[identity profile] jla-apokolips.livejournal.com
Darkseid is bored. Watching Desaad's systematic torture of hundred of Gothamites can only remain interesting for a while. He's just waiting for his power to reach its zenith through Blackfire and then...

Darkseid finds himself looking at his hands, as if expecting to see something flowing out of them. "Something is wrong." He glares at Desaad. "Toad. You are in communication with the Deacon. Have him report."
[identity profile] give-me-an-amen.livejournal.com
"People of Gotham, I salute you!" It has been a long time coming, but the Deacon Joseph Blackfire is once again on a podium in Gotham square, masses around him, and being played to televisions and radios across the city. All have heard of how the holy man has cleaned up the streets in a violent yet effective pogrom of the colourful psychopaths that make up the city's rogues gallery. All have heard how Blackfire intends to make Gotham a glowing example of how a city should be in these modern times. All seem to have forgotten the man named Blackfire from a decade ago, who tried something very similar, and was supposedly killed by his own cult...

"That is right, people of Gotham. I salute each and every one of you for having to put up with characters such as the Joker, the Scarecrow, the Riddler and the Catwoman. The Batman. Oh, hoo hooo. The Bat Man. Your saviour from all of these freaks and malcontents." Blackfire chuckles as the crowd grows hushed. To many, Batman is a rumour and myth, but one that brings hope in the darkness. "You have trusted your fate to a man in a bat costume!! I salute you people for your desperate need to cling onto anything that can bring you light, but surely, Gotham has gone too far when it needs a being like that for protection!"

Blackfire waits for absolute silence before continuing. "I am no politician. I am not running for some kind of office or official position. I am an old, very old man, and I have seen the world and all its faces. All of its evil. I can tell you that there is no evil more raw and corrupt than in this city. It breaks my heart to tell you that you have all gone far too far, but it is not too late. I have performed wonders over these months, and I will show them to you."

On the large television screens erected in Gotham Square appear images of burned out houses and factories. "These are places purified by my righteous anger, Gotham City. I am no pyromaniac, do not misunderstand me. But safehouses for criminals? Brothels? Drug dens? They must all be removed like rotten flesh from around a wound." A number of men and women accompany Blackfire on the stage at this moment. "These are my brothers in arms. You may recognise some as some of the most terrifying monsters in Gotham, but through me they have found the true meaning of existence. They have no need for individuality when they work for Gotham. Gotham the being, Gotham the state of mind. You can work for Gotham too, if you do but listen to me."

Something is going on. Perhaps it's something in Blackfire's voice. More likely it's the subliminal message being played through the huge screens. The crowd begin to chant the Deacon's name. "Ha, haha. No no, I am not your leader. I am merely his disciple." He quietens the crowd down, but the television crews picked up the wave of support for Blackfire, and it's infectious.

"Do you feel... loneliness, Gotham? Alienation, perhaps? No doubt due to the state of your city, you sometimes feel fear and despair. Why, when you could live in a jewel like Metropolis, where is your sense of self-worth? They mock you, you know. The other people in America. They condemn you for your following of false idols. They misunderstand that it's all you know. But perhaps you should feel guilt, and shame. Even failure! Do not worry though, Gotham. You do not need to feel these things alone. Feel them together, and come before me. Feel them together, and be as one. Hate all others. Your hate is justified. Where were the rest of your countrymen every time your lives came under threat? Hate them! Anti-life justifies your hate!!!"

And Gotham explodes...
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
At the corner of Hollywood and Vine, the ground begins to tremble on an early summer evening - the hardy native Californians ignore the tremor at first, accustomed to such things living this close to the San Andreas fault. The hissing gasses and wave of heat might be ignored as well - after all, this is where movies are made - but the follow-up is all too real.

Demons begin to pour forth from the fissure that quickly forms - their twisted, red-black bodies bending unnaturally as their charred wings expand, feeling the freedom of the air for the first time in age untold.

