Justice League: The New Wave (IC)

If there was an anxious nerve in his being, it didn't show through his guarded expression. Internally, was a different matter. He just stood there in awkward poise long after the vehicle departed from their purview. In his trance-like state, he'd been approached by Hotline her own input on the matter, which he didn't have an immediate response for.

"So there wasn't enough money on Earth to buy off Superman. So instead he went wholesale and bought the whole damn Justice League. I don't envy you that gig, Kal."

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"...Oh, yes. About that. I needed to get Luthor to open up about the metropolis assault, I feel like that is the underlying linchpin to Luther's strategy. Consider this an ongoing investigation. We'll have to project ourselves as co-operative on the surface and pursue our own agenda in secret. The best way to do this is to have everyone on-board. Do you think you can co-operate with me in our "partnership" with Luthor? "

Without missing a beat, he turned facing Hotline. "You know I could use a strong genderqueer woman by my side." A smirk turning upon his features and he gave her a sort of look. Batting his eyes in a playful manner.

Blood type Krylon, Technicolor type A. (Hotline)

Nubian_Legend said:

"...Oh, yes. About that. I needed to get Luthor to open up about the metropolis assault, I feel like that is the underlying linchpin to Luther's strategy. Consider this an ongoing investigation. We'll have to project ourselves as co-operative on the surface and pursue our own agenda in secret. The best way to do this is to have everyone on-board. Do you think you can co-operate with me in our "partnership" with Luthor? "

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Ruby stared at him for a long moment, eyebrows climbing her forehead, and rocking back more than a little on her heels.

"Hold on, hey, what? Are you asking me to be your plus-one on The Justice League?"

Nubian_Legend said:

Without missing a beat, he turned facing Hotline. "You know I could use a strong genderqueer woman by my side." A smirk turning upon his features and he gave her a sort of look. Batting his eyes in a playful manner.

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She snorted, half-covering her face with one hand.

"Christ, mate. You had to play the Pride card."

"Yeah, all right. I'll help you give the middle finger to Alexander the Not-So-Great, maybe save the world a little while we're at it."

She smirked. "'Symvíosi,'" she intoned, mock-ominously, a parody of Lex, and the proto-Greek sounded even more exaggerated in her Australian accent. "'Together.'"

My reach is global. My tower secure. My cause is noble. My power is pure. (Luthor)


For those who arrived after Wonder Girl and Ghost Rider had shown up in the hustle and bustle beforehand, there would be almost no sign of that chaos and disarray.

Between the efforts of the scurrying workers and the methodical multidroids, the building now practically shone where before onlookers would have seen grime and clutter and trip hazards.

From the outside, the building would resemble nothing more than a standard MetroPD precinct house. And indeed, it had a contingent of uniformed officers in attendance. But when one entered the bulletproofed sliding glass doors, the layout would immediately strike whoever clapped eyes upon it as being something... more.

So much gleaming steel in the design, it oozed futurism, but it also reflected the art deco undercurrent that ran throughout Metropolis' architecture.

And to counterpoint the silver sheen, the decor incorporated highly stylized gold shields shaped like the silhouette of the symbol of the original Justice League of America.

There were offices and labs, a garage, dormitories, training ranges...

...and at the heart of the building, a great domed room with a wide round table ringed with chairs. It would be at this table that the heroes would sit.

And Lex Luthor stood beside the table, arms draped loosely behind himself. Beside him and behind him stood both Mercy and Hope, and behind them were two younger women, one black and put-together, and the other blonde and cheerfully retro-odd, and one twentysomething woman in a black suit.

"All of you know why you are here," Lex proclaimed. "To be the founding members of a new incarnation of the legendary Justice League. These are dark days for us all, and it is paramount that we hold high the torch borne by your predecessors to light those days... just as they might have done."

"In a moment of great peril, many of you came together with your unique resources, abilities, and skillsets, and put a stop to a danger that could have laid waste to this city if left unchecked-- if not the whole Eastern Seaboard. You have been asked here to bring those inimitable elements together again for the good of all mankind. The rest of you have been brought in to complement and supplement the strengths of that original band, to ensure that we are prepared to face anything that the villainous forces of this world might throw at us."

"What you may not realize," Lex considered, "is where 'here' is."

"In rolling out the next iteration of the Special Crimes Unit of The Metropolis Police Department, I wanted to make absolutely certain that our boys in blue had access to the utmost bleeding edge of resources in order to cope with a world where we could no longer rely on a Superman to protect us. We envisioned a squad clad in the highest-tech armor available, affectionately dubbed 'Team Luthor.' Indeed, you should have seen the armor we had lined up for our beloved Guardian, Captain Harper. This precinct house had been slated to go live a month from now... however."

He leaned forward, placing his knuckles on the stainless-steel surface of the table. "In the wake of this extraterrestrial's rampage, it became increasingly evident that greater strides needed to be made, and faster, in order to keep our world safe and secure against all threats, foreign, domestic, and extraplanetary. Thus, my teams worked around the clock to advance the timetable, and to adapt this structure to not be a simple police station, but a Hall of Justice for a new generation. The crimefighting resources that would have been at the fingertips of these bright and shining officers of the law fall now to you, and I am quite sure you will utilize them to the best of your surpassing abilities."

He gestured to the three women standing just past his bodyguards.

"And who better to incarnate such resources, than the finest minds available? These are Natasha Irons, whom I personally headhunted from local think-tank Steelworks to be your Operations Technology specialist, going beyond a mechanic or a technician to provide and repair all the advanced machinery required by such an endeavor; Dr. Serling Roquette, late of The Cadmus Project, one of the foremost pioneers in genetics research and metahuman medicine, she will be tending any injuries you may suffer as well as serving as a consultant against threats of a biological and xenobiological nature; and Special Agent Cameron Chase of The Department of Extranormal Operations, here to serve as a liaison officer with The US Government and as oversight to make certain that your undertakings as privately-funded metahuman defense force remain securely... aboveboard."

"They, a contingent of MetroPD officers, and a small battalion of synthetic multidroids will make more than certain you have all the support you need to make this world not just a safer place, but a better one."

Resting a hand on the back of one of the chairs not already occupied by a superhero, he smiled invitingly.

"I imagine one or more of you may have questions, comments, perhaps a few accusations? The floor is quite open to discussion."

The Rider.. speaks..

Resting a hand on the back of one of the chairs not already occupied by a superhero, he smiled invitingly.

"I imagine one or more of you may have questions, comments, perhaps a few accusations? The floor is quite open to discussion."

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Looking around the room, it’s face hidden behind the flaming biker helmet, The Rider spoke. “I see your Table Round, Met the man that will be Your Arthur, Your Lancelot, Merlin, Galahad, as well as several other Knights and Ladies of status and repute.” It said giving a nod to Wondergirl when it spoke of Lancelot, and then Rose, Nightwing and others.

“But my question is this.. Who will be your Moderātus.. and your Morgaine le Faye?” it asked, and demanded, turning it’s head to took at the room. Refusing to look at Luther or his henchmen.

Look now, what have they sold you? (Rose/M'gann/Luthor/Hotline)

Varshanka said:

Looking around the room, it’s face hidden behind the flaming biker helmet, The Rider spoke. “I see your Table Round, Met the man that will be Your Arthur, Your Lancelot, Merlin, Galahad, as well as several other Knights and Ladies of status and repute.” It said giving a nod to Wondergirl when it spoke of Lancelot, and then Rose, Nightwing and others.

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Rose, in her guise as Martian Manhuntress, sitting next to her beautiful friend Karan-- her red red eyes widened at the idea that she might be... Merlin? She was having serious trouble grokking this allegory. But she managed to nod back with gratitude, whatever The Rider was talking about.

It wasn't enough that she was still overwhelmed at the whole... idea... of all of this. Mysterious locations that came to her in a dream, talk of carrying torches in the dark. And now the eerie burning lady was talking in riddles.

Varshanka said:

“But my question is this.. Who will be your Moderātus.. and your Morgaine le Faye?” it asked, and demanded, turning it’s head to took at the room. Refusing to look at Luther or his henchmen.

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And the riddle grew only deeper.

Rose glanced worriedly at the industrialist who was running the show.

But Luthor simply arched an amused eyebrow at The Rider's demanded question, and watched the show.

If ever she had really really wished to know what someone was thinking, it was now. But his thought processes were Byzantine, infinitely fractally branching. She couldn't nail down a single track...

