Justice League: The New Wave (IC)

[Lunaramblings]

Enter Sandman

::::New York. 1 Week Ago::::

An old battered tenement building stands in a rundown neighborhood. Forgotten. Ignored. It stands surrounded by burnt out husks of similar buildings. The whole area fetid and rotten. Light shines from the doorway. The only light anywhere nearby. The Sandman stands in the shadows of the tenement. He looks up to the building. Shaking his head. He walks forward into the faint light spilling from the door.

As he enters the building, it twists and warps around him. Suddenly he no longer stands in the entrance hall. He finds himself standing in a darkened loft. Lit only by candles. The walls are smeared with blood. As he looks closer he finds that the wallpaper is not paper, but flesh. Flesh marked with deep terrible scars. The Sandman moves forward again. As he moves through the flat he sees countless bodies. Mostly women. Posed in various positions. He reaches a door, the only one he has seen in the open flat. As he reaches for the door, again the world shifts around him.

No longer in the flat, he finds himself instead in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse of some sort. He sees before him a tall, muscular man. And before him a young girl, no more than 20, kneels. Bound and gagged, she is crying. Her flesh has been cut along her arms and chest. Shallow cuts, designued to hurt not kill. The man walks behind the girl. Smiling, darkness dancing in his eyes. He grabs the girl by her chin, forcing his knee into her back he wrenches her head upward. Exposing the soft flesh of her neck to the hunger of his blade. The blade bites into her flesh. Tearing and opening her neck from end to end, as flesh tears blood gushes down over her nude and carved flesh. Her head bobs grimly in the man's hand. A look of pleasure and triumph on his face.

The Sandman hears a voice as the world spins and twists again.

"I have shown you what is coming. Save her. Stop him. Now it is time to Wake."

Wesley Edmund Dodds wakes with a scream. Not of fear. But of Rage. Rage for the things he has been shown. Rage for the monster he now hunts. As he staggers from the bed, his door bursts open. His only ally in his Hunt in the Waking World, Dian stands silhouetted by dim light.

"Hey Sandy.... You okay? Your scream startled me. I am guessing you had another... um... vision?"

Wesley looks at Dian and can't help but smile. He reminds him so much of her grandmother. She wears the same expression that he had seen her grandmother wear on many occasions when he and the Real Wesley Dodds had gone on a job. A mixture of love, concern. Wesley moves to the desk in smallish room and takes a drink of the bourbon sitting in a tumbler there.

"Yeah. I thought he had shown me horrors as bad as I could see. But this was... different. There were so many victims. It was like a whole city block had been destroyed. Gutted of life by this monster."

"Monster... so is he one of the things that escaped?"

"No. Worse. He's human. I can except the carnage caused by nightmares and monsters. But I will never understand the hatred and the wiling massacre that lives in a man's heart. Dian... he didn't just want to kill... it's like he thrived on it. Fed on it. Like it was his very reason for being. But worse of all is the fact that he is nothing more than a man. How can we be capable of such darkness..."

Dian walks over and places a hand on Wes's shoulder.

Softly she hugs him. Not the hug of a lover, but of love nonetheless.

"Listen Sandy, I will never understand everything you have been through. Scientifically, it makes no sense. But I will always be here for you. I can't imagine the burden that you carry. And honestly, I can't help you with understanding the darkness we, as a species are capable of. But, what I can tell you is that for every darkness there is light. Sandy, you were sent back to be that light. You have amazing gifts. Now, let's get to work on finding this bastard."

 

[ChasNicollette]

The Epilogue is Prologue.

"With the shield down we can contact HQ now. Luthor will have his people out here in a matter of hours to begin the cleanup and damage control." He replied. He pulled out his communicator and did just that.

When he was done talking with HQ he once again spoke to the team. "Wonder Girl, Velocity... I'd like you and anyone that is able to go around and perform a search and recovery. I don't want to leave any civilians in dangerous positions while we wait for the clean up to show up."

It wouldn't take hours.

The DEO and military and other agencies had converged on the dome-- while they were unable to penetrate it by conventional means, they wanted to be ready to go when the dome came down... ready to move in.

And down the dome came.

All the population had been cleared out already. Well. Those that had survived the magical abattoir that been the Sports Complex, now a memory. Between Kiz' wormhole and the speed of Leaguers and Rogues, the civilians of The Gem Cities had been ushered out of the dome-- they had been located via satellite and were already receiving medical care and counseling, though the going was slow for a crowd of that magnitude.

Luthor was able to provide a sitrep, however.

The fact that Kobra's forces were quashed-- vaporized throughout the continent, from coast to coast, from Hudson Bay to The Yucatan Peninsula. Between the fusion of magic and science, and the destructive efforts of The League to uproot Kobra himself and the architecture of his chaos, not to mention the earlier defeat of The Bestowed, Kobra's foot soldiers had been laid to waste.

Now all that was left amidst the settling of the dust was to calculate the damages, minister to the wounded, and count the dead.

Oh, so many damages. Oh, so many wounded. Oh, so many dead.

But how much worse it could have been.

Any search and rescue efforts in The Gem Cities might perhaps locate a bewildered blond professor from Smallville with no way to get home, and maybe fleeting glimpses of Rogues that had gone into hiding, slinking off to reclaim their territory.

Perhaps disturbingly, when a DEO Agent went to retrieve the mason jars in which Lady Clayface had been canned by Velocity, they would find them empty. As if she had never been there.

 

[ChasNicollette]

When a day suits best for carrying the corpse away.

“Anything else we need to resolve? Or are we safe to return to headquarters?”

DEO and military choppers closed in overhead, landing where they could and dropping Agents and soldiers on lines where they couldn't.

A DEO Agent named Jaime Sommers took what custody she could of Kobra's vivisected corpse, and seemed to display a preternatural awareness of where Kobra's henchfolks' bodies were buried, pointing out where crews should start digging first.

Even the crystalline fragments of Lady Eve, she could spot them scattered about just by narrowing her eyes and squinting.

She also noted-- somehow --some degree of residual gamma radiation from Elemental Woman's uranium form, though she hadn't been there for long, and a DEO tech with a fleet of prototypical remote-controlled nanites did her best to scrub the remaining contamination.

As all of this was going on, The Ebon Glider frowned softly.

Rubbing her arm as she levitated and looked around. "Guys? Seriously, what happened to Kiz?"

Limping up to her, half-using The Champion's Trident as a walking stick, a weary Ruby Reed smiled achingly. "Apparently he did a thing? The Martian told me. And vanished again, Cold and Heat went with him. I think he might have vanquished a very scary beastie, tipped the scales in our favor. I'm sure he'll pop back any second-- like after the stadium?"

"Where?" Lisa wondered simply, looking more worried now.

And-- checking with Martian Manhuntress to see if this was right-- Ruby indicated the spot that Kiz had been standing when he'd been binding The Spectrumonster.

Lisa knelt on the spot, and stared a thousand yard stare that went on from there into infinity, her tendrils stretching out around her... probing.

"...no. This time he's not coming back. But that's okay. I'm gonna go after him. After them."

"Sheila, you can't be serious," Ruby protested. "That bloke pulled insane shit-- yeah, he called me out unfairly about my Dial, but I think-- I think I would've liked him eventually-- but if he's gone down some damn rabbit hole even he can't claw his way back from, you really want to go spelunking after?"

"It's okay," Glider promised, eerily serene. "...I get it now. Kind of. What he was saying."

She tilted her head. "Origami."

And then she... unfolded. With the kind of geometry of a tesseract, a hypercube... the shortest distance between two points no longer being a straight line...

...the four-, almost five-dimensional surrealism unfurled in front of Ruby and it was only because she had had to transition those dimensions many times as Dialed heroes that she didn't dry heave at the equilibrium-inverting sight of it...

...and then, slithering into a gap between molecules, vibrating to the beat of a different plane...

...Glider went away.

Hotline stared for a moment, and then clawed her hand through her undercut coif. "'Origami?' ...I'm too old for this shit."

 

[Lunaramblings]

::::New York. 1 Day Later.::::

Wes and Dian were sitting in the basement of the brownstone. It was only a few months ago that Wes woke up here. Now it was the hub from which they followed his prophetic dreams.

"Ok... so, what do we know?"

Dian hits a key on her laptop and a projector casts images on the wall opposite them.

"Ok. So you said that it was some type of warehouse or something? Not like there is a shortage of those in the Sister Cities. But I got thinking. He would need privacy right? So I went through and eliminated any abandoned warehouses that were too close to active sites. Which narrowed it done a bit."

"Ok. Good point. So lets keep going with that. He would need privacy but he would want it close to wherever he hunts. He takes his victims alive. That means he has transportation. But still, the further he has to take them the greater the risk."

"Ok. So if I cut out the locations that are too far from the areas where he could hunt, that might help. We need to know more about who the girl was."

"I drew her face. But we can't wander the city just hoping to get lucky." Wes pulls out a sketch of the girl and hands it to Dian.

Dian grins as she accepts the drawing. "A lot has changed since you went under Sandy. I think I can run this sketch through a facial recognition program. Your a good artist by the way." Dian takes the sketch and goes over to her desk in the corner where she starts the process of running the image through her scanner and starting the search.

Give it a couple hours and hopefully we'll get a response."

Wes stands and shakes his head.

"Ok. You do that. I need to go out. I can't just sit here. Call me when you get something."

Wes doesn't wait for a response. There is swirl of sand as he sinks through the concrete of the basement floor and disappears.

Dian pouts slightly as she looks at the now empty room.

"Don't know if I am ever going to get used to that..."

The Sandman emerges from the earth several miles away. No longer in the guise of Wesley Edmund Dodds, but wearing the mantle of the Dream Hunter. The Sandman moves through the night. Searching several of the warehouses that were on the list.

And so the next three days would go. Every night Wes would dream of the man with the knife. Wes would be forced to watch the horrible murders the man committed. But never again in that warehouse. Some how Wes knew that these were the past. And that the future in which that young girl dies was coming all too soon.

It would be yet two more days. Two agonizing days where no further visions came. Then, as if a dam had been demolished, images came in a rush. A deluge of death and macabre scene after scene. But these were not as veiled as the previous visions. As he watched the man killing yet another victim he finally saw him clearly enough to recognize the monster before him. No longer hidden by the metaphor of nightmare, but laid bare before the eyes of The Sandman. With a sudden stroke of clarity he knew who he was hunting. He knew him because he had heard the name in a thousand nightmares during his time in dream. He knew him because he had seen the man on the news just a couple weeks prior. An escapee from Arkham. A madman. The Sandman now had his target.

Just as he was having this revelation, Dian woke him. She looked sickly pale in the moonlight shining in. The look on her face one of deep worry.

"Sandy.... I got a hit. Finally. Missing person report was just filed. Girl was working at a club in Alphabet City. She went missing the night you had that first dream. Sandy.... what if we're too late?"

Wes shot to his feet. Startling Dian. As he did he conjured the mantle of the Dream Hunter once more. Alphabet City... it wasn't a warehouse... it was tenement. The Sandman turned to face Dian once more.

"I know where to go. There's still time. It was never a warehouse. It was one of the old tenements in Alphabet City. It looked like a warehouse because it had been gutted. Probably set for demolition. I have to go."

As the Sandman turned away Dian reached out and grabbed his arm. "Sandy... listen... your the only family I have left. Take this monster down. But come home. Now go save the girl.

 

[TertiusHuman]

“You are not a perv,” Raven replied before he’d taken more than a step. “I.. was .. ‘listening’ to the universe and your thoughts were like a shout in my head. I, overreacted, and I apologize. The fault is not yours for thinking what you thought. It was mine for listening in. You spoke no wrong, you did no wrong. I did. I judged you without hesitation, or consideration for you.” Gesturing at her clothing, she shrugged. “How could you not. If I saw a girl dressed like this, I’d probably think as you did.”

