[identity profile] spirit-of-truth.livejournal.com
There are strange things happening with Diana's gods and not the Flash says one of them is in Keystone. The odds are on it being Hermes, though when Zatanna teleports them into town, she doesn't see anyone that looks like Hermes at all.

Frowning, she turns around in a circle before starting to head up into the air. Something has come through here but it isn't right here, right now.

"Be on your guard."
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
Something very strange is happening in the dimension of Mount Olympus. If it can be called a dimension. It's difficult to describe really. One day it might be an interplanar realm, another it might be a country. One night it could be an island in an impossibly large sea, while another time it could be a kingdom in the clouds.

Either way, something strange is happening.

As Zeus lays sleeping in his oversized bed the powers of his fellow and subservient deities are disappearing. Disappearing may be too strong a word... They're relocating. A smile twitches on the face of the god of all gods as he dreams of what is happening. As he considers the trials that Diana of Themyscira will have to endure and conquer, with the powers of the gods inhabiting the bodies of her allies and enemies upon Earth.

Zeus is less than happy with the Wonder Woman's lack of constant supplication to his whims. Perhaps she needs to prove herself a champion once more... At any rate; Zeus sleeps, and he dreams of those who will take on the powers of the gods...
[identity profile] zatanna-z.livejournal.com
The last thing Zatanna remembered was being somewhat impressed that she got everyone back to the Watchtower without them having the wrong heads on their bodies. Pretty much right after blackness fuzzed out the edges of her sight and her knees went weak. Then nothing. She'd worn herself out with that one. Trying to grab a hold of specific people to teleport with them all skattered about was not something she was going to try again any time in the near future.

She woke up feeling rumpled and less than at optimum performance in one of the spare rooms. Her head was wobbly and her stomach was holding her backbone hostage. Apparently her blood sugar plummetted and food was a priority. Wrinkling her nose she slipped out of the bed to head down the hall in search of food then a ride back to Shadowcrest after finding out how Guy was doing. She didn't want to try another teleport so soon on a bet, thanks.

The Return

Mar. 15th, 2011 01:35 pm
[identity profile] beware-my-power.livejournal.com
Zatanna's spell had whisked the team back to the safety of the Justice League Watchtower, along with the target of their rescue attempt - and one extra passenger. After taking a moment to see Arisia and Tora could get Guy directly to the medical bay, Hal focuses his ring very carefully on that extra passenger - glowing with barely-checked energy.

[identity profile] mr-henshaw.livejournal.com
Across planet Earth on every major television network, every radio and every live stream using satellites to broadcast, the head and shoulders of the Cyborg Superman appears. Using his mastery over technopathy he broadcasts his message.

"People of Earth. Some few of you may know me as Hank Henshaw. I am also known to many as the Cyborg Superman. To most however, I am seen as the destroyer of Coast City."

The backdrop behind Henshaw's face turns to an image of the emblem of Neo Rann, rippling as if in the wind. "Not long ago I was released from my imprisonment on Oa by the Green Lantern Guardians, who assured me of my freedom. Wanting to start a new life for myself and for my friends, fellow outsiders, we met with representatives from species all over the known galaxy. It was made clear to us that a great threat existed in the universe, and this threat was known as Rann. A planet whose technology rivals even that of the beings that invaded Gotham City in your United States of America in recent months. With charters from multiple intelligent races and conglomerates I ended the Rannian threat, and occupied their abandoned territory."

An image of Neo Rann's position in the galaxy compared to that of Earth replaces the emblem. "Neo Rann poses no threat to planet Earth. We simply wish to build a home for outsiders such as myself. Yet at this very moment we are under attack by so-called heroes of Earth, including Green Lanterns who had until recently condoned my freedom." Henshaw raises a fist. "Once again I say we pose no threat to Earth, but were Earth attacked would you not make a retributive strike? I want it to be known that if the hand of Neo Rann is forced against Earth it is a reluctant gesture, and one forced by the aggression of your metahumans and the galactic vigilante squad known as the Green Lantern Corps. Any deaths on your world due to Neo Rann's reprisals can be laid at their doors. I offer peace providing they withdraw from Neo Rann this very instant."

