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Old 12-19-2015, 09:47 PM   #1
Nubian_Legend
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Exclamation Justice League: The New Wave (IC)

Justice League

The New Wave

The New League
(Big 7 - Designation)

A1: The Leader - Nightwing
A2: The Lancer - Aquaman
A3: The Badass - Wonder girl
A4: The Lightspeed - Silver Bullet
A5: The Canon- Martian Manhuntress
A6: The Ranger -
A7: The Ironheart - Kelly Bishop
A8: -----+

Notable Worlds


Earth-Prime: Prologue World
Earth-1: The "Main" World in which this story takes place
Earth-2: The "New" Verse
Earth-8: Elseworld ( A Non-DC world in origin where the other guys coexist)
Earth-10: Reich World (A world where Hitler comes to power with Nazi superman, Overman.)
Earth-11: Genderbend World
Earth-12: Beyond World(World in which Batman Beyond takes place)
Earth-18: Old Western Variant
Earth-21: 1950's style Golden Age World.
Earth-25: "Toon" World
Earth-31: Pirate World
Earth-32: Superhero Mashups
Earth-33: "Our" World
Earth-395: Medieval-inspired World

(A list of DC's Multiverse Worlds)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of...tiverse_worlds
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Old 12-19-2015, 09:49 PM   #2
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Earth-Prime

Prologue - Day of the Doomsday




(( Please don't respond to this, this is taking place on another planet))

"Iris West-Allen here reporting from CBS News at the scene of the crisis unfolding in downtown Star City. Just beyond me, the internationally assembled confederation of vigilante characters known as the justice league is doing battle with a being some theorize arrived from an extraterrestrial meteor shower sometime ago, some within the media have taken to referring to this extraterrestrial menace by the informal moniker...Doomsday. Doomsday is responsible for the reported mass casualties and incalculable damage going on within the last 24-hour period. If it weren't for this green construct barricade behind me. There might be a possibility I'd be one of those casualties." As she spoke, a bright red object streaked mid air, colliding violently into the constructs barrier, a bloodied figure slumped motionlessly behind Iris's backdrop.

"We have incoming reports, ...yes?...no... the flash has fallen...dear god" Iris looked into the live camera lens for words that seemed to elude her. An awkward stretch of silence followed. Her physical expression changing showing visibly distraught. The professional fought back tears, continuing her live reporting.

"Now Green Lantern is the latest confirmed casualty..." pausing. The green barricade behind her began to show visible cracks, ceasing to exist altogether. "That makes Batman, Aquaman, Hawkgirl, Wonder Woman and now Flash and Green Lantern. Only Supergirl is left to contend with Doomsday - the monstrous calamity that's already taken so many of our friends and loved ones. In earth's most dire hour, we can only ask... Where is superman?"[/b]. Iris glaring as incoming information came into her ear piece, she removed the piece and tossed it side. "And now Supergirl..."

She closed her eyes. She looked back at the red and yellow limp corpse just feet from her vantage. "I have to be with him...Iris West out." and she remained at his side, waiting for the inevitable, for it all to end. The roar of Doomsday in the background, by now the news crew had vacated out of fear for their own safety, leaving Iris behind with a rampaging Doomsday who seemed aware of her presence. The monster turned facing the direction of Iris, with a single fist to the ground, it unleashed a powerful shockwave. However that shockwave didn't reach her, it was neutralized long before it could do just that.

In the aftermath of the foiled shockblast, a familiar shield stood out bathed in the sun's radiant glow.



"I don't care if I have to sacrifice everything, you're fucking dead. Got that? Everyone I ever cared about is dead because of YOU monster!" He snapped at the beast before torpedoing himself in a blind rage.

A battle ensued between the man of steel and Doomsday.
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Old 12-21-2015, 03:52 PM   #3
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Earth-1



----------------------

Earth-1
On the surface this world has no notable deviations from Earth-Prime or Earth-0 as it's sometimes known. The same heroes and villains exist in the same fashion in much the same way as they did on Earth-Prime. The only difference being, the crisis never came to this world... Therefor, the threat of the CALAMITY at this point, seems unlikely.

This freshly created Universe is still cooling and as yet unformed. Earth-1’s known superbeings - the TEEN TITANS - are coming into the peak of their careers out of need to replace their mentors. Mysteriously and inexplicably. The world was without a BATMAN, WONDERWOMAN or SUPERMAN, as well as the Seven, the original founders of the Justice League. All missing without explanation. The world is aware of its absentee protectors and some seek to capitalize of their disappearance, things have taken an unjust leaning as of late...Alexander Luthor is the front-runner for presidency of the United States. Fascism and state-sponsored Terrorism is on the rise globally, inequality among people is more pronounced than it's ever been and the world is returning to a tribal state of affairs among nations. Talks of third world war seems more likely with each passing day. Religious conflicts, persecutions, corruption, violence and the rise of a superpowered populace, governments are rounding up individuals with super-powered abilities at an alarming pace in an arms race to find the next superman, people who don't comply with this new stature, are merely hunted down by special military contractors or go missing... The world is in need of guidance or it might not see itself to the next century.

Time and space are still pliable, and nothing here is certain...

A significant number of modern nations, populated by regular human beings, existed uniquely on Earth-One, and many of these had no direct counterparts on "nearby" parallel worlds such as Earth-Two or Earth-S.

---------------------





Kaldur'ahm taking on the supervillain trio of Livewire, Volcana and Killerfrost off the coast of Happy Harbor. Aboard the U.S.S Ravager.

Aquaman was attacked from all angles it seemed by the forces of mother nature itself--herself, simultaneous surges of fire, lightning and ice combined into a potent triple threat. He was hit with flames first. Most of which he ably dodged and countered with water construct. His atlantean physiology however not the best equipped to handle such conditions kept him at bay, then came lightning which he was mostly immune to, but staggered him nonetheless and then finally ice came, freezing him whole. He suspended in ice for a moment in cryogenic slumber until his body began to take in the icy structure around him, breaking it down into something he could mold, his icy coffin exploded into a shower of shrapnel, he used that moment of misdirection to get the drop on Volcana. The most dangerous of the elements of fury. Grabbing her and throwing her into the path of her sister Killer Frost who discharged another icewave this time, freezing Volcana in the process. Then he dealt with Killer Frost, while she was still in a spell of shock. Hammering her with a flail he formed his aqua bearers. By then, Livewire had gone on the offensive volley shockwaves, he managed to match her own shockwaves with his own sorcery for a minute they were locked until he overwhelmed her in a pinch. He tagged each with suppression collars, and with all three furies properly subdued and nullified, he began making preparations to send them to a facility for holding. Before that could happen though, he was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of another who'd managed sneak behind and press her steel to his side without his knowing, he heard stories of a female mercenary with skills comparable to Deathstroke, this was her the Ravager.
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Old 12-24-2015, 09:39 PM   #4
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Arrival Time is Here.

She stood watching as the sun set over the mountains. It was rather nice really, the soft glow of oranges and red, almost majestic. She could still see the contrail she left as she flew here, to see this. She’d spent several days seeing some of the worlds most amazing things. The Amazonian jungle. The snow capped Himalayan mountains. The Moss forest of Ireland. Mount Fuji.

She’d gone far and fast to see everything she could.

Snow melted when she moved, flying low, hugging the ground. Four heartbeats and she was moving through a city. Newspapers snapping in the windstorm that trailed after her. She shifted her altitude and flew over a train. Her fingers dipping to caress a wheat field.

Water passed beneath her fingers, a spray of steam hinting at her passage.

Land again. Slowing she touched down and walked, her eyes flickering from place to place.
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Old 12-27-2015, 08:46 AM   #5
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Hell will always come before you grow. (Rose/M'gann)

Six months ago, the dreams had started.

The strange dream where she had given her grandmother her heart and been given a new pale heart in return.

Dreams of red and gold sands.

Dreams of fire and pain and long-ago war.

And when the dreams started, the waking up sweating cold in her sheets...

...other things began, too.

It was like--

--it was like that bit in Bourne Identity when he suddenly remembered he could kick eight kinds of ass by taking out two cops on either side of him faster than it takes to tell.

--or that show Blindspot when she started conversing with people in other languages, Russian, Chinese, without knowing that she knew them.

--or that movie Limitless, when a brain-enhancing drug let Bradley Cooper extrapolate the tiniest memory of something into a fully-developed skill, debating on topics from texts he'd barely glanced at like a decade ago. (There was a show for that, too, but she hadn't watched it, it didn't seem as good as the movie; it had been a really good movie.)

--and it was a little bit like Highlander, where the bad-ass Scot swordsman started picking up mad skills from people whose heads he'd had to chop and whose Quickenings he'd absorbed.

Like she was remembering stuff she'd done all along, except it wasn't her. Except it was.

...except this was a little more complicated than suddenly knowing how to paint, or discovering those language tapes must have paid off, or knowing legal loopholes, this was more complicated than any of that.

Sometimes when she woke up from dreams of fire and pain, her whole room was topsy-turvy. Her books were all off the shelves, turned to random pages. Sometimes she would think of something she had left across the room, and then find it in her hand, or only inches away.

Sometimes when she read magazines and looked at the pictures-- she would look down at herself for a moment and discover to her shock and horror and sometimes dysphoria that she had suddenly started looking like a person in the pictures. Man, woman, Black, Hispanic, Asian, suddenly this tiny red-haired white girl would become someone else entirely-- and then snap back to herself like a rubber-band reflex when she realized she had changed.

And then, about a month ago, she had been visiting her friend Alix at the school program where Alix worked with autistic kids and other young developmentally-disabled people--

--and a man had come in with a gun, shouting some kind of nonsense, delirious and destructive--

--Alix and the kids had ducked and covered, seeking shelter even as the autistic kids screamed at the disruption of their routine, the loud noises--

--and Rose Walker had stood up in his face and waved her hand once--

--the gun had shattered into its component parts, its clip going one way and its slide going the other--

--and she swept her hand back again, almost lazily, like tai chi--

--and the gunman had hurtled straight backwards, cracked hard enough into the wall behind him that he made a crater, and crumpled unconscious to the floor.

