The Last Daughter of Krypton - IC

Rose, Pete, and Chloe

Rose made to follow, but Pete chucked a Nilla Wafer at the back of her head and she whipped around and snatched it from the air.

She blinked at him.

"Rosy Mac," Pete murmured. "'Keep It Loose, Keep It Tight.'"

Rose nodded firmly.

She threw the cookie back at him, but instead of Pete catching it, it was Chloe.

Chloe, on the other hand, just nodded to Rose.

And Rose again nodded.

No words. No lyrics. Just nods.

And then Rose followed J'onn J'onzz.

In her head, she could have sworn she heard Ambassador Kosh.

So it begins....

No pressure.
 
Once outside, the Martian Manhunter turned to Rose.

"You will follow me through the air to a farm outside Smallville," he told her, "where we will wait in the loft of the barn. This is a place special to the one we seek, and it is there she will come to us."

He bent down so he could look into her eyes. "I sense a trepidation in you, Rose. You are uncertain?" He smiled, shaking his head, "Var-Sen trusted you with the Crystal because he saw something phenomenal in you. He believed in your strength, your power, your love for your friends and for yourself. I have no doubt that his trust was well-placed."

And with that, he lifted into the air, his cape giving a flutter as the atmosphere parted for him as he defied gravity.

Men weren't meant to fly.

But J'onn J'onzz was no man.

Tonight, as he had vowed with the others whom he now allied himself with, he had become Earth's servant. Her protector. And should it need be, he would become the instrument of her vengeance.
 
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Merick looked around. For the first time he felt that they were in trouble. His heart ached. "Ok, so... Do we start assembling what we need? Or do you have everything you think you will need in your bags?" Merick looked at Chloe, hoping his fear was not blatant. Hoping he was not unequal to the tasks put before him.

"Merick, you and Chloe start your plans. I have a conversation I need to have with your Grandfather. I will be outside until your both set." With that Dale left. He was angry. He was tired.

Dale walked out into the yard of Wayne Manor. He took his cell phone out and dialed a number. It rang only once.

"Hello son. Reconsider did you? The voice on the other end was raspy but strong. It had an incredible strength that seemed subdued but just barely. "How's Merick? Long time since I have gotten to spend time with the boy."

"I don't like what you are. Or what you have in the works. But I also know your blood. I will help you on this. After that. You leave me, Marcy, and my son alone. Is it understood?" Dale didn't attempt to hide the hatred and contempt in his voice. He knew his father would see through it if he did. Instead he gave his father exactly what he knew he expected. Outrage. "If I am going to do this, I will need supplies. I can't exactly do what you want on my Dell. I will be in Granville within the hour. Your techs need to give my whatever I ask. No questions. Also, I need the dossiers you have been working on. I can't work blind. Have it ready in an hour." Dale didn't give Edmund time to answer. He simply hung up the phone. He knew he was needed too much for Edmund to deny him what he asked. Now he just needed to figure out what that was.

Dale flipped open his cell and dialed another number. In Sao Paulo, Brazil a phone rang. A man answered but did not speak. " I want $100 thousand. Untraceable. Account under Al Beckett. I want a debit in the holding box by Midnight eastern time. Fee will be as usual plus 15%. Protocol 16." Dale hung up. He had hoped he would never need to use his father's money. Or the contacts he had made in his other life. But Merick and Chloe may need to go to ground. If they did they needed money. Dale sat on the curb and rubbed his temples.
 
Damian

Black Hood just stood up and started towards his car. "If you want a ride out of this wasteland of a crater, I'm it." He then hit the automatic locks on his keychain and the auto ignition. The Hemi roars to life. He then turns to Gabe and says, "We will find your daughter. I swear on my father's and adopted brother's graves."

Black Hood then opens the driver side door to the black Dodge Charger. He sinks back into the seat lost in thought. With all this chaos the only possible person or thing that would be in this area and fast enough to get This girl to safety would be J'onn J'onzz the manhunter from Mars or Kara Zor-El the one he was sent to watch. That would mean that J'onzz is the one behind the Titan initiative being used to start the first Justice League. At least that was what going through Black Hoods mind. Who is to say because of this that the Titan initiative was dictated for Dick Wally Donna Speedy and Aqualad. Damian never got the chance to go through the Titan initiative. But best medic to get to in a short amount of time would be the Wayne Estate and Alfred Pennyworth. He looked at the device again Human unrecognizable radioactive particlals and trace unidenifiable DNA strand. Manhunter your skin does shed just like a humans.
 
Rose

She paused, and wiped at her face a bit, and took a deep breath.

Stage fright.

