Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by DJAtomika
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G R E E N L A N T E R N


"My word..."

Aken held his breath as the squad entered the main laboratory complex, Nova just in front of him. He kept his distance and watched as Perseus and Green Arrow tore through the enemy ranks in perfect sync, keeping an alarm from sounding as they headed down into the depths of the building. What he saw ahead of him, he hadn't seen before, and frankly he didn't want to see such things ever again. Rows upon rows of cells, people being tortured and killed indiscriminately, all in the name of some misbegotten "science", if it could even be called that. But, as it turned out, fate and stealth were not going to be on their side any longer. As Bloodsport broke free of Perseus' grip and yelled for help, Aken instinctively brought up a big green shield that encircled those immediately around him, saving some of the Peacekeepers from the hail of gunfire that followed. In front of him, Perseus took the lead as he shielded a few of their allies from bullets and fought off a giant, musclebound soldier that had leaped up to their balcony in one hop, taking off his head with his knife as he battled furiously.

Without pause, Aken let his ring reach full glow and very briefly let down his shield, only to project a bigger one that encompassed the main group of Peacekeepers behind him. He glanced behind him, wincing slightly as one of the bigger, empowered brutes thumped his fists uselessly against his shield, and gestured with his free hand at the soldiers.

"Move downstairs! Follow Perseus and get those civilians free! I have you covered!"

Saying that, he poured his strength into maintaining the shield, free hand gripping the wrist of his ring hand as he slowly pushed his way forwards. The brute pounding on the shield made him stumble, testing his will with every step, but Aken gritted his teeth and persevered, pouring every ounce of energy he had into maintaining the barrier. Then, as the big grunt reared back for another strike, Aken let his shield fall and instead conjured a fabric construct that caught the brute as he charged forward, Using his forward momentum, Aken used all his strength to spin the cloth sack around in a circle and weaponised it like a sling, throwing the brute off the balcony with a grunt and a yell. One of the Peacekeepers behind him tapped him on the shoulder.

"Lantern! Our guys downstairs need your help too! Go! We got things under control up here."

The Lantern nodded his thanks, shielded himself and charged forward. One of the enemies wearing an exo-suit was near the front of the balcony, shrugging off small arms fire from the Peacekeepers as it strode forward and tossed one of them off the ledge. As the exo-suit soldier lifted another Peacekeeper up by the head and crushed his skull in his hand, Aken flew forward and barreled into his side, clad in armour made of light, using his strength to push this soldier off the balcony and into the fray below. Aken let out a bellow as he flew straight downwards, the exo-suit struggling against his light until they slammed into the concrete down below. The metal twisted and deformed as the Lantern pummeled the soldier into the ground, fists wrapped in green light pounding into his chest until the metal of his exo-suit was deformed and non-functioning and the soldier was buried in a crater, unmoving. He threw up his personal shield again and ducked behind a pillar, trying to get a sense of the situation on the ground before he moved on.

Perseus was in the thick of it, battling through soldiers and keeping the front line away from the trapped civilians. The main group of Peacekeepers was also present, maintaining a steady line of fire that stalled the enemy's advance. He leaned out of cover and fired a burst of light at a soldier trying to blindside Perseus and ducked back into cover, avoiding a burst of assault rifle fire. Then he charged forward, right into where the bulk of the civilian's cages were, and raised his arm.

"You will not harm another! By Green Lantern's light!"

A bright green shield burst from his ring and covered all the cages he could, simultaneously protecting them and keeping them contained safely. With his focus firmly on maintaining his shield, he watched the other Leaguers battle to keep them safe.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by MrDidact
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MrDidact The Watcher on the Wall

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"'Rules of Engagement in Proximity of Civilians: avoid engaging with force if at all possible, use only powers that can be applied without collateral damage, do not escalate, stop any escalation, and neutralize risks to civilians as quickly as possible.' That's in the handbook, but if you ask me, those should be more guidelines than rules. Villains don't play by a handbook, whereas we hamstring ourselves and do them a favor every time there's a fight with civvies nearby. And any time there's a fight between capes and cowls, there's almost always civvies nearby. I've seen good Leaguers get hurt or worse because they can't use all the tools at their disposal to put down a threat. Truth is, we're fighting a war. And fighting a war means defeating the enemy. And if that means a little collateral damage, so be it. We need to start thinking more like soldiers and less like boy scouts." - Anonymous Leaguer speculated to be Magog, excerpt from Iris West's Born in the Cape: The New Breed of Hero

ARGONAUT

Bangkok, Thailand

January 2st, 2052 | 12:10am | Government House of Thailand


The armored battalion guarding the parliament building was now only so much scrap metal and viscera. Argonaut surveyed the carnage, scanning for any possible threats. One foolishly brave man ran out with an assault rifle, empty of any ammunition, wielding it like a club. The sight was so ludicrous that Argonaut laughed out loud, his voice booming through the warsuit's speakers in a deep, metallic chuckle as he grabbed the man's head. He kept laughing as he melted the Thai soldier's face with his solar projector, chuckling as the man screamed and wailed, flesh and blood running down his blackened skull like candle wax. Eventually he stopped screaming and Argonaut crushed the skull into ash. Argonaut shook his head, letting his suit's onboard cleanser wipe the tears from his eyes, "Someone make a note of that man's bravery."

Argonaut turned his attention back to the parliament building, scanning the structure and seeing several different markers on the scope. Cheshire's team, Gunsmith and his squad, and Vortex. Argonaut ground his teeth on seeing that that rube had broken through. Argonaut would be damned if he handed that simpleton anymore money than he actually deserved. It seemed as if Cheshire had taken down most of the defenses, and any remaining resistance was primarily focused on Vortex. The rebels could take it from here. He'd leave the burning and pillaging to the villagers. He had a king to kill.

Argonaut rocketed to the Parliament building, raising Sin Tzu on the comms as he did, "My Legionnaires have infiltrated Parliament. We'll have the Regent's head on a spike within minutes." The light accented, but cultured tone of Sin Tzu filtered back, "Excellent. The government most likely evacuated the boy king when the violence started. And the throne is empty. The palace's defenses are holding stubbornly for the moment. But once the Regent falls, all resistance will crumble. And Thailand will be mine. Sin Tzu out."

Just then another voice chimed in his ears. The soft silky tone of Lexos filtered through the helmet's speakers, "Argonaut. Our spy satellites were tracking Intergang's movements through the campaign area. They have not joined the assaults on any of the major cities. Instead they're assaulting one of the poppy fields in Tak Province, one of the largest in the Golden Triangle."

"Does Sin Tzu know? Does China White?" The China White Triad had worked out a deal with Sin Tzu to host one of their narcotic production operations in his demesnes. With those fields and the ports under their control, they could control more of the distribution of Metadrugs throughout the Pacific. Venom and Miralco were good products and good army builders, but KT-28 or Katie, was one of the more popular drugs on the street since the markets in heroin and crack cocaine had waned. The synth drug didn't bestow any special abilities on users, but it did reduce inhibitions and increase aggressive behavior. Acting out on one's basest desires induced a potent euphoria, literally encouraging as much debasement and depravity as possible. China White had intended to flood Asia with Katie and make millions upon millions. But it seemed that Angela Manheim had other plans.

"Negative. There has been no communication from either Sin Tzu's or China White's lines to Intergang."

"That addict wants her own personal supply. Well I'm not dealing with that know. Let Sin Tzu and China White take their concerns to the Council once this is done. Ms. Barbie is on her own. Maybe we'll get lucky and there will be an open spot in the Legion once this is done."

Argonaut disconnected from Lexos, sighed. For all his strategic brilliance, Sin Tzu was rather narrow-minded. He had made an army out of a ragtag group of rebels. But all he wanted was the rulership of a third-world nation, a crown he thought was rightfully his. He had no true vision. Neither did China White, who was focused on profit and dominance in the criminal underworld and nothing else. And Angela Mannheim most certainly did not have vision. Using all her advanced technology to engage in petty rackets. Advancing a puerile religion to the point of fanaticism. No, these criminals may have been dangerous, useful even, but they lacked true perspective. That was why they needed the Luthors. The rabble needed vision.

Argonaut streaked in to the Parliament building, blasting through a wall and several defenders with his solar cannon and casually working his way to the elevator. With the defenses down, it was even more childishly easy than it would have been otherwise. After a few minutes, Argonaut was at the elevator with Gunsmith's and Chesire's teams. He nodded to both of them. They were tools, but competent and professional. He could work with them, "Good work. Our compatriots have the army busy. Sin Tzu has the royal palace under siege. It's time to finish the job."

Argonaut's sensors bleeped frantically, there was a subtle crackle in the atmosphere, his hairs stood on end, and within a blink of an eye a blue armored figure stood in their midst. The armor seemed skin-tight, showing off the musculature of an Olympic sprinter, with silver lightning bolts accented throughout. They would have resembled any archetypal speedster were it not for the metallic horns in place of lightning bolts for pinions, or for the silver visor etched with a grinning demonic face in place of the usual half-mask. Or the splashes of blood painting the armor throughout. Argonaut dipped his head, "Johnny Quick. A pleasure to have you with us."

The infamous killer shook his head, "I left the hero life long ago, Argonaut. It's Speed Demon now. Don't forget it. Or I'll have to leave you an unpleasant reminder. Well, unpleasant for you at any rate."

Argonaut smirked, hidden by his own helmet, glad his provocation hit the mark, "Duly noted. But you'll get your fair share of blood, Allen. The Junta will make a last push to rescue their General. I need you to clear out the building of threats and cover our six. You'll be our backup if we meet heavier resistance down in the bunker."

Speed Demon tilted his head, crossed his arms, "I could kill you quicker than you could blink and you put me on babysitting duty? I should just get in there and take out that general myself."

Argonaut arched his brow, though the other man couldn't see, and said, "You could. But this isn't your operation. It's mine. You do what I say. If you disagree, run back to the Fortress and complain. Shouldn't take too long for you. Or you can cover our rear and get your chance to slaughter scores. Besides, we don't know if they have any anti-speedster countermeasures down there and you can do a job that would otherwise take a whole battalion. I'd say you're singularly suited to the job."

The metahuman stared him down for a long moment. Argonaut didn't break his gaze. Finally he chuckled, "You have some brass balls, Luthor. I'll give you that. Fine. I'll cover your asses. And I'll pull you from the fire when you get in trouble."

Argonaut nodded, gestured to the others and boarded the elevator, easily hacking into the "secure" panel and sending them on their descent. Vortex might catch up if he was able, but Argonaut was definitely not waiting. The elevator was enough to hold the entire group and then some, and the journey was swift. Soon the Legionaries found themselves in a narrow hallway leading to a strong steel door.

Turrets would surely have popped down to fill the hall with lead, but Cheshire had already deactivated automated security. All that was left were some riflemen. They fell easily. The door took slightly longer, but within moments they had breached the General's safe room. They encountered a large spacious chamber with various monitors displaying strategic and tactical information. Scores of armed guards and aides were in evidence, along with a spattering of lesser dignitaries and officers. General Nibun Jivacate, a middle-aged man with a strong build, was barking orders with a slightly panicked tone.

A column of men appeared with grenade launchers and light machine guns and began firing. Argonaut stood his ground and let the salvo wash over his energy barriers. His shields were half-drained, but none of it had even touched the armor. As the men paused to reload, Argonaut strafed them with a solar beam, bisecting many and shearing off limbs. There was a shout and an abnormally large man in military fatigues leaped over the various desks at Argonaut. A metahuman strongman no doubt. Argonaut rocketed to meet him in the air and caught him in the stomach, slamming the meta into the nearby wall.

As the two clashed, more guards arrived, getting into position to fire. These men were better equipped, all of them wearing personal combat exo-skeletons that enhanced their strength and agility. Some of them touted miniguns and flamethrowers. Next to the general, a half-dozen lightly armored warriors leapt onto the consoles near him and drew mono-molecular swords. The League of Shadows had trained countless acrobatic ninja-like killers over the years, and not all of their disciples had remained loyal to their utopian ideals. It was clear that these were heretics from the order of a more mercenary bent than their former compatriots. Four of them shimmered out of view, tactical cloaking concealing them from view as they doubtlessly made their way to engage the Legion. The the final two began ushering the General further to the rear of the chamber. More and more guards began pouring in, lowly technicians and aides even drawing sidearms to defend their leader as another meta came into view. The woman's mouth opened wide, and she breathed in deeply, obviously preparing to let loose some fiery breath or sonic screech at the Legion. This was the Junta's last desperate gasp. And the Legion needed to break them.

PERSEUS

Chihuahuan Desert, Mexico

January 1st, 2052 | 5:50pm | Miralco Lab


Perseus wrenched his spear from the heart of another Venom soldier, as Therma and Toxin both fell in beside him. Before he could say anything in response, there was a mighty explosion. With all the fire that Therma had been expending, one of the Venom vats exploded in a volatile chemical geyser that engulfed some of the Legion soldiers. They screamed as their skin sloughed off their flesh as if they were hit by acid. The explosion ignited even more vats, Miralco and Venom alike, and the cascade of ignitions turned the lab into a riot of electrical fires as expensive monitoring equipment caught aflame and bullets still raced through the air.

With panicked civilians caught in the crossfire. Free from the confines of their cages but thrust into a battle, most of the civilians panicked. Some ran run into hail of bullets while fleeing the fires, or were blown through the air by an explosion they didn't see coming. Many more huddled in fear as the fires spread, along with those left still in cages watching the incoming inferno press toward them. There were more than a hundred innocents now in mortal danger. Alongside them, the scientists and lab technicians also suffered much the same, some of them vainly trying to put out the fires while most either died in the chaos or scrambled for escape.

One unstable meta released by Toxin clutched at their eyes, screaming as lasers spilled from their gaze and lanced through the room, only adding to the utter chaos. The Peacekeepers had to cease firing so as not to accidentally hit the civilians in their sights. By now all the Venom soldiers were dead or crippled too much for even their drug to keep them moving. Half of the riflemen had been wiped out, or were now scrambling to escape the blaze. Green Lantern quickly took down one of the exo-suits, overpowering it with his ring while Green Arrow bounced an electric arrow off of a wall and hit the man's partner in the achilles heel, immobilizing the other suit.

Robert began pulling out foam arrows, firing them rapidly into the flames, "Al. It's getting a bit crispy in here for my tastes." Smoke started filling the room, obscuring most of the battle and making it difficult to breath. Perseus' helmet filtered it all out, his visor allowing him to cut through the miasma. But the others might not be so lucky.

Perseus was about to respond as his alarms flashed wildly and another uninvited metahuman materialized. The Peacekeeper squad had reported a speed force anomaly approaching, and it seemed this one was bloodied from helping put down several guards. Perseus had no idea who this person was and no patience for yet another unwanted interloper, as helpful as they may be.

Children. I am surrounded by costumed children.

Perseus glared at Therma, "It appears you did get a little carried away. But we'll discuss this later. Now we have civilians to save. Toxin, knock out the rampant metas and collect them for evacuation. Peacekeepers, start shepherding civilians out of here. Therma, keep a lid on these fires. Speedster, you stay right here and-"

The radio cut in as one of the sentries he had left behind shouted over automatic fire, "Sir, the Federal Police are shooting at us! 20+ hostiles. They got us pinned down and surrounded. I have two men down. They've got turrets, exfil through this egress is currently a no-go! I hear more gun trucks incoming, VTOLs! Our comms are being jammed! Javelin can't hear us!"

Perseus cursed. He knew he shouldn't have clued in the Mexican officials. The government was rotten to the core, and the Legion had hands everywhere. No doubt their informants in the Federales had tipped them off to the JLU raid. They didn't have enough advance warning to scrub their operations, Perseus had only told the Mexicans at the last possible moment. But they certainly had time to prepare. The Federal Police couldn't have tech to dampen the JLU's comms. It was clear the Legion was also responsible for that. The question was why the team hadn't met stiff resistance until now. They could have ambushed them early on. What else were they planning? What was the purpose of this trap? Perseus couldn't think about that now. He'd sort that out later when they weren't all in danger of burning to death.

Perseus grabbed the Speedster by the collar, "You! Get out there and secure my evac. Take out those corrupt cops and start evacuating civilians once you're done. Move it! Sergeant, you dig in and hold the line! Detonate those mines and reactivate those mechs on our side! I'm sending you help. Put out a flare for the Javelin!" Perseus watched as Vigilante clashed with Bloodsport. The Legionary had dumped his overheated rifle, pulled out a machete and a pair of steel knuckles, and lashed out savagely and ruthlessly at the Leaguer with everything he had. The Legionary was ex-black ops, trained to kill, and was now doing his very best to end Vigilante, seemingly heedless of the fires. He slashed and stabbed and punched and kicked at the Leaguer, and the pair traded blows and dodged as the lab kept burning around them.

And as Perseus watched, one of the scientists peeled off, deliberately heading over to a secluded corner and tapping his hand against a scanner. A hidden door opened and Perseus' visor caught a quick scan of his face. Roland Desmond. Blockbuster. He could turn into a mutant strongman but also possessed a genius intelligence. It made sense that the Legion would send him here in their experiments with metadrugs and the metagene. And that he had an escape tunnel.