There were strange things and impossible beings in this world, everyone knew that. Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, that green guy who liked Oreos--

--but a lot of people still went about their lives as though everything were normal, because the mad mad mad mad mad stuff was always stuff that happened to someone else, on the news or in the big city.

And as Rose Walker (she had to remind herself of her name because sometimes she remembered a different name, whispered in her mind's ear and yet she could never quite think of it when she tried to pronounce it later), stared down at her hands, literally white as a sheet--

--she had realized then that now she was someone else.

********

It had been six months since the dreams started.

One month since she swatted aside a disarmed gunman with a thought.

And now she was standing atop a roof in New York, The Cinderella City--

--and she was pale as the moon, with a blue cape rippling in the winds.

She could hear the cries of the city's pain in her head-- all those people-- she could hear their sadness and their heartbreak and feel their literal physical pain almost psychosomatically.

The world was different now.

What was she going to do about it?

Last edited by ChasNicollette : 06-05-2016 at 08:58 PM.
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Old 12-27-2015, 09:34 PM   #6
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Clinton, NY or at least that's what it was known as now. Since the early 1990s, the area has been gentrifying, and rents skyrocketed. Located close to both Broadway theatres and Actors Studio training school, Hell's Kitchen has long been a home to learning and practicing actors. But there were still a few people that remembered the Manhattan neighborhood between 34th Street in the south, 59th Street in the north, Eighth Avenue in the east, and the Hudson River to the west by it's old name of Hell's Kitchen. But even though the appearance of the neighborhood had changed to match what the city planners had wanted at night the true soul of the neighborhood would emerge.

Tonight was no different.

Angela and her family had just left the small theatre where she had just finished her first time as the lead actress. Her father and mother in their late fifties were proud of her as was evident in the conversation the three were having. So engrossed were they in that conversation that neither of them had noticed when they had wandered into a dark alley. That was until a rather dirty man spoke up. “Hey mister give me a dollar. Hey mister it’s just a freaking dollar?”

Mr. Bower didn’t say anything, instead he protectively put his arms around his wife and daughter and ushered them along the way. They could see the other side of the alley and his intention was to get there as quickly as possible before something could happen to them.

Unfortunately things didn’t work out as he hoped. Out of nowhere another man appeared and hit him on the back of the head knocking him out. He then pointed the gun he had used at Mrs. Bower and her daughter and told her to do themselves a favor and not to scream. While he held the gun, the man that had spoken earlier was grabbing not just Mr. Bower’s wallet but also Mrs. Bowers purse. Then they disappeared out of sight.

They thought they had gotten clean away, but they were wrong. The two thugs were petty criminals that were wasted on drugs most of the time. Or else they would have known that in the last few months criminals were having problems in Hell’s Kitchen. A problem they ran into that seemed to be nothing but a shadow, but when he hit them it was as if they were being hit by stone. The first blow was to the man with the loot, his knee was shattered in one hit. The gunmen spun to where his friend had fallen and was pointing his gun at no place in particular when something grabbed his arm and bent it further than it should be. When all was said and done the two men would be spending some time in the county hospital before going to jail for armed robbery. But once they were in prison they would pass on the message that Hell’s Kitchen had a new protector and he was called Nightwing…
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Old 12-28-2015, 12:42 AM   #7
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Quote:
Originally Posted by ChasNicollette View Post
Six months ago, the dreams had started.

The strange dream where she had given her grandmother her heart and been given a new pale heart in return.

Dreams of red and gold sands.

Dreams of fire and pain and long-ago war.

And when the dreams started, the waking up sweating cold in her sheets...

...other things began, too.

It was like--

--it was like that bit in Bourne Identity when he suddenly remembered he could kick eight kinds of ass by taking out two cops on either side of him faster than it takes to tell.

--or that show Blindspot when she started conversing with people in other languages, Russian, Chinese, without knowing that she knew them.

--or that movie Limitless, when a brain-enhancing drug let Bradley Cooper extrapolate the tiniest memory of something into a fully-developed skill, debating on topics from texts he'd barely glanced at like a decade ago. (There was a show for that, too, but she hadn't watched it, it didn't seem as good as the movie; it had been a really good movie.)

--and it was a little bit like iZombie, where the pretty pale zombie chick suddenly started picking up mad skills from people whose brains she'd had to eat from the morgue.

Like she was remembering stuff she'd done all along, except it wasn't her. Except it was.

...except this was a little more complicated than suddenly knowing how to paint, or discovering those language tapes must have paid off, or knowing legal loopholes, this was more complicated than any of that.

Sometimes when she woke up from dreams of fire and pain, her whole room was topsy-turvy. Her books were all off the shelves, turned to random pages. Sometimes she would think of something she had left across the room, and then find it in her hand, or only inches away.

Sometimes when she read magazines and looked at the pictures-- she would look down at herself for a moment and discover to her shock and horror and sometimes dysphoria that she had suddenly started looking like a person in the pictures. Man, woman, Black, Hispanic, Asian, suddenly this tiny red-haired white girl would become someone else entirely-- and then snap back to herself like a rubber-band reflex when she realized she had changed.

And then, about a month ago, she had been visiting her friend Alix at the school program where Alix worked with autistic kids and other young developmentally-disabled people--

--and a man had come in with a gun, shouting some kind of nonsense, delirious and destructive--

--Alix and the kids had ducked and covered, seeking shelter even as the autistic kids screamed at the disruption of their routine, the loud noises--

--and Rose Walker had stood up in his face and waved her hand once--

--the gun had shattered into its component parts, its clip going one way and its slide going the other--

--and she swept her hand back again, almost lazily, like tai chi--

--and the gunman had hurtled straight backwards, cracked hard enough into the wall behind him that he made a crater, and crumpled unconscious to the floor.

There were strange things and impossible beings in this world, everyone knew that. Superman, Wonder Woman, Batman, that green guy who liked Oreos--

--but a lot of people still went about their lives as though everything were normal, because the mad mad mad mad mad stuff was always stuff that happened to someone else, on the news or in the big city.

And as Rose Walker (she had to remind herself of her name because sometimes she remembered a different name, whispered in her mind's ear and yet she could never quite think of it when she tried to pronounce it later), stared down at her hands, literally white as a sheet--

--she had realized then that now she was someone else.

********

It had been six months since the dreams started.

One month since she swatted aside a disarmed gunman with a thought.

And now she was standing atop a roof in New York, The Cinderella City--

--and she was pale as the moon, with a blue cape rippling in the winds.

She could hear the cries of the city's pain in her head-- all those people-- she could hear their sadness and their heartbreak and feel their literal physical pain almost psychosomatically.

The world was different now.

What was she going to do about it?
It was like all of the media she had consumed, screaming inside her head. She remembered the movies that she had watched and tried to embody the protagonists. Every morning she wakes up and open-palm slams a VHS into the slot. It's Chronicles of Riddick and right then and there she starts doing all the moves alongside the main character. It takes her two hours, every morning. Now she's ready to fight crime.
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Old 12-28-2015, 01:05 PM   #8
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Kelley Bishop

It had been nearly a week since the incident that had freed her from the handlers’ control. For the first time in nearly four years, the voice in her head was solely her own. She was finally unbound from the puppeteers, her strings cut and her free will restored. The initial elation was cut short as she looked down at her hands, or more accurately, what was left of her hands. The metallic covering with the electroactive polymer bundles underneath had replaced much of what she had used to call herself. She still found small reminders of herself in the reflection she saw: her long, raven hair; the small piercing she had in her nose from when she was 17 and was in a rebellious mood; the way she still always felt cold. She didn’t know what to do with herself as she couldn’t go back to her old life. Technically, she was dead and there was a headstone at her family plot near the small town in Missouri where she had been raised.

She stayed in the industrial district, scavenging what she could when she needed it. Her internal power cell continued to hum, as it would for the next 76 years. She never truly felt hungry, but ate when the opportunity arose. There was no purpose, no drive, just survival.

She was sitting on the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, staring out over the city, when she felt the twinge. Her vision blacked for a second and various prompts and technogarbage floated in the darkness. Her leg shot out and kicked a small hole in the cement parapet and she felt the warmth in her arm as the plasma cannon began to charge. She shook her head and rose unsteadily to her feet. Her vision cleared and she saw a small black helicopter lazily floating through the sky above. She narrowed her eyes, zooming in on the small craft with the enhanced optics that had been implanted. The bottom of the helicopter was covered in antennas and small dishes. They were looking for her, trying to reestablish control, trying to bring her back under their command. She shook her head again, trying to clear her mind from the voices that were trying to get back in. Her body flushed hot as the wave of anger hit her. It wasn’t the best part of her personality and she knew it, but she still felt fury towards them. Why couldn’t they have let her die? Why couldn’t she be resting peacefully next to her parents in Missouri? Why did they have to use her for such terrible things? She hadn’t been in control but had seen everything, felt everything. She had cried out, screaming furiously in her head each time she had “terminated” one of their targets. She had sobbed internally as the collateral damage was deemed “acceptable” and her missions were carried out with mechanical precision, leaving all who opposed either dead or maimed.

She wouldn’t go back to that life. She wouldn’t go back to be being controlled. She had the plasma cannon charged and ready to fire. She was being hunted and there was only one solution she saw in front of her.

She turned and ran. She leapt off the rooftop down to the alley letting the large shock absorbers built into the legs and torso bear the brunt of the fall. She rose quickly on the balls of her feet and ran. Her footfalls came heavy as she opened up the mechanical body she now inhabited. The artificial muscles felt no fatigue as she sprinted, covering the first five miles at a three-minute-mile pace. She wove between the buildings, ducking in and out of alleyways and cutting through abandoned buildings. She took pause in an abandoned manufacturing plant, the large steel and iron structure blocking any view from above.

She closed her eyes and delved deep into her partly mechanical mind, pulling up technical specifications, repair orders, construction diagrams and wiring schematics on her body. She connected to the web and began to cross-reference things, searching for a correlation. She didn’t know exactly what she was looking for, but she knew she would know it when she found it. Schematics on her energy core, ballistic resistivity tests of the carbon-ceramic armor plating, rewiring diagrams from the incident in Kiev. She paused and went back. There it was. A simple set of circuits and a small wiring harness that connected her central processors to her built-in microwave antenna. That was how they were controlling her. She opened up the access port near her ribs and snaked her fingers inside and pulled out the small circuit board and unclipped the wiring harness.

