jla_watchtower | Entries tagged with dr. occult

grey-walker.livejournal.com

Returning to the Earth dimension from a journey beyond, the Stranger appears in the shadows of a cramped little New York office - the windows' shades have been pulled, and the only light in the cluttered room is provided by a glowing disk, floating in the air before a figure kneeling on the floor.

The Stranger approaches the man, who knows him as well as any can.

"Dr. Occult. Have you made any progress locating the Spectre?"

jla-goldenage.livejournal.com

In a London alleyway, Richard Occult steps from the shadows and waits. He's sent the signals, and the others are ... reliable. After a fashion. He lights up his pipe, and takes a puff.

The fog clings desperately to the buildings here. Absently, he finds himself observing it, the way it moves and creeps. He shakes his head, and looks around. Yes. The Magic Shop. He thought this place looked familiar. The place they met young Tim Hunter. Not to be confused with Rip, whom he never met directly this last trip. The symmetry strikes him, and he files it away for later.

It's all symmetry. Same as it's ever been. And again, he's called on the same allies to examine it.

jla-villains.livejournal.com

Degaton's command ship -- a warship appropriated from the Warlords of Okaara -- hovers, like the rest of Vanishing Point, in a temporal "pocket." To do so otherwise would risk sliding into the future ... into the last remaining moments of the universe.

Consequently, the battle outside of his window is happening entirely at one precise instant ... a moment literally frozen in time. Degaton throws back his head. Sometimes temporal mechanics leave even his head hurting.

The soldiers and engineers around him are impassive, but the man himself is pensive, concerned at the raging war.

"How did Hunter raise an army so quickly?" he muses, but no one dares answer, nor does he expect them to. "No matter. Our forces are inside Vanishing Point, and when it is mine, we can execute the last chronal alterations ... stabilize the altered timelines into one coherent series of events. Rewrite history in my image."

HAIL DEGATON! the soldiers shout on cue. And at that, Degaton smiles.

"Yes," he says. "Hail Degaton. ... And if Hunter and his allies win."

He shrugs.

"There's always the backup plan."

There is no cheering at that. Indeed, the soldiers seem chilled to the bone.

jla-forgotten.livejournal.com

I'm called Rip Hunter. That's not my name. No one knows my true name, and I won't even record it here. Too much is at stake, and if it means I die forgotten, then so be it.

When Degaton's cat's paw, the Witch Queen, rose, Earth's heroes were destroyed. Those that survived pulled together to form The Justice Batallion, and now most of them have fallen, also.

The Witch Queen, like myself, had an identity shrouded in mystery -- untraceable by my best methods. Now, I know her name, but it may be too late.

I put my own pieces in place. The Forgotten Heroes -- champions already tossed between worlds and times. And so the shadow war began ... neither side knowing who the other's players were. But Degaton's forces grew too quickly, and his pawns caused chaos in timeline after timeline. Heroes fell. And then ... this.

Rip Hunter stops the log, and walks to Vanishing Point's observation deck. Outside, an armada thousands of starships strong stands poised to shield the chronal station. The Linear Men are dead, and his Forgotten Heroes are scattered across time. He's only had time to retrieve two of his agents.

"This is it," he says over the communicators. "If we fall here, I just want you to know it's been an honor to fight by your side."

Current Location: Vanishing Point

jla-goldenage.livejournal.com

Dr. Richard Occult takes politely of the feast Prince Khufu, the first incarnation of Hawkman, has provided to the weary travelers, but his attention remains fixed on his colleauges.

Hector Hall, the current (by his reckoning) incarnation of Fate eats not at all, refusing to remove his helmet. The chaos magicks that have infested his aura are growing stronger, making him edgy. So too is Gemma Marsters, after Arion's revelation that she may be destined to become the Witch Queen.

They wait for Nabu, whom Khufu has sent for. The delay in his arrival concerns Occult. Something is wrong.

The other shoe drops an hour into the meal, when an Egyptian messenger comes, sprinting into Khufu's tent.

"Your .. your highness ... It is Nabu. He has arrived, but .. he ... he ..."

The messenger stops, and catches his breath.

"Your highness, he is plagued by demons."

jla-extras.livejournal.com

A flash of light from Arion's hands, and the time-lost JSA and their allies -- Dr. Fate, Dr. Occult, The Flash, Jakeem Thunder and Gemma Marsters -- vanish from the lush and verdant fields of long-gone Atlantis, and find themselves instead in an arid desert, underneath a blistering sun.

jla-forgotten.livejournal.com

With Fate's agreeing to escape the Witch Queen, rather than to fight, the heroes dive through the portal, following the object of their quest ... an amulet that could balance the forces of chaos within the sorceror.