No doubt that Federal Police were meant to cover his escape while he bolted with all the intel that Perseus needed. Desmond disappeared into the tunnel as hidden compartments in the wall opened. Bipedal mechs with machine guns in place of hands marched out, firing indiscriminately at foe and ally alike, adding even more to the calamity. The mechs weren't very tough. Any soldier worth his salt was worth ten of them. But there were many and they paid no heed to the danger. Mindlessly shooting as they advanced. Blockbuster intended to use the chaos to make a getaway. To hell with that.

"Vig! Finish up with that blowhard! I need him alive!" Perseus looked at GL. At Nova. He still didn't completely trust her, but he had little choice. He needed backup if he wanted to face Blockbuster but GL was much more useful in evacuating the civilians and protecting them from the enemies that still remained.

"GL, evacuate civvies and cover the escape! Elevator will be too slow. I need to lift everyone up above when you get to the shaft. Vortex, with me! We're going after that bastard."

Perseus ran into the fire, shield activated to deflect the mech's automatic fire from him as he slashed and stabbed his way through the metallic throng to Blockbuster's tunnel. He trusted in his team to get the civilians to safety. But he would be damned if he'd let Desmond get away. Without even looking to see if Nova had followed, Perseus plunged into the darkness of the spacious tunnel and ran after the mad scientist.

Desmond may have been a genius, but he couldn't outrun Perseus in human form. The Leaguer saw the scientist, sprinting for a hoverbike waiting nearby. Perseus, without breaking stride, let loose his spear and lanced it through the hoverbike's propulsion system. Then he dove at Desmond and caught him in a tackle. Perseus wrapped his fingers around Desmond's neck, pressing on his throat to choke him out when suddenly a bullet whizzed by Perseus' ear. Perseus threw up his shield as two mechs advanced with guns raised. Perseus threw out his shield, chopping off one of their heads, then followed up with a knife that stabbed through the other's CPU. In the tussle, his grip had lightened around Desmond's neck.

Suddenly, Desmond flailed beneath him and Perseus jumped off, as Blockbuster now laid where Desmond had been. The scientist had grown to over eight feet tall and was built like a tank. Perseus dodged under one of Blockbuster's inhumanly large fists, and took out two more knives. Perseus stared down his enemy, who was blocking him from retrieving his shield and spear. Blockbuster roared, the sound deafening in the tunnel and he punched out. Perseus side-stepped the blow and slashed his knife along Blockbuster's wrist. A thin cut appeared in the thick skin and Blockbuster wailed in annoyance more than pain. Perseus would have to keep at the thousand cuts strategy for now. If he didn't care about gaining intel, Perseus could have stabbed Blockbuster in the eye and have done with it. But he needed the scientist alive to relate whatever information he had. But he had neither of his main weapons and minimal backup to do it.

If backup arrived, and Nova wasn't going to take this chance to kill him. Well, there was no helping that now. Perseus had been in bigger messes. He always figured it out eventually. Perseus dodged another punch, but was was backhanded by the fist, shoving him into the wall of the tunnel. Blockbuster roared and advanced.

Perseus knew he had been in worse situations, but he couldn't quite come up with any other examples at the moment.

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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Freeshooter92
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Freeshooter92 Wasteland Scourge

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V O R T E X

Bangkok, Thailand

January 2nd, 2052 | 12:07am | Streets


There was a sickening crunch as rebar met spine, Vortex's improvised weapon coupled with his mechanized strength snapping a poor fighter's spine and flooring him. He didn't pay it much thought as the body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes. This guy barely stood a chance, and he was hardly whimpering or anything, just gritting his teeth and gasping for breath. Vortex sighed, planting the rebar through the man's skull and into the concrete. The kill was already forgotten as he took a moment to look over the target. The building was rather well fortified, he could see gun emplacements, some metahuman troopers, an automated turret or two... It wouldn't be enough. Hell, it wouldn't be enough to stop him alone, to say nothing of the various other assholes they brought along, not to mention Little Luthor.

"Now... How are we gonna get in?" He asked himself. He had at least a hundred ways to get past such... pitfully mundane defenses. He could probably do it in his sleep, honestly. No, what would be the most fun way to kick down the door. The sight of a helicopter nearby gave him an idea, and he looked around the nest of goons he'd just taken down for any... toys. "Ooooh, what have we here..." He muttered to himself, tugging a corpse off of a munitions crate, bisected vertically... that one wasn't him, funny enough. They had a Meta with them, and she wasn't especially accurate with that energy blade thing she could do. He popped the crate open, and a wicked grin spread from ear to ear as he eyed the launcher in the case. He wasn't familiar with the exact model, but it looked awfully new. He tugged it out of the case along with a rocket, gingerly slotting it into the tube as he took aim at the chopper, a holographic display coming over his eyes. "Nighty night..." He muttered, squeezing the trigger as the rocket spiraled off towards its quarry.

He smirked as he dropped the weapon, clicking his tongue and following the rocket's trajectory with a talon... until he mimed a little explosion with his hand once it slammed into the hapless aircraft. "Boosh..." He muttered with a little chuckle, that soon became a full blown cackle as he watched the machine spin out and crash into one of the compound's walls, knocking it down. "Ooooh, fuck, that was amaz... Hang on." He suddenly quieted down, tapping his chin. "I... think that was one of our choppers, actually." He said to nobody in particular, musing over it for a fraction of a second before shrugging. "...Eh, occupational hazard. Their pay wouldn't be so high if we thought they'd live." He said with a sage little nod, stepping off the roof... And walking along thin air, his feet glowing with the Void Reactor's power with every step.

Now to get in. With his rifle he picked off goon after goon, a beam of searing purple cracking out from the weapon, turning whatever flesh and soft matter it touched to dust. It was quite a horrific sight, seeing half of your comrade's head dissolve into a sandy, ashy substance, along with the brain almost flopping free of the skull, but not quite. Vortex had learned a long time ago that it was funnier when you got your headshot a little off-center, too close to the middle and the whole head would be dust, but clip them by the ear and you only get half, makes them die a lot slower. Naturally by the sixth time they wised up, snipers trying to get a bead on the incredible hovering sociopath, only for him to disappear. By the time they found him standing off the side of a house he'd already partially domed a few more of them, but he would be gone again. This would repeat, and Vortex would be a little closer each time they found him, until whoever was in charge of the rooftop forces was all that was left. Well, he was probably in charge, he was yelling and he wore a beret, not that Craig could understand him.

The apparent commander (probably a lieutenant of some sort) lost track of him, and given that he was the only one left he naturally started to panic a little, hyperventilating, looking around this way and that, ducking behind cover so that the scary robot man couldn't tear away half of his head with that rifle of his... He actually began to cry a little, drawing his side arm and looking toward the ground while he muttered a prayer... And then he heard a dull thrum, and when he looked up... "Huh. I like your hat." Vortex mused, kneeling down and snatching the man's pistol from his hands. He began to babble and sob, and while Vortex couldn't tell what he was saying, it was pretty clear he was begging for his life. "Hrm, tell you what. You're screwed." He said, gently lifting the charcoal beret off of his head, and putting it on. "You ain't getting out of here alive. That's not really up to me." He said, gesturing out toward the city. Or, well. what was left of it. Even if he spared this guy some other legionnaire would probably paste him. "But this is a cool hat, soooo... I'm gonna kill ya quick." He said, actually keeping his word against all odds as he kills the man with a few mundane pistol shots to the head.

He chuckled to himself, tossing the little toy aside as he brought up a little holographic, mirror-like display, admiring his new trophy with a sly smile. He had to keep himself occupied while he recharged, after all. The theatrics had started to put a drain on him. More shouting could be heard as Vortex rolled his eyes, queuing up another song through his augments as he prepared to engage the reinforcements that were no doubt coming. "Guess I oughta give Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch their little distraction. Lovers of the dark, step into light..." He muttered the opening lyrics to the song once they kicked in, settling on humming along once the reinforcements arrived. Frankly, they bored him a little. He even made it a little easier for the goons that poured onto the roof from the stairs, only firing his autopistols in time to the music, directing them like some kind of demented conductor.

It didn't matter, body after partially disintegrated body fell before him as kicked off into the air, stepping onto a wall that wasn't there as he walked down the non-existent surface, looking up through a window and teleporting inside. The soldiers inside fared no better. It was his specialty, tearing through the unprepared like an acetylene torch through butter. What could you do against someone that could teleport and make physics his bitch when all you had was some kinda 5.56 plinker? Not a lot. He went in hard, and he went in loud, very loud. Even if the Junta were aware of other inflitrators, they could not afford to ignore Vortex's carnage. Bodies practically clogged the halls as he just kept killing and killing, smirking as he observed them. They were beginning to crack. They resorted to blind fire more and more, their formations were less disciplined, more desperate. Occasionally he saw one break into a run, and at least one hurled himself out of the fifth floor window just because he thought gravity would be a less sadistic executioner.

He... realized he might be having a bit too much fun when he remembered the objective. "Ahhhhh, fuck. Where's that Elevator." He muttered, his augments showing him a path as he sprinted on through the building, occasionally offing a straggler. He found the elevator, but by that point he saw the Little Luthor That Could board it without him, and some... blue guy. He didn't recognize him, he didn't care. "Step aside, smurf." He said, shoving past the speedster and using his gun to blow a small hole through the elevator doors, enough to let him see through so he could teleport inside. Which he did. He scowled as he watched the elevator descend, a bit too fast to give him enough time to cut through the roof and drop in with the rest of the gang, so he just ran down the wall...

And it was just when the battle broke out that Argonaut, Gunsmith, and Cheshire would here his voice. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be over comms. "Starting without me?!" He roared, coming up from behind Argonaut and teleporting to the center of the room. To their credit, these goons weren't like the other poorly-trained jack-offs outside, they had enough discipline to draw a bead on him almost as soon as he appeared, which only gave him enough time to fire a burst into one goon before he was gone, a storm of leaden death filling the air where he once stood. From the ceiling he smirked. He'd let the others do the head to head fighting, he had a bonus to claim. The others were... bound to the physical plane. They had to obey the constraints of... space and physical law. Vortex was not so... burdened as they. Were he not here, those Ninjas dragging the General to the back would be making the right call, but... he was. He could see into the General's room, so he could be there. And he was. Once he appeared, he leveled his weapons at the two guards and gave them each a full magazine. He didn't know how capable they were or how many of his void-powered blasts it would take, so he just let them have it. No quips, no shouting, no extra noise.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Mistress Dizzy
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Mistress Dizzy Fandom Auntie Dizzy

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O R I G A M I

Bangkok, Thailand

January 1st, 2052 | 12:15 AM | Government Office

Two months.

Two months of plotting, planning and bribing. Glad handing, working on the language, hacking her way into the employee roster. 2 months of late nights, posing as cleaning crew, cracking as many passwords and desk locks as she could. Two months of memorizing top secret documents – it was a pleasant surprise how much paper there was to go around this place. To think, an organization of this magnitude, still typing and redacting like a bad 50’s pulp novel.

Two months, all for one night.

Christmas was spent alone as usual, taking a day for herself to eat and train. She was starting to get a feeling for this place, and she would kind of miss it. It was a busy, beautiful, cramped and grungy city, just the way she liked them. On the day of the attack, she enjoyed one last traditional breakfast, packed her sliver of an apartment, and made sure her ready bag was prepped. Her suit was hidden in her briefcase, her sword tucked away in a poster tube. The man she was paying to pass security every day leered at her chest again. She would enjoy killing him personally, later.

When the shooting started, she panicked right along with the rest of the team. Acting was easy when everyone around you was losing their minds as well. All she had to do was run with the flow of chaos. So what if she didn’t go screaming for the doors like everyone else? She ran toward the source of the chaos, knowing her allies would be behind it. And despite all the screaming, blood and panic, she smiled.

“Happy New Year.”

After personally strangling the skeevy security guard with a lariat of toilet paper, Kijani got to work. She could hear the reports from Sin Tzu through her feed as the others got closer and closer to the objective. A bonus really wasn’t for her taking – there were bigger players in this game than she. Sometimes it was better to be a middle-man. Still, she should probably go and help. 5 minutes found her the elevator and up she went. There was a group rather courageously facing down Argonaut and a squad, all suits and ties and dinky guns. Fools. Loyalty that deep was just stupid. But, still in her work suit, she played the game, valiantly defending the general. That, and shooting the other office workers in the back “accidentally”.

There was one surprise. They had some metahuman on their squad, a woman, who seemed a little more ready than others. She felt the room temperature dip as the woman opened her mouth. Ice, probably. However, that was as far as she got, as Kijani quickly and silently emptied the rest of her clip into the woman’s head. There was a sickening squish and thud when she hit the ground. Another one for the 4 AM nightmare bank!

Politely, Kijani bowed to Argonaut and the rest of the Legionaires, then started picking up what was left of the weapons on the ground. “I almost missed the fun.”

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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Afro Samurai
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Afro Samurai Like a Raisin in the Sun

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M A H A R A

S H I R U T A, K H A N D A Q

January 1st, 2052 | 0510 Hours | Shiruta, Kahndaq, Egypt, Africa


Mahara left her helm in her room, and followed the trail of the young girl toward the general area of her father’s throne room. Each step there felt heavier than the last, but that was just the armor and the fatigue. Through the curtains the sun caught her face, it only highlighted the sloppy strands her black hair sat in and the practiced look of deference she needed to apply when speaking to her father--when she rehearsed, it made it easier to hide the fear and the scowl that had found impression on her countenance.

The walk to the throne room was shorter than she remembered. All things were shorter when one had not slept, as if time itself had dislodged from linearity and moved in one ethereal, oblong shape. Around, and stretching, and then down where it hung for a while and raked Mahara’s nerve. She hated how time kept up such games; never moving fast enough for her to try again at resting, and always moving slow enough for her to count how little she had been able to accomplish on this quiet frontier of this cold war.

She had plans in case the Neo-Thanagarians sought outright invasion, a good general would. That was the least of what was required of her; she had not the slightest idea of what to do should the Neo-Thanagarians, say, infiltrate the Kahndaqi network of spies or cause some sort of insurrection. There was also the matter of her father’s seat on the council. He was a temperamental man, and would risk outright war for the smallest offense; it was good, at least for that reason, that Doctor Sivana was on the Council. It was better, for that very same reason, that Black Adam could defer the duties of ruling an entire kingdom--though Kahndaq itself was small in comparison to the other nations beneath the Legion--to his children and what ‘allies’ he had.

As she approached the outer doors which lead directly to the throne, she was greeted by two soldiers who were adorned in gold plated armor and long halberds which pulsed with unidentifiable energy. A nod of her head, they moved aside and the large ornate doors swung open. Mahara walked in, her ebon armor clanging with each step.

”Father, you have requested my presence?”

The royal herald, dressed in traditional Khandaqi robes, banged his staff and cried out, “The Princess Mahara, General of the Royal Army.”

King Teth-Adam, Black Adam, known as hero and conqueror, villain and liberator, savior and murderer, inclined his head, “I am not blind herald, I know who my daughter is.” Adam was a powerfully built man, with an ageless austere cast to his features and a hard steely gaze that declared his true nature. That of a warrior, before all else. He wore no elegant robes, no ostentatious crown. His kingly garment was a simple black vest and his crown was an unassuming golden band adorned with a lightning bolt. His throne was smooth black stone. By his side was his wife, the Queen Adrianna, beautiful and elegant and only slightly more rich in appearance than her husband.

The Queen, with her smooth olive skin, long black hair, and striking green eyes favored her eldest child with a smile. Mahara’s Kingly father was not so warm and only nodded at Mahara. His right hand was scarlet red, heartsblood still dripping to stain the throne he sat on. Directly in front of the throne was the dead man, a hole in his chest where his heart used to be. A washbasin stood next to Adam’s throne but he made no move to clean himself, instead gesturing to Mahara to stand before him next to the corpse.

“A traitor to our kingdom. This officer was going to defect to the Thanagarians. His head will be placed on a spike for all in Shiruta to see. They will see the price of treachery and sedition.”

Black Adam looked his daughter in the eye, “And as for you, my General, there must be a price for your failures. For five years, this war of shadows and lies has seen the Hawkmen strike at us in a thousand subtle ways. We are losing. It is clear that you are a warrior and not a sneak-thief. This is commendable and fitting for my eldest child. But your talents lie elsewhere.”

The King of Kahndaq gestured to waiting servants, who quickly and quietly pulled the body away, “Sivana tells me that with the assault on Thailand, this war is beginning to spill out from the shadows. We must take action, if we are to crush the Neo-Thanagarians and their allies, and secure Kahndaq’s safety. You will go to the Fortress of Doom and you will make yourself available as an operative to the Legion. You will help them in their fights. You will disguise your identity to deny any ties from Kahndaq to the Legion. And you will keep an eye on our so-called comrades, including Sivana, and report back to me all you see and hear.”

He paused for one weighty moment, “Do you understand?”

In the thralling throne room she felt no greater than an insect. Her feeling was true, for she was not. Unmitigated power graced the seat of the throne. Khem Adam, the most powerful tyrant the middle east and northern Africa had ever seen. Before him, Mahara felt weightless, when beckoned closer, her steps clinked with the shifting of the plated black armor. She stopped before the steps of the throne, not even she was permitted to touch them. She had half mind to bow to a knee, but she did not. Prostrating in front of her father was something she would not do, no matter how powerful he was.

A traitor’s head to be put on a spike, the heart of the traitor clutched in his father’s hand. A gruesome sight, but not one she had not seen before; she was numb to the violence. Still, watching mutilation of human bodies was something which kept her up at night, nevermind the nightmares and the paranoia.

