Alcatraz Debriefing

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

The cleanup went slowly, but it went. Once the power came back on, it was relatively easy to get most of the lower-leveled meta and non-powered prisoners herded back into their cells. The more powerful of the lot were secured using the inhibitor collars brought from the mainland - the initial attack left the collars on the island useless.

Warden Economos sat in his office awaiting the Titans. He wasn't looking forward to this discussion.

Stalked

[last-joke-x.livejournal.com]

The nip of the morning has the strongest bite of the coming winter. As Red casually moves along the rooftops of Chicago, his mind seems closed in on one task. Hunting. Twelve minutes until he knows a deal of some Colombian Gold makes it was in. It figures that it would be coming in through trucks. It was to be expected.

What wasn’t expected were three men cornering a young woman with beautiful brown eyes and shoulder length black hair near the alley of the corner store. She was only trying to catch the bus for work, but these three were hopping on so much poison, they were ready to do anything. And with the tools of death in their hands, they weren’t going to be done with her even after what they would do with her body.

“Leave.”

I’m not in the mood for this. Hate people that take advantage of women and children, drug dealers, and lawyers. They look like two of the three.

It goes without saying that all they do is laugh, as one of the three points his .22 revolver at Red’s direction. It goes without saying the other pumps the shotgun expelling a perfectly good shell and doing so just for effect. It goes without saying that the third zips up his fly while fumbling for his machete.

It goes without saying that Red starts for the man with the shotgun first crossing to a trash can and kicking it at the man with the .22. The shotgun bursts out the buckshot firing just where Red was standing before kicking the trash can. Enough of a diversion to make it within arms reach to the one welding the shotgun. Red’s body twists around bringing his leg up and coming to land on the attacker with the shotgun’s shoulder blade. A clean break comes and as if the attacker were having a seizer, that part of his body goes limp. Swinging him around, Red pushes him into the wall and then following with his elbow ramming the back of the man’s head and leaving his face now disfigured.

Almost feeling the .22 beaded on his back, Red rolls to the left then jumps backwards and slides on his back. Stopping just short of the one continuing his fire with the .22, a punch comes right between this other attacker’s legs. Spinning on his back and picking up momentum with his feet pushing about, Red jumps to his feet to land a fist into the man’s temple and then comes around to grab the man’s head with both hands and brings it down on his knee to then be repeated by the other knee.

This assault continues until the one with the machete is stupid enough to scream, giving away his position even better, and slices down to cut Red. Though the only thing he does cut through is the air. The man feels a foot lock around his heel and then looses balance to fall on his back.

Red stops with the one that held the .22 and just pushes the man back, who lost consciousness a time ago now. The one that lost his balance starts to gain his bearings, though is only clearing his head long enough to see Red walk over to him. As this man scrambles to his machete, Red’s foot comes down to crush many of the small bones in his hand. Another kick to the man’s jaw leaves him seeing darkness cloud his vision until he passes out.

After looking over the woman still backed as far as she can to the wall, it’s concluded that no physical harm came to her before he showed up. That’s enough as he starts to walk away without another word, though stops long enough to look over his shoulder.

“Please call the police and give them your statement of what these jackasses tried to do. Also, this wasn’t your fault so don’t think that.”
“W-who are you?”
“Red.”

And with that Red starts to make his way back up the rooftops noting he spent seven minutes at this and won’t have much time to make it to break up the drug connection deal to be made. Work still to do.

The Moon - Justice League WatchTower

[guy-lantern.livejournal.com]

Floating just outside the airlock, Guy waits for Kyle before entering. They have remains of a Manhunter to check out and a witness to talk to.

*comlink transmission*

[oracle-watching.livejournal.com]

"This is Oracle to any available Green Lantern ... we have a report of Manhunter activity in Chicago. This is Oracle to any available Green Lantern...."

(no subject)

[tefe-holland.livejournal.com]

He's probably the best person on the planet for finding information so I wasn't really surprised that Constantine was at the Interpol Headquarters. Not that he came straight to me, he went and talked to Ra's while I was outside. I knew he was there, I could smell the cigarette smoke in the air, you always know where he's been by the smell of smoke and cheap booze that follows him in a cloud.

