[identity profile] krypton-or-bust.livejournal.com
It's a sunny day on the Bay and Titans's tower gleams in the light as it watches over the city across the water.
Resembling Frank Loyd Wright's 'Falling Water' masterpiece, the Tower is also a state of the art fortress of technology and a fortified bulwark against those who would seek to contest it's protective vigil.

But that's not really on anyone's mind right now.

Inside, the Titans have assembled, not in response to a dire emergency or immanent threat, but for Pizza!

Superhoy's not the tech head of the team, but he makes for a fun tour guide. Leading their new guest through the many levels of the building (above and bellow ground), he provides an entertaining (if not the most technically accurate) stream of commentary on each of the rooms.

"So yeah, we had to spend a week getting the stains off the walls. I mean I'm glad Raven blew him up, but trying to pick bits of Chemo out of the carpet sucks."

He looks over to Scarab and cocks his head.
"Am I rambling?"

Walking into the main lounge, they are met with an impressive display of Pizza excellence. Bart knows his 'zza.
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_bird_of_flame_/
Flamebird sits at the table, waiting for everyone else to show up. Drumming her fingers on the top of the table, she's not entirely sure why /she's/ at this meeting. Sure, she helps when Vic is caught up in one of this projects and makes sure that things are running smoothly when he's away. And she does monitor duty on the West Coast and the East Coast as needed but she's not a leader or anything.

It isn't like she's going to be giving either of these teams orders in the field any time soon, or possibly ever as far as she's concerned.

Still, she's here because while she reminded Vic, she's not entirely certain how deep into what he's doing Vic is right now and someone needs to show up.
[identity profile] krypton-or-bust.livejournal.com
They saved the day. They won!
Batman was going to be Debbie Downer about it, but as far as Conner was concerned, they pimp slapped freaking DARKSEID out of Gotham. THAT was a cause to celebrate.

A quick tour of Gotham's skies confirms Robin's search grid and he comes back to Gotham Square where most of the cape and cowl crew had collected. A swoop and an indulgent loop-the-loop and he lands near Scarab.

"Hey bro! Those were some badass moves back there!"
[identity profile] jla-apokolips.livejournal.com
Darkseid is bored. Watching Desaad's systematic torture of hundred of Gothamites can only remain interesting for a while. He's just waiting for his power to reach its zenith through Blackfire and then...

Darkseid finds himself looking at his hands, as if expecting to see something flowing out of them. "Something is wrong." He glares at Desaad. "Toad. You are in communication with the Deacon. Have him report."
[identity profile] give-me-an-amen.livejournal.com
Deacon Joseph Blackfire has lived for far more years than any man should live. He was born centuries ago to a Hotethk Native American tribe under a blood red moon. It was seen as a sign that he would amount to become a leader of men. Blackfire became that leader time and time again, always gaining control, always to eventually lose it. Each time he lost the power, it was to the fabled King of Beasts. One century it was the man known as Walks-With-Mountain Lions. Another it was a great American hunter known as Hugo Wayne. In the 20th Century it was a vigilante known as the Batman.

Blackfire was determined to change things for the 21st Century. No longer would the power be stolen from him. Blackfire was resurrected in the 21st Century by technologies foul and unusual, futuristic yet also ancient. Devices unknown to him, buried deep beneath Gotham, worked on his body and on his soul and brought him back more powerful than before. He sought out the creator of these wonders and found the terrible Darkseid. Somehow he persuaded the god of Apokolips that his skills of manipulation and persuasion were better than Glorious Godfrey's, and that with Blackfire in his power, Darkseid could finally launch a successful invasion of Earth.

The ancient gate beneath Gotham was activated by the belief in Darkseid and in anti-life, channelled through Blackfire's soured soul. Darkseid stepped through the gate, not knowing that Blackfire was not only channelling this belief, but taking it for himself. At least half of the justifiers in Gotham are as fanatical about Blackfire as they are about Darkseid.

