jla_watchtower | Paying a call on Fate

Did someone just knock on the door? Her meltdown had ceased...just stopped, and she looked around quizically.

Did the phone ring? She got up from the table and wandered through the house. No. No messages and the front porch was empty. But she could have sworn something caught her attention and she was feeling an urge to go out. Someplace in specific but she didn't know where. That was enough for her.

She hurried upstairs to change her clothes, hesitating for a moment as something prompted her to dust off the costume. Odd...definately odd but she listened. Then it was a quick note to tell John she'd gone out to follow her nose, follow if he could...all assuming he came back before she did...and left the note taped to his carton of silk cuts in the fridge.

Double checking that she had her JLA comm and her cell phone tucked safely away she made her way back into the library and the wall she'd been using more often as a doorway. She squares herself in front of the wall then takes a deep breath.

"esaelp, meht ot latrop a nepO .em sllac enoemoS."

The portal flashes to life and she steps through...to the base of Dr. Fate's tower? What the...

She knocks...if there's a door to knock on.

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"....oh shit....Gemma...." John's not gonna be pissed at her for losing control of a summoning. He's gonna go ape when he finds out his niece is missing.

She steps closer to him with a firm look, more determined than anything else.

"We have to fix this." In case he hadn't realized, this pretty much confirms that she's still more than connected to John.

"We can indeed," he says with dead certainty. In his own way, he's as unreadable as John. He seems so open and easy going, but it's impossible to get what's going on behind his eyes. "My guess is the tower called to people who could help guide it back. One wonders who else is making their way to Salem as we speak."

"Then wonder no longer, mate," says a hoarse voice.

The Wizard appears beside them, clutching his side. There's a gash in his torso which he's clutching shut with his blood-soaked hands.

"Seems we've returned to the scene of the crime."

He's wobbly, about to pass out.

She can't help but smile a bit at Dr. Occult's attitude towards all of this, put a bit at ease, not entirely, but a bit.

That changes rather abruptly. The Wizard doesn't look like he can do more than breathe but from what she's heard, she's not about to take it at face value.

"You have got to be kidding me."

He coughs up a little blood.

"Not ... COUGH ... at all, My dear. I'm afraid ... the past ... is catching up."

He staggers a bit, and then falls to his knees.

She gives him a look then turns to Dr. Occult with a hand on her hip, her hat skewing a bit on her head.

"I don't know about you but I would think the tower or whatever could have called up a little better than that." An idle gesture of her hand towards Wizard.

Occult steps backward from Zard, and the intention is clearly "Please don't bleed on my shoes," although he's too polite to say so.

"Perhaps," he says, rubbing his chin, "a little laeh dnuow wouldn't go amiss. Mr. Zard was there, after all, when we defeated Wotan. Even helped."

He leans down to look at the wounded Wizard.

"I even imagine this is, in part, his fault."

She frowns at Wizard, crossing her arms and mumbles something about he probably just made it look like he helped.

She looks at Dr. Occult for a moment then gives a hmph and steps closer, not really wanting blood on her newly dusted off costume herself it isn't that close.

"Fine. delaeh eb draziW." She gestures towards the prone Wizard as she looks at Occult. "But if he gets any bright ideas that isn't to our benefit, don't blame me."

The Wizard gasps as the wound heals, but he still looks exhausted and, frankly, petrified.

"Th ... thank you," he says, trying to regain his composure.

He then turns toward Occult.

"He's back."

"He's been back for some time no," says Occult, raising an eyeball. I remember reports of him fighting the Justice League awhile back."

"Not like this," says Zard. "Back in '43, when we fought him underneath Fawcett, I knew that if he were ever to get completely free of whatever bindings I cast, he'd be out for blood, so I took advantage of Fate's spell and trapped him somewhere that would hold him for a good, long while."

The Wizard looks a little proud of himself.

"I split his very soul, and trapped it and a portion of his power inside the very fabric of magic itself."

He shrugs.

"It seemed a fitting punishment, to be trapped within that which he was trying to control."

"I see," says Occult, cooly. "And now he's back."

"So it would appear."

Nothing quite like being on the outside of a club.

She listened to the exchange at first with a tad bit of irritation. That grew to hold a bit of amusement. Not so much at the situation. More at herself and the fact that she seems to be the only one she knows who honestly looks her age.

So with a tilt of her head and a small smirk, she asks, "So. Someone want to let the youngin' in on who you're talking about?"

"Of course. In 1943, the Injustice Society and the All-Star Squadron joined forces to battle Wotan in Fawcett City. To make a long story short, the conflict came down to a battle between Wotan and Captain Nazi. Wotan tried to escape, but Dr. Fate used magic to prevent that escape. Mr. Zard here took the opportunity to trap Wotan in a binding spell, splitting his soul into two, and trapping it along with a good deal of his power inside the very fabric of magic itself."

He stops to take a puff on his pipe.

"It seems we're missing some relevant details, but suffice it to say, Wotan has returned, and is whole again. Evidently, it was his escape that caused the disturbance we all felt."

Another long, contemplative pause.

"Well then, it would seem our first order of business is to return Fate's tower to its proper place in space-time. I imagine the three of us should be more than up to the task."

Paying a call on Fate

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