“If you would like, I can get you to your - home – faster.” With twisting fingers and unspoken words she open a doorway to his most often used sleeping place. Where that was she didn’t know. But that’s how she cast the spell. “It’s safe. Probably your bedroom, or your couch.”

He looked at her as she spoke, for some strange reason he realized that just like The Rider she had just shown him that he had done no wrong. But ever since The Rider had taken him down to hell to prove that he was not a killer and basically an innocent, he had killed four people. OK sure they were bad guys, but he had killed them and that made him a killer.

He looked at the doorway she had created for him and then back at Raven, he nodded, "I just hope my dorm room still stand and that my couch is still there. I love that couch."

He stepped through the doorway and found himself almost instantaneously in his dorm room. His room was intact, which was good. His couch was still there which was good. Sirens, shouts, screams and crying...that wasn't good. He heaved a sigh and realized that he would have to go outside anyway, he had to get his books, if they still lay where he dropped them where the Blackadder had attacked him.

He never made it to the door, in fact he never made it any further than the couch.

 

[Lunaramblings]

Dusk is settling over the tenements of Alphabet City. As the darkness takes the city, a man moves with purpose through the darkening alleyways. Running, as if for his life. The man trips and staggers over an errant trash can. And as he does so, he is overtaken.

People on the nearby street cringe against a sudden wind whipping dust over the street. As if a sandstorm had formed from nowhere in particular. As it sweeps through the street it suddenly twists and changes direction in a very peculiar way for a wind to do.

As the gale of sand and dust whips through the alleyways and overtakes the fleeing man, it suddenly coalesces into a physical form. The last rays of sun glint on golden gilding of his armor. Fog billows around him as he corners the man. His claw-like hands dart out and he grasps the man by his jacket, slamming him against the wall with brutal fury.

"I tire of chasing rats. Time is drawing short. As is my temper. Now, I have heard that you own half these slums. I have heard of the way you extort those people, and were it another night I would teach you the folly of that as well. But tonight you are lucky. I seek only one of your tenants. The Scarred-Man."

"What.... what are... who..."

With sudden speed and terrible anger The Sandman lashes out and grasps the man by his jaw. "Enough. You will give me the answer I seek. Heavy comes the weight of Dreams, where mortal man cannot lie." As he speaks the Fog of Dream billows from his gauntlets. Snaking it's way deeply into the man's mouth and nostrils.

The man's gaze glazes over. His wits dulled. His mind opening to The Dreaming itself. As his mind opens, his secrets are bared clear to those that now how to see.

"Tell me where I can find The Scarred-Man."

The man's head nods and bobs as he sputters. "M-Mascot...Flats....It's abandoned. Being remodeled. He gave me cash.... lots of it. Not my job to ask why."

The Sandman pulls the man's face to the gleaming golden visage of the Helm, "You have erred gravely. You will take that money and fix the buildings you own. I will be back. If I find these people still living in squallor, I will make your worst nightmares come true. Now... SLEEP"

As The Sandman releases the man he crumbles to the ground. Having breathed deeply the Fog of Dreams The Sandman was confidant that this piece of garbage would not be able to warn his quarry. In a swirl of sand, the Raiment of The Dream Hunter is gone. And Wes pulls a phone from his pocket. Tapping a single key he puts the phone to his ear.

Dian answers on the first ring. "Sandy... have you found them?"

"I know where he is. On the way now. He's at someplace called the Mascot Flats."

"Wow, Sandy... that place has a Hell of a reputation. Even Grandpa used to talk about how bad it was. Just... watch your back is all. I hate you being out there alone."

"Dian... look, I get it. But I can handle myself. I promise. See you before dawn." Wes disconnects the phone. As he slips it back into the pocket of his jacket he again calls forth the Raiment.

He then delves through the cracked asphalt, deep into the earth below. Moving at incredible speed through the earth. Traveling through the city is always more difficult than the wild, but he is determined and his control over the earth around him is strong. Asking the very earth to guide him he follows the most direct path to his target. In setting the city, many scars were left in the Earth. A gridlock of spidercracks. The Sandman emerges from one of these micro-fissures in the boiler room of the tenement.

The Sandman walks to door and begins his search of the tenement. Begins his Hunt.

::::Meanwhile upstairs::::

Her name is Katherine. But no one calls her that. She was Kat to everyone. She had moved to Alphabet City a few months ago. She wanted to dance on Broadway. And maybe she could have. But then she ended up here. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But once he saw her... saw how full of life she was... Well, she had to be shown. She had to understand how meaningless it all really is. So he took her. And for the last several days he has held her in this Hell.

The top floor of the Mascot Flats had been completely gutted. Everything but the support beams had been taken out. It was going to be turned into a dance club eventually. The lower floors would be a restaurant, maybe a recording studio. But now, in this moment, it was an abattoir. An oubliette.

For several days Victor Zsasz had been enjoying the breaking of this girl. Before her lay the bodies of two squatters that he had carved apart in front of her. Making her watch the twisted and devious acts that he performed. Savoring not only the bloodlust, but the theft of the girls innocence. Of her faith and belief in the world.

Kat was propped on her knees against one of the support posts. Her feet bound behind her on either side of the post, her hands pulled back and tied to her ankles, forcing her into a perpetual position of supplication. Her body was wracked with pain. She had been brutally stripped, beaten.

Barely conscious, she weeps as Zsasz walked toward her.

"I'm glad to see you awake Katherine. Tonight is the night when you finally learn that all this time, you have been nothing more than a zombie. Walking through this world but not seeing it for what it is. But tonight you wil get your last reprieve. I am going to carve away the the tethers that bind you to your meaningless existence. I am going to liberate you from this retched world. I am going to give you a Gift. The Gift of being Freed."

Kat sobs as Zsasz grabs her by her hair and pulls a long slender blade for a sheath on his back. As he steps into the shafts of moonlight surrounding Kat from the skylight, she can see him as he truly is. His chest and back bare, covered in hash marks. One mark for each victim. There must be hundreds. Kat closes her eyes as she prepares to feel the cold steel of the blade end her life. Instead Zsasz press the blade against her back. Slowly, agonizingly, he carves around her shoulder blade. Just a flesh wound.

You know. My mother used to call that your Wing Bone. She said that when we die and become angels, that is where our wings grow from. She was a zombie too. She didn't understand. Not at first. But by the end... oh she understood quite well. But see, now that I have carved it open, there are no wings there... just soft, tender flesh. No Angels are coming for you Katherine."

"Your right Zsasz. I'm no Angel." The voice comes from no where and everywhere as a sandstorm erupts in the open room.

The Sand lashes the skin of Victor Zsasz, reddening it in an instant. Like being scrubbed by thousands of sheets of sandpaper at once. Zsasz lashes out wildly with the knife. Slashing at the sandstorm surrounding him.

"COWARD! SHOW YOURSELF!" Zsasz shrieks. His skin starting to peel and bleed in places. The pain excruciating.

"So be it. Victor Zsasz, you have violated this world for too long. It is time you learn, There is No Land Beyond The Law."

As he speaks The Sandman pulls himself together, ending the sandstorm and coalescing into his physical guise.

As he does so, Zsasz lunges, slashing at his foe. Over and over. Zsasz is a formidable fighter. Gifted with a knife. But The Sandman has spent an eternity hunting The Dreaming. The Sandman parried strike after strike. As he did he would occasionally dart inside the reach of Zsasz's blade and claw his sharp gauntlet across the madman's flesh.

"Victor, you will pay for your crimes. Not just here in this world you hate so much, but in the next. It is high time you feel a taste of what you have wrought."

Zsasz roars with fury. As he lunges one more time, The Sandman catches the blade hand of the madman, twists and pulls him over his hip. Disarmed, Zsasz crashes to the floor from the Judo-like throw. As The Sandman follows this momentum he locks the arm into a joint lock and grabs Zsasz by his face. Fog billows from the Gauntlet. Gasping and choking Zsasz breathes in deeply.

""It's time to Dream. And now, I will give you a Gift, Victor, the gift of Nightmare."

As Zsasz slips into a mystically induced Nightmare, The Sandman slashes the bonds holding Kat. He carefully pulls her to him, wrapping her in his coat and lifting her like a small child. Softly she whimpers...

"Is... he alive?"

"For now. He is in a deep slumber. One not of this world. One that he will suffer for sometime."

As Kat's eyes well with tears, she clings to The Sandman.

'Please... don't kill him. He wanted to show me how bad the world is, how it is a playground for people like him... but it isn't. There are always going to be bad people... but then there are people like you. He hates this world so much, let him stay in it. Let him see how wrong he is."

As The Sandman looks into the eyes of this young girl he sees a familiar glimmer in her eyes. She has a spark... a spark of light, of creativity and imagination. She's a Dreamer. She has the potential to inspire great change in the world. No wonder Morpheus wanted her saved.


"He will live. I am not in the practice of Killing. Now, lets get you some help."

Kat's eyes close and she lays her head on The Sandman's shoulder. As she fades into unconciousness The Sandman lays her gently down and dismisses his Raiment. Pulling his phone from his pocket he again dials Dian.

"I got her. He's in a Nightmare. Call it in. I'll keep watch until authorities arrive."

As he closes the phone he steps into the shades and shifts his form again, becoming a golem of Sand, he lashes toward the exposed rafters and his arm grows, wrapping around and pulling him up into the shadows where he waits and watches as first police, then EMT's arrive. Once sure that all is done, The Sandman returns home.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Greasing Palms and Breaking Hearts.

Metropolis.
Not long after.
The Warehouse District.
Former Warehouse of Ferris Air, Currently Property of Luthorcorp.
Currently... Under Reconstruction.
********​

Sydney Happersen picked his way through the rubble of the glacial destruction wreaked in this part of the city only weeks ago-- compounded by the devastation wrought by Kobra's forces-- carrying a briefcase, looking... apprehensive.

After a few quick checks that he had not been followed, as well as making sure he wasn't underneath a skylight or a hole in the warehouse roof through which he might be visible by spy satellite, Happersen set the suitcase on the splintered remnants of a desk.

And opened it.

In it was a wireless digital transceiver capable of making encrypted transactions with certain Unternet bitcoin accounts-- virtually untraceable currency that certain savvy accountants could then convert to "real world" denominations and back again.

And a shaving mirror.

Steeling himself, Happersen took out that shaving mirror and set it beside the transceiver on the desk.

"I hope I don't have to say something absurd like 'Bloody Mary...'"

After a moment, the reflection flickered.

...and Mirror Master stepped out of the reflective surface as easily as stepping out onto a patio.

"Nah, that's bollocks," McCulloch snorted. "There's nae magic words for me looking glasses."

"I trust my employer's requirements were met?" Happersen grimaced. "Blacksmith saw it opportune to shift allegiances?"

"Oh, aye," Mirror Master grinned. "Kobra called for back-up, an' we left him out tae twist. Look on his face wasnae half priceless. That Raven girl took care o' th' nuke-bint, but I was on-call if th' heroes missed th' mark."

"Glad to hear it," Happersen nodded briskly. "After my-- our mutual employer-- discovered the nexus of the Kobra event-- investigated further-- he thought it prudent to invest in an insurance policy. And he was wise to do so-- it wouldn't do any good for the next administration to inherit a heartland ruined by fallout, after all, or ravaged by the terrorism of a madman. I trust the agreed cash retainer will be sufficient, plus your standard rider regarding your... defection fee?"

"Mm," McCulloch nodded. "Aye. A full share tae each Rogue, plus 30% to Blacksmith... an' another full share again tae a certain Glasgow orphanage. I'm nae so easily bought off as all that. I may nae have Cold's uptight damnable code, but a man's gottae have standards."

"Of course," Happersen nodded, inwardly barely tolerating this Gaelic twit's ramblings, but keeping it cool outwardly. He turned and entered a code on the transaction device, let it scan his biometrics...