Henshaw clenches his jaw and a solitary tear rolls down his cheek. "Please make them stop the violence, for we do not wish to harm anybody upon your planet. If we are forced to take actions, the blood is on the hands of the men and women you call your heroes. All we want is peace."

The transmission is cut, and back on Neo Rann the image of Henshaw turns to Malefic and smiles.


What do the people of Earth think of this?
[identity profile] jla-villains.livejournal.com
Lucius didn't know why Mr. G called off the Donaldson job. Apparently he now wanted these gangsters killed to make way for the 100 syndicate. 'He must be a bigshot in the outfit, maybe even the boss. Eh, doesn't matter. The money's he's shelling out for this he can be whomever he wants to be.'

Da'Bomb flew overhead until he caught sight of the building that the remants of Brick's gang we're meeting. According to what he'd been told they we're all there, so he wouldn't have to worry about backtracking. He'd better get this right, Mr G. had intimated as much. Lucius gulped, he reallyu didn't want to think about what he could do with those mental powers of his.

He landed on the roof of a building close by. He checked out the base of the building and smiled as he found a structural weakness. He extended his right hand to "touch the spot" and send these gangbangers to hell.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
Daniel "Brick" Brickwell was not in a good mood. It had taken a lot longer than he had thought it would to secure his release from prison, and more expensive.

"Judges," he muttered darkly. He was being driven home in his custom-made limousine, though it's comfort did little to ease his mood. "And they call me a criminal. So Bobby, how have things been on the streets?"

"Not so good, Mr. Brickwell." Robert Taylor was Brick's number two man on the outside and often acted as the crime boss' chauffeur. "Green Arrow's still harassing us, people aren't kicking up payments anymore, and.."


"Word on the street is that the Whale's coming to Star City..permanently."

"Fucking hell, that's just what I need." Tobias Whale was a big fish, no pun intended, in the underworld. He led the 100, a powerful outfit out of Metropolis. "Why the fuck is he coming here?"

"He's become a big shot in the corporate world and he's using that to expand his influence nationally. Seems he wants to start here."

Brick cursed to himself as the limo pulled up to his penthouse. His organization was in no condition to fight a gang war, especially not against someone with the resources of Tobias Whale. Not to mention the fact that Green Arrow was likely to be on his ass now that he was out of prison.

"Get the word out to the captains, we need to have a sit down."

Bobby nods as he opens Brick's door. Brick looks at his penthouse and mutters to himself. "It'll be a miracle if that Robin Hood wannabe didn't loot it while I was gone. Oh well, might as well get inventory over with."

Brick growls in annoyance as he enters his home.
[identity profile] metromarvel.livejournal.com
It had been a nice day at the park...

...Superman struggles desperately, held back by the rubbery muscle and sinew of two massive green skinned ogres. This shouldn't have been a problem, even with the feminine harpy guarding the sky and the sneering rat faced man keeping an eye on him for 'tricks'.

But the Game Master had other plans...the thin young man in thick glasses and an old t-shirt would be harmless, if not for the sickening green glow the twenty sided die in his hand emitted.

"So, you thought you could spoil my 're education' LARP camp, eh Superman?!" The Game Master chortled, relishing the wince of pain in the Man of Steel's face as he stepped closer. "But you didn't count on my having this polyhedron...made of Green Kryptonite!"

"Rat Fink!" The Game Master snapped, "Get the Minotaur costume! With Superman himself as my loyal ally, nothing will stop me from conquering Metropolis's underworld!"
[identity profile] 10xspeedoflight.livejournal.com
The Flash sits in one of the living chambers of the JLA Watchtower, which has now been stabilised after the Fadeaway Man's attempt to destroy it with a black hole weapon. His hands are on either side of his face, his elbows on his thighs, and he's leaning forward. This is all too odd, and all too confusing. One moment he's a part of the Speed Force, and now he's sat down in the Watchtower, waiting for the Justice League to come along and start asking questions. He just wants to know how Iris is, to see her again, and to hold her in his arms. He needs to move. But he also knows that doing so is going to throw more questions in the air.

