[identity profile] grodd-is-king.livejournal.com
Grodd had slipped away from the gathering and was heading to rendezvous with his jet. He was positive no one saw him leave, but he knew it was only a matter of time before someone detected it. He would have to act quickly if he was to evacuate Gotham before anyone could catch up with him.

'Should have brought a damn teleportation device. Either that or ask that psycho Sorrow to take me with him. No, that would not have ended well.'

Grodd reached the point the jet was to land at, and frustratingly realized he'd have to wait.
[identity profile] jla-villains.livejournal.com
Mr. Freeze had been brooding in Bludhaven along with a number of the others who had escaped from the carnage in Gotham. Freeze himself had placed the blame for the situation quite plainly on the shoulders of the Batman; where was he when Freeze was ready to strike against Blackfire? Telling him to hold his fire, that's where. And then Freeze was ambushed, and it all fell apart.

Freeze had been coldly staring at the Bat, not even rising to the provocations of Copperhead or the other costumed criminals in attendance. So much for Gotham's saviour. He was a fraud; Freeze had known it ever since poor dear sweet beautiful Nora had passed away due to Batman's machinations. It was all he could do not to ring the bastard's neck, but alas, with his coolant system impaired he could barely move.

By the time Blue Beetle had fixed him up the Bat had gone, no doubt to deliberate with other vigilantes. Freeze had hunted him awhile, but found no trace of the elusive 'hero'. And then Nightwing showed up in Batman's stead, as the voluntary leader of a strike team going back into Gotham through a tunnel that ran beneath the river. The Batman had apparently gone on ahead and ensured the coast was clear. Freeze volunteered for Nightwing's group, determined that once he caught up to the Caped Crusader he'd be made to answer for his failings.

So emerging into Gotham, out of a parking lot beneath... Freeze looks up and sees the unlit symbol of Wayne Enterprises and grimaces. That giant symbol had been a constantly lit beacon for some time. He looks at his companions. The Black Spider, Copperhead, Wonder Girl, Flamebird and of course, Nightwing. 

"So, Nightwing." Freeze rests against a wall, breathing deeply. He still isn't fully recovered from his earlier injuries. "You know Bludhaven, but can you claim to know Gotham as well as me? Where would you propose we strike, hm? And who against? The enemy are all around. Every civilian is a potential murderer or pair of eyes for Blackfire. Do we have a target?"
[identity profile] tim-drake-robin.livejournal.com
The GCPD building downtown was built like a bunker. It wasn't pretty in any sense of the word, but it was solid and more importantly, very defensible. Years of weathering Gotham's particular breed of nightlife had proven a veritable crucible to shake out the building's vulnerabilities and the end product had proven to be an unforeseen godsend in the middle of the Hell Gotham had been transformed into.

The roof of the structure was the primary point of interest at this moment. From this vantage point, one could see smoke rising in columns across the crimson skyline of the city and there was a view of the smoldering ruins of the main bridges that once lead out of Gotham proper. On the roof itself, dozens of hapless uniformed officers lay unconscious in the wake of the arrival of the building's most recent interlopers. It couldn't be helped. Robin consoled himself with the silver lining that there had been no fatalities. Considering some of his temporary 'allies', that was a fairly impressive accomplishment.

It was a fairly simple matter to hook up the propane powered emergency generator to the large tarnished spotlight. Even so, time was a precious commodity now and the shrieks of Darkseid's Furies echoing in the streets of Gotham reminded Robin that every second they stayed in one place left them vulnerable. He was regretting the inclusion of Cicada and Bane into their group a little less right now.

"Okay, this should do it."

Putting one foot on the clunky machine for leverage, Robin pulls the starter cord in one even draw and is rewarded as the machine sputters to life.

"Hit it!"
[identity profile] azure-avenger.livejournal.com
Beetle sets the Bug down on a hill - the lights of Gotham would be visible from here, if not for Grodd's actions at the power plant. Still, there's a few disturbingly orange glows reflecting off the clouds overhead - the first signs of Darkseid claiming the city for his own.

The unaffected population of Gotham has been, for the most part, evacuated thanks to the quick thinking of Dr. Fate - Bludhaven emergency responders are already tending to the injured nearby.

