[identity profile] alt-minds2.livejournal.com
The small room she had at the Tower is all packed into a pair of suitcases. She never cared much for material possessions, anyway.

Her diploma is in her hands. She never thought she would live this long after the incident. After a year in hiding, she spent the next few of them fully embracing her changes and the danger that came with them. A large part of her still berates her for doing this, calling her ungrateful and treasonous. Another part just wants to hold on and never change.

But a new chapter dawns, and things have changed. There are five hours left before she leaves for Guyana. It's not as dramatic as facing Greek Gods or supervillains, but serving in the Peace Corps was her dream long before Lex Luthor ran her life off the rails.
[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com
Outrageously Hawaiian shirt? Check. Sporty jean shorts? Check. Fancy leather flip flops? Check. Aviator sunglasses, corn cob pipe, and genuine Pattonesque army helmet? Check.

"Time to go to work." Beast Boy states, snapping his hands behind his back and stepping out to the Tower's lounge. "Alright, listen up troops!"

A pause. Beast Boy sighs, pulls a triangle out of somewhere, and rings it a little. "I said LISTEN U-p. Aheh. Thank you. Now! Ahem. Today we see a step forward in the endless trek of justice! Some of you wonderful guys may not make it home, but all of you will be able to say, "I was there, and I was a MAN.". Except the ladies. They can say, "I was a LADY.", if they'd prefer. Their call, no judgments here." Beast Boy coughs again. "One of the most important aspects of superheroing is the secret identity. And tonight, we're going to be putting the protection of that identity to the test. Teen Titans, tonight..."

Beast Boy slaps the poster behind him, showing the 'Fun Haus', a hip new Gotham nightspot that's made a few of the society papers. "...we are going clubbing! Clubbing, for DANGER. If we can survive a night out with our secret identities intact, we know we can handle those tricky infiltration missions that pop up every once in a while." You know, when the uniforms get boring. "Any questions, troops?"
[identity profile] vic-stone.livejournal.com
Now that the meet and greet part was done, it was time to separate the wheat from the chaff.

The first round of the audition process was fairly simple. Make it one complete lap around the training. Easier said than done, since there would be a number of obstacles in their path, not to mention the added pressure of the senior members of the Titans watching. It wasn't on one of the higher difficulty settings, so if anyone auditioning could clear it, then they had potential. And anyone who couldn't? Well... they needed a bit more work before being Titans ready.

Vic looked down at the list in front of him, then announced the order of each person who had to go through the course.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
With a number of new, young heroes cropping up all over the nation, there has been much discussion of the role that the Titans will take in training and assisting the new crop of super-heroes. Heroes like Static. And the Scarab. And Zachary Zatara. And Vulcan.

In some cases, there isn't a lot of available information - so an 'open house' has been scheduled, welcoming would-be Titans to the tower in San Francisco.
[identity profile] kidflash2.livejournal.com
Bart is in the kitchen at Titans Tower, with a perplexing problem in hand.

On the counter, to his left, is a newspaper - turned to the funny pages. To his right, there are several plates which were, until recently, stacked high with bread, lettuce, tomatoes, and various lunchmeats. There are several half-empty condiment bottles as well.

In front of him, there is .. the sandwich. Inspired by a comic strip, Bart has borrowed a page from his grandfather's techniques of scientific investigation. The sandwich has been constructed, two feet tall.

Now, can it be eaten? That is the question.
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_wondergirl_/
Cassie Sandsmark padded into the kitchen of Titans Tower, her eyes darting left and right hungrily. She was starving. A thin sheen of sweat covered her lithe, toned body, and her long blonde locks were plastered to her California-tan forehead.

She popped open a fridge and pulled out a small container of hummus. Reaching into a nearby cabinet, she pulled out a bag of garlic-flavoured pita chips. A smile crossed the teenager's face.

Hummus. And pita chips.

All she needed now was a Cherry Zesti, and she was good to go.

She took a seat at the counter, pulling a stool up underneath her.

Titans Tower had been quiet lately...a lot of things had been quiet lately.

More so than usual.

It was like the calm before the storm.

She didn't like that feeling much.
[identity profile] man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com
The Metropolis, state, and national media were abuzz. A mass of photographers, news reporters, and special government forces waited at the doors of Stryker's Island Maximum Security prison.

This is normally an almost silent island. However, today is different. Today is the day Stryker's most famous inmate leaves its doors. The news of yesterday's unprecedented Presidential pardon reached the newswire and the Associated Press late last night. Yet, the turnout at Stryker's is almost epic.

At exactly 6:15 Eastern Standard time, the front doors of the out-processing center open, and the flashbulbs explode. Reporters charge the stairwell, trying to be the first to get a word, a quote, a soundbyte.