"So I'm guessing a lot has changed since I've been gone, Hal." Barry looks at a photo on the other side of the quarters, showing a line-up of one of the previous Justice Leagues, formed after hid death. There are quite a number of people there he doesn't recognise. "Who's in the current roster? Did anyone else die... when I did?"
[identity profile] femme-du-chat.livejournal.com
All of the research has been done.

All of the information has been collected.

All of the properties with Lex Luthor's name still attached, few that they are, have been diverted elsewhere. All of the properties that /used/ to have his name attached are now on a list and that list has been generally enchanted by one man who has the name of Constantine.

It is one of the stupid things that comes with magic - there must always be totems and symbols associated with anything that means something. Sacrifice and cost are high up on the list as well - especially the way her friend does magic.

It feels a little anti-climactic to be standing here in this hotel room, alone and done. If Lex Luthor... when Lex Luthor comes back, he'll have to start over from scratch.

It isn't much but it is what it is.

And now she has to decide what comes next.

That means she needs to make a call or two.
[identity profile] aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com
Dick is getting off his motorcycle in front of the JSA Brownstone. He's in civvies, but he's also wearing a helmet and riding leathers, so he might as well be in costume. Only inside the Brownstone does he doff his helmet, shaking loose his shaggy, sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes to look around.

Somewhere in here is Oliver Queen. And they need to talk.

Bird Calls

May. 20th, 2010 01:33 am
[identity profile] canary-noir.livejournal.com

She had just been getting in the shower when her cell phone buzzed with a text.  Dinah groaned and the bottom of her stomach fell out.  She had a date tonight.  Well, not some kind of important this-is-definitely-going-to-go-somewhere kind of a date, but more the so-here-we-are-in-the-grocery-store-and-I-see-you-like-Ramen-Noodles-as-much-as-I-do-maybe-we-could-eat-some-together-some-time kind.  With someone not involved in the superhero community and therefore- by most standards- a total nobody.  Okay sure, this wasn't going to end up in a happily ever after, but hey, when you have a Ferrarri, every now and then you just had to take it out for a spin.  And it was about damn time someone asked Dinah out on a spin.  And then... This.  That little buzzing that managed to ruin her evening before it even started. 

She grabbed a towel and wrapped up, stalling answering the text while she chanted in her head, Please don't let it be Babs, please don't let it be Babs, Pleaseohpleaseohplease don't let it be Babs.  Then she picked it up. 

Dinah rolled her eyes skyward at the universe's hilarious joke.  Well.  It wasn't Babs.  Dammit.

And finally she returned the text:

[To: Ollie Queen
You owe me.  Where do I meet you?]
[identity profile] jl-scoundrels.livejournal.com
Max Shreck sits, brooding, back in his luxurious penthouse office in Gotham City, at the top of Shreck's department store. Or rather, it would be luxurious had it not recently been the scene of a raid by Mr. Freeze and a bunch of his parka-wearing goons. As it is now, Shreck sits in a torn up leather chair, real hand pressed against prosthetic hand, blankly surveying the scene of destruction. Even his stuffed chihuahua Geraldo has been defiled by the crooks, its back strategically shaved and head lopped off.

"Where did it all go wrong...?" A lesser man would weep. Max just takes it out on his employees, his son and on Catalina, when he has the opportunity. Chip and Catalina had been wise enough to maintain a distance lately, but there had been more than one manager or consultant ask him how he was doing, only to find their desks boxed up by the time they got back.

Max presses the button on the new intercom, which has just been placed on the damaged table rather than secured to it. "Send in Ms. Reyes, please." He puts his fingers together again, and waits for Catalina to enter.
[identity profile] j-onn-j-onzz.livejournal.com
J'onn had been working on some things, being at the ready for the heroes return, when...well, they returned.

"It is good to see you home."  J'onn said, doing a quick head count.  "Were you successful?"
[identity profile] j-onn-j-onzz.livejournal.com
J'onn was one of the first to react to Hal's summons.   When hearing the explanation, the glimmer of hope...something that J'onn, despite everything, has been able to find on a regular basis...resonated in J'onn's mind.

It very well might not be Batman.   But it COULD be.

However, Hell was not exactly the best place for a pyrophobe to be.  J'onn had already known that he would be the mental link, the tether, that would help to bring the team back if Wotan was as duplicitous as his reputation said it was.