She closed the access port, dropped the board on the cement floor, and crushed it to dust with her heel. They would never be able to control her again, but they would still be looking. She paced the building for nearly three hours until the darkness of night engulfed the city, and again she ran.
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Old 12-29-2015, 11:25 PM   #9
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Silver Bullet

The professor, Dr. Ellis Kane, droned on and on in an auditorium of 500 students. Nestled within the sea of students was a young man, head tipped back with a laptop in his lap and blue Beat headphones cupping his ears.

Woah…look at that.

It’s The Flash!

This is Ted Brunson with Channel 7 News. Our news copters have been following a high-speed—more like super speed chase between The Flash and some speedy villain. It is difficult for us to keep up, but we have our choppers scattered throughout Los Angeles doing our best to follow this chase…

Hiro’s eyes cracked open, peering up at the auditorium lights. He was still here? Sitting upright, he first noticed two heads peering over his shoulders. Glancing at the students behind him strangely, he then followed their eyes to the laptop in his lap.

Just in…The Flash has left Los Angeles. He was last seen headed north!

What? The Flash? Hiro thought.

He replayed the video and listened closely.

Headed North? Like to San Francisco?

His blood was racing with excitement. This could be his chance. He could become famous and get his name out there if he helps The Flash catch the bad guy. Hiro couldn’t bear to sit there any longer. Physics class over being a hero wasn’t even debatable. Keeping his head down, he grabbed his bag and waded out of the student pool to the aisle. Shouldering his bag, he couldn’t resist the smile that stretched across his face. He felt just like a superhero, running out of class to save the day.

Once he was outside, Hiro found a bench to jog over and sit on. Opening his laptop, he began searching for more news articles, videos, anything that he could find to track The Flash’s movements.

“Come on, come on, I need to know how far north he’s going,” he anxiously muttered.

There wasn’t much information since that news video. Some people twittered having claimed to see him running through their town. Bowing his head, Hiro cursed under his breath.

“I…I have to catch The Flash.”

Could he do it? Was he fast enough? Wait…

Even if I run south there’s no guarantee that I’ll run into him. I’ll just have to sprint around California.

It was crazy, but he was certain that he could do it. He was The Silver Bullet. If he was to be faster than The Flash one day, then he would have to try. Closing his laptop, Hiro opened his bag and gazed inside it at his silver uniform. Smirking, he glanced around to make sure that no students were watching before he winked out of existence.

It was like racing through a wind tunnel. Hiro had swiftly changed and the world was a blur of smears and light. His dark, feathery hair fluttered as he shot through the streets like a silver streak.

“All right; time to kick it up a notch!” he exclaimed before he really started to run.


Somewhere in California

“What’s a matter Flash? Too fast for ya?” the blonde-headed speedster shouted over his shoulder.

Barry Allen’s determined scowl never changed. He was trying to figure the villain out. He called himself Fast Forward. His speed was unusual. From what he could tell, he wasn’t using the Speed Force. How was he going so fast? He wasn’t use to people being able to outrun him. He was used to catching the guy by now, but this guy had a trick. No matter how fast or how slow he ran, Fast Forward could stay ahead of him.

Fast looked back at The Flash, flaunting his teeth in a jubilant grin.

“How does it feel to be second Flash? You will always be staring at my back. You will never be able to catch me!”

Laughing snidely, Fast returned his eyes to the path before him, and was shocked to see a man charging toward him. It was as though the world had slowed down before his eyes and yet when he saw the other speedster extend his arm before his neck, he did nothing but watch. What…the…fu-

The speedster’s arm met his throat and Fast’s tongue shot out of his mouth on a hoarse gasp. His feet flew out from under him as he flipped in mid-air. Hiro had retracted his arm as next to pass him was a stunned Flash. His mouth dropped at the sight of the unknown speedster. Hiro flashed him a cheesy grin and was gone as they both sped off in opposite directions.

Barry quickly slowed down, spreading his arms to halt his immense speed. Fast had crashed and rolled a few yards behind him. Lying curled and crumbled in the middle of the road, Fast’s eyes were wide and mouth agape with his pants. The Flash walked over to him, eyes narrowing as he gazed down upon the villain.

“Who-who…was that?” Fast asked.

“…I don’t know,” Barry replied, “But I’m glad he…helped out I guess. Someone had to stop you. Tell me…how do you do it? You’re fast, but you derive your speed from something else.”

Fast grunted painfully and chuckled. “I can shorten time. The time it would take you to finish a race, I can finish it in less time. That is why I will always be ahead of you.” He laughed. “I will always be faster than you—than anyone!”

The Flash frowned. “Apparently not faster than the law.”


Berkley, California

Back in Berkley, Hiro braked back on campus next to the bench and his bag.

“Woo!” he cheered. Thrusting his fists into the air, he exclaimed, “I helped The Flash! I can’t believe it. He saw me, and I saw him. I can’t believe that my clothesline trick worked!”

He glanced at his arm and rubbed it a bit. “That had actually kind of hurt.”

Hiro’s eyes then grew when he noticed the bare skin of his arm. “What…”

Glancing down at his nakedness, his cheeks flushed red. What happened to his uniform? Had it blown off? He had gone faster than he usual. But wait that meant…peering back into his memory. The Flash’s mouth dropping open replayed in his mind. It hadn’t been because he had come out of nowhere like a bad ass to help him. It was because he had done it bare-ass naked!

“Fuuuu~ck!” Hiro screamed. Grasping his bag, he mashed it over his crotch and quickly ran away before anyone could call the cops on him.
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Old 12-30-2015, 11:33 PM   #10
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Trial by fire...

Looking up at the moon she felt the wonder and glory fill her, lifting her spirit. Soon enough she felt her feet leave the ground as she floated higher with happiness. Happiness that crashed to Earth almost as fast as she did as the tearing scream of metal join with the snapping of bone, the sick wet sound of flesh ripping assaulted her ears, the scent of blood filled her nose.

Black top melted as she crashed to earth, her feet sinking deep as she launched herself upwards. Her head snapped to the side as she rolled, lightening fast the air snapped and cracked with a boom. She didn’t even land as she flew low enough to the ground to scoop up the crumpled child. A microblast snapped windows of cars that she left behind.

Landing at the emergency doors she glared at the sensor a micro burst of red energy opening the door. And melting the system beyond repair. Walking inside she shouldered the door open the rest of way to screeching aluminum and breaking glass.

Laying the child on a counter she looked up, unnoticed tears running down her cheeks. “Major internal damage. Broken chest bone.. ribs.. A lot of.. internal.. bleeding. Help. More..coming.”

Back at the accident scene she threw cars out to the ocean, removing them from the roadway, and her way.

******

Leaning against a building she felt her arms, legs, and lungs burning. It felt like she’d ripped her arms out of their sockets. And rammed them back into place without waiting to heal.

With her knuckles bleeding and the concrete wall turned to dust around her she stood and cried. She’d heard about the girl she’d tried to save. But only now could she react. Only know could she understand what she’d heard.

Dead. Died. Deceased. Internal cranial hemorrhaging. She was dead before she’d left the accident scene.

Pain. Rage. It filled her to overflowing. She couldn’t hold it in.

She screamed.

Glass around vaporized. Powdered. A mile away it cracked. 2 miles away it shook in it’s frames.
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Old 12-30-2015, 11:36 PM   #11
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Rose Wilson - Ravager
Ninja. Cyclops. Mercenary. President of Basilisk Military Company. Deathstroke's umm... girl


The lethal meta-mercenary managed to pin blades to Kaldur's sides, seizing on the brief lapses in his defenses following the exchange with the elemental fury sisters. So smooth and muted she was in her actions. Almost like she could read his movements ahead of time and react with uncanny timing and precision. "It looks like I caught a big one this time, and a yummy one he is. Mmmmh. " She allowed one of her ninja blades to trail the length of his spine, expelling cold breath into his shoulder as her breathing seemed to suggest a "rush" of adrenaline activity, she made superficial cuts along the grain of his mesh wet wear. She was if anything a consummate professional."The names Ravager and you my friend are somewhere you ought not to be. You're on a private liner causing problems for these fine young lady friends of mine, I could filet you right about now...if that were my thing. Seeing as that's not what I'm paid for... " She sheathed her swords, but swept him with her heel. "Doesn't mean I can't have a little fun." They were locked in a grappling match of sorts, with her eventually gaining the top position and saddling him. "Is it morning already? Look at all that blood not going to your head, your blood pressure must be through the roof right now." She laughed while relaxing herself.

"You know I heard about you before, but I never thought I'd see Manta's boys for myself. The name's Rose loverboy. " She leaned forward placing a peck on his cheek. After some time, the two were approached by one other. An outline and voice Kaldur he recognized all too well. David Ray. Black Manta, his biological father.


Rose soon stood, retiring to Black Manta's side. They seemed like they had an understanding. Things were starting to make some sense. The entire thing was just a setup to get him there.

"It's been a long time son..."
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Old 01-07-2016, 08:03 PM   #12
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Dream a Little Dream of Me. (Rose/M'gann)

"Have you ever had one of those days when something just seems to be trying to tell you somebody?"
-John Constantine.

********

...Now, there's one in California who's been cursing my name
'Cause I found me a better lover in the UK
Hey, hey, until I made my getaway

One, two, three, they gonna run back to me
'Cause I'm the best baby that they never gotta keep
One, two, three, they gonna run back to me
They always wanna come, but they never wanna leave--


She trundled into the cemetery in her ramshackle little pale-blue Hyundai Accent, her phone plugged into the aux jack and playing on shuffle. This song had been haunting her lately, and she hit "skip" as soon as she had a hand free.

Winding her way slowly through the path that circuited through the graveyard, Rose squinted at the passing headstones to make sure she found the right one.

She hadn't known Wanda personally.

She'd been more of a friend of a friend.

But she'd reconnected with Barbie recently, after their former housemate Zelda had passed from AIDS. And Barbie had told her about Wanda, caught in and killed by a strange storm that had hit New York some months ago. And they'd taken to looking after Wanda's grave.

There's a maniac out in front of me.
Got an angel on my shoulder, and Mestopheles.
but mama raised me good, mama raised me right.
Mama said, "Do what you want, say prayers at night,"
And I'm saying them, 'cause I'm so devout.
'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out, yeah.


