[identity profile] lord-mordru.livejournal.com
The younger Mordru returns to the Rock of Eternity - greeting his elder counterpart with a curt nod.

"Constantine will do as we require. We can use Nimue Ravensong as the substitute. Have you made the preparations?"

His older incarnation nods in confirmation, and speaks. "I foresee that we will also require an extra pawn, amongst the heroes. I have selected an agent that we can pull from the threads of time. His.. condition will necessitate placing him where he has access to someone with vast scientific acumen."

Both men moves towards the slumped, chained figure of Billy Batson - raising their hands, allowing the electrified power of Shazam to course through them, in unison.

"This will not go unnoticed, you realize."

"I would be a fool to assume otherwise."

Acting as one, the twin selves of the Chaos Sorcerer plunge their hands into the raw essence of time itself - and pull.
[identity profile] damage-girl.livejournal.com
She was back at the farm. In the growing dawn, she'd put the car in park and stared nebulously at the sight that surrounded her. It wasn't that the house was gone, or that the barn was gone. No. She'd resigned herself to this property's fate long before the Monster Society blew it all sky-high. It was the stillness that lay across the property, the emptiness, echoing back at her as though through a long tunnel. The whole feel of the place mirrored the fate of her host family.

She'd spent her life-- unconsciously, to a point-- trying to put those pieces back together. Sure, there was new family now, people who didn't batter her, or talk down to her, or treat her like a thing to be possessed. Somehow, though, she'd always waited, hoping, that the old order would come back. Someday, it'd be shiny and new again, and no one would know the difference.

Heh. )
[identity profile] green-shield.livejournal.com
She grits her teeth. "This is your fault."


Feb. 21st, 2008 09:00 pm
[identity profile] amelia-z.livejournal.com
This morning starts like any other morning. There were no restless points the night before, no enthusiasm-based insomnia, and this morning is cold and groggy.

As per usual, Amelia is awake disturbingly early. At five AM, she begins to collect her things. She has no one to say goodbye to, so the following four hours are spent packing in silence and solitude. For the first time in many years, Amelia's mind is clear.

When everything has been packed, the room looks like the only bit of life that might've ever breathed into it has been sucked out. It's become another dead cell, cleaned and prepped for someone else's humiliation.

Amelia covers her eyes, and closes the door.

There's two hours of meetings with her various doctors during her stay, and her lawyer. Then it's time to make the appearance in court. The warden and psychiatric head are kinder than she thought they'd be. Dr. Tomin is not, but Amelia keeps a neutral face and answers as best she can. The judge reiterates all the information of her release, but finally it's done. She signs a head-spinning amount of paperwork.

At seven after two-- at least, Eastern Standard Time-- she's on her way back to her big, empty house for the first time in many months. Setting down her things in the front hallway makes an echo. She closes the door, shutting out the snow and wind.
[identity profile] grundy-smash.livejournal.com

The first news report came from Gotham City, around 10 AM.  Fittingly enough, on a Monday.

Solomon Grundy on a rampage, walking through an office building, same old same old.

Except at 10:22 AM, the newswires reported that Solomon Grundy was engaged in a firefight with policemen in New York City, as he was heading towards the JSA Brownstone.

To make matters worse...at 7:30 AM west coast time, there was a citizen complaint of a skinny albino man...matching the description of a former form of Solomon Grundy's...lying naked in the grass.  Just staring into space.

Within an hour or so, there are at least 15 reports of Solomon Grundy sightings across the US.

And the numbers kept growing...

[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
There is a place beyond Reality.

Desire walks the corridors of her own empty shell, approaching his empty heart. For Desire is not the filling of the heart, but the hollow ache within it.

Some people see today as a time for lovers to come together. Others see today as just another day. And others see it as a time to yearn for what they lack. As couples move through the world before them, many of those without a partner Desire someone to share their lives with.

Desire was there when the first Valentine was imprisoned, marrying young couples in secret despite the Emperor’s decree – after all, single men make better soldiers than married men. And Desire fuels a need for an army. And Desire draws young couples together.

Desire was there when the Christian church absorbed the fertility rites of Luperci into a Christian celebration of love. St. Valentine’s Day is much more chaste than Luperci ever was – and chastity feeds Desire.