Rose McCrimmon flew after The Martian Manhunter, biting her lip and going over her lines, her fingers grasping The Crystal with a white-knuckled grip.

What The Hell would she say?

'Hi,' she'd go, 'my name's Rose. You're an extraterrestrial Chosen One prophesied to take down an archfoe of cosmic proportions and usher in a new age. D'you wanna grab a coffee?'

Or maybe: 'John Smith sent me. It's time to Save The Day.'

She shouldn't have to do this.

It should have to be someone else.

But then again.

Var-Sen had believed in her. J'onn J'onzz told her so.

And superheroics weren't just about beating down the bad guys.

And she was a superhero, now. What else could she be?

Sometimes Saving The Day meant giving the good guys a hug.

Rose gripped The Crystal tighter.

She flew.
 
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Chloe, Ceri, Pete, and Jamie

Chloe smiled encouragingly at Merick. Even though she was feeling decidedly in over her head herself, she smiled at him.

Because they were Outsiders, and all they had was each other.

"I'm pretty sure I can mount a decent search,"
she suggested. "But I didn't get a chance to ask J'onzz... I'm really not sure what I'm looking for. I mean, I know, extraterrestrial artificial intelligence, killer computer from the blackest depths of deepest space, duh, natch, got it. But I don't exactly know how its mind works."

"Oh," Jamie murmured, setting down the takeaway box and crossing his arms over his chest, a hard hard look in his bespectacled brown eyes. "But I do."

Pete blinked. "Yeah? How's that? Y'all're bosom buddies with The New Dark Lord of Cyberspace?"

Jamie smiled thinly. "The trouble with computers is they're only as good as their programmers. No matter how advanced they can make themselves-- see also Seed A.I.'s --the initial groundwork has to have been laid by organic minds. And organic minds, having no other basis for comparison, almost invariably structure their processor's processes upon organic modes of thought."

He gestured to Kyle. "This lad here just confessed that his family's pet A.I. had his matrices based off of the neural pathways of a 'Dr. Schlagel's son.' In England, we called them 'brain algorithms,' but it boils down to the same thing. Artificial Intelligence and Natural Intelligence are far more compatible than ever you'd think. And my natural intelligence? Has had a look inside The Belly of The Beast."

Chloe stared at him. "Who are you?"

"Jamie Hamilton,"
he grinned, a shadowed light gleaming in those dark dark eyes. "Doctor. Pleased as Punch."

"Likewise,"
Chloe murmured, and kicked a chair out from the table, sliding it towards the man in the blue suit. "Have a seat, Doctor."

And Jamie Hamilton sat beside Chloe Sullivan.

Ceri leaned against the counter again, again beside Pete Ross.

Ceri smiled encouragingly at Merick. "Strap in, boyo. Our time'll come."

The sound of impossibly-fast typing fingers filled the kitchen.
 
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Gabe

Gabe hesitated for a moment.

He looked left. He looked right.

Where would he go?

It was the middle of the night, and he could barely see six feet in front of his face when the clouds embraced the moon.

He worried about leaving his car here on the beach but... but who would steal it?

They'd have to put a brand-new engine in at this point if they wanted to hotwire the thing.

All those times, all those times in his life he had told Chloe to never get into a car with a stranger...

His head pounded harder, and he rubbed his forehead with one hand as he sighed and shoved himself down hard into the black Dodge's passenger seat.

(He wondered what was under the car's black hood, that roared so fiercely, so predatory into the night.)

"Yeah,"
he murmured. "Let's get out of here. Please. Please help me find my little girl."

And I hope to God,
he continued, silently, that you yourself didn't put your father and your adoptive brother into their graves. Because you're just damn scary enough to be the type.
 
Dale was on his way into the Manor, when his phone vibrated. Me flipped it open, and read the text.

Issue fixed. Documents ready.

Dale was impressed. It had been maybe 10 minutes. Dale walked in and headed for the Kitchen.

Merick, Chloe, I have made some arrangements. Downside is, I need to get to Metropolis to get the goods. Merick, I will be back. If you need me call? Also, is there anything you two are going to need for tech? I think I can mange just about anything you may need."

Merick looked at his father. He was a different man. He looked defeated. He looked... old.

"How long this gonna take? I mean I dont know how long we can stay put."

"Few hours. I need to go to Tenn-Tech in Granville as well. I should be back by morning. Faster if I can. You guyd be careful. Call me if you need my viewing. Merick, can you pop me to the office. My car was fine and I will need it."

Merick looked at Chloe and smiled. "Be right back." Merick grabbed his father by his arm. There were two Swooshes in such close proximity they were almost one. Merick was there and back again in just a second.