"Transfer complete."

"Blooday brilliant," Mirror Master chuckled. "A pleasure doin' business wi' ye, 'Happy Syd.' Blacksmith's lookin' forward tae certain Presidential considerations regardin' who really runs th' Gem Cities, come next January."

"So long as the backscratching goes both ways," Happersen replied blithely, "our mutual employer sees no reason why not. Please extend his regards to the other Rogues."

"Done an' done," Mirror Master drawled, stepping back into the mirror. "Nae tae mention-- we wound up acquirin' a new member jus' now. People shouldnae just leave bits o' shapeshifters layin' around in shiny glass jars..."

Then he was gone.

Happersen closed the mirror back away in the suitcase, and began walking back towards where his security detail waited at the service road.

All in a day's work.

 

[WiredIn]

Back to Work

Static groaned and got to his feet, holding his side as his flying disc floated over. "Thank you..I needed that." He looked warily at the water and moved farther up the embankment as Kobra was finished off. He popped out his communication disc, "Hardware, you there?"
A fuzzy and incomplete hologram of Hardware, "Static, thank god. What happened."

"Long Story. Threats taken care of, i need a pick up. Can you send the Skylark. Start a sitrep on the facility. I need details on the containment cells, experiment status, and facility infrastructure. Oh, and get me a line to the boss."

A small pause occurred before his response, "Very well, i'll send the Skylark." With a click the transmission ended and static returned the disc to its slot.

Static turned to the rest of the group, "Can you guys handle clean up here. I have a city to worry about. Can't leave the kiddies alone too long or they'll throw a temper tantrum and burn down a city block."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set.

Days would pass.

America, Canada, and Mexico would start to pick up the pieces, and tabulate the lost.

In the hours and days immediately following Kobra's attack, a wave of unity spread across the three nations in a manner almost unprecedented since September 11 nearly fifteen years before. The cracks and wounds and fault-lines, the impacts and the injuries, these would run deep and their pains might not be truly felt until later...

...but for now three nations stood together, the antithesis of Kobra's intent.

There would be much talk about who to blame.

Various national agencies, particularly The DEO, would receive scathing messages wondering why they didn't see this coming.

But in the talk of who to thank, one name kept repeating.

Lex.

Lex.

Lex.

Alexander Joseph Luthor.

His new-formed Justice League had been a catalyst for the defeat of the threat-- the cornerstone of the resistance. His resources had bolstered existing government agencies and helped them to hold the line.

And in the days following the devastation, no man, no corporation, did more to augment the rebuilding process than had Luthor and Luthorcorp.

And thus he stood at a podium in front of the shuttered, locked-down Hall of Justice in Washington, D.C., head bowed slightly, green eyes closed, with two gleaming gold pendants hanging from his neck, President Barack Obama just beside and behind him solemnly looking on.

Luthor lifted his head and he spoke. "I stand before you, a citizen of These United States, humbled by my sobering company. Thirty people in history have received both The Presidential Medal of Freedom and The Congressional Gold Medal, the two highest civilian awards in this great nation, and far far fewer have been awarded them both simultaneously. In fact, the last person in living memory to have been so honored-- was Superman."

He paused again, as though having been stunned by the magnitude of that realization. A moment of silence for the missing, the departed.

"I am-- many of you may know this already-- not a praying man. An agnostic-- an unpopular opinion in a God-fearing land-- but even I can look upon the way that We as a People have risen up beneath the tragedies and setbacks of these past days and feel a certain stirring of spirit, and cry out without irony or insincerity-- God bless America. And God bless too, our neighbors to the north and to the south, standing with us in this darkness, boldly gazing nevertheless to find the light. God bless and be with us all."

"It is perhaps, not so audacious to imagine that this day, this dark day, this February 1st, will be remembered as a milestone and as a turning point in American history such as 9/11, Pearl Harbor, D-Day... the very Fourth of July. But it is up to us how we remember it. Up to us as a nation. Do we remember this day as the beginning of an end of an era? As the breaking point at which we began to fracture and turn upon one another? Or do we remember this as fulcrum that could move the world-- inspiring us to overcome the ignorant zealotry of singlemindedness that drove our enemy to exalt himself above all others, and instead unify in the knowledge that no one faction, no one creed, no one political party, no one person has all the answers, that only together we will we unlock the secrets of science and humanity to move forward into brighter days ahead? I trust in you, my fellow Americans, that it shall indeed be the latter."

He took a breath, and gazed out into the crowd. "There are those who will criticize me for 'politicizing' this moment. But in these years, this nation, almost nothing is untouched by political spin, and so I call on you, call on you all-- transcend those politics. And be American. Be a good neighbor to your fellow Americans, your neighbor of a different color, your neighbor of a different faith, your neighbor of a different orientation. Show the courage under fire that our Founding Fathers showed in our War for Independence, and that all the greatest generations have shown since. And Unite the States of America."

He shifted the papers on his podium for a moment, but he didn't seem to be reading them-- his mind was like a steel trap, any notes would just be a formality.

"I have humbly accepted these awards on this beautiful February morning on behalf, not just of The New Justice League and their allies The Titans and the various independent metahumans whose efforts were incalculably invaluable to the winning of the day-- but on behalf of lesser-known heroes, everyday warriors and rescuers without the colorful notoriety of super-celebrities. Single mothers and blue-haired punk rockers, fire fighters and police and paramedics and soldiers and good men and women with guns."

"I am told by my good friend Director Amanda Waller of The Department of Extranormal Operations, that her investigations have revealed the first casualty of the attacks of 2/1, was a metahuman Agent of The DEO codenamed Argus, who died in service tunnels beneath The Gem Cities, slain in the very process of uncovering and engaging the cold-blooded Kult of The Kobra. In his honor, I call upon The United States Congress to rebuild The DEO into a streamlined, proactive defense agency called A.R.G.U.S.-- Advanced Research Group Uniting Superhumans."

"I am also told that one of the victims of Kobra's attack was a young neophyte hero named Moonwing, cut down before her career, her life, could even begin to begin. And so I have commissioned that hewn from New Hampshire granite be a statue of Moonwing erected here at The Hall of Justice-- which stands itself as memorial to our missing pantheon of legends-- placed in the Valhalla Gardens in the back with all the other members of The Justice League who have died in service to peace and liberty and law and order, posthumously awarding her membership in the original League and reminding all of us what heights we can achieve by sacrificing for one another-- in death, she honors all of they who died in the wake of these attacks. In this, we are all Justice Leaguers."

"I have and will continue to put at the disposal of FEMA and The DEO and The National Guard what resources, personnel, materiel, I can provide to salve the wounds of The United States and restore our infrastructure to a state stronger than ever, stronger together. I call upon my fellow so-called 'One-Percenters,' the CEOs and billionaires and self-made titans of industry, to do the same-- to turn their ingenuity and entrepreneurialism to polish our shattered cities back to a shine."

"And so I thank you, Mister President," he turned and nodded to Obama, pausing mid-sentence to reach out and shake his hand once more, before returning to face the podium anew, "and both Houses of The U.S. Congress, for the honor of these two prestigious, ultimate awards. But while an award conveys by its very nature that something is finished, done unto completion and perfection in a manner worthy of regard, I say instead that these awards are telling us that our work is only beginning."

"Thank you all. God bless America. God bless North America."

"And let us begin."

 

[ChasNicollette]

To a "T."

Jump City, San Francisco, California.
February 1.
The Day of The Kobra.
********​

"So... it's over?" Silver Bullet wondered with incredulity.

"It's over, my man," Captain Marvel promised. "The Wisdom of Solomon is sure of it!"

"Oh, thank God," Hiro exulted, fists in the air. "...did you see how awesome we were out there? You are definitely primo sidekick material, I'm gonna take you places!"

"'Sidekick,'" Captain Marvel chuckled, with a laugh that could rival thunder for its rumble. "Suuuuuure."

"We'll discuss top billing later," Hiro waved this away. "Anyway, I sure liked working with you better than with The Justice League, better chemistry, most of those guys are so grim and gritty and 90s you'd think Todd McFarlane invented them to be action figures. I'm thinking maybe they're not my scene after all."

"Assuming they didn't fire you for ignoring their distress call," Cap smirked.

Hiro poked the beefier bro in the steely chest. "Hey, I had very good reasons for--" he stopped, his eyes widened. "Oh my God, Mom and Dad, I better go check on them-- if those Kobra goons destroyed my kitchen again--!"

"Actually, gentlemen," a clear, bold, experienced voice called out, sounding kinda like Robert Stack in his prime, "before you both speed away-- I have a proposal for you."

Both heroes turned to look, and found a man in a suit standing there, flanked by a wearied, scuffed up security team. "Forgive my intrusion. My name is Loren Jupiter, and I'm a businessman of some repute. It was my silent partnership that provided the funding for the establishment of The Teen Titans and Titans Tower-- back in the days when those boys and girls were still teenagers. While I am no PR hound like a certain Metropolitan candidate for President-- and my pockets not quite as deep-- I feel that perhaps it is time to expand the franchise."

"Would you two gentlemen care to be founding members in this new team of Titans? The Titans West?"

 

[Lunaramblings]

Wes and Dian sat at the breakfast nook watching Lex give his speech.

Wes stared silently at the image. His mind in a million far away places despite hanging on the moment.

"Sandy, I know your upset. But what you were doing... it was every bit as important as going after that cult. Besides, you said yourself that you think He had a purpose behind saving her. And there were tons of heroes there, no one was here. No one was taking down Zsasz. You did that."

"Your right. I took down that psycho. But... these... whatever. Dreams, visions, I don't know. With all that chaos and death and mayhem, why wouldn't He have sent me there? Why send me after some serial killer instead of sending me after this cult? Maybe I could have helped. Maybe I could have saved more people. Dian, I lost decades in this world, but I spent what felt like eternity hunting the monsters of that other place. Why send me back so close to something like this, only to ignore it and have me chasing some sociopath that any decent detective could have found?"

Dian looks into Wes' eyes and can read the emotion. Guilt. Sorrow. With such amazing powers, of course he thinks he needs to save everyone. Dian reaches out and puts her hand on his forearm.

"Sandy. Grandpa and Grandma, they occasionally went out together. After you fell asleep. He used to tell me the stories before bed, like he was reading some old pulp magazine. But, in the end, there was always something deeper. He always carried the guilt of not being able to wake you. He blamed himself. So did she. But you need to understand, just like what happened to you wasn't their guilt to bear, the people that died, the destruction that was caused, Sandy, it isn't your guilt to bear. We all do what we can. Walk the path we are given. Your path has been a lot longer and scarier than most, but you have come home, and continued to be the man that Grandpa and Grandma would have been proud to call son. If He didn't want you there, then I am sure He has his reasons. Have trust."

Wes looks at Dian and nods. He knows that deep down she is right. He did what he was supposed to do. And if his time in The Dreaming taught him anything it was that sometimes you just had to take the small victories.

"Your right. Even if He were here and I asked, it's not like he woudl tell me straight up why he sent me running around the city instead of helping those guys. But this whole thing. It bothers me. I feel like... like when you wake up and you know you were having some great epiphany, but you can't remember what it was.... there is something just out of my reach. I can feel it."

Dian grinned as she moved her hand and stood to clear their plates.

“Never question the truth of what you fail to understand, for the world is filled with wonders.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

Contractual Obligations. (joint post with Varshanka's Renegade)

An Undisclosed Location.
Just Outside Metropolis.
Days Later.
Oh-Dark-Thirty.
********​

"Our mutual employer," Happersen grimaced, ruffling his mustache, adjusting his glasses, "did make a note of your complaint of having been owed a rifle via satellite footage. But as Velocity shortly thereafter... 'acquired' you one by 'commandeering' it from MetroPD SWAT, and that was supplied by LuthorCorp resources, I am marking that in the 'concurrent development' column."