So now, the heroes - and possibly some of the villains - have breathing room to actually come up with a plan.
[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] elfinlantern.livejournal.com
Arisia hasn't been in her below the bar apartment in awhile. She's be busy cleaning up after the whole Sinestro issue and then there had been an outbreak of Graxosian measles (the closest English approximation) in her home sector. Then she had family obligations she needed to take care of while she was in the area....

Well, she's been kept away from Earth for awhile, especially as she wanted to make sure she wasn't going to bring anything contagious back with her. These things can be tricky, even for Oan power rings to spot. So, settling back into the apartment is a little strange. Going back to something more of a day job is even /more/ strange. This place runs without her well enough but she likes to help, likes to be here.

After a nap and a shower, she's back out walking the floor, checking the inventory and taking orders with a smile on her face.
[identity profile] jla-goldenage.livejournal.com
While the team is away, other members of the JSA have remained behind. One in particular received a visitor who has a "rotating" sort of admission.

And he's not happy at the moment.

"Do you know...no. That's a stupid question. I know you do. But you want to tell me one good reason why there's been no change yet?"

He stares forward, and across the table at his teammate, steeling for the reply.

Regrouping

Jan. 10th, 2010 11:18 pm
[identity profile] swiftjustice.livejournal.com
Back at the Brownstone, Jay is preparing the JSA's jet for departure after a quick briefing.

"If Savage stole what we think he did, he could be on the verge of rendering himself virtually invulnerable to attack - we need to proceed with caution. Damn Luthor's timing - we could've taken care of this hours ago."
[identity profile] jsaboss.livejournal.com
"CLEAR THE AREA!" Mr. Terrific bellows, forcing the doors to the JSA's makeshift emergency room open. "We've got a tension pneumothorax moving in. Pieter...I need you on the ready immediately!"

The team leader starts to usher in the wounded team-members, dispersing others to go aid. "If you can move, and can help, do so. We've got a city at threat-level red going here. GO!"

Terrific reaches to his earpiece, pausing to regain physical control for a split second, appearing to momentarily shimmer. "Is he holding up still? I need a sit-rep."
[identity profile] monstersociety.livejournal.com
"What would Kobra do to a pretender to the throne of his worldwide terrorist organisation?" Dr. Light curls his right hand in a fist, and brings it down to celebrate getting the right question/answer. "Jeopardy!!"

Arthur Light is alone in a dark cell within the Brownstone, not that he knows that. Since his capture by Jade and Hourman, he has completely forgotten where he is or what he was doing when he met the two superheroes, and in fact, barely recalls his tenure as the leader of Kobra. He does recall being thrown into one of Kobra's Lazarus Pits though, once the true Kobra returned... And the subsequent horrific pain that it caused him. But the mental debilitation (or insanity, as some might call it) that it caused him has gone so far unnoticed by the costumed villain.

And he hasn't actually explained to anyone how he has returned to this less than subtle villainous state, partly because of his loss of memory, but also because none of the JSA have got around to speaking with him yet. As far as things go, a ga-ga Dr. Light is low on the priority list of the local heroic community.

A dim light is switched on outside of his cell. Not enough for Arthur to draw power from, but enough to awaken him back to a state of semi-normality, and focus on the hero looking at him. "Are you Alex Trebek?"
[identity profile] proto-humanist.livejournal.com
Several global news networks have sent representatives. His message will go out on channels all around the world. Putting a smile on his face, Vandal Savage steps out onto the stage that has been prepared. A large podium stands in front of his manor house on New Albion - and some of his new lieutenants already are waiting on the stage.

He steps up to the microphone and clears his throat - the assembled press corps falling silent and starting to feed his image to their home organizations.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. I am Vandal Savage. The world knows me as a villain - a regular opponent of the Justice Society of America. I do not deny this. The world knows me to be an ambitious man, who believes himself deserving of the rulership of the world. I do not deny that, either."

Savage pauses for effect, then continues.

"Some of you, then, may ask yourselves why would you accept the invitation I am extending. To join me on New Albion, where I intend to establish a nation of few laws and minimal taxes, where men and women are meant to live as free as they please. Some of you may be suspicious of my motives in doing so. However, all of you will remember the invasion of the alien alliance scant few years ago. The Dominators. The Khund. The Psions."