Hell on Earth begins here.
[identity profile] zauriel1971.livejournal.com
Time has past since the last major presence of Asmodel on earth. Since then, he has been transferred from heaven's holding cells, to hell itself for containment for judgment on the Last Day. Some of his former servants have found out where he is thanks to recent interruptions in hell by earth's heroes...

Traumiel, a bull host like Asmodel, has managed to sneak to where he has heard his master is kept. He feels the heat and smells the stench of death strong in his nostrils. "Zauriel and his pals will pay for what they've done to my master! They thought they could slip through here to find a friend without notice! I heard one of their minds give way to mention the fact that my master had been moved here somewhere to await being judged. Not for long!" he says to himself. He stealthily sneaks to the spot and sees two dragon creatures guarding the former king angel, and former host of the Spectre. "You will soon be free my master!" he says to himself quietly, "You will soon be united with the Spectre! Soon you will rule hell itself from Neron and any other fool enough to face me!"
[identity profile] blackest-knight.livejournal.com
Tonight's the night. Or the first night, at least. The night BEFORE the big night. Or a few nights before the big night.

Whatever it is, Rick's apparently making this a much bigger deal than Todd had expected. He'd almost just backed out altogether, but a stern look from Jennie said "I know what you're thinking, and I'll drag your unconscious body there if I have to."

So here he is, blindfolded, in the trunk of Rick's car, getting carted off to God knows wherever for a night sure to ruin any political aspirations not already squashed by superherodom and a brief couple of stints in supervillainy.

Thank God Damon's having his own.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
In the aftermath of Mordru's assault on time, the mystic community has gathered to assess the damage. The restored wizard Shazam has taken up his throne once more, sitting in vigil over the Seven Deadly Sins.

"Your service was admirable, Billy. Your custodianship of my power allowed my the time necessary to prepare for the critical moment. And Teth-Adam, you have discharged your duties with great skill and courage - I hope you will continue to serve as one of my champions. Though the threat of Mordru has passed, the world will always face new dangers."

He turns to some of the other gathered guests.

"And there is the matter of the Spectre to consider. I had hoped he would not become involved - but I was unable to foresee everything."
[identity profile] jla-extras2.livejournal.com
As the other two teams make their exit, Brainiac Five glances at the powerhouses who remain - the elite few who will have to keep Mordru preoccupied until the other teams can succeed and converge.

"I've activated the satellite's automated defenses, which should keep it intact for a while against the demons. If we fail, though, I don't imagine we'll need it for a ride home."

He taps a key on his omnicom, activating the satellite transporter system, to put the team right in the thick of things - at the feet of two twelve-foot tall incarnations of Mordru, standing around a swirling nebula of raw time - with a young Billy Batson nearby, half-trapped in a stone obelisk.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
As the damage to the universe begins to accumulate, the skies of Earth take on a deep red color, as though space itself were bleeding. Strange storms begin to form, with unusually-colored bolts of lightning.
[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] blackest-knight.livejournal.com
Todd hasn't been dealing well with the news.

He lied. He said he was coming back, and now he's not. All of that, just to abandon us again.

Molly was upset, sure, but her words stuck with Todd. That Dad deserved a rest. That he'd done enough.

But it was bullshit. Dad would never just accept rest, or even death. He was too noble. Too obsessed with his work. It had been one of the things between them after the reunion. He could never make time for Todd and Jenny, what with all his JSA business.

I've lost more parents than most people have. Twice now.

He's tried the healthy ways of dealing. He's cried. He's talked. And Damon has been a wonderful help. But all this, the death, the failed revival, and most of all, the words of the Oans. That Todd and Jenny could bring Alan back. That all it took was the Willpower. Sure, Jenny hosted the Starheart, but it was Todd's fault that Dad wasn't back. Todd hadn't lent enough power. He was still too resentful, too bitter. Things had been better, sure. He'd forgiven Alan for most everything. But that didn't make the pain go away.

On some level, maybe Dad died because Todd wanted him to.

Maybe it really was...music?

Todd's contemplation is lost, as four distinct notes sound off from somewhere in the room. A room with no radio, no television, nothing.

A room with a floating silver ball.