Because as of this very moment, the forty-second President of the United States of America, Alexander Luthor is now a free man.
[identity profile] alt-minds2.livejournal.com
Aurora draws the sweater around her, adjusting the cap around her ears. Winter in San Francisco isn't exactly chilly, but it is gray and foggy. As she pedals her bike through the hills, she is on her way to the home of Alex Zapruder.

Read more... )
[identity profile] old-saint-nick.livejournal.com
Most people scoff at the idea of a real Santa Claus. There simply is no way that an immortal elderly-appearing fat-man could travel the world in one night, giving gifts to good boys and girls all over the planet in a flying sleigh pulled by reindeer... and that's even before one considers the difficulties in spying on all the children of the world simultaneously to judge behavior, the improbabilities involved in keeping stables at the North Pole warm enough for reindeer, and the sheer amount of cholesterol problems such a man would develop from eating so many cookies.

But whether or not such a being exists on a physical level, the spirit of giving is very real, incarnated into a fat man or not.

Throughout this small blue planet called Earth, people have brought trees into their homes and decorated them, placing gifts underneath. Others have lit candles in memory of a holy miracle that guided their people through dark times. Others wish to celebrate a more recent alternative, celebrating their heritage as a people who survived slavery. And others prefer older alternatives, old as the Gods themselves.

It is true that some prefer the receiving to the giving. But to others, the act of giving fills them with a holiday spirit that cannot be explained.

Because through this giving, they become a part of the spirit of holiday love towards mankind. Through this giving, they become, in their own way, Santa Claus.
[identity profile] starfire-kory.livejournal.com
Coming from a species of fliers, Koriand'r is accustomed to considering the currents of air as she travels. The differences in temperatures rarely matter to her, but on Earth she quickly learned to avoid the currents carrying pollutants or noxious smells.

Water currents, she tells herself, are not so different. More importantly, after studying one of the maps Lt. Farrow gave them at the briefing, she now believes she understands why the Pacific shipping lanes run as they do, and why the attacks are clustered thus.

"X'hal, the size of this ocean," she murmurs. They cannot simply hope to wander the shipping lanes and stumble upon these pirates. Much as she itches to fly a search pattern now, she has learned something of that human quality, patience: especially when she remembers the lessons of the Warlords of Okaara on how sometimes even righteous anger is not the best weapon to use.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
While the Titans have worked with the US Coast Guard before, receiving an official visit from a liaison is a much rarer experience. Lieutenant (junior grade) Emily Farrow arrives on time, looking crisp and professional in her service dress blues, and once the greetings and pleasantries are observed, the Titans escort her to their conference room.

The young officer wastes little time in beginning her presentation. "As you know, the situation in Cuba has been a major security concern for the Department of Defense as well as the Department of Homeland Security," she begins. "But we have our own security concerns on this coast, and the captain wishes to make use of all available resources." She gives the Titans a friendly smile. "That means reaching out to the Titans to assist us with our mission of maritime safety and security."

Her expression sobers. "In recent months, there've been reports of increased pirate activity just outside international waters and the California coast. In particular, container ships carrying export goods from Indonesia are being attacked. The cargo is rarely recovered, and the crews are either killed or held for ransom. As you can imagine, the economic consequences for US companies could be severe. But beyond that, piracy is considered another form of terrorism these days, and we're already starting to see a chilling effect in the Pacific. If this goes on, we could be facing diplomatic as well as economic consequences." She looks at Cyborg and Starfire, then at the remaining Titans gathered around the conference table. "If you're willing to accept this mission, I am authorized to provide you with certain reassurances and assistance, mostly in the form of information."
[identity profile] gar-logan.livejournal.com
(Continued from here.)
The images shown to him from the Artifact have been a mix of light and dark, but the majority has been dark, then darker, then finally darkest, finally letting him loose.

The exit from the vision is almost like a diver coming up for air, a loud gasp as he emerges, staggering back away from it quickly.

"Oh my GOD!" is his first thought and exclamation.

After seeing what had happened after this, his mind is so rattled, he can't think straight, heart thudding away, adrenaline pumping through his body.
[identity profile] middle-amazon.livejournal.com
Sometime in the nebulous futures which may or may not come to pass...

She was made Persephone's Champion years ago when her husband challenged Hades for her life. That position came with other duties, some unforeseen. One of them is a guide for heroes who have fallen through either the blessings of long years or almost expected death of warriors. It's a special place which is not quite in any afterlife but one that borders on them all - and it's not a place the Gods can go but she can, which is why she guides now...
[identity profile] gar-logan.livejournal.com
In the midst of the San Francisco Riots, Gar Logan is still glued to the spot in front of the Artifact as it quickly shows another facet.

