jla_watchtower | Entries tagged with question

jla-futures.livejournal.com

When the white light clears away this time, the abductees find themselves standing in an environment that is, if possible, even blander than the soul-destroying corporate cube farm. The horizon and sky--or is it a ceiling?--overhead are smooth and white, though with a slight curve to it suggesting that they are looking up at the inside of an enormous eggshell.

The floor, however, is not quite so featureless, though still quite bland. It seems to be made up of oval tiles, a pale cream in color, fit together quite closely. Each of the abductees can feel a slight thrumming vibration beneath their feet, suggestive of an orchestra tuning up.

jla-futures.livejournal.com

When the white light fades away, the abductees find themselves in a markedly artificial environment. Instead of a patchwork of different natural terrains, each individual is in an office cubicle. Within the brown fabric walls is a chair and a desk, and on each desk is a large screen, rather like the touch-sensitive monitors used in certain office environments or tourist kiosks.

There is Muzak playing overhead, a familiar tune turned bland and boring. Somewhere, Louis Armstrong is rolling in his grave.

jla-futures.livejournal.com

It is a jumble of landscapes, all juxtaposed against one another - fragments of a thousand worlds, each with their own weather and climate, arranged like a living, three-dimensional collage. A frozen glacier abuts a sweltering jungle, which soon gives way to an acre - no more - of desert, that borders a half-dozen other terrains. One concession, at least, has been made to the new occupants of this patchwork plane - the atmosphere has been tailored to the oxygen-nitrogen mix to which they are accustomed.

jla-futures.livejournal.com

The artifact has made another sweep of the third planet of this system. The new data gathered take some time to be processed--a very brief time, as humans mark it--and once the results have been run ... well, there is only one path that can be taken.

Four chords sound as its colors and facets shift:

F Am Bb Am

Really, it's quite an honor. Hopefully the inhabitants of this third world will come to understand that.

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 science, magic, sorcery, wizardry, or that granted by divine blessing. Many races, many traditions, but all united in the wish to preserve their universes.

faceless-freak.livejournal.com

What was the point of it, he still wonders. The dreams, being "invited", being shown and forced again to Listen and See? He wondered, of course, he always wonders. He always questions it, his purpose, his very being.

No answers are found, of course.

Not that it matters now.

Gotham is a lot like Hub City, only with more characters and remembered faces; Hub is a mass of mobs and simple rabid insanity rather than of the creative kind, breaking down and forever broken, no doubt. The Question has left and returned Hub several times.

He's let it go again.

He could probably say it's because there's no one to look out for Gotham right now, what with some necessary capes and cowls missing to provide the protection. Truthfully, he might be looking for an excuse to try to put Hub behind him all over again.

He still doesn't know if that's a good choice.

The Question curls his fingers into the Bat Signal's design, tearing off the plastic that creates the shape into the dark clouds.

"Where does a bat sleep when it's day, and where does it go when it's night?" he mumbles to himself, shaking a spray paint can.

And he sprays the paint.

?

Into the sky.

The Question mutters as he looks down at the city below.

"I See you."

shiva-wusan.livejournal.com

Shiva sits in her dojo.

She is calm.

She is peaceful.

Except that beneath it there are questions. There is a small level of uncertainty.

Dragon and Tiger.

It is always true that they balance her - though it isn't always obvious as to the ways.

mari-grayson.livejournal.com

It has been some time since Croutex first tried to take Destruction's power as its own. As humans count the days, it has been over 2 years since Nightstar, Starfire, and Nightwing challenged the Endless-manqué to a duel in the Dreaming, ending at last in Destruction's intervention, though not his re-ascendance of his throne. Over 2 years since Dr. Fate bid the heroes of his universe to dream, and rebuild the order left tattered and torn by Croutex and its followers. To other races, especially the immortals, it has been only a moment ago.

There comes a time when the gathering is not quite so noisy. Nightstar flies above the heads of the attendees, landing before a draped painting. Judging by the size, the newest attendees may wonder if the hidden work is a lifesized portrait, but of who? Those who have attended this multiversal summit meeting before nod to themselves and each other in anticipation.

"Excuse me," Nightstar says politely, waiting until the attendees have focused their attention on her. "As before, my Lord Shaper is willing to let you all have glimpses in the dreams of those who dwell in the multiverse. I'm afraid you still won't be allowed to make any requests, and the glimpses may not last very long. I can't promise that you'll see anything useful, but just in case ... please pay attention?"

With that, she pulls the veil aside, revealing that the frame is, at first glance, empty.

And then the frame fills with images....

jla-extras.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.

oracle-watching.livejournal.com

"Oracle to all JLA, JSA, Titans, Outsiders, and allied groups ... we have reports of the space cockroaches--" she can't believe she just said space cockroaches with a straight face "--heading through the atmosphere to Earth. Please report any sightings ASAP. Oracle out."

shiva-wusan.livejournal.com

Shiva is sitting in an upscale restaurant. She is dressed to kill. Technically, she is always dressed to kill but this evening she is wearing a black cheongsam with moderate heels. There might even be a trace of make-up on her face. Maybe. Just a little.

She has been sitting her calmly, waiting for Vic to show up, however he wants to show up. She puts no requirements on him, though it might be a bit difficult to eat with no mouth. There have been a few people who have attempted to approach her. Even the wait staff has come to realize that she wants nothing to do with any of them at the moment.

She is waiting for her companion. There is no nervousness. No uncertainty. There is only calm waiting.

uncommon-sensei.livejournal.com

Amidst all the holiday festivities, Richard Dragon makes time to stop by the home of Vic Sage, AKA the Question, to leave behind a small token of remembrance of the probable anniversary of his birth. A selection of Eastern herbs and incenses, and a small note - Happy Birthday ? - Richard

shiva-wusan.livejournal.com

Sitting in a sparse room, Shiva meditates.