Dale stood in front of his office regurgitating the chicken salad he had for lunch. He walked over to his car and started it. He drove off into the night. Hoping he would not be gone too long.
 
Standing at the bottom of the basement stairs, he searched for a bag. He had used the bag before. It had a red "R" on it, and contained equipment that Pete would need.

If there were terrorrists, Bruce would make sure that no one got hurt.

Finally he spotted the bag, sitting on the ground. He picked it up, opened it, and pulled out a black jacket with a red "R" on the chest. He threw the jacket, an extra ski mask, and some nightsticks in the bag.

He returned upstairs. Alfred met him in the hallway. Alfred, I'm going to ask that you take care of the guests for me while I'm gone. He asked him.

Masta Wayne, why might I ask that you are doing this? Alfred asked.

Because Alfred, if I don't go with them, who can make sure they're safe? He replied. He headed past Alfred down the hallway.

Masta Wayne, Alfred started. Bruce turned to see his butler with a morose face. if you spend all your time watching over others, who's going to watch over you? He finished.

I've got you Alfred. That's all I need. He said before joining the others.

Pete, this is yours. Put it on. He demanded as he tossed he bag at Pete's feet. He walked over to Chloe.

I need you to do something for me. He said to her. Bruce stood there, standing over her, his eyes narrow, his voice low, his posture solid. Can I ask something of you?
 
Rose (in honour of Jump, Little Children)

'De la de lay la'

What do I say?
Rose wondered, for the ump-hundredth time, her hair wafting in the wind of her flight just as J'onzz' blue cape wafted and fluttered in the wind of his. What could I possibly say?

Kyle, bless him, had offered to help her.

But this was one of those Destiny things, wasn't it? And that sort of thing you had to go alone.

'If that is the way it must be done then that is the way you must do it.'

'It's up to you
For every passing day
To not let the past pass away

It's up to you
Now that you understand
To take those who don't by the hand'


She glanced down as they flew, watched the world slide by beneath in the eerie colours of her infrared vision. Saw the pockmarks of craters, of meteoric impacts, saw the flickers of smouldering flame.

''Cause you can see it coming
You can see it coming
You can see their light fade
Beneath the stars

It's up to you
Not to sing along
When all of the feeling is gone'


The world had changed today, not just Smallville. That which had been plaguing and blessing Smallville had this day bled out into the world entire, and this young woman, this Chosen One, was to be the secular saviour of this changed world.

''Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this requiem
'Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this silent requiem

De la de lay la'


Rose glanced down at The Crystal in her hand, having never looked at it before with eyes that saw heat and power instead of visible light.

...she saw...

Strings of energy. Warmth.

Power stored away, waiting for just the right touch, just the right circumstance.

Power that could hurt or kill or heal or rescue.

Data encoded on the submolecular level.

And Hope.

'It's up to you
To understand your age
To not let the years charge a wage

It's up to you
To see it in the eyes
Of all those who don't realize

'Cause you can see it coming
You can see it coming
You can see them high, high above the stars

It's up to you
Not to sing along
When all of the feeling is gone

'Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this requiem
'Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this silent requiem

And I can see that look on your face
When you don't sing along, you don't sing along
And I can see that look on your face
When you don't sing along, you don't sing along

'Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this requiem
'Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this requiem
'Cause we don't sing the same song anymore
Now you're offering this silent requiem

De la de lay la

And I can see that look on your face
When you don't sing along, you don't sing along
And I can see that look on your face
When you don't sing along, you don't sing along
And I can see that look on your face'


Rose McCrimmon flew into The Future, flew towards The Girl of Tomorrow, whomever she might be, and J'onn J'onzz led the way.
 
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Chloe, Jamie, Pete, and Ceri

Doctor Tennylson offered them aid and succor and gear, then, with his face and soul fallen into shadow.

"We're okay for now, I think," Chloe thanked him, gently, appreciative, apologetic. "But I may need to take you up on that later on."

Merick departed and returned with a protracted Swoosh, perfectly smooth landing.

Chloe found herself rather impressed, and she grinned at him. "You've been practising, there, Launchpad."

Jamie was staring at the screen of Chloe's Gateway like it held the secrets to life itself and he was desperate to decode them.

"I've always been a bit vague about money,"
he murmured. "But, erm, seems to me, you want to start up a campaign to swallow the entire Earth into the depths of tyranny, you're going to need a little bit of funding. Can't even run for PoTUS these days without a billionaire in your pocket, let alone Worldwide Dictator-for-Life."

"Basic principle," Chloe nodded. "Follow the money."

"Right," Jamie nodded, and then frowned. "Where do you get money?"

"The question is,"
Chloe corrected him, "where do you get money in sufficient quantity to overthrow The Earth, without anyone on Earth noticing? I mean, element of surprise, right?"