Her own grey eyes--ones she had not inherited from either of her parents--rested upon the matriarch; she truly had gotten most of her looks from her mother (and thank goodness because her father was an ugly man), the smile her mother gave to her warmed her heart. The callous distance her father countered still that warmth for but a moment. As always, her father’s words sliced the deepest,

”A price for my failures? How have I failed? YOU--I have done--” and she caught herself. About the room she had glanced, first to the window--no purpose behind such a move, merely a buffer, something to stare at other than her father who sat mighty and earthed in front of her. Then her visage switched to her mother, the green in her own eyes suddenly lacking warmth. Adrianna could be as gelid--and even more--than her husband.

Mahara closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled to release tension,

”Very well. Where am I to be sent?” she cleaned her diction and scraped the laiase with which she spoke around peers and commoners when speaking to her father.

Adam, regarded his eldest with his coal-black eyes and replied, “The Fortress is hidden by powerful magic, in a land apart from ours. I will open the way.”

The King rose from his seat, floating from the throne to stand beside his daughter next to the emblem carved into the throne room floor in the shape of the House of Adam’s sigil, a black fist clenching a thunderbolt. Adam uttered one word, which came as both a whisper and a deafening shout, “SHAZAM!

Out of nowhere, a dark cloud materialized from above the open skylight and lightning streaked down to strike the emblem. A portal of static opened up, revealing a world of red skies and dark forests. Queen Adrianna stood and said, “Go with our blessings and our love daughter. Send us communications via your magicks. And return to us in triumph.”

Black Adam turned to his eldest child and a spark of warmth seemed to spark in his gaze, a flicker of candlelight that was gone in an instant. He grasped Mahara’s cheek with his bloody hand and said lowly, “Do not fail me.” With that, he returned to his throne, not sparing his daughter another glance.



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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Rtron
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Rtron

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Gunsmith

Bangkok, Thailand.





Gunsmith stood slightly behind Argonaut, letting the other man's shields take the gunfire, examining the chaos as it unfolded. It would be an annoying fight, but nothing incredibly difficult. The suits weren't nearly enough to stop all of them, the trained soldiers would be cut down like chaff, and the metas were already being dealt with. The only one's who would be a problem were the ex-shadow assassins, and Vortex was already dealing with two of them while Cheshire and his group would be equipped, either through skill or enhancements, to deal with the rest. Gunsmith raised his arm, his railgun deploying, and fired a blast into the crowd of those soldiers with exosuits. He doubted they had enough armor to actually resist it, but if they did it would at least stun them for a bit to give them an advantage. "Alright, priority targets: ex-Shadow assassins, Metas, Exo-suits, everyone else. Keep an eye out for the invisible murderers, they'll probably be focusing you." A series of confirmation and then they were gone, their cybernetics tearing through the soldiers.

With his own squad heading into the fray, Gunsmith raised his shotgun and headed into the battle, bullets bouncing off of his armor as he unloaded his shotgun into the enemy, waiting for an assassin to try to attack. He wasn't so foolish as to let bloodlust distract him, and he wasn't so green to let some trained soldiers occupy his full attention.




Therma


Chihuanhuan Desert, Mexico





Therma looked at Nova, an eyebrow arched behind her mask. "I mean, I'm not opposed, but shouldn't you buy me dinner first?" Her wisecrack was soon drowned out by the woman's cybernetics going haywire and her screaming. Therma's first reaction was one of confusion and mild panic, before she realized just how much heat whatever was happening was producing. "What are you-you're insane!" Still, she drew all the heat offered into her body. She focused on making sure she didn't draw all the woman's body heat out. She wasn't sure how that would affect a robot (cyborg? She really wasn't sure what the doctor was) but figured it couldn't be good.

As around 650 degrees C of heat entered her, Therma could feel the power flowing through her veins, and with it the high. She grinned wildly behind her mask, winking at Nova. "Don't need to tell me twice, Sparky! I'll make sure to slap you if you pull my hand to your breasts again." She stood up, ready to tear through the enemy, when Perseus started nagging at her. Therma rolled her eyes, making sure the motion was carried through her head so that he would know. He was such a drag, putting her on clean up duty when she had this much power burning in her body. "Relaaaaaax Percy! It's fire. I'll have it all dead and gone in a jiff, and then you can save the day, or somethin'."

Therma leapt forward into the middle of the lab, laughing aloud as she drew the heat from the flames into her. The fires all around the lab began to sputter and die, their heat being drawn away. Bullets clattered off her armor, but Therma was heedless. She could feel her power rising, and with it, her high. In a few moments, the fires were all gone and Therma moved towards the mechs, her arm blades out and glowing with their heat. "Come on, come on! Time to turn all of you back to scrap and ash!" She sliced through one, the robot exploding, rushing the others with another cackle.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Polyphemus
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Polyphemus They/ Them

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Chihuahuan Desert, Mexico

Vig dodged another slash of the machete, countered a roundhouse kick from Bloodsport. “This is mighty unsociable, Bloodsport,” he complained as he smashed an uppercut into the villain's exposed side, causing him to stuble back a few paces. “I'm a guest in this here lab, you don't make a fella feel very welcome.” He tilted his head as he heard Perseus' instructions over the commlink. "Vig! Finish up with that blowhard! I need him alive!"

“You got it, bossman,” Vigilante said as Bloodsport charged at him again, throwing another punch with his steel-shod hand. It was a powerful running hook, probably could have done some serious damage if it connected. Vig quickly swept his white cowboy hat off his head, turned it around, caught Bloodsport's fist in the crown. Vig took advantage of the split second of confusion to draw his revolver with his left hand and fire one round point blank. Directly into Bloodsport's foot. As the man howled in pain, Vig quickly smashed the heavy wood butt of the revolver directly into the soft underside of his jaw. He pitched forwards, unconscious, right over Vigilante's shoulder.

With Bloodsport out of the fight, Vig took a moment to twirl and holster his revolver as he took stock of the situation. The flames seemed to be dying to embers- guess he had the newcomer to thank for that as he saw some of the blaze drawn into her body. The danger was far from passed, though- mechs spewed bullets and Perseus traded blows with Blockbuster. Peachy.

Vigilante realized what he could do to help though- most of the civilians were Mexican or Central American. It was likely most if not all spoke no English, but thankfully he was fluent in Spanish. “GL, I'm gonna give you a hand evacuating the civilians and our prisoner,” he said as he used his rope to bind Bloodsport hand and foot.

“Listen!” he yelled in Spanish. “We're here to help and we're going to get you out of here. I need you to stay calm and stay under this green light. Anyone wearing yellow, I'm sorry but you'll need to take it off. If you can stand and walk, help the children and the wounded.”

Tak Province, Thailand


She was coming down.

Angela Mannheim hated that feeling more than anything else in the world. She could feel her skin softening, her strength fading. She felt weak. Helpless.

She kicked away the head of the man she had just killed. Fortunately the firefight seemed to be more or less over- between her rampaging self and the superior weapons, tactics, and training of her team the drug milita had been reduced to a few individual holdouts who had barricaded themselves into the handful of buildings in the compounds. They wouldn't last much longer. With this operation eliminated the others in the hills would soon fall in line. Another victory.

She sat down on the pile of eviscerated corpses she had stacked up to catch her breath. Her outfit was ruined, soaked in blood and shredded by bullets. She always felt a little sort of breath when the Miralco wore off, time to rest a little.

The screams and gunfire died down under the sound of state-of-the-art plasma weapons, and she knew her people had won. Might as well check her messages while she was resting. The Pretty Lady pulled out her Legion-issued commlink and went through.

About what she expected. Indignant demands from Sin Tzu to join the assault on the urban centers. Like there wasn't enough freaks spilling blood there already. Someone had to think of the economic future. And the coming of the Elite, of course.

Messages from China White. She had wanted this territory for herself. Mannheim rolled her huge blue eyes. Should have taken it, then, or better yet accepted a generous offer to convert to the Religion of Crime and join Intergang. But no. Angela sent back a simple message as she idly attempted to flick dried blood from her fingernails.

“You're next, China White.”
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Chev
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Chev The Pecking Order

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"You! Get out there and secure my evac. Take out those corrupt cops and start evacuating civilians once you're done. Move it!"

Velocity simply nodded. "Got it." She said as she took a moment to assess her gunshot injuries. Nothing too major and she felt like she could run, not at full speed obviously but at a fast enough speed that these corrupt cops wouldn't see her coming. "See you in a few." She said with a very faint grin as she took off. She tore through the complex at speeds that made her look like a blur and a moment later she emerged outside to see what she pretty much expected to see: Cops firing on the League peacekeepers.

Money talks, corrupt cops listen apparently. She thought with a frown as she looked for the peacekeepers and then took off once again and stopped next to the Sergeant after locating them.

"Hey. I'm here to help. Who's the first target?"

The Sergeant pointed at a number of officers armed with what looked like some type of weaponry that looked like it could punch through a tank if it was used properly. "Good choice. Be right back." Velocity took off at high speed and knocked the weapons from their hands with her first run past them. She knocked a few of them out with her second pass as she lashed out with a number of punches and kicks. When she was done there were around seven hostiles down. She stopped for a brief moment and heard the sound of angry shouts and yells of surprise and she saw the majority of the hostiles turning their weapons on her. She narrowed her eyes beneath her mask and cracked her neck.

"Alright. So that's how it's going to be.

Velocity took off at a speed that she usually only reserved for extremely dangerous situations. She felt that this situation definitely qualified as one with the number of weapons pointed at her and the fact that the turrets were starting to target her as well. The only good things about this situation was that the peacekeepers were hopefully going to have the pressure lifted off them enough for them to catch their breath and could hopefully regroup.

The speedster took off and began knocked weapons from the hands of the cops holding them. A few shots nearly hit her by chance and she was forced to up her speed even more. Little sparks of lightning began to form around her as she forced herself to keep her speed consistent. Can't go any faster. I'm already pushing my luck as it is. At her current speed it almost seemed as if the people firing at her were moving slowly. It was much easier to dodge the bullets then before but she could feel her heart beating faster and faster the longer she kept going at her current speed. The corrupt cops around her were falling apart and beginning to panic as more and more of them were taken out by Velocity until they were only three or four left. She figured the peacekeepers could handle the rest of them as she turned her attention to the turrets. Just a little longer...Just a little bit more...She thought as her vision started to get blurry and pain started to spread through her chest and arms. Not now...I'll be fine when I take it down a bit... A few moments later the turrets were either silent due to the fact that Velocity had managed to get at the individual firing them and had knocked him or her out or she had managed to take out various important parts to the turrets. She was barely able to get back to the Sergeant before she felt the pain increasing. "Can you handle the rest of them?" She asked as she tried not to show any sign of the pain and weakness she was feeling.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by spicykvnt
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T O X I N


[indent]It was the only way, she had to knock them out, as Perseus had asked. And so she ducked into cover while her more physically able colleagues were in the throws of the battle. Truthfully, this was too close to the action for her, and she was panicking but she couldn't let it show. This could all go wrong at any minute. All she could do, was her best. She quickly loaded her gun with a sleeping compound the same one she had used on the guards. Only this time in a more precise execution method. These were darts, which would mean there would be no splash back to her allies.

Up she ducked out of cover, and began firing the darts in sets of 3 before reloading. She kept her eyes our for any flankers - and took down a rather nasty looking Venom agent who had been about to strike a peacekeeper. The room started to feel more and more heated. It must have been Therma doing something. She had no time to focus on that, however, but it did make her feel sluggish - adding to her panicked state.

Eventually she was out of darts - she would assist with the civilians again, calling out to anyone who was listening; "We need to get out of here, this much heat in the lab. I'm worried the whole thing is going to blow...!" She saw the fallen girl, Nova, on the ground and ducked over to help her back to her feet; "you're going to be okay, I've got you!"
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Freeshooter92
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Freeshooter92 Wasteland Scourge

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N O V A

Chihuahuan Desert, Mexico


Nova just laughed quietly, panting lightly as she leaned against the crate. Her breathing was a simulation, a more 'natural' way to express how she was low on energy and over-worked. Without it, she'd just be sitting stock still like a toaster. "Heh, you know, if we wanted to get technical I don't even have breasts right now." She said, gently thumping her fist on her chest-plating. She waved Therma off when she leaped into action, flicking through AR displays on just what all was working. Power was slowly coming back on, and thankfully she could drain her weapon's batteries back into herself to kickstart the process. She used the small amount of energy to create a few more hardlight plates... Just in time to, as a bullet ricocheted off one right as it arrived at the peacekeeper, narrowly saving his life. She noticed a woman approach her, one of her new allies, ostensibly trying to help her. She clicked her tongue and adjusted herself to sit up straighter. "I'm gonna be fine, in about a minute my reactor will be back to normal." She winced as another explosion made the lab rumble a bit, hissing. "Just help all the civvies you can." Strange to think that she was a Civvie herself not too long ago.

She tried to take stock of the situation. There was death, explosions, general chaos. One of the armored goons went down like a sack of potatoes when the shoddy heel was hit, the leg spasming out of control and toppling him. No time for cheering though, as all the chaos was putting the civilians in extreme danger. She got a message that the full range of non-thruster mobility had returned to her, and she was in the process of jumping down to help when she received an order from Perseus. "But..." She started, looking nervously toward the group nervously, then to the lantern. Lanterns were strong, they were in good hands. "Alright." She said with a nod, watching him... take off. "H-hey, I'm still not done charging!... Shit." She sighed, throwing herself over the edge of the railing and stumbling a bit when she landed, without her thrusters she was a lot less graceful. The Mechs were... well, dumb. She didn't show up as a living thing on their sensors so they just let her run past. More advanced robotic soldiers would certainly not be so easily fooled but these were garbage, 'bottom of the barrel' sorts.

She sprinted after the man, following him into the tunnel. Blockbuster, huh? she thought, racking her brain for any kind of information on the man. Some kind of mutant from what she could gather, could get really big and mean. Yeah, that was it. She'd have to study harder if this superhero thing was going to be taking off like she hoped. With her enhanced cybernetic vision she could see clear as day in the tunnel, and up ahead she saw Perseus dueling with a much, much larger man. Must be the target, right? She heard a soft beep, informing her that her reactor had normalized and her thrusters were once again enabled. Perfect. She thought, sliding to a stop and tapping comms on. "Coming through!" was all she said on the line as she got a running start, her thrusters firing up. She did a little hop, the boosters firing to maximum speed as she came rocketing through the tunnel. It was quite the lightshow, hard to miss. Blockbuster might even think an actual missile was coming at him, had he any time to react. A wall of shimmering orange hex-plates formed in the air behind him as Nova slammed into his chest with a faster-than-sound flying kick, the impact great enough to launch the behemoth a great distance... or it would, if the wall wasn't there to catch him. It shattered of course, but it did ensure that he wasn't thrown out of the tunnel to freedom. She bounced off into a somersault, landing beside Perseus and helping him up as she drew her gun. "I got your back!"
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by MrDidact
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MrDidact The Watcher on the Wall

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"It is estimated that 15% of the Earth's humans are metagene carriers, but only a fraction of these have active superpowers, just over 2 million individuals. Over 99% of these individuals barely rank on the Superhuman Ability Index, and can only bend spoons or glow in the dark. Half of a percent are Gamma to Alpha on the index and are considered to have significant powers, over 100,000 individuals, more when considering other superhuman variants who are commonly lumped in with metahumans. But regardless, only a fraction of a percent of the world's total population have any kind of superpower. And yet almost 40% of the world's governments are controlled by superpowered beings. The population of those ranked Gamma and above on the SAI will triple within a generation or two. And the average superhuman has every evolutionary advantage over the average person, with greater intelligence, athleticism, and health. Most appreciate the heroes of the Justice League and their humanitarian and philanthropic acts, but more and more people are scared that metahumans and those like them will replace non-supers. And they're not wrong. History has vindicated the fearful Neanderthal." - Professor Emil Hamilton, retired STAR Labs Director, interview with James Olson




ARGONAUT

Bangkok, Thailand

January 2st, 2052 | 12:15am | Government House of Thailand


There was an explosion of frost as Origami's rounds hit home, the woman's head bursting in a blast that flash-froze several nearby aides and security guards. The betrayal caught her one-time compatriots by surprise and when some of the exo-soldiers turned their guns to bear on the double agent, Gunsmith's railgun launched a shot right in their midst, blowing them apart and across the room. His team advanced forward, efficiently dealing with the exo-soldiers and allowing Origami to mop up the stragglers. One of Gunsmith's teammates gurgled wetly as a sword materialized through his neck from an assassin who came into view. They disappeared out of view once more, jumping for Gunsmith himself, only to be gunned down by the astute mercenary. Cheshire's team of shadow killers traded blows with their former allies, defending themselves as the General's bodyguards slashed and stabbed at them invisibly. Cheshire herself saw right through their technology, her mask's visor cutting through the cloaking fields. One assassin found this out too late as he jumped at Cheshire only to be impaled by her blades. Her smiling cat mask, stained with his blood, was the last thing he saw. The rest of his team didn't last much longer.

