[identity profile] toraolafsdotter.livejournal.com
The hush of the room is broken only by the pings and beeps of machines, all of them hooked to and transmitting information about the man currently laying in the hospital bed.

He's been still too long for Tora's comfort, and she was attempting to keep an eye out for any movement, any changes.

Not at the moment though, as she's curled up in a chair next to the bed, fast asleep.
[identity profile] beware-my-power.livejournal.com
The small rescue squad appears in the Alpha Centauri system, cloaked in magic to prevent detection, and invisibly encased within a power bubble provided by Green Lantern. Hal's ring passively scans, looking for traces of human life signs or Guy's ring - chirping when it has found both.

"Alright, team, we've got our targets."

The inside of the bubble shifts into a heads-up display, visible to the passengers. Small glowing dots appear, on the surface of Rann.

"We've got human life signs here and here - Lex and Guy - and we've got a Green Lantern power ring here. Our main objectives are Guy, first and foremost, and his ring, secondary. Since it'll be a lot easier to get him out if he's got the ring. Once we've got those things, we get out. Any reconnaissance you can do at the same time is great, but this is a rescue mission. Questions?"
[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] elfinlantern.livejournal.com
There are times when Arisia can convince herself that Earth is Graxos IV. There is a certain place in Central Park where it looks similar enough that if she doesn't pay attention to language, she feels like she's home. There are a few places near the Indian Ocean where the color of the water and the sky are just right.

Really, though, it isn't her home planet and it isn't her home sector and any time she looks up at the sky it is obvious. At home, she's always been something else - her entire family, for generations, have been chosen to be Lanterns and that sort of thing leaves an impression in the minds of others. It is like being royalty, except instead of just being born, you have to be chosen as well.

She still patrols her sector but most of it is quiet, peaceful and generally civilized. It is a good thing, though, as 2814 had more than enough going on that even if she /didn't/ have people here she cared about, she'd be here on a regular basis. One of these days, she'll figure out why Earth alone has the problems of almost any four other sectors combined.

As she looks down on her sometimes adopted home from just outisde of orbit, a faint green glow surrounding her, Arisia shakes her head. Such a small planet, not even very strategic, in the grand sense of things. It didn't stop everything from coming here. There had to be some sort of karmic magnet or... something going on down there.
[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] beware-my-power.livejournal.com
Hal steps up to the doors of the prison of Oa - the Sciencells, designed with the most advanced technology in the galaxy. The repairs necessitated by the Sinestro Corps's attack on Oa have been repaired, of course, and the facility holds many representatives of the 'Yellow Lanterns' within its walls.

As the security doors verify his identity, they open, and Hal wills himself into the air, floating through the portal - moving directly towards one cell in particular.

"Sinestro."
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_kip_/
The Justice League Watchtower has a highly sophisticated comm system that can send messages to individuals, to separate rooms, to separate floors or to the whole place. Right now, the entire system is activated. An emergency? Not quite. There is holiday music being played, from Vince Guaraldi to Nat King Cole to Ella Fitzgerald, classics all. And in the dining hall, a towering spruce tree has been erected. Atop a ladder, a young man sings along with the music as he carefully feels his way along the tree to hang lights. His usual attire of slacks and a neatly pressed shirt has been exchanged for jeans and a sweater with a red-nosed reindeer knitted into the fabric. Looks handmade, too.

Across a table near the front are at least eight pies of different sorts: fruit, chocolate, pumpkin, chess. Homemade, from the looks of it. A basket nearby seems to be brimming with cookies, too, and beside that basket are a few hot beverage dispensers labeled cocoa and mulled cider.

Someone is bringing the holiday spirit to the Watchtower.
[identity profile] elfinlantern.livejournal.com
Seeing that Sapphire light during the Sinestro conflict sent Arisia's thoughts into something of a spiral. That color of light has never meant good things for her nor much anyone else in any of the 3600 sectors. There is one place she goes when she's feeling like this but right now, going to see Mogo is different now.

Mogo is also in pain and Mogo is the one that needs comfort. Arisia is a good listening ear and maybe in talking to each other, they'll both find a way past where they are right now. She's also a fantasic healer, though she's not sure how she would even start to heal a planet of its wounds other than time.

She'd love to help Mogo figure it out. The power of the ring can allow her to do anything - even heal a planet. Once they can figure out how - together.
[identity profile] jla-glcorps.livejournal.com
The Green Lantern Corps has reconvened on Oa, treating their wounded and making preparations to pursue the Sinestro Corps - all their plans to strike before the Sinestro Corps makes another move have become suddenly moot.