"But I suppose you have other complaints, demands, expenses to file...?"

“The Sniper rifle lost, aka The Weapon, was a sniper rifle built to my designs. It was capable, and has perform said function, of putting a bullet in a human skull at one point seven miles. The weapon ‘acquired’ by Velocity is of unsatisfactory make and craftsmanship.” She said handing said weapon over, in a duffle bag. And thoroughly disassembled.

Happersen sniffed disdainfully, and took the bag from Renegade with obvious revulsion. As often as he facilitated transactions that ended up with people dead, he didn't much care for the murder weapons themselves.

"Very well. I suppose I cannot begrudge a surgeon their scalpel. Submit your specifications to Fabrication by the usual back-channels, I will arrange for the replica to be couriered to you."

“Has Mr. Luthor made any headway on his end of our agreement? Because if he hasn’t we need to seriously renegotiate as to whether this is a by case payment, or a per kill payment. And frankly on this last ‘assignment’ I killed a lot of.. individuals.”

Sitting there talking to him Renegade slowly shift back and forth between male and female and male again. From her/his assessment last time they negotiated it made him nervous, or at the least, he was put-off by the action. And just for added effect she/he had decided to wear a rather tight shirt.

Happersen knew, even as Renegade sought to undermine his confidence, exactly what they were trying to pull. And it worked, it rankled him, he cared even less for mercenary metas-for-hire than he did for the weapons of war they utilized. Ultimately, he shared in Lex Luthor's philosophy that humans could accomplish anything so long as they learned to do it for themselves and not let superhumans and aliens be their "cheat codes."

But, also like Lex Luthor, Happersen agreed that employing said metahumans was a necessary "evil" unless and until there was some manner of paradigm shift away from this "superhero worship."

If they were around, they might as well make themselves useful.

Perhaps this, above all, was what aggrieved Lex regarding The Superman-- the most powerful meta on the planet, and he wouldn't obey Lex' instruction. Wouldn't make himself useful. Kept doing everything for the little people so that they never learned to get strong or fend for themselves.

For now, Sydney Happersen managed to keep his eyes to himself when Renegade was visibly female in that tight, tight shirt.

Instead, he busied himself in tapping at his tablet. "It's my understanding that, cumulatively, the regular paychecks you will be receiving as a member of The New Justice League will far exceed your usual fees. It's also my understanding that most of the 'individuals' you cancelled while on this last assignment were subhuman clones produced by obsolete technology, scarcely sentient, I'm not sure those count towards your kill-ticker. Besides which, your instructions overall are to keep body counts palatable to superheroic idealists, so I hardly think incentivizing a higher ratio of hats to ground would be in our mutual interests."

He grimaced. "However. I am authorized to inform you that, as we are contractually engaged to pay for your expenses, we will be paying you additional 'handling' costs for any ammunition that you discharged over the course of this action, offsetting your lack of bonus pay for the actual killings, as well as mileage for all travel involved-- even the flight involving a company vehicle. I trust that this will remunerate you sufficiently."

"As for the other thing," Happersen frowned, "the 'cure' for your 'disability.' Our mutual employer has access to one of the world's foremost genetic research facilities, so a fix is only a matter of... perspiration and inspiration. We may require in-depth tissue samples of both your forms, not to mention the various stages of transition-- apparently the department heads of The Project want to examine your 'helical unzip' in greater detail in hopes of 'retro-engineering the mutagen' that caused your, ah, 'diminished polymorphic capacity.' Their words, don't ask me what they mean."

“I can supply both ‘perspiration and inspiration’ if recommended,” Renegade replied, resting a hand on holstered blades. “Just name the place and time and I’ll supply all the genetic material you could want.” Stepping forward she moved closer and closer to him. “Unless you’d like to collect some.. genetic material… right now?” she asked, the double entendre obvious, blunt, and blatant.

Happersen's heart thudded into his throat and he backpedaled rapidly, half-tripping before he managed to steady himself.

"Yes, ah-- I mean no! That's-- I'm not-- I'm sure it's just a cheek swab--"

He harrumphed, straightened his tie.

"Renegade. Ah. Now that you mention it, our mutual employer's legion of scientists may wish to test you... directly. Sensor-sweep your cellular structure during the conversion process for... advanced biogenetic modeling. That sort of thing. All that technobabble jazz. I'll-- I'll make certain that you do not require further NDAs to your existing contractual provisos and I'll... be in contact. Agreed?"

"If your sure?" Renegade asked, her skin rolling as she shifted into her much more masculine form. "I'd be happy to provide a genetic sample for you right now. It won't be difficult at all, but it will be HARD." He added, hooking his thumbs into his belt, forefingers point at his own crotch. Which was obviously very manly in this form.

Inside Renegade was laughing to himself. He wasn't sure which freaked out Happersen more. Renegade as a mutant, or Renegade as a Girl.

"But if you'd rather put it off, I can wait until your.. ready to receive me." He said with a wink.

Happersen scowled at Renegade, hating himself for backing up again-- but he stood his verbal ground. "Your skills are exceedingly valuable to our mutual employer. All of the murderous prowess of Deathstroke the Terminator, but without his nasty tendency towards... notoriety. But that does not mean you have carte blanche to mock, belittle, or harass me. I am The Discretionary Liaison Officer. And that means I can sever this liaison at my discretion! You would do best to remember that-- if you want your new rifle, if you want your cure, if you want to get paid. Best to not bite the hand that feeds you!"

"Are we perfectly transparent?"

"I am not mocking, belittling, or harassing. It's called flirting. I'm just trying to find out if you'd ever be interested. And if you are which you'd prefer." Renegade replied with an eyebrow arching. "Deathstroke may be a fantastic shot, worked with him once. But he's much too flashy and famous."

Leaning back, but not stepping back, Renegade's muscled form rippled and flowed returning to her female form. "I've made my interest in you plain. If you want to.. hang out off the clock, you have my number. If you don't that's fine as well. Otherwise, just email when and where for the genetic techno wizards. And remind Luthor, I'm old so I can outwait him if needed. but the faster I get my fix, the faster he can get the shot heard round the world."

"I am," Happersen trod carefully, taking a deep breath, his mind still racing paranoiacally over whether this was just another layer of deception, another iteration to the manipulation, Renegade was very good at what they did, and that often involved getting under others' skin as much as changing their own, "functionally married to my work. Your interest is... noted. But from a pragmatic standpoint, I am unavailable."

He wasn't... quite... asexual.

But he was a sniveling bootlicking toady to one of the most powerful men on Earth.

And he had been the kind of nerd in school constantly spurned or slighted by the fairer sex and he had chosen to foster toxicity rather than optimism.

Even if a perfectly normal, well-adjusted human being ever wanted to engage Happy Syd in a relationship, his dysfunction would be too systemic to even know where to begin.

It couldn't even occur to him that someone would be attracted to him without some ulterior motive or angle.

So he just... didn't date.

This slimy, spindly, hateful little man.

He just didn't date.

No matter that a real love might save him, or a quick fling might get him to unclench a little, he just didn't date.

Instead, he worked.

"I... ah... know where to find you if I need you."

Sliding onto a bike she'd 'collected' earlier, Renegade looked at Happersen. "Don't work to late. Trust me, all work and no play sucks balls. To much stress, not enough relief.. Bad for the human heart." And with a roar of a 1000cc engine she was gone, a trail of dust the only evidence she'd been there. Not even her boot prints were visible.

Happersen watched her go for a long, long moment.

Then he cleaned his glasses. "In this line of work, human hearts are only ever a target."

He picked up his briefcase and returned to his security contingent.

But even despite his protests and snarling, the suitcase seemed... a little heavier now... the burden of his lot weighing on him further now that he had gotten a whiff of an alternative.

 

[Zet_Cross]

The Mothership
Nameless Plateau
Smallville, Kansas
Days Later
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

The GRID suit can be seen in a repair capsule while Milton was at a command console next to it.

"Repairs to the Cannon and Speed Boost seem to coming along smoothly."

Yes they are. And what have we learned about overtaxing the systems?

With a sigh, "Not to do it. Yes I've learned my lesson."

 

[Varshanka]

Joint Post The Green Arrow and Dannielle Ketch

Smalltown in the midwest.
Out of the way diner
A Few Minutes before Midnight.​

She still had no idea why she had agreed to this. But here she was sitting in a diner, a cup of coffee she didn't need in front of her. Playing the role, perform the dance. She hadn't drank coffee or tea, or really much of anything in years. Same with food. The Rider provided her with everything she needed, and a great deal of things she despised.

Reaching out she looked at Conner, and slid her finger into the steaming liquid. It was so hot, the waitress had warned her about it when she sat it down. But it got even hotter now as it began to boil. "Ask.." she said. "I'll answer what I can."

*****

Connor had done what she had asked and arranged to meet her at a diner. It was nothing fancy but it was somewhere they could talk. They had both ordered coffee and then sat staring at each other. He didn't know where to begin. He had so many questions but which ones where appropriate and which would be too personal?

He watched as she stuck her finger in the hot liquid and was going to grab it and pull it out when he saw the coffee begin to boil and bubble.

"Ask.." she said. "I'll answer what I can."

He smiled. "Okay but first I have to say that is a great trick. No cold drinks or food for you, and I bet you are great to snuggle up to on a cold night. Well as long as you can control your temperature that is. I would hate to burst into flames," he chuckled to show her it was a joke.

"Alright on to serious questions. I know your name is Dani and that you are bonded with the Rider. You probably expect me to ask all about that and how it happened. Well really I am not interested. Oh don't get me wrong I am curious but what I really want to know about is you," he told her smiling. "Who is Dani and what does she like? You are not the rider 24/7 and I want to get to know you."

“I can’t drink or eat anything cold, it achieves room temperature before I can even try. I’ve never had ice cream. Or ice.” She told him softly. “I chose the name Dannielle for it means ‘God has judged’. As for Ketch, John Ketch was an executioner in the later half of the sixteen hundreds. He hung his victims, or cut their heads off. Most hanging.” Still stirring the coffee she watched as it boiled away. “I don’t eat often. Don’t need to. I can eat food that makes normal people sick.”

“As for the relationship of me and the other one. The Rider as we are called. It and I. Think of a coin. Heads, and tails. One coin, opposites. We are The Rider. I am the host.. the face. The Other is always there, just not as often observed as I.”

“Relationships. I’m just over two thousand years old. At first I tried to forget what I did, who I was. I was.. reckless. As you would say.. I fucked my way across the middle east. I was stoned as harlot.” Looking up she met his eyes. “I’ve had sex with more men than I can remember. Punished a fair number of them as well, when things turned bad.”

“Ever hear about the Wandering Jew? Judas Escariot, the betrayer of Jesu? The Last Centurion that walks for all time until the Son of God returns? Men wrote books back then, and men don’t like when a girl is the true villain, or hero. So everything back male. Except when they called me Mary Magdalene, then I was a whore.”

“Me. All me. I betrayed Jesu Christus for thirty pieces of silver. Shekals. And was in turn betrayed. I hung myself, and took three DAYS to die. I spent an eternity in hell. And when I opened my eyes I was breathing again. Hurt like nothing you can imagine, and I was THE RIDER. That.. thing and I were bound together.”

“I’ve tried to care. To love. I’ve never given birth. Never held my own child in my arms. I’ve buried a number of husbands. I’ve watched as they’ve grown old, withered and died before my eyes. I’ve even looked them up after they’ve died. Most of them are in hell. Some in Purgatory. Only one still hasn’t been found. He might actually be in heaven.” Shrugging she looked up again.

“I’m damaged more than you can imagine. I gave Christ to the Sanhedrim. And when my task is done. I’ll go back to Hell for all Eternity and be punished for it.”