...skip.

See-- from what Rose had heard, Wanda had been a wonderful lady. Imagination and sass throughout.

But Wanda's mother was one of those puritanical types, a real conservative's conservative, and had insisted on cutting Wanda's hair and dressing her up in a suit for her burial. Had insisted on putting Wanda's birth name-- though Rose had heard the going phrase for this was "deadname," now --on the gravestone.

So this wonderful human being that Barbie had remembered so fondly as a woman had been forcibly reverted to a boy in death, and this was a great travesty.

They always told you when you were a kid, "be yourself," except when certain people tried to be themselves they were called abominations and anathema and cast out of formerly loving homes in the name of some scrap of Scripture.

If I was a man I'd make my move
If I was a blade I'd shave you smooth
If I was a judge I'd break the law
And if I was from Paris
If I was from Paris
I would say
Ooh la la la la la la la


...skip.

When Barbie had left Wanda's funeral, she had graffiti'd Wanda's grave so that it said her real name instead of "Alvin Mann," whoever he was.

But of course whenever Wanda's mommy dearest had come back around, she'd ordered it scrubbed clean.

So Barbie, and now Rose, were engaged in this little Banksy-o'-war with Wanda's mother-- they'd put her name to right, and Mama Mann would try to put it back.

Rose got out of the car once she'd pulled even with the right headstone, and found that, yes, Mama Mann had washed away the last batch of light yellow Michigan Hardcore Propellant spray paint, and the name Alvin was once more plain as day.

Sighing sadly, Rose left a bouquet of lilies on the grave itself, and then narrowed her eyes at the headstone.

She raised a hand, extended a finger-- it was a little bit like that guy Sylar on "Heroes," the way he carved open a brain --and, clenching her jaw tightly with the exertion of focus, she-- willed...

...and there in the air she traced the name "Wanda" like she was writing it in a fogged-over car window.

...and there on the bedrock of the headstone there scrrrrraaaaaaaped into the surface a jagged letter "W," then "A," then "N," and on...

...with her mind over this matter she chiseled Wanda's name deep into the stone itself.

No doubt, incensed, Wanda's bio mom would flip out and drop a huge chunk of change to install a new headstone. Well, Rose would fix that one too.

Turning to walk back to the car, Rose gave Wanda's resting place a little wave.

"Hey, Wanda. Barbie says 'hey,' too. I hope you can rest in a little more peace, now."

She got back into the Hyundai, made to drive off.

The playlist shuffled again.

Let's Marvin Gaye and get it on
You got the healing that I want--


Skip.

"Jesus," Rose muttered to herself. "What is with my playlist today? I thought this was Spotify, not OKCupid."

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Old 01-09-2016, 10:08 PM   #13
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We are The Children of The Sun, that's all you need to know. (Rose/M'gann)

"After a lifetime of regrets, I'm just looking for some answers."
-Tinie Tempah.

********

Lance and Alix Harrower were good friends of Rose's. Well, Alix was, Lance was there because Alix was there.

They were an odd couple-- at least, Lance was odd, and it was odd that Alix was with him because she seemed so normal.

When Alix and Rose were hanging out, Lance would sometimes jokingly call them "The Red-Headed League," and Rose respected that it was a Sherlock Holmes riff but there was something... odd about the joke, something distant and creepy and, well, odd.

It had only gotten worse in the last few months.

Lance was a scientist, working on a substance he called "smartskin," a silvery metallic coating intended to bond to human tissue and render it impervious to injury and pain, render it superhumanly strong. A person coated with smartskin wouldn't just be a Man of Steel... they'd be a Human Bullet.

But on his quest to get it to successfully bond with organic matter, Lance had become withdrawn, a hermit, and more than a little mildly obsessive, lurking in his basement laboratory at all hours of the night and only rarely coming out during the day.

After successfully armoring a small mouse-- nicknamed "Metal Mickey" after a robot from this British 80's sitcom --Lance had since hit a wall when it came to successfully spreading smartskin over a larger surface area. And he was starting to get twitchy about it. Even... odder.

Rose was visiting, sitting in the Harrowers' kitchen waiting for Alix to get changed from work so they could go out. Alix had laughed faintly that her friendship with Rose was about all she had left of a social life since Lance had begun sequestering himself in his lab, and Rose wanted to give Alix a chance to decompress. Working with children on the autism spectrum couldn't be easy work, and being able to reconnect with neurotypical behaviors was important to prevent burn-out. Given that Lance was exhibiting behaviors that, while not neurodivergent, were decidedly "abnormal," he was hardly benefiting Alix in that respect.

Paging absently through a science journal, Rose squinted at the words. Some of them almost made sense to her. She wasn't dumb, she just didn't have that background-- but it was weird. Some of the passages on brain function, she could almost hear a voice whispering at the back of her own brain-- those conclusions are fallacious-- even an infant on my world knows instinctively more about molecular neurology than your most advanced theoreticians--

--the basement door creaked, and Rose glanced up with a start.

Unshaven, rumpled, blonde hair a mess, wearing a white t-shirt and khaki pants that looked like they hadn't been changed in a week-- Lance Harrower blinked at her owlishly for a moment as he stood in the basement doorway with an empty coffee mug.

"Need coffee," he explained, awkwardly. "Cheese for Mickey. He's so strong now, burns so much energy."

"Uh, 'kay," Rose nodded, seriously feeling that awkwardness. "You go right ahead and get that, then. Knock yourself out."

"Mm," Lance nodded, shuffled over to the coffeemaker. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, and then glanced at Rose. "How old are you?"

Rose squinted at him. "Uh, 23."

He nodded again, absently, scritched at the sandpaper hairs on his chin. "Alix is 27 now. She's so gorgeous. I think she looks like one of those superheroes on TV. But she's starting to get those little lines around her eyes, she never had those before."

Utterly unsure what to do with this, Rose stared at him, struggling to process. "Hey, it happens, right? Smile lines mean she's lived a happy life."

"You don't have those, though," Lance noted. "Not yet. You could still pass for 18, 19, barely legal."

Rose stiffened a bit, what the actual fuck, what the Hell kind of social gaffe--

"I think you might actually look younger now than when Alix first met you," Lance turned to face her more fully, took a half-step towards her across the kitchen. "I don't know what your secret is, but it's working for you. You're lucky. It's a whole new world now, you know? With the superheroes-- Wonder Woman-- immortals-- wouldn't it be great to look young forever? To run around with the elite, to play on that level? To ask Green Lantern to dinner? That's what I want for me and Alix. Before we're too old. That's all I want."

Rose stared at him, alarm bells trilling in her frontal cortex. "Have you talked to Alix about this? Is that what Alix wants? I'm sure all she wants is a normal life."

That's all I wanted. I don't know if I'll ever get that back.

"Being young forever means not being able to grow or change and I actually think that might be Alix' idea of Hell. She works to help developmentally disabled people develop-- you can't see how pause-buttoning her life goes against everything she believes in?"


"She'll miss it when it's gone," Lance insisted, "her flat abs, those amazing breasts, her lips, those long, strong arms and legs-- you're tiny and petite but you're another different kind of pretty, why would you want to lose that--?"

He took another step towards her, and instead of alarm bells klaxoning in her head, his smelly, sweat-stained thoughts kind of unfolded behind her eyes--

--it was literally like stumbling onto his browser history--

--his surface memories were logjammed with the stuff, all this--

--superhero-themed porn, Rule 34, this site called Eternal Superteen with these just-past-jailbait starlets that claimed to be superhuman and immortal, maybe it was just Hollywood special effects, capitalizing on this subculture, maybe they actually did have powers--

--Lance was practically drunk on the concept, intoxicated with it--

--he wanted to be the kind of man who could fuck that kind of woman forever--

--he'd been sending lusty fanmails to one of the models, Sally Sonic, and--

--oh, God, Rose didn't want to see this, she couldn't unsee this, the tawdry exchanges over email, IM, Skype--

--cheating on Alix with this impossible creature--

--Rose clutched at her head, scrunched her eyes shut, clapped her hands around her head.

"Oh, God, please stop, please-- just-- stop-- you skuzzball--"

Lance stopped sharply, eyes wide, uncomprehending, panic dancing around the fringes of his mind, it was his turn to have alarm bells.

Rose stood up from the kitchen table, stepped towards him, jaw grim eyes dancing darkly-- poking Lance in the chest-- "I don't care. I don't-- slut-shame-- you sleep with who you want to sleep with-- polyamorize with who you want to polyamorize with-- but you don't get to lie about it. It's the-- dishonesty, that fucking galls me. You know how gorgeous a person Alix is, inside and out-- you're gonna cheat on her and lie about it? Lie about why you want this smartskin to work? Not so you and Alix can be husband and wife superheroes or whatever, but so you can waltz off into the jizz-stained glitz with someone else? I don't care what makes you cum, but you are gonna come clean with your goddamned wife, you hear me?"

Lance looked like his world was ending, everything was melting down in his mind, neurons were about ready to start cross-firing-- "Please. Please don't tell Alix."

"No," Rose scowled. "No, you coward. You're gonna tell her. You've got this one chance to tell her. And if you don't, then I will."

"Hey!" Alix' voice echoed from upstairs. "Sorry about the hold-up, Rose, I just got a lash in my eye, I'll be right down!"

Rose locked gazes with Lance, didn't look away from him, didn't waver, as she called back to Alix.

"Take your time, hon, I'm ready when you are."

Lance slunk backwards. And then turned and ducked back down into the basement, swinging the door shut behind him like he was crawling under a rock.

A few moments later, Alix descended, looking puzzled. "Hey, did I hear Lance just now?"

"He made a cameo appearance," Rose allowed, trying to keep the revulsion, the nausea out of her voice.

Alix really did look amazing. Every bit as superhero-esque as Lance proclaimed. But to take that to such a dark place, to twist it-- Rose wasn't ready to acknowledge that sort of underbelly to reality. She just wanted to enjoy the company of her beautiful friend.

