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

[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.