"I believe I am the only person who can lead the world through the alien attacks that will surely come in the future. I am, in a sense, the world's ultimate survivor. And I have a keen interest in seeing this world, and my own species, survive with me. For time beyond reckoning, I have sought to establish my leadership through conquest. Perhaps I could do so again - but I believe humanity's willing cooperation will be necessary to fight off future alien invasions, so I have decided to forgo my usual approach."

"New Albion will be a shining example of what humanity can do together. Its citizens will enjoy free health care and basic essentials; low tax rates; and the complete noninterference of government in matters such as freedom of speech, press, and religion. It will be a libertarian paradise, without sacrificing the quality of mercy for those less fortunate, thanks to the technology and techniques at my disposal. I have created this island, but I wish to share it with any of you willing to come."

He smiles.

"I will now take questions."
[identity profile] greatest-zatara.livejournal.com
Zach sat on the couch in the living room of the Brownstone, half a dozen grimoires,two books on chemical compounds, and one booklet about knots floating around him as he jotted down notes. Tourist season was going to be hitting Florida soon, and he needed to crank up the act a little bit. Most of the crowds never gave a second thought to how the sets worked, which was the whole point. Stage magic wasn't as much arcane as it was sleight of hand and misdirection. Keep them looking at your left hand while the right one is still pulling rabbits.

He had to admit, supposedly being a member of the JSA had it's perks. It was a comfy enough place with relatively few interruptions during the slower parts of his work week, and he could be there when the ones his age were still in school.

And the sandwiches were awesome. One of them was circling too.
[identity profile] blackest-knight.livejournal.com
The cruise ship is about a mile and a half out to sea. Not very far, all things considered, but far enough to allot some privacy.

Granted, not a lot. Apparently a gay superhero wedding, especially with a world-renowned supermodel in the wedding party draws media attention. But then, they'd planned on that. It had been wanted, really. Because while this is an event to celebrate love, it's also there to send a message.

The last-minute guests are coming in, those who can fly anyways. Some in their costumes, some dressed as ordinary civilians.

The ushers--Ted, Sand, and Michael--are leading guests to seats, and of course everyone is making conversation. Damon's friends and few present family members are trying hard to not gape and stare and gawk at the heroes who've shown up in costume, though a few have gone to ask for autographs and pictures.

Todd is standing with his groomsmen, greeting friends and family alike as they come in. With Al, Rick, and Dad at his side. He's totally not feeling any jitters. No sirree. Not at all nervous over this.

No second thoughts at least, and he's serious about that part. There's nothing in the world he'd rather be doing.

He's just really terrified of it.
[identity profile] cosmiccourtney.livejournal.com
"Ew."

That's the first word out of Courtney's mouth as she cleans behind one of the sofas at the JSA Brownstone. Ma's cookies are good, but not when they look like they've been sitting behind the sofa for about a month and a half.

She's volunteered to clean the Brownstone this weekend. Not that she minds at all, she normally jumps at the chance to give Ma an extra hand.

It's normally not that messy anyway...but it really looks as if no one's cleaned behind these couches in a really long time.

And...is that someone's sock? Covered in...green fuzz?

"Oh that is just disgusting."
[identity profile] 3x2-9yz-4a.livejournal.com
Everything has been set up at the brownstone, on this clear crisp day in April.

With Ma Hunkel's assistance, food had been prepared, along with a BBQ currently heating up and sending scented smoke up into the air.

And invitations had been sent out to everyone that Jesse could think of, that simply said, Come help us celebrate the birthday of one of our dear friends, Jay Garrick, April 3rd, 2009, at the JSA brownstone.
[identity profile] just-donna.livejournal.com
"Where is it? Don't tell me someone got to it already..."

Donna's pillaging through the freezer at the Titans' East Compound. She's stashed a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream away, and after the workout she's just had, figures that it would be the perfect reward....that is, if someone hasn't gotten their hands on it first. Although, she's very protective of her ice cream, sticking notes all over the container warning that whoever touches it without her knowing is dead.

"Come on, there's no way that someone found it this quickly."

Her hand reaches to pull aside two bags of frozen assparagus (who's idea was that anyway?). She's tossed one bag to the side when she sees it. Success!