Rose herself hadn't ever felt the need to specifically categorize her sexuality. She just thought pretty people were pretty, is all. Maybe she got a few more crushes than your average josephine, that was nothing terrible. She didn't go around ruining people's lives with lies and secrets. She found Alix decidedly crushable. But they had a good friendship, and Rose valued that. Every relationship had place and value on the spectrum of friends and lovers and she liked this spot, this friendship with Alix.

At the thought of Lance wandering out into the daylight, Alix winced a bit. "He didn't harass you, did he? He's-- he's been working so hard, I think sleep deprivation is making him go bonkers. I wish I knew what was going on in his head right now."

Rose smiled tightly. "Hey, I'm no scientist. But just-- I think if you're worried about what's going with him-- nothing wrong with making sure the lines of communication are good and open."

"Yeah," Alix nodded hesitantly, and then smiled wearily. "Yeah, you're right. I'll talk to him. But later. For now, let's go have some fun."

"Mm," Rose grinned a lopsided grin, that actually sounded pretty awesome. "Fun sounds like just the kind of fun I could use right now."

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Old 01-10-2016, 11:30 AM   #14
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Exclamation In-Game Event / Time-Skip

In-Game Event - Metropolis on Fire / A Streaker's Origin






The game has progressed approximately one week to the date of January 18, 2016.

Metropolis 3:00 am, and the city is on fire. Metropolis was no stranger to this kind of thing having experienced just about every kind of monster of the week you could think of, most of whom had the decency to at least have some pants on first. This sight of the mad streaker on the other hand was something most unusual altogether. Without superman around to nip this thing in the bud, the city would be hard pressed to deal with the swelling problem firmly, hopefully he'd come to his senses before he'd make too much of a mess. Fortunately, there hadn't been any confirmed casualties up to this point, but still...a naked guy with super strength on a rampage , it didn't get any more scary than that.

In response to Superman's indefinite absence, Lex luthor took control of city's police and emergency departments, centralizing them as a force under Lex Corp. They had more resources and technology at their disposal , but they were still mostly ineffective at dealing with these kind of threats. A squad car pulled up not far from the scene of the rampage. Two officers exited the vehicle. One pointing to the sky to alert his partner of the man's position.

"Look up in the sky. It's a bird? It's a plane? No... suspect appears to be a naked black male, early-to-mid twenties showing erratic behaviors. Approach with extreme caution. " The officer radioed into the intercom.

The streaker came down hard from his position atop Lexcorp tower, setting off a mini richter from his fall. The officers stumbled for their guns, and began unloading a full clip at the man only for those bullets to falls to the ground as useless ground fodder.

"he's immune bullets as well? "One of the officers remarked, turning to his partner. "Well, damn." The officer eased up from his trigger. A stray drop of sweat rolling away from his face. They then turned to look at each other. Knowing well this might be their last tour together, the man began to approach the pair, shouting some type of indecipherable language.

"Που βρισκομαι; Ποιος είσαι?
Που βρισκομαι; Ποιος είσαι? "

Before he could reach them, almost out of nowhere, he'd been blitzed back by a powerful wave of blue...magic? The first time this implacable naked man had been off his feet.

"No need to worry. I Aquaman will handle it from here."

"Thank God for Aquaman. " The officer sighed then evacuated the scene with his partner close behind. The man soon rose to his feet showing no visible injuries, charging a distracted Kaldur'ahm.
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Old 01-10-2016, 04:17 PM   #15
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She stood.
She watched.
She broke inside.

Why was this world so cruel and vicious and hateful. She wondered as her eyes gazed across the stone markers of the dead. More dead here in this small park than had ever died on Themyscira.

You couldn’t die there. Everyone was forever. Sure they aged, but the oldest was from before the time of Christ. Probably had gone out and met him a time or two as well. But she still had breath in her lungs and blood flowing in her veins.

Not to say that her sisters couldn’t be killed. Ares had seen to that.
Here she stood.

Here she watched as a stone tablet was changed to tell a different name.

A different death was mourned.

She knew people died, otherwise the world would be overflowing with the living. But why had Hades sent Charon to collect someone so young.

*****

The teddy bear was soaked through, not with the yellow tint of gasoline, or the clear drenching of water from firehose. Saturated inside with the dark red of life. A child’s toy. A child’s life.

Reaching down she picked it up, anger and rage filling her eyes as the stuffed animal dried.

*****

Setting the bear on the tablet of granite her eyes burned and tears flowed.

Turning she moved and flew, darting into the sky. A snapping crack sounding as she flew ever higher.

A small forgotten teddy lay there, watching from it’s stone bed as the girl flew away, trying to drown her pain in the silence of space.
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Old 01-10-2016, 04:37 PM   #16
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Intruder Alert.

Traveling low, she sped across the water, inches from the surface. So close she felt it caressing her face and wetting her lips. She couldn’t touch the water at this speed. She’d tried that. Burned the oxygen and hydrogen molecules from the water, changing it’s structure and turning it into a thick plasmoid substance that had detonated behind her.

The wind she created snapped at her hair like a whip. And she darted upwards her hands ripping through the metal ball that watched her. She’d started smashing these things when she noticed them watching her. Changing direction and angle to track her movements.

With a hard kick she sent it traveling towards the sun.

*****

Diving down she flew towards the city below her, stopping a hundred meters from the surface of the planet. It was hard getting used to stopping before hitting. Always in a hurry to get someplace and do something.

She’d even tried playing games. But everything was just so.. difficult.

She’d broken bats, just by swinging them. A baseball had exploded. The basket ball deflated when she grabbed it. They never did find the football again.

She was sure it was in orbit….
…. Around Mars.

A hundred meters above the surface she floated, watching what was happening below her.
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Old 01-15-2016, 02:42 PM   #17
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Kelley Bishop

She felt so lost. Since she had died that day in the diner and those men had transformed her into what she was today, she hadn’t been in control of her life. The world had continued to turn and she had been stuck inside this unfamiliar body, disconnected from the world and the events that had unfolded around her.

The dark sky loomed large over her as she skidded to a halt at the edge of the industrial district. The cavernous warehouses and manufacturing facilities lay behind her, and the start of the heart of the city lie ahead. She didn’t know where to begin, where even to start. She had only lived in Metropolis for a few months before the shooting at the diner. Memories of her mother’s face, lying next to her as the two of them slipped away from mortality were burned into her memory. It was one of the only memories of Metropolis she could remember. The rest of her time in the city before the incident was a blur as she was trying to adjust to big-city life from the small rural towns she had grown up in. She needed information, needed to know how the city worked to understand how she was going to survive.

While she had been under military protocols, she hadn’t been in control of her body and the myriad of new things it could do. She had not been in control, but she had been paying attention. She closed her eyes and opened a secure connection with one of the many satellites orbiting overhead that helped to route data across the globe. She saw the news as it was being broken, and had to filter the massive data dump she was receiving. News articles began to flash before her eyes, each story scanned in milliseconds instead of having to be read. It was more of a data download than it was reading the morning paper.

There was a common thread that kept catching her attention: Lex Corp and its President and CEO, Lex Luthor. The police department had been faltering, unable to keep up with the rising waves of crime. Luthor had stepped in and provided them with modern equipment and a more competitive payroll, taking them out of public oversight and responsibility. Immediately, crime rates began to drop. The same could be said about ambulance and fire services as well, each being absorbed by Lex Corp as a small fish is eaten by a larger fish. Crime continued to drop, fires did not spread and were contained more quickly, deaths due to the lack of necessary emergency personnel plummeted. Even as the city began to gain control over the seedy underbelly that threatened to rip it apart from within, there were naysayer s for what Luthor had done. There were those who spoke out: saying what he was doing was creating a monopoly on services that should remain in the public domain; saying that he had made his money by buying up smaller companies and using their ideas and firing their employees; saying that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Kelley didn’t see it like that. She saw a man who was doing what needed to be done to keep the city running. A businessman who was willing to take a loss on some enterprises to make sure that he gains made by his other companies would more than offset them. He was a man protecting an empire, using a rising tide to raise all boats.

She needed to meet him. Maybe he could give her a purpose, a way to atone for the terrible things she had done when she had been under their control. But she knew she would never be able to schedule a meeting with him. Why would the most powerful man in Metropolis want to meet with a nobody, and a dead one at that? She knew she would just have to improvise.

As she slid through the alleyways, she took clothing that would help her blend it. She knew it was stealing, but standing out was something she didn’t want to do right now, especially since she would need to appear normal to meet Luthor. A black, long-sleeved turtleneck from one clothesline; a pair of khaki pants from another; a pair of black knee-high boots from a patio; a pair of elbow-length gloves from a windowsill; a grey scarf carelessly lost behind a bar; a newsboy hat from the front seat of an unlocked car. She almost felt human again once she was dressed, felt she could at least hide the mechanical side of her until she felt the need to reveal it.

The Lex Corp building had security, but nothing that she hadn’t seen before. She had been tasked with breaking into foreign military installations and foreign governmental buildings that didn’t officially exist when she had been their assassin, and each security schematic and alarm system possibility had been stored in her memory core. The guard was easily distracted and the keypad lock on the rear loading dock was child’s play to hack. She slid inside the steel door and hugged the wall, staying out of sight of the small security camera aimed in the door’s general direction. She reached up and pulled the transmission line, cutting the feed. It would probably raise a few eyebrows in the security room, but probably not set off the major alarms since she hadn’t tripped the door sensor. She slinked through the loading docks, staying against the walls, behind crates and concrete pillars, until she saw the door to the mechanical room. Glancing to make sure she hadn’t been noticed, she slipped inside. Climbing up the ductwork was something that was always shown in movies, but ductwork in the real world was too small, flimsy and noisy to climb, The space behind the walls where the ducting ran, however, was perfectly sized for Kelley Bishop. She squeezed herself up into the narrow opening between the finished wall and the steel skeleton of the building and began to climb.

It wasn’t until the fifteenth floor that things began to get tricky.

Her eyes had adjusted to the dim light that filtered in through the smoked glass exterior of the building and she had almost gotten careless. A small glint of red above her right hand caught her attention and she froze. A few flecks of dust were reflecting something red. She blinked and switched her sight into infrared and immediately saw the beam of a laser-detection system above her. There were lasers at varying points throughout the shaft above her, each aimed slightly differently to keep someone from climbing in a straight line. She smiled at the challenge and continued to climb, making sure to avoid each in turn as she neared the top floor. At the top of the shaft, she pulled the ducting away from the vent as quietly as she could and slid out through the knee-level vent.