He is there today, of course. Looking out on the worlds, to taste herself in hidden empty hearts.

He is everywhere there is Desire. And she smiles.
[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
The ritual to heal Amelia is progressing.

Ibn carefully monitor's their vital signs and then flinches. Something isn't right. He speaks, only with great difficulty. "I believe there may be an external contamination. Some sort of attack."
[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
It is difficult to spiritually cleanse a room where so many souls have passed through; some have suffered before passing the veil. He pours the fresh water into his silver bowl and mixes the salt until it becomes diluted and the water clears. This is not ordinary table salt. It was mined in a very sacred place in India. It will soak in the negative energies of the area.

There are two beds. Ms. Zukov is resting in her bed. The other one is for her brother.

"I have developed an elixir with the help of Ms. Strong that I believe will alleviate Ms. Zukov's condition. It will force the two of you into an accelerated cycle of healing. This elixir shall create a mental bridge between the two of you. As you are siblings and have similar bio-rhythmus, you will help moderate each other. You will adapt to each other’s energies. This will allow Ms. Zukov to tune her energies into less self destructive cycles, but it will for a short time cause added stress to Mr. Zukov. However, I believe you will quickly even each other out.”

Ibn pauses for a moment, checking vitals. “There is a possibility that this bridge will cause a sharing of memories or dreams. It is merely a side-effect and should cause no danger unless the two of you fight it. Are there any questions?”


Jan. 2nd, 2008 10:50 pm
[identity profile] amelia-z.livejournal.com
E Coli O157:H7
Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, dermatosparaxis type
Elastin degrading enzyme
Electron beam computerized tomography
Electroshock therapy
Emery-Dreifuss muscular dystrophy
End-stage renal disease
Endotracheal tube

Amelia coughs, the sound seeming to resonate through her skull. She doesn't feel quite in her body, but somehow its own weight is crushing down on her. She feels like she's gulping for air, and in seconds she feels her body expand as she pulls in oxygen.

Brilliant colors rip across her sight, her migraine seeming to flex lines across the visual landscape.

Everything calms for a moment.

Her eyes blink a few times and move to the only form she can distinguish in the room.
[identity profile] sand-hawkins.livejournal.com
...to be with the one you love."   So the lyric goes.

Doesn't hurt if it's Christmas Eve either.

Last year, Jerry Lee's closed its doors on Christmas Eve at around 2 PM...there wasn't much of a dinner crowd normally.

This year, they're open for a private party.  Both rooms. full band, full kitchen service, including soda jerk.  Only thing closed are the bars.   Guests want to tie one on, they can do it after they leave - no sense making Chimp and Corrine feel uncomfortable.

This was a time to celebrate.  The entire D'aubigne family's been brought to justice. Travis is safe and healing.  Everyone's back in the same dimension and timespace for the first time in months.

And Sand was bound and determined to celebrate it.  With his extended family and friends.

Civvies preferred, although if people felt they needed to or had to be in costume, keep it low key - Sand told the establishment that a couple of metas were in his circle of friends.  The owner had this odd smirk about him when he said that, but he didn't press.

He was the first person there, going over the menu and the music selection.  The 40's swing was as good as ever - the 50's room, by request, had a killer rock/blues band that also did some 60's. 

Now all he needed were some guests...
[identity profile] caleb-z.livejournal.com
For the first time in months, Caleb feels good about both himself, and even finds himself without a pet project. The cure for Amelia is no longer in his hands, and the last he heard from Ibn, there was hope on that front. Phillip, Crystal, and Louis are back in prison, with Louis undoubtedly noticing all the extra attention the other inmates have taken to paying him.

Caleb snickers knowingly at this ‘unforeseen’ development. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it, he privately muses.

