All villains are equal, but some are more equal than others

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

Alcatraz was cracked open and the prisoners spilled free eagerly, but not everyone was spirited off the Rock. Some prisoners had only themselves to blame for that: they were too distracted by the chance to take revenge against the guards or the prison itself to grasp the larger freedom that awaited them across the Bay. As for the rest of the population....

A select few were taken directly to the mainland.

Many others were supplied with inflatable rafts equipped with small lightweight engines.

Some were given inflatable rafts and a set of oars.

Others, either through desperation or cunning, headed for the prison's own docks, where official motorboats awaited those able to overpower the guards.

The warden barricaded himself in his office and continued to sound the mayday, hoping that some help--any help--would arrive soon, before the Rock crumbled into the waters.

Comments

[jla-alcatraz.livejournal.com]

"Hey, kid," rumbles a voice. "Wanna see a trick? It's called lights out."

Suddenly there's a fist headed straight for Damage's face.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

What the heck--? Grant's already seen one fist on a collision course with his face today, and that one had been moving at supersonic speed. He isn't about to let himself get taken out with another shot to the face. Running at full speed, Grant's eyes grow wide under the goggles and he does all he can to try to make himself stop.

It works...sort of. Instead of running straight into the giant meathead's fist, Damage falls over on to his back - exactly the sort of tender love and care that a recently dislocated shoulder needs. Shunting power from his hands to his feet, Damage twists and lashes out with a hard kick, the heel of his boot heading straight for the thug's knee cap.

Who says comedic improvisation is a lost art?

[jla-alcatraz.livejournal.com]

Damage's boot thuds against D-Bomb's knee, but the big guy just grins. "Oooh. Love tap. Cute." He squints, and a series of small explosions start going off around Damage's body, heading up for the young Titan's ears.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Tremendous. Two powerhouses in one day. Of course, this one isn't wearing a red cape a shield over his chest emblazoned with a big red 'S', and Grant's got a lot of frustration to work off from what happened in New Jersey a short time ago.

The explosions trigger another burst of biochemical energy from his endocrine system, his fight-or-flight instincts kicking into overdrive, the aura around his fingers glowing, both fists ablaze with bluish-white energy. And, boy, does he look angry.

Rolling back over his left shoulder before the blasts can reach the sides of his head, Damage holds both fists out in front of him, loosing a wide-spread burst of explosive energy at the veiny man mountain. "You call those explosions?" he taunts, bringing his hands up in a boxer's stance.

[jla-alcatraz.livejournal.com]

"Nah, I call 'em warning shots." Damage's explosion hits D-Bomb's chest. "Heh. Tickles. You might be fun after all, kid. Let's rumble." And he rushes forward, arms spread wide.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Oh, come on!

Fortunately, Grant had been able to put a little space between himself and the big ugly. He's stopped an eighteen-wheeler doing sixty through downtown San Francisco. This should be a piece of cake, right?

He doesn't wait for D-Bomb to get close enough, just steps forward, cocks his fist back, and twists his shoulders, driving his glowing right fist straight at the man's nose, a grunt of pain audible from behind the rebreather as his shoulder protests the move.

[jla-alcatraz.livejournal.com]

The blow knocks D-Bomb off balance, and he windmills his arms wildly. When he recovers, he growls.

"Fun time's over, kid."

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Finally - he was able to phase him, even if just for a second. Maybe this isn't going to be an unfair fight after all. Still, he didn't floor the big lug and his shoulder isn't feeling all that great, either. "Aw, and here I thought it was just getting started," Damage says, his voice muffled behind the rebreather.

Dropping to one knee, Damage lifts his hands high in the air, clasping them together, the aura glowing brighter, beginning to travel up along his forearms. Without any further warning, Damage slams both hands into the ground, unleashing a torrent of energy through the ground, ripping up the rocky soil in front of him, a series of explosions firing off, one after the other, heading straight for D-Bomb.

[jla-alcatraz.livejournal.com]

D-Bomb charges forward, dodging most of the explosions, then tripping and landing on the ground with a mighty thud.

He doesn't stay down very long, though. He scrambles quickly to his feet and continues running towards Damage. "I'm gonna rip your head off, kid," he growls, "then I'm gonna give it to Power Girl as a present."

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Power Girl...? Grant thinks, his eyes going wide for a moment behind his goggles. The heck is this guy talking about?

But no sooner does that thought cross his mind than D-Bomb is on top of him again. What is it going to take to put this guy down? He's got to contain this guy - if D-Bomb manages to get past Damage and on into the city, it could very well take the whole team to put him down...or at least Starfire and Nightstar, anyway.

Side-stepping the larger man, ducking out of the way of his outstretched hands, Grant reaches back and grabs D-Bomb's wrist, then pulls back and down, hoping to throw him to the ground. Why do I get the feeling this isn't the smartest thing I've ever done...?

[jla-alcatraz.livejournal.com]

D-Bomb doesn't fall. He takes off, flying. "Dangle or drop, kid?" he asks, swinging his arm back and forth.

[mari-grayson.livejournal.com]

He will find his ascent impeded by an angry half-Tamaranean, firing starbolts at him with impunity as she closes in to deliver a high-velocity punch. "How about neither?"

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

It is a very good thing that Damage grabbed on to D-Bomb's wrist with both hands, because otherwise, he probably would have been flung into the middle of downtown San Francisco the way this meathead is carrying on. They're high up - a couple hundred feet - but not so far up that a fall from this heigh would be fatal. It'd just hurt. A lot. City officials might even be able to make a sizable reservoir out of the impact crater.

And then he hears Mar'i's voice.

Damage's face breaks into a smile behind the rebreather and he glances in her direction. Got one shot at this...he thinks as he's being jerked back and forth in the air.

His power aura - which, by this point, has traveled up to his shoulders - flares brightly and he grips D-Bomb's wrist as hard as he possibly can. "You heard the lady!" he calls out. With that, a tremendous rush of biochemical energy courses through his fingers, and Damage unleashes an enormous blast of explosive energy at point blank range, focused on the big, meaty wrist he holds between his hands.

The explosion can be heard, and probably seen, from miles away.

He falls, his back toward the earth, eyes searching for Nightstar. Oh, man...this is really gonna hurt...

[mari-grayson.livejournal.com]

Nightstar prudently fires another pair of starbolts at the roaring D-Bomb, then swoops in to catch Damage before he falls. "Are you all right?" she asks anxiously.

[damage-granted.livejournal.com]

Hurtling through the air, Damage closes his eyes, doing his best to remain calm. Maybe if he doesn't thrash around a whole lot, he'll create an air cushion that will reduce the power of the impact. Yeah. Sure.

But just as he's contemplating what the after life will be like - will he have to wear Birkenstocks? - a dark-haired, green-eyed angel plucks him out of the sky, catching him in her outstretched arms, knocking the wind out of him for the moment. Turning his head toward Nightstar, Grant nods, his smile wide behind the rebreather.

"I am now."

[mari-grayson.livejournal.com]

"Good." She glances behind her, then swoops around, adjusting her grip on Grant so they hold each other by the wrists, circling quickly to catch the now-unconscious D-Bomb. "Don't want him to fall on somebody!" she shouts at Grant as she flies them both to join the other Titans on the mainland.