Jamie nodded, digesting this. "Well. When I was back-hacking the second version of The Thinker Virus--"

"You tinkered with The Thinker?" Chloe arched an eyebrow.

"He was something of a stinker," Jamie admitted. "But I nabbed him: hook, line, and sinker."

"Sorry, you were saying," Chloe grinned.

Jamie pursed his lips, squinched his eyes. "When I was back-hacking the second version of The Thinker Virus, he tried to scarper behind the firewalls of various corporate intranets, tried to hide himself in the vast quantities of data. Divided himself up into tiny packets and disseminated himself throughout the LANs. Part of catching him that time was finding all the places he hid and gathering him together in one place."

"You know what that reminds me of?"
Chloe frowned, remembering. "Office Space. That thing Michael Bolton did with the fractional cents--"

Jamie grinned, ear to ear. "--an idea which they, in turn, borrowed from the third Warrior Angel movie. Not the best in the franchise, but it was better than the fourth one and besides which Richard Pryor's performance was genius."

"Trouble is," Chloe muttered, "both Richard Pryor and Michael Bolton tripped all sorts of red flags, got caught holding the bag. Swiping that large a chunk of change just can't go unnoticed."

"Right,"
Jamie nodded, adjusting his glasses, "if you nick it all from one place, yeah. But remember: 'various corporate intranets.'"

Chloe winced. "So. There's a lot of businesses in the world with vast multinational holdings. You want I should just start with Kord Industries and work up, or Roxxon and work down?"

"Yeah, no, right,"
Jamie shook his head. "Quite so. Erm. No. Can't go searching willy-nilly, we'll be here 'till Doomsday. What we need is a sample of this boggart's 'footprint,' the mark all hackers-- virtual or otherwise --leave on the cyberscape as they pass. We need one specific place he's hacked, first."

Chloe frowned, and called up her favourite newsfeed site. "Let's see if any businesses have reported site lag, or even loss of funds. 24-hour world."

And there, on the newsfeed site, was a link to the Nation page of LNN.com, Luthor News Network's website...

On that selfsame page, it was just a footnote really yet, reports were coming in, breaking story.

A single unstoppable figure had broken into a secure government facility in New York, torn a vault open with his bare hands, slaughtered guards without mercy.

There were both pictures and footage linked, but the descriptions of the dead guards by themselves were enough to make both Chloe and Jamie recoil.

"Sounds like John Smith gone wrong,"
Chloe murmured. "Strong, fast, unbreakable. Sounds like Zod."

"Beastie's getting his hands dirty,"
Jamie frowned. "Not what we're looking for. We need his lackey, we need that footprint."

"Yeah, but,"
Chloe murmured, glancing at the scientist briefly, "how did he know what he'd find in that vault? He risked his element of surprise, he must have known there was something important in there. How would he know that?"

"Ah,"
Jamie nodded, "I grok where you're going with this. Reconnaissance. Digital reconnaissance."

Chloe nodded, and began weaving her way through The Internet to the computers in that same government facility. "The BRAINIAC's been in there."

"Boggart in the wardrobe,"
Jamie muttered.

She accessed the facility's servers with remarkable speed, dove into their file directory. "Now we start sifting code."

Just then, Bruce Wayne re-emerged. At least, one would hope it was Bruce Wayne.

He looked like he was dressed to play a Navy SEAL in a LARP campaign.

He looked serious, and when he spoke, he sounded like a different creature entirely.

"Pete, this is yours. Put it on." Bruce demanded as he tossed the bag at Pete's feet.

Bruce, or the shadow-clad thing that was now Bruce, walked over to Chloe.

"I need you to do something for me." he said to her. Bruce stood there, standing over her, his eyes narrow, his voice low, his posture solid. "Can I ask something of you?"

Pete set down the box of cookies, picked up the bag at his feet, rummaged through it, eyebrow arched.

He drew out the jacket, and shouldered into it. 'Bout the right size. He nodded, impressed, toyed with the zipper.

Beside Pete, Ceri's eyes were very very wide.

The logo on the bag. The logo on the jacket.

She had that very same logo tattooed on her back between her shoulder-blades and right now that tattoo was prickling something awful.

Pete took out the mask, and shoved it into the jacket's pocket. "Gonna need that later," he muttered sardonically, "for when I knock over the gas station on Route 16."

And then he found the nightsticks, and his face turned a very bewildered shape.

He glanced at Ceri, held up one of the nightsticks between thumb and forefinger like he might have held a dead rat by the tail.

"Damn," he muttered. "You know, right? The first thing a black man thinks of when he sees a nightstick?"