Instead, Rose focused in on the question at hand.

"I know who Morgan le Fay was," Rose hesitated. "I read a lot. But Moderatus?"

"Means 'Mordred,'" Hotline spoke up. "From the Latin."

She wore a blue pinstriped suit with a white shirt, a burgundy and blue paisley tie loose around her throat. Her red Chuck Taylor sneakers were up on the table, and she squinted pensively at The Rider.

"Your metaphor's a bit oblique, mate, I don't mind saying, even if I don't know you from Adam and Steve. After all, Morgana was a healer in some versions of the legend, so if anyone's our Morgan it's the pretty doctor lady with the Boss Smiley earrings. Then again, Morgan came from Avalon, the Island of Apples, and the only one of those I can think of off the top of my head is Tasmania-- which is close to my neck of the woods, but not exactly right. So you can see how we'd interpret that any number of ways; might wanna be clearer when you speak so you don't kill the conversation."

Ruby examined her fingernails. "Dunno who you think our Mordred might be, considering his defining attribute was that he was a traitor. It's a little early in the game to start tossing that accusation around, hey? Save that for at least the second episode. Let's get to know these people, first. We can decide later to hang people for treason."

Hiro - Silver Bullet Ka-chow!

Hiro had been listening to Luthor’s explanation of the guild…was this a guild? Maybe a faction? Club? League? Yeah, League. That was right. He could barely sit still in his chair and his teeth were clenched in a bright grin—he just couldn’t stop smiling. This was so cool! He didn’t think that this would ever happen to him.

I imagine one or more of you may have questions, comments, perhaps a few accusations? The floor is quite open to discussion.

Hiro’s hand shot straight up in the air as he rose a little in his seat. “Oh! I do!”

Once he got Luthor’s attention, he stood up with his hands slapping down on the tabletop in his excitement.

“Let me first start off by saying just…WOW! A Justice League, WHAT!? We’re a Justice League? For real? And Lex Luthor is running the show. Oh man! Oh man-oh man-oh man! This is just…this is blowing my mind right now!”

Calming down his fan boy enthusiasm for a moment, Hiro’s brows rose in concern over his silver facemask. “But oh yeah, um…how long is this meeting going to be?”

He glanced at his wristwatch. “I got class in like…thirty minutes. I also can’t stay out too late. I mean, I don’t have a curfew or anything, but if I don’t sneak out after my roommate is in bed, then he’ll get worried and start trying to call me to make sure I’m okay. He doesn’t know I’m a super hero and so uh…it would be really difficult for me to explain why I am out so late. That is if some of our missions happen as late as that last one…man…I was so tired that day. I barely made it through lecture. I didn’t want to drink an energy drink. I have enough of that already. I think if I drank one I’d start to see noises or something!”

I forgot better shit than u ever thought up. (Luthor)

Luthor bided his time while Hotline and The Ghost Rider nitpicked the finer points of Arthurian parallels.

Frankly, he thought that was all awfully quaint.

He personally would have employed a more grandiose allegory, at least for marketing purposes. Mount Olympus, perhaps. But no matter.

Ah, someone was waving at him. "Silver Bullet."

(At some point, he had better get someone from Coors on the phone to preempt any infringement claims.)

He took a moment to congratulate himself for instructing Dubbilex to encourage the idea to contact Silver Bullet in the telepathic woman's subconscious. Much more cost effective than trying to put a pin in a superspeedster.

And then he nodded to the exuberantly-argent young fellow.

HotCider said:

Once he got Luthor’s attention, he stood up with his hands slapping down on the tabletop in his excitement.

“Let me first start off by saying just…WOW! A Justice League, WHAT!? We’re a Justice League? For real? And Lex Luthor is running the show. Oh man! Oh man-oh man-oh man! This is just…this is blowing my mind right now!”

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Ah, and people thought millennials were all jaded cynics. He smiled, inclined his head in an appreciative fashion, there was something to said for the power of the geek vote. "Blown minds are just one of the many services proudly provided by LexCorp."

HotCider said:

Calming down his fan boy enthusiasm for a moment, Hiro’s brows rose in concern over his silver facemask. “But oh yeah, um…how long is this meeting going to be?”

He glanced at his wristwatch. “I got class in like…thirty minutes. I also can’t stay out too late. I mean, I don’t have a curfew or anything, but if I don’t sneak out after my roommate is in bed, then he’ll get worried and start trying to call me to make sure I’m okay. He doesn’t know I’m a super hero and so uh…it would be really difficult for me to explain why I am out so late. That is if some of our missions happen as late as that last one…man…I was so tired that day. I barely made it through lecture. I didn’t want to drink an energy drink. I have enough of that already. I think if I drank one I’d start to see noises or something!”

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Dr. Roquette stepped forward, narrowing her bespectacled eyes. "Synaesthesia is a specialty of mine, please see me if you start experiencing any such side effects from ingesting particular substances."

Lex chuckled at Serling's remark. "Especially since I'm now the majority shareholder in Max Rager. There could be synergy there from a corporate spokespersonship standpoint."

Then he changed gears, gesturing reassuringly. "This meeting can be as long or as short as you collectively need it to be. I seek only to set alight a spark under you, it's up to all of you what you choose to do with the flame. Think of me as a somewhat silent partner in all of this. I'll provide the staffing and the funds, to a point-- paying for collateral damage could put a dent even in my bottom line, so no more dropping Rocks of Gibraltar on major metropolitan shipping hubs. And to the extent I am available, I will do my best to troubleshoot for you as I might for my best international clients. My only caveat is that my company benefits from a modicum of visibility via press, social networking, the occasional Reality TV-style 'confessional'; good PR is better than currency to me, particularly since I've personally disavowed Citizens United and the funds of those irritating SuperPACs."

"In the short term, I encourage you to appoint a leader-- personally, I would nominate Aquaman as your chairman, he cuts such a dashing figure --to discuss a means of contacting each other in the event of a League-level emergency, and to forge personal bonds that will stand the test of the battlefield."

He mused. "As for your 'secret identity' problem, well, my interactions with heroes in their civilian guises have been somewhat limited, but I imagine a good cover story is essential to compartmentalization. Perhaps you could claim that you have an internship at some iconoclastic start-up that keeps unconventional hours, explaining your comings and goings even at oh-dark-thirty. I can't imagine that making up for a few missed classes would be difficult for someone of your... unique time-management advantages."

Put your name on the line, along with place and time. (Hotline)


The world rippled under 15-year-old Ruby Reed, and she flinched, and clenched her teeth, and hung on tight.

A rooftop loomed below, and she leaned for it, lean, leeeeean...

...she landed with a thump, rolling off of her flimsy, threadbare means of transportation and clinging to the solid rooftop for a moment, grateful to be alive.

"Holy fuck," she mumbled from under her hood, which had blown back from her head in flight but had fallen back over her face when she'd slumped onto the roof.

"What was that?" a voice issued from the marsupial pocket of the grey hooded sweatshirt she was wearing. "Are you all right?"

Ruby took a breath, reached into that pocket and pulled out The H-Dial, chucking back her hood.

"I'm all right, Tex, I'm okay, promise, sorry about my language," she reassured him. "Your patriotic old flying carpet got me halfway across Colorado and all the way across Kansas. Just... barely."

"Good. I'm sorry I couldn't provide something with seatbelts or lower mileage on such short notice. Do you still have sight of the objective?"

Ruby was a brave enough soul, and she only had to wait a few more seconds for her knees to stop trembling.

Then she stood, straightened her baggy hoodie, and hurried to the edge of the roof.

There they were. One of Thunderbolt's hovercraft had parked in a vacant lot surrounded by high fences, and its pilot had emerged-- clad in a Thunderbolt uniform-- to greet a mysterious figure robed in green.

"Yeah, Tex, I got 'em. I'm gonna hang up now in case I need to Dial in a hurry. Thanks for, uh, Coordinating. Give Sooz my best."

"Good luck, Ruby."

And CLICK! Tex Thompson, Hero Hotline's mysterious Coordinator, was gone.

Leaving Ruby to listen in, flat on her tummy on the roof and straining to hear.

"As your master requested," the fellow in the Neo-Nazi esque Thunderbolt uniform intoned, pulling a vial of purple fluid out of his pocket, presenting it to the figure in the green uniform. "A genetic sample from the dullard bruiser Mammoth. Hiring him to attack S.T.A.R.Labs in Denver was just window-dressing."