Dragon has come back. It is not entirely suprising that this is so. Some part of her feels that when he dies, when she dies, it will be in the same moment. It might well be fanciful thinking on her part but they are too connected for her to think about it in any other way. There is something about a death like that which feels almost satisfying, whether fighting against him or with him against another.

Introducing him to Canary will be difficult. It will mean either admitting how much she wishes to train Canary or having to let her go. He, of course, will see it. Frustrating how that is. Frustrating how Sui Jerk Jai is.

It drifts away from her for the moment. It will be back later and Shiva will deal with it then.

Her thoughts turn to Vic. She has not seen him in some time and she hopes that he is well. She hopes that Dragon can help him as she cannot. She is unused to wanting to help anyone in this way. It is amusing that she truly cannot in this instance. It is not within her ability. And, of course, it is within Dragon's.

Sitting in the room, she continues to meditate, letting the thoughts drift through.

If Vic does not come and find her soon, she may have to go find him.

uncommon-sensei.livejournal.com

Just an hour ago, he'd disembarked from a train - a train that had carried him from his adopted Gotham home, to Hub City. A lot of similarities between the two - but Gotham was dark, and fearful. Hub City, on the other hand, was caked in layers of grime that even Gotham couldn't compete with.

Richard grins as he approaches the door of the apartment - it has the right sort of feeling to it. This must be the place.

He reaches up and knocks on the door.

Current Location: Hub City

faceless-freak.livejournal.com

In the world as one who wore a mask, drama and violence was the unfortunate norm. It was a miracle that most people who performed heroics -- with or without powers -- didn't go somewhat crazy.

Though typically the Question's sanity would always be wondered about -- and to a point to some, he would admit to some of his own disturbances -- the faceless man at the moment was silently asking himself the level of a friend's mentality.

The Question's been wondering. What the hell is Ted doing lately? Moments of just up and disappearing -- it concerns him greatly.

So he's prepared to follow him this time, and keep himself from being seen.

shiva-wusan.livejournal.com

Waking up is hard after a sleep like that.

Shiva fought to stay awake for as long as she could manage and even then she didn't give in to sleep right away.

She found somewhere safe to sleep and then she let herself fall into unconciousness.

Waking up is hard to do after all of that. There is a small frown on her face as she rubs at her eyes trying to pull herself together.

She needs to find Ibn. She needs to find him soon.

faceless-freak.livejournal.com

It had been weeks. No sight, no sound, no way to find her. In all kinds of views, he could not find Shiva, and it disturbed him greatly. What now kept her at bay?

Though tracking and finding by himself was usually preferred, it was frustrating to attempt to locate someone like Shiva -- who WOULDN'T normally want to be found. This was not something he could do on his own.

Much as he hated to admit to it.

It was late at night, and most people should be asleep -- though someone like the Question preferred to pretend that sleep was never a requirement.

And at this hour, after much work, he managed to find the signal he was looking for.

The Question sounded very unhappy as he called for the legendary Oracle.

"Need help. Right now."

A pause. Very long.

Exasperated, he added, minding his manners: "Please."

shiva-wusan.livejournal.com

Shiva figures that this is as much of a reason to celebrate as anything else. Not that she's really into celebrating but she is attempting to find reasons to be closer to normal.

The concept that she is attempting to be normal with Vic as being impossible, does not occur to her in anyway.

She has brought a some things back to the apartment where Vic is and has placed them on the table. It is too late for Christmas but she has never really been one for it. It is still Channukah, if she needs a reason for giving. There are a few things she knows about Vic and there are other things she has intuited.

Some part of her rebels against this. Some part of her cannot help not being able to grasp this situation she is in with Vic. This much prolonged contact with someone has turned things around inside of her head. Still, there is a New Year's baloon floating over the table, along with a bakery box.

shiva-wusan.livejournal.com

Shiva has been sitting where Vic asked her to stay and wait for him. It isn't that she hasn't moved. There have been things she needed to accomplish but she's done the best she could to be where he asked her to be for as much time as she could manage. Currently there is a hot pot of tea istting in front of her but Shiva herself, seems to be meditating. Or possibly she is sleeping in that position. She's probably slept in less comfortable places and ways.

She is here. It is a strange thing to have done this. It is good that she has not had anything terribly pressing over this time.

faceless-freak.livejournal.com

It was desperate. Traditional information seeking wasn't leading him anywhere; searching the underworld, looking through files, inquiring the hospital staff.

Nothing. Nothing at all on Tot's whereabouts, except that he was very, very dead.

Had he, again, gone delusional? It wouldn't have been the first time he hallucinated something.

Peeling off his mask and stuffing it without care into his coat, he fell to his knees tiredly in front of one of the graves, pressing his forehead against the freezing cold of the headstone.

"Tell me, my city. My rotting hub, city of ruin, city of despair -- tell me, Hub."

He braced himself against the stone, shivering cold fingers clinging on obsessively.

"Tell me. Please. Is there life in him? What was buried instead? Where is he? Tell me."

Utter silence.

Vic gritted his teeth.

"Tell me!!"

Not a whisper from the city to urban shaman.

Current Mood: melancholy

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JLA Watchtower (Archive)

Entries tagged with question

Watch your feet

The ticking of cogs in a larger machine

Elsewhere..

Where it spins out, where it spins in

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

GOTHAM - evening

Meditation

Ἀποκάλυψις - The Lifting of the Veil

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

There goes the neighborhood

Dinner with a Question

A Questionable Gift

Meditating

Dateline : Hub City

Mad Sciences or Mad Men?

Groggy mornings...

to track a lady

It is a new year.

It has been a long wait.

cemetary, hub city

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November 2016

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