Ceri nodded, even though she looked like she'd seen a ghost, and she smiled almost apologetically at him.

"History repeating itself?"
she wondered.

"Tch," Pete grunted, and then twirled the nightstick, took a couple of practise swings with it, forehands and backhands. "Beats goin' in with empty hands, though."

He slid the nightsticks into his belt at his back and zipped up the jacket, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Bruce and Ross," he murmured. "'B' and 'R'. Could be worse."

"Aye," Ceri nodded, though she could practically feel her Great-Uncle Dai's ghostly hand upon her shoulder, looking at that symbol over Pete's heart. "Could surely be worse."

Jamie seamlessly took over the keyboard as Chloe stood to gaze into Bruce's eyes. Those unmistakable dragonslayer eyes.

He was, in his way, scarier and darker than The Wraith would ever be.

Not that The Wraith wasn't plenty scary.

But Bruce, right now, was on a whole 'nother level.

"What do you need me to do?"
Chloe asked him, unafraid.
 
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Damian

He looked over the GPS and then pulled out a PDA and linked it in, He then checked the Local Whitepages over the World Wide Web and found the name Pennyworth and then set the cordinates to the Address.

"No, I was simply used as the bait. The guy who done it thought he was the Antichrist. A maniac who makes the local Torchy Thompson look like he is the local Fire marshal. Damian answered. He followed with his own question, "Ever heard the question, 'Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moon light."

He then puts the Charger in reverse and yanks the car easily into the opposite direction then paddles it into first following the road back to town, be lining it to Wayne Manner.

"Grab the bag in the back seat and hand me the spare cowl. I think someone may be needing it if my investigations are right." Black Hood says as he taps the PDA into voice mode. He says to the PDA, "Search... Robbery+Unexplained+Assalent..***** www.lnn.net"

Black Hood then looks towards Gabe and says "Hope you have a strong stomach."

He hits an old hay trailer and vaults a good 50 feet landing on a side road drifting back in line with the dirt road taking the shortest route to Wayne Mannor.
 
Gabe

Gabe nodded and smiled at The Black Hood, fearfully and tolerantly.

'Torchy Thompson?' 'The Antichrist?'

This man's manner of speech was just unhinged enough to merit a VIP room at Belle Reve. This syntax and vocab coming out of that leathery mask with that spooky-ass voice just made the whole thing that much more surreal.

"'The Devil?'"
Gabe repeated. "'The pale moonlight?' No, no-one's ever asked me that. But this one time, a friend of Chloe's told me the secret of one hand clapping... damned if I can remember what he said, though."

Gabe did what he was told, and quick. If he were riding in a car with the heavy from a slasher flick, well, the only characters who ever survived that sort of situation were the busty blonde girls who wielded fire-axes to defend themselves. Gabe had neither the cleavage nor the ax-proficiency to attain that sort of victory.

He reached into the back, grabbed the bag, and unzipped the top, reaching in carefully and extricating the mask.

Another creepy leather number.

Do I have to put this on? Gabe wondered, that hysteria resurfacing and bringing his own thoughts dangerously close to crazy. Is this some kind of recruitment drive for your weird Goth sex fetish cult? Because, really, I haven't dated since Moira and my tastes are a little more mainstream.

Then the engine bayed like a cast-iron wolf and the vehicle soared like it had been jet-propelled and the world dropped out from under them. Gabe Sullivan screamed like a small child, throwing down the bag and the "cowl" and grabbing at the dashboard for dear life...

"YEEEHAAAAAAGGHHH!"


They hit the ground and roared down a dirt road and Gabe clutched at his chest.

"You!"
he panted. "Psycholunatic! Almost! Gave me a coronary!"

He shook his head. "I'm just a good ol' boy," he mumbled, slipping that much deeper into his hysteria. "Never meanin' no harm."

Gabe fixed The Black Hood with his most fierce, vindictive expression. "You. Are lucky I didn't just wet myself all over your seats. Because holy Hell if I didn't have to pee already, I sure as holy Hell do now."
 
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Damian

Black Hood drifts back onto the major highway giving his GPS a run for its money not expecting such a short cut. He then warns Gabe, "Dont step on the cowl it may be armor plated inside but it still contains a great deal of sensitive circuitry inside it."

He then pulls into the driveway of the Wayne Estate. Damian unlocks the doors for them. he closes his eyes for a moment. and thinks to himself keeping his lips sealed breathing out heavy to prepare himself, "I am about to meet my father raw, Two years younger than I am now, not jaded by the cruelties of such psycopaths as the Joker, Two-Face, Riddler, Poison Ivy and Mr Freeze. "

He then gets out and looks at Gabe.My stunt as you put it just saved us thirty minutes on our drive here. So please follow me, and bring the cowl and bag."