"Excellent," the figure in the green hooded robe hissed. "The Master extends his regards for Mr. Thunder. The payment will be deposited in the agreed accounts in but a moment."

"Mr. Thunder will, I'm sure, return that respect in kind," the Thunderbolt agent nodded, and then cued up the turbines of his hovercraft, preparing to head out again. "But out of professional curiosity-- what would you want with the DNA of such a mindless monstrosity?"

The engines were configured for almost-silent flight, but at this distance the rising whine was able to blot out their voices-- Ruby had been barely able to hear them as it was. If she could just get a good view of their faces, she could lip-read, that was better than nothing.

She leaned over the edge of the rooftop, straining, squinting--

--slipped a bit, reflexively snapped "FUCK!"--

--as The H-Dial slipped out of her grip and bounced clatteringly through the metal grating of a fire escape towards the alley below.

Fortunately, a gold-and-red streak zipped out of nowhere, caught The Dial before it hit the ground (probably it would have been fine, but still), and then whooshed up the wall to carry it back up to Ruby.

She knew who it was even before the streak blurred to a stop: ten-year-old Wally West, Kid Flash.

He grinned at her. "Hey, Ruby! I haven't seen you since that weird crap with Agamemno--"

Ruby waved at him to shut up, her eyes wide, but it was too late, she'd already given the game away with her own clumsiness.

Between the various shouts and clangs, both the green-robed guy and the Thunderbolt agent were glaring at them.

The hooded mystery man rounded on the Thunderbolt agent. "You imbecile! You led heroes right to us! If my Master's long game is exposed--!"

The Thunderbolt scowled. "Children. Pests. But don't get your robes in a bunch. Mr. Thunder took the liberty of putting some local muscle on retainer in case of such... interruptions. They should be sufficient to cover our respective escapes."

Grabbing a radio from his pocket, he pressed the transmit button and roared: "GET THEM!"

And then in a crackle and a flash of light and a billow of glittery smoke, they were joined in the vacant lot by five menacing figures:

Abra Kadbra, whose futuristic technomagic had provided that dramatic entrance.

Captain Cold and his partner-in-crime, Heatwave, armed with their respective cryonic and thermic energy weapons.

Mr. Element, wielding a raygun of his own that could transmute physical substances into any element on the periodic table.

...and Captain Boomerang, equipped with his trademark array of trick boomerangs.

"Well, shit," Wally opined, green eyes wide.

"Language," Ruby wisecracked ironically, grimly snatching her Dial out of Wally's hand and Dialing, well, in a hurry.

4. 3. 7. 6.

H-E-R-O.

SssshhCLICK!

Tomorrow's gonna come too soon. (Hotline) (with apologies to Doyle and Hannah)

Hypertime stretched out before Ruby like a vista.

And then snapped back like a rubber band.

Lightning crackled in her skin as she changed...

...and then... didn't... stop?

She was male again this time. In a skintight uniform adorned with glowing nodules, a battery pack on her back with an aerial extending high over one shoulder... electricity dancing from his gloved fingertips.

"I am... The CONDUCTOR!"

He had an Australian accent, still, perhaps interestingly.

His eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the five Rogues in the lot below already breaking formation to come and attack them, and then his eyes narrowed. "Right, then."

The Conductor glanced at Kid Flash, still hesitating beside him, still wondering what strangeness Ruby Reed had conjured this time, and scanned him with a gaze. "I recognize your icon."

And slapped a palm onto Wally's chest.

Electricity sizzled, the taste of ozone filled the air, Wally flinched as "Ow hey that stings!" and golden lighting coursed out of Kid Flash and into The Conductor.

The Rogues had only made it a few steps running across the vacant lot, and Kadabra had only levitated a few feet off the ground... but then they seemed to sloooooowww...

...time stopped.

"What did you just do?" Wally demanded, one hand in his ginger hair as he staggered a bit.

"The extradimensional energy field you call The Speed Force vibrates down into this dimensional plane in a form resembling electricity. I have momentarily harnessed it to accelerate our perceptions and thought processes that we might strategize. Such a maneuver does eclipse my natural electromagnetokinetic abilities, but they will return when this effect fades."

The Conductor straightened, and stepped out to the edge of the roof.

"Data, data, data. I can't make bricks without clay."

He pointed at each Rogue in turn. "Cryokinesis, pyrokinesis, transmutation, all derived from rayguns, point-click interface. 64th-Century adaptive micro-opto-electronics combined with phase shifting, simulating gaudy displays of stage magic, exceptionally versatile, problematic. But the weak link is there--" he pointed at Captain Boomerang "--he is skilled with his arsenal of hand-flung projectiles but his psychological profile makes him unreliable and he possesses insufficient physical capability to stand against us."

"I don't see how picking off Boomerang gets us any kind of advantage against the rest of these feebs," Wally protested.

"You see," The Conductor held up an instructive finger, "but you do not observe. The distinction is clear."

Wally narrowed his green eyes severely. "You are not my favorite Hero that I've ever seen Ruby Dial, holmes. In fact, you're a little trying."

Tracing lines in the air from Captain Boomerang to just above the respective heads of Cold, Kadabra, and Element, The Conductor squinted, continuing as though Wally had never complained. "Things must be done decently, and in order: when the time dilation fades, immediately circle around behind 'Captain' Harkness at Mach 7.013 and divest him of his weapons, hurling them at angles encompassing this arc. The individual effects of the 'trick' boomerangs are... academic... as we cannot defeat them in this way, I have already extrapolated numerous scenarios where you attack them directly with the boomerangs and they all end in Kadabra turning them into doves or some such trifle. We must merely put these four on their proverbial back foot for a protracted instant. Heatwave will retaliate, firing at me at a 77.3-degree angle when he realizes that I am airborne. While this happens and before his compatriots recover, you must then circle around again at 1123.63 miles per hour and in turn deprive Mr. Element of his weapon, using it to transmute the radius of dirt beneath the non-airborne Rogues into a seven-percent-solution of saline approximately 4.241891 inches in depth."

Wally hesitated. "Yo, Conductoid, I'm in elementary school. I don't know how to use Element's gun to even make simple elements, let alone compounds and solutions of compounds--"

The Conductor whirled to face him, grimacing. "I exist in this state of temporal grace only momentarily, but you have the blessed gift of being a perpetual motion engine, forever capable of darting between nanoseconds and watching the world fall still like aspic. You are by very nature a quick study, Wallace, and now you know my methods. Apply them."

Wally took a step back, startled by the ferocity The Conductor's eyes, the ruthlessness-- like a mastermind-- like a high-functioning sociopath. "Uh. Yessir."

Time began to wind and whine back up again, and The Conductor pushed off of the rooftop with a puff of force as the Speed Force lightning burned out of him and baseline electromagnetism once more crackled around him. "Do your part. I shall do the rest."

"Let's go." Kid Flash flashed forward.

He raced down the side of the building, vibrated through the fence circling the lot, and was behind Captain Boomerang before a hummingbird could have flapped its wings once. Arms blurring like buzzsaws, he snatched the boomerangs off of "Digger" Harkness' blue uniform and immediately flung them in the arc The Conductor had prescribed.

Roaring with dismay and fury and surprise, Element, Cold, and Kadabra found the air above them and around themselves beset with flash-bangs, taser-shocks, fire and ice and glue--

--but Heatwave, Mick Rory, he saw a clear shot almost directly above him at the electrically-humming stranger, and he took it, blasting superheated plasma--

"I may not be the brains of this outfit," he growled, "but I know a magnet loses its pull when it loses its cool!"

The Conductor simply held out his palm and the blast dispersed in the air just before the skin of his glove, shimmering out of existence, and his eyes almost... twinkled... with something resembling amusement. "Elementary. Less well-known is the concept of the thermocouple, by which excess heat may be converted... into electricity."

Heatwave's brow furrowed in puzzlement, but then widened again as realization struck-- and as The Conductor began to resonate-- rattle and hum --with a supercharged electromagnetic field...

...in that instant, Wally darted across the lot like a neural impulse jumping synapses, grabbing the gun out of Mr. Element's grip...

...time slowed to a crawl again for him as he desperately examined the weapon, fighting his youthfully-exuberant brain to remember the scant scraps of scientific knowledge, "Flash Facts," that he'd managed to absorb from his mentor Barry Allen...