The office was palatial and took up nearly half of the upper floor. Floor-to-ceiling glass faced out over three sides of the office, giving the massive rosewood desk an unparalleled view of the city. In the distance, nearly twenty blocks away, she could see the iconic rotating globe atop the Daily Planet building. She glanced around the room, not seeing Luthor anywhere in the office.

The unmistakable click of a pistol’s hammer being drawn back made her freeze in her tracks. She hadn’t seen any guards, hadn’t heard any alarms, hadn’t felt the static in the air of a dozen radios cracking to life at once. She stayed still and simply closed her eyes. A small tear welled at the corner of her eye and all she could see through her closed eyes was the face of her mother.

“I guess I’ll be with you soon, Mom,” she whispered.

“I’m impressed,” came a deep and commanding voice from behind her. She recognized it immediately from the news clips but dared not to turn. “You got into the building without tripping the alarms or being picked up by the cameras. You managed to slither all the way up here without breaking any of the lasers. But the one thing you missed were the pressure sensors. And you didn’t trip one of those until the floor beneath this one. I have to give you credit for that.”

She stayed unmoving, not daring to tempt him into pulling the trigger.

“Turn around,” he said, his tone not wavering. “Who sent you?”

She turned slowly, letting her hands drop to her sides smoothly as she turned to face him. She had seen news footage of Lex Luthor, seen photographs of him in the papers, listened to him speak when he had privatized the city’s services. But there was a presence about him that cameras couldn’t capture, an aura of pure confidence and determination. She almost couldn’t find the strength to speak.

“My name is Kelley Bishop,” she said, moving her hands in front of her and bending her right arm at the elbow. The barrel of the gun did not waver, nor did his eyes stray from hers. “And I came to you on my own. No one sent me and I don’t want any trouble…”

His lips tightened and he took a half step forward, letting the barrel of the gun rest against her forehead.

“And why shouldn’t I pull this trigger?” he asked, pressuring the trigger gently. “I’m well within my rights since you are trespassing, Ms. Bishop.”

She closed her eyes again, trying not to lose the reason she came here. She had come to ask him to help her, ask him to find a use for her, ask him to let her atone for her past sins by doing good. Her left hand slid to her wrist and she slid the sleeve of her shirt up to her elbow, exposing the cybernetic form beneath.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said, her voice weak and wavering. “I’ve done so many terrible things, I just don’t know if I can keep…I don’t want to…I…” The tears again welled in her eyes and she felt the barrel slide from her skin and heard the hammer cock back to its safe position.

“Come here, child,” he said, the sternness from his voice gone. He motioned to a chair on the visiting side of the desk and he made his way behind it and sat as well. “Now, tell me what’s gotten you so upset.”

She talked for nearly an hour. The shooting at the diner, waking up in a body she didn’t know. The power she was given and the horrors that they had made her do. She talked and talked and he simply listened. Never once did he interrupt her or take his eyes off her. He simply listened and occasionally offered a tissue when her story became difficult. When she finished, he came around the desk and knelt next to her.

“I understand that you want to make amends for what you’ve done and I can respect that. It is a noble cause,” he said. “Stay here tonight and rest, and tomorrow we’ll find a place for you at Lex Corp,” he continued, leading her across the office into one of the suites that took up the remainder of the floor. She sat on the bed and laid down as he left her, turning off the lights as he closed the door. She drifted off almost immediately. She did not hear Luthor typing rapidly at his computer in the office, nor know of the scanners that were electronically examining every inch of her metallic structure. She didn’t feel anything as she slept.

The morning came and Luthor was pleasant, a small smile on his face as she came out of the suite without the cover of clothing. Her metallic form now on full display. There was no need to hide from the man who had given her shelter and taken her in. The small-town Missouri girl had always been accused of being too trusting, but she felt no threat from Luthor. Almost oppositely, she felt that he was more interested in her this morning than he had been the night before.

“Now, Ms. Bishop,” he said, again sitting behind the massive desk, “I think we can find a place for you here at Lex Corp, but I want to understand how you work so I can find the best fit for your…talents.” He spoke of the police force, and the special unit tasked with the worst of the criminals. The sort of criminals and villains that Superman used to deal with before he disappeared. He felt she would be a good fit, but he wanted her to undergo some tests down in the lab.

The testing process was not difficult, and she often found herself chatting idly with the technicians as they set up various tests for her to go through: targets to shoot, computer systems to hack into, weights to lift, and obstacle courses to run through.

She felt a twinge of hesitation at opening up her weapons again, not quite sure she wanted to go back down this path. But Lex reassured her that she wasn’t under anyone’s control, not like before, and that he was only having her do the tests to make sure he could keep her safe and not get her into anything over her head. He was always there, reassuring her, cheering her on, and always very interested in the test results and the reports the technicians were generating. Some days, he came down to the lab level, other days his voice would come through the overhead speakers as he watched from his penthouse apartment.

Kelley lived in the Lex Corp tower, but never again stayed in the palatial suite on the penthouse floor. Instead, she stayed in one of the more modest apartments on the middle floors of the building, sandwiched between the high-dollar office suites above and the more average R&D space below. The apartment came stocked with clothing and had a modest view down one of the side streets. A technician delivered her pay, in cash, every Friday. Luthor had insisted on the cash payment to keep her “off the books and safer from prying eyes.” She agreed, not wanting any government agency to ever know where she was again. She kept mostly to the tower and rarely ventured out into the city, the memories of the diner popping into her head with little provocation.

She awoke late one night, feeling a slight shudder under her. The room was dark, but the glints from flashing police lights could be seen coming from the street below. Again came the shudder, almost like the small tremor quakes she had once felt visiting a childhood friend in California. She rose and pulled on the uniform she had been wearing from her training sessions. It was a simple black neoprene material outfit that the technicians had insisted on as it acted as an insulator for their instruments or some other such nonsense. Kelley didn’t mind wearing it as it hid much of her metallic form. The black material stretched well and let her move without hindrance. Cut off at the elbows and just below the knee, she also thought it looked quite fashionable.

Just as she opened the door into the hallway, the lights flickered and the red bulbs of the emergency lighting flickered on, bathing the hallway in an ominous glow. She moved quickly down to the elevators and pressed the “down” button. The light did not illuminate and she heard none of the familiar creaking of the elevator machinery behind the wall. She stepped over and reached for the stairwell door just as it swung open and Lex Luthor burst into the hallway.

“Kelley, we need you,” he said, barely a wisp out of breath even though he had just run down nearly 20 flights of stairs. “There’s a…concerning development on the roof that I think you’d be perfect to deal with.”

She stepped back.

“What do you mean, Lex?” she asked, almost not wanting to hear the words come out of his mouth.

“Everything you were built for,” he said, “and all that programming and training you’ve had can help. There’s someone up there with powers. I don’t know how strong, but the police are outclassed and need your help before anyone gets hurt.”

He had pulled on the right heartstring. She nodded to him and moved into the stairwell, her legs beginning to pump as she ascended the tower taking three stairs with each bound. The stairwell went past the opening to Luthor’s office and her eyes wandered in as she passed. Did he ever leave his office other than for public appearances and speeches, she wondered. She shot past the open door and continued up the stairwell until she burst out onto the roof.

The city was laid out in front of her. Buildings, lighted windows, far-off sirens and the low hum of the bustle that never stopped. But one thing was out of place. There was a man hovering at the edge of the tower, his back to her, naked and looking down at the street below. A small fire burned on the rooftop of the neighboring building.

“Hey!” she called, not really knowing what to say or what to expect. “Um, what are you doing up here?”

He turned to face her, still hovering over the edge of the building over the nothingness. His eyes were cold and hard as he looked to her.

“Who are y…” she bagan before he leaned forward and accelerated at her. She had never seen someone move that fast and he was still accelerating. Her body reacted almost before she formed the thought, the built-in coding protecting her, shifting her weight to her back foot and pivoting, allowing him to shoot past her. Her eyes followed him as he turned, ripping the stairwell door off its hinges as made the tight arc that would lead him back to her.

He wasn’t going to listen. He wasn’t going to be reasoned with. And he seemed keen on attacking her. She had no choice. Her arm shot up to shoulder level and her hand seemed to split and fold away, revealing the barrel of the plasma cannon. The blue light built inside the reactor chamber quickly and a bolt of azure flashed at the nude man’s chest as he closed the distance between them. He slowed, but only for a moment before dropping his gaze again and charging. She fired twice more, the beams not seeming to affect him as he closed the distance again. His fist shot out and she was barely able to dodge. She felt the weight of him pass, a weight she did not want to feel trying to crush her. He spun again, digging his foot into the concrete stairwell enclosure and powering off, his fist cocked back against his shoulder.

She leapt neatly over him, allowing him to pass underneath her and begin another arc. As she landed back on the rooftop, she dropped to a knee and the servos in her legs tightened down and retractable pitons shot down into the concrete rooftop, locking her into place. The cannon charged again, and she reset the focus to a much tighter beam and a much higher output. She didn’t want to kill him, but couldn’t let him continue his rampage. She drew a line on him as he turned over the edge of the building and fired.

The beam struck him solidly in the stomach and he lurched backwards and over the edge of the tower, falling. She retracted the pitons and stood, rushing to the edge as he smashed into the pavement below. She could feel the tremor from the impact resonate up through the building. The police below were shouting and firing as he rose in the crater. Kelley stepped onto the parapet, leaning her arm over the edge and preparing to fire once more when a wave of blue swept over him and slammed him back again. She looked and saw another form on the street, one she had heard of but never seen in person.

Aquaman.

She powered down the cannon and her hand reconfigured over the warm barrel. He could take it from here. She knew a hero when she saw one, and he had the confidence and swagger only those born with greatness can ever have. She wasn’t even on the same field as him, but merely a spectator to one far above herself in talent and courage. She turned and headed for the stairwell, only then noticing the six red lights from the cameras mounted on the rooftop were all focused on her. As she walked, all of the lenses continued to focus on her, capturing her every move.