She yanks the container out of the freezer, nearly spilling a pile of frozen dinners onto the floor. It's unopened. Perfect.

Donna doesn't even grab a bowl. Just a spoon. She takes a seat at the counter and hastily opens the container. Scooping up a spoonful, she takes a bite and sighs.
[identity profile] last-lantern.livejournal.com
The jingling of a bell near the front door of the Warrior's bar signals the arrival of another patron, one that will be familiar to the owner, if not most of the bar's staff. He casts about the room, looking this way and that, frowning when he realizes that he is the first to arrive. He simply stands for a moment, looking; it's been quite a while since he's been in Guy's bar, but the good times that he has shared with his fellow Lanterns in this place instantly come flooding back. A smile pulls at the edges of Kyle's lips as his eyes sweep over the decor.

"You can go ahead and seat yourself. The waitress will be right over," comes an explanation from one of the staff.

"Thanks. I'm just meeting a few folks," Kyle replies, nodding to the woman and making his way over to a vacant booth. The vinyl creaks as he slides into the booth, looking outside. It's the middle of the day, but the winter clouds obscure the sun, and Kyle lifts his hand to his mouth, breathing into them, rubbing his hands together. It's still cold outside and probably will stay that way for some time.

"I'm waiting until a few other folks get here," he says, waving the waitress off with a smile.

Hal had called this meeting, but he was nowhere in sight. Not surprising that he would be late. Ah, well. Kyle reaches for the menu, idly flipping through it; standard bar fare, the pickings are fairly slim. He'd only caught the tail end of the other Lanterns' conversation during the Christmas Party on the Watchtower  - having been completely engrossed in the green-haired woman he'd met that night - but Kyle has a feeling he knows what this is about.

Sinestro's back, and this time, he's not alone.

[identity profile] swiftjustice.livejournal.com
Jay Garrick, dressed in an old but still somewhat fashionable suit, makes his way into one of Gotham's swankier restaurants. Soft background muzak plays in the background, and many people are dressed to the nines - tuxes and evening gowns.

The meal promised to be expensive, but the conversation would be worth it. He signals the maitre'd.

"Reservation, under the name of Garrick. I'm not sure how many will be coming.."

He slips the fellow a twenty dollar bill in exchange for the assurance that that won't be a problem, and is lead inside..
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
This holiday season, there is no phony distress call, no false alarm of an impending alien invasion. In fact, the invitations had been sent out weeks ago to as many individuals as the Watchtower's party planning committee could think of - with some help from the Justice League's computerized roster, of course. Small cards requesting RSVPs had been distributed to members of the League, the Justice Society, the Titans East and West, as well as other, smaller teams and unaffiliated heroes.

The moonbase's commissary has been transformed by Ma Hunkel and her contingent of culinary assistants - experts and neophytes alike - into a veritable assembly line producing mind-boggling quantities of food, the aroma of the feast filling the corridors of the Watchtower, drifting as far away as the teleporter room. Apart from the mouth-watering smells, tasteful holiday decorations throughout the moonbase provide an even more festive atmosphere, and although the League has always been a rather inclusive group, there is no doubting the influence of the modern American conceptualization of Christmas, as evinced by the impressively lit Christmas tree in the main assembly hall, not to mention the various poinsettias, wreathes, and garlands.

It would seem, however, that someone put the kibosh on the ill-conceived notion of piping in Christmas music, and, thus, the Watchtower does not exactly capture the feeling of a mall department store in full holiday sale swing.

There will be food and drink enough for all - all manner of entrees, sides, and a bounty of cookies and desserts, not to mention egg nog, hot toddies, and other adult holiday beverages - and good company, perhaps some gift-giving and even a kiss or two under a sprig of mistletoe.

As the heroes gather, the mood will be light and easy, but, perhaps one of the more veteran of Earth's champions will utter a few words to reflect on not only the season, but also the trials, tribulations, and successes of the last year.
[identity profile] anaturalgreen.livejournal.com
They'd all been informed that there was a new guy coming to meet with the JSA, a relative of Zatanna.

So Jennie-Lynn was there, early even, to greet him when he came by the Brownstone. She wants to make sure he feels welcome, and if she has to drag her teammates there by their ears, she wouldn't hesitate.

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