Blackfire stands, arms apart and legs astride the entrance to the gate. He looks like Da Vinci's diagram of a man, except his skin is charred, the Apokoliptian power coursing through his veins. He forces a smile on his face as the blue lightning runs through his body, and he finally steps free. "I am become a god, and even Darkseid will kneel before me."

The gate hums and shuts down like an old computer. The way back to Apokolips is closed.

The chant of anti-life on the surface, not that far above Blackfire's head, permeates the air. The heroes and villains around the circumference of anti-life only have one chance to disable both Blackfire and Darkseid, and that's to strike now, before the Deacon can use his new godlike ability.
[identity profile] deathstroket800.livejournal.com
Deathstroke jumps out of the alleyway, toting his AA-12. With two short bursts he drops two of the Justifiers, and a third rushes at him. He throws a hook, which Deathstroke dodges, nimbly leapin over the head of the Justifier, grabbing the brainwashed person in a headlock. The Justifier struggles, nearly breaking out of Slade's grip before he manages to plunge a blade into the Justifiers throat. He spins the dead man around using him as a meatshield as he draws his pistol. The armored cadaver takes two plasma bursts, and Deathstroke rings off a shot from his pistol, hitting a justifier in the helmet of his visor.

As he continued to fight, another squad of justifiers emerged, with two very dangeous people. He recognized one from their fights with the heroes. The bestial Kalibak, Darkseid's son and a very dangerous fighter. Superman can smack him around, but he's still pretty damn strong. The other one is a girl, blonde, drop-dead gorgeous. Probably one of the female furies. "Shit."
[identity profile] 10xspeedoflight.livejournal.com
There's a glowing blur of red and yellow light shooting through Bludhaven. It's not as familiar a sight there as it is in somewhere like Central or Keystone City, but most people know who it is that leaves an intangible yet thick trail of those colours along roads and sidewalks, across lakes and through parks. The Flash builds up speed as he tears towards the Gotham River, and then runs straight across the surface of the water, arriving at Gotham Docks a split second after he started running.

Barry looks behind him, and within a microt his grandson is with him. He holds a finder to his lips as soon as Bart appears, as there are voices in the docks of Gotham. The voices are chanting. For once, Barry creeps slowly as he makes his way towards the source of the chanting. A warehouse. There are no windows, as is befitting of most warehouses, so he slides one of the doors open a fraction to look inside.

Dock workers, sailors, men and women from around the area all lay flat on the ground, on their stomachs with their heads raised. Their bodies all point in the same direction, and they all strain to look up at the effigy of Darkseid that sits on top of a standard packing crate. There doesn't appear to be a master of ceremonies, so there's no point interfering with the mindless cultists. Not given the possibility that one of them may raise an alarm. Barry silently closes the door again, and turns to Bart.

"Probably about a hundred people in there, all chanting that they'd die for Darkseid. As far as damage assessments go, I wouldn't call this a good start. At least they're not hurting anyone though." Barry sighs, and wonders where they should head next. "I wonder what the other scouts have found."
[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] krypton-or-bust.livejournal.com
"Ummm a Deep Dish slice..wait two slices, yeah two and a large Soder cola. Thanks!"

Kon eagerly receives the plate of Pizza and fills up his paper cup at the soda fountain. Careful to avoid spilling his precious cargo, he makes it back to the table at the window looking out onto Telegraph street. Blondie's Pizza is a well know favorite of the area, so it's always doing brisk business. Fortunately it's not packed right now.

Nudging his backpack further under the table with a foot Kon settles down ready to devour lunch. Homework can happen later.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
At the corner of Hollywood and Vine, the ground begins to tremble on an early summer evening - the hardy native Californians ignore the tremor at first, accustomed to such things living this close to the San Andreas fault. The hissing gasses and wave of heat might be ignored as well - after all, this is where movies are made - but the follow-up is all too real.

Demons begin to pour forth from the fissure that quickly forms - their twisted, red-black bodies bending unnaturally as their charred wings expand, feeling the freedom of the air for the first time in age untold.

