[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com
"Ow." Beast Boy murmurs, rubbing the inside of his cheek. Sharp fangs and a vegetarian diet makes for an easily abused set of gums. "So much for popcorn..." Garfield mutters, sighing as he sets the bowl of stuff on the coffee table. He had been debating giving Dick a call, but ultimately decided that the best thing he could do for his old friend is to give the guy a little space. The last time Gar tried to be mature and thoughtful when addressing something tragic, he ended up framed for murder by his very own costumed nemesis. So, instead, Beast Boy's locked himself away...uh, kicked back for some time by himself. Yeah. That's it. "What's on, anyway..."

Click. "Seen it." Click. "Seen it." Click. "Didn't get a call back for it..." Click.

Garfield's eyes widen at the sight; a prawn-looking alien creature was being ripped apart by grim looking physicians in pale white scrubs, clinically dissecting living, thinking beings in front of a terrified person who had the misfortune to be accidentally exposed to the alien DNA. Seen this, Beast Boy thinks, as the memories come flooding back. King Tawaba's corpse, the flight from the Nigerian mobsters...

"I didn't know..." The Afrikaner insists to another crustacean. "Liar." Beast Boy mutters, remembering a young boy who had helped the impoverished mutant, giving food and offering shelter. Garfield slipping inside of the building, not hearing the metal doors slamming shut until it was too late, seeing the bag of money shoved into his 'friend's hand as he's dragged off by large men in thick, pale medical scrubs. "...your father's making it all up..." the victim insists to his wife, and Garfield remembers years later when he learned who the mysterious man in the wheelchair he caught out of the corner of his eye was.

Beast Boy's transfixed, trapped by the film even as he recalls four expressions of revulsion and disgust on four feminine faces, as the 'hero' is absolutely rejected by his wife, "Really, idiot?" Terra sneered, kicking Beast Boy in the ribs and putting her cigarette out on his face for good measure while the Terminator looked on with incestuous paternal pride. "Why do you think I never let you touch me? It just amazes me, how much of my crap you took, cause sweet, innocent, buck-toothed Tara'd never deceive her special someone..." It was all flirtation, the whole thing a show for Deathstroke's sake, he could smell her arousal as she came closer, and closer, and bit Garfield's nose, digging in until he started to bleed.

"I love the look on their faces when they die." The sadistic soldier whispered, jabbing the alien in the rubs with a pistol and Beast Boy finally manages to hit the remote, clicking the television off and looking at his shaking hands...the left holding a hunk of wood that he'd been chewing.

Like a hamster.

Sinking his face into his knees, Beast Boy refuses the instinct to shift forms, digging his claws into his palms and praying to himself that he keeps quiet. He doesn't think he can take putting on a smile right now.
[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.
[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] jla-villains.livejournal.com
"Ladies and gentleman, if you cooperate quietly, you may get out of this with all your digits and limbs intact. Empty your pockets into the sacks held by my fellow high-rollers and get down on the floor. And to any aspiring heroes among you.." Double Down ripped a piece of his cheek off, revealing a Jack of Clubs, which he hurled into the shoulder of an already disabled security guard. "You should get the point."

He turned to the tellers, slicing open the plexiglass window before hopping through with an armful of sacks, tossing them at the panicked workers. "Fill 'em up!"

He kept a handful of cards ready at each side as the haul was gathered. Not a bad day so far. Cashed in a few IOU's with some tech-saavy fellow Rogues and gotten a teleporter good for a few charges. Two banks already hit and stashed fast enough that the police were busy elsewhere in town, and three charges left. Clear this bank, back to the safe-house, then off to a nice sunny spot in the Caymans. Dr. Alchemy in tow to run interference, and a couple mooks off the street to help with extra lifting.

All in all, Jeremy Tell was looking at his big score.
[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com
"It's Guy Love, that's all it is! Guy love! He's mine, I'm his! There's nothing gay about it, in our eyes..." Beast Boy sings, thinking he is alone in the sinister TITANS LEADERSHIP MEETING ROOM, by which we mean Cyborg's secret no kids allowed clubhouse. It's a big room with a plain metal table-all of the cool stuff is hidden in the walls or the table, because Cyborg's crazy like that. Groaning a little, Beast Boy takes off one of his boots, wincing at his clawed, mildly ape-like feet. Not full on gorilla toes, mind, but if he wasn't so bashful about it, Beast Boy could probably leap from rooftop to rooftop using those honkers. Letting a little sigh out, Garfield rubs his foot, which is throbbing a little from being in 'proper' boots all night. "...while I'm proud to call you chocolate bear, the crowd will always stop and stare~"

Needless to say, Garfield Logan's major mistake this evening is forgetting that his fellow senior Titans are, in fact, supposed to have an important post-mission meeting here in a minute or two.
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/
Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

But whoever is on monitor duty might think he or she saw a ghost, or the shadow of a ghost, or the suggestion of a shadow of a ghost, on the security monitors. Funny, all the motion detectors and entrance records indicate the only people home are Titans.