Argonaut slammed the strongman into the ceiling of the bunker, jarring him. The meta headbutted Argonaut's helmet, but he cried out as he painfully bounced off of Argonaut's shield. Argonaut didn't know how tough the man was, so he didn't waste time by trying to blast his undoubtedly durable torso. Instead Argonaut shoved his gauntlet into the meta's open mouth, cracking his teeth. The man shouted in alarm, muffled by the gauntlet, before Argonaut fired up his solar projector in the man's mouth. The muffled screams were ragged and desperate, the meta's eyes bulging out inhumanly until they ran down from his face like candlewax. Argonaut watched intently until the screams died. He released the corpse, its blackened mouth gaping, where it fell to the floor and crushed a cowering woman beneath its bulk, like a boot crushing a bug. Now to crush the General.

Vortex's sudden appearance caught the General off guard, his own guards also momentarily startled. When the Legionary unleashed his barrage, one of them was too slow to move and withered away under the assault. Her compatriot was quicker however and rolled out of the way of the projectiles in time. She cloaked and jumped at Vortex, managing to slash one of his guns. She stabbed at his chest, trying for his heart. Jammed it in his armor instead. That sealed her fate. She died, but then several of the remaining exo-soldiers came to the General's aid. Chainguns whirled and flamethrowers roared, one soldier launching round after round from his grenade launcher. The General took this distraction to run away, frantically pulling out a pistol and firing it behind him as he desperately tried to distance himself.

Argonaut watched the spectacle, debating the merits of waiting to see if the Thai soldiers would kill Vortex. He dismissed it after a few seconds. Vortex was certainly hurt but would likely kill the guards and claim the bonus. No, better to disappoint him. And he didn't need a death on his post-mission review. Argonaut keyed his radio, "Clean up for us." No more than a few seconds after that, a blue haze streaked into the room, electricity sparking. One moment, several guards were fighting Vortex. The next, the sound of bullets were replaced by screams and exo-suited men turned into so much viscera and debris. Some had snapped necks. Others had holes where vital organs had been. Some had their bones broken until they were unrecognizable as people. The soldier with the grenade launcher had his weapon blow up in his hands, shrapnel coating his face while his arms ended as stumps past the elbow. Flamethrower packs had detonated, their bearers frantically running around in panic while aflame if they hadn't already been burnt to a crisp.

Speed Demon appeared, absolutely drenched in blood and gore. He looked at Vortex, "Out of the way tin man." The General tried to reload his pistol. He barely got to eject the magazine when Speed Demon was on him. The pistol fell apart in the man's hands, Speed Demon dismantling it in a second. The General gaped up at Speed Demon, begging him not to kill him. The Legionary held up his fingers against his temple, cocked an imaginary pistol. Speed Demon's mask grinned hellishly at the General as he said, "Sorry. I've got my eye on a Buggati." Speed Demon's fingers vibrated, phased through the General's head, into his brain. Re-materialized for a brief second. He pulled his bloody hand from the General's lifeless carcass, a blank expression etched on the dead man's face, before Speed Demon let him fall and blew on his fingers as if clearing away gun smoke. He looked at Vortex again, "Better luck next time." He turned back to the corpse, vibrated his hand once more. Speed Demon vanished, the General's head with him.

Lexos' voice filtered over Argonaut's suit comms, "Argonaut. Communications indicate that Angela Mannheim succeeded in her mission. She was unharmed, her followers sustained light casualties, and they took over the refining operation. Our sources report she threatened China White. So is Sin Tzu."

"She lived? A shame. Oh well. We'll deal with it later. No need to trouble ourselves with the affairs of pirate queens and drug kingpins when we have a coup to celebrate. Inform father, he'll tell the Council."

The fight had ended as soon as the General died, what remained of his followers dropping their weapons and holding up their arms in defeat. Argonaut surveyed the broken survivors, "Let them go. Let them tell people what happens when they come up against the Legion. Go, before I change my mind." The survivors scattered and Argonaut said, "Good job team. Sin Tzu should be receiving the General's head shortly. Not bad for a day's work. Your fees will show up in your accounts shortly. Report to the transports. We'll rendezvous with the other teams and report back to the Fortress. Our work here is done."

Thailand's boy king would be surrendering to his uncle Sin Tzu now. The upstart would be throwing the General's head at his feet. He would order to boy taken into custody. Would sit on the throne himself. His banners would be flying over the palace, over Parliament, over what remained of Bangkok shortly. Soon almost all of the country would follow. He would soon address the world and declare his new monarchy. Within a few months, he would pledge his allegiance to the Shiruta Pact. But Argonaut wouldn't remain there to witness any of that. He had other things to attend to. People to kill. Societies to topple. And he needed to speak to his father. He was sure, Lex Luthor would be pleased.




PERSEUS

Chihuahuan Desert, Mexico

January 1st, 2052 | 6:00pm | Miralco Lab


The civilians, helped along by Toxin and Vigilante and covered by Therma and Green Arrow, crowded out of the blazing room as the mechs tried to stop them from leaving. Unconscious newly-turned metas, wounded, and children were held by their family members. The Peacekeepers escorted the captured enemy soldiers and lab workers by gunpoint. Green Lantern shielded the crowd from bullets as they hurried along the corridors. Sprinklers had been activated by the fires, drenching the survivors as they came to the elevator shaft. Green Lantern bared his ring and a lift of green energy materialized in the vent. The red alien was a fearsome visage to many of the civilians, his appearance making him seem like a demon to the devout Catholics. But Vigilante urged them on and Green Lantern ferried the first tightly packed group up to the surface.

He shot out of the elevator shaft, his construct trailing beneath him, into a firefight. The shack was in shambles, the Peacekeepers trading fire with what remained of the Federal police. They had detonated the dormant mines, blowing up several vehicles while Velocity took down the majority of their ground troops. Green Lantern brought up the lift, then shot a green burst of energy into the air, an artificial flare. Within moments, the Javelin arrived, firing its laser turrets while a door popped open on the side. Out leaned the tattooed figure of El Diablo, pumping his fist and sending lances of fire at the remaining targets. Within moments, the reinforcements were disabled or eliminated and the evacuation continued unimpeded.

Down beneath in the lab, Green Arrow fired his arrows at the mechs, covering Therma as she cut a swath through them. Not that she really needed it. The super-charged meta was too much for the mindless drones to handle, and most of them were destroyed before they could really do anything about it. Within about a minute, they were all wiped out by the two heroes. Most of Therma's reserves were burned up in the fight. Green Arrow whistled, twirling an arrow in hand as he surveyed the damage, "Impressive. Though, the bigwigs aren't going to be too hot about the collateral barbecue."

Suddenly a klaxon started blaring, "Facility cleanse countdown initiated. Cleanse commencement T-minus 90 seconds." Evidently all the chaos triggered some kind of automatic failsafe the Legion had installed to destroy the evidence. Green Arrow said, "Concerns for another time. Let's book it." All of the computer terminals had been damaged in the fight, but some samples of the meta-drugs remained along with some holo-tablets. Green Arrow collected what vials and devices he could and the two heroes ran down the corridor as the timer counted down.

In the escape tunnel Perseus dodged out of the way of Blockbuster's charging form, though that proved redundant when Nova slammed into the villain like a missile. As tough as Blockbuster was, he felt the hit keenly. The breath was driven out of him, and his superhuman ribs had been cracked. He was dazed, hurt, and confused. Perseus nodded at Nova thankfully, using the distraction to retrieve his shield and spear. Perseus picked up the spear and twirled it around, the taser attachment sparking at maximum voltage. Blockbuster struggled to recover, trying to rise from the space he made in the tunnel wall. Perseus said, "Goodnight doctor." With that, he thrust the butt end of the spear forward right at Blockbuster's temple, making the mutated strongman cry out, his hair standing on end. Blockbuster fell unconscious, his body gradually reverting to its original form, his blue skin lightening.

Perseus turned to Nova, to thank her properly when the klaxon reached them in the tunnel. Instead Perseus said, "Grab hold of Desmond. I'll get on your back, get us out of here Nova."

He raised the rest of the team on the radio, as he climbed on Nova, "Team, target is secure. All points evac immediately. Get as far away from the lab as possible and brace. Perseus Out.

After a few harrowing moments, Nova's reactors were fully charged and she rocketed down the tunnel, Perseus holding on with a white-knuckle grip as the clock approached zero. Green Arrow and Therma reached the lift with the last of the evacuees, Green Lantern pulling them up swiftly. The civilians, prisoners, and Justice League cleared the shack putting as much distance between them and the lab as they could. In the nearby hills, Nova and her passengers burst of the secret tunnel just as the countdown ended. There was a great thundering roar and the lab fell in on itself, the ground around the shack sinking inward as the lab was buried under so much dirt and rock, the team looking on.

Several moments later, Nova appeared near the rest of the team with the captive Blockbuster in her arms and Perseus hopping off of her back. Perseus took off his helmet, wiped away some sweat from his brow, "It wasn't perfect, but we saved the civilians and stopped the Legion with minimal loss of life. You all did well, for the most part." Perseus cast a sideways glance at Therma.

"Regardless, mission was accomplished. We'll head back to the Watchtower for a debrief and to turn over the prisoners. The council needs to know what happened immediately." Already, other Javelins and boxy lifters were visibly closing in the distance, their own having called for reinforcements once Green Lantern's flare had been spotted. They would come with Peacekeepers to round up the rest of the prisoners and emergency personnel to attend to the civilians and evacuate them back to the Hall of Justice.

"We'll let them handle it from here. Let's get on the Javelin. Velocity, Nova, you'll come with us." Just then Perseus' commlink buzzed in his helmet. He replaced the helm and said, "Perseus. Situation is contained. Blockbuster and Bloodsport in custody. Will require excavation and containment crews once the civilians are casevac'd and prisoners taken in."

The Leaguer on Monitor duty, Mr. Terrific replied, "Confirmed, Perseus. But I have some bad news."

"Thailand has fallen?" Perseus had known the Legion to be ruthlessly efficient but the speed and totality of their operation still surprised him.

"Not only that but their Ambassador to the UN was killed. Along with most of his staff and security team." That was a shock. Wonder Woman had been on duty. She had never failed a protection mission. Immediately, he was concerned.

"And our team?"

"Superficial injuries. A few Peackeepers are in the medbay. But... Deathstroke and Ravager were there. We're keeping the rest of the details close to chest for the moment. We'll brief you when the time comes." Mr. Terrific sounded troubled, and that didn't bode well at all.

Perseus frowned, "Very well. There's something else isn't there?"

Mr. Terrific sighed, "Yeah. This one isn't confidential. We're gonna start calling everyone we can back to the Watchtower. The roster will be gathered within the week."

It was rare for the whole roster to be called to the Watchtower outside of the scheduled meetings or some celebration. Whatever it was for, it wasn't pleasant. Perseus kept silent, letting his colleague continue, trying to brace himself for the worst.

"Wesley Dodds was murdered."

He hadn't braced himself enough.




"We will return with more coverage as the story surrounding the Thailand coup develops and details emerge in the investigation in the death of Ambassador Demir, a case with no civilian witnesses and where no official has offered comment. Sources inform us that Demir's body remains in the JLU's custody. We will also provide more details soon on the latest chapter of the War on Drugs amid preliminary reports that members of the Federal Police fired on JLU agents during an operation, the latest in a series of scandals rocking the Mexican government as they battle the narco-terrorist cartels to little effect and struggle with systemic internal corruption. Lastly, Wesley Dodds, former member of US Army Special Forces and the first Sandman, has died. Dodds, 85 years old, was a noted philanthropist and surrealist artist whose heroics inspired cartoon and comic-book adventurers that charmed millions. The JLU has not released the cause of death and he is survived by an adopted son and numerous grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The only official comment has come from Alan Scott, retired hero and current Intendant of Astrapolis who expressed the sorrow of the entire superhero community at Dodds' death and his own personal hope that his longtime friend and comrade was in a better place." - CNN News Bulletin




NICHOLAS

Adirondack Park, New York

January 8th, 2052 | 12:00pm | Valhalla Cemetery


A week had passed since Thailand had been overrun by the Legion of Doom. Since the Justice League had discovered the Legion's meta-trafficking operation in Mexico. Since Sanderson Hawkins had discovered the body of the man he called his father. The death of one of the first costumed heroes, one of the community's premier figures, a man he had considered a mentor and friend, gnawed at Nick. He had known Wesley since he was a child. He had watched all the shows, read the comics and pulp novels. When Nick had joined the Titans, Wesley had helped guide him through his training. Forge him into the crime-fighter he was now. And now he was gone.

Too many friends and comrades had already passed, and the sudden absence of yet another fixture in his life left Nick shaken. He couldn't imagine how Sandy felt or Kieran, Sandy's son and the current Sandman. Nick remembered his own father's brush with cancer, the feeling of desperation and hopelessness, the dread of death hanging over head. Thankfully the League's advanced medicine saved him. No doubt, Wesley's family wished someone could have done the same. Sandy, Kieran, and the rest of their family had their grief written plain on their faces though some were more stoic than others. Kieran's young son Wes, a few years from starting in Titans Academy, wept openly.

The service itself was relatively small, a few hundred close family and friends, those who knew and fought alongside Wesley or his son and grandson. Still there were enough that the modest space was almost full to bursting. Wesley had a Catholic father and a Jewish mother, but while he had been spiritual he wasn't discerning about either and the memorial hall was purposefully simple and austere to serve for those of all faiths. Nick sat with Mary and the kids, the rest of their family including each of their parents, close by. All talk was a hushed murmuring as Jesse Quick played mournful songs upon the piano. Wesley had been known to all of them, had even fought alongside his parents on a few occasions. Vic Sage was a quiet man at the best of times but today he was particularly silent. And Nick's mother Helena, a fiery and vivacious woman, was solemn and forlorn. The loss was felt enormously to every person in the room. Wesley hadn't just been a friend, comrade, and mentor. He had been family to all of them. Nick still couldn't believe he was gone. Murdered.

He felt his sorrow tempered with an edge of rage at the thought. Looking around he saw it in many others, the firmness of Sandy's jaw, the clenching of Kieran's fists. And as Nick gazed at the flowers placed around the ceremonial coffin with Wesley's logo emblazoned upon it, at the portrait of a matured but handsome and smiling Wesley Dodds, he felt the ember of anger grow. He sat silently, holding Mary's hand while speakers came to the podium to deliver their eulogies. All of the surviving members of the JSA and other veteran heroes who knew Wesley best spoke. Alan Scott uttered a prayer, bade his friend be at peace. Jay Garrick told a lighthearted story, a sad smile upon his face. Joan Dale recited a poem. Ted Grant was on the verge of tears. Rex Tyler reminisced of old missions. Sandra Knight solemnly said goodbye. Many others came and went, though not as many as there would be in years past. These veterans who had gone to battle as little more than children had lived their lives together. Some died peacefully. Others didn't. All of them had memorials here in Valhalla Cemetery, the shrine to the memory of the world's first heroes.

More came to speak. Diana, whose mother had fought alongside both Wesley's grandfather and father in different conflicts. Clark, who had met with Wesley on many occasions and even interviewed him once. Bruce, who had sought out Wesley and the other members of the JSA to train under. When it was Sandy's turn, he talked of his time as Wesley's sidekick, how he had been orphaned and taken in as his son. How he hoped that Wesley was with his beloved Dian now. When Kieran came, he almost didn't finish his speech. As soon as he left the stage, he wept. By the end of the service, two hours of stories and speeches, there was hardly a dry eye in the hall. The time came to bear the ceremonial coffin to Wesley's monument.

Wesley's actual body was still being kept in cryogenics while the investigation was ongoing. Wesley had wished for his ashes to be scattered in space, to become stardust and join his beloved in the heavens. But he had still wanted a site alongside his oldest friends, his brothers and sisters in arms. Inside the coffin was instead Wesley's first costume, the iconic gas-mask and trench coat ensemble that was as much a part of his identity as anything else. But where there was no body, the coffin still hung heavily on the shoulders of the pallbearers. Sandy and Kieran took two positions. The other four were Alan Scott, Jay Garrick, Ted Grant, and Rex Tyler. The mourners followed behind as the pallbearers marched and bagpipers played a dirge. The sky was grey and shrouded by clouds, rain pattering the procession. Those who didn't wear suits or dresses had arrived in funerary versions of their costumes. Alan wore a black cape, Jay a black helmet. Instead of being comical, there was a regal dignity to the group as they marched forward. The coffin was draped by an American flag, as Wesley had been a veteran like most of his generation.

They passed the memorials and resting places of other old heroes. The first Commander Steel. The first Black Canary. The first and second Blue Beetle. Too many others. Valhalla Cemetery was a private resting place, hidden in one of North America's largest forests on a privately owned plot. An enchantment laid by Giovanni Zatara kept the trees shielding the cemetery fertile all year, the nearby lake blue and calm, even as the forest around them was shrouded in snow. A different enchantment kept Valhalla out of notice by passersby. In life, heroes had everything bared to the world. Here they could finally find some manner of privacy.

Nick took some small solace in that as they reached Wesley's memorial. It was a relatively simple, understated affair. A guardian angel looked down on Wesley and Dian's headstones. The pall-bearers removed their gloves. Placed them on the coffin.

Wesley's read, "Beloved husband, father, grandfather, friend, hero. Child of Dreams, at rest."