It’s taken them years, but the only outstanding threat to Corrine is the Enchantress, and the last Caleb heard, the JSA was still chasing her down. In other words, the matter is in good hands. All of which is well, but Caleb’s life has been work, work, work for months now, and he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to enjoy a hard earned respite. In days gone by this might have been an omen for mischief, but just now, with the breeze swaying his hammock and a bowl of fresh fruit nearby to nibble on, with Mozart on his mp3 player and the BBC on his laptop, mischief is the farthest thing from his mind. In a few hours Mara will be available, and they already have reservations at a nice little riverfront restaurant in Vienna. In the mean time, he is resolved to do nothing that is in any way productive.
[identity profile] green-shield.livejournal.com
But, actual thought process on this one? Classically bad.

She's running on a least a strained ankle, if not broken one. Her left arm - recently healed, took another hit which made her shot against Daddy Phillip go wild. Her back hurt from the burn Crystal gave her - and she was pretty sure she wasn't in Idaho which meant the Outsiders were likely going to have a bitch of a time finding her and getting her out of this trap.

Breathlessly, she ducks behind some rocks. She won't win this one. This is a given. She's going to take out as many of Corrine's dysfunctional family as she could before they sent her to God though.
[identity profile] blind-will.livejournal.com
He wakes up, sort of, to the sounds he always hears. The screams, the promises that 'he don't mean it, he's just drunk' are quickly drowned out by the sounds from below. The sounds of the ghettoes. Traffic, people, shouts.
Unlike usual though, for some reason, he doesn't start awake. Then he realizes... its the music, 60's blues rising from one of the apartments down below him.

'Mothers, tell your children,
Not to do as I have done.
Spend your lives in sin and misery,
In the house of the Rising Sun.'

'I've got one foot on the platform,
One foot on the train,
I'm going back to New Orleans,
To wear that ball and chain.'

He smiles, before coughing. Blood.
That's ok. It reminds him of the music Tara used to play, when he could sleep. When he could wake up and feel invulnerable, because she believed he could do anything... in the morning.
Not feeling up to using the ring to rise in his usual fashion, he puts his hand down to help push himself up, and it slips, sending him back to lying down, slightly propped by a chimney.

A few moments of confusion, and he realizes its blood. His own. His jacket is still full of holes - tatters by now mostly. Somehow the ring isn't covering him in his 'costume' anymore. No more black leathers, just some old, comfortable things.
Then he realizes that almost everything he's getting is through sound and touch. The ring has plenty of charge left... its only been a couple hours, but its using everything it can to try and keep him stapled together.

And he smiles again. Its cold up here... a lot colder than he remembers space being. Thinking back, he realizes that his gambit against Sur was only half bluffing. The ring, without anywhere to go, just gives him the power to tilt at windmills. Things haven't gotten better. No matter how hard he's fought, the next time he goes out, everything looks and sounds the same.

And if he no longer keeps fighting with all his will... the real power for the ring, maybe it will be one less poor kid, and maybe then he can sleep.
[identity profile] damage-girl.livejournal.com
Corrine is buried in a pile of non-sense.

Well, it might as well be non-sense, for all the useful information she's getting. This effort has multiple goals, none of which she's any closer to reaching. Actually, the more she reads and takes in, the less she understands.

She curses her family for the fourth time today. Everything from the incident in June is here, right at her fingertips, and yet nothing is jumping out at her. Somewhere in here, there's a clue to where her younger brother is, or even more specifically, how they did what they did to him. And if the entity was supposed to give her insight, It's dragging its feet now.

Anytime now... she thinks, waiting a few seconds. Nothing.

Quietly... a chuckle.

Well screw you very much, too.
[identity profile] onthecase.livejournal.com
The Chimp has finished the investigation he did for his own benefit. And now he needs to share the results. He's asked the Outsiders to come for a meeting.

He looks at the assembled heroes. "We can get started," he states. "Tara's already seen this." He slides a few photos and photocopies of records across the table for others to look at.

"When I was in rehab, there was something that I kept going back to. It didn't make much sense. Travis was usually pretty calm and on top of it, but then, in the matter of a few seconds, he lashed out at me, dumped his girlfriend, and quit the team. It doesn't add up to what we've seen of him.

"So I took a case from myself. I wanted to find out what caused this abrupt reaction. Started looking into his background, because... it looked like I'd hit a button." He gestures to the photos and records. "I was right. I just didn't realize how big of one."
[identity profile] onthecase.livejournal.com
It's been a bit since the attack. He's still sore. But he's now feeling up to taking a little trip.