Hell on Earth begins here.
[identity profile] keystonesfinest.livejournal.com
 Dr. Alchemy sits atop the Gothic Revival Tribune Tower in Chicago, legs dangling over the edge of the tall ledge he's perched on, the Philosopher's Stone in one hand, and a smaller book than usual in the other. He's having to use a metal clip to keep the pages open where he wants them, given the high winds this far up, so he's less than happy. Any damage to a book puts Alchemy in a bad mood.

He reads from his book; Atlas Shrugged. "Run for your life from any man who tells you that money is evil. That sentence is the leper’s bell of an approaching looter. So long as men live together on earth and need means to deal with one another–their only substitute, if they abandon money, is the muzzle of a gun. What an interesting philosophy…" Alchemy doesn't even look up as he activates the philosopher's stone, and the walls of the Chicago Mutual Bank turn into oxygen, exposing the vaults to the public.

"When you have made evil the means of survival, do not expect men to remain good. Do not expect them to stay moral and lose their lives for the purpose of becoming the fodder of the immoral. Do not expect them to produce, when production is punished and looting rewarded. Do not ask, ‘Who is destroying the world? You are."  He sniffs. "I merely change the world. I destroy nothing. This Rand woman has some gaps in her knowledge." Again without looking, he clutches the stone and the roads beneath him begin to change into mercury.


Meanwhile, other villains, rogues and criminals run rampant throughout Chicago, all intent on causing the largest distraction possible for the Justice League.
[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com

"Hey, there have been some strange deaths at this local high school!"

"We should investigate gang!"

"Golly, could the school psychiatrist be doing something to the kids?"

"Oh no, Raven doesn't know that the school shrink is Spellbinder! And she's at a therapy session!"


"Excuse me!" Beast Boy shouts, hopping over a shocked student, flipping between a kangaroo, a cheetah, and his human form to blur through the school as fast as he can. He slams against the school psychologist's office door, goes, "OW! Ooooowwwwwwww." Beast Boy hisses, rubbing his shoulder and wincing. "Stupid fancy new doors."

Beast Boy tugs on the handle a little, pushes, and finally realizes its one of those doors you pull. One opening later, he bursts in on the sinister session! "Hold it right there!" Beast Boy exclaims, pointing a finger at, well, whoever's right in front of him. This is about when Garfield notices a familiar red glow. "Oh. Huh." Beast Boy pales a little, "...tthhiiisss isn't gonna end well..."
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_bird_of_flame_/
Bette Kane has never been one to attach a lot of sentiment to the holiday season. While she likes presents and likes friends an family, she's had a lot of the first and not so much of the later until the past few years. Ever since she's become a Titan, this sort of stuff has started to mean more.

And this year, specifically, she's trying to shake herself out of a funk. Ever since the end of the whole situation with Jesse and Wally, she's been mopey, beyond mopey. That just is not going to stand - or at least she's going to do her best to get rid of that little black rain cloud that's settled over her head.

At the Titans West tower, there is a trail of gingerbread cookies leading to the teleporter. One of them is standing over the controls, watching them. No one needs to change them at all, they just need to get on the platform and follow the trails of the gingerbread to...

..... the Titans East base.

Someone's been busy with the decorating and the cooking and... well... the catering but she did cook some. A little bit.

This is the party. Presents can't be too far behind.


Nov. 27th, 2009 04:48 pm
[identity profile] man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com
Luthor's hands dance rapidly over one of the keyboards, his eyes darting back and forth to scan figures as they arrive.

"and...and....here, and...that's IT! I've found it! The genetic sequencing is almost flawless! A perfect match!" His bloodshot gaze turns to the Phantom Stranger. "And you're going to bring her through, ghost. I told you...I'd find a way, and through you...this is done. Now bring her in..."

Lex slams his fist upon a button, beginning a energy whirlwind outside of his base. The molecules remaining from the universal blast earlier begin to swirl and slowly draw towards it.

"With you as a siphon, and my research, I've done it. All this time, all this effort...I've beaten it. I AM the balance between death...and life." A quick wipe of the face, and a sleep-deprived shudder pause him for a moment, before he continues.

