni Ketch approached, he set his glass down, and smiled wearily at her, gesturing to the seat beside him at the table which was, remarkably, still standing on all four legs.

"A case could be made that all of that was domino-effect self-defense. And I don't suppose for a minute I'm going to convince you to come in for questioning."

He sipped his drink again, and mused.

"This particular biker gang is suspected of dealing meth in Suicide Slum and using the resort casinos here in Senneville to launder the money, so I can give us... five minutes to talk before I call in a couple of ambulances and a small army of unis? I think that's fair. What do you say?"

"Don't ask me to look to deeply at them. Otherwise it would get.. painful for everyone." Danni replied as she slid into a seat across from him, her black as soulless shades still affixed over her eyes.

"Yes," Jim nodded, pursed his lips, toyed with the glass on the table. "I've been... briefed."

"As for calling the constabulary, your choice. No camera's in here. Besides, who's gonna believe I could hurt them?" she asked.

"'Constabulary,'" he mused. "That reminds me of an old Gilbert and Sullivan number. Besides, I'm not here to debate legal theory with you, and that's eating into our five minutes."

Leaning over she pulled a pack of cigarettes from a victim's pocket and lit up with a touch of her finger. "So.. creeper .. or constable?"

"Depends on your definition," Jim admitted. "Technically, I'm not here as a captain of the Metropolis Police Department, but as an employee of LexCorp, of which the MetroPD is a wholly-owned subsidiary."

"Never been fond of private individuals owning the Law.."

Jim smiled faintly. "Militarization of police is a hot-button issue, no question, and with militarization comes the military-industrial complex. But this world is getting more and more dangerous and the police are more and more powerless to stop it. I won't deny that Luthor's politics scare the Heck out of me, but he's given us a fighting chance."

"Speaking of whom, Luthor saw footage of your work a week ago, stopping the out-of-control Kryptonian from destroying midtown. He's looking to recruit you and the other heroes you worked with for a New Justice League, to fill the void left by the previous League. Me personally, I'm not convinced you can play well with others, but I can't deny you've got chops in a fight."

"I don't play well with others. Never have. Not even when this all started." She said giving a gesture that could have encompassed anything, or everything. "What do you know about me? How did you track me down? Street camera's?"

Harper was older than he looked. Or at least... his memory went further back than his youthful features would suggest. And the way she said when all this started, it suggested to him a longer game than he would ever have thought.

"Since Luthor fortified local law enforcement with his private initiatives," Harper reflected, "Metropolis has become one of the only cities on Earth with more CCTV than London. On top of that, he has satellites with infrared tracking and a couple of haruspexes on payroll."

He hesitated. "I never was that into magic stuff. Is that the right plural for 'haruspex?' Anyway, apparently you ping real loud and clear on Ouija Boards, leave a lot of supernatural froth in your wake."

"Hera Speaks.. Interesting. Suffer not a witch to live sayeth the Lord." Danni rplied with the side of her mouth rising slightly. Almost like she was going to smile.

"As for what I know about you," he shrugged. "About this you. This... human side. I know absolutely nothing. I don't even know if this is the real you or just a disguise. But in the fight against the runaway Kryptonian, you showed a vast array of powers. Powers Luthor wants in this New League, powers he wants to be put to use punishing the, ah, guilty, and protecting the innocent."

"This is the face I was born with. Both sides.. are me. One coin two faces you could say. Kinda like the green guy, from what I understand." Taking a very long pull on the bottle in her hand she almost emptied it, offering it to him, just in case he wanted something.. stronger than what he was tasting.

He took a second to grok that reference. At first glance, he thought she was referring to The Martian Manhunter. But oh, right, pop culture. "I'm good, but thanks."

"If I do join your little gathering, I play by my own rules. I will follow the best I'm allowed. Unless something doesn't let me do what you want. I walk away if I can't follow This Lex's rules. If he tries to follow, bother, harass, impede, or obstruct me from my own.. duty I will pass Judgment on him and act accordingly."

"The law has gotten... flexible, over the years," Harper admitted, reminding himself not to be a hypocrite about this considering his own history as an extralegal costumed adventurer, "with regards to vigilantism. Civil rights and due process and so forth. But you would be at least expected to keep civilian casualties and property damage to an absolute minimum. And you are not to kill tangos unless absolutely necessary-- neutralize and detain-- the one thing keeping superheroes in the good graces of actual law enforcement is the prevailing tendency to not act as executioners."

"In exchange, you would be given a place at modern-day Round Table. Become part of a myth. And be granted resources to do good works on an unprecedented scale. If you can agree to those terms. Think about it."

