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The man without fear, only in space. And a cop.

As discussed on the Discord server, I'll be dropping both Spidey and Flash, on account of struggling with writing them and finding the motivation for it. If anyone's interested in Peter, feel free to handwave my posts as non-canon. Have at it.

In the meantime, I'll be thinking of another concept I can bring to the table.
H E L L F I R E

T H E S A N C T U A R Y

July 3rd, 2020 | The Gymnasium

Andy returned Tachyus’ grin. “I think the holograms get projected over some sort of alloy body. Batman used one to test out my powers.”

Tachyus then proceeded to ask about his abilities. Andy gave one of the dummies’ heads a nudge with his foot, watching it curiously as it swayed backwards and forwards. Its movement gave him something to focus on as he tried to think of the best way to explain his powers; even with the help that Bruce had enlisted through Ryan Choi and Firestorm, Andy only had a basic grasp on how they worked. He absently scratched a spot on his chest, red singlet creasing around his fingers, and attempted to make some sort of sense as he spoke.

“Well, the way I understand it, my body’s basically a fusion reactor, creating the same sort of energy that suns do. When I use my powers, I use up a fraction of that energy, and if I use ‘em enough then I get pretty tapped out. So I guess they have an effect on my physical strength in that they sap it, but I dunno about boosting it or anything. The worst I’ve experienced is when my powers activated, and I ended up feeling weak and sick for the next couple of days.”

He chuckled.

“Making a miniature sun does that to you, I guess.”

H E L L F I R E

T H E S A N C T U A R Y

July 3rd, 2020 | The Gymnasium

Stepping onto the gymnasium’s vinyl flooring, Andy and Magnus’ conversation was cut short before it could begin as their eyes settled upon a scene unlike any Andy had been expecting: Tachyus in basketball shorts, drenched in sweat and surrounded by what used to be training dummies. A small whistle of appreciation escaped Andy’s lips, making a note not to get on the demi-god’s bad side as he surveyed the full extent of the damage. Walking gingerly among the debris, a part of him wondered how fast you had to be moving to make steel splinter, fragments of the dummies’ metal supports staring sharply at his exposed feet.

“Uhm... sorry. The training grounds on Themyscira are made of... sturdier stuff,” said Tachyus, a sheepish smile on his face.

Andy could probably guess what was going through the demi-god’s head at the moment, what with him being the only one to require medical care out of a plethora of other, comparatively untrained teens. He seemed to have a lot in common with Juno in that regard; both spent their entire lives preparing for this sort of thing, and they both held themselves to a really high standard. From what Andy could tell, this made their egos to grow large and wonky – so at times like these, when their foundations were cracked, it was better to give them support than to risk stoking the flames.

“Oh, don’t sweat it, man,” responded Andy, meeting the demi-god’s small smile with his own. “You were just, uh… just letting your frustrations out. I get it. No biggie. Guess we should probably get some of those holographic dummies the League uses, though, huh?”
H E L L F I R E

T H E S A N C T U A R Y

July 3rd, 2020 | 6:31p.m. | Happy Harbour, Rhode Island

In the face of the Team’s sombreness on the way back from town, Andy kept a mostly positive demeanour. He understood why everyone else was unhappy with the way things went down at the mall – between the Jokerz getting the jump on them and Quickling getting hospitalised, he was pretty bummed, too – but if there’s one thing that Bruce had taught him that’s actually stuck, it’s that you should learn from your mistakes, but not dwell on them. Yes, what happened kind of sucked, but it would do none of them any good to wallow in it. It was better to get home, eat some dinner, and make sure that tomorrow would be a better day. If there was anything that Damon’s death had taught him, it was that.

Dinah seemed to echo Andy’s thoughts, not overwhelmingly happy with the way the Team handled things, but otherwise pretty chill about it. He liked her and Ollie; while the latter was often busy with his duties as Star City’s mayor, they both brought an air of levity to the base that Andy felt would be sorely missing if someone like Bruce was the Team’s caretaker, treating their position not as a job but as a passion. They seemed to genuinely like the teens, and didn’t restrict their interactions to just lectures and briefings, mingling with them as parents or older siblings would.