...and when everything sprang back into motion again, Kid Flash pointed Mr. Element's gun at the ground, pulled the trigger.

The very earth that four Rogues stood upon crackled and sizzled and shifted, becoming salt-water.

"I never can resist a touch of the dramatic," The Conductor mused.

And a thunderbolt the girth of a sequoia flared and stabbed downward from The Conductor into the pool of water that Wally had so graciously provided--

--Wally himself had seldom moved faster, watching that lightning bolt descend, and with all due haste he stampeded out of the watery pool to perch atop the fence at the perimeter of the lot.

Electricity frazzled every nerve in those Rogues' central nervous systems-- despite their uniforms' insulation --and their weapons were instantly rendered useless by the EMP.

They crumpled, shuddering, twitching, groaning.

All but for Abra Kadabra, who, shaken, singed, damaged, long black coat smouldering, nevertheless escaped the worst of the damage and brandished his magic wand at The Conductor.

"In my future, fools, a mere electromagnetic pulse is what we call a parlor trick."

And a green bolt of energy stabbed from the tip of the wand, leaping in an arc to the tip of The Conductor's shoulder-mounted aerial, coursing into him, blasting him back--

"AHHHHHHHH!" The Conductor roared, tumbling from the air and landing in the dirt in a heap.

Coat billowing around him, Kadabra swooped low over the fallen Conductor, sneering. "'A touch of the dramatic.' Feh! You know nothing of showmanship."

The Conductor coughed, and grinned up at Kadabra. "I know that the first rule of magic... is misdirection."

And with a wave of his hand, The Conductor projected a ramp sculpted from electromagnetic force...

...which Wally sprinted up faster than the blink of the fastest eye, up to where Kadabra levitated, kicking the wand out of Abra's hand in the same instant that his fist bisected Kadabra's jaw.

Kadabra corkscrewed insensate in the air for a moment before splashing into the puddle with the rest of the cronies.

Wally stood over the fallen Kadabra for a moment, tutting. "Man, everyone's wearing these long black coats, now. The Matrix has got a lot to answer for."

Then he zipped over to The Conductor, offering him a hand up. "You okay there, brainstorm?"

The Conductor smiled at him shakily, accepting the hand and rising. "It makes a considerable difference to me, having someone with me on whom I can thoroughly rely. Thank you, Wallace."

Captain Boomerang stirred woozily nearby, and The Conductor stepped over to him and knocked him back unconscious with a single grim punch. "Ned Kelly would be ashamed of you."

Kid Flash glanced around, and frowned. "Looks like those two guys who signaled these Rogues are long gone."

"I am not particularly surprised," The Conductor mused. "No doubt Thunderbolt hovercrafts are hardened against EMPs, and equipped with some manner of chameleon circuit. I only regret that I can perceive no clue as to the identity of the robed figure with whom he met. I can only trust that they will surface in time for us to best them-- to paraphrase the proverb: Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another."

"Uh, yeah," Wally chuckled. "If you say so."

At this moment, air rushed beside them and the ground quivered under thundershock footfalls-- The Flash himself, Bartholomew "Barry" Henry Allen blurred to a stop beside Kid Flash.

The Conductor briefly considered that the power he had converted from Heatwave's attack was a mere erg compared to the way that Kid Flash lit up upon seeing his mentor.

"I'm sorry I got held up," The Flash apologized. "Grodd was--"

He hesitated, glanced around. "But I see you've managed to keep busy while you waited. Did you defeat five Rogues?"

"Not alone," Wally admitted, though he was absolutely glowing under The Flash's praise, even brighter than before. "This is The Conductor, Ruby Dialed him."

The Flash nodded gratefully to The Conductor, and shook his hand. "Thank you, ah, Conductor. And thank you... Ruby... pretty sure you're in there somewhere. Thanks again for your help with Agamemno and The Secret Society."

"I am glad," The Conductor nodded back simply, his glove in The Flash's, "to represent justice so far as my feeble powers go."

He paused, then. "But I must warn you, Flash, Kid Flash. My electromagnetic senses detect something curious-- it is almost as though, for the instant when my electromagnetic pulse lit up the nearby spectrum moments ago-- I saw a second power grid layered upon that of Keystone City and her twin sister Central, as though there were twice as much power being generated in these cities as the output would suggest--"

SssshhCLICK!

And with a burst of hypertemporal flux, The Conductor was gone, leaving behind slight, awkward, decidedly tomboyish Ruby Reed. "--um. Sorry."

"Whatever the rest of his sentence was going to be, it's gone with him."

"It's all right," The Flash clapped Ruby reassuringly on the shoulder. "You guys stopped five Rogues today, that's a victory no matter how you shake it out. You guys did brilliant work today, all that's left is the clean-up."

He grinned at Wally in particular. "You. Are going to make an amazing full-fledged Flash someday, I'm more sure of it than ever."

Kid Flash grinned sheepishly, taken aback by the scope of that compliment. "Uh, thank you, Unc-- Flash. But no rush on that, okay? You're gonna be around a good long while yet."

Damian or rather Nightwing didn't say anything. Nor did he take a seat when he had entered the room. He stood in a corner, in the few shadows that were in the room. The shadows were familiar to him, plus they as well as the fact that he was wearing his mask, a few prostetics to alter the shape of his chin and nose (disguise was a skill passed down to him by his father) the grey hoodie covering his hair, and the blue jeans he was wearing to complete his appearance.

What Luthor was stating was right, the world needed a Justice League now more than ever. But Luthor rarely did anything where it didn't help him in some way. Was this just a ploy to enhance his chances of winning the Presidency? Was it a tactic to gain meta humans under his control? Or did he have something else up his sleeve. Knowing Luthor's history it was more than likely all of the above.

The Riders of the Storm

Standing up the Rider looked at the Room. “Moderatus was a traitor and a Murderer. Morgana was a witch, a shapeshifter, and conniving villainous bitch. Whatever legend myth, fantasy, or fairy tale you desire to believe.. trust this. I was there.”

Moving towards the doorway it looked at Luther and the leather clad red head leaning against the wall. “I don’t trust either of you. And one of these days you will receive your Penances’. And I’ll be there to deliver. For now, I’ll trust the Merlaine.” And leaning down it whispered something in the ear of the Martian Manhuntress.

As the Rider turned it’s biker gear melted and reformed, chainlinks oozing from dripping leather. But the color didn’t change. Adorned once more in archaic armour of old, dented and dinged, scarred and battered.

And black as the souls of Hell.

Facing the room, embers burning from behind that soulless helm it repeated. “I was there.” And it vanished into the burning wall behind it as the sprinkler system engaged, dousing the room with frigid water spray.

Jerking, with the cold, Wonder Girl was forced to stop glaring at the rider. The cold sent a chill ripping down her spine, and she jerked away from it, arching her back and incidentally thrusting her chest forwards. Stifling, barely, the squeal of startlement that threatened to rip from her throat.

Leaning against the wall, Renegade listened to the Rider. She’d been there as well, or rather he had been. Not one of the major players, but she’d been there. Had an interesting dance of words with the rider then as well. Was it still the same poor soul, or did The Rider have a new face under that helmet? She’d been cute, and.. do able.. as the modern vernacular said.

And when the Rider played it’s parlor trick with armour and flame, and sent the sprinkler into overload.. well it was on par with when that thing was pissed. Which brought up a rather interesting question.. why hadn’t it just Penanced Luther? Why had it let him of all people walk free. Granted he’d never pulled the trigger himself.. but that wasn’t the way she Understood the Rider to work. In for a penny in for a pound. Negotiating a death was the same as committing the Murder.

Unless things had changed.

Had the rules been changed?

At least Renegade had her own question solved. The coin still worked.. at least against The Rider.

For what seemed like the entirety of the conference, Kaldur'ahm had kept tight-lipped, not offering much in the way of counsel or personal emoting. It was Luthor's job to put on his best salesman's pitch, and that he did. Even threw on a nice Armani for the occasion. The addition PR stuff didn't surprise him, it was Luthor after all, and it was but a small price to pay for the benefactor's "generosity". It wasn't the devil in the details as far as he knew. What surprised him the most was learning the extent of his co-opting of the law enforcement system...well it hadn't occurred to him until he could see the fruits of Luthor's investments, this ensured that Luthor would have a special standing with the law no matter what. It didn't need to be said for him understand that Luthor was above the law in this arrangement. The only impediment in his absolute path was the super-powered variable, and this too was subject to changed.