He without waiting for an answer begins to walk to the front door.
 
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Kyle

I listened to Mr. McCrimmon and Chloe as they turned cyberspace into their playground. The more I listened the more worried I got. The video was especially disturbing. one because the Bad Guy had incredible power! I could maybe move that damn door but there was no way I was ripping it off the wall. Two because he had no fear of the cameras. It was like he wanted the world to see his power, and tremble.

Then Bruce came down.

Looking like a toon from MetalGear. He tossed a bag to Pete and I got a look at Mrs. McCrimmons face when he did it, and I did not like the way her eyes widened out. Like she was shocked.

I went to walk over to her when my watch buzzed, meaning I was getting a call. I put on my shades and saw who it was.

Aww crap!

"I'm gonna step out a second guys, got a call."

I then stepped outside the doorway and hit the accept button on my watch. The mic came down and connected.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN???? DIDN'T YOU KNOW THAT PARTS OF A PLANET WERE FALLING ON THE TOWN AND YOU WERE OFF IN ANOTHER DIMENSION OR SOMETHING!!!!!"

"Hi sis. I'm OK, just needed to be in my work clothes at that time. I did check in with Gram after the shower, but something big is going down right now. I need your help."

"Whats going on? I know you checked with Grandma DeRosa but she said you blew in and out in about two minutes. She was worried. Also, leave a damn note if your gonna rip the med kit of the wall! You have no idea of the mental gymnastics I went through explaining that to security. The guys are still antsy."


"Crap, I didn't think about that. sorry. OK, this is gonna sound weird, even from me, but we have a alien invasion on our hands."

"You have got to be kidding."

"Nope. Check LNN. There is video. Also, it seems we have a alien rogue AI that came with the Scary Bad Guy, and it has been hacking Megacorps around the world. You need to have Odin do a sweep of our systems."

"Kyle, this is a little hard to believe you know..."

"Hey, your little brother turns into a extra from a bad horror comic and you have a AI in the basement. Compared to that hostile life from beyond is second page on the tabloid."

"Got a point. I'll get Odin on it and you be careful. I'm also activating a Valkyrie strike team. Those systems need a field test anyway before we incorporate them into Stronghold."

"Watch the video first. This may be more than they can handle. You might want to send a medical team up here though. There were some casualties, and it would aggravate the hell out of LuthorCorp if Gen-Tech showed up and started saving the day."

Bekka laughed at that. We both had a deep hatred for how the Luthors operated.

"OK, I'm on it. Be careful little bro. Love you."

"Love you too sis. Bye."

I ended the call and put my glasses back into my pocket, then changed back into Wraith. Something was bothering me. I then walked back into the room.

"I'll be back in a bit, I'm going to do some recon while it's nice and dark."


With that I stepped back into a dim corner of the kitchen, where the lights were off, and let Shadow take me.
 
Ceri and Gabe

Ceri stood there for a moment more, gazing at the "R" symbol on the bag, on the jacket, wanting desperately to ask Bruce where he'd gotten such things...

But the young lad was conversing with the Sullivan girl and, given the grave voice he was putting on, it was obvious that this was an important conversation to him.

But that tiny little circle on her back was still crawling.

Even worse now, than when the alarms had first been raised and the meteors were tumbling down t'wards Smallville.

Her mother sense was tingling, and when Kyle departed in his eerie, shadow-melding manner, that didn't help at all.

She smiled faintly to Marcy, patted Pete on the shoulder, and left the others to it. "Back in a jiff. Just need some fresh air."

She might have heard the car engine roaring into Wayne Manour's drive, she might have not. But that's where she gravitated, following her instincts.

Ceri walked slowly back up the hall to the front of the house, and strode out onto the porch.

A black clad figure walked towards her, lenses covering his eyes, and she walked down the front steps to stand in his path, just out of reach.

The age-old crest of The League of Shadows adorned the bracers on his arms, and his presence made her finely-honed early-warning system scream with worry.

This man being here? This was a bad bad thing.

She knew it, blood and bones, as much as a person could know such a thing by intuition alone.

"Tell me something," she murmured, as she shrugged out of her leather jacket and tossed it to the ground, and tugged on the bottom edge of her black short-sleeved t-shirt. "Are yeh an emissary? A herald? Just a messenger-boy?"

Her hands bunched into fists at her sides, curled up tight.

"Or are yeh an iron fist in a Kevlar glove?" she wondered, as she shifted into a preliminary combat stance. "Sent to kill rather than dissuade? Because yeh should know: this house is marked. It is claimed. And it is defended."