Closing her eyes she looked at the table as slipped off her sunglasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose for a moment.

He leaned back in his seat for a moment, examining her. She really was quite striking. He finished the rest of his Palmer. And let her think.

' “This is the oath of a Knight of King Arther's Round Table and should be for all of us to take to heart. I will develop my life for the greater good. I will place character above riches, and concern for others above personal wealth, I will never boast, but cherish humility instead, I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word, I will defend those who cannot defend themselves, I will honor and respect women, and refute sexism in all its guises, I will uphold justice by being fair to all, I will be faithful in love and loyal in friendship, I will abhor scandals and gossip-neither partake nor delight in them, I will be generous to the poor and to those who need help, I will forgive when asked, that my own mistakes will be forgiven, I will live my life with courtesy and honor from this day forward.' That's what Arth'r said in Le Morte d'Arthur by Mallory."

Harper listened attentively, then nodded once. "Amen," he replied. He wasn't sure if he should say "amen" or not, but if that wasn't a prayer, it was as good as one.

"They were all hypocrits." she added with a sigh.

His lip quirked faintly. "Well. Nobody's perfect."

"I have never murdered anyone. I have killed when required, when no other option presented itself. Although I have allowed a few to take their own lives."

His eyebrows bunched. "Generally we'd encourage actively preserving their lives. There's always the chance that they could be... rehabilitated. That they could find redemption."

Reaching out she poured the bottle on the table, then with a gentle seeming flick of her wrist crashed it against the wall across the room.

Drawing in the puddle, the tip of her finger leaving a trail of steam she made curious signs and symbols on the table top. Almost like she was writing in some alien code language, with how some of the symbols almost looked like crop circles.

Harper watched this, bewildered yet fascinated. He was no shining knight... he had no idea what such emblems could mean, whether they were holy writ or extraterrestrial or Kawatche or nonsense or a combo platter of all of the above.

"Will Constantine be involved in this.. round table of yours? Will there be a King Arth'r, Mearlynn, Gwynnever, Modred, or Lanc'lot?"

"There was an actual King named Arthur in The Justice League that has gone missing," Jim noted with some mild surprise, as though that reference had never occurred to him and now he wondered why people didn't make that reference more often. "And where he's gone now, we don't know. We hope he comes back. In his absence, his... squire... I guess? Would be serving in his stead. I'm sure everyone in this League will have roles to play as it unfolds, I don't consider myself well-read enough to make those distinctions."

"As for... John Constantine. Well. We're grateful for his help in getting Aquaman back on his feet. But he's not invited. Of course, he tends to turn up mostwhen he's not invited. But he won't be our Merlin." (Harper's pronunciation didn't have the Arthurian nuance that Danni's did.) "We were sort of hoping you would be, actually, our Merlin-- our League's specialist on the supernatural."

Pausing, her finger twitched and the table smoked where she touched it. "Mearlynn's mother was a witch and his father was a deamon.. a Baelseraph.. that is not a wise 'comparison' to make." She cautioned him, her finger continuing it's trail on the tabletop.

"I mean, I'm no expert," Harper hesitated. "But in the version I read as a young man, Merlin's mother sought absolution from a priest while she was pregnant, got him blessed in utero. So when Merlin was born, he had demonic ancestry but none of the taint. So, uh, that's the version I was comparing you to, in my head. Maybe that's not so bad?"

"If Constantine and I cross paths.. Justice will be served and he will be JUDGED. To long has he consorted with unclean things. To long has he 'avoided' me."

Harper nodded simply at that. "Constantine plays a long game, and a dangerous one. I'm not encouraging you to uncork whatever mojo you've got on him. But I know you can't piss on an electric fence like he does for very long without getting zapped."

Looking up, her sunglasses forgotten on the table she looked at him. Two sets of eyes, one somehow inside her, behind the other human eyes. A pair of glowing hate filled embers of fire and punishment. "Only HE gives Redemption. And not Everyone can be Redeemed."

To his credit, Harper's wild-yonder eyes never wavered. He just gazed back, with that rare courage that feels fear but does what it has to anyway.

"Not everyone will be," Harper conceded. "But the way my chaplain told it, only God knows who'll take Him up on salvation and who won't. And it's up to us to try for everyone. Everyone can be. But not everyone will be."

"It's up to us."

Picking up her sunglasses, Danni slipped them back over her eyes. But once seen, that internal glow couldn't be unseen. "I'll play with your Knights-Errant for a while... but I make no promises for how long I stay. Or what role I'll play."