Maybe it IS a ghost?

Going West

Apr. 27th, 2009 02:16 am
[identity profile] -nightwing-.livejournal.com
Even though there's not much travel time involved in going from Philadelphia to San Francisco these days, Nightwing's still got plenty of opportunity to consider the situation on the west coast. Terra - the first one - wrought untold havoc on the team, most notably on Gar, but her alliance with Deathstroke was a kick to the head none of them could have seen coming. With this new Terra's appearance, and a 'coincidental' appearance of a new teenager wearing Deathstroke's colors, saying he's feeling skeptical of good intentions would be something of an understatement. But that's why they're heading out there, after all - to figure out what the hell's going on.

The three East Coast Titans resolve into being inside the Tower's teleport room.
[identity profile] beastlyboy.livejournal.com
Outrageously Hawaiian shirt? Check. Sporty jean shorts? Check. Fancy leather flip flops? Check. Aviator sunglasses, corn cob pipe, and genuine Pattonesque army helmet? Check.

"Time to go to work." Beast Boy states, snapping his hands behind his back and stepping out to the Tower's lounge. "Alright, listen up troops!"

A pause. Beast Boy sighs, pulls a triangle out of somewhere, and rings it a little. "I said LISTEN U-p. Aheh. Thank you. Now! Ahem. Today we see a step forward in the endless trek of justice! Some of you wonderful guys may not make it home, but all of you will be able to say, "I was there, and I was a MAN.". Except the ladies. They can say, "I was a LADY.", if they'd prefer. Their call, no judgments here." Beast Boy coughs again. "One of the most important aspects of superheroing is the secret identity. And tonight, we're going to be putting the protection of that identity to the test. Teen Titans, tonight..."

Beast Boy slaps the poster behind him, showing the 'Fun Haus', a hip new Gotham nightspot that's made a few of the society papers. "...we are going clubbing! Clubbing, for DANGER. If we can survive a night out with our secret identities intact, we know we can handle those tricky infiltration missions that pop up every once in a while." You know, when the uniforms get boring. "Any questions, troops?"
[identity profile] kidflash2.livejournal.com
Having super-speed is a fantastic power - from Keystone City to San Francisco in under a minute. Jay and Joan were nice to stay with, but sometimes it was nice to hang out with people his own age.

Of course, that was assuming anyone was home. The tower is mostly empty at the moment - the other 'weekend' Titans aren't due to arrive for a few hours. So Bart is out in the garden, stacking rocks. It's much harder than it sounds, really - rounded rocks that by all rights should tumble right off of one another - sustained in their tower-like formation with judicious use of micro-air bursts at super-speed.

He's got it up to about four feet tall now, vanishing and reappearing at various sides.
[identity profile] bewaresinestro.livejournal.com
"Jump City? They're really thinking of naming the whole projected 'super city' area Jump City?" Simon Estavez shakes his head, crumpling the newspaper and depositing it in the proper recycling bin. He lowers his sunglasses, allowing eerie yellow eyes to pulse lightly as a ring made of sheer terror reaches out, scanning the immediate area. "Philistines do not deserve this piece of history-and those who do not take the proper measures to secure what is theirs soon find themselves lacking anything at all."

The fascist's rigid posture remains as solid and unyielding as ever, as he delicately places his hand into a strange machine; the trash can shaped object pulses, almost organically, taking a scan of the data being fed to it...and yellow light fills the object, pumping as though it were a living heart.

Allowing his human disguise to fade away, Sinestro smiles at the effect. "Soon, the Nightmare Engine will be fully primed, feeding off of the repressed anxieties of this sick, weakening city...and then, not even the Teen Titans will be able to stop us from stealing the Golden Gate Bridge!"

[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.

Now what?

Dec. 9th, 2008 08:58 pm
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_bird_of_flame_/
Bette is at Titans Tower on the West Coast. She's soaking in what sun she can in one of the rooms that have large windows. She sitting in the sun with her legs crossed and her eyes closed. Carefully, she's breathing in and out and in and out. She'd been doing some yoga earlier but right now she's just sitting here, trying to find the calm center in the whirlwind that has become her life.

She's slowly pulling air in and pushing it out.

Hopefully something will fall into place.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
The City by the Bay is no better off than New York or Philadelphia. Brainiac's plan with this city isn't quite so clean-cut as the prior two... Metallo and his army of replicants appear in San Francisco split into two groups, one on the Golden Gate Bridge, and the other on the shore of Alcatraz.