Gabe had been just about to get out of the car and follow the gibberish-spewing maniac when the dark woman emerged from the house.

He decided to stay put, hugging the mask and bag tightly to his chest.

He watched with wide eyes.

He really really had to pee.
 
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Damian

Black hood looked at the woman and saw her ball up her fist and her body tighten. He heard her words and clses his eyes for but a moment. His mind goes into its thought processes Welsh by the sound of her voice. her height he would easily surmise being that being between five foot seven and five foot eight. Weight was going to be tougher her arms looked as though they had very tight muscle structure that came from much use. which would put her closer if not slightly over 120 lbs. His rough guess anyways. He takes out the bolas that Grayson used to use and then unbuttons the sleeves fall down back to long sleeve and pulls the coat off.

He puts the bolas into the back harnesses of the armor. No swords on his person. He was never going to be as good as Bruce or Dick. He knew this, his specialization was cheating to win. But if he were to prove he wasn't league to this woman, he would have to play by the hero rule book for once.

He then cracks his neck and replies, "Would it matter, if i say anything you deem it a lie and as such I am already judged. I am none of those you speak of for I am not League of Assassin."
 
Ceri

"The nature of a man is ill-defined," she murmured, circling first one way, then the other, trickling her eyes up and down him, finding his measure, "though it's often said that what makes a man is his clothes."

She glanced, fixedly, for just a moment, at those telltale bracers.

Made it clear that's what she was looking at.

"You choose to wear The League's crest,"
she murmured, "whatever you call it, Shadows or Assassins... am I to believe that you are some kind of sheep in wolf's clothing?"

She smiled thinly.

"Those are rare creatures indeed,"
she opined. "More frequently, the wolf dresses up as the sheep."
 
J'onn J'onzz descended slowly through the twilight and over the farmstead that lay nestled quietly along the singular, gravel road. A notice to the mailbox by the drive would have seen the word "KENT" printed in fading letters.

The Martian Manhunter, aware that Rose was following him closely, skirted the perimeter of the farm before flying to the open doors of the red barn's loft. He landed lightly on the wooden loft floor, and moved to make room for Rose.

J'onn J'onzz saw the particular usual items that a human girl Kara's age would have collected in the loft over the years. He noted the telescope he had nearly knocked over and wondered if she had ever seen the far away galaxy that had once held her red sun.

He looked to Rose as she alighted upon the floor. He then changed, morphing back into the hat and jacket clad man she had encountered at Wayne Manor.

J'onn J'onzz then closed his eyes, and although they were closed, they shone with light.

Not bioluminescence, but power.

The Martian Manhunter's mind extended from his corporeal form, and it searched out into the night time. It saw the auras and psyches of those living in the world, all of them, and then it focused within a short distance from the barn and found The One.

A bright spot in the darkness of the night was what Kara Zor-El felt like. All of the innocence of childhood and a great sense of wonder, yet she knew nothing of what she was or was about to become.

There was another presence with her, a powerful mind, full of hope and strength as well. This one did not seem to be dangerous or have any malevolent intent, so he left it alone.

But to Kara, to the Last Daughter of Krypton, J'onn J'onzz spoke with his mind.

Answers you seek, Kara, and it is answers that I have. The time has come for you to claim your birthright and take your place among the heroes of the Universe. Seek me out. Follow your thoughts to me, and you shall find the answers you seek. Come now, Kara. It is time for you to start your journey...

J'onn opened his eyes and nodded to Rose.

"She comes."
 
Damian

"I am no sheep but the question what kind of wold am I wouldnt you think. The criminal element are a fearful and superstitious lot. Wouldnt it be more benificial to makethem more afraid of the unknown."" Black Hood responds raising a hand up and shows that most of the league symbols were only bumps under the black heat retardant paint. "These are but tools i learned how to use as a child. anything you see me with serves but one purpose. but then again my words I can see in your eyes fall on deaf ears. So what have you."

Damian removes the lead lined goves and the two Kryptonite rings plaing them in his utility harness. and shakes his shoulders out raising his hands up in a modified stance that could be for keyci or thai boxing.
 
Rose

A chill wrapped around Rose's spine as they flew over The Kent Farm in the dark, just as Rose herself had done just recently.

Why is he.

Why are we even.

Here? Why here? Why are we--

Oh God.


And then the horse crossed the finish line, and Rose's oft-neglected subconscious smacked her upside the head as finally finally finally she put the pieces into place.

Two plus two became four. Finally finally finally.

Kara was warm, like Var-Sen. Like she'd been bathing in pure sunlight.

And when Var-Sen had happened upon her in the halls of the school, he had only had eyes for Kara Kent.