He knew the implications, but this was going to happen whether they were on-board or not.

Kaldur cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly through this rationalization, and it looked like he was about to break character, but the dramatic encounter with the Rider provided him an opportunity to reorient himself. When the sprinklers came alive, so did he break from his thought-plain and he did what came intuitively. The Atlantean extracted the very water from the atmosphere in the minutest of detail. What was wet only moments ago, became dry in seconds and the remaining water filled constructs and the empty glasses assembled at the table.

"Care for a drink...?" Kaldur edging a recently filled glass in Luthor's vicinity.

After awhile the sprinkler's died down altogether.

"Who Wants to Live Forever?" (covered by Lindsey Stirling & The Tenors)

(Rose/M'gann/Hotline/Luthor)

The Ghost Rider stated her case, such as it was.

And left in a style that perhaps the late George Reeves would find impressive.

The water poured forth from concealed nozzles.

Serling Roquette shrieked in surprise and tried unsuccessfully to umbrella herself with her clipboard.

Natasha Irons groaned incredulously, instantly dreading the work that she and the multidroids would have to do rewiring this room once the humidity had settled-- not to mention the frizzy mess her hair would become.

Cameron Chase let the spray fall down around her and eyed the hole in the wall that Ghost Rider had left on her way out. How tenable was the formation of this team if one of their arguably more powerful members was going to act with that degree of thoughtlessness?

Hope and Mercy attempted to shield Luthor from the destruction and the spray, in case this had been some orchestrated attempt to douse Luthor with acid as Boss Maroni had once done to Harvey Dent. But Luthor waved them away, grimacing up at the downpour with a stoic but displeased expression.

Ruby Reed ignored the water itself, she didn't much care that the water was cold and stale from sitting in the tanks, but she'd never been opposed to a random drenching. Her H-Dial was basically indestructible so far as she could tell, but if this was the sort of prima donna theatrics that Aquaman was going to have to put up with at all of these meetings, then she was glad she was getting his back. "All I did was ask her to bluddy clarify her imagery, not blow holes in our ship."

Rose sat there as the spray gushed down over them from the palatial ceiling above, barely feeling the cold and the wet and yet still shivering from the proximity of Ghost Rider as she had whispered in Rose's ear. That bizarre anti-fire... it still turned her stomach, made her skin prickle... unspeakable primordial dread subverted by some sorcerous alchemy.

And yet that wasn't what had shell-shocked her.

"'Tell her?'" she repeated, the two-word phrase that Ghost Rider had whispered to her, and shot Karan a bewildered, helpless, wide-red-eyed expression. "'Tell her' what? ...tell who what?"

Then, Aquaman exerted his inimitable control over water to save Nat Irons hours of work, not to mention everyone else's discomfort.

Nubian_Legend said:

The Atlantean extracted the very water from the atmosphere in the minutest of detail. What was wet only moments ago, became dry in seconds and the remaining water filled constructs and the empty glasses assembled at the table.

"Care for a drink...?" Kaldur edging a recently filled glass in Luthor's vicinity.

Click to expand...

Luthor's eyebrow twitched. "Thank you, Aquaman, for the hydrokinetic legerdemain. But no thank you on the drink. I prefer my Scotch neat when I imbibe it."

Now that she wasn't beset by spray anymore, Nat Irons grabbed a scrunchie out of her jeans pocket, hauled her super-frizzed hair back out of her face, and tied it back. Then she tugged a tablet out of the pocket of her lab coat and danced her fingers over its surface, overriding the sprinklers and irising the valves shut.

Nubian_Legend said:

After awhile the sprinkler's died down altogether.

Click to expand...

"Well," Luthor harrumphed, tugging at his sleeve disdainfully, and glancing at the colorful Neil Richards silk tie he had painstakingly paired with his suit. "My first order of business is to investigate why the irrigation-based backup fire suppression system triggered first and not the primary targeted-forcefield array meant to preserve this facility's bleeding-edge circuitry. My second order of business is to take this wool Armani out of the aforediscussed 'collateral damage' budget."

He straightened his head and examined those still at the table and around it.

"Your first order of business," he encouraged, "as I am quite certain you still have a quorum, is to elect a leader. Your second order of business, if I may be so bold, is to determine whether you wish to... retain the roster I assembled here. One could hardly blame you if you were to decide that random property destruction and physical safety risk were non-starters in an organization meant to protect lives and infrastructure."

"I asked you here to be part of this because I believed there was a synergy in what you did together in this city a week ago. But if discord outweighs synergy... you may accomplish nothing, or worse than nothing: compound the very problems you seek to address and redress. Think on that."

"For any that want one, my people will make available to you next-generation LexIcon smartwearables that you can use to reach me or each other at any time. Thank you all in advance for your service. If there is nothing further you require of me, I shall leave you to it."

ChasNicollette said:

He straightened his head and examined those still at the table and around it.

"Your first order of business," he encouraged, "as I am quite certain you still have a quorum, is to elect a leader. Your second order of business, if I may be so bold, is to determine whether you wish to... retain the roster I assembled here. One could hardly blame you if you were to decide that random property destruction and physical safety risk were non-starters in an organization meant to protect lives and infrastructure."

"I asked you here to be part of this because I believed there was a synergy in what you did together in this city a week ago. But if discord outweighs synergy... you may accomplish nothing, or worse than nothing: compound the very problems you seek to address and redress. Think on that."

"For any that want one, my people will make available to you next-generation LexIcon smartwearables that you can use to reach me or each other at any time. Thank you all in advance for your service. If there is nothing further you require of me, I shall leave you to it."

Click to expand...

*****

Watching as Lex Luthor left the room, Renegade stepped away from the wall and took a seat at the table. 'Purposely?' taking The Riders seat, or was it just happenstance?

"I vote for blondie." The Red haired and black leather wearing female said, gesturing at Wondergirl.

"What? Me? Oh No. No. No. Why not you? Yes. I vote her as leader. Or the um.. mean one. The Rider? Is that what her name is? The Rider?"

"Why can't she be the leader? She certainly takes charge. And makes things happen."

"I'm not the leader type. What about him?" Renegade replied gesturing at the boy (Nightwing) in the background.

Nightwing had been just standing there with his arms crossed as he listened to what Luthor was telling them all. So much so that he really wasn't paying much attention to the other voices.

So it took him a bit to react when it had been suggested that he become leader to this new team. In truth the suggestion intrigued him. He had been trained to lead since he was a child. He was supposed to be the leader of a very different League. However such a position here would prove distracting enough that he would have difficulty figuring out what Luthor's real purpose was behind this endeavour.

"No." was his simple answer. It was a far cry from the types of answers he used to give as a child. Also he was able to do it without insulting anyone.

All Along the Watchtower. (Rose/M'gann/Hotline)

Varshanka said:

Watching as Lex Luthor left the room, Renegade stepped away from the wall and took a seat at the table. 'Purposely?' taking The Riders seat, or was it just happenstance?

Click to expand...

Lex and his support team left, with the exception of Natasha Irons, who, armed with a tablet and a handful of multidroids, proceeded to dutifully supervise the repair of the gaping exit wound in the wall.

Varshanka said:

"I vote for blondie." The Red haired and black leather wearing female said, gesturing at Wondergirl.

Click to expand...

Rose kind of grinned at that. She didn't know how La Femme Nikita here knew Karan, but out of everyone here, Karan had actually spoken more than five sentences to Rose... and while she'd made mistakes, they never would have stopped that guy in Metropolis without her.

"Yeah," she nodded, absentmindedly tugging one pale, pointed ear. "I second that emotion."

Varshanka said:

"What? Me? Oh No. No. No. Why not you? Yes. I vote her as leader. Or the um.. mean one. The Rider? Is that what her name is? The Rider?"

Click to expand...

"We, uh," Rose hesitated, "kind of skipped the formal introductions. Probably an oversight in retrospect."

Varshanka said:

"Why can't she be the leader? She certainly takes charge. And makes things happen."

Click to expand...

"Makes what things happen, exactly?" Hotline wondered, hunching forward in her seat and squinting hard. "Sphinx-like riddles and fire drills? Color me first impression unimpressed."

Varshanka said:

"I'm not the leader type. What about him?" Renegade replied gesturing at the boy (Nightwing) in the background.