Connor looked at her with wide eyes and an open mouth before he closed it and then took a sip of his coffee. Okay, it wasn't everyday that you found out that the woman you wanted to date was the betrayer of Jesus and had been around for over two thousand years.

Still he heard the hurt and pain in her voice and his heart went out to her. She fully expected to go back to hell and yet she still carried on doing what she did. Sure it sounded like she didn't have much of a choice, an eternity of torment or punish the wicked. He knew which one he would choose. However after awhile it might seem like a punishment anyway.

"So you actually got to meet Jesus huh?" he said. "He look anything like the paintings?" Okay not the brightest thing to say but he always used humor to defuse stressful situations.

“The Paintings are a depiction of Pope Alexander VI's son Cesare Borgia. Jesus was Jewish, much darker skinned.”

"I get that you have been alive for a long time Dani, and seen your share of bad things. Hell it sounds like you have seen a worlds share of bad things. Still I just want to bring a little happiness into both of our lives if I can," he told her smiling and getting a little more serious. "I am not asking for anything too serious at the moment, but I am not saying I wouldn't mind if it did go that way. As for your past," he shrugged, "Who cares. What I care about is you. Sure your past helps define who you are but it shouldn't rule you."

Smiling he reached over and covered her other hand with his gently. "Just for now why don't you let yourself just have a little fun. I have been told I am quite good at making people laugh. Not sure if that's because I am funny or people just laugh at me, but either way you might get a smile on your face if you agree to a date with me," he chuckled.

“Come to hell with me, watch as a billion human souls are tormented and tortured for the sins they’ve committed. Then try telling jokes, and laughing.” She replied. “I will associate with you. Work with you. But I cannot laugh.” She told him, a red glow coming from inside/behind her eyes. “Prove that your worth more than that, and I will consider it.”

Connor nodded and then looked in her eyes again. "You would be surprised what I could laugh at," he told her. "You might have noticed I use humor to fill in awkward gaps and when I feel afraid. I can tell you if you took me there I would definitely be afraid."

Then nodding he again patted her hand. "Still I get your meaning. Do not worry. I will always stand beside you and will have your back in any fight you choose to enter and truly I am more than just a joker. Now besides talking about the doom and gloom things, is there anything else you do like to do?"

"Eat ice cream. Drink something, anything cold. Walk into a temple of God and not have the place catch on fire." Danni replied, looking at his hand holding hers. "As for things I like to do.. I don't know. I rode horse until that fell out of normality. Then I took up bikes. This is the most 'nonactive' time I've had in centuries. I don't have anything like hobbies. I don't watch movies or go to malls, crowds tend to have someone bad in them."

"Never surfed, fished, or rode in a plane. I just.. don't do things..." she admitted, still looking at his hand.

Connor's eyes lit up and he gave her hand a small squeeze. " Have to say I have only ridden a horse on a few occasions, but they are magnificent creatures. However if you have a love of riding things and a love of the cold, well maybe I have just the thing for you. Have you ever ridden a snowmobile before?" he asked with a grin. "Just maybe I have found something that might interest you. No crowds, riding and cold. What do you say, you up for it?"

Time not hunting the damned. Not bringing Penance. Just, relaxing? She hadn’t had time to even try and just be, herself, for so long. Not since the day she hung herself. Was it allowed? How soon before The Rider came ripping forward to demand Vengeance?

“I – promise – nothing. But I’m willing to try.” But she was fully expecting disappointment.

Connor smiled widely. She did not sound all that enthusiastic but he would take it. It was definitely a start.

"I will need a few days to set it all up, but I will call you when it is. Let's just hope the world stays calm for the next week."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Took a Pill in Ibiza.

The Private Practice of Dr. Simon LaGrieve.
New York City.
Days After Kobra.
Morning.
*******​

Simon LaGrieve was a good man.

A psychologist, psychologist, and parapsychologist, he had been a trusted resource to the superhuman community for two decades. He had done work both as a private citizen and for The DEO, and his respect had been well earned.

Even some supervillains called him when they needed to recalibrate-- LaGrieve had saved lives with his calm, compassion, and confidentiality.

And now, in a small room in his offices in New York, he was trying something new.

A mental health support group for superheroines.

They were going around the circle.

"--anyway, I think I've got a handle on my spellaholism," Zatanna smiled hopefully. "Having a particularly toxic old flame drag me back into his cycle of bullshit didn't help, and that-- rush of endorphins as we helped save the world-- but I've been cool. Haven't been using it for anything frivolous or invasive. Strictly business. Which is... good. But I'm nervous. I just got asked to join a new superhero team out of my hometown San Francisco, temptation is going to be everywhere. How can I use my great power responsibly if there's going to be so much opportunity to use it irresponsibly?"

"Zatanna, is that a rhetorical question," Dr. LaGrieve wondered, "or one for the group?"

"I meant it rhetorically," Zatanna admitted, "but I really am open to suggestions!"

Simon nodded easily, then gestured to the group. "Does anyone have any support for Zatanna, any things that have helped them in the past?"

"Hi, um, I'm Ruby Reed, Hotline," Ruby piped up, holding up a hand, nervously, gnawing her lip. "I'm not-- I don't have extensive experience with-- power-dependency-- but I can tell you I probably drink a little more than I should. The occasional-- recreational drug. I rationalize it that I'm not an alcoholic, not an addict, but I dunno, my granddad would always say that 'You wouldn't have to rationalize it if there was nothing there to rationalize,' and he was a wise old man. The day of-- 1 February-- I was right there in the thick of it, and I could feel my sanity just slipping away from me."

She shook her head with a wince. "A new co-worker questioned the source of my powers, and there was-- so much carnage. Unstoppable waves of carnage, literal buckets of blood. I feel better about my powers now, but that was just-- haunting. And I can feel the bottle calling me. Like a siren song in my skin. We saved so many people that day but the ache of wanting to just-- sublimate it into a good bit of beer and Scotch--"

Tightly muscled, slender shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "What's saved me so far is a childhood memory. A more innocent time. A talk with a friend. About not losing yourself. Not losing what makes you you. Cherishing that like a candle cupped in your hands against the wind. Our powers are-- just an advantage. Just a bonus, just a leg up. If we were baseline humans, no capes or costumes or meta-capabilities, we would still be out there helping people on a subtler scale. Saving the world in the little things. It's so important to remember that person, the person we would be, and not sacrifice that person to pressures or pleasures that would take us too far from that person."

Ruby gestured expansively. "So I guess my advice is-- y'know-- Simba-- remember who you are, or find out who you are if you don't know yet. And don't betray that person. If you do-- they'll forgive you-- there's no distance you can't fall that you can't climb back up. But it's so important to cherish that real you, to care what happens to them, to keep them safe. That's... that's all."

Zatanna nodded, a little bit teary-eyed, and she managed a smile through the sniffles. "Your friend said all that? They're very wise."

"Yeah," Ruby nodded quietly, glanced down at her hands. "She always was. Wisdom of Solomon."

"Thank you, I think I'm okay for now," Zatanna nodded gratefully to Simon.

Simon smiled encouragingly, then glanced around at the circle. "Would anyone else like to share?"

"Ah, hi," Jessica smiled tightly, nervously. "I'm Teen Lantern. I-- I got traumatized not long ago. Held at gunpoint in the woods. Watched my friends get murdered-- massacred-- by organized criminals. I barely survived. And ever since I've struggled with post-traumatic stress, agoraphobia-- it's almost impossible for me to leave my apartment. And one day-- one day this man in Green just appears and gives me this Ring..."

She waved her hand with the Ring attached, still looking at it like it was a bug about to bite her. "...and told me to come to The Titans for help learning how to protect the Earth. He said I had the ability to overcome great fear, whatever that means. I don't know-- I don't know how he could mean that. Like, really mean that. Because I'm a superhero who breaks down crying sometimes when she needs to go out and buy groceries, or pick up a package from the Post Office or something. I've been making progress. But how can this be me? How can this be happening?"

"It, um, seems to me," Rose murmured, sitting there in her Pale Martian superheroine form, "that you've overcome great fear just sitting here and talking. There's not a lot of people who could successfully be that-- honest-- and vulnerable in front of strangers. I, uh-- oh-- Hi, I'm Martian Manhuntress."

She licked her lips for a moment, trying to recapture her train of thought. "I-- I also struggle with identity issues, so, Zatanna, Hotline, thank you for that. But I-- I really feel this about not being able to live your life, go outside, the fear of what will happen, I was badly-- scared and hurt and almost-- assaulted-- and--"

Rose tilted her head and managed not to cringe. "--sorry. Well. For a long time I had trouble leaving my own home. And I've just managed. Fits and starts. To get over that. Sometimes it just takes time, you know? Giving yourself the space to heal. It also helps to have supports in your life, like, you've got The Titans, I've got-- The New Justice League, I just-- I just got this incredible new girlfriend. But the important thing is to... to remember the definition of fear. And remember the definition of courage. Overcoming great fear isn't-- you know-- crushing fear into dust, driving it away from all corners of your mind, I don't know anyone that can do that."

"Overcoming fear means feeling that fear, really, really feeling it... but doing what it takes anyway, whatever it takes, doing the right thing. You know? And it sounds to me like you're doing that every day, just by existing, just by stepping across your threshold, let alone flying all the way to New York. You do have the power to overcome fear. You are overcoming it. And the more you overcome fear in the little things, the easier it'll be to overcome it in the big."

"Yeah, I guess," Teen Lantern slowly conceded. "Still... it might be nice to... it might be nice to do away with the fear wholesale. Just once."

Martian Manhuntress smiled faintly, sympathetically, sincerely. "Oh, if only."

"These last few weeks have been-- hard," Alix admitted from over in the corner, her stainless silversteel skin gleaming under the incandescent bulbs dimmed to be soothing. "And I wasn't gonna talk today, I was just gonna-- try it out and-- and appease my flatmate, I guess. I'm, um, Alix Harrower. I guess my 'codename' is The Bulleteer. Could be worse, I guess. I only ever wanted to be normal. Lots of people-- my husband-- see superheroes running around in tight clothes and tight bodies and just wanna be a part of that-- but I never could make sense of it, I just wanted to live my life. And now-- now this is my life. And I still can't make sense of it."

Her pale metal eyes gazed quietly at the other women in the room, at Dr. LaGrieve. "But I guess none of you can, either. Except... except with each other. With people who've gone through it, too. So I guess that... puts it into perspective, a little? Makes it make sense that it doesn't make sense. If that... makes any sense."

She shook her head, her red hair wafting from side to side against her cheeks. "So. Thank you. All of you. And I hope... I hope we can do this again? Same time next week?"

"Same Bat-Channel," Zatanna grinned, and then hesitated. "Sorry, inside joke."

Simon smiled brightly. "Well, if this has been of a help to any of you, I'm happy to keep doing it so long as it does help. And I'm glad to hear, Alix, that you've benefited from it even now. Would... would anyone else like to talk for a time?"

 

[TertiusHuman]

While the world was busy seeking heroes, celebrating their victory, albeit small, over "evil" and in general went through the motions to heal themselves, Garfield did some healing of his own.

A few cockroaches hung out in his dorm room whenever anybody entered. They were casually overlooked since that is just human nature to not look in dark spaces. Garfield wasn't given up as missing as he was active online and people did see glimpses of him.

It took a total of four days for Garfield to get his image inducer fixed and to heal up enough to walk without a limp. He took to the streets, listened and watched and all the time felt sick to the pit of his stomach when anybody mentioned the whale crashing into the bridge.

But his emotions got pushed down to where they belong and he went on a little road trip since school was closed until repairs could be made.

A day later, five days after the demise of Kobra and the fall of Kaldur, a young man dressed in green and black entered the new Head Quarters of the Justice League. Since he was half-dead and in gecko form, he didn't get the streets right, but when a security guard stopped him inside the lobby, he knew he had the right building.