"All stations...prepare for retrieval. Contact is made, and siphoning begins immediately."
[identity profile] man-of-stee-ll.livejournal.com
"All units on the ready. Hold your positioning until further notice. And to all of you, I send my deepest appreciations. We're doing work of the Gods now, and as I promised before, you'll be legendary..."

Luthor sends his communique through Calculator, and relays through his three location captains. With that, he's back to his windows, and watching the remnants of the blown universe filter through. Soon, it will be enough.
[identity profile] xspeedyx2.livejournal.com
There's the thwack of arrows that can be heard outside of Titans Tower, as Speedy hits another bullseye on the target.

Mia loves her early-morning practice sessions almost as much as she loves coming to the Tower on the weekends. No one's up before noon at best on Sundays, so she can enjoy the peace and quiet as she strikes the target again and again.

Pulling down her hood, Mia pauses, taking in the sight of the bay around her.

And then she notices it. A very familiar figure walking up towards the Tower.

Mia blinks, rubbing her eyes, wondering if the sun's playing tricks on her. As the figure gets closer though, Mia's face breaks into a wide grin. Dropping her bow, she sprints towards the figure, screaming at the top of her lungs before wrapping her arms around her best friend in a bear hug.

[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com
"Why don't you tell me about your day, Simone? See what we can find...between the lines."

The little green chihuahua skirted across the otherwise immaculate tile floors of St. Perez's Preparatory School. Garcia bobbed and weaved, avoiding the heavy, stylized shoes of the young people who thought they were the upper crust of society. Really, they were more like the weird, floury part that doesn't get cooked properly, but no one was going to tell them that out loud, especially not a little dog who could get his head crushed open by a pair of cleats. Being a pet in a school that technically didn't allow pets was something of a balancing act anyway, and at least Garcia wasn't as obvious about it as Hernando the pot bellied pig, that ham.

"Well, Doctor, I, um, came to school pretty normally. I tried my best to pay attention in my morning classes, but..."

"...but you've been having your problems again?"

Garcia ignored the cry of alarm as he ran out from underneath the janitor's legs, twisting to the side just in time to avoid being crushed by a deadly basketball. Ignoring the churlish laughs of the jock crowd(girls could be so cruel!), Garcia ran for the bleachers, crawling under the main wooden bench and licking his teeth as though wishing his little doggie lungs could call out 'Wolverines!' or some similar rallying cry. Instead, he carefully made his way forward, knowing that salvation was within his grasp...!

"...I know it's a waste of my parents's money, Doctor, and I know it's wrong, I mean...look! I've even tried holding needles in my hands, s-so the pain'll wake me up..."

"Shh. Shh. This isn't a place for shame, Simone. It's alright. I know you feel sorry. But you're still making the mistake of relying on yourself. I can't help you...if you don't let me help you."


"...tell me, Simone, do you want to waste more of your parents hard earned money? Do you think a confused girl who cuts herself to stay awake can handle that kind of information? Do you need that kind of responsibility?"

Keeping his eyes on the prize, so to speak, Garcia put on an expression of great, grim concentration. There! He shot out of the bleachers like lightning, throwing skirts in the air and causing cries of, 'Ohmigawd!' and 'That little rat-dog!' and 'Ooh, that's a nice breeze...' as he plowed through the cheerleaders, making his way around to the other end of the gymnasium. Finally coming upon a heavy pair of socks that looked, he had to admit, adorable on the normally ultra-dignified young woman with her nose in a book, he lightly batted her ankle and gave a rakish grin that looked entirely inappropriate on a dog.

"...no, Doctor Moffit. I need...I need, you...please...please take the numbers, take the cards...!"

"...well, alright. But to be there for you, Simone..."

"...you need to be there for everyone else. I promise. I'll get the other girls on the team to come to one of your one on one sessions. I swear! Please!"