The day had been long, but training had gone quite well.

Well, it had gone well for Gar, but even better for the opponent who left him with light bruises, slight ache and an accidental scorch or three on his jumpsuit.

Entering his quarters, he checked for any messages on the database, only finding the typical ton of questions about the Tower usually found coming from new members, quite a few from his new sparring partner. As usual, he answered them swiftly, directing them to useful files stored in the Tower itself.

Cricking his neck to the side, he quickly finishes the rest.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
It started as a candlelight vigil in Golden Gate park put on by the Unitarian Church, praying for a swift and peaceful end to the current crisis in Cuba.

But even the most peaceful of protests can attract a rowdier element. Just as the vigil begins to disperse, an argument between two individuals escalates into a shouting match between their groups. Shouting turns to shoving, and when the kindly mininster tries to break it up, he gets slugged.

The peaceful protest has now spilled out to the nearby streets. Trash cans are upset, windows are broken, and one car is already a flaming wreck.

The Southern US may be closer to the trouble, but the panic reaches this far north.
[identity profile] fleet-feet.livejournal.com
The Flash is on the job - pondering a vacation from said job.

He's feeling a bit burned out lately, but he has no idea what he'd do if he took time off.

He's heard a few reports about some funky orb going around, so he's trying to find it and corral it for study.

He comes across it sooner than he expected, and he's not quite ready for what it's going to show him...
[identity profile] lexcorp-media.livejournal.com

(The programming of most networks will find themselves pre-empted this morning at around 9:45 AM, as their various anchorwomen - the ones that handle the big news - will find themselves in front of their customary desks.  Each of them tends to provide variations on the same theme...)

We have preliminary reports coming in that the country of Cuba has been invaded by forces whose nationality and allegiance remain, at the moment, unknown.

The invasion begin at approximately 8:15 this morning, as preliminary reports coming from Havana, the nation's capital, briefly began to sound alarms before all communications were cut from the entirety of the island, including the naval base located on Guantanamo Bay.  Attempts to secure satellite surveillance of the area have been fruitless for all but the first 90 seconds of the attack.   This is considered to be an unnatural radio silence.   An inside source has also stated to us that there is currently no communication with the naval base as well.

There has been no preliminary comments from any arm of the American Government since the fighting was reported to have began.  What we do know is that no source available to us has been able to gather any information as to who has invaded, or how they got there, as no standard form of transportation to our knowledge was used.  Additionally, it is not believed that any form of nuclear or biochemical attack has been perpetuated at this time, although given the circumstances this is currently very hard to corroborate. 

As many know, Cuba has been a longtime key strategic position due to it's relative proximity to the southern seaboard of the United States...

[identity profile] starfire-kory.livejournal.com
"No, I haven't talked to Raven tonight," Starfire says, looking confused. "I have tried to approach her several times, but she continues to move away." She shrugs gracefully. "Well, I will not force my company upon her. Perhaps she simply is uncomfortable in this crowd.
[identity profile] blackest-bird.livejournal.com
She waited until the crowd was leaving the theatre to approach that strange mind she sensed from the balcony, keeping herself to the shadows as in pairs or groups the patrons walked ignorantly past her.

She scared the Armani off of a middle-aged man when she perked having spotted the white haired...person. She paid him no mind as he grumbled about costumed freaks having no sense of propriety and continued on his way.

She strode up purposely to the female looking thing with the white hair, but not menacingly.

"You are not human."
[identity profile] -nightwing-.livejournal.com
In the newly-completed Titans compound's public briefing room, the assembled members of Titans East gather to a packed house of reporters.

It's take months of headache-inducing bureaucracy, construction, and setbacks, but at last, the massive structures that comprise the Titans' latest and most technologically up-to-date home is finished.

"Thank you all for coming," Nightwing begins, as cameras flash and lights glare.

It's a long way from those earliest days, he thinks, as he surveys the team and the press. So much has happened. So much has changed. And yet ... some things never do. Like teamwork. Like the feeling of being among family. Something the Justice League has never had for him. They work for a common goal. Titans work and die to keep everyone together while we do it.

"This is an historic moment for us. We'd like to thank everyone of the great city of Philadelphia again for welcoming us as they have, and we hope to be worthy of that welcome for years to come. I'm proud to be a Titan, and I speak for all of us when I say we're proud to be part of Philadelphia's future."

The press conference will last for perhaps half an hour. The private, all-Titans-invited party that will continue behind closed doors will probably, he figures, last most of the night...

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