He held out a watch display case, in it was the watch that Kaldur had given him before the battle. The guard looked at it with suspicion.

"Kaldur gave this to me to use, I have used it and am bringing it back to him. Please give it to him?"

The guard haltingly took the case and the young man lifted his right arm to pat the smart watch on his wrist, "I have my own one now. He might need it when he is well again."

As the young man turned away to leave, the guard finally realized the watch was just a watch.

"Hey who should I say sends this?"

The young man pauses at the door and slips on a pair of sunglasses,

"You can tell him Garfield says thanks for the images."

He pauses, then shrugs and step outside, joining the stream of pedestrians outside on the sidewalk.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Quantifying Hyperstrings. (joint post with Aussie_Wolf's Green Arrow)

Titans Tower.
East River, NYC.
Atom's Lab.
Days After Kobra.
********​

"So you're the all-new all-different Green Arrow, huh?" The Atom wondered as he tinkered in his lab.

Ray Palmer, boy genius, scientist extraordinaire, Titans recruit, youngest professor in the history of Ivy University, had the ability to utilize white-dwarf star-matter to offset, alter, and manipulate his own size and mass for a variety of effects-- not the least of which was becoming tiny down to the subatomic level.

"I gotta say, and don't take offense, please," Ray mused as he adjusted knobs and checked readouts, "most kids when they suit up in the colors and train to beat up baddies in alleys, they tend to go more for the Batman angle. Not a lot of kids saying 'hey, I wanna be that Robin Hood dude when I grow up!' I mean, a few, but not a lot. What made you decide to Rit-dye your threads Lincoln Green? Did someone ask you, 'Yo man, would you like to rob from the rich and give to the poor?' and you said 'SHERWOOD!'?"

Connor groaned. Oh he had heard some bad puns in his time but that was among the best. "No offense taken. Let's just say I have a liking for Archery and I am damn good at it,"he chuckled. Right now he wasn't ready to expose the connection between himself and the first Green Arrow.

Ray nodded a seems-legit nod, having no reason to quibble with that in the least-- for all of his prattling nonsense he was a pretty easygoing guy, all things considered. "Hey, I can grok that, you gotta roll with your strengths."

"However I have discovered a few flaws in my plans one of which I am hoping you might help me with. During the last big action against Kobra I kept running out of arrows. Not a favorable situation for an archer to be in you would agree. So I am hoping you would have some device that would be able to shrink and enlarge a whole quivers worth of Arrows so I can carry maybe a few reloads on my person each time I go out," he looked at him hopefully.

Oh, now that gave him pause, and he gave Connor a fascinated look. "...huh. That is... that is a thought experiment. Green Arrow and Red Arrow-- uh, I work with Red, when he's around-- tread carefully with him, he's grumpy-- anyway, they always use-- used-- stuff that folds down when they're not using it. Telescopic, that sort of thing, like how Batman fits-- fit-- all his stuff in that belt. But actually shrinky-dinking whole quivers? ...hypothetically, it could be done."

"...huh. Batman."

His brow furrowed, and he started thinking and pacing.

"I could create a belt, like the prototype I originally used to change size... only the systems would be internalized... so instead of changing you, it would just shrink objects that you put into the belt's segmented 'pouches,' maintain the objects' molecular stability while they're in there, and return them to normal size when you remove them from the belt. It would take a fraction of the white-dwarf matter, but maintaining the power of the unit would be super important. If the belt got damaged and/or lost power, the shrunken items would lose molecular stability in moments and would instantly just be-- dust."

Connor didn't like the idea of that. Still it would be no worse than what he had experienced on this mission. However if his other plans took off, having the items inside turn to dust could become very expensive.

"Just as long as the belts not too fragile Doc. You know what we go through and you know the sort of pounding it might take. I'm not saying I am going to be in the thick of things like some of the brawlers, but things happen. Still you seemed to get by for all those years without it breaking down on you, so I trust you."

"Yeah, well, that belt took me a few tries," Ray admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his helmet, "and then I switched to a more dependable gauntlet-headset model. So there's that. But, mm, there's stuff I can do to reinforce--"

He hesitated, and pointed at Connor squarely. "Just don't... don't try to shrink anything living, okay? Plastic Man or Offspring could probably take it but don't try to use it for Take Your Super-Pet to Work Day, okay?"

"C'mon Doc, do I look like the type of guy that would do that? No I only need it for the arrow's and maybe one or two other things if there is going to be room. Maybe a staff or something for when I truly run out of arrows or close quarters combat, but definitely not anything organic I promise," he smiled.

"Actually, you seem really trustworthy!" Ray chuckled. "Roy always says I'm too trusting, but seriously, you have a really compassionate demeanor. Okay. Give me-- a week. Week and a half? I should be able to get you a functioning prototype that won't crater a city block."

He paused, and squinted, looked sidelong at Hawke. "Speaking of arrows. What's your engineering situation like, could you use any help with your drag coefficients?"

Connor smiled. He had just had a similar conversation with a friend of his mothers new boyfriend.
"That's okay Professor. I actually have someone working on them for me and they know what they are talking about. We are trying several different types of arrow heads out along with different shafts and flights to improve wind resistance and accuracy. So far things are looking rather promising."

"Okay, that's cool," Palmer nodded easily, "not all your eggs in one basket, use all the resources at your disposal, no problem. But you're missing out! I have this incredible wind-tunnel simulation, programmed it myself, just phenomenal. It's how I teach myself to surf breezes when I'm tiny. But that's cool."

Smiling at him he clapped him on the shoulder. "However I do have some rather ambitious plans for some new arrows that I would love to discuss with you, but I would like to get used to these basic ones first before getting too fancy. Give me a few months and let me get back to you, If that's okay with you of course?"

Ray brightened at that. "Sure, yeah! I've done some great stuff with Red Arrow's bag of tricks, you just wait! That sounds awesome! Until then I'll work on your new... belt.."

But then he trailed off.

And he looked at his lab.

And his eyes widened behind his visor.

"Oh sweet Asimov, that's it-- that's the eureka--"

--he sprinted to a computer console muttering frantically--

"--The Chandrasekhar Limit--"

"--but if we up the Heisenberg tracking we risk altering the values just by observing--"

"--instead should step up the algorithm used to calculate electron cloud probability distribution, predicting the velocities and locations of particles without having to scan them directly--"

"--power requirements for quantum computing would be increased, but requirements for mass containment would be slashed--"

He put his fist on his helmeted forehead and scrunched up his face. "Oh. What was the subatomic threshold for thought-matter-energy conversion-- ah!"

Connor shook his head smiling. He had seen this sort of thing before although not quite the same, when one or the other monks had a break through in knowledge.

He knew right now that Ray had basically forgotten that he even existed. It was just him and the science. Heck half of the stuff that was coming out of his mouth he couldn't understand anyway.

Wondering if he should leave he started backing away towards the door, but he felt bad about just leaving without saying goodbye, yet he did not want to interrupt his train of thought. Instead he ended up leaning up against the wall watching the professor as he went about his work.

 

[WiredIn]

Virgil's Lab
S.T.A.R. Labs Dakota Special Research Branch
Dakota City, Michigan
Several Hours after the Incident
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Static walked into the ruined lab with its electronics and sensitive instruments strewn about. The few light bulbs that remained untouched flickered in their fixtures, the power situation clearly hadn't been handled yet. He lifted a damaged screen and propped it up as he breathed life into the dead circuits. The S.T.A.R. Labs logo flickered onto the screen and he began checking what few systems were working.

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

Environmental Control....COMPROMISED

Back-Up Generators....DIAGNOSTIC UNAVAILABLE

Internal Security Measures....COMPROMISED

Video Surveillance....OFFLINE

Subject Containment....DIAGNOSTIC UNAVAILABLE

Experiment Housing....FAILURE
------------------------------------------------------------​

Virgil ran his hand through his hair and took off his mask, rubbing his eyes. This would take time to fix and recover from. His research would be lucky if it wasn't set back weeks if not months. He stepped away from the monitor and made his way to the elevator bank at the end of the hall.

He took the elevator down to sublevel 3 Subject Containment and Experiment Housing. Dr. Metcalf was moving a steel beam that collapsed down from the ceiling. He shoved it aside and glanced back, "Ahh! Virgil, you're back."

"Yes, whats the sitrep on the subjects?"

"Ahh, yes. That. As was expected the containment units didn't hold up when power grid overloaded during dematerialization. What little i could assess from recovered video and observations, D-Struct has certainly escaped the facility and several Replay clones have made it out. Rubberband Man remains in our custody but his cell has lost power and he's fluid again, a few technicians are working on the environmental systems but not many of the facilities staff that were here at the start of the attack are in working order."

Virgil nodded wordlessly, "I need you to get in contact with the director. We need to make him aware. I can handle debris clearing. As soon as we have containment repaired we retrieve the assets. We can't afford the risk of allowing them free reign." Metcalf nodded and disappeared into the elevator while Static continued to clean the corridor of debris.

This would take time...

 

[Wyldfire]

~Macon County, Alabama, Days after the event~​

The young woman stood in the field, holding the delivery, looking at what the Sheriff and Staties had done to try to stop her. "My my my, all this fuss over little ol' me?" She laughed. These guys were just plain dumb if they thought a road block and twelve Sheriff and State troopers were gonna stop her. Now they'd get ta see what dealing with the Rebel got them.

Her eyes flared and car tires melted. No pursuit. She put her glasses back on and she ran. Right at them. Into the fire that would sooner or later come. She couldn't let that happen, Papa Nash'd kick her ass if she lost another delivery bein dumb. In a burst of ultra speed she was past the cops and well on her way. That was when she found the real trap. Twenty more cops came outta no where. They opened fire as Jo jumped, using strength to hurl herself upwards. She curled around the 'shine ta protect it. She went tough to protect herself and the bullets bounced. The case of 'Shine was safe and secure with her wrapped around it.

The barrage stopped as she flew past the trap. She knew who was behind this. It had ta be that bitch deputy that'd tried ta mess up her good time at the bar the other night. Walked right in and called Jo out as being the Rebel. Jo'd played it off but she knew the bitch was gonna cling to it like Dirk or Gim ta a scrap a meat on the bone. Jo loved those dogs. But enough a being distracted. She could feel herself on the decent and shifted to flight. Jo knew she was gonna have ta deal with that deputy sooner or later. But it'd be later. A delivery ta make and a party ta celebrate another successful run.

The red headed deputy with her close cropped hair scowled. Dammit, they were going to need help with this. Time to call in the big guns. She picked up her radio. "This is Deputy Hanson, she got away again. We need help. We need some Metas out here."

~Later the same day, Willies Bar and Grill~​

Jo and her crew were kicking it hard. They'd already finished one bottle of whisky and Lord knew how many beers. Old Willie didn't even growl at them for bringing her boys Dirk and Gim with them. He knew the coon hounds weren't gonna be trouble. Least no more trouble than the people they were running with. Her adopted brothers, the Nash boys, and their girl friends, and Tina. Tina with her long black, black hair, and those blue eyes that you could almost swim in. And damn, when she wore that hair in those pig tails! Jo laughed at one of Mickey's jokes and shook off that feeling of missing something. Just another part of her screwed up head. Jo was more of an in the minute kind of girl. Memories were a pain in the ass. She snatched Randy's beer and chugged it. The night was just starting and Jo planned on having a great one.......

 

[ChasNicollette]

Contingencies. (joint post with LuckyVic's Nightwing)

NJLHQ Medlab.
Days After Kobra.
********​

Aquaman floated upside-down in a vertical, cylindrical tank, hiding his pain well but it was still obvious to those who knew him. Damian and Ruby knew him pretty damn well.

Ruby sat on a nearby medbed, legs dangling, looking... worried.

"We may wish to sweep for bugs before we begin," Aquaman suggested to Damian, his voice tinny through the hydrophone speaker in the tank. "Considering the kind of man we believe our 'benefactor' to be. If he is not that kind of man, he will not begrudge us our privacy."