The voice of one of the Guardians manifests from every active Green Lantern ring, accompanied by a tiny representation of the Guardian's head.

"Attention all Green Lanterns. We have detected a critical galactic threat. The Sinestro Corps has invaded Earth in Sector 2814 - and the Anti-Monitor has manifested in this universe on that planet. All active duty Green Lanterns are to report to planet Earth and engage the Sinestro Corps."

After the announcement, Ganthet turns to his brethren.

"And with the Anti-Monitor, the Green Lanterns will not be enough. We must prepare to go, ourselves."
[identity profile] guy-lantern.livejournal.com
A few hours of 'rip you a new one', courtesy of the 'OverSmurfs', hasn't done much for his mood.
Qward wasn't really a 'win'. It hadn't been a 'loss' either. Still, he has to wonder if getting other GLs hurt in the process had been worth it.
He didn't do 'doubt' well.
It pissed him off.

An hour and a half in the citadel gym on OA hed just left him more tired in addition to being pissed. A shower and shave later, he found himself in the barracks again. He should call Tora again, but not yet. He wanted to get his head together first.

Dammit.
[identity profile] jla-glcorps.livejournal.com
The small group of Green Lanterns who decided to pay Qward a visit are on their way back, and the assembled Guardians of the Universe are waiting on the Oan side of the portal for their return, managing to look as stern and disapproving as ever.

Qward

May. 4th, 2009 10:43 am
[identity profile] guy-lantern.livejournal.com
Creating a warp isn't kiddie stuff. Creating a warp into a parallel universe is major league. Pinpointing a trans dimensional warp to open at the cusp of a planetary atmosphere?
Now that’s a trick.

Guy should have bought a lottery ticket today, because he's on.

The emerald aperture opens for but a few seconds and the band of Green Lanterns come blazing out of it at speeds that ignite the atmosphere around them, turning each of them into veritable shooting stars as they careen at breakneck speeds towards the surface of Qward.

Dragging a cluster of asteroids behind him, Guy now uses the power of his ring, coupled with their current velocity, to fling the large debris ahead of them. The torrent of rock and minerals become a literal storm of hyper-accelerated particles raining down on the battlements and garrisons of the planet bellow.

"Knock knock, ya bastards!!"
[identity profile] guy-lantern.livejournal.com
"...WE'VE GOT A SNIPER!!!"

That was hours ago, and there's still trainee brains and blood on his face.


It's a bad situation and it could have been worse. He doesn't do 'scared' but Guy is grim. The rookies are spooked and there are too few of the vets around to bolster their morale.
He isn't the cool and collected military type to inspire the troops that John is.
He doesn't have the frickin 'Never fear! Ion is here!' rep Kyle does.
Hell, he doesn't even have the "Love me or hate me, but you do know me" groove Hal has.
So he plays to his strengths, Asshole.

"Git yer butt in gear rook!" he snarls at a wide-eyed trainee, standing amid the ruined structure.
"Yer pulling sewer clean-up duty if I don't see you doin double time NOW!"

Shaken out the state of shock, the mauve skinned alien blinks it's golden eyes and scurries quickly to the building indicated by the senior Lantern.

Gardner moves on and rousts more groups of rookies, the white circles on their uniforms still lacking of the lantern insignia that would mark them as full fledged GLs, and cajoles them back into action. Tasks and hard labor get dolled out like candy, winning him sullen glares and resentful looks amid the aftermath of the raid. He's sure to garner the rep of 'heartless dick' among the recruits before the day is done. It's easily a fair trade. Take away those idle moments to doubt and fear in, and replace them with a jerk they can unite over in their mutual resent.
Team building, Guy Gardner style.

It isn't until the gore on his face begins to crust and flake off that he notices his own condition. He's beat and smells like road kill. Nothing he'd want Tora to see.

Tora.
Crap.
He hasn't checked in yet. She'd understand, but then again he's not going to blow it by taking her for granted either. No making that mistake again.

A quick stop at the barracks affords him a quick shower and then he makes a trans-galactic call.

The JLA Watchtower receives the signal requesting Ice's comm. ID.

It Begins

Apr. 4th, 2009 04:17 pm
[identity profile] bewaresinestro.livejournal.com
"Sector interceptors primed!"

"Reality coloactors ready!"