The door was gone and she made her way back down the stairs quietly, wondering how often she would have to deal with incidents like this. As she reached the penthouse level, her eyes again went into Luthor’s office. He was seated behind his desk, the blue glow of the computer screen obvious on his face. He saw her, snapped closed the laptop, and rose to address her.

“Fine work you did up there, Kelley,” he said, his hand tight on the laptop cover. “Magnificent. Why don’t you take the next couple of days off from testing and go out and enjoy yourself. You’ve earned it.”

She nodded and thanked him before making her way back to her apartment. Something about her vision of him had changed. She had a squeamish feeling in the pit of her stomach that something was wrong, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Was it the fact that she had gone out tonight to face someone only a hero should have been able to take down and live, or was it the cameras and Luthor in his office?

Sleep did not come easy to her that night, and when it did, it was haunted by memories of the military program and all the things she kept trying to forget.
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Old 01-23-2016, 10:20 PM   #18
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Where the hell's all the sanity at? (Rose/M'gann)

A week had passed.

Kind of a lot had happened since then.

Lance and Alix had had a seriously bad argument--

--then Lance had tried to use smartskin on himself to impress his online girlfriend--

--except it had gone wrong, bonded too deep or something, suffocated him under the weight of the smartskin's ferrodermis. But as Alix had tried to revive him, the smartskin had spawned onto her skin, too... successfully.

Lance had died, had died choking inside his own foolhardy prison on some ER operating table, broken saws and drills and scalpels laying around him and doctors freaking out.

Alix had survived, this gorgeous red-haired steel-skinned beauty, except that was nothing she'd ever wanted. Her world turned upside-down, the autistic kids she worked with thought she was a robot, she discovered Lance's emails and his secret life--

--it had been a hard week, with Rose trying to help her friend pick up the pieces.

Alix was asleep on Rose's couch, the frame bowing slightly under the weight of her-- she'd been crashing here the last few nights to save on having to be in that weird, empty bedroom with the same air her cheating husband had breathed.

And Rose sat on the floor next to the couch, idly channel-surfing with the TV turned down and the closed-captioning on so she didn't wake Alex. (Rose was sleeping less and less these days. Too many dreams. Always there were dreams.)

As she flicked past GBS, reporter Cat Grant looked more than a little panicked, and Rose blinked, channel-surfed back to the news affiliate.

Rose's eyes widened.

Metropolis was burning.

********

Rose's transformation was effortless, instantaneous-- too easy--

--she was pale, powerful--

--she soared through the air with the power of her mind, lifting herself the way she could levitate other objects, could bat gunmen away with a thought--

Even miles away from The Big Apricot, Rose's mind could hear screams and panic from dozens of Metropolitans-- she tried to call out to them to be calm and brave, but she wasn't sure how-- and she could feel the fire in their minds, the burning fire, like the fire from her dreams, the heat of it the thought of it made her stagger in mid-air--

--but as the klicks rushed by below her, Rose sensed a single, focused mind, directly ahead. Thoughts as steely as they were wary.

They were like 300 feet up and yet this gorgeous blonde lady levitated--

--of course, Rose was one to talk.

Quote:
Originally Posted by Varshanka View Post
A hundred meters above the surface she floated, watching what was happening below her.
Throwing on mental brakes-- autotelekinetic reverse thrust-- Rose drew to a stop in mid-air about ten feet from the blonde woman, red eyes wide, struggling to remain composed, even a hundred meters above the nearest fire, it was still too close for comfort.

"Who are you? Are you a superhero? Can you help them?"

She demanded answers, but it was clear from the look on her face she was as lost as anyone.
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Old 01-24-2016, 06:50 PM   #19
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Should I?

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Throwing on mental brakes-- autotelekinetic reverse thrust-- Rose drew to a stop in mid-air about ten feet from the blonde woman, red eyes wide, struggling to remain composed, even a hundred meters above the nearest fire, it was still too close for comfort.

"Who are you? Are you a superhero? Can you help them?"

She demanded answers, but it was clear from the look on her face she was as lost as anyone.
Turning her head Karan looked at the newcomer. “Should I help? They kill. They steal. They hate. They die. They’ll all die someday. Every. Last. One. Of. Them. Why should I save them when they’ll die anyway. Young or old they will die.”

Turning her head she looked at the girls grave, miles and miles away, half a country and she found it. “Even after I saved her she died.”

Looking back at the newcomer, the girl with the pearly white skin and the long red hair, she asked a question. “Should I help them?”
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Old 01-25-2016, 09:53 PM   #20
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Oh, my eyes are seein’ red. Double vision from the blood we’ve shed. (Rose/M'gann)

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Turning her head Karan looked at the newcomer. “Should I help? They kill. They steal. They hate. They die. They’ll all die someday. Every. Last. One. Of. Them. Why should I save them when they’ll die anyway. Young or old they will die.”

Turning her head she looked at the girls grave, miles and miles away, half a country and she found it. “Even after I saved her she died.”

Looking back at the newcomer, the girl with the pearly white skin and the long red hair, she asked a question. “Should I help them?”
At the flying blonde woman's words, Rose's heart ached in her chest.

Just ached, not even metaphorically, there was an agony at the center of her thorax.

Like she was rejecting a transplant.

She actually bobbed backwards and clutched at that heart for a moment, it was so sudden and overwhelming-- and this on top of the crawling, scalding discomfort from the near-distant fire.

And as her heart ached her brain remembered sitting with Zelda as Zelda's body broke down in hospice care, ravaged by AIDS.

Holding Alix' metal hand as she cried over her stupid, selfish, pig-headed dead husband.

And then.

And then that ache at the core of her flushed out into her bloodstream and she narrowed her red red eyes.

"Hell yes you should."

"Of course they're gonna die, they're going to age to dust in five minutes, they're fruit flies. But if five minutes is all they get we're damn sure going to make sure they get it, okay? If all they have left is a few more clock-ticks and a few more heartbeats, we'll buy them that time. Because this world is a mess, and the only way they're going to care enough to fix it is a) if someone gives them hope, and b) if someone helps them live long enough to do something about it. All right?"


She wouldn't process 'till much later that in her passion and fervor she'd already started talking like she wasn't one of the "fruit flies."

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Old 01-26-2016, 02:20 PM   #21
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Silver Bullet

His bedroom was quiet but for the murmur of the television set across from his bed situated on top of a four-drawer dresser. Its small, 30-inch screen flashed whites and blues all over his room, while he slept snug beneath layers of comforter.

This is Catherine Grant with GBS news taking us to the firestorm raging in Metropolis…

It hadn’t been the news that woke him up. He had to pee. The dark quilt rolled like a wave until a head popped out at the head of the bed. A black beanie was pushed back on his scalp and Hiro’s tired eyes groggily cracked open. For a moment, he laid there too comfortable to get up and squinted over at the TV, his eyes having not adjusted yet. With a soft sigh, Hiro threw back his blankets and rose out of bed. A few beads of tears welled at the corners of his eyes as he exhaled a large yawn on his way to the bathroom. When he reached it, he flicked on the light, parted his boxers, and carried on with his business.

Aquaman has just appeared on the scene…

Aquaman? Hiro thought. He glanced over at the TV.

The city is still on fire and many are being evacuated.

He was starting to feel more awake. Concluding his business with a flush, he went over to the sink to quickly wash his hands and then went over to stand before the TV.

“Metropolis? That’s far away,” Hiro muttered as he stepped back to sit on his bed. He rubbed at the crust in his eyes and started thinking about class. He had an 8 o’clock in a few hours. He glanced over at the digital clock: 3:10. Could he make it out there in time? He then remembered that he destroyed his suit last week.

Shit, he cursed. Hiro sulked. “This could have been my big break to get my name out there.”

He continued to watch the news with a pout. If Aquaman was going to be busy with the super powered streaker (they had something in common), then who was going to put out the fire? His hands were going to be too full.

I got to do something. Maybe I can find some clothes somewhere when I get there? I just can't sit here. Would I even make it there in time?

There were so many thoughts clustering in his brain with no clear solution but to do it. Like Nike, “Just do it!”

Rising from his bed with a determined scowl, Hiro walked briskly for his dorm door and barged out into the hallway. He was wearing nothing but his neon-green and black boxers and beanie, and didn't give a fuck!

I can get there. I just need to go faster, he thought.

Standing outside his dorm room, Hiro glanced about the open campus, and as expected, almost everyone was in bed this time of night. He started jogging to warm up his muscles. He jogged all the way off campus and when he felt warmed up, he picked up his pace. Buildings, parked cars, and the street beneath his bare feet became a blur. He went faster and faster until it seemed as though he were in a tunnel.

Faster, come on! he mentally pushed himself. He thought about the fire and those people caught up in the chaos. He could save them. He could get there in time. Baring his teeth, Hiro growled gruffly as he pushed himself to his limit. The path before him began to flicker with snakes of electricity. It almost seemed like a dream or something from the twilight zone or some sci-fi movie. Entering hyperspeed! There was a bright light and what seemed like empty space around him. Where was he going? He knew the answer to that question but with how the world was looking, he didn't know anymore. The ropes of lightning coiled about his body, wrapping him like glowing ribbons until a white and gray suit flashed onto his body. The suit had been so light that Hiro didn't even notice it. His eyes squinted as the electricity touched his face, parting around it like a breeze. An eye mask manifested next, and not even a second later, the light disappeared.

A sudden impulse caused him to stop, and the world came racing up to meet him. He first noticed that he was in a city, and then followed the pungent scent of fire. Hiro turned around in awe to see the flames. He was in Metropolis!? So soon!?

“Somebody pinch me,” Hiro thought aloud in disbelief. Excitement soon caught up to him and he exclaimed, “What? This can’t be real. I am...wow...I am really fast.”

There were a few cops staring blankly at the masked hero who was jumping around and talking to himself.

“Hey…” one of the cops called with a tone of uncertainty. He didn't recognize the guy. Now a days there were so many suit-wearing lunatics running around that he couldn't keep track of then all. “Are you...one of those super heroes or something?”

Hiro immediately stopped his celebratory dancing to peer just as confused at the cops.

“.............yeah,” Hiro said slowly before he slapped himself in the forehead. “Wait, I mean yes! Of course! I’m here to help.”

Hiro then jogged over to one of the burning buildings. He didn't know if he could really do this, but he was willing to try. He was so excited! This was his chance to experiment with his powers.

