[identity profile] tim-drake-robin.livejournal.com
Six hours of sleep. Not bad. He had a late night, so it's nearly dawn now.
Shortly after waking, Tim is in the pool doing laps. It's a short workout and soon he's showered and finishing a breakfast of egg whites and steamed vegetables in solitude. He pops multivitamins with his water on the way out the door, slipping out of the manor like a ghost.

Pushing his motorcycle down the driveway, he coasts on the machine until he's a distance from the manor before starting the engine.

Off to Shiva's...
[identity profile] tim-drake-robin.livejournal.com
Tim's been very busy catching up on responsibilities and duties. He needed to make sure his affairs were handled before he took this next step. It is not an implication of diminished importance that has waited this long to attend to this matter, rather it is an indication that he very well understands it's gravity and wished to be certain that there would be no loose ends to distract him.

This required his complete focus.

Dressed in his civilian clothes, the hood of his Gotham High sweater up to deflect the rain, he walks into Richard Dragon's Dojo.
[identity profile] shiva-wusan.livejournal.com
Shiva looks down from a rooftop, eyes narrowed. She can see the post-battle efforts as the go on. Her eyes track Robin's efforts more often than the others. Her arms are crossed and she is injured, should be off of her feet right now. She's never been one for rest, even when wounded.

Taking in a breath, she does her best to relax her body posture, to make it so she doesn't radiate tension and thoughtfullness to those who can read her. She knows Dragon cannot be far away from here, mildly surprised he his not here now.
[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.

On the Move

Nov. 5th, 2010 02:20 pm
[identity profile] tim-drake-robin.livejournal.com
The key to guerrilla warfare was mobility, a small unit size, tactical target selection and of course intelligence.

Mobility they had easily. Most of the team moved like wraiths in the darkened city and one could fly. Their small numbers made it easy to slip past eyes unseen and the notice of non-organic surveillance. The array of tactical backgrounds (given that half of them were trained assassins) in the unit offered considerable wisdom in selecting the right targets. Superboy's enhanced senses and aerial recon provided information that further informed their tactics.

The point was to weaken the enemy's strength, not engage in head on conflicts with superior forces. This point in particular was the issue at had at the moment.

"Ok Dessad is out as a target" Robin concludes after hearing Kon's intel.
[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] uncommon-sensei.livejournal.com
The trek out of hell takes longer than one might expect. All those twists and turns, and the natives aren't exactly reliable for directions. Shiva, Dragon, and Tim Drake have hauled themselves out of the infernal realms, though, with no further interference from Neron. Then back through Gotham Below - finally emerging from a dark alleyway in the East End.

Dragon steps out towards the street, shielding his eyes from the strange reddish cast to the evening sky.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have taken that left turn at Purgatory?"

Seems a fresh kind of hell has come to Gotham in their absence.
[identity profile] jla-villains.livejournal.com
"Mmmwahahahahaaa!!" Neron doesn't mind the occasional maniacal cackle. Especially when he has the soul of a certain Earth-based superhero dancing to his tune. He watches the torture of Drake as he rests his chin on his hands, his elbows leaning into the arms of the throne of skulls on which he currently sits.

"Dance for me, boy. Dance! Hahahaa!" Neron raises his head, snaps a finger, and Tim Drake jerks with spasmodic motion, as if his mind were locked somewhere far away. It had taken some time, but the demon had eventually been able to break down the willpower of the boy wonder until left in front of him was just a husk. Still, there's life in there somewhere. Drake always resists, to some small extent, and with that fire comes pleasure for Neron.

Neron squints into the gloom surrounding this impossibly-sized chamber. Footsteps. Not Croup and Vandemar.. They make no sound when they travel. This would mean that the intruders have passed his guardians. "Hm. Stop." Drake collapses to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut. "Illumination." The room brightens to reveal the passage that Shiva and Dragon are striding down.

"Ah, I see my guests have arrived. Going to barter for the boy, are we? Or would you prefer to fight with me for him? I don't rate your chances."
[identity profile] jla-villains.livejournal.com
Everything is proceeding apace.

The introduction of rogue players like Constantine and Dragon are no mere incidents, but all part of the plan weaved by the demonic mastermind who cuuently holds Tim Drake's soul in thrall. And as Lady Shiva, Richard Dragon, and Cassandra Cain pursue his agents from the Old Firm into the dark heart that pulses beneath Gotham, Neron watches from the eyes of his underlings.

The darkest places in the world can cast a shadow so dense it becomes a place unto itself. London, home to the Old Firm, is one such place. Thanks to a recent incident involving that idiotic Papa Midnite, London Below is now common knowledge to the mystical community. But even experienced mystics such as John Constantine do not know that London is hardly the only city that bears a dark counterpart. And as there is a London Below, so too does Gotham City have its Gotham Below.

Only the insane and the souls beyond redemption even catch a glimpse of Gotham Below normally. Populated by the haunting nightmares and twisted dreams of Gotham's festering underbelly, Gotham Below is exponentially more dangerous than its sister in London. Once the heroes have crossed the door, it will close... and only at Neron's word will it open again.

The archfiend pauses to look up at Tim Drake, suspended from a demonic altar. The boy was never Neron's main goal, of course. He is only bait, the lure that will pull in the true targets of Neron's desire.