Click to expand...

Still standing where he'd exulted like a fanboy, Hiro couldn't help but find himself disappointed that no-one-- nobody! not a single person here!-- seemed to share in his effusive enthusiasm. This was The Justice League! Why was everyone so grim and lone wolf? Why wasn't anyone punching the sky?

"...are we just nominating random people in the room, now? Who is that guy?" a burst of blurring speed, and he was standing behind and beside Rose's chair-- "Do you know who he is?"

Wincing, Rose shrugged her powerful shoulders under her blue cape. "I don't know. Maybe we should go around the table and call out our codenames?" She turned her red red gaze to the guy in the scruffy civilian attire. "...I guess you've been nominated, though. It's been awhile since I've read Robert's Rules of Order--"

LuckyVic said:

"No." was his simple answer. It was a far cry from the types of answers he used to give as a child. Also he was able to do it without insulting anyone.

Click to expand...

"--oh," Rose blinked. "'Kay."

Hotline snorted, grinned. "I think Scrooge McDuck would call that 'a snappy "no-sale."'"

"Mr. Luthor suggested," Hiro reminded everyone, "that we nominate Aquaman to be our leader, and I for one think I agree with him! If that guy in that flying scary black ship thing hadn't told me to go find Aquaman-- and if that smelly hobo guy hadn't helped me wake Aquaman up-- I don't think we would have come together as a team that night. He is cool, bad-ass, and professional, and he looks seriously awesome when he points that trident at people!"

Hotline smirked softly. "Much as I hate agreeing with a single syllable that comes out of Lex Luthor's mouth, Silverstreak's got a point. And no, I'm not just saying that because Aquaman's invite got me in the door."

Connor was once again stalking the streets and rooftops of San Francisco. He had snuck out of the temple where he had been raised for the last 5 years and donned a costume he had hand made to resemble his fathers and was fighting crime just like he did.

He smiled at the thought as he leaped the gaps between rooftops with ease and kept one ear out for anything happening in the streets below, and one ear listening to the small transceiver he had in it that was attuned to the police band.

He had only been doing this for the past several weeks and the thrill had still not worn off. As he continued his patrol he recalled what had led him to this point.

He had been a horror as a kid. His mother had raised him as best she could telling him about his father Oliver Queen AKA The Green Arrow. She said that she had loved him but had not been able to stay with him.

He had read everything he could about him and about his adventures but he had still got into trouble at school while his Mother had to work hard just to support them. Eventually at the age of thirteen she had signed the papers allowing him to attend the same monastery his father had.

Here he obtained the discipline and order he needed under Master Jensen, the same person who had taught his father. He learned Zen Buddhist Philosophy, Aikido and Kyudo archery the same as his father. However he was not able to put aside all outside distractions and still had dreams of becoming just like his father one day.

At the age of 18 he secretly created a uniform just like his fathers and made some trick arrows. However he did not approve of the flashier ones of his fathers but could still see the potential of some of them.

He created stun ones by attaching rounded heads, trip wires by stringing together two arrows with thin strong cord, a strong netting arrow by doing the same but with a net, and a small explosive arrow and smoke bomb, by attaching vials of the appropriate powders to the arrows.

He also attached two fighting sticks to his legs for close quarters combat then once he was ready he jumped the walls of the monastery and made his way to San Francisco.

That first night he had stopped two muggings, a robbery and a rape. He had also gained a motorcycle. Well the robber no longer needed it as he was going to need it as he was going to jail, so he had taken it and made his way back home and silently hidden his things ready for another day.

Since then he had been sneaking out most nights to hone his skills and help people. He was getting better too and even the police had taken note of his presence. Smiling he was shaken out of his memories as he heard a scream for help echoing off the walls of the alleyways. Pinpointing the direction he set off. It wasn't far away and if he was in luck he should make it in time to stop another woman from falling victim to a senseless crime this night.

ChasNicollette said:

Hotline smirked softly. "Much as I hate agreeing with a single syllable that comes out of Lex Luthor's mouth, Silverstreak's got a point. And no, I'm not just saying that because Aquaman's invite got me in the door."

Click to expand...

"I agree. Aquaman would be acceptable." Nightwing stated. Though the urge to add... for now, was proving to be great. He hated to admit that Kaldur'ahm had the skills and experience to do the job.

Looking around the table Wondergirl sighed. “Wow, did they argue this much at the original round table? Seems like so much.. distrust and angst here.” She whispered to the red haired alabaster goddess/daughter of Aphrodite.

“Will we chose a new King Arthur? A new leader?” She asked the room softly. “Is Aquaman worthy of being our leader? Are we worthy of being his Knights and Ladies?”

Haters couldn’t get to where I am with a full tank of petrol. (Rose/M'gann/Hotline)

Varshanka said:

Looking around the table Wondergirl sighed. “Wow, did they argue this much at the original round table? Seems like so much.. distrust and angst here.” She whispered to the red haired alabaster goddess/daughter of Aphrodite.

Click to expand...

"We don't need to whisper," Rose promised Karan.

She held up the pale fingers of one hand. "You're right, though. I'm not-- I'm still learning the psychic stuff. But I can feel the irritation in the air like pea-soup fog. All I ever saw of The Justice League was them on TV looking like paragons of virtue. But I guess everyone has off-days."

Varshanka said:

“Will we chose a new King Arthur? A new leader?” She asked the room softly. “Is Aquaman worthy of being our leader? Are we worthy of being his Knights and Ladies?”

Click to expand...

"Aquaman is absolutely worthy," Ruby cracked, pointing a finger down hard into the tabletop. "That fuck-off fork you've seen him carry is The Champion's Trident, and you've gotta be worthy to use that thing, they don't hand them out in boxes of Booster Golden Crisp. As to being 'worthy' of being 'Knights' and 'Ladies,' well, I'm no lady-- but every knight was a squire sometime. We can prove we're worthy as we go; it's something you earn."

She grunted. "I'm not sure that fiery leatherbeater that open-sesamed our wall and got us a quick hose-down is gonna earn it anytime soon--"

Hiro stood up a little straighter. "Hey, I don't know what high horse you rode in on-- and I don't know much about that Ghost Rider person-- but after I rocked that Kryptonian with a Supersonic Punch and these ladies--" he indicated Martian Manhuntress and Wonder Girl "--zapped him with their eyebeams, it was The Rider that put him on his knees with that scary hypnosis thing she did. Attitude problems can totally be a problem, but she was there when we needed her and she earned her stripes big-time."

This gave Hotline pause. "She beat a Kryptonian by staring hard? ...huh." She arched an eyebrow, and wondered if she should revise her first impression.

"I'm not saying we don't have to learn to work as a team," Rose agreed, "if we're going to make a difference out there. But as membership goes, weird creepy fire hair and awkward interpersonal skills aren't dealbreakers. Saving lives and stopping bad guys are."

Then Rose glanced at Aquaman. "What do you think, uh, sir? Do you accept the nomination?"

Kaldur kept his usual expressionless timbre listening to the passionate round table discussion, while his eyes were closed, his mind was open reflecting on every statement uttered in the room. "Thank you Ruby for reasoning on my behalf. I understand how important this is to all of you and choosing a leader is an important undertaking , that said a leader makes a case for their candidateship through their history of actions and I don't believe I need anyone to do that for me. I accept this nomination. " Kaldur nodding to the patchwork of characters assembled within the room.

...That said I believe the New league could use a Vice-leader to assume command in the event I'm unable to fulfill my duties as leader. Our lifestyles are notoriously uncertain afterall." Taking a deep breath, he furthered on.

"Some of you I do know and I've worked with in the past... " He panned a glance and an affirming nod to some familiar faces.

"...Others I don't know quite as well, I'd be willing to extend the opportunity to get to know some here better. It's my belief that our association will be fruitful in nature, I understand if some of you have some reservations regarding our direction, but I'd tell you to take a look at the prospects. What matters here is us." And with that Kaldur rose from his seat. "Does anyone here have anything else to add?"

His name will echo on the sea and on the ground. (Hotline/Rose/M'gann)

Nubian_Legend said:

Kaldur kept his usual expressionless timbre listening to the passionate round table discussion, while his eyes were closed, his mind was open reflecting on every statement uttered in the room. "Thank you Ruby for reasoning on my behalf."

Click to expand...

Hotline put her fist in the air, smirking. "Represent!"