With one hand she picked up the cigarette again, the other reaching out for his hand. But that hand that was extended was shackled in chain and steel armour. It may have been silver and gold once, but now it was aged with smoke and fire. The visage and horns demonic in nature. "Just remember," the Rider said from within. "I warned you. I don't play well with others..."

Again, he didn't flinch.

Would she Judge him now, was that how this worked?

He had fought in World War 2, and he had killed Nazis, but he hadn't killed them to kill them-- he'd killed them to stop them from hurting people. Then he'd gotten hurt, and sent home, and he'd joined the police to keep the homefront safe. When that wasn't enough, he took up the shield and helmet of The Guardian to keep his city of Metropolis a City of Tomorrow.

When he'd grown too old for that life, he had retired to bed and withered away.

But some of the boys he'd saved over the years had grown up to be scientists. And they saved him in turn, cloned him a new young body to house his mind, stronger than he'd ever been.

All those years. He'd made plenty of mistakes. He had plenty of regrets.

But he had owned those mistakes. And he'd fought to make up for those regrets.

She could Judge him if she wanted, with her fire-and-brimstone eyes, her Jacob Marley chains.

But he had faith that if he were weighed and measured by this crucible, he would not be found wanting. If he were found wanting, he would move Heaven and Earth to become Good Enough.

He was The Guardian. He had to be.

When she was done, he offered her a card.

"Be here, at this date and time. Give it a chance. That's all I ask."

"We're none of us ever too old to learn a new way to do the right thing."

Dipping it's helm of blackened silver and ash The Rider acquiesced to the Guardians request. "Haruspexi.." It whispered as the writing on the table smoldered and flashed. When the light dimmed enough to see once more, the rider was gone, and the table had been forever burned with writing that glowed. Writing no one would agree on. Few could identify it, and none that could would speak what they believed it said.

Harper remembered another story the chaplain had told him.

When people had brought Jesus an adulterous woman, trying to convince Him to stone her, He instead began writing something in the dirt. When they kept egging Him on to say something they could use to trap Him and shame Him, He instead told them: "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."

And kept writing in the dust with His finger.

One by one, realizing that none of them were without sin, the accusers walked away.

When Jesus found that no man had remained to condemn the woman, He said "Then neither do I condemn you. Go, and sin no more."

Harper had always wondered what Jesus had been writing in that dirt.

He wondered now if it had been anything like the writing The Ghost Rider had just left behind on the tabletop.

"Hm," he murmured, blinking the afterimages out of his eyes. "'Haruspexi.' Is that right? Hell if I know."

He stood, and walked from the bar, the various wounded bikers groaning behind him, and touched his earpiece. It had been five minutes. Give or take.

"Dispatch. There's been an altercation out on Hell's Gate. I'm going to need a few buses and more than a few black-and-whites. Superhero barfights always mean a ton of paperwork..."

It wasn't until he was halfway down the corridor, that he heard a voice speak out. He turned to face the presence of his caller. It was none other than Ruby Reed -- Hotline. He returned the gesture with an approving nod though a smile would be harder for him to mail in, so he kept an even timbre. Ever since the reformation of the titans under Nightwing and himself, there'd been a need to expand their ranks beyond the typical sort, in some ways the superhero community is well...a country club. Affiliation and legacies matter more than they should.

Ruby was one such case of the kind of hero Kaldur was looking to include in the New Titans. Her powers as impressive enough as they were, hadn't quite caught "on" with some, despite her obvious talents. She was one of the types that should have been considered for league membership. Though you could hardly call her a "teen" titan.

"Aren't you a little too old to be here?" A little humor at her expense, though he hadn't been a teenager himself in years.

"Good morning to you as well Hotline...Grappling a naked kryptonian isn't nearly as satisfying an experience as you would think. Still, I'm left with some questions. Say Ruby. Where do you think they grow Kryptonians these days? You think there's like a farm somewhere?

Listen...I know you can synthesize attributes of various alien races through that device of yours. I was hoping that Dial had a wealth of knowledge on existing extraterrestrial races as well, like an Extraterrestrial-dex, but does it do more than just that, right ?

What I trying to learn is...can it determine your place of origin? Your history? I guess that would be a little too "omni-like" for even that level of technology.


Abruptly, the media monitor in the tower came alive and the sight of what came next on the screen broke Kaldur out of his usual relaxed timbre. He could only curse as he thought to his earlier comments about Kryptonians being cultivated on farms. It made sense even though he couldn't quite piece together the "why" behind it. Red flags were definitely raised in his mind.