Either Croup and Vandemar like drag them here battered and broken, or they will somehow overcome the Old Firm and find him. Either outcome suits Neron just fine.

Slouching deeper into his obsidian throne, Neron smiles a sanguine smile.
[identity profile] shiva-wusan.livejournal.com
It has been some time since she's been here, even to stop in. Things were going well enough that she had felt comfortable staying. That's part of why it was time for her to leave, travel for some time. There are things that, from time to time, require her attention, though not many.

In the darkness of the pre-dawn morning, Lady Shiva is sitting in the middle of the dojo meditating. She isn't here to check up on Dragon, nor is she here to check up on her daughter's progress. At least that is what she'll tell anyone who would dare to ask. Those who know her, know better than to ask and they know the answer she wouldn't give.

Gotham is never a place to find peace, which suits her well as she is not a creature of peace. It is a place where she can find her center, the place just before action.
[identity profile] bana-grace.livejournal.com
Someone's got that tune playing on the jukebox.

How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat.
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

Grace doesn't care one way or the other, and just keeps serving up the drinks.
[identity profile] shiva-wusan.livejournal.com
Another rooftop, another night. Once again, Lady Shvia is looking for Robin, knowing where it is more likelt she will find him. Too much more of this and it seems likely someone might accuse her of stalking him.

Though she would consider it something much more like keeping tabs on him to help protect his best interests. Or something like that.

This time she's brought a guest with her, which makes this unusual, even for Shiva.

If she needs to wait here all night, she seems entirely comfortable doing it.
[identity profile] mucous-magus.livejournal.com
He emerges from the Gotham train tunnels, bruised and bloody, but at least he's alone. He's not sure why. That spell might have helped, sure, but if those two want him they'll be after him.

So he's not the target. Good to know.

He should find Selina, warn her. Or maybe he should get to Zee, talk to her. Divine if Selina is the target or not. Find out who is. Do something.

All he really wants to do is find somewhere to collapse and hide, but no. That has to wait.

Right now, he just needs to keep moving. He's at one of the parks now, making fairly good magically-enhanced time. Moving among the hidden paths of Gotham, taking shortcuts through the sprawl where he can.

Finally at Gotham Park, he forces himself to stop. He's wheezing something awful, and isn't in nearly the shape to do this. A quick rest and then he'll be back on his feet, ready to go.
[identity profile] jla-forgotten.livejournal.com
The last fight had been a matter of power, of brutality.

This time, Roulette wants to offer something a little different to her crowd. Some of those in the crowd hadn't been able to handle the warrior women and the end result of it all last time.

Well, this time there will be no costumes, no super strength - nothing more than human ability.

This match has been arranged specially once Roulette realized what she had on her hands. It has cost her a pretty penny to do, too. "Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, I bring you something a little different. Tonight, I bring you a fight with no powers, no costumes. Nothing but deadly skill, precision and grace."
[identity profile] tx-instruments.livejournal.com
Noah is the first of the group to arrive - taking the time to set up a laptop at the large meeting table. They are gathering to discuss the recent conflict with Dr. Sivana's so-called Monster Society - their first meeting as a group since the invitations went out to the new members.

He also has a small box with him - gifts for his colleagues that should help keep them another step ahead of the good guys, and their fellow bad guys.

Party Time

Mar. 11th, 2009 01:21 pm
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
At one of Deathstroke's safehouse facilities, a visitor has come to call. Sivana's information puts the man here, and with most of the rest of the Society leadership tangled up in fights, he shouldn't have access to reinforcements.

And Clifford Zmeck owes Deathstroke. Owes him big time.

With a strength that rivals a Kryptonian, Zmeck takes out the armored front door of the house with a flick of his finger.

"Knock Knock. Can Sladey come out and play?"
[identity profile] mercwithaneye.livejournal.com
Gotham City is a shithole.

Always has been, always will be.

Deathstroke hates coming here, but it can't be avoided sometimes.  Especially when trying to find someone who doesn't leave tracks.

He could have tried to find her in Metropolis, but he's not about to stake out that annoying bar she's shown up in from time to time.

Richard Dragon's dojo in Gotham City is the most likely place to find Lady Shiva, which is why the Terminator is on a rooftop overlooking it.

No need to go down to fetch her.  She'll find him here eventually.
[identity profile] jla-legion.livejournal.com
In the span of a few seconds, Val finds himself torn from the center of a battle in Gotham's wharf distract, and placed bodily in a special prepared warehouse. His abductor, Jesse Quick, may regret her role in the maneuver, though - even in such a brief journey, Val has ample time to twist in her grasp and slam a nerve cluster in her side.
[identity profile] jla-legion.livejournal.com
Val, harried and hunted by the flying heroes, uses the cover of Gotham's harbor to cover the remaining distance to the city. He bursts from the water at one of the piers, startling seagulls and fishermen alike. There are a lot of potential hiding places here, where he might be able to rest and catch his breath - after all, Gotham has more abandoned warehouses per capita than any other city in the country.

Unfortunately, the heroes are expecting him, and still tracking him via his flight ring.

He stops in a narrow lane between two of the warehouses in the wharf area, to try and clear his head, and to see if his pursuers have bee evaded.


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