Damian pulled out a small device. And pressed the only button on it. "This is better... it's jamming field. It'll only last a few minutes however before they can crack it."

Ruby glanced down at her Dial. "Hey. I lost a whole bar of signal. Damn, not a lot of things can do that!"

"We must be expedient," Kaldur agreed. "Dr. Roquette is a skilled surgeon and geneticist, but she tells me that 'magic volcano glass' is out of her area of expertise. She has done her best to extract all of the material she can, and has made me very comfortable, but what I really need is healing magics from The Conservatory in Atlantis. I have spoken with Queen Mera, and she promises me the best clerics she can spare-- but none of us know how long I will be gone."

"And since the three of us may be the only ones that truly suspect Luthor's intentions aren't for the good," Ruby grimaced, "your leaving really puts us in a bind."

"I regret it deeply," Kaldur nodded, "but in this condition I cannot fight or lead effectively. We spoke before, Nightwing, about your being team co-leader, and accepting the burden of full leadership should I be unable to continue. Are you still willing and able to do so? I am told you were quite decisive after Velocity exfiltrated me. ...thank you for that."

Damian didn't reply right away. He remembered when he was a child he actually lived for such a moment and thought it inevitable. But in more recent years he had been more hesitant about it. "If I have to, however there are some things I have to do first before I actually take on such a great responsibility. And if that happens it won't be Nightwing that will actually be leading." he said. It had been something he had been thinking about since the incident in Central City.

"Wait, do you want the--" Hotline started, frowning, and then nodded as it dawned on her. "Oh. Crikey. You're switching suits again? I swear, you Bats and Birds do that almost more often than I do."

"We will be more than accommodating of any personal time you need, to be certain," Aquaman inclined his head. "A Chairmanship of any Justice League is not to be entered into lightly. Can we do anything to ease the transition?"

"No there is no way to ease this." Damian said. There was once that he thought he would just one day take his legacy, his birthright. But now what he wanted the most was for his father to willingly give it to him. What he'd like even more was if his father would involve himself so they could distance themselves away from Luthor.

"That is more than fair," Aquaman agreed, having had in the last weeks to take on a figurative crown that made his head heavy indeed.

"In the meantime," Ruby wondered with a frown, "what do we do about Lex? We all know he's got to have some kind of angle with this thing, but what?"

"We can remove some of his influence he has over the League." Damian suggested. "Maybe convince others to support the League so we don't need his resources as much."

"The establishment of this League," Kaldur frowned, "has thus far proven to be a major feather in his political cap."

"The other day on 'Fox and Friends,'" Ruby reflected ruefully, "he said that if people were worried about his having access to nuclear weapons, that having access to some of the most powerful superhumans on the planet should be a good test run. The panelists laughed, I got the wiggins."

"Undermining his controlling interest in The League," Kaldur considered, "could lead to repercussions as Luthor defends what is his. On the other hand, seeing how he reacts to a situation like that may reveal facets of his industrial-military substrate as he reallocates resources that could prove... illuminating. It is worth a shot. But be careful."

Nightwing nodded. "If I can convince the CEO of Wayne Enterprises to become a backer, as well as to use his contacts to have other billionaries we can free ourselves without it seeming it came from within. Maybe even refit the Hall of Justice to use as our headquarters." he suggested.

Kaldur nodded slowly. "Yes. Try it."

"I will talk to Ray and Natasha about their thoughts on breaking the lockdown on The Hall of Justice-- perhaps new perspectives will be able to find a way around The Justice League's contingency security that other experts have not."

"Either way we have to take things carefully. Whatever Luthor is upto, he's been planning to do it for awhile. We have to be careful not just of him, but those he has brought into the team. At least until we know who we can truely trust." Nightwing added.

"Too right," Ruby agreed.

"Speaking of which," Kaldur noted, "both of bringing people into the team, and people we can trust. As much as I know the powers and abilities of the... 'Aqua Family' are belittled by stand-up comics and bloggers... my departure will leave a void in The League's powersets. As I am going to the care of The Conservatory in Atlantis, I have suggested that one of their present students be exchanged to stand in for me in the line-up."

"Did you ever meet Lorena Marquez, the current Aquagirl?" If Aquaman experienced additional pain at referencing the fact that there had been a previous Aquagirl, the late Tula, he did an additionally good job of covering it. "She had been a member of The Titans' mentorship program, but I was not certain if her time coincided with your tenure on the team or if that was after you had left and Red Robin had returned."

"I am aware of her time with them, but never really got to know her. Though I believe she may have had spent some time with the time while Red Robin and Static were members." Nightwing stated.

"Indeed," Kaldur nodded. "She possesses hydrokinetic abilities, aquatic superathleticism, and telepathic properties similar to my own, though she may be more... spontaneous than I am, and less experienced. I am trusting you both with keeping an eye on her, and keeping her safe from Luthor."

"We won't let you down, Kal," Ruby promised.

 

[Aussie_Wolf]

Velocity gets recruited

With the battle finally won and the clean up crews on site, Velocity had done her bit to look for survivors and anybody that had hidden themselves. She had criss-crossed the city dozens of times, checking buildings in a fraction of the time it would have taken teams of people. Still she felt like she wasn't doing enough and that she had missed some clue that might have led to rescuing someone.

Finally she was sent home and soon she was back in her dorm that remarkably was still intact. She knew tomorrow that the true horror of the situation would probably catch up to her, but as soon as she saw her own bed she barely had the energy to change before crashing and falling asleep.

She awoke to darkness and looked at her clock. It was 7 at night and she was surprised she felt so refreshed. She had only slept 4 hours but she felt hungry so she decided to get up and shower and eat before maybe grabbing some more sleep. Grabbing a towel she headed for the showers and for once had the place to herself. It was sort of eerie but she was still too exhausted to care, so after cleaning herself she made her way back to her room and dressed casually while deciding where to go to eat.

Of course anything on Campus would be out and then of course she began to think of just how bad the town had been hit. It was amazing, she had been fighting so much that she had not had time to think, but while they had been fighting Kobra and his forces in Keystone, they had also been attacking all around the country causing devastation.

Sighing she was about to head out when she felt a tingling in her head and a cheery voice began to speak to her. <"Uh, hey, Velocity. Don't freak out or anything, this is Rose-- ah-- Martian Manhuntress. We wanted to give you some downtime before we contacted you again, so I waited a couple of days and then scanned until your mind became active-- it's not easy to scan for speedsters, you know, your minds are-- it's like trying to catch a fly with chopsticks. Anyway: we're inviting all the metahumans that joined in and battled Kobra to join The New Justice League. If you're interested come to our HQ and I can give you the grand tour."> Directions suddenly flooded into her mind and then her presence seemed to leave.

Carin was shocked. One, the NJL wanted her to join. This was a big deal. She had never expected anything like this. Heck she had left her last team because she had wanted to do the normal teenager thing. Still was it the right thing to do? Well surely it would be okay to at least go along and see what their offer was, right?

The other shocking thing was that Rose had said she had waited a few days. Just how long had she been asleep? No wonder she was feeling so refreshed if she had slept for at least a day instead of the few hours she had thought. Well then she guessed there was no time like the present. Quickly changing into her uniform again she set out for the NJL's headquarters. She could be there in minutes and all thoughts of hunger had been blown away by excitement.

She arrived faster than she thought, her excitement lending her speed, although she remembered to keep below the speed of sound in built up areas. She had expected to see something like the old JL's headquarters and was slightly disappointed to discover herself outside of an impressive looking Metro police department precinct building. Still who was she to complain. Then she looked closer and realized it was the same building she had brought Kaldur to when he had been injured. It just looked different without all the people surrounding it an the injured lying on the ground.

Rose must have been keeping some form of psychic tab on her, for she was waiting out the front for which Carin was grateful. She had been wondering how she was going to gain entry into the building. Oh sure she was in full costume and she was sure someone had probably told whoever was in charge of security she was coming, but it would be pretty awkward to just walk in not knowing where to go or who to see and try to introduce yourself.

Luckily Rose took care of all of that, introducing her to the right people, getting her a security pass, scanning her details into the security system. She had been a little wary of that, but when the alternative was being targeted by the buildings security's systems, she decided it was worth it. Finally she got shown around the actual NJL part. The living quarters, medical wing where Kaldur was recovering for now, scientific area, training facilities, and all the rest. Carin was impressed. This place wasn't just state of the art, it was beyond it.

Finally she was shown the heart of the building. A large domed room with a big round table surrounded by chairs. Carin smiled as she realized what this table was. The meeting place of the NJL. Reverently she stroked the table and ran her fingers over the chairs. To think she might be sitting in one of these soon.

Rose looked on with a small smile of her own then guided her to a smaller room. "So what do you think, Velocity? The place is pretty shiny-- I know how much it took my breath away at first-- and we have plenty of room. You can move in here, or stay where you are now and just come when you're summoned. I guess with your speed you're never more than a heartbeat away," she laughed.

"How about I give you some time to think it over?"

Carin shook shook her head. There wasn't any need for her to think. “I am ready to sign up right now. I just want to have access to the computers for a little while if that's okay? Don't worry I don't want to look up anything too secret. I would just love to get a look at some of Flash's training data, or maybe his own observations on speed. Anything that will help me get faster or use my powers better.”

Rose smiled and nodded her head. She was not all that surprised that Velocity had decided to join although she was at how quickly she had jumped at the chance, but when she heard how she wanted to study up on the Flash she realized why. Well perhaps it was one of the reasons. She was sure she had also joined to help out people. "Perhaps Dr. Roquette can help you. She's our specialist in metahuman medicine and genetics, and if anyone knows about helping you control or even improve your powers it'd be her. I'll warn you, she's a little quirky, even for our crowd."

Carin looked at her in puzzlement but allowed herself to be led to meet the woman and was surprised when she saw a woman in a flashy sports jacket over a lab coat, with sneakers and smiley face earrings. The jacket wasn't even from this decade, it looked like something you would see in a Disco. Actually he was sure she had seen her somewhere before. Then she remembered her from the brief time she had been here before. This was the person who had taken charge of Kaldur. It seemed she had been fated to be here the way she kept meeting people from that day. She made a mental note to go and check how the Atlantean was later and then focused on what Rose was saying again.

"Velocity this is Dr. Roquette. Serling, this is our new recruit Velocity," Rose said making the introductions. "She's replacing Silver Bullet as our resident speedster after he resigned the other day."

"She has some questions about speed and the Flash. I thought you might be able to help her out?"

Serling smiled at her and then nodded. "I can do that. Follow me and we can rap about tripping the light fantastic."

Carin had no idea what she had just said, but she assumed she had just agreed to talk to her about what she had asked. Saying goodbye to Rose she followed Serling into an office decorated with a mixture of scientific equipment and 70's memorabilia. She was directed to sit in a chair and then Serling smiled at her. "So what do you want to know?"

Carin didn't know where to start. She had so many questions about both the speed force and the Flash. Like how he had manipulated it in so many ways to perform all those tricks of his, how he had managed to run so fast, were those rumors of him being able to travel in time true and just how had he trained himself in the first place? Still she decided to confine herself to the most important ones.

“What I really want to know is how to get better. I thought if I knew how the Flash had trained himself I might be able to do something similar. After all that's how one learns is it not. I also would love to learn a few of his secret's about manipulating my body. You know to pull of stunts like vibrating through walls, creating whirlwinds with just my arms or hands and other speed tricks. I have tried a few but let's just say the results left a lot to be desired,” she grinned sheepishly.

Serling chuckled. She could well imagine some of the results. She had seen some tests of high speed equipment that had failed and could imagine what someone who could generate speeds almost 100x as fast could do. "Well I can dig that! I am sure I can find the skinny on Flash and share it with you. We will have you up and running to the max as soon as possible."