She had that Symbol, the one from The Crystal, on those bracelets she'd worn the other morning, The Symbol that had inexplicably made Rose feel as safe as houses.

That Symbol was on the wall of The Cave.

And she was blonde. Var-Sen gravitated to blondes. (Which meant Pete owed her some money for their little bet, though Rose had never intended to collect...)

Kara Kent is The Chosen One of Krypton?

Unlike that night, however, when Rose had lingered airborne near The Kent's house, J'onn made for the barn, and Rose followed him with a weight growing heavy indeed in the pit of her stomach.

She slipped neatly past the telescope and landed softly on the floor.

Her face felt gaunt, her gaze was stricken.

(She switched off her infrared vision, and saw only with her normal eyes... though she did see slightly better, only slightly, in darkness than might most folk.)

It would be one thing to spring this on a complete stranger. One thing entirely.

It would be another thing entirely to spring this on someone she loved very much. A good friend.

She'd adored Kara's microcosm, adored The Kent Family home, adored the way they loved and smiled and understood each other. Sure, it wasn't perfect, but it was far closer than her unconventional mess of a clan.

This would torpedo Kara's microcosm amidships, and all of that sunlight and beautiful friendship shared on rooftops would be gone forever.

But the world needed The Chosen One of Krypton, this Earth needed her desperately. They had lost John Smith and they needed Kara Kent and her sunlit smile and her secret strength.

The world needed her, no matter what her secret identity was.

J'onn opened his eyes and nodded to Rose, power saturating his human-morphed gaze. "She comes."

Shatterhearted, Rose nodded, and held The Crystal low, tightly gripping it in both hands.

"I'm sorry, Kara," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."
 
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Ceri

"What have I?" Ceri murmured. "What I have is a problematic conscience. It's good to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt. Except yeh walk like a killer and talk like a Leaguer and seem very very eager to get the forked-tongue double-talk over with and get to the violence."

She sighed, appeared to digest this for a moment as she analysed his stance, and a bit of pain and weariness flashed across her eyes.

"Always happy to oblige," she nodded.

...and then she powered in, to most eyes she'd be a blur, and fired three punches, leftrightleft, one right after the other...

Standard punches, taught to her by Ted Grant himself, testing the water but no less crushing should they connect...

Left jab. Right jab. Left cross. Boomboomboom.

How often has it been said? she wondered inwardly, a detached little inner place. 'You cannot truly know someone until you fight them.' Well, this is my little pugilistic polygraph.

If he's a killer, then he'll kill me.

If he's not, then he won't.

Game on, Black Sheep.
 
Damian

Survivor

Survivor


Black hood automatically ducks low letting her come in close he feels the punches go over his head. He then insteps letting her own mommentum carry her to his shoulder. He then takes his arms from the nearness of his temples to go around her waist. Once his hands lock together he he beings to heave her up ready to go air born and launch her into the dirt back first his cowl being armored would protect his cranium.

One more goddamn day
When I know what I want
And my want will be considered tonight
Consider tonight
Just another day
When all that I want
Will mark me as a sinner tonight
I'm a sinner tonight, yeah


(music for fight scene 10,000 fists by Disturbed)
 
Ceri

'People can no longer cover their eyes
If this disturbs you then walk away
You will remember the night you were struck by the sight of
Ten Thousand fists in the air'


The punches were an opening gambit, like Chess. The Pawns always go first.

Unless your Knights are especially eager.

Her Ted Grant Specials whistled through empty air and all of a sudden she found herself upturned, thrown into a forward flip and crashing towards the driveway on her back sofastsofastsofast...

She whudded into the ground with unbelievable force, the only thing that saved her head and neck from the full shock of impact was her hand lashing out to slap the ground at the moment of collision...

"Hrrnh!"

It practically broke her hand, but she'd been hit far harder than that just this afternoon by a blackhearted bitch from beyond the stars, and that hadn't kayoed her, either. She stayed conscious. Her head was ringing, but she stayed conscious. It's not like he'd dropped a Castle on her.

Bishops, on the other hand, move diagonally.

She stayed conscious, and before the dust had even settled from their crash landing she was already striking back.

Her uninjured hand lashed out and grabbed one of those bolas off of his back, out from under him, where he'd harnessed it, and, in the same instant, she kicked and rolled away from him, aiming her heel for his kidney. As she rolled to a kneeling position, she whipped the bola out straight and, fingers luckily unerring upon the hidden trigger, fired it at his legs, hoping to snare him...

'Power un-restrained dead on the mark
Is what we will deliver tonight, deliver tonight
Pleasure fused with pain this triumph of the soul
will make you shiver tonight, will make you shiver tonight, yeah'
 
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