The military had designated an honor guard to perform the rifle salute. Among them was Jason Trevor, son of Diana. They performed their duty flawlessly, even as Nick thought he caught a tear in Jason's eye. Hal Jordan wrapped up the flag draping Wesley's coffin and handed it to Dian Hawkins, Sandy's daughter. Her tears were obvious, even mixed with the rain. Kent Nelson recited the final eulogy, the former Dr. Fate speaking somberly but strongly as his friend was lowered to the ground. Nick bowed his head in respect. They all did. Kept them there until the coffin was at rest. Many of the mourners held flowers, quite a few were mauve carnations symbols of dreams. They floated down to the coffin and they all said one last goodbye before turning back.

As Nick turned around, he saw his friend Kieran grasp a handful of dirt and pour it onto the coffin. Then he left without a word. As Kieran left, Nick caught a figure standing beyond the cemetery in the snow. A white wraith whose presence was ethereal and all to substantial. An emerald cloak flowed regardless of the breeze. The Spectre nodded at Nick.

Nick nodded back.

He understood.




ALBERT

The Watchtower, Astrapolis

January 8th, 2052 | 5:00pm | Bridge


Albert stood close to the massive view-port on the earthward side of the Watchtower. America's eastern seaboard was in view. He could see his home, the bright lights of the City of Tomorrow. He could see the forest where the Justice League had put their memorial to Wesley Dodds. He hadn't been there to see it himself. Lara had wanted him to go and Albert wished to attend. But he couldn't have withstood the stares, the sneers, the silences as he walked past. Albert had many friends but many others despised him. His name played a large part in that. Ever since the Legion attacked, half of his comrades expected him to betray them any day now. No, he mourned for Wesley alone. Albert wouldn't taint his funeral.

Indeed, the whole week was mostly devoid of reasons for him to smile. He had to dress down Therma, a woman he respected and trusted, for acting foolhardy in the field. He had to go to sleep with images of screaming innocents and horrific experiments. He had to cope with the violent loss of one of the only veteran heroes who had accepted him. He lived with the knowledge that his brother massacred a city. The footage had been horrifying. It reminded him of E-Day. His brother had caused that. Someone he had once loved. And Alex did it on their father's order. The thought made him furious. Albert had called his father New Year's Eve. Despite all that happened, Albert was courteous. His father had smiled at him. Smiled. Even when he knew what was going to happen next. Truly there was no end to his lies. His ruthlessness. But the world didn't know it. And there was a very real chance that the architect of so much suffering would soon become the leader of the Free World.

No, there was nothing to smile about at all. And they still hadn't told him what happened to Demir. He had tried talking to Lyta. To Mar'i. They had refused to speak of it. The secrecy galled him. The interrogations of Blockbuster and Bloodsport were ongoing. They had mental blocks in place that prevented telepathic examination. But the League knew the Legion was planning something big and suspected that the Legion of Doom was building an army. If that was the case, the League would have to shore up their own numbers. He had recommended Nova and Velocity for membership. They were rookies. But they had their hearts in the right place. They just needed training. They weren't yet full members, but for now they could accompany veteran Leaguers in missions. Likely, Command would stick them with him most of the time.

Though they weren't in his hair for the moment. They were allowed the run of the station. They were under constant surveillance at any rate, even after the extensive psychic, mystical, and mundane examination that had been done to make sure they weren't up to any trouble. He wondered where they were now. There was a flash of light and a burst of sound as yet another team arrived from Earth onto the teleporter pads. The League had been activating reservists, recalling Leaguers into active duty, moving retired or isolated allies onto the station or into secure areas. Ostensibly it was to discuss strategy and gather people for Wesley's memorial. The funeral had been private but a statue had been dedicated to him in the Hall of Heroes and there was a quiet reception going on now in banquet hall. No the truth was that it was for safety. Everyone's. Wesley's murder had spooked them all. Especially the state of the crime scene.

Meta Freak. Fascist. Killer. Those words spray-painted all over his apartment. Albert put it out of his head. That was a question for the Investigation Division. He had other concerns. Like the meeting that would start in just 30 minutes. The Council would finally brief him on what was going on. But he knew he wouldn't like the answers. He turned away from the window, went to find Lara. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't enjoy being alone very often. Especially not now. She had greeted him when she returned from the funeral, but she had been with the rest of her family. He hadn't had the chance to really be with her. But he knew where she was.

He knew the station by heart. The armory, where one could refit their equipment, manufacture new tools, and even test weapons on holographic or robotic targets. The commissary, which provided food from all corners of the globe and Mars around the clock. The massive gymnasium and its training rooms, where one could spar or challenge their body and powers in every conceivable manner. Where you could fight simulated battles or train in zero-g. There was the common area, which had numerous holographic video screens for movies, shows, and video games. There were simulation pods and rooms where you could place a call to anywhere in the world. The library which had public Extranet terminals and endless archives of books and music. That was only a fraction of the facilities that the Watchtower offered, and this without even considering the city's worth of shopping plazas, theatres, restaurants, museums, and all manner of other buildings that made up Astrapolis. The Justice League had built a shining city in the sky, and one could spend years there and discover something new every day.

He was reminded of the marvel that had been built, the wonder of it all, as he passed by viewports that offered him stunning views of other planets and outer space. But even those sights couldn't raise his spirits. She could. He found her at her usual place, in the massive garden with it's ceiling of stars. A farmer's daughter at heart. She was bent at the waist, tending to several carnations. She heard him step closer, heard his heartbeat. But she acted surprised when he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned back into his chest, looked at him with those beautiful violet eyes.

"Can't a girl get some alone time with her flowers?" She smiled.

"You'll have plenty of that while I'm in there with the Council. It'll be quite unpleasant I'm sure."

Lara Kent, the newest Supergirl, smirked, "Well I'm sure, you'll rise to the challenge. You're adaptable that way. Just like you'll adapt to me turning my attention back to my flowers."

She made a show of trying to untangle from his arms when she could have escaped with a nudge of her pinky and Alfred just kissed her. That actually surprised her, then she leaned into it, turning around to kiss him back before withdrawing for a moment, "You don't usually like public displays of affection. People might see. You hate that kind of attention. You hate them talking."

Albert shook his head, "Let them see. Let them talk. I don't care about any of that right now. I just need you."

Lara stroked his cheek, smiled warmly, and kissed him back.

For a moment, Albert Luthor forgot about everything else. Just a moment.




ALEXANDER

The Fortress of Doom, An Unknown World

January 8th, 2052 | 5:00pm | Trophy Room


Alexander Luthor stood looking at the marks of his successes. In Bangkok, the head of the General was supposedly still displayed on a spike outside of Parliament. But the real thing has been sent to the Legion by Sin Tzu as tribute. It was now floating in a preservative jar, the latest of the Legion's collective mementos of conquest. True, Alexander hadn't struck the killing blow. No he'd made sure to deny Vortex the pleasure. But he still considered it his success. The culmination of so much meticulous planning and his own strategic vision, no matter how much Sin Tzu tried to claim credit for it. There were hundreds of other such tokens, but this head on a pedestal was his.

He studied the blank eyes for a moment and turned smiling to the window, looking out on the red skies and black forests. It had been a marvelous week for him. Accolades from the Council. One of those arrogant society members had been killed. The dreadfully dull Blockbuster had been taken into custody without the Legion's operation being compromised. Batman's grandson had been turned to their side. The Justice League was on the defensive. And father had personally congratulated him.

Really the occasions called for celebration. And there was much of that. The Fortress had been opened to thousands of the Legion's associate members. The common areas were infested with debauchery and sin. Despite it's ominous skull-like appearance, the Fortress had all the modern amenities one could expect. And yet beyond even gambling, drinking, or dancing, many of his compatriots unsurprisingly preferred the illegal pleasures. All manner of recreational drugs. Fights between monsters from supernatural dimensions, sometimes with an unlucky prisoner thrown in. Brawling in public. And not to mention what went on in the brothels and dungeons. He heard some had become rather fond of testing new weapons on prisoners. Really anything went, so long as another Legionary wasn't slighted. But there were plenty of slights. It was all the local security could do to keep the Legionaries from killing each other or damaging the Fortress' property.

In another time, Alexander might have been amused by the antics. But not now. He preferred more constructive past times, of which there were many in the Fortress. The training center was just as effective as the Justice League's, if a tad more dangerous. The library was just as expansive and with some forbidden volumes to boot. He heard a rumor that the mess hall provided human meat upon request but he'd never found out for sure. Beyond that, the Fortress was a hub of business. Supernatural beings and extraterrestrial travelers often came to the Fortress to trade in black market goods, and there were plenty of hidden rooms to discuss contract killings or smuggling routes. One could venture out into the wilderness if they wanted, but only at their own peril.

No, what interested Alexander was the auditorium. The Council of Light had opened themselves up for petition from their members and both Sin Tzu and China White had complaints to put forth about Angela Mannheim. China had come herself with an impressive armed guard, smart. Sin Tzu had sent a brother or cousin to act as a herald. Smart as well, he was probably a rival somehow. If Vortex wanted to he could put forth a complaint about Alexander denying him his bonus, but he doubted the brute would take such a formal route. No he'd come up with some petty revenge later that Alexander wasn't even worried about. His reasons for coming to the meeting chamber were two-fold. In addition to witnessing the mediation in the poppy field dispute, he also wanted to get the measure of the Princess Mahara. They had never met before but the word on the grapevine was that her father had sent her to the Fortress as an agent of his own interests. Alexander wanted to see if she lived up to the King. She'd likely be in the auditorium, paying witness to the Legion's official business.

Afterward he'd try to seek out some of his other comrades. Their company was sometimes tolerable, though he suspected most of them were training. Just as long as he didn't run into the cybernetic oaf. The doors of the auditorium were manned by a squad of stormtroopers, suited in black armor and matching helmets. They stood at attention and he nodded back, taking his seat in the circular stand that ran around the Council Chamber, the Council themselves seated on a raised dais overlooking the speaker's podiums below. Alexander studied all the faces, though some of them were only present by hologram or had a stand-in speaking for them.

Vandal Savage, the immortal. Queen Bee, mistress of HIVE and the Neo-Persian Empire. The Brain, conqueror of Algeria. Lord Grodd, butcher of the Congo. Duke Xanatos, fortune 500 CEO and black market weapons mogul. Killer Frost, self-made ice queen from the eastern bloc. Klarion the Submissionary, agent of the Lords of Chaos. Lord Naga, of the snake-worshipping Nagaraja. Ocean Master, rebel against Atlantis. Dr. Sivana, ally of Black Adam and enemy of Captain Marvel. Baal Sinestro, standing in for his conqueror father. Talia al Ghul standing in for hers. Alexander's father, who needed no introduction. Thirteen in the Light, the Legion's chosen leaders. There were others who were perhaps more infamous, more powerful. But those thirteen had the influence and support, and the wide resource base to form the initial alliance the Legion had been born in. Lex Luthor did not acknowledge his son beyond a cursory nod, which Alexander expected. This was official business after all.

Alexander leaned back, crossed his arms, and waited for the fun to start.
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MAY

The Watchtower, Astropolis

January 8th, 2052 | 4:30pm | Medical Complex


"F-ffffffuck!" A deep shout rang out from the back corner of the ward, another patient groaning and turning over in their cot.

"Shhhh, it's alright. I told you there'd be a little jolt." The doctor said, attempting to soothe the patient. "S-sure, sorry Doc..." The patient replied, a burly peacekeeper, wounded during the mission a week ago. The mission had gone rather well, she thought. The site was destroyed, which was her primary objective independent of the League's, but now that she was, er, a member the facility's destruction was less than ideal, all sorts of secrets could have been revealed with a thorough investigation. That said, most of their people had survived, between Nova's hardlight barriers and the Green Lantern. Nova's shielding was... far from perfect however, and some of the peacekeepers had been winged by some altogether grisly weaponry.

Once she'd arrived on the watchtower, she had been subjected to a fair amount of interrogation, from the psionic to the mundane... Let it be said that Martian Manhunter is much, much more terrifying in person. And despite the suspicious coincidence of her arrival, they hadn't found her to be hiding anything. She hadn't honestly intended to join the League at first, she merely needed to make sure to destroy that facility. The League, however, made it clear that she wouldn't be slinking away until they were certain she was not a spy. Which was... fair, honestly. The first couple of days she felt like a prisoner, but now... She could get used to this. She had a greater opportunity to make up for her mistakes with the League than she ever had on her own.

And first? The Peacekeepers. Now, the League had access to incredible medical technology of course, the efficacy of which was unrivaled by pretty much anything short of a Lazarus pit, and the bonus was that League medical facilities didn't drive you completely insane. So, what was the problem? Well, the sad truth was that resources were limited, obviously. The raw Materials was one thing, but manpower is another. Even automated medical procedures generally require supervision. So, who gets healed? Well, in the event of large rescues Civilians are naturally treated first, and there tends to be a lot of them. Next is Leaguers, because obviously they needed to be in top shape to even do the rescuing in the first place. Then you have Auxillary forces, like peacekeepers. Anyone that isn't actually under the League proper's command, but is working with them. Now, the Justice League was not heartless, they wouldn't just not treat the peacekeepers. So again, what was the problem?

The League would generally treat any kind of pressing medical care, then send them home for their long-term treatment. This was usually sufficient, and for most of the peacekeepers, it was certainly fine. Terrestrial doctors could take care of bullet wounds and gashes. However, two or three of them had been more severely injured, and while they were stabilized in time, well... Amputation would be necessary. Which meant that when they got home they'd receive prosthetic replacements from the state. They certainly would be of decent quality, but for the most part cybernetic limbs available to people were obviously artificial and generally came with a host of problems. May didn't like that, not when a master of the field such as herself was not otherwise doing anything. She'd hand-craft replacement limbs that were just as good as the old ones, and aesthetically appealing to boot.

This particular Peacekeeper was her last patient, one she felt particularly guilty about as he lost his arm when a bullet ricocheted off one of her hardlight plates, shattering it at juuuust the right angle to tear his arm apart. It saved his life, but... "Just like I told you, it's just syncing up to your nerves. Try moving it?" She asked. The Peacekeeper nodded, looking down to his new arm and slowly, tentatively the fingers twitched, slowly closing into a fist. It was obviously synthetic, though it was very well made. It had a layer of synthetic flesh, in little 'plates' with subtle seams where they joined. There was no exposed metal of any kind, but the false skin was a sort of cream, off-white color, which clashed horribly with the Gentleman's darker pigmentation. Not that it would have matched much better if he was white. May smiled, noting the man's apprehension. "It doesn't look like much, but it's very good that you can move it so soon. Don't worry about the color, over a few days it'll change to match the rest of you." She said, checking one of the monitors.

"A-alright. So, am I good to go, now?" He asked, flexing his new fingers back and forth, the motions slowly becoming more fluid. "Very nearly. I believe I've already explained it, but the prosthetic gets its power from your body, and is also capable of repairing itself. So just be sure to eat healthy and it should stay in tip top shape. It'll try to match its muscle mass to the rest of your body, but exercises can help your body grow accustomed to it faster. After a little bit you'll hardly know the difference." She said, clicking the monitor off and standing, offering her hand. She helped him up, patting the taller man on the back and gesturing to the door. "Alright... thanks again, Doc. I really appreciate it." He said with a nod, though May stopped him. "Oh yes, I almost forgot... After the incident with Sgt. Anthony, I'm going to remind you that you may have trouble controlling grip strength for a few days. So use your other hand for 'alone time' if the inclination strikes you." She mentioned, the peacekeeper blushing and rubbing the back of his neck with a muttered 'O-okay.' before heading over to the Nurse to get checked out.

Her work done for the day, May smiled and stepped into the halls, intent to wander the Watchtower for a while, idly wondering if she'd bump into anyone else.
Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Polyphemus
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Polyphemus They/ Them

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The Fortress of Doom

Once the chamber settled down, Angela Mannheim could feel all eyes on her, especially those of the council. Good. She liked being the center of attention. Her entire life had been a pursuit towards being looked at.

She stood, unfolding to her full height of seven feet, back straight, chin held high and aloof. “I do not intend to defend myself,” she said without preamble. “A defense would mean I have done something wrong, and I have committed no sin. The sin instead would be meekness. The sin would be lack of vision. Those sins are on the heads of my accusers,” she said, turning her huge blue eyes on Sin Tzu's emissary- the coward hadn't even come in person. “We are a criminal organization, founded by criminals. Let us not pretend otherwise. To do so is self-deceiving, cowardly, and blasphemous.”

She looked next at China White. “And as for you. Selling Katie? What are you, some Gotham City corner pusher? This is what you want to do with the resources of the Legion. Have some pride, woman. Set your sights a little higher. Miralco and Venom are the way of the future, the means of conquest. I am not without forgiveness, though- you've done well enough running your territory. There's a place for you and your people in Intergang if you accept the True Faith of Crime.”

She turned back to the Council. “As I see it, you can continue to throw crumbs to the good little boys and girls like China White and Sin Tzu. But for an organization devoted to conquest it's counterproductive to punish those with the drive to conquer. Thanks be to the Elite, Amen.”

With nothing further to say she sat back down, looking positively bored.

The Watchtower

Thirty minutes before the meeting.

Vigilante had only been to the Watchtower two or three times before. He preferred to skip most of the parties and rarely strayed away from Warpath. Not that he didn't trust his Rough Bunch to handle any situations. The truth was he often didn't really feel like part of the League at all. Sure, he was an official member, but he had gone through none of the formalities. No Academy, no apprenticeship, no fancy headquarters. No superpowers, just a man with guns and grit.

Time was that was enough. Back when they were called “mystery men” instead of superheroes. Back in the days of the Seven Soldiers. And the Sandman.