Carin still wasn't quite sure what she was talking about but it sounded like she was going to help her and that was all she needed to know. It seemed like her decision to join was going to pay off in a big way.[/QUOTE]

 

[Deleted member 1306910]

Central City, Kobra Crisis

The lights were out in this part of town. The streets were quiet as whispers, while deadly shadows stalked them fearlessly. In the abandoned parking complex, in an inner chamber made of poured stone, as secure as any bunker, a hulking form brooded in darkness lit only by his own inner flame. The embers smouldered.

A bank of cctv monitors were arrayed against the far wall, all networked together to a bank of computers sitting in a half circle in the middle of the large concrete room. A young man with long messy ginger hair sat in a battered but comfortable office chair in the center of the semi-circle of computers, his eyes roving.

"Well, big man, I know what you're thinking."

In the dimness, a huge form wreathed in crackling fire shifted uncomfortably it seemed. A head lifted, revealing the suggestion of a human face, complete with glowing orange eyes. The eyes locked on the cctv images of carnage and tyranny from the city outside.

"Of course you do, Dash. You're smart."

The ginger haired man took his wire rimmed glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't need to be smart, I just have to know you."

The deep rumble of the lava man's voice rolled out again.
"People are suffering."

Blue eyes opened and looked at the brimstone figure. "People are always suffering, Brag. We talked about this. You can't save people if your dead."

Braggock rose from his crouch, towering almost to the high ceiling. He wore a deep blue oversized hoodie with red and gold superman logo on the front. His legs were covered by grey sweatpants. His feet were bare.

"You saved me. Watch out for me. We help people."

"We help our own people]/i]. The poor people, the people The Flash doesn't have time for. We help our own and stay hidden."

The smouldering ember-man stood silently for a moment. "You took me out of the stone. Treated me like a man. Helped me remember who I was."

"I did that because it was the decent thing to do! I came here to make this abandoned site my hideout and found a stone man stuck in a hole. What was I supposed to do?"

Braggock grunted. "Decent thing. Dangerous. Didn't know me. Didn't know myself."

Dashiel looked at his friend helplessly, memories crowding him.

The Manchuck Building Company had left the parking complex standing, the property caught between the contractors, the owners and the state who were investigating the incident a year ago. It was a wreck and not safe for anyone, but everyone knew that the local homeless people often camped there...

Dashiel Rusk was not your average homeless man. He chose to live on the street, to squat in abandoned buildings, to live off the grid. But with his skills, it wasn't the risk it was for other people. He pulled his battered old van into the parking complex and got out to walk the place, looking for the perfect site.

The fireball that had collapsed the top three floors of the massive complex, blasting half of it into rubble, had melted a hole right through the center of it. Dash walked to the edge of the perfectly circular hole, looking down into the depths of the blackened pit. Far down there, way past the foundation of the structure, heat still glowed reddish/orange.

Over the next few hours, Dash mapped the structure, walking the place from floor to floor, upper levels on down. When he got to the ground level, he smirked in satisfaction, having discovered that the center of the place had a hollow complex for elevator shafts and stairwells. Plenty of room to make himself a nice little home and base of operations.

Out of curiosity, Dash walked over to the melted edges of the hole, peering down again. He thought he heard something from down there...

Thump-Thump
Thump-Thump
Thump-Thump

Dash felt his own heartbeat speed up as he realized that was exactly what he was hearing. A heart beating. From the hole. From the fire.

He went back to his van and got some gear, then started up his laptop, hacking into the city planning office and perusing the blue prints of the parking complex, as well as cross referencing the nearby sewer and utility system.

His suspicions were proven correct, there was access to the meteor hole from the sewers. Dash put on his hip waders and headed down...

After a some time making his way through cleared tunnels and past access blocks, he found his way to the edge of the hole, also finding that the fire damage down here was much more excessive. The concrete was melted and charred, in places it had been so dried out that it flaked off in his hands...

Dash climbed down in to the blackened glass of the impact crater. Warm orange heat still radiated from parts of the glimmering, cracked surfaces of the cocoon-like space. In the exact center of the cavern, was the perfectly preserved form of a large man...like a statue of some ancient god, rendered in volcanic glass...

Dash used the hooked end of his prying bar to touch the statue. It's eyes flashed orange fire and a very human scream erupted from it's massive chest.

Dash looked away from Braggock, knowing that they were both reliving the same experience, of when Brag had first awakened. When Dash had chipped him loose from the stone womb beneath the earth and brought him up to the light...like being born again, just over 9 months after being hit by a meteor from space and thought killed instantly...

But he hadn't been killed. Timothy Braggock was very much alive, if no longer human. Dashiel had spent the last 9 months finding out who his new friend was, or had been. And they both had attempted to discover who and what Braggock was now. The only answer for certain, was someone who protected others. A hero. Despite Dash's constant warnings against it.

Sighing, Dashiel nodded and clapped his hands as if to dust them off. "Alright big guy. You can go out, but I'll be monitoring you the whole time and if I signal you to come home, you do it!"

"Yes, Dash. Thank you, Dash."

To Be Continued...

 

[ChasNicollette]

5-1-5-0.

~Later the same day, Willies Bar and Grill~​

Jo and her crew were kicking it hard. They'd already finished one bottle of whisky and Lord knew how many beers. Old Willie didn't even growl at them for bringing her boys Dirk and Gim with them. He knew the coon hounds weren't gonna be trouble. Least no more trouble than the people they were running with. Her adopted brothers, the Nash boys, and their girl friends, and Tina. Tina with her long black, black hair, and those blue eyes that you could almost swim in. And damn, when she wore that hair in those pig tails! Jo laughed at one of Mickey's jokes and shook off that feeling of missing something. Just another part of her screwed up head. Jo was more of an in the minute kind of girl. Memories were a pain in the ass. She snatched Randy's beer and chugged it. The night was just starting and Jo planned on having a great one.......

Chase's GNX pulled to a stop outside Willies, gravel crunching under the tires, and she and Helligan got out, Chase adjusting her sunglasses.

A superhero in bright, tight colors wafted down from the sky, gravel crunching under the soles of his boots almost as loudly as under that bad-ass Buick.

"...so basically you can lift things with your mind," Helligan continued, as though picking up a conversation from earlier, which she was, "but only if you're using your body?"

Superboy frowned. "Okay, yeah, but it sounds stupid if you say it like that."

"Cut the chatter," Chase harrumphed.

"So not the boss of me," Superboy frowned. "Superman made sure I got emancipated before he-- anyway, I'm not government property anymore."

"As a licensed and registered superhero under the Titans banner," Chase replied, "you are certified as a de facto law enforcement agent, deputized by The DEO. And since The New Justice League is busy with a recruitment drive, you were next on my list."

"Fine, fine, chill out Queen Elsa," Superboy rolled his eyes. "Let's just get this Mason-Dixon madness over quick, I haven't been sleeping great the last few nights and I got a pillow back at Titans Tower with my 'S' on it."

"Hang back for now," Helligan suggested. "You're our reserve big gun. It would be better if we could talk this out with the locals rather than letting this turn into something that looks like the super-Hatfields versus the super-McCoys."

"Fine, fine," Superboy shrugged, holding up his hands in an I surrender sort of posture. "I'm more of a tac-teke first, ask questions whenever sort of guy, but I don't wanna go any deeper into The Hee-Haw Zone unless I have to."

"'Hee-Haw Zone,'" Chase shook her head as she approached the bar, leaving Superboy leaning bored against the Buick. "Why is it that metagenes always seem to come with some sort of prerequisite wise-ass gene?"

"You don't have one," Helligan noted, sagely.

"Exception that proves the rule," Chase replied, without missing a beat.

And stepped into the bar. "Hey... y'all," she called out coolly. "Looking for Jo Nash. We'd like a word. Just a word. Not looking to ruffle any feathers."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Manifest Destiny.

Jump Island.
Just offshore from Jump City, San Francisco.
Kinda near Alcatraz.
Days After Kobra.
Morning, Pacific Time.
After This.
********​

"...is this gonna take too long?" Silver Bullet wondered, hands on his hips. "We both got class in like twenty."

"Speak for yourself," Captain Marvel chuckled. "I was gonna skip class and get summore sleep."

"Dude," Hiro scowled. "No-one sleeps as much as you, I swear to all the gods in your magic acronym."

"This is different," Cap insisted. "Last couple of nights I've barely slept a wink. Messed up dreams."

Hiro paused, and frowned. "...you too? Weird. Hope it's not a PTSD thing."

BAMF!

...and then Zatanna appeared in a shimmer of light and a puff of smoke.

"If it is, I know a good therapist."

Hiro stopped and stared. "...why was I in such a hurry to leave, again?"

Captain Marvel rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. "Here we go again. World's Mightiest Wingman."

"In answer to your initial question," Loren Jupiter smiled, "this shouldn't take too long at all. Just a brief mixer to introduce our prospective roster to each other, get a feel for each other, that's all. With my access to fabrication technologies pioneered by Cyborg, the construction of Titans Tower West will take less than a week on this very island. It behooves us to be ready to hit the ground running."

"Hey, Loren," Zatanna smiled, taking her hat off and kissing Jupiter on the cheek. "Long time! Too long. Sorry if I'm late, I had a thing out in New York."

"My dear Zatanna, welcome," Jupiter smiled cheerfully at her.

Hiro elbowed Cap, muttering dejectedly. "Rich old white guys get all the privileges now."

"Dude," Cap agreed simply.

"You're not late at all," Loren reassured Zatanna. "You're not even the last one here. We're still waiting on--"

An emerald light flashed over the San Francisco skyline, and then Teen Lantern swooped down, braking hard and landing gingerly. "Hey, I'm-- I'm sorry I'm--"

She blinked at Zatanna. "Oh. Hey, Zee. You made good time!"

Zatanna grinned back. "Tricks of the trade."

"Excellent," Jupiter nodded, which means we're just waiting on one more person, then we can get started. "Admittedly, I also wanted to recruit a local archer, but he's already been approached by The New Justice League and I wasn't sure if he wanted to join two teams so early in his career. There's another Titan who lives in this area, but she doesn't socialize if she can help it, though she's always welcome-- reminds me of my daughter."

Then there came a rush like air through wings, and another fellow descended, this one wearing white and gold, dressed like something out of a Meso-American myth rebooted for modern sensibilities. Which he kind of was, more or less.

"Hey, everyone," he smiled. "Sorry about any hold-up, I haven't had opportunity yet to really try out the suit's supersonic flight capabilities over cross-country distances before, my training grounds were sort of insular. I should have more a hang of it next time. (Also, I've been having these weird dreams, I hope they're not some sort of prophecy.)"

"Not to worry," Loren beckoned cheerfully. "That's everyone."

"We have Silver Bullet and Captain Marvel, based out of Berkeley, just across the Bay."

"We have Zatanna Zatara, famed occult specialist and stage magician even at her young age, from right here in San Francisco."

"We have Teen Lantern, from the Emerald City of Seattle, Washington."

"And here we have Aztek, newcomer to Vanity, Oregon."

"I'd like to welcome you all to the inaugural meeting of The Titans West!"

 

[Wyldfire]

And stepped into the bar. "Hey... y'all," she called out coolly. "Looking for Jo Nash. We'd like a word. Just a word. Not looking to ruffle any feathers."

Ah hell, Feds. Only a Fed would talk like that. Jo looked at Tina and said "Get the "kids" outta here for me please sweetie?" Tina took tyhe dogs by their leads and headed for the back door. All it took next was for Jo to look at her two brothers and gave them a toss of her head and they were up with their women and heading back out too. At that point Jo put on her glasses and stood up with a smile. She turned to the Feds. "Y'all wanna take this outside? Or are y'all gonna pay for the damages so Willy can redecorate? Again? Last time it was th Locals had ta pay..."