The replicants on the Bridge start by turning cars over, smashing the doors in so the passengers can't escape. And then the cars are lifted by the cybernetic constructs, and one-by-one, are launched over the edge and into the water.

The replicants on Alcatraz swarm up the side of the prison like rats over a corpse, a Jason Todd replicant leading, as Metallo is on the Bridge. Guards and prisoners both join the fray, as the replicants attack indiscriminately.
[identity profile] vic-stone.livejournal.com
Now that the meet and greet part was done, it was time to separate the wheat from the chaff.

The first round of the audition process was fairly simple. Make it one complete lap around the training. Easier said than done, since there would be a number of obstacles in their path, not to mention the added pressure of the senior members of the Titans watching. It wasn't on one of the higher difficulty settings, so if anyone auditioning could clear it, then they had potential. And anyone who couldn't? Well... they needed a bit more work before being Titans ready.

Vic looked down at the list in front of him, then announced the order of each person who had to go through the course.
[identity profile] jla-extras.livejournal.com
With a number of new, young heroes cropping up all over the nation, there has been much discussion of the role that the Titans will take in training and assisting the new crop of super-heroes. Heroes like Static. And the Scarab. And Zachary Zatara. And Vulcan.

In some cases, there isn't a lot of available information - so an 'open house' has been scheduled, welcoming would-be Titans to the tower in San Francisco.
[identity profile] kidflash2.livejournal.com
As the satellite appears in the strange dimension, Bart is at the ready - his team's job is to keep the mind-controlled Legion members busy until they can be freed. That means he'll have to take on XS..

"Okay, let's try not to hurt any of them too badly, since they could be a lot of help later on. Let's go!"

He taps the control for the satellite's teleportation system, to beam his team down in the vicinity where the Legionnaires are massed - then zips back to the teleporter pad as the beam energizes.
[identity profile] jla-extras2.livejournal.com
Aboard the Watchtower, a meeting begins - with teleconference presence for the Teen Titans, the Titans West, the Justice Society and more. Unaffiliated heroes have been invited to the Watchtower to listen in, as well.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for your attention."

Brainiac Five addresses the superhero community, calm and collected as he speaks to the most powerful entities on the planet.

"Some of you may already be aware of the growing problems. The forces of magic are reportedly in chaos; strange events have been occurring all over the globe, and I have detected an unusual degree of temporal flux."

The briefing continues.. )

"I will now open the floor to questions."
[identity profile] boy-of-steel.livejournal.com
Titans stand up for one another. Titans are a team, and if we're ever going to be taken seriously by the League, we have to act like it.

Kon-El has taken it upon himself to stand watch at the hospital. He knew that the LEague wa probably watching, maybe the Atom was in his tiny action-figure chair in the monitor room watching some boring dissertation on string theory on the picture-in-picture while he kept the main screen tuned to an exterior shot of this hospital, Speedy and Green Arrow in beds a few floors below. Hell, Batman probably had live feeds of the security camera system piped into that big creepy cave of his.

But Superboy ws here, in person, sitting on the corner of the room, trying to stay awake and stand watch. Because it needed to be doing. If one of Green Arrow's enemies showed up, if that little freakjob Brother Blood decided that now was the perfect time to cross a Ttian off his personal death list...

Anything, for any reason. He'd be grateful for the action. Guard duty was frigging boring.

But it's what Superman would do. So it's what Superboy would do, too.
[identity profile] http://users.livejournal.com/_wondergirl_/
Cassie Sandsmark padded into the kitchen of Titans Tower, her eyes darting left and right hungrily. She was starving. A thin sheen of sweat covered her lithe, toned body, and her long blonde locks were plastered to her California-tan forehead.

She popped open a fridge and pulled out a small container of hummus. Reaching into a nearby cabinet, she pulled out a bag of garlic-flavoured pita chips. A smile crossed the teenager's face.

Hummus. And pita chips.

All she needed now was a Cherry Zesti, and she was good to go.

She took a seat at the counter, pulling a stool up underneath her.

Titans Tower had been quiet lately...a lot of things had been quiet lately.

More so than usual.

It was like the calm before the storm.

She didn't like that feeling much.
[identity profile] katavatar.livejournal.com
Katar Hol hasn't put on the Hawkman uniform since the disaster on Thanagar.

He's supposed to. He should be protecting Chicago. Working with the League. Doing what he normally does.

But this is his life's greatest failure, even if it was entirely out of his hands. Failure to save Thanagar from ruin, from jackbooted tyranny, will always haunt him.

Leave it to Katar to put the weight of a world on his own shoulders.

He does have a call to make. Blackfire has conquered his home, and her sister should know about it. He finally has the number, so he's soon ringing the Titan base in hopes of speaking to Starfire, a woman he scarcely knows.

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