There was something he needed to do.

He had had a decent enough sandwich in the mess, then gone to one of the Watchtower's many small chapels. It was quiet there, no one else in attendance. Still in uniform, he respectfully removed his hat. He had never been religious, he felt unsure what to do next. Light a candle, maybe? His ancestors had lit incense, maybe that would be more appropriate.

The fact was that Jake Leong had never so much as met Wesley Dodd. Hell, if they had passed each other on the street Vig wouldn't have recognized him. But he was one of the old guard. While they hadn't been members of the same organizations, The Sandman had more than once stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the original Vigilante and of course Jake's great-grandfather Stuff. They had tackled Fifth Columnists, spies, racketeers, crooked politicians, mad scientists, warlords. Their adventures were the stuff of legend. Greg Sanders and Wesley Dodd had been friends, he knew that for certain.

And now he was gone.

Vigilante didn't know why, but that thought gave him a vague sense of unease. Something was changing in a huge and fundamental way with the passing of the old man, and for a moment he felt a tremendous weight on his back. As though the death of the Sandman had opened some kind of floodgate.

Slowly, almost unconsciously he found himself speaking out loud. A poem he had learned years and years ago.

The Cowboy has always been a dying breed- 
But he takes his dying slowly, perched upon his steed- 
The prairie is his prison, his church his wife- 
You can take away his sky 
You can take away his life- 
Yet where does he go when the range is all closed? 
Does he retire to his bunkhouse in depressed repose? 
No- he climbs back in that saddle- if just to bide his time 
The Cowboy knows- a good death is hard to find.


It wasn't much of a tribute for a man he had never met. But it would have to do.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago 6 yrs ago Post by Rtron
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Rtron

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Marcus

Fortress of Doom.





He detested the Fortress. Especially when it was in a celebratory mood. It was filled with chaos, blackmailing, politicking, and debauchery. He could easily be approached by someone wanting to hire him to murder a rival as having someone drugged out and insane trying to murder him for a rush. The Legion was only kept together through the fact that the League would have destroyed them all by now if they weren't united. Discipline varied from faction to faction and it was never in very high demand. So when all these disparate groups came clashing together, it became a disgusting mess of conflict and entropy whose only shelter was in the auditorium where the Council heard complaints and gave judgments.

Marcus sat in the auditorium waiting for the event to begin, a hologram of all potential recruits. Ruger had died at the hands of the rogue league of assassins in Bangkok, and his squad needed a replacement. They were all experienced killers, ranging from mercenaries, to Legion soldiers, to discharged soldiers from various governments that still held their independence. They were all disciplined and ruthless, exactly what he'd need on his team. Marking a Legion soldier who had served with the Legion since it had conquered most of the known world, a mercenary who had fought on every continent for every side, and a dishonorably discharged US marine. They would be picked up his squad and put through a series of tests to prove which of them would be the best replacement, and worthy of the cybernetic enhancements.

His hologram closed as the hearing began, and Marcus raised an eyebrow at Angela's 'defense'. An appeal to the true nature's of everyone around her was smart, reminding them all that they were only allies through necessity. They were all ultimately selfish creatures who wanted as much power as they could for themselves, only aligned together because the Justice League wouldn't let them claim the power they wanted by themselves.

Her mistake was in forgetting why she was even in Thailand to begin with. She was in Thailand to help the Legion take over and expand its power against the League, not to expand her own drug money. While ultimately her aid wasn't required or even necessary, putting yourself so blatantly over the needs of the Legion was foolish. It indicated a tendency to do so no matter what, even despite the fact that she might be needed to win a victory for the Legion. Selfishness was allowed, selfishness to the detriment of the Legion was not.

"You are a fool, Angela. A fool whose ambition will see her destroyed." Marcus murmured

Kayda


The Watchtower


After her scolding by the higher ups, Kayda wasn't in a very good mood. Yes, she knew she shouldn't have been so reckless. Yes, she knew it had been dangerous. Reprimanding her for things she was already acutely aware of and knew she shouldn't have done wasn't fair. Her powers were amazing and almost indescribable. They filled her with such a high. She got a crazy rush whenever she used it in the heat of a fight, and everything didn't seem to matter. She was a raging wildfire, tearing through anything that opposed her and shrugging off any pathetic attacks resistance might be able to muster against her. She didn't care about things like caution or collateral damage. Those were beneath her when she was filled with her power. And the only people who could understand were venom users, and they certainly weren't the best advocates for her defense. No one understood. And no one wanted to understand.

With a dark look on her face and heat smoldering around her fists, Kayda made her way to the training room. She needed to blow off some anger, and the best way to do that was with violence.

Metal sizzled and popped as the training bot melted beneath her flames.

Maybe I should just take my time, let them get set up to attack us and kill the civilians, so I'm not reckless

A cybernetic body shook and sparked as her blades sliced it in half.

Or! Or! I could not do it at all, and just give them an advantage in this war, right?

Another bot crashed against the wall, shattering as its frozen body made contact.

Even better, I'll just die. That'll fix everything, right? No collateral damage, no recklessness, and you can sit on your moral high ground as the world burns around you.

She stopped, breathing heavily, heat radiating off her body. Broken and burned robots were scattered all around the training room, and burns covered the area. She felt better, even if she could feel the eyes of the other supers in the room around her. She had perhaps given too much into her anger, raging against anything and everything in front of her. Let them stare though. She already had a reputation for being reckless and irrational because of Perseus's report and the scolding of the higher ups. It didn't matter if she made it worse now.

She walked out of the training room, her nanomachine armor returning to her necklace as it did so. She didn't care about the meeting. Sandman was dead, his future vision unable to alert him. Thailand had fallen, the League unable to do anything to stop the Legion. Anything else she would need to know would be told to her by the higher ups. She headed towards her room in the Tower, intent upon relaxing in the calm before the storm.




Vera


Fortress of Doom


Vera was in one of the few, quiet, empty rooms of the Fortress of Doom. She hated this place, truth be told. Everyone here was a bastard who deserved to die. They were monsters who conquered countries that couldn't defend themselves, and waged a shadow war against the League that ultimately only hurt the innocent. They didn't deserve the power they had, but the League didn't have the guts to stop them and could only watch as the Legion grew in strength. The depths of her hatred for both organizations surprised her, at times. Neither side had ever done anything directly to her, but she could see the connections to those who had. The Legion was your typical group of bullies with power, taking what they could simply because they could and not caring who or what they hurt in the process. Monsters, but they were at least honest about who and what they were.

The League was a group of cowards who couldn't do what had to be done against the Legion and refused to acknowledge their fault in letting the Legion do all that it had done. They sat upon their moral high ground, claiming they were the good side, as their inaction lead to the death and enslavement of millions. Vera hated that more than she hated the Legion. That hypocritical dishonesty. The Legion was honest, even if they were a bunch of bastards.

She needed them though, as they were her path to power. That didn't mean she had to like or trust them, and she certainly didn't have to enjoy being here. Still, when the Council made a celebratory summons to anyone who could, she had to go. It wouldn't look good if she refused to go while having no mission to do herself. And much of surviving being in the Legion was keeping up appearances so that no one suspected your loyalty was in question.

So she had found an abandoned room, hidden away from all the debauchery and madness of the Fortress at large and the blackmailing and politicking going on in the main auditorium. Drak curled around her shoulders as she sat in the chair, phone in hand. She was mostly window shopping video games, having already read all the news she needed to read about Thailand and the death of the Sandman. Now she was just waiting for the crowds to disperse so she could safely head back to her apartment and her friends there. A hand rested on the gun on her hip. She'd already had to threaten and/or injure party goers who had gotten to bold and handsy, and she wasn't about to risk anyone else.
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Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Freeshooter92
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Freeshooter92 Wasteland Scourge

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V O R T E X

Bangkok, Thailand

January 3rd, 2052 | 12:01am | Streets


Vortex stood, in disbelief. He'd done it all. Fought and killed, and won. But he hadn't won. Goldilocks cheated, stole his victory right from under him. He could have called that speedster in any time he wanted. But he didn't. He waited until right before the moment of his triumph, and stole it from him at the last moment. He'd thrown himself into harm's way, and for nothing. He loved the chaos, and the murder, but that one last act had soured it all, like having a nice tall glass of the most delicious drink and finding a roach at the bottom. He had barely moved since the speedster taunted him, the words filling him with such incalculable fury he couldn't do anything but sit there in stunned silence. He hadn't done nothing, of course. After one of those assassins had stabbed him, he was sure to break her legs. The general's command room had been empty since. There was nothing of value here that couldn't be accessed elsewhere, and he was... unstable, like this. He wasn't the most destructive legionnaire, but he sure was one of the easiest to set off.

"It's not fair." he said flatly, looking off to one of his pistols, the one that had been sliced in half. It was seeking to mend itself, silvery nanite tendrils slowly dragging it across the floor to its other half, and when they met they would meld back together. He could obviously accelerate the process, but he was busy pouting. He hadn't even bothered to take the sword out of his shoulder. "Killing my way down here wasn't fucking easy. I'd rather have stayed above ground if he was gonna fuckin' do that." The assassin sort of writhed weakly, muffled cursing and sobbing impossible to make out. She couldn't move, but everything just hurt too much for her to pass out. She hadn't bled out, unfortunately. She was stuck with the madman until he was done with his pity party.

He sighed, looking down to her. How... pitiful, she was. She expected a bit more... defiance, but after about nine hours she broke down into a hopeless, sobbing wreck. He didn't rate these assassins too highly. Little Luthor would suffer for this, somehow. He'd probably forget, but Vortex would not. His vengeance would be inexplicable, unpredictable, and humiliating. He thought of asinine pranks like filling his toilet with concrete, or maybe stealing the head trophy and destroying it, maybe take revenge on Speed Demon instead, steal the steering wheel on his new fucking car... But that was all stuff that could be handled privately. No, he had to embarrass him, preferably in front of his father. "Yeah... that'll do." He said, reaching up to the grip of the sword, pulling it out an inch, and snapping the hilt right off. his body began to very slowly devour the metal for repairs, while he savagely beat the assassin to death with the broken hilt...

The Fortress of Doom, Location Unknown

January 5th, 2052 | 6:56am | Bank


A couple days passed. He'd returned to the fortress without a word, and people talked. Mostly sneers at his expense. Things got real quiet when he ignored them. He didn't lash out, or even acknowledge them. It was a little creepy, as normally he was incredibly easy to rile up. So something was obviously very wrong, and if Vortex was extremely upset, you left him alone if you didn't want to lose an arm. Some guy did get upset about not being answered and shoved him, and now he's at the chop-shop getting his fingers re-attached. In any case, the fortress had to wait, he had a fat wad of cash in hand, and he had business to attend to.

DATA CORRUPTED, USA

January 6th, 2052 | 3:01pm | Suburb


He stood across the street from a suburban home, dressed in a heavy trench coat. He didn't much like the look of them, but it was the only sort of garment that could hide his heavily modified form. There wasn't many people around at the moment. It was a school day, and many parents were off at work, perfect for his purposes. He sighed, stepping forward before vanishing into thin air. He reappeared inside the empty home, surveying the place. It was... Cozy. The furniture was soft and inviting, there was none of those fake-ass 'live, laugh, love' decorations. It could have been a home. He briefly clenched his talons, suppressing the urge to destroy it all. No. That wasn't what he was here for. He looked into the living room as his augments pinged. There was a camera set up in there. He sighed, there'd be none of that. He drew his gun, firing exactly one round. His body whirred with the effort as he carefully guided the bolt, directing the energy projectile into the camera. Small parts of it withered, enough to ruin it but not enough to cause too much damage.

'Safe', he stepped into the living room. There was a couch, a nice TV, a record player, a few Metallica posters here, an Iron Maiden poster there. But what was really of interest was the small 'memorial' set up in the corner. A large picture of a smiling man in military dress fatigues, a flag in a neat trifold, some medals... Several other pictures of him. More smiles, famous landmarks, concerts for tribute bands, family... He felt a terrible rage well up inside him, and before he could stop himself he's already driven his fist through the largest photo, the soft clink of jostled broken glass as he slowly withdrew his steel hand. "Hrm." He grunted. He had to leave. It was five minutes later that he'd teleported out of the home, naught but the damaged portrait, half a million dollars left on the dining room table, and the message 'I'M SORRY' scratched into the wood. Oh, and one missing record.

The Fortress of Doom, Location Unknown

January 8th, 2052 | 5:00pm | Empty Section


Things had gone back to normal on his latest return to the fortress. Nobody said anything about that business in Thailand, but that could be chalked up to people having new shit to talk about. Vortex himself had found himself occupied in the arena for the past couple days. After his... business concluded he was hungry for violence. He boxed, knocked a few teeth out, won some bouts, lost some, played some Mortal Kombat, had another boxing match, the guy brought up Thailand so he decided to practice Kano's fatality on him. Motherfucker had eight hearts so he'd live, though. He knew that, he was basically free to do whatever he wanted so long as he didn't do too much to piss off his superiors and, more importantly, obeyed rule number one: No killing Legionnaires, ever. An exception could be made for traitors, self defense and the like, but it was the one rule Vortex never broke. Hell, it was mostly self imposed. If he just killed his allies willy nilly what was to stop them doing the same to him? Maiming wasn't out of the question, though.

He wandered through the halls, nanites devouring the blood still on his arm as he looked through the various chambers for somewhere to just... relax, Record player under one arm and stolen record under the other. He could use his chambers, true enough, but he wanted to be somewhere he could just listen to the record uninterrupted. Really let the music seep in. Who knows what jackass would knock on his door howling about dismemberment this, overdue movies that. He froze when he heard sounds coming from an ostensibly empty room. Very subtle ones, but sounds nonetheless. There were life signs too, if his augments were right. Too big for rats. Intrigued, he decided to teleport in. He approached the door, dropping down so he could see under the door. He couldn't see... Well, anything of significance but it gave him the line of sight he needed to teleport.

There was a subtle thrum in the room Vera camped out in, and soon Vortex appeared, regarding the girl and her phone, as well as her pet. She'd likely be startled, but... he didn't really care. "What'chu doin' in here? Party's out there." He said casually, his tone one of curiosity more than interrogation. He took a seat at the wall across from her, setting his record player on the floor and popping it open, checking it over to make sure everything was in order. "Not sure I recognize ya. Beautiful lizard by the way, never seen one like it." He said, his enhanced eyes glowing eerily in the darkness. He didn't know her, but she probably knew him. He sounded sincere, and going by the news that was very odd for Vortex. He didn't wait for an answer as he looked over the record, clicking his tongue. "I ain't gonna bother ya or nuthin', just came in to listen to some tunes... Ever listen to Iron Maiden? Old band." He asked. He'd be unsurprised by a no, they were pretty much forgotten nowadays. He set the record on, and dragged the needle into place.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by Mistress Dizzy
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Mistress Dizzy Fandom Auntie Dizzy

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The only good thing about a lack of mission was the celebration afterward. Kijani enjoyed many of the facilities at the Legion base, including the pleasure clubs and the restaurants. There was debauchary everywhere, and she had to say she loved it. This was the natural state of things. Everyone would live this way if they had the opportunity - enjoying what they wished without fear of consequences. Whoever thought they were immune was just lying to themselves.

Kijani spent time after the mission decompressing on the dance floor. She was a vision in a glittering red top and short shorts. People stared. She knew she could have her pick of the various soldiers, supers and mercenary men tonight. But - tonight she had other plans. She wanted to watch someone burn. Yes, tonight was the night that Angela Manheim was going to get ousted. That "pretty lady" made Kijani's skin crawl in a way she couldn't explain. Normally, she'd admire a self-made woman. Running her own syndicate, rising to power - good stuff! But there was something so off about Angela's behavior and mannerisms that it did nothing but piss Kijani off.

Once she was done at the club, she went to her quarters. She showered and dressed in a pristine, professional black business suit, and went to watch the woman's trial. Once there, she felt almost sick that Angela's thoughts were very much like her own. She wanted something, so she took it, and to think otherwise was foolish. Damn - if only she was likeable.
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Chev The Pecking Order

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Justice League Watchtower

Velocity stared out the window as she thought about the chance that had been given to her. One week ago, she had been alone in her life and had thought that she was happier that way. Now she didn't know. Two days after the mission she had woken up in the med bay and had been confronted by the man at the time she hated nearly as much as she despised her parents. She had always wondered what she would say when she finally came face to face with him.

One Week Earlier
Medbay


Danielle Steel looked around in confusion. The last thing she remembered was getting aboard the Javelin or whatever they called the vehicle they had arrived on and then getting dizzy and then the floor getting really close to her. She had woken up a few minute ago and had no idea where she was aside from the fact it was obviously some sort of hospital. Is this some sort of Justice League hideout or something? She wondered as she looked around and saw a number of nurses and doctors walking around the bay. One of them finally noticed her trying to sit up in her bed. The nurse spoke quietly into a communications device and said something to a nearby doctor but all Velocity heard was the words she had spoken into the communicator. "She's awake"

The doctor came forward and gently eased her back to lay down on the bed. The doctor's name tag read, "Dr. Cross" and he was an older gentleman with shots of silver in his white hair. He also sported small black lenses over his eyes. Cross said, "Don't try getting up too fast. You pushed yourself hard down there. You might be a speed force conduit, but it can take a toll on your body when you haven't had the training. You almost went too fast for too long. Thankfully you're also healing at an accelerated rate but you should be on bed rest for at least a few days. We'll get you some food and water. You speedsters burn through energy quickly." The doctor gestured to a nearby orderly, who nodded and disappeared to fetch some food.
The doctor shined a small light in Danielle's eyes for a moment, turned it off then slowly waved it in front of her. Scanned her with a small medical device. He nodded and said, "Your cognitive functions seem nominal. So are vitals. You're in stable condition and there should be no lasting damage from the fight. We'll have you moved to a recovery room sometime today. Just don't try using your powers until you're fully recovered or you could go back to square one."
"I'm sure you must have some questions, so feel free to ask."

