[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
The ritual to heal Amelia is progressing.

Ibn carefully monitor's their vital signs and then flinches. Something isn't right. He speaks, only with great difficulty. "I believe there may be an external contamination. Some sort of attack."
[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
It is difficult to spiritually cleanse a room where so many souls have passed through; some have suffered before passing the veil. He pours the fresh water into his silver bowl and mixes the salt until it becomes diluted and the water clears. This is not ordinary table salt. It was mined in a very sacred place in India. It will soak in the negative energies of the area.

There are two beds. Ms. Zukov is resting in her bed. The other one is for her brother.

"I have developed an elixir with the help of Ms. Strong that I believe will alleviate Ms. Zukov's condition. It will force the two of you into an accelerated cycle of healing. This elixir shall create a mental bridge between the two of you. As you are siblings and have similar bio-rhythmus, you will help moderate each other. You will adapt to each other’s energies. This will allow Ms. Zukov to tune her energies into less self destructive cycles, but it will for a short time cause added stress to Mr. Zukov. However, I believe you will quickly even each other out.”

Ibn pauses for a moment, checking vitals. “There is a possibility that this bridge will cause a sharing of memories or dreams. It is merely a side-effect and should cause no danger unless the two of you fight it. Are there any questions?”
[identity profile] sand-hawkins.livejournal.com
...to be with the one you love."   So the lyric goes.

Doesn't hurt if it's Christmas Eve either.

Last year, Jerry Lee's closed its doors on Christmas Eve at around 2 PM...there wasn't much of a dinner crowd normally.

This year, they're open for a private party.  Both rooms. full band, full kitchen service, including soda jerk.  Only thing closed are the bars.   Guests want to tie one on, they can do it after they leave - no sense making Chimp and Corrine feel uncomfortable.

This was a time to celebrate.  The entire D'aubigne family's been brought to justice. Travis is safe and healing.  Everyone's back in the same dimension and timespace for the first time in months.

And Sand was bound and determined to celebrate it.  With his extended family and friends.

Civvies preferred, although if people felt they needed to or had to be in costume, keep it low key - Sand told the establishment that a couple of metas were in his circle of friends.  The owner had this odd smirk about him when he said that, but he didn't press.

He was the first person there, going over the menu and the music selection.  The 40's swing was as good as ever - the 50's room, by request, had a killer rock/blues band that also did some 60's. 

Now all he needed were some guests...
[identity profile] green-shield.livejournal.com
Corrine's back. Corrine is back and being Corrine and while Tara is very supportive of superhero weirdness screwing with relationships - after over two years of perfect memory it still makes no damn sense. Someone should be ecstatic! someone should be crying with happiness, dropping to their knees and thanking God that life goes on in this business and life is often GOOD. And wonderful and...

...and she can't sleep. Oh, she doesn't need much. About 4-6 hours a week generates all the chemicals she needs. But at best it's been 2 here and 2 there. You'd think with a Green Lantern space jockey boyfriend ex, she'd be used to waking up with ice cold sheets. she keeps looking for Christie, but she's a rotten detective to be completely honest. She cooked until the Outsider's headquarters smelled like an Italian restaurant in New York. Now with her still fractured arm cooking is more difficult. She can't distract herself with archery either. Much of the chemistry work takes two hands as well.

Soo she sits in the TV room at the base, watching some PBS thing with old blues singers from the '50's and '60's strutting their stuff for public funds at this ungodly hour. Unsurprisingly, a band she's been avoiding comes on. Worse, they're really, really good.

When you complain - and criticize
I feel I'm nothing, in your eyes
It makes me feel - like giving up ...

Oh, oh no!
Don't bring me down,

no no no no

Oh babe! Oh no,
Don't bring me down...

"Where's the damn remote?" she mumbles to herself.
[identity profile] anotherknight.livejournal.com
The network at his disposal is custom built and state of the art. There are only perhaps two others like it in existence, one of which is closely allied. Using the exterior cameras available on the Watchtower, he examines though a vid link real time footage of China's new space station. Its relative proximity puts it within striking distance of the JLA's headquarters. A fact that does not please him.

Ibn is due to arrive within the hour. The time is passed in observation.
[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
His arm hurts, but feels a bit better after having been set in a cast.

His cell phone hasn't stopped ringing. The lawyers are well trained and amply excited to earn their pay. Well, I suspect the quiet is about to end now.

He ponders his future...
[identity profile] amelia-z.livejournal.com
(Continuation from here)

Amelia feels like she's seen too much. Her brain is full and brimming, actually working clearly for the first time in months. The visions bring some clarity, though it's fleeting. So the witch was right. I need to keep braat away from the blondes.