"This can't be good." He gave Hotline a sort of incredulous look before engaging the wealthy encroacher.

"I'll send someone to meet you at the entrance. Mind yourself Luthor. I'm not exactly in the mood. " Speaking into the communicator which relayed on the other end. His body was shaking in controlled tranquil rage.

His glance falling onto the only other Titan in present company. "...You think you could accompany me? I'm going to make sure he doesn't have anything on his person. It would be nice to have some backup. "

I feel it in my veins, its not going away, everything's about to change.

(Hotline/Luthor)

Nubian_Legend said:

She was one of the types that should have been considered for league membership. Though you could hardly call her a "teen" titan.

"Aren't you a little too old to be here?" A little humor at her expense, though he hadn't been a teenager himself in years.

Click to expand...

"Haha," Ruby snorted wryly, good-naturedly, pulling up her suspenders so they were up on her shoulders. "Just 'cause I've hit the big 3-0 doesn't mean you need to stop respecting your elders, kiddo."

The "Teen" in Teen Titans was an increasingly hilarious misnomer these days. But of course when the team reformed, there were plenty of a new generation of heroic metahumans in need of mentorship, and for a handful of those new heroes, The Titans were that training program and social club.

Nubian_Legend said:

"Good morning to you as well Hotline...Grappling a naked kryptonian isn't nearly as satisfying an experience as you would think."

Click to expand...

"I suppose that'd depend on the Kryptonian, hey?" Ruby mused, idly, wistfully, smirkingly wondering after the possible female Kryptonian sighted in the battle last night. "And on the grappling."

Nubian_Legend said:

"Still, I'm left with some questions. Say Ruby. Where do you think they grow Kryptonians these days? You think there's like a farm somewhere?"

Click to expand...

Ruby wrinkled her nose, groomed one of her eyebrows with her tattooed knuckles. "Got me swinging. You think it's Cadmus again?"

Nubian_Legend said:

"Listen...I know you can synthesize attributes of various alien races through that device of yours. I was hoping that Dial had a wealth of knowledge on existing extraterrestrial races as well, like an Extraterrestrial-dex, but does it do more than just that, right? What I trying to learn is...can it determine your place of origin? Your history? I guess that would be a little too "omni-like" for even that level of technology."

Click to expand...

Shaking her head quietly, pensively, Ruby tugged The H-Dial out of her pocket.

Potentially, it ranked as an artifact on the same scale as your average Lantern Corps Ring. But it was... persnickety. Unpredictable.

"I've had this thing for two decades and while I've experimented with different spellings, different combinations of letters, different phone numbers, all to... bizarre effect... really it's still as much a mystery to me as it was the day I found it buried under me granddad's hometown. Even more so, now that it's changed to a cellphone shape, apropos of fucking nada. If there's any more apps on this thing that I haven't unlocked yet, a Hypertime Wikipedia, Omniversal Geographic, that'd be news to me. Whatever operators or admins are running the switchboard back wherever The Dial came from, they're awful bluddy fucking stingy with instruction manuals and EULAs."

She paused, considered. "I have, super rarely, been able to get this thing to give me something approaching the Hero I want in a given situation. By sort of... begging, pleading, hoping. It doesn't always work. It almost never does. But sometimes. Perhaps I could Dial a Hero with some kind of hypersensory ability that I could use to forensically backtrace this new Kryptonian's origins, or ESP-- psychometry, clairsentience, post-cognition. Maybe we'll get lucky."

Nubian_Legend said:

Abruptly, the media monitor in the tower came alive and the sight of what came next on the screen broke Kaldur out of his usual relaxed timbre. He could only curse as he thought to his earlier comments about Kryptonians being cultivated on farms. It made sense even though he couldn't quite piece together the "why" behind it. Red flags were definitely raised in his mind.

"This can't be good." He gave Hotline a sort of incredulous look before engaging the wealthy encroacher.

Click to expand...

Hotline met Aquaman's incredulity in kind, tension ratcheting up her spine, eyebrows arching up her forehead. Anything that could rattle Kaldur'ahm's legendary grace under pressure...

It wouldn't be the first time a supervillain had shown up on their doorstep to make trouble. But usually it was a frontal assault, and Luthor, supervillainy thus far unprovable in a court of law, was usually far more slippery and Machiavellian than that. What could Lex be trying to pull?

Nubian_Legend said:

"I'll send someone to meet you at the entrance. Mind yourself Luthor. I'm not exactly in the mood. " Speaking into the communicator which relayed on the other end. His body was shaking in controlled tranquil rage.