Danielle looked around in confusion and tried to make sense of her surroundings. "W-Where am I?" She asked carefully. She continued looking around for a possible escape route in case she had to leave in a hurry. The smell of food caught her attention a moment later as she turned in the direction the smell was coming from. "I...I guess I'm a bit hungry." She admitted as her stomach began to growl

Dr. Cross smiled and said, "You're on the Watchtower in the medbay. One of the most advanced medical facilities in the solar system. And I just happened to have patched up a few speedsters in my time. I used to be a bit of a costumed adventurer myself, when I was a young man. You're safe now, you're in good hands. And I bet you're more than a bit hungry. I've seen the Flash work through a whole taco truck like piranhas with a cow carcass after a big fight." The orderly returned with a cart piled high with food. Fruit, pancakes and toast, eggs and bacon, sausage and hashbrowns. A whole breakfast, and for more than one person. The nurse came back as well, adjusting the machine next to Danielle as Dr. Cross examined her chart, "You're still on pain medication for the wounds you suffered but you should be off of them by tomorrow. All in all, your prognosis is good." Dr. Cross tapped his ear and listened for a moment before turning back to Danielle, "If you're up for it, there's a visitor who wants to see you. Shall I send them in?"

Danielle stared at the cart piled with food with undisguised hunger. She was starving now that she thought about it. She barely heard him talk the watchtower or about the pain medications or the prognosis as she dug into the cart. She was halfway through some bacon she she finally heard him say that someone wanted to see her. She looked up from the plate of food and nodded. "Sure. Send them in." She said with a brief and small but noticeable smile.

Dr. Cross nodded, smiling back, "If you need anything else just press the call button and the nurse will be with you." Cross stepped out of sight as the nurse pulled privacy curtains around Danielle's bed, leaving her alone with the food for a moment. A second later the curtain parted and the Flash stepped in. Don Allen and his twin Dawn had become Flash and Streak respectively, and had together taken their father's place as the leading heroes of Central City while he was in semi-retirement. The Flash smiled slightly at Danielle and stepped in, "I've had a heck of a time trying to track you down all this time. Almost gave up. How are you feeling?"

Velocity was halfway through a pancake when she saw the man who was responsible for the accident that gave her her powers in the first place and she nearly fell out of the bed. "You..." She snarled angrily. "You stay away from me!" She snarled again as she grabbed a plate and threw it at him as heard as she could. Tears began to roll down her face. "Your the reason I'm a freak! My family abandoned me because of you!" She shouted angrily.

Flash sidestepped the tray in an almost imperceptible blur of movement. His trademark smile was gone, his eyes were full of remorse and regret. He said softly, "I'm sorry. I tried to save your life and I made a mess of it. I had no idea that giving you that shock would have activated your powers. There wasn't time to do a metagene analysis and I just... acted. I tried to find you afterward, but you were already gone. And here we are. Funny how things work huh?" By the look on his face, Flash didn't think it was funny at all. He walked slowly over to the bed, sat down on the far edge. He said, "If I could change what happened I would. But I can't. Doesn't usually work out well when you try to change the past, my dad would know. I can't give you your family back. But I can offer you a new home. Here, with the Justice League. You proved already you believe in fighting the good fight. You don't have to fight it alone. And I can help you. We can all help you. Jay, Barry, Wally, Jesse, Jai, me. You can be one of us. In control of your powers, able to harness the Speed Force instead of letting it run you." Don Allen looked Danielle in the eye, "You don't have to make a decision right now. And I'm not saying we can replace your loved ones. But we'll give you anything and everything you need to get you back on your feet. I promise you that."

Velocity turned to look at the Flash as he sat down on the far edge of her bed. "I...I wasn't expecting you to say that." She muttered. "I thought you were going to gloat or something that you managed to catch me. Listen...a part of me is pissed as hell right now. Not at you, but at my "loving" parents. They saw me at the hospital after the incident and decided they no longer wanted anything to do with me the minute they saw I had powers. They disowned me without a second thought and honestly I'm surprised you made the offer you did." She looked down. "I need time to think, but before I say or do anything I want to ask you a question: What would my life be like if I joined the league? Where would I live? What would I do besides fight crime?" She looked up at the Flash with tears in her eyes. "Listen...I had someone in my life before the...incident. I know that my past life is over. I can't ever go back. But I want to ask you something, are any of the people you've known in the past in danger because of your actions as the Flash? I'm not asking about my parents...as far as I'm concerned I'm done with them. But I want to make sure that the person I loved is safe. I've never gone back to the city after the incident but I want to know if she moved on...if she's safe"

Flash shook his head with an understated smile, "I've been accused of bragging often, but I never gloat. Especially not at times like this." He sighed, "It happens. Sometimes normal people can't handle people like us. We scare them. And not without reason. But we still help them."Flash looked back at Danielle smiling more openly now, "You'd have quarters here on Astrapolis. You won't have a massive suite or anything, but it'll have all the essentials. We'll pay you a salary, and you can use the services here. We've got quality stuff here, and cheaper than you'd think. Plus you can't beat the view. You'd also have a dorm earth-side, whichever Hall of Justice you end up being assigned. Central City most likely. And you don't have to just fight crime."

"There's lots of ways to help people without punching someone else. Humanitarian stuff, charity. And if you want, we can pay for you to finish school. You can get a degree. Work with us on all kinds of projects and fields. Or even go private sector if you choose to do so later. Heck I'm not a crime-fighter full time. I work in the scientific division as well, hard as that may be to believe. We won't decide your life for you, but we'll help you get a start. Help you find your way. A lot of metas have a hard time integrating into the world. We can help you do that. And even if you don't just us, we can still help you control your powers and get you a start."
Don looked into her eyes, nodded with understanding, "We do our best to protect ourselves and those we love. Close family gets the best in security technology. And even those of us who don't have a secret identity, the media and the governments often help us out by referring to us with code names or public identities only. All of our personal records are confidential. We minimize potential blowback as much as possible. It's easier for a lot of us now than it was in the old days, we tend to hang out and associate with others in the community more often than not. But there will be no public links to anyone you know from our end. As for Selena, don't worry. I've been checking up on her. She's doing just fine. Life is normal." "As for me, well if there's been any danger to people close to me, it's because they're in the game too. It's the family business after all."

Danielle stared at the Flash for a moment as his words hit her with the force of a punch to the face. Selena was okay. And if life was normal for her...then she must have moved on. She was hit by conflicting feelings upon her realization. A part of her, a rather large part of her was relieved that life had gone on for her without complications due to what had happened at the Flash museum. She was safe. But another part of her was hurt...well, devastated was a better word, a large part of what had given her life meaning was now lost to her forever. She shook her head as she wiped the newly forming tears away. She looked over at the Flash and smiled slightly. "I need some time to think about it. Give me a few days." She said quietly.

Flash nodded, stood, and said, "Take all the time you need. It took me a long time to learn this lesson, but one of the most important things to know as a speedster is when to slow down." He smiled softly at her once more and then he was gone, the curtain to her bed closing with a soft flutter as the Flash left Danielle alone with her thoughts.

Justice League Watchtower
Present day


The stars twinkled in the darkness of space as Danielle gave her decision some final thoughts. She had been staring out the window for a few hours now, in all honesty, she hadn't even noticed the hours go by as she thought about her conversation with the Flash a week earlier and her final decision. She could do more with the League then she ever could by herself. She had been lonely and angry for quite a long time, she had been without a family for a long time as well. She would always miss Selena and her friends but now she had the opportunity to become part of something greater. She could save those who couldn't save themselves. After she had woken up, she had heard the news of what had happened in Thailand. She wondered how many families had been ripped apart...how many men, women and children had been slaughtered in the attack and how many couples had been separated either by the chaos of the attack or by death. I can't let this keep happening to people. She thought as she rose to her feet and asked a technician if he had seen the Flash recently. After finding out that he had been seen in the mess hall no more then five minutes ago she headed in that direction. After entering the mess hall, she saw the Flash sitting behind an impressive plate of food. She sat down across from him and extended her hand. "I'm in." She said simply.

Flash had been sitting with his sister the Streak and his cousin Jesse Quick, all of them in understated funerary versions of their costumes after returning from Sandman's funeral. He smiled at Danielle and stood, reaching out his hand to grip hers in a firm handshake, "You'll get the official nod from the big 3 later on. But welcome to the League." His smile turned to a wide grin, "And if you're gonna run with us, you're gonna need a new suit."

Danielle thought about it for a moment. Her suit was a bit beaten up and had a few bullet holes in it. And it lacked many of the things that a Speedster would want, such as comfortable padding on the shoes. The thing had been made from scavenged resources and it was most likely going to be a reminder of a time in her life that she would much rather forget. "So...any ideas where I can get a new suit?" She asked As she looked over the two others besides the Flash. She was familiar with Streak but the other was unknown to her.
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A R S E N A L

The Watchtower

January 7th, 2052 | 1:39pm | Training Facility


The tension released, and a single arrow zipped through the air and impacted against the armor of a Peacekeeper. The bullets themselves impacted against the thin shield of energy protruding from Arsenal's cybernetic arm. As the Peacekeeper fell to the ground, a loud bell signaled. The ruined landscape of Star City (personally chosen by the archer himself) gave way to a starkly white room. Roy wiped the sweat from his brow, making his way idly out of the training room. The Peacekeepers were in a chipper mood, which was surprising given not a single one managed to even get a scratch on their trainer.

As he began to remove his kevlar vest, Roy heard the distinct ring of his commlink. As he checked it, the message confirmed his suspicions: the little Luthor wanted to talk. Roy quickly stripped down and hit the showers before getting back to his locker and changing into a red tracksuit. Roy kept the cybernetic arm on: he hadn't worn it in 4 months and needed to get used to the sensation of having two arms again.

It took a bit of time to get anywhere in the Watchtower. The streamlined design made traversal relatively easy, but this was a rather large establishment orbiting the Earth. The entire Justice League operated out of this facility in the end. Roy never believed Oliver's stories early on as his sidekick about the Justice League's base of operations. It was only after a brief visit while under the name "Speedy" that Roy got to see the glory that was the early Watchtower. It's only gotten more marvelous over time, Roy thought as he approached the office of Albert Luthor. He knocked on the door with his left hand, calling out, "Alright Luthor, I'm here for our little Fireside chat."




The intercom above Luthor's office door chimed, "I'll be with you in a moment Harper." A few seconds later, the door opened and out came a giant of a man. He was well over seven feet tall, with a broad muscled frame that strained the fabric of his JLU athletic shirt. Scars could be seen running across his arms, the veins in his right arm seeming to pulse with some kind of otherworldly energy. The League had inhumanly blue eyes that seemed to flicker and spark, and his hair was white as snow. He could be none other than Magog, one of the most infamous heroes of the younger generation. He smiled at Roy, reaching forward with his massive hand to grip Roy's cybernetic one, "Arsenal. Haven't seen you in a while. What brings you up here? I thought you liked it down on the ground. Came to spar?"

The younger Leaguer was known for his unorthodox, and sometimes brutal, tactics but he was quickly gaining prominence as one of the most visible of the so-called "New Breed" of heroes. He was also a known advocate for open war against both the Legion of Doom and the Shiruta Pact. As well as many other corrupt regimes and criminal syndicates. Despite his harsh methodology, he was effective and had quickly risen to a team leader.

Albert was standing in front of his desk in his office where a large bookshelf, a marble bust of Caesar, and a painting of Alexander the Great were prominently featured. Albert nodded at Roy, "May I offer you something to drink Roy?" Alfred was known for being consummately professional and nearly always having an immaculate appearance. And by no means did he appear improper. But those who knew him could see that he was more disheveled and tired than normal. It was clear he hadn't had much sleep.

Roy gave a brief nod to Albert. He knew him well enough to tell the younger member of the League was off, and given Roy's own experience with similar missions, felt he had a good idea as to why. "I may be older, but I could still kick your ass if we went all out, nerd." The usual playfulness Roy met most situations with was, of course, present in full force. But his face hardened slightly as his words began turning sour. "As for why I'm here, It's customary to visit the Watchtower from time to time as a member of the League. Especially when you're getting called back into active duty." The words oozed with bitterness... or perhaps, more accurately, pain. Roy gave a faint smile as he entered the office, closing the door behind him and striding straight towards the team leader. "You should know me well enough that you don't have to ask me for a drink, Albert. The usual: Whiskey, neat."

Magog laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked back at Arsenal, not saying anything as the door closed. Albert shook his head, "This kind of alpha male posturing is lost on me. Isn't fatherhood supposed to make you more humble?" Albert smirked as he prepared the drinks, "Especially with that one. He's strong. And doesn't have much restraint to go with it. I'd tread carefully around him. He'll want to take you up on that."

Albert finished with the drinks, getting the same as Roy, and holding the glass up, "To absent friends." He clinked the glass off of Roy's and sipped at the glass before putting it back down. Albert gestured to a nearby seat and sat on his desk, crossing his arms, "I actually wanted to talk to you about being activated. Robert and I agreed we could use you in the field. And the higher-ups signed off on it. They're forming a kind of task force. The Legion is getting bold, and it's time we started being more proactive. You're exactly the kind of Leaguer we need. After what happened in Mexico, it's clear we can't handle them with kid gloves anymore." Albert looked at Roy, "What do you say? I figured you'd like missions better than being on patrol duty."

Roy gave a slight nod as he clinked glasses with Albert. He listened intently, and once Al was finished with his speech, Roy took another sip of his whiskey. "Not all of those working for the Legion are the super villains I fought back when you were flashing your dad's money in elementary school. Some are just normal people. Those rebels in Thailand? I'm sure many wanted to make a difference for their country. So if we mobilized, we would have been killing innocents."

Roy took another sip, before looking Al directly in the eyes. "War isn't the moving of chess pieces. You are placing friends... fathers... in danger. You're playing with lives. You played with lives in Mexico. You went into an obvious trap, defied protocol, and now you've seen the consequences. If you want me on your team, you need to start thinking with your heart and your mind, not just that Luthor brain of yours."

Albert frowned, "Innocents is a stretch, Roy. But I can understand your reservations. We're not going to be dealing with revolutionaries and rebels, we'll leave that to the military-industrial complex. Our focus will be on countering the Legion's efforts to undermine the free world. And if possible, dismantle their organization and take them down before World War 3 breaks out."

Albert looked Roy back in his eyes, "I'm aware of the shortcomings of the mission. But we had to act. There was nothing else to do but go in. And if we had delayed, who knows how many more people would have died in their labs? But regardless I'm not... unaware of the toll it took. We lost good men down there." Albert drained his glass and stood, looking out the window at Earth, "Believe me when I know war is no game. You and I both saw friends and comrades fall during E-Day. The piles of dead in the streets. The children left orphaned. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. All gone. Believe me, I know." He looked back at Roy, "I'm willing to do what it takes to keep that from happening again, stopping the slaughter before it even starts. But it's going to be dangerous. To our lives and who we are. That's why I need you. Not only for your experience, I need a level-headed perspective. We need strength and compassion both. Or else we'll lose our way. Too many of us, like Magog, already think more like soldiers than peacekeepers."

"Help me end this war. Or everything we know could come to an end."

Roy watched Albert carefully, and then downed his whiskey. "Alright, Albert. I'm in. A special strike team sounds interesting. Send me the files of the others... and if any need training, I can provide assistance. I'll be spending most of my waking hours here anyways... my daughter is a little upset about me getting involved in the war again."

Albert nodded back, "I will. A lot of old hands will be in here. Some of them you already know. Jason Todd. Donna Troy. Raven. But we have a lot of fresher faces too." Albert started tapping at his terminal, collating the personnel files to forward to Roy, "Lian has a lot of potential. There's murmurs among the Academy faculty that she should be moved to a top class. They'll finish their education here on Astrapolis, but they can start patrol duty and other apprenticeships with full members. We have a lot of bright kids moving into this class. Impulse, Starboy, Aquagirl, and so on. Your niece Arrowette. I think she'd be a good addition to the dynamic. But only with your consent of course. If you're ok with it, I could bring it to Jefferson Pierce and he'll fast track her into the program."

Roy sighed. He knew this day would come. "It'll be Lian's choice. She will most certainly say yes. When off-duty, I would like to be recommended as an instructor for the fast-tracked students. My resume and students speak for themselves... but quite frankly, I know you and the others will do what's best for my daughter."

He gave a small smile, however, in regards to the possibility of working with some old friends. "Donna, Jason, and Raven? You're just trying to get my old band back together, aren't you Albert? We always were the best generation of heroes."

Albert smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure Pierce will ok it. He's done nothing but sing your praises as instructor at the Bay Area Academy. I'm sure she'll love being up here in Astrapolis too. But don't worry. It's going to be routine duty. Patrol duty, charity work, the kind of stuff we did when we were starting out. And they'll always be with an experienced Leaguer. She's going to excel. Make us all proud I'm sure."