He hobbles to the garage, leaning on the cane he's been given. He hates this cane... as if he didn't look ridiculous enough before, now he's got a cane. But at least he can shake it at people like the good curmudgeon he is.

He opens the door, already knowing that she'll be there.

"Tara? C'mon. We need to go on a field trip."


Dec. 5th, 2007 01:29 am
[identity profile] damage-girl.livejournal.com
A hot bath is exactly what Corrine needed. After soaking to prunish-feel with a good book, she's wiping condensation from the mirror to comb out her hair. It's been quiet recently. Quiet is good. It's given her a lot of time to focus on herself, which is nice, and get some research done on things that still don't make sense.

Mmm. Right now, she's actually thinking about just slipping into her pajamas and flopping down in front of a good movie. There's hot chocolate to be had and she has a bag of mini-marshmallows stashed away. Yeah... that sounds perfect.

There's another sound, an actual one. She closes the cabinet mirror, then turns to make sure she's actually seeing what she thinks. It's like a super-awesome shiny disco-ball.

Yeah. Definitely report this, pron--
[identity profile] amelia-z.livejournal.com
One of the niceties of Amelia's placement is the hospital's library. The incident with the plastic-ware has cut her library time short, but it's all the better to keep people away from her. She can divide her time wisely to avoid the other patients, for the most part.

Everyone these days keeps a distance of ten feet or so. Some days, in general population, she can feel them sweep through the edge of her mystical sight, back and forth through the stacks. She knows who's reading from what section by the distinctive colors and where they tend to be. More reading should really be done here, but Amelia often finds she's wasted her two hours or so simply staring at the soul signatures bobbing around, unawares of her spectator sport.

She isn't supposed to be eating in here. She sneaks an M&M from her pocket. The sugar's been keeping her going, but her fingers are dabbed with colors now from the melting candy shell.

She giggles, holding her fingers alongside Justine Millhane's damp blue and green soul in Biography & Auto-biography. "How much we see..." she explains to the open book in her lap, "Is irrelevant depending on how much we know."

She's up to 1983 in her Rzhev reading. Licking her fingers, she turns the page with her other hand. The Rocket Reds have become a separate research endeavor completely.
[identity profile] damage-girl.livejournal.com
Corrine has spent a lot of her time since she's been back in seclusion. She's talked to Sand and Tara so far, but for the most part she's staying in her room.

There's equal parts of reading, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, and crying. The reading she's done has been the best part of her depression. It's given her time to think, and time to go somewhere else for a bit. Movies and TV have too much going on for her focus at the moment. Hours into some new releases she's missed, she gives up the reading to go walking. The stack will wait.

Her feet wander her aimlessly about the base. She goes in a different direction when close to encountering someone. There's a glassy look to her eyes as she passes a reflection. She isn't fit to be interacting with people yet. The thing tied with her now talks on almost endlessly, and it's heavily distracting.

There's miles of beach to cover it with. It still feels weird at this time of year that it isn't freezing, but Corrine's got to remember where she is. That's a harder thing to do than say right now.

She ditches her shoes finally, probably to come back to later if she remembers it. Halfway around the island, she wades out hip-deep in the water. She ties her hair up messily. It feels slightly colder when she gets out, shorts and tee sopping wet. Without a change in expression, she continues her trek down the beach.
[identity profile] gemma-masters.livejournal.com
She'd stuck around for a while to talk to Tefe. She didn't get to see her cousin too often, especially since having all that memory get stuffed in her head. There are a lot of things she understands about her cousin so much better now regarding her powers and the troubles that she has. It's made Gemma more determined to keep in touch with her.

Especially when Uncle John was off doing God knew what and getting himself into trouble. She'd need Tefe as an occasionally ally to drag him out of the fire she was sure.

And SHE WAS AN ADULT AGAIN!! Sheesh talk about your being embarrassed. No more being turned into a kiddie during a battle kthnxpls.

There was a couple more things to do before she could go home and see Zauriel. She needed to give someone their gun back and have a little chat. Caleb would find her she was sure. In the meantime she'd just lay in the middle of the little garden Tefe had made and relax.


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