"I'm sure they'll thank you, in the end." Faye Moffit adjusted her glasses, smiling as she drank in the power she had over this spellbound mind. "Trust me..."
[identity profile] bewaresinestro.livejournal.com
Why could Sinestro master the elemental force of fear? Compared to the true horrors of the fifty two layered universes, what exactly is frightening about a pink fascist in yellow tights?

It came all at once, a horrible static burst cutting through Earth's delicate web of satellite powered communications. "People of Earth." A flicker of light and energy, as the sneering, mustached face comes into view. "This is...Sinestro, leader and founder of the Sinestro Corps. For too long, Earth has suffered under the yoke of nationalism. It is clear to me that for all of their virtues, the human race is simply incapable of governing itself in a reasonable, orderly fashion. We have come to help you. We have come because, when given the chance to help yourselves, you jockeyed for position and struggled for dominance instead of acknowledging the need to unify. We have come to save the world. The planet Earth, a source of great fear for the civilized universe, has been annexed as a protectorate of the Sinestro Corps. Do not resist, and the transition shall be accomplished with minimal strife."

In the skies, the first, best line of defense against alien invasion has failed. The Watchtower was somehow fooled into believing that the rush of negative energy was the dimensional equivalent of a sunspot. Amon Sur, Parallax, leads the space contingent of this army of psychotics, shimmering beams of the yellow spectrum of light making themselves known as the Sinestro Corps secures the fortress-space station.

"The only colony on the Earth that has declared open alliance to the Green Lantern Corps is the settlement of Coast City. Even here, Sinestro shows his limitless mercy. People of Coast City, you have one hour. Then, I shall descend upon the home of my great enemy, and I shall leave nothing standing. Leave. Quickly. The remainder of the United States of America shall be secured by Sinestro Corps agents within that hour timeframe."

Eyes glowing the harsh yellow-red of a bleeding sun, Mongol leads his war party tasked with seizing America's heartland into a sweeping formation around what is arguably the soul of the United States; Mount Rushmore. Mongol grins, envisioning his twisted visage carved over the great leaders of this rebellious nation.

"Terms of surrender for the rest of the world shall be broadcasted from the United Nations building. I do not expect the proud human race to accept their fate until they are taught how to fear. Their weaponer-guardian will be tasked with spreading the fear that must be established to bring order to this wounded, rabid world. Rejoice, earthlings. You are delivered."

Enkafos's eyes open, his three hundred and sixty fifth awakening since the end of his natural life. The mummified agent of Sinestro stands in the middle of the UN Plaza, and silently basks in the greatest city on the planet's terror, its anticipation. "Prepare." He orders his subordinates. "The throne must be ready to accept antimatter within the quarter hour."

The frightening thing about Sinestro, you see, is when this almost foolish figure talks about bringing order to the galaxy, living nightmares listen. They cheer. They unite. They work together. Sinestro can take a disorganized band of egomaniacs and psychotics and bring them together as firmly as any crack unit of soldiers. His eyes gleam with the cancerous yellow of a dieing star as he hovers over Coast City, his ring helping him keep track of the work of those that bare his name below. And Sinestro couldn't keep the smile off of his face.
[identity profile] aflyinggrayson.livejournal.com
Although it's tempting.

Nightwing has the Justice League teleport him from Bludhaven to Titans Tower, because he likes abusing his power with the JLA like that, and after his stomach stops its post-port loop-de-loops, he heads to the kitchen to drop off his gift and get himself a soda.

His gift? Four dozen Philly cheesesteaks, neatly wrapped and bundled in a box. He figures Bart alone will eat half.
[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com
Somehow, the club just isn't as fun when one of your friends is flying there under eerie posthypnotic suggestion.

God, Gar, you're such a fuck up, he thinks to himself, looking down at his boots for a moment. There's a quick, fleshy sound, and a green mouse weaves between the stomping boots and snapping heels of the dancing wasted youth. Thump thump thump thump thump...verminous ears pick up a change in the beat that human ears would not, as Beast Boy scratches against one of the back walls of the fun house like building, pressing his claw to the mouse-size Titan transmitter to let his teammates know that he's found where the drop off point for whoever's making money off of these unwilling criminals is...


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