"When Romaine killed Terry Sloane,"  J'onn told those assembled, "he did it in Jay Garrick's body.  It is not out of the realm of possibility that he might try to possess one of you, especially if you somehow get separated in the battle.  Try to stay paired up as much as possible, even in the chaos of it all.   Even if he has newfound power, he is likely to default to what he is comfortable and familiar with."
[identity profile] dr-nee.livejournal.com
Roy had got a call from Oliver saying that he need to have a word, after the whole deal with The Skinner the two of them had actually gotten close. Pulling up to the Queen house he wondered what this 'talk' was all about.

Not even bothering to knock before he entered, he walked into the modest  house that the older hero shared with Mia and Connor, following his noes he made his way into the kitchen where Ollie stood at the stove putting together a pot of his infamous chilli.

"How long till it's ready?" He asked sitting at the round table, helmet and biker jacket already left in the hall.
[identity profile] dr-nee.livejournal.com
After following Ollie's directions, the pair found themselves pulling up outside a detached non de-script house with a pristine white flagpole just on the edge of the wooden porch, the typical Star Spangled Banner lightly catching the breeze.

What alarmed Roy and probably Green Arrow too, was the pair of marked police cars and the Humvee he had to park behind. Hopefully they were not too late and Major Langstrom was still alive and unlike Lucy Aston able to talk.

"This doesn't look too good." He commented to the blond-haired archer sitting beside him in Roy's customary rental car, a red convertible, before the pair alighted from it.
[identity profile] killa-croc.livejournal.com
A security guard that leaves a back door open while he steps out for a smoke? Well that's just terrible. Convenient for Croc though. He surprises the guard and smashes his head against the wall, knocking him out instantly. Peeking inside the open door, he can see a floor plan on the wall. Shrek had provided an honest to god dossier, a folder full of info, in extra large writing no less. Croc had no idea what to think of that, he figured he ought to be insulted but its hard to stay mad at a man practically handing you half a million dollars.

The guard looked dead, or his breathing was very shallow. Croc didn't particularly care, he took the man's security pass and headed on inside. The big ass sledgehammer he took on this trip, to make a point, at his side. Cut for violence )
[identity profile] just-donna.livejournal.com
"I don't care where you have to go, I want an antidote found for him now!"

Donna's arrived at Miami General, fresh from her and Roy's encounter with Cheshire.

The doctors are trying to do multiple tasks at once, from keeping Cheshire stable from the number of bullet wounds that she's gathered, to finding an antidote for the poison that's slowly nibbling at her husband.

For someone with an extraordinary amount of self-control, it's taking every single ounce of it to keep Donna from snapping Cheshire's pretty little neck.

The assassin was stable. Good.

Donna turns from the bed where Cheshire's lying to her husband.

"You really should lie down," she places a hand on his forehead, "You're burning up."
[identity profile] clackclickbang.livejournal.com
Rebecca Jarvis, Onomatopoeia, sits on a crate in a dockside warehouse, looking at her team-mates through tired eyes. This is her second Squad mission, and this one seems even more insane than the first. According to the briefing they all received, Cuban terrorists had smuggled a nuke into Miami somehow, and would be detonating said device within short order. Nobody had an exact time frame, nobody knew what they were waiting for, but the bomb is supposedly being guarded by fanatics with all manner of firearms. Enough to make the Suicide Squad necessary.

She looks at Count Vertigo as he clasps his cape around his neck. Rebecca sighs. She'd given up habitually using her mask, her doctor having advised that it was all part of the recovery to go without a costume. So although she has a bodysuit and a trenchcoat, no hood adorns her head.

Plastique and Bronze Tiger are talking near the warehouse doors. She's not spoken to them a great deal. She's not spoken to many of them a great deal. Cheshire seems to be more or less a psychopath, Vertigo seems arrogant as all hell, and Multiplex is just weird. Bane is strangely erudite, but... Her problem is more with their general attitude towards their crimes. None of them seem at all eager to rehabilitate. This Task Force X thing seems more just a means to get out on the street and kill more people, or steal more things.

She puts up her hand, and grabs Vertigo's attention. "Aren't we supposed to be listening in on their frequency to see when they're moving the bomb?"


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