I just need to uh…, he brainfarted for a second and scratched his head. Burning building...and there wasn't water anywhere.

The cops watched unamused.

“This guy's a joke,” one of them muttered.

His partner nodded.

Hiro glanced over at the cops nervously.

Shit. I’m looking really stupid right now, he thought. Think, Hiro think! You’re an engineer at Berkeley! You’re smart! Fire! What else can put it out?

Sand. No. He stared at the flames and felt the breeze the heat was creating.

Air… he mused. “AIR!”

The one cop arched a brow.

I can make a wind tunnel...a fire twister.

Hiro smirked confidently over at the cops and informed, “Prepare to see something cool.”

The speedster threw his body into a whirl and the sucking current had not only started pulling the flames from the building, but it started to unintentionally pull everything else toward it and send it on a burning funnel into the air. The fire tunnel appeared like a pillar over the city, ejecting burning cars, signs, and other debris all over. The cops were forced to flee into a nearby alley to avoid being sucked up in the tornado. It was a good idea, but it was reckless. A rookie mistake.

Last edited by HotCider : 01-26-2016 at 02:38 PM.
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Old 01-26-2016, 11:13 PM   #22
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"Hell yes you should."

"Of course they're gonna die, they're going to age to dust in five minutes, they're fruit flies. But if five minutes is all they get we're damn sure going to make sure they get it, okay? If all they have left is a few more clock-ticks and a few more heartbeats, we'll buy them that time. Because this world is a mess, and the only way they're going to care enough to fix it is a) if someone gives them hope, and b) if someone helps them live long enough to do something about it. All right?"
Looking down, Karan thought they looked more like ants, big ants. Especially the way they scurried around without order. Pure chaos. Anarchy. Looking over at the cute redhead that needed a serious case of a suntan. “Very well, then help.”

Air screamed as she darted north. Not to the north pole, but straight up. She wasn’t supposed to do things like this, but she’d broken a lot of rules lately.

Probably be breaking a lot more soon enough. The world of man was corrupting her and she knew it. Ever since she’d left the island she’d gotten more reckless than ever. She’d been reckless, forward, outgoing before. But then she’d left the island and she’d gotten careless. It was time to rein in and get control.

Punching upwards she climbed higher and higher, a speeding rocket until gravity stopped pulling on her, and she floated.

Time stopped as she drifted.

The world drifted underneath her. Slowly rotating as she inhaled. But it was air she was inhaling. It was cold. The cold dark nothingness of a vacuum.

And she dropped, a mile down she twisted over and dove. She used the gravity and pushed. Teeth ground in anger and frustration. The girl had died. It had been futile.

Nevermore.

A geyser exploded upwards from where she sliced downwards. When she touched the bottom she exhaled. Water crystalized instantly from the cold. Clenching her hands she grabbed and straightened her legs. Frozen rock cracked as she broke it free. And she pushed. Lifting ice and rock free from the water depths. She pushed against the weight of the world. The weight of her pain. Her frustration.

She pushed upwards until she could breathe the air. She pushed until water ran from the glacier she was lifting. Her arms shook with the strain. She’d never been meant for this. She wasn’t a hero. She was just a stupid reckless girl. More people would die, because she was foolish.

More would die. But if she could save just one…

The block of ice and rock floated closer and closer, several hundred feet up. And it moved over the worst fires. Rage boiled in her for the girl she’d failed to save, for the people she couldn’t save.

Beams of fire and rage lanced from her eyes, melting the glacier faster than normal heat could melt it. She screamed in rage. She screamed in pain.

It rained. Without a cloud in the sky it rained on the fires.

From a glacier held by a skinny girl with blonde hair and blue eyes.

And if some of those drops of water held just a little more water, and fell from cheeks instead of a glacier, then no one would notice.
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Old 01-27-2016, 09:50 AM   #23
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Nightwing was a bit frustrated with the evening’s lack of crime in Hell’s Kitchen. Maybe the syndicates were getting the message, but he doubted that, that there was some willing to take the fight to them in the old neighborhood. He was about to make his way back home when his built in scanner picked up the action in Metropolis. It would take him about half an hour to swing over there, but he had a faster ride.

Within ten minutes Nightwing was flying over the city skyline of Metropolis. He was using one of the many prototype aircrafts that his father had built during his time as Batman. This particular rotary aircraft had no name, just a long designation. It was one of the vehicles that he had borrowed when he left Gotham for New York. It was fast, maneuverable, and more importantly a fully loaded with weapons that might be useful.

He had been monitoring the whole situation during his trip. He knew that Aquaman, not the original, was on the scene fighting some super powered naked man. There were buildings that were being set ablaze, but what really got his attention was the girl that was carrying what looked like a glacier in her hands. He zoomed the external cameras on her to see if he could get her identity. She was no one he knew, however she wore an insignia similar to that of Wonder Woman. But what she did next was something that no Amazon had ever been able to do. The glacier was melting and making it rain hard enough that it seemed to start affecting the fires. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a hopeless case as he originally thought.
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Old 01-27-2016, 09:37 PM   #24
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Come on, come on, put your hands into the fire. (Rose/M'gann)

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Looking down, Karan thought they looked more like ants, big ants. Especially the way they scurried around without order. Pure chaos. Anarchy. Looking over at the cute redhead that needed a serious case of a suntan. “Very well, then help.”

Air screamed as she darted north.
(One day, if she lived long enough, Rose's eyes would become Martian enough-- M'gann enough --that she would be able to watch Karan fly at her topmost velocity without batting an eye.

But for now, one moment Rose and Karan were levitating together three football fields above The Big Apricot-- and then Karan, whoever she was, was gone, and Rose's cape and ponytail were billowing in a gale-force slipstream.)

"Fine," Rose harrumphed to the empty air. "I will."

And then she turned to do just that-- not that she knew what she was even going to do--

--but then things got complicated. Because of course they did.

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Originally Posted by HotCider View Post
Hiro smirked confidently over at the cops and informed, “Prepare to see something cool.”

The speedster threw his body into a whirl and the sucking current had not only started pulling the flames from the building, but it started to unintentionally pull everything else toward it and send it on a burning funnel into the air. The fire tunnel appeared like a pillar over the city, ejecting burning cars, signs, and other debris all over. The cops were forced to flee into a nearby alley to avoid being sucked up in the tornado. It was a good idea, but it was reckless. A rookie mistake.
It was like something out of The Bible, or a Edgar Rice Burroughs tale--

--it lit up the night, swirling upwards with a rush of displaced air, there above the city somewhere between Bakerline and New Troy, a whirlwind of flame--

--like a backdraft right out of Hell--

--she threw her arms in front of her face to shield herself but it was like trying to stop a tidal wave with rice-paper--

--Rose's entire nervous system screamed--

--her brain lit up with memories that couldn't have been hers, half-remembered nightmares, pyrokinetic genocide--

--it wasn't just pain, she was scared of fire like kids and cavemen were scared of the dark, this primal living phobic demon thing--

--she was scared of fire like fire was Fear Itself and it made her heart race till it wanted to pop in her chest and made her brain howl until it was all just hoarse white noise--

--her cape ignited--

--she fell from the sky like the fabled Morningstar, her skin sizzling and a contrail coruscating behind her, her strangled agonized cry dopplering with her flight--

--she managed to open scorched eyes to find the wide green of Centennial Park yawning beneath her, shoved hard with what was left of her mind, managed to angle up, just barely, just barely--

--she bounced off of the shoulder of the statue of Waldo Glenmorgan and then skipped like a stone across the surface of the Centennial Park Reservoir, her whole body shuddering and threatening to shatter every time she hit that surface tension like concrete--

--then she sank beneath the water, a bubble escaping her lips as her blistered flesh extinguished in the cool liquid.

She sank a little deeper, drifted down past a bemused school of fish, waiting for oblivion to claim her-- again?

She wondered if she would dream this time. Another Dream before dying.

Except after a moment, her subconscious reasserted itself, not yet, and her body began to heal. Bit by bit. Seared skin smoothed out-- bubbling burns rippled away-- she was shapeshifting her body back together.

As she did so, gills opened in the sides of her throat, and oxygen flooded back into her system, her red red eyes fluttering back open.

Oh.

Oh God.

Fire bad.

Fire so bad.


After a moment of reorientation, she found the surface, and emerged from it slowly, cautiously--

--it was raining.

Somewhere, high above, she could she a massive ice chunk getting thawed out in a hurry, a bright saffron-gold-white light blasting it to liquid--

--and the falling rain was making fires all over the city think second thoughts, stutter, back up a step. Including the fire-whirlwind in the sky, causing it to flicker like a candle in a car wash.

"Okay," Rose mumbled, still trembling like a leaf from the fear and the pain.

"I'm-- I'm okay now. I'm still-- I'm okay now."

She tried to pep talk herself. She wasn't listening to herself. She kept trying.

"I need to get back in there. People still hurting."

"I just need-- a minute--"


But then some kind of craft soared overhead like a cross between a stealth fighter and a tank, and Rose narrowed her red red eyes.

"...okay, now what?"

Last edited by ChasNicollette : 02-11-2016 at 05:26 PM.
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Old 02-04-2016, 10:46 PM   #25
Varshanka
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Save me...

To much power. To little control.

Rash. Chaotic. Uncontrolled. Impulsive.


Reckless.


The weight of the glacier she carried weighed on her.

The gravity of the planet pulled on her.

On the island she’d never had to push herself to the limit and past it. But she’d pushed herself this time. She’d screamed at the gods in defiance and they laughed as she failed.

At first she started losing altitude. Then the beams from her eyes began to fade. Then the exhaustion hit. The overwhelming weight of failure sinking in as the last vestiges of strength faded and she collapsed.

But one didn’t simply collapse when you carried a mountain. Her limp body was pushed towards the hard solid surface of Mother Gaia by a glistening mountain of ice and rock. Faster and faster, thankfully it wasn’t high enough to reach terminal velocity. Thankfully a massive amount had already been melted off.

Unfortunately, Wondergirl was in no condition to do anything as the ground shook with the impact. When several tons of rock met a planet, things get squished. Even people that could, or should, walk as Goddesses (Gods) among mortal man.
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