When the question of food was asked, Andy didn’t hesitate to answer with his cooking. After living with his dad for all these years, the two had chicken parma down to a science – with Andy’s mum out of the picture, there was no one to stop them from religiously eating their favourite meal, and so Chicken Parma Tuesday had extended into Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and onwards. Was it healthy? Probably not. But as he could tell from the Team’s expressions when they ate, damn, was it good. He wasn’t one to flatter himself often (That’s a lie), but tonight’s dinner was something he allowed himself to be proud of, Magnus’ steak and Rannik’s salad included.

Oh, and Steph helped too, he supposed.

With dinner out of the way, Andy turned his attention to training. Even though Dinah said that they’d “work out the kinks” tomorrow, he was of the opinion that some exercise to get today out of everyone’s minds might be a good idea, even if it was something small and fun like dodgeball. He threw the option out there, giving his teammates the option to bite.

“Um. Andy?” Kassy said, “Can I… join you if it wouldn’t be in the way?”

Andy gave Kassy a reassuring smile. She’d struck him as nervous, almost insecure, when the Team had first come together two weeks ago, and since then he’d given it his best to make her feel welcome. He was pretty confused why she lacked so much confidence. Yeah, she might’ve been new to this whole hero thing, but compared to the rest of the Initiative’s roster, so was Andy – and thanks to her quick thinking today, she’d bought the Team enough time to regroup and take out the Dee Dees, an advantage that helped speed up what would otherwise have been a lengthy fight. She needed to give herself more credit.

“Sure can, Kass. Actually, I insist.” He flashed a grin. “Can’t have you stay here and watch the Avengers all by yourself.”

After thanking him and Steph for dinner, Juno, ever the “professional”, suggested the Team train in tactics so as to prevent a repeat of the day’s events. While it wouldn’t stop everyone from thinking about it, as Andy had intended, he couldn’t deny that it was a good idea.

“No worries, Juno. And good idea. Might as well put it to a vote once everyone that wants to is down at the gym.”

With that he made his way to the gym, Magnus already quite a ways ahead. The towering wolfman, now just a man, walked with an air of intensity that radiated in volumes, eager to get started. His focus on action, on keeping on the move, was something that Andy admired, and was also a little unnerved by – it seemed as though he had little to no time for relaxation, for just being, and it was because of this that Andy found himself comparing him to Bruce, if the Dark Knight had deep-seated anger issues and an apparent bloodlust.

“Hey, big man,” said Andy as he stepped into next to Magnus, his bare feet appearing tiny next to his. “The others should be down soon. How’re you holding up tonight?”
My power's been out since yesterday. I will hopefully have it back at some point today.

No worries!
Mostly written by @BlackSam3091
E P I S O D E O N E : S T R O K E O F M I S F O R T U N E
DOWNTIME

T H E S A N C T U A R Y

July 3rd, 2020 | 6:30p.m. | Mount Justice, Rhode Island

The Dee Dee Twins might have been cunning, they might have been brutal, and they might have been savage, but even the twins themselves didn’t think for one minute that they could take the entire Team and win. Without the support of the other Jokerz, the gang-leaders were quickly surrounded and overwhelmed, an unsurprising end to the day’s work. The Gotham crazies had bitten off more than they could chew, and would pay for that mistake through lengthy jail sentences. The Team remained on the scene until the proper authorities had cleaned up the mess left behind, before Superboy led them home, picking up a recovered Quickling on the way.

The Team entered the Sanctuary, hidden away inside the ancient stone of Mount Justice, before heading towards the meeting chamber. A large table, constructed from dark hardwood and darker stone, dominated the room. Upon its centre was emblazoned the symbol of Young Justice, the Initiative’s initials immortalised by the carving on the table’s surface. Around the table were several chairs, enough for the entire team, and with more to spare.

The room wasn’t empty when they arrived. Waiting for them was the retired heroine, Dinah Lance-Queen, former Black Canary and current ‘den-mother’ to the Young Justice team. Despite no longer being an active super hero, she was still an attractive woman, supremely fit and possessed of a bouncy energy that belied her years. She moved with the grace of a dancer, always upon the balls of her feet and perfectly in balance. She stood up from her seat as the team entered, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she watched the young heroes enter.