Nubian_Legend said:

"I understand how important this is to all of you and choosing a leader is an important undertaking , that said a leader makes a case for their candidateship through their history of actions and I don't believe I need anyone to do that for me. I accept this nomination. " Kaldur nodding to the patchwork of characters assembled within the room.

...That said I believe the New league could use a Vice-leader to assume command in the event I'm unable to fulfill my duties as leader. Our lifestyles are notoriously uncertain afterall."

Click to expand...

Hiro squinted hard. That was an excellent point! What about the guy who'd given them direction from the flying black pod? He had good field tactics! If only he was here!

Ruby paused, a little sobered. Kaldur was a man of great subtlety-- she couldn't help but think his unspoken implication was that-- if The Justice League, the original Justice League, could be felled or absconded... then any of them could be gone at any time. Succession planning was seriously good sense.

Nubian_Legend said:

Taking a deep breath, he furthered on.

"Some of you I do know and I've worked with in the past... " He panned a glance and an affirming nod to some familiar faces.

Click to expand...

Ruby nodded back, pressing her lips together, eyes half-lidded. It's been an honor, she added silently.

Nubian_Legend said:

"...Others I don't know quite as well, I'd be willing to extend the opportunity to get to know some here better."

Click to expand...

Hiro fired off a beaming grin.

Rose sat up a little straighter, nodding gratefully.

Nubian_Legend said:

It's my belief that our association will be a fruitful in nature, I understand if some of you have some reservations regarding our direction, but I'd tell you to take a look at the prospects. What matters here is us." And with that Kaldur rose from his seat. "Does anyone here have anything else to add?"

Click to expand...

"Actually, um," Natasha Irons spoke up from where the last multidroid had just finished patching up the wall, "I'm-- I'm sorry for speaking out of turn. I know I'm not part of the... Superbuddies Club. But I have a logistical concern. This base was original devised as a Police HQ, and while they would have had squad cars for the uniformed officers, the main squad would have had armor with jet boots, they would have been able to reach any place in Metropolis in moments. But um... The Justice League is going to have to get everywhere in America. Everywhere in the world."

She hesitated, hugged her tablet to her stomach, trying not to panic at speaking up to The New Justice League-- she mouthed off to her Uncle John all the time but this was a whole 'nother level.

"I know Mr. Luthor has licensed patents from NASA for the spaceplane Constitution that would have crashed at Metropolis International if Superman hadn't saved it in his debut all those years ago, but reworking those patents into an actual working craft is going to take months even for LuthorCorp's legendary R&D. So if one of you guys has-- I dunno-- some invisible plane or-- super-mobile-- that might be... good?"

Signs of his arrival...Hi Kiz!

New York City, present day, evening

Mary licked her lips, glancing up at the giant red ball on her left. It was as big as she was. On it was the credo that had dominated her life for the past five years. She paused to read the words once more even as nerves ate away at her stomach. She fished around in her purse and popped open the top of her chewable, mint flavored tums. She munched on the chalky tablets three at at time as the words rolled around in her head. "The Bigger. The Better." She sighed. "New York Powerball!" the next line read. She popped three more antacids into her mouth. "Let's play." The last line always got her.

She sucked in another huge breath, walked up the stairs under the green awning, and pushed into the building. Inside, she badged through a door managed by two armored men. They grinned and tucked on the brims of their hats like they were cowboys. One was cute, so she nodded back at him, ignoring the other one who wasn't. Her purse passed through the x-ray machine, and she was down the hallway before the antacid had time to kick in. Her stomach felt like churning battery acid. She gagged but nothing came up. A few people stopped in the hallway to ask after her, but she waved them off.

She pushed through the final door, dropping her purse off and plopping into a chair. Her head swam from side to side. Her eyes wandered over the fake walls of the drawing room. They were two twenty foot slabs of sheet rock painted green. It made it easy for the news crews to add whatever sort of inane overlay they were contractually approved to add. Mary took another breath and leaned back into the seat, feeling the antacid kick in.

"Okay. I can do this." She rubbed at her hair.

"Mar, you don't look so good."

"Huh? Oh what?" She looked around, somehow missing the security officer standing in front of her. Then her eyes snapped into focus on the shiny black shoes and crisp blue pants. Not a security officer but a real police officer with utility belt and gun. She blinked up at the face hovering over her.

"Maybe I should talk to Jerry..." His voice was deep like the ocean but it trailed off uncertain.

"No, no. Not going to let that cow Angelina weasel her way in." Mary took a deep breath and stood. Police officer Bob took a step back to give her some room. "I'll be fine, just nerves."

"Nerves?" Bob's brow furrowed, and his hand trailed to the butt of his gun. "Are you under duress?" His lips compressed into a white line.

"What? Don't be a fucking idiot, no, god sorry Bob. It's just. I dunno, the black fog rolling off the harbor, flooding rain, lunar eclipse..." She trailed off looking at the machine filled with white plastic ping pong balls.

"They said the fog wasn't black."

"What?"
"Yeah, just a trick of the setting sun or something like that...vorumetrical lighting dilato..." His deep voice trailed off again, and he gave a shrug. His eyes had wandered back down to her cleavage, which was something that Mary was used to.

She waved him off and took exaggerated steps towards the ball tumbling device. "Sure whatever." Bob got out of her way but didn't stop looking at her as she walked passed.

The ball tumbling machine was not impressive for something that determined who the next billionaire would be. Just a shiny plastic fishbowl that would be infused with multiple jets of air to creature a pseudo random motion of the balls so that when she pressed the button, one of them would eject into the metal track. That ball should in theory be random enough that no one could have influenced its selection. That was her job. Press a button. Smile. Look pretty into the cameras. Press that god damn button five more times. Then go grab a coffee and a bagel.

A new hair and make-up lady came over. Mary didn't bother to learn their names. It wasn't a high paying job, so it was usually new cosmeticians that just got their license before they could find a real job. "Don't make me look like a god damn cow...Jasmine!" The girl, jasmine according to her name tag, just nodded and finished applying blush and hairspray.

Her manager ran over, and they chit chatted for a little bit. She liked him okay. She passed the final twenty minutes scrolling through news stories about all the strange things going on in New York City the past few days. More weird vandalism, people painting black circles and green trees. People complaining of nightmares and sleeping sickness. And the oddest thing of all. The thing that Mary dreaded. The six numbers.

She dropped her phone back into her pocket. She didn't want to think of the shit storm if those numbers came up. Ask someone to pick a number at random. The past three days, they'd come up with the same sequence. How many fucking stories about people filling out lotto tickets and even the machines themselves spitting out the same sequence. Always the same sequence.

"Here we go! Get ready Mary." Her boss shouted, and the overhead lighting flared. All shadows in the small two walled corner were obliterated. It took a lot of training not to blink and sputter under those flood lights. Several cameras swiveled towards her.

Her producer started a count down on some worn, laminated cards. It went, "3...2...1...BOOM!"

"Welcome folks," Mary said with a huge smile plastered on her face. "Tonight is the 4,677th power ball!" Fake clapping played all around her. Behind the cameras were a few police officers and crew members, but the room was kept to essential personnel only. "Err." She shook her head, "I mean the 988th power ball!" She kept smiling even as vomit tried to work its way up her esophagus. "With over a billion dollars at stake, I'm sure you are all excited to learn what the first number is!"

Mary turned and gestured at the machine. It came to life. Air poured out of the many vents and lifted the balls into the air. They churned around on the currents, slamming into each other and bouncing in every which direction. Mary gulped down a puddle of saliva from her mouth, pushing it down her throat. Her finger reached out, shaking with the effort or the weight of what the first number might be, couldn't be, anything but that.

The first ball shot out through the hole that opened just long enough for it to eject. It couldn't be. She was frantic, clawing at the ball, trying to find a different number there, any number, but of course it was impossible to remove the ball.

The ball had a large "0" painted on the side.

Behind her, she heard her producer swear. Mary licked her lips and said, "The first number is zero!"

Her finger jabbed at the button. It ejected another ball. She couldn't look. She didn't want to look. It was her job to look, so she did. She took her time fixing the ball into place so that its number was centered and in line with the previous number.

"A-and we have a two!" She tried to sound cheerful, really she did, but she felt her sanity slipping. Her eyes flickered behind the cameras. The police officers were eyeing each other. Her producer and boss were huddled, gesturing frantically at the two numbers.