I can't get away from him. Although maybe that is his point. You never know, Constantine never has just one reason for doing anything in his life. Everything is an angle to be played a game to cheat at.

They are still talking over who gets jurisdiction over Ra's and what will be done, I have the feeling this could take months and still there's kind of this weird feeling I need to learn quickly, absorb and file and store everything he tells me.

When I went back inside and discovered that Constantine had been there I went back outside. The jailer was annoyed with me, he didn't want to make another trip but one long look at him and he sighed and opened the door and let me back into the yard.

He was waiting there in all his trenchcoated glory.

"What the hell do you want?"

*Salem, Mass.*

[doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com]

He is in his place of power, meditating in a building of doors. Each door opens to a different point in his reality. Each door can only be opened from this place, and only with his permission. He's never thought much about the doors, at least, no more than anyone thinks about the doors to their home.

It had not occurred to him that there are more doors now, thousands of them. Thousands upon thousands. His infinite home has expanded. That is not a good sign.

Slowly, he drifts into a trance and lets his mind drift. One by one, he touches his allies -- the JSA, Detective Chimp, John Constantine, Brainiac 5, Nightstar. He takes nothing from them, does not disturb them in any way, but he is sure they feel a glimmer of his mind as it brushes over them.

Then, his mind touches Lyta's, and he knows he's inadvertantly woken her from sleep. She whispers his name before drifting off again. He can taste the salt in the Santa Monica air, and finds a strange comfort in that.

His mind drifts again, further this time, through new doors that cross the dimensional threshold -- one by one, his thoughts touch those of his new allies -- Doctor, Dr. Strange and the Magus. Silently, they see a glimmer of what he's learned, of how to carry on his work should he fall.

He doesn't intend to fall, but as he pulls his focus toward the shielded altar of Croutex, he knows it's a possibility. The evil that radiates from that wretched artifact chills him, makes his skin crawl.

And then, finally, he dreams -- allowing his mind to collate what he's seen and learned, leaving himself open to a final solution to decide the fate of all reality.

(no subject)

[last-joke-x.livejournal.com]

Red knew he wouldn’t have enough time to make it to the drug deal by rooftop alone. After the slight situation from earlier, he didn’t bother to change into street clothes. Placing the Kevlar enforced face helmet on, the bike started to race through traffic. What seemed almost ironic is the deal was taking place eight blocks away and six blocks away was where some of his darker activities of the past took place.

Ironic my ass. When I pulled out as Hood, these ass clowns more then likely went at it like rats.

(no subject)

[amazon-diana.livejournal.com]

She had been flying over the city towards the embassy when she spotted the fires. Fast moving fires accompanied by screams.

Flying through the twisting canyons of the buildings she sees a building erupting in flames and a group of people throwing torches onto the fire chanting Croutex's name. The residents are running from the cultists, the few who had tried to defend their home lying felled by bolts of magic from the cultists hands.

She streaks between the torch throwers and the building knocking the flaming brands back into the street.

It seems the followers of Croutex aren't ready to engage in a direct fight and they take advantage of her distraction by the fire to melt into the back alleys before she can capture them.

She does what she can to contain the fire from spreading until the fire crews can arrive to put out the blaze.

Spare Parts

[last-joke-x.livejournal.com]

Looking down to the two parts of the machine android called a manhunter, Red kept himself busy trying to pull out the shrapnel from his body, cleaning the wounds, then placing field dressings over the wounds. He knew well enough that these wounds will need to be treated in time; he knew better that he should try and control the temper that was flaring at an uncontrollable level before.

To this point Red never knew he had such hate and anger locked so deeply within him. It actually disturbed him that he had such primal emotion that seemed more destructive then when he went around as Red Hood.

Think about it later. Priorities right now.

Pressing his comlink, Red contacts Oracle as his voice comes out scratchy and rough. “Oracle. This is Red.”