“I watched you guys on the news. You looked good.”

“Thank you, we – ” Conner began to reply, but Dinah quickly cut him off.

“Good, not great. Decidedly sloppy in places. You all definitely need work, but there’s the beginnings of something special here. I need to speak to Conner about your training going forwards, so why don’t you all take the night off. Relax. We’ll get back to it fresh tomorrow, and see if we can’t start to work out those kinks.” She smiled once more, nodding towards the door in a clear dismissal. The kids trooped out into the hall, leaving Dinah and Conner alone in the meeting room.

The first thing on the agenda was dinner. A keen, if amateurish cook, Andy fixed everyone some chow, enlisting Steph’s help to divide the workload – chicken parma with salad for most, a hefty salad for Rannik, and a gigantic rib eye steak for Magnus. With it served, the teens sat around the lounge, Avengers: Infinity War playing in the background as they ate. Robert Downey Jr. was getting slammed into the ground by Josh Brolin’s CGI fist when Andy stood, his plate licked clean.

“Right. Well, that was delicious. Compliments to the chef,” he smirked. “Anyone want to head down to the gym? Training or dodgeball, take your pick.”

H E L L F I R E

W E I S M A N S T R E E T M A L L

July 3rd, 2020 | 3:31p.m. | Happy Harbour, Rhode Island

Hellfire’s history with the Jokerz was a short and curse-filled affair. When he’d graduated from training with Bruce, transitioning from his amateurish attempt at vigilantism – which had been constrained to two city blocks – to the “big time”, he found operating alongside Batman to be a sobering experience. It was with Bruce that he’d seen his first dead body, under his watchful eye that he’d apprehended his first powered thugs; he’d been witness to much of man’s depravity alongside the Dark Knight, stopping more would-be thieves, murderers and rapists in one night than most kids his age would ever run into. It affected him at first, as it would affect anyone, but as night turned into day he’d been able to move past any trauma that Gotham threw his way. He still felt anger at the crimes, still felt his chest flare and his hands shake when he saw someone hurting another, but he figured that as long as people like him – better people, like Batman and Superman and Wonder Woman – existed, then at least there was something being done about it. But the Jokerz… the Jokerz had a special place in the dark side of Andy’s heart.

They were a goddamn pain in his arse.

He’d first run into them eight months ago, a few weeks after his sixteenth birthday – the Dee Dees and co. had been terrorising a low-income apartment block in the Bowery, as if its poor tenants didn’t have enough problems to worry about, and Hellfire had gotten there only moments before Batman and Robin… enough moments to show him why he should never let his guard down around them. They were a sadistic, unpredictable bunch, and if it hadn’t been for Andy’s powers it would’ve been him that was toast – but there was more than that. For a group called “the Jokerz”, their jokes sure weren’t worth a damn, haunting his dreams with their disappointing, irritating punchlines for what seemed like every time he closed his eyes.

Ever since that encounter, he’d run into those clowns on a number of occasions, getting familiar with their annoying tendencies to be the absolute worst, having themselves become familiar with him, coming to display an unsettling kind of joy whenever they clashed. Seeing how excited they were to run into their “favourite toaster” today had made him sick to his stomach.

Packed in with his teammates and encircled by the Jokerz, Andy looked to Superboy for direction. He had half a mind to hit the mook in front of him with a shot to the groin, but he couldn’t allow himself to do that just yet – while his instincts screamed at him to get moving, he all too often listened to them without giving his head a say, and right now his head wanted to see what the Team’s leader would do.

“Dee Dee,” said Superboy, “I don’t know where you’ve been… but we’re as big time as it gets.”

It was then that Chucko flew back into the Kord Store, Superboy launching him into the air with a powerful swing.

Hellfire grinned beneath his mask. Nice.

Shot to the groin it is.

His foot collided with the henchclown’s pelvic region, folding the goon in half with a pained wheeze; Andy almost winced, too, but overcame his discomfort with a knee to the chin, bringing his other leg up to knock