Babies. Amelia shudders. Ew.

Her attitude towards the spherical visitor has been, up until now, rather hostile. Even if she's a little insulted, she's intrigued. She won't disturb the object anymore, not even trying to get a better 'look' at it. Hands on knees, Amelia sinks down to the floor, cross-legged in front of the object. Being logical? This could be a trap, or a weapon. Maybe the entire purpose is to confuse her; not that it's an accomplishment at this point in time. Finding out if it's specifically magical would be risky in her state.

It isn't doing anything again. She hefts a fist under her chin, propping her elbow on a knee. She'll wait. Eventually it'll do something or go away, right? It can't just spin there, forever--
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
Guantánamo is the easternmost province of Cuba. Its capital is also called Guantánamo. Other towns include Baracoa. The province surrounds the important U.S. Navy base at Guantánamo Bay.

Since the 1970's, the base was used to house Cuban and Haitan refugees. Since 2002, it's been the primary detention camp used on the War on Terror, and a lightning rod for controversy.

Lightning prepares to strike as 7 people...and one chimp...prepare to reach ground.
[identity profile] sand-hawkins.livejournal.com
It's been about 15 minutes since Magique (now calling herself Slither or somesort) was on international television, telling the world that Kobra had taken over Cuba.)

Ten minutes of watching the news later, Sand had told the troops to suit up and be in the main hall within ten minutes. 

EVERYONE.  Including the guests.

As he waits for their arrival, he receives a transmission from Oracle. 

And frowns.
[identity profile] sand-hawkins.livejournal.com
...the waiting is the hardest part.

A million thoughts are going through Sand's mind.  Are they OK?  Is SHE OK?  Will they find her?

He checks his watch.  Yep, they've been gone 10 seconds.

"Anyone know any good parlor games?  I don't think everyone here's into Civ4."

Catching Up

Sep. 8th, 2007 10:46 am
[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
“Mr. Fawkes, I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Ibn al-Xu’ffasc nodded at the doorman. His name was Charlie. While he was certainly no Alfred, he did his job well and didn’t ask a lot of questions. “My trip was cut short. How’s the wife?”

“Fine. Fine. She’s been worried that you aren’t eating enough. You should come to dinner. Her sister’s in town and they loved those U2 concert tickets.”

Ibn kept himself from smiling. “Charlie, I told you that I’m not quite ready to date. Not that your sister-in-law isn’t quite attractive. . .”

“Ah don’t worry about it, Mr. Fawkes. The Missus just thinks you look like some celeb from the tabloids that’s supposed to be missing.”

Ibn raised an eyebrow. “I trust that you have clarified the matter.”

“Yes, sir, boss. I know which side of the bread is buttered. And thanks for getting Trudy into that school.”

“An education is very important.” Ibn pauses for a moment. “Have the detectives reported back to you?”

Charlie frowns. “They haven’t found her. Even with the hundred large reward.”

“Up it to five hundred thousand.”

“That’s not going to help, Boss. They just can’t find her.”

“Try anyway. And Charlie, we’re going to have large packages delivered. Things are likely going to get very lively around her.”

“Time to earn the pay then.”

Ibn flips open his cell phone and dials a number. He had been hoping he could wait for this.

The voice on the other side is gruff. “Password?”

“Alea iacta est.”* Ibn flips the phone shut. “Charlie, I have a lot of work to do.”

* Alea iacta est means the die is cast. It was said by Caesar when he was crossing the Rubicon.
[identity profile] onthecase.livejournal.com
So this Ibn fellow is really arousing the Chimp's curiosity. And when the chimp gets curious, he gets investigative.

And they don't call him Detective Chimp for nothing.

Time to make a few phone calls. Yes, he'll need to talk to Ibn himself eventually... but for the moment, he'd rather go into that conversation armed with a few more facts.

Apparently, according to Sue, Batman knows a lot more about him than it might appear.

And then there's his close ties to Bono.

And lastly, there are two possible ex-girlfriends. Wonder Woman, and Nightstar.

According to his files, Wonder Woman's off-planet, which takes her off the list.

That leaves Batman, Nightstar, and Bono to call.

Picking one at random, he begins to dial.
[identity profile] amelia-z.livejournal.com
Past the various check-in points, past the social room, at the edge of the ward surrounded by rooms that stand empty of inhabitance, there's a room in the back where a blue light falls into the hallway. At this end of the ward, the goings-on of the rest of the floor are barely even audible.

The other patients didn't want to be near her.

They said they were only putting Amelia back here for a "short time", while they "considered their options". She's perfectly okay with this, and knows it's more like waiting until they get their heads out of their asses. The idiots somehow didn't understand the words 'mystical ailment'.