One moment, they're at the bottom of the ocean, protected from the depths by only magic. Suddenly, they find themselves in a verdant field under a bright, blue sky and shining sun. In the distance looms a city ... familiar, yet different. The air is fresh and clean, cool against the heroes' skins.

"Welcome, says a caped man with long, brown hair. "Welcome to Atlantis. Please forgive the manner in which I brought you here."

The man smiles, and though he looks young, there's also something impossibly old about him. "My name is Arion."

doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com

Hector Hall sits alone on a throne of stone in his tower, blood pulsing through his temples. The Helm of Nabu whispers dark things at him, but he pushes the skittering voice aside. He will not fall to chaos. Doing so is unthinkable.

So why don't you just cast off the helm? says the voice. He has no answer. The misery has gripped him since he returned from Bete Noir. His magic is wild, now. Sloppy. Things do not happen with the precision to which he's become accustomed.

"My soul is imperiled," he whispers to no one, and as he speaks, he realizes that they are the first words he's spoken in hours ... maybe all day.

Rose Psychic left them to seek assistance. She believes she has an answer for him. And Gemma ... Gemma has surely become concerned, by now. His absences and solitude are nothing new, but there is a shadow fallen over this tower. He doesn't know how to find the light again.

jsaboss.livejournal.com

The talk with Maxine Hunkel went well, and Michael Holt's got a good feeling about her. She's young and a little awkward, but she doesn't lack for enthusiasm. He's interested to see where things go.

The thought of new members has been on his mind, what with Sand leaving and Alan and Carter MIA. And then there was that report Jay brought back about that vision of Fate in the future. He's never met the man, but warnings from The Phantom Stranger, as he understands it, are something to take seriously. Michael's tried to reach Hector, but to no avail.

He tries to put it out of his mind. The team's needed some serious bonding time for a while, and seeing off Sand properly's as good an excuse as any. get the team refreshed and rejuvenated. Then they tackle their problems one at a time.

He walks from his office to the main lounge, to see who all's here.

Something in the back of his head tells him it'll be a late night.

mari-grayson.livejournal.com

The Dreaming is, by its very nature, not bound by the laws that govern the physical universe, and yet those laws may inform its form and function. Time and geography have different meanings here, and even those meanings may shift as the dreamers (or the Lord Shaper himself) wish, but at this time, there is a place that has been set aside by order of Dream himself.

It is a place more clearly defined than others in the Dreaming, owing something to Dream's library, and something to the hall of a great king meeting with his knights and advisors, and in it now waits Nightstar, Titan and servant of the Lord of Dreams, who has been instructed to welcome the attendees.

From worlds known and unknown to her they arrive ... all bearing great power, as their universes count it: power of magic, sorcery, wizardry, or that granted by divine blessing. Many races, many traditions, but all united in the wish to preserve their universes.

doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com

Fate stands on the precipice between worlds, watching the battle between Merlynne, the Enchantress and their sundry allies.

The sky is streaming phosphoresence. The ground beneath his feet is solid music. Swiftly, he begins to move through worlds to aid his friends, when he feels a presence behind him.

"I need to join the battle," he says simply, not turning to face those behind him.

jla-extras.livejournal.com

In a bid to cast his influence over the tenth age of magic, the villainous Wotan set in motion a plan that pitted some of the most significant figures in magic against one another.

Wotan has fallen, but so too have Dr. Fate, John Constantine and Zatanna.

The Spectre is unleashed, and the First of the Fallen is positioned to take advantage of the situation.

It's all come to a head here.

And now a new player on the scene. Most present know her as Lyta Hall, the former heroine named Fury. The wife of the current Dr. Fate.

But there's a shadow over her, despite the blazing sun.

And in her hands she wields a weapon most have only heard whispers of ...

The Spear of Destiny.

"Stop," she says in a low whisper that, miraculously, everybody hears.

jla-villains.livejournal.com

... and in a heartbeat, everything transforms. A dungeon beneath Fawcett City, a rift between the Green and The Mortal World -- both have led to an Obsidian Canyon, where below mystic heroes and their allies, having triumphed over the villains who've thrown in with Wotan, now face an army of demons surrounding them on all sides. Above them, rifts between worlds appear, dragging the deadly combat between Fate and Wotan into the fray, The Phantom Strange and Tefe Holland on their heels...