At that, Albert had to smirk, "If by best you mean most dysfunctional then certainly. But you guys got stuff done, I'll have to admit. Even if you are all getting a bit on years." Albert smiled, "It'll almost be like old times. When you guys were helping me and my generation through the Titans. Except now we'll show you how it's done."

Albert stood up and gave a slight nod, meeting Roy with a handshake. "Welcome back Arsenal. Let's get to work."

The Watchtower

January 7th, 2052 | 2:35pm | Training Facility


Roy maneuvered his way through the Watchtower, eventually reorienting himself as he meandered to the Equipment Lab. During his early days as a Leaguer, he practically had lived here. The technology had quite developed by this point, to the point where it was practically unrecognizable. But a familiar figure navigating the equipment was all Roy needed to see. He called out, rather louder than anticipated. "Ahhh, Dr. Kord... it's been quite a while."

Dr. Samantha Kord, or Sam as her friends called her, turned around and smiled widely at Roy. Her brown hair was cut short, her green eyes lit with warmth as she came forward to embrace Roy in a tight hug. As Ted Kord's eldest child, she had been one of the first members in the Teen Titans. Though she had never mastered the Scarab, she was a technical genius and had helped provide the team with much of their equipment. Now she was one of the League's most prominent engineers.

Sam squeezed Roy and laughed, "Roy! It's so good to see you! It's been way too long. You never come by you jerk. And it's Sam for you. I get enough of Dr. Kord from the assistants." Sam withdrew from Roy and seemed to appraise him for a moment, "You look good Roy. Looks like all that exercise has been paying off. So, what can I do for a friend that never visits?" She grinned at Roy, the atmosphere as relaxed and simple between the two friends as if it had been a day rather than more more than a year.

Roy gave a small smile. He forgot how much he missed the energy Sam always brought to the table, especially on the old team. The two spent a lot of time together crafting various gadgets and tools. And this expertise is what the Scarlet Archer was hoping to draw on. "I'm going back into active duty, so I'm hoping to get outfitted in some more... updated equipment." He gave a flash of his bright white teeth, his signature move when he was a strapping young hero.

Sam smirked, "Ah that's it. You only like me for my gear huh? I'll let you get away with it since you're still cute somehow." Sam had been somewhat mousy when they were all teens and hadn't attracted much romantic notice from heartthrobs like Roy or Dick. But she had obviously been a late bloomer, and exuded more confidence. She gave Roy a once over, tapped her chin for a moment and said, "I think I have just the thing. I was working on some prototypes for the other Arrows but I think I could fabricate you some new toys. Step into my office."

She lead Roy deeper into the tech lab, passing by numerous other engineers who were testing out state of the art equipment for the Justice League. The JLU was on the bleeding edge of tech development and it showed. Eventually they reached a fabricator and Sam tapped away on the panel. Moments later several pieces of equipment slid out onto an attached table. Sam picked up several armor pieces and said, "This is our new lightweight ceramic with form-fitting armor weave for those of you who like to move around. It'll give you greater mobility without sacrificing mobility. It'll stand up to small arms and blades just fine and it'll self-repair given the proper time, but don't get cocky. I'll make sure to have it painted red. Just one of many different armor permutations we can make for you."

Sam smiled as she picked up what looked to be a small metallic case, "This beauty is my own design. She has a mag-attachment that will grip right onto your armor, no strap needed. But the real genius is how she works. You can store your arrows there, but this quiver can fabricate new arrows for you on the go. You can feed it raw materials in order to convert that into fab-gel, and as long as you have gel you can keep making trick arrows. It'll cut down on weight considerably while still giving you a combat edge. Though you'll need different kinds of material to make special arrows, and those schematics will be linked to your HUD. Regular old arrows can be made all day from anything though."

The engineer picked up a red visor, "Speaking of your HUD, this will help you keep track of your arrows and gel levels and also help you calculate all kinds of factors for marksmanship. Distance, wind speed, you name it. Several different vision modes as well. It'll help protect you from flashbangs or dazzler lights and you can access the JLU database and make video calls. Plus it's in your favorite color." She paused, looking Roy over briefly. "I've got more toys, but what are you thinking so far? Interested?"

Roy was absolutely beaming at the tech. More advanced than he usually worked with... granted, Roy was the kind of person who could make himself lethal to the common soldier with just a paperclip, a rubber band, and a couple pebbles. He looked Sam over with slight awe. "I need to come visit more often. This is amazing. Mobility is obviously crucial to my fighting style, and these tools are just perfect. The Arrow Family should have just hired you full time to make our toys."

Sam smirked, "Flattery will get you everywhere Harper. But since I'm awesome, this is all paid for by the JLU, no need to hire me. Though you could take me out to dinner sometime." Sam laughed and said, "Since you like that, I'll show you the other stuff." Sam crossed over to a bench and picked up a high-tech collapsible crossbow, light enough to be held in one hand.

"This can be your backup piece. It'll have a mag-holster, so you can strap it wherever you want and it comes with another fabricator quiver for bolts. You can definitely get good quickdraw shots with this. But you'll always have a few of these babies."
Sam picked up a tech bolt and loaded it into the crossbow then she aimed it at a metal target and pulled the trigger. Instead of releasing the bolt, a laser beam fired out, hitting the steel, melting through within seconds and scything the sheet in half. The bolt snapped out with a hiss and Sam said, "Pop one of those in and you have a laser gun as long as you have charge."

She pointed out a bandoleer and said, "This I had in mind for you. It will include several grenades, mines, remote explosives and what not in case your arrows don't pack the punch. You can load them right into your arm's grenade launcher if you need further range too. It also includes a fabricator, but the smaller size means they won't resupply as quickly. You have all the standard utility and survival equipment too. And I included some knives, all mono-molecular, in case you wanted to show off."

"I can start designing some alternate suits for different mission types, but this is a good all-purpose suit for most missions." Sam crossed her arms with a grin, "Even better than when we were Titans huh?"

Roy looked over the equipment, weighing it in his hands and observing it all carefully. He was clearly invested in the equipment presented. He rarely turned his eyes towards Sam, instead focusing in on the intricacies. Very few things actually surprised or captured the attention of Arsenal, and yet somehow this tech managed to do just that. He even wore the bandoleer to get a feel for its weight, and fabricated a mono-molecular knife. He tossed it into the air and caught it, twirled it around his fingers and hand, before setting it down on the table. He was like a kid in a candy shop. So it took a moment for the older man to respond.

When Roy did respond, he looked Sam in the eyes and gave a genuine smile. His eyes lit up, and his smile turned into his typical smirk. "I owe you a lot more than dinner for this, Sam. It's all absolutely... remarkable. It fits perfectly, and will make me a force to be reckoned with on assignment. New tech, older man." He gave a small chuckle before removing the bandoleer and setting it down. "To talk business, I'm looking for a more subtle version of the suit. An infiltrator version, if you will. On the other hand... keep in mind designs for extreme environment versions." A small beeping came from Roy's watch. With a quick tap on the small interface, a notification flashed and the Scarlet Archer sighed. "Shit, almost forgot about conferences..." Roy looked up at Sam and gave an apologetic smile. "I'll message you ideas later, but we seriously need to catch up sometime." In a bold move, the once-suave archer gave Sam a quick hug followed by a quick, playful peck on the cheek. In an even bolder move, he immediately began dashing away with a quick wave of his cybernetic arm before Sam could even process what had just happened.

Star City, California

January 8th, 2052 | 5:15pm | Roy's Study


Roy leaned back at his desk, rubbing his temples. He was finishing up a pile of work that had accumulated in the past week for his day job as a member of the Board for his father's company. It was work that bored the adventurous Arsenal, but Roy Harper needed to earn his keep at the Queen Mansion. Oliver and the others were still out due to the funeral, and Oliver took Lian to visit some of his old friends and spend time in Metropolis for the night. Decades prior, it would have been dangerous to leave Speedy alone to his own devices in such a decadent mansion. Times had changed since then.

On his desk were files upon files of papers, Roy's attempt to get around digital eye strain by shifting to paper documents from time to time. The one in front of him at the moment, however, was a JLU file. A certain cybernetics genius who had recently been brought into the fold, and a candidate for Percy's secret task force. A curious candidate given the shotgun JLU status, but someone who could had great potential.

What was more interesting for Roy Harper, however, was the good doctor's former works. So Roy began to tap away on a tablet lying on his desk, preparing a message for Dr. Albrecht.



Collab with @MrDidact, Interaction with @Freeshooter92
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T O X I N


Toxin's Chemistry Lab,
The Justice League Watchtower


When not on a mission, she was Hannah. She would be found in her lab, away from everyone else usually. Tonight was no different. She had been finding it hard to shake the feelings of failure since she was scolded over her actions on the mission. She kept replaying the conversation in her mind, her confidence was damaged. She had always been one to excel in the field, to follow instruction to the letter, she didn't know why it had been so different on the last one.

She sighed and ran her hands through her hair, her laptop playing a melancholy ballad softly in the background, her python, Amadeo curled up around her feet. She couldn't quite focus on the papers she was reading. Something about what they had found in Mexico. She was reading it, but it simply wasn't sinking in. The words were being read and then discarded before being processed. It was a strange feeling for her, normally she had such a strong understanding of anything she read. But now, there was a turmoil within her. Pangs of guilt. Someone could have been hurt... she thought to herself, growing tense again. Amadeo sensed it, and raised his head, eyes glued to hers.

"I'm alright..." She said to him, his tongue flickered out momentarily before he lowered his head once more. Even this was madness, she hadn't spoken to anyone since receiving the lashing - just Amadeo, and he couldn't exactly talk back.

"What am I going to do?" she asked the Python. He didn't respond.

"I could just go and speak to Perseus himself... I just want to know that it's all okay now, you know?". Amadeo remained silent and unmoved.

"No. He's much too busy for me."

"I could go and see Therma. I know she was in trouble too... But I bet it would just become a pity party for the two of us, wouldn't it?"

"I mean... I wasn't even trying to be reckless on purpose. I just thought I was helping. Those people were in so much pain..."

She thought back to them - their faces. It was their eyes -- wide and horror struck. She had thought about them every day since returning. Finally, she inhaled deeply and let her focus drift to the window. Soft snow was gathering on the windowsill, it was peaceful outside, at least. Civilians were still on a high from the festivities. People were still full of joy and anticipation for the year to come, Hannah wished she could feel the same.

"I suppose that all I can do is work. I can put this all behind me if I can work out these compounds and present something useful." She sat up, and gently uncoiled Amadeo from her feet. He was heavy, he had been given a generous feed for Christmas and New Year. Being moved elicited another movement from him, he booped at Hannah's arms with his nose playfully. "What would I do without you?" she asked, and once again, the Python did not respond.

She made her way over to her desk. Ready to do something. She placed the papers out in front of her, and got to work.


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"Got it! Everyone! Gather behind me!"

As what Peacekeepers remained got to work freeing the civilians, Aken shifted his shield's focus to the front line, covering his allies and the civilians from any stray gunfire while they beat a hasty retreat. Aken kept his shield up as the prisoners headed for the elevator shaft. While the Peacekeepers covered his back, he loaded the prisoners onto a rudimentary elevator that fit into the shaft. Aken flew into the elevator shaft, closed the bright green doors made of light and brought the entire thing up and out of the lab.

The rest of the mission was a blur. After the prisoners had been brought to safety, he'd gone back down to help the other Peacekeepers clean up. Rounded up escaping soldiers and sent them off to Peacekeeper trucks to be carted off to some prison to be processed. Watched as Perseus brought in their super villain targets. Dismantled the operation as best as he could and contained a few stray explosions from chemical spills and electrical fires. Once that was done, he followed the rest of the Leaguers into space and to the Tower for the debriefing.

--

The Green Lanterns had appeared in force at the funeral of Wesley Dodds. The Sandman had been an ally of Alan Scott, and both his son and grandson had fought with the other Earth-based Lanterns on numerous occasions. It was only right that they stood vigil for him now in Valhalla. Besides Alan Scott and Hal Jordan, John Stewart, Guy Gardner, Kyle Rayner, Simon Baz, and Jessica Cruz were all present. And of course, Kai-Ro and Aken Sur. Not all of them were active in the Corps any longer, not all even had rings any more. But once a Lantern, always a Lantern. And the Corps remembered their friends. As the coffin was lowered into the ground they all bowed their heads and recited a soldier's prayer for Wesley, one that stretched back to the beginning of the Corps. They stood silently until the ceremony was finally complete.

--

On the Watchtower, Kai-Ro led Aken Sur away from all the others as they returned via zeta beam. The young monk gripped Aken's shoulder and said, "I sense you are troubled. These recent events weigh heavily on your mind Aken. Please, do not keep your troubles bottled within. We are brothers-in-arms and I would hear your concerns voiced."

Aken's lips were drawn in a tight, thin line. He was troubled indeed, not just by the death of one of Earth's oldest heroes, but by what he'd seen in that lab. As Kai-Ro led him away, he sighed and shook his head. "It's...these people do not deserve to be treated like laboratory animals. What I saw in that facility..."

Kai-Ro nodded gravely, "I saw the footage. It is a terrible atrocity what the Legion has done and will continue to do. This is the result of avarice and greed unchecked Aken. Pure corruption. But this is exactly what we as Lanterns and as members of the Justice League, have doubly vowed to fight." Kai-Ro was roughly the same age as Aken Sur, but the wisdom in his eyes made him seem far older.

He had trained as a monk in Nanda Parbat since birth, and had honed his mind and his body with martial arts and meditative discipline. When his home had been attacked by the League of Shadows during his youth, his resolve and strength of will had attracted the attention of a Green Lantern Ring and he had fought for Justice ever since, standing shoulder to shoulder with Superman and the other mighty heroes. That same resolve manifested itself now as Kai-Ro spoke.

"We will see many more horrible things. But we must not let this horror sap our will. Instead, let it galvanize us. Give us the strength to keep protecting the innocent and to do everything in our power to stop the Legion. We shall pierce this darkness, as long as we are willing to stand for the light." Kai-Ro closed his eyes for a moment, "I saw many friends twisted by the League of Shadows into monsters for their army. I will not let this happen to more innocents. Stand strong Aken, for the people. And stand strong for your comrades and friends, who are beside you always."

Aken nodded and tried to compose himself. He took a few deep, slow breaths and calmed himself, just like Kai-Ro had taught him, his fists clenching and unclenching slowly. "Yes, Kai-Ro. I understand. But...where else will we fight? I cannot just stand by and allow these...atrocities to happen."

Kai-Ro was silent for a moment, leaned in and said softly, "I've heard it said that command is forming a special strike force. Veterans and experienced fighters forming covert teams to strike the Legion and dismantle their operations. They're taking a more proactive stance now that it seems the Legion is building an army. I've heard it said Perseus was going to be one of the coordinators of this strike force. I will be too busy with normal duties. But perhaps you would like to join this enterprise?"

"I must warn you friend, that you are likely to encounter more such atrocities if you do join. The teams will delve into darkness, and must be prepared for all that entails."

"Then...if the Light itself wills it, I will go. But... I will need a while to meditate on what I've seen."

Aken walked along the Tower hallway next to his friend, deep in thought. Taking up the mantle of his grandfather wasn't as easy as he'd first thought, even though he'd proven himself to the Light and those who wielded the Rings in their honor. It felt as if the shoes he'd chosen were so vast, he'd spend his entire life trying to fill them.

"Kai-Ro...you have been a Lantern for longer than I have. How do you cope with all of this madness?"

Kai-Ro replied, "I have. The elders at the monastery spoke of tranquility, detachment. Some truly mastered this art. But I have not. I feel sorrow and regret for every life lost in this endless battle of light and dark. Meditation and peace provide much, but for me they only went so far." At this, the other Lantern smiled at Aken, "Inner will alone can be limited. It has been the friends I've made along the way, those who are as family to me now, that have allowed me to keep fighting. Along with the knowledge that though this is an endless fight, it is a worthwhile one. For every child who can grow without fear. For every innocent spared suffering. For every ember of goodness spread into the world. We have a purpose Aken. A calling. And that certainty has been an immense help to me."

"I... I suppose that is correct too, Kai-Ro. I am just...not used to all of this."

Aken returned the smile and shook his head.

"It is... So much has been going on. After I gained my ring, I felt like I had to retake my grandfather's mantle so quickly and learn so much in such a little time. I'm thankful that you were there to tutor me though. To give me a direction."

Kai-Ro clasped Aken's shoulder, "I remember when I was in a similar situation. Barely more than a child. Thrust into a role of defense of not just my home but of the world. If it wasn't for my mentors in the Justice League, I wouldn't have succeeded. And I am honored to help light your path. For I see great potential in you Aken, if you have the will to keep walking this path. And I will be beside you always."

"Do you wish to meditate together friend, or would you rather be alone?"

"I suppose... We can meditate together."

Kai-Ro smiled warmly, "Come. The world is troubled. But perhaps we can find a measure of peace, if only for just a moment. It is in such moments that the spirit is rejuvenated. And the will to fight is tempered even further." The monk led his friend to the meditation chamber and crossed into a lotus position as he floated in the air with the help of his ring. Together they faced the blue visage of Earth. Even though violence and discord blighted parts of the world, it was reassuring to see that for the most part, absolutely nothing was happening.
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