[identity profile] doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com
After helping Gemma return to normal and doing what he can to see to some of the other Outsiders' injuries, Hector Hall takes off the helmet and finds himself on a deck where he can look out at the ocean and catch his breath. It took a tremendous amount of energy to retrieve Merlynne and get past Kobra's barrier -- more than he cares to let on -- and then landing in the middle of a firefight? Simply put, he's tired.

At first, his instinct was to leave the helmet on, but then he realized that most of them have seen him without his helmet. Hell, he and Brainwave go back for years. Corrine, Caleb, Tefe, Sand ... even Detective Chimp. He's got a lot of personal connections here, more than he considered at first. And how much do you have back at the JSA, Hector? he thinks to himself. Why is he there? Both his father's and Kent Nelson's legacy? More and more, his duties draw him away from the JSA. Still ... he fought so hard for his place on the team, and for so long.

And where are the enthusiastic young kids he started with? Henry's here, Lyta's in Los Angeles. Jade and Obsidian have their own concerns right now. Al and Norda? No, out of all of the original Infinitors, he was the only one actually in the JSA right now. It means something to him. He's just not sure how to make it jibe with where he is right now.

And maybe something's got to give, he thinks.
[identity profile] laughing-mage.livejournal.com
Selina isn't entirely certain how long she's been sitting here. The only thing she knows for sure is that the sun hasn't come back up and, a little worrisomely, John has not yet come back from the bar. She hasn't entirely expected him to but...

It would have been nice.

It would have been nice to have company.

Carefully, she starts to stand up. Maybe she can head out to the roof. The climb will be a little harder but she should be able to make it up there. Maybe she'll feel better with a view of the skyline.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
In darkness, there's a squabbling of creatures. Manifested here is a dark wood, of familiar north-eastern seaboard terrain. This new manifestation is the interest that brings them, but the light of transport scares them away.

Dr. Fate and Tefe Holland will see things scatter away from their arrival point, back into black depths.

Through the unstable haze of the environment, a clear area is ahead. There's a shadowy outline of two structures, the farthest showing square blurs of light into the distance. In clearer focus, a house can be seen, but its outside structure wavers unsteadily. The house is intermittently whole and in pieces, the conjurer probably unaware of the manifestation's faulty nature.


Sep. 10th, 2007 08:48 pm
[identity profile] tefe-holland.livejournal.com
Things had been quiet, of course that was usually what happened just before everything decided to get out of control in Tefe's experience. There had been time to grow the plants on the base the way she wanted them, some were just for looks, some were for traps, some were to talk to.

She still wondered what that strange Raven woman had wanted outside the theater that day, the other people showing up had scared her away before they could really talk. Maybe she should look her up soon.

Now Caleb wanted her to come to a meeting. Tefe wasn't exactly sure what it was for but she was able to guess it had something to do with Corrine. He hadn't been around too much to ask how his sister was doing because he'd been trying to find a solution to where Corrine had gone. Hopefully she could ask about Amelia at the same time.

She showed up where Caleb had asked her to be with her hands in her pockets and a slightly curious look.

"I'm here."
[identity profile] doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com
There is an aspect of Fate's Tower that Hector Hall keeps resembling a relatively normal-looking apartment: A few bedrooms, a kitchen, a study, a living room with a large-screen TV and (don't tell the JSA) an XBox. This helps keep Hector Hall -- not Dr. Fate -- grounded.

Some days, Hector just wants to be overwhelmingly normal. He dusts and vacuums, cooks dinner and, when he's trying way too hard, he cranks up the stereo and does both. Today, he's got the stereo cranked up to 11, and is singing along with The English Beat at the top of his lungs.

"Sooner or later your legs give way, you hit the ground
Save it for later don't run away and let me down.
Sooner or later you hit the deck you get found out
Save it for later don't run away and let me down
You runaway runaway and let me down. ...

He's got a roast in the oven and mashed potatoes on the stove top, and somehow the cleaning is taking out more aggression than even incinerating a dozen of Degaton's spaceships had done. Still, he's having a hard time letting go of it ... how Mekanique managed to get so close to his soul ... the hawk motif that manifested when the chaos set in. He thinks about his father, missing again, and instead of brooding, sings louder.