Click to expand...

As the public address system at the base of The Tower boomed Aquaman's imperious proclamation, Lex Luthor did up a button on his suit, straightened his tie, squared his shoulders, and smirked a... tolerant smirk.

"Well, it seems that this next generation of costumed crusaders has inherited their sense of hospitality from their elders and betters," Luthor remarked. "But as you say, I shall be on my very best behavior. I have a proposal, after all, from which we might mutually benefit."

While Mercy was candid with Lex while only they could hear each other, she fell silent now, standing beside and behind him and quietly bristling. She didn't quite have the "power under control" or "gentle giant" demeanor of her counterpart Hope, but she was disciplined enough to hold her tongue until Lex gave the word.

Lex, however, glanced at her, and couldn't resist another dig, whether Aquaman was still listening or not: "Honestly, these millennial superheroes. Did you hear the contempt in his tone? One wonders who died and made him king..."

Nubian_Legend said:

His glance falling onto the only other Titan in present company. "...You think you could accompany me? I'm going to make sure he doesn't have anything on his person. It would be nice to have some backup. "

Click to expand...

"You got it, mate," Ruby nodded, then grinned her lopsided grin, holding up The H-Dial and sliding it open to reveal the numerals. "You might say I've got backup on speed-dial."

Hiro meets Nathan!

Hiro was seated on the couch before a large flat screen TV, thumbs and fingers a blur on a Game Station controller. Behind a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses (gamer glasses sssh!), he frowned so hard at the game in concentration that red energy beams might have shot from his eyes—if he had been Kryptonian. On the screen, a guy with a red cape and a ridiculously huge bastard sword was running around, slaying hundreds upon hundreds of demons with each swing.

Huuuaaah! Hrrraaaah! the swordsman in the game cried.

“That’s right. Kill these demon bastards,” Hiro muttered.

Behind him, the door locks rattled as the main door of his dorm suddenly opened. Glancing over his shoulder curiously, Hiro glanced back at the game to quickly pause it before he turned on the couch to stare blankly at the blonde young man who had one huge red camping-looking bag on his back, an overstuffed book bag in his left hand, and a luggage bag rolling along in his right. He leaned forward as he squeezed through the front door to pop into the common room with a stagger. With a long and exhausted sigh, he dropped and shrugged free his bags to let them spill on the floor. The poor tween’s face was flushed from his journey and damp with sweat.

Blue eyes rolled over to glance at Hiro before he noticed the Asian kid was staring at him.

“Are…you my roommate?” Hiro asked.

Glancing around as though there had been someone behind him, Nathan blushed and replied sheepishly, “Uh…yeah?”

Hiro then broke the ice with a smile and greeted cheerfully, “Hey Bro! My name is Hiro Kitagawa. Sophomore.”

Nathan smiled some and turned to close the dorm room behind him. Afterwards, he walked over to his new roommate and shook his hand.

“Nathan Fawcett.”

“What? Like Fawcett City, ha!”

“Actually. Yeah. That’s where I’m from.”

“No way!”

“You?”

“Nowhere special. Just San Francisco.”

“Well, Cali’s pretty cool.”

“Yup!

Nathan grinned and then turned to his stuff. “Well, I’m just going to move all of this stuff into my room.”

Hiro’s brows then rose as he just remembered. Oh shit! I have a roommate!

Immediately, he zipped away from the couch and into his room. Nathan paused as he gathered his bags to gaze quizzically over his shoulder and saw that Hiro was gone. He heard a bedroom door quickly slam and blinked.

Hiro was tearing down all the selfies he had stupidly taken dressed as Silver Bullet and all the pictures of all the foreign countries and wonders he had visited. He darted about his room like a whirlwind with hands crammed full of photos.

“Did I say something?” Nathan’s voice came through the door as he trudged his way to his room.

“Oh no; I just…uh…I just need to clean my room. I would feel embarrassed if you saw the mess.”

“It’s no big deal to me.”

Hiro crammed all the pictures under his mattress and then quickly glanced around to make sure there weren’t anymore. With a relieved sigh, he hung his head and his shoulders and walked back out of his room to return to baking on the couch before his game.

Man…I’ll have to be careful with racing out of here now. If Nathan found out that I was a super hero…

Hiro’s eyes grew large for a moment. He’d probably want to be my sidekick. Oh man, so awesome. No wait. He would just get hurt and he won’t be able to keep up with me.

Scowling, Hiro sank back against the couch cushions with a long frown on his face. Damn. Why did I have to get a roommate?”