She couldn't help herself. She pressed the button again.

"A...the...ah, it's the number six." Even the false excitement she was so good at injecting into her voice was gone. People were running around behind the cameras. The camera people were looking from her to each other. Even the fake clapping sounds that usually accompanied every announcement was gone.

Like a robot, she pressed the button again. "Nine." Her voice was flat.

Again she pressed the button. She started giggling. "Seven, who'd have fucking, mother fuck."

Her eyes went wide, and she ran over to the powerball machine. It had red balls. "Fine! See if I care. It's an eight!" She announced, laughing the whole time. She paused, "Who wants to bet? Huh? Anyone?" Behind the cameras she could see everyone standing like statues.

She pressed the button, and the red ball shot out of the fish bowl. It rolled down the track and came to a rest at the end of its railing. It was centered and positioned. Mary's legs gave out, and she slumped to the ground. Her head flopped into her hands, resting on her knees. "I can't...I mean...an eight? Really?" Her body shivered. Tears rolled down her legs, dropping into her shoes.

The lights went out. No doubt they'd gone to some recorded message. She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Mary?" She heard other conversations going on near her. The producer and her boss where talking in harsh, hushed tones. "We need to ask you some questions."

She caught pieces of her producer's and manager's conversation. "...blame it...no, no...her...yeah it has to..."

Mary sobbed. They were going to blame the whole thing on her. Her career was over. Who hired the girl that ruined the Powerball Lottery? The girl that broke down on TV. "Get it together," she hissed to herself.

"Mary can you stand up?" It was Bob's voice, deep and soothing. "Mary..."

All of the lights over head popped like balloons. The room was plunged in total darkness. She raised her head, wiping away her hair. It was so dark in here. She felt a coldness creep up her legs. She hurdled up to her feet, leaning into Bob's protective arms.

"Do you see that?" Bob said.

"It's...it's darker over there."

"Is that possible?"

"Oh god, is something moving?"

Bob's hand slapped around on his belt while pulling Mary behind him. His flashlight hurdled a beam of white light that struck the heart of that darkness. The light was consumed. His flashlight flickered. The other cop's lights shot into the darkness but met a similar fate. None of the beams emerged from the other side like they should have. Instead they just ceased when they hit that darker darkness.

The air hissed and then it exploded outward in a gush. Everyone in the room was knocked backwards, tumbling to the ground. Bob's body was a heavy mass upon Mary's. She grunted. He rolled off her, clamoring to his feet.

She pushed herself back up. She couldn't find the air to breath. She breathed in faster, but it still wasn't enough. No matter how fast she pumped her ribs, the air refused to go into her lungs. She slapped herself in the face a few times. The pain helped to re-orientate her mind. She blinked back the white stars flashing across her vision and rubbed away the wetness in her eyes.

"Light would be great." It wasn't a voice she recognized.

"I don't, thank you very much. It's not how you treat a women. Let her out of prison for light? Light sex maybe! Just maybe as long as you promised much more later."

"Tahna, don't vex me. I'm not in the mood."

Pale silver light undulated like serpents crawling across the floor, walls, and ceiling. The light moved. It was the purest silver radiance that Mary had ever seen. It was beautiful.

"Cute," The first voice said. Now that it spoke again and the radiant glow worms wriggled over everything, she saw it was a man. A huge man. Like a mountain standing firm against everything the world had to throw at it. He wore the most gorgeous fur coat she'd ever seen. Somehow it reeked of masculinity and power. Muscles were chiseled like the skin was marble and some master artist had made the perfect statue. She'd always loved excessively muscled men. Men large and powerful that could dominate her in ways most were too timid to do. He had a pair of leather trousers on and boots.

Besides the man was a women of perfection. Her skin was porcelain white. Her body was flawless with curves Mary wished she had. She felt envy and greed overwhelm all her thoughts. It was impossible for someone to look so good. It was unfair. She couldn't take her eyes off the women. She couldn't even remember what she'd been doing before. Something that, well but the women was so beautiful. Even when the women tossed a tress over a shoulder and frowned at something.

"Her." The women said, raising one slender finger at Mary. "Can we go now?"

Something occluded her sight of the women. She moved her body to try and see the women. Whatever it was blocking her took up her enter vision.

"Release her from your glamour."

Mary pushed the thing in front of her away, but it didn't budge. She scrambled to get around it and see the women. If she could, she'd be happy again. Sure, she was sad that she was so ugly, but looking upon the women, no the goddess would help. Then at least she could see perfection and worship it. That'd help.

"Fine."

Mary blinked, taking a step back. One of the man's massive hands was upon her chin, tilting her head up toward his. His hands were warm and rough. "I'd have words, if you have the time."

"I like words." She blinked. When her eyes opened, she was in the hallway with him. When she blinked again, they were past the security door and in the entryway. Several of the security guards were scrambling towards them. In another blink, they were outside.

The man looked around. The night sky was velvet blackness. Even the stars were gone from the sky. Not a black fog, Bob had said. Something had swallowed the stars and the moon.

"This world has changed more than others." He frowned looking up at the sky, shaking his head. "I require your aid."

He changed from standing besides her to standing in front of her without moving. Had he disappeared for a moment? "What's going on? I don't. I was just inside. The numbers. What, who are you?"

"What was the number?"

That was something she could latch onto. The end of her career marked with those numbers. "026978." She worked some moisture onto her lips. Where'd all the saliva gone in her mouth?

"26,978 years relative." He frowned. "I'm hungry and tired. Where can we go?" The rain was gone but the water had flooded part of the street. A few people slunk beneath umbrellas and large parkas. A cold wind blew hard. The weather was all fucked up.

"Food," Mary said, gesturing with a shaky hand down the street. "A...diner. Ma's Diner."

"A dining cart?" His brows furrowed. "On a stationary locomotive?"

ChasNicollette said:

"We don't need to whisper," Rose promised Karan.

She held up the pale fingers of one hand. "You're right, though. I'm not-- I'm still learning the psychic stuff. But I can feel the irritation in the air like pea-soup fog. All I ever saw of The Justice League was them on TV looking like paragons of virtue. But I guess everyone has off-days."

Click to expand...

But what If I want to whisper to you.? Karan though. What if I want to kiss your ear and whisper things to you in the still of the night? Stifling a sigh, she curled her fingers. Afraid to reach out to speak for what she might say, at least for the moment.

"I know Mr. Luthor has licensed patents from NASA for the spaceplane Constitution that would have crashed at Metropolis International if Superman hadn't saved it in his debut all those years ago, but reworking those patents into an actual working craft is going to take months even for LuthorCorp's legendary R&D. So if one of you guys has-- I dunno-- some invisible plane or-- super-mobile-- that might be... good?"

Click to expand...

"I got two feet and heartbeat, so I can get there.. maybe I can carry one, or more if they are in a vehicle I can pick up?" Kara offered.

When we shared raindrops that turned into lakes. (Rose/M'gann/Hotline)

Varshanka said:

But what If I want to whisper to you.? Karan though. What if I want to kiss your ear and whisper things to you in the still of the night? Stifling a sigh, she curled her fingers. Afraid to reach out to speak for what she might say, at least for the moment.

Click to expand...

Rose's eyes widened.

Those all-red eyes.

And-- for all that she was perplexed about her orientation-- her identity--

--the sheer tenderness intent inherent in that thought sent shivers right down her pale endoskeletal spine.

Not like Lance Harrower's thoughts, all sticky and sweaty and stained, perverse and pervasive.

Gentle and sweet and passionate and longing but... respectful.

Rose hesitated.

And reached out and touched the back of Kara's hand. Offering to take that hand. For what that was worth.

<I can hear you,> she murmured, hesitantly, her mind to Karan's mind, and offered her a warm, hesitant, but-- game-to-try smile.

<You don't... need to whisper.>

Ruby watched the two of them with veiled interest, arched an eyebrow, but offered no comment aloud.

Varshanka said:

"I got two feet and heartbeat, so I can get there.. maybe I can carry one, or more if they are in a vehicle I can pick up?" Kara offered.

Click to expand...

"I can carry people too," Rose noted, speaking up, encouraged by Karan's suggestion. "With my hands and my... and my mind."

Ruby nodded slowly. "That's apples in the short term, aces, thanks for that. But like Aquaman said, our lives are fraught with peril an' a bluddy large number of pitfalls. If you two can't be there, we need a ride."