"Dimensional drill operational!"

Sinestro smiles, hovering in front of his army. One thousand of the greatest potential fearmongers in the universe, all at arms and ready to wage war on their opposite number, the Guardians of the Universe. It was nearly time. "My friends! What is our ambition?!"

"Order! Order! ORDER!" The assembly of rogues, sociopaths, and murderers chanted with religious ecstasy.

"And how will we bring that perfect order?!" Sinestro demanded of his horde.

And they answered in kind. "Fear! Fear! FEAR!"

"And what is the fate of the followers of a light that would oppose us?!" 

"DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!"

"Qwardians." Sinestro spoke in a normal tone of voice, "Now is the opportune moment you were looking for."

Terrified faces nodded, and a large, yellow drill tore a hole in space and time. Outside of the gleaming bubble sat Oa, the center of the universe, citadel of law, order, and decency.

Tonight, Sinestro would see the home of those he once called master burn. "SINESTRO CORPS, ATTACK!" he called, rocketing out into the positive reality, his followers soaring out around him like a yellow rain of locusts rising from nowhere to rip the planet clean!
[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] flame-of-green.livejournal.com
It wasn't that Bea didn't enjoy shopping. She did. In fact, shopping was one of her guilty pleasures, like chocolate and Sex and the City.

On the other hand, she wanted to set herself apart, and the best way to do that was to have a design. Or, in her case, a designer.

Bea didn't know Arisia very well, but she had begun to spend time with her at mixers and the Christmas party, and they worked together for Mari.

So, here was Bea, keeping her appointment with Arisia. She was going to surprise her with a little front money, and a tall order.
[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] mari-mccabe.livejournal.com
Mari Jiwe McCabe stared up at the home of her new modeling agency – McCabe Models. It was one of many buildings on Fifth Avenue, but this one…it had something special about it. She could feel it. It’s glass and stone façade, it’s old-world glamour. The grotesques on either side of the steps that recalled foxes.

Yes. I was meant to find you.

She grinned and looked to her right to see a handsome man dressed in a tailor-made, dark grey pinstriped suit standing next to her. Roland Ramsey, Mari’s assistant. She’d met him backstage at a fashion show years ago, working with food services, and she’d immediately seen his potential. In the years since, he hadn’t come up much and Mari, liking him well enough, had called to see if he’d like a brand new job. He’d accepted the position immediately. “What do you think?”

“After having worked here for a week, setting everything up? I think we did a damn fine job.”

Mari nodded, proud. “We did. We really did.” Her eyes shone brightly, and her thousand-watt smile light up her face. “Wow. I’ve kind of dreamed of this. For awhile now. This is…so much better than hosting USA’s Next Supermodel. Or having a few subpar perfumes in my name out.”

“You know that Paige Monroe wants to be the new host, right?”

“It’s not going to happen. I’m still producer. And Giuliana St. James is the new host.”

“Oh, yes, that’ll go over well.”

Mari shrugged. “I may dislike Giuliana, but she’s the lesser evil over Paige. It was a necessary decision to make. If Paige has an issue with it, she can take it up with me. She knows that we’ve been rivals from day one.” She looks at Roland. “Come on. We should probably get some food set up. Beatriz is coming over soon, and she said she wanted to bring a friend of hers to meet me.” She smiles. “Another potential model, I believe.”

[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
Another war band, this one in New York, New York. The replicant army spreads loose throughout, as Lobo commands this rabble of part-automated maniacs. A group heads for the Empire State Building. Another goes for the Rockefeller Center.

One of the replicants, a copy of Huntress, stands on a destroyed plinth in the middle of Central Park, howling at the moon. There's no reason behind it except to cause terror. People run, and people hide, and are soon found by more and more replicants that proceed to attack and brutalise.

The honour-guard, the replicants Brainiac assigned especially to stay close to Lobo, await his command as their brethren go about tearing New York City apart.
[identity profile] jla-extras2.livejournal.com
Aboard the Legion Satellite, the Legionnaires are taking a few moments of rest and relaxation, as Brainiac Five makes a few final preparations in the communication room, along with some of his colleagues.

"We've managed to modify the dimensional portal device that Lyle and I constructed to function as a time portal - Mordru's efforts seem to have restored our home timeline. Naturally, I think we should make all possible haste to get back there, before Ultra Boy decides to go barhopping in your era."

He's conversing with a glowing green face on the display screen as he works on some of the calculations.

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