"Two dozen other stupid reasons
Why we should suffer for this
Don't bother trying to explain them
Just hold my hand while I come to a decision on it. ...
[identity profile] jla-villains.livejournal.com
Degaton's command ship -- a warship appropriated from the Warlords of Okaara -- hovers, like the rest of Vanishing Point, in a temporal "pocket." To do so otherwise would risk sliding into the future ... into the last remaining moments of the universe.

Consequently, the battle outside of his window is happening entirely at one precise instant ... a moment literally frozen in time. Degaton throws back his head. Sometimes temporal mechanics leave even his head hurting.

The soldiers and engineers around him are impassive, but the man himself is pensive, concerned at the raging war.

"How did Hunter raise an army so quickly?" he muses, but no one dares answer, nor does he expect them to. "No matter. Our forces are inside Vanishing Point, and when it is mine, we can execute the last chronal alterations ... stabilize the altered timelines into one coherent series of events. Rewrite history in my image."

HAIL DEGATON! the soldiers shout on cue. And at that, Degaton smiles.

"Yes," he says. "Hail Degaton. ... And if Hunter and his allies win."

He shrugs.

"There's always the backup plan."

There is no cheering at that. Indeed, the soldiers seem chilled to the bone.
[identity profile] jla-forgotten.livejournal.com
I'm called Rip Hunter. That's not my name. No one knows my true name, and I won't even record it here. Too much is at stake, and if it means I die forgotten, then so be it.

When Degaton's cat's paw, the Witch Queen, rose, Earth's heroes were destroyed. Those that survived pulled together to form The Justice Batallion, and now most of them have fallen, also.

The Witch Queen, like myself, had an identity shrouded in mystery -- untraceable by my best methods. Now, I know her name, but it may be too late.

I put my own pieces in place. The Forgotten Heroes -- champions already tossed between worlds and times. And so the shadow war began ... neither side knowing who the other's players were. But Degaton's forces grew too quickly, and his pawns caused chaos in timeline after timeline. Heroes fell. And then ... this.

Rip Hunter stops the log, and walks to Vanishing Point's observation deck. Outside, an armada thousands of starships strong stands poised to shield the chronal station. The Linear Men are dead, and his Forgotten Heroes are scattered across time. He's only had time to retrieve two of his agents.

"This is it," he says over the communicators. "If we fall here, I just want you to know it's been an honor to fight by your side."
[identity profile] jla-goldenage.livejournal.com
Dr. Richard Occult takes politely of the feast Prince Khufu, the first incarnation of Hawkman, has provided to the weary travelers, but his attention remains fixed on his colleauges.

Hector Hall, the current (by his reckoning) incarnation of Fate eats not at all, refusing to remove his helmet. The chaos magicks that have infested his aura are growing stronger, making him edgy. So too is Gemma Marsters, after Arion's revelation that she may be destined to become the Witch Queen.

They wait for Nabu, whom Khufu has sent for. The delay in his arrival concerns Occult. Something is wrong.

The other shoe drops an hour into the meal, when an Egyptian messenger comes, sprinting into Khufu's tent.

"Your .. your highness ... It is Nabu. He has arrived, but .. he ... he ..."

The messenger stops, and catches his breath.

"Your highness, he is plagued by demons."
[identity profile] doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com
Degaton's soldiers from the future maintain their fire as they are buffeted by Firebrand's flame and Cyclone's torrent, protected by their force shields but clearly on the defense. But already, Johnny Quick seems to have fallen to them.

"I've had ENOUGH OF THIS!" Maxine screams, glaring at whatever enemies are left standing. "Have you?"

The force of her power holds the soldiers at bay ... but they're hardly the most dangerous threat on the field.

Yes says the voice of the seemingly-posessed Kent Nelson. I have had enough.

Seemingly oblivious to the the force of the wind, Doctor Fate moves toward Cyclone, his hands ablaze with mystic light, strands of energy arcing into hawk wings behind him.


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