And from all directions now, a rage that can consume worlds swirls, howling through the inferno of mystic energy that swirls in all directions.

The Spectre is here, its ungrounded wrath all focused in one direction: John Constantine.

And so the battle begins in earnest ...

jla-goldenage.livejournal.com

"Well, we're not inconspicuous," says Rose, as the mystics gather at the ruined house of the now-dead sheriff. "I suppose that's good."

The plan here was to engage Wotan, to drag him into a fight when the Spectre returned, but so far, there's nothing but silence.

But this was, not long ago, a thriving suburban neighborhood, and now seemingly everyone has left. It's a ghost suburb, complete with ghost: The sheriff who bound the hero Balbo the Boy Magician -- enslaved the noble youth's spirit to murder other heroes every ten years -- is now chained to the spot he died before revealing the last of his secrets to Jim Gordon.

"The end of the age has come," says the ghost, standing above the trapdoor entrance to the labyrynth below. "The age of Wotan is here."

Rose stares at the ghost and absently makes a clicking sound with her tongue.

"Will someone please make him go away so we can get on with it? I dislike walking through ghosts immensely."

zatanna-z.livejournal.com

Hurt. Things hurt. So many things hurt it was hard to pinpoint which one hurt the worse. Then her fingers twitched causing the raging pins and needles sensation which led to her arms jerking and she knew what hurt the most right now: her shoulders.
( Read more... )

zatanna-z.livejournal.com

Gotham. The Opera House. Midnight.

She's wearing her best tuxedo coat, her white shirt and tie are pressed so that a single wrinkle couldn't even think of forming. Brand new fishnets and a pair of patent leather, black calf boots that are polished so much a person could see their reflection in them. And her father's hat.

Her show began 45 minutes ago to a packed house. As usual it started with the typical stage tricks and slights of hand. Gradually she added a few of her dad's touches out of respect. Then her own flair entered the act. Rabbits from hats morphed into pure white doves. Juggled balls continued to bounce around as she stepped away from them then proceeded to spell out the name of someone in the audience. Could anyone truly hold it against her if the first name was "John"?

She's saving the pinnacle of her act for the guest star if he shows....he better show or.... She could use it to get her ass out of here but that's not the point. She'll use it to actually get closer. She already has a plan to make it look good.

And the show must go on....

Come on you bastard...

doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com

The pub is empty, saved for the horned, blue-skinned bartender. The others will be here soon -- maybe even more than expected. He knows others have felt the same rumblings he has since Wotan returned.

Fate and Zard enter in silence, neither making any effort to disguise their presence. The bartender nods, and they take seats at the table.

doctorfatejsa.livejournal.com

Fate and Ibn, exit to a sitting room near Fate's study, as Dr. Zukov is currently using said study for an equally important task. No matter. Formalities mean little to Nabu.

As they leave, Dr. Occult, Jim Gordon and The Wizard follow, and Fate nods to the other mages to follow if they are free.

Ma Hunkel, whom even Fate considers a mystic in her own way, has coffee brewed and waiting for them.

"Commissioner Gordon, I beg your forgiveness at the oddness of your situation, and I promise we will return you home as soon as possible."

He turns his attnention to Ibn.

"Now then," he says, tell me what news "Lady Death brings us."

jsaboss.livejournal.com

He only caught snippets of wht happened in Fawcett. He knows he has incoming, and wounded, but not who. The Atom is at his side, running data for the JLA.

He's got all JSA staff on alert, and Atom's keeping all JLA staff on standby.

All Hell has broken loose, and although he's not a religious man, he's starting to think that might be literal.

zatanna-z.livejournal.com

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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JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Entries tagged with dr. occult

And Miles To Go..

"Forgotten" -- Epilouge Two

"Forgotten" -- The Conclusion! *Part Two"

War's End ...

The Past is Prologue -- Ancient Egypt

Back to the beginning

After Atlantis

Salem -- Fate's Watchtower

The JSA Brownstone

Between the worlds we know and the worlds that are, there lies the Dreaming....

InBetween

As Time Goes By -- The Big Finish

The Last Battle of This Age of Magic?

Fawcett City

Bound

PREEE - senting!!

The Black Dragon Pub, Outside Gotham

JSA Brownstone -- a sitting room near Fate's study

JSA Brownstone -- The War Room

Paying a call on Fate

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November 2016

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