It was funny, for a time, though, to cough close to the other patients. Maybe get a little blood on their sleeve with a nosebleed. 'Get right down in the crevices of people's nerves and just... unlatch.'

Yeah. So that's what she felt like today.

At least she's got some semblance of her own room. It's less embarrassing when she forgets, like the book sitting open on her lap. But something's happened. Braat is coming... with a guest.
[identity profile] lexcorp-media.livejournal.com
" ... and we're getting some incoming news on that shooting we mentioned earlier; more details from our reporter in the field. Karen, are you out there?"
The camera view splits in two, revealing a short blonde. A short distance behind her, a small local coffee shop near the von Gruenwald Tower is cordoned off with police tape, along with part of the street.

"Yes, John, I'm right here in the aftermath of what was a peaceful afternoon for many office workers on their lunch break until that peace was shattered by what seems on its face to be a Mob-related shooting. Just hours ago, police say, Helena Bertinelli, famed in the Gotham underworld as a Mafia princess who broke the back of the Mob late last year, was sitting here with rumored recent beau Jason Todd when a sniper fired three times at him, killing him in front of dozens of witnesses ... "

A blurry shot of Helena Bertinelli, an EMS blanket around her shoulders and blood smeared like some kind of warpaint on her face, takes the place of the reporter for a moment.

"The police are treating this as a professional hit, possibly in retaliation for her actions last year. Jason Todd, adopted son of billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne, was pronounced dead at the scene. Mr. Wayne himself has been unavailable for comment, though a spokesperson for the family urged the media to please respect their privacy during this difficult time -- "
[identity profile] caleb-z.livejournal.com
Caleb already moved all the tables to the side of the room, and slowly poured the powder into a circle. Then comes the other type of powder, tracing a line from the center to the outside. All of it common, simple ingredients of what is, emotional investment aside, a common, simple spell.

Well, all common but the key ingredient, yet to be placed in the center of the circle. That key ingredient is sitting on the table, slowly being unwrapped.

When he’s done, Caleb holds up the blade, and just contemplates it. Contemplates what he’s about to do. Who he’s going to call. And though he hopes for success, he fears it at the same time. One doesn’t forget the feel of their own melting, bubbling skin. One doesn’t forget that putrid smell.

“Seek and ye shall find,” he mutters as he places the sword in the center of the circle.
[identity profile] green-shield.livejournal.com
She had no clue where she was when she beamed over to what turned out to be Fire the Wonder Skank's house. She can't believe that was her on any of that. What does she care if Travis wanted down Fire's pants that badly? Oh right...because she still wants him, still cares about him, and is pretty sure Fire just wants him for quickies. In the middle of hating his guts, she wonders if Fire knows he can't sleep without the radio on. She finds herself wanting Fire to remember to do that for him because Tara wants him to be able to sleep and relax when he gets a few seconds. Stupid. She's never been stupid. It's a failing and the reason she's likely not doing something like dragging Travis out of there and trying to...do something.

All her life, it was the next challenge. The next grade. The next assignment. The next piece of paper to get. For the last two years it's been crisis after crisis. Right now? There is no plan, paper, or crisis she can work on other than how to get back to Florida - and for what? She could call base, but at the moment she's way too embarrassed.

She'd taken a couple of random buses on complete auto pilot. The end of the line? Central Park in New York. She sits on a bench watching a guy get mugged by pigeons.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
Children are not often seen in the Watchtower, and seldom in the sick bay. But in times of crisis, what is usual and customary is pushed aside. The stentorous breathing of the sick children is punctuated by the soft bleeps of the monitoring equipment.
[identity profile] oracle-watching.livejournal.com
There are times when Oracle can permit herself the luxury of surfing as her whimsy takes her, following this data stream and that topic drift. There are times when she dips her virtual toes briefly in the sea of information, easily plucking out what she needs and relaying it to those with a need to know.

There are times when she goes through the global nets the way a shark goes through chum, or the way Batgirl used to swing through the streets of Gotham "in the heat," a cop saying which has nothing to do with the weather.
[identity profile] ibn-al-xuff.livejournal.com
It is time to leave the manor.

He has enjoyed staying here, but after his experiences, he needs chance to breathe and reflect. Ibn packs a single bag. Over the last few weeks, he has pondered much of what his father and grandfather has said to him. It is difficult for him to make choices when he has never lived in the world.

He packs the communicator his father left him and then writes a note. He leaves the note where he is certain that his father will find it.

Read more... )

He walks down the steps of the manor and opens the cab door. He takes a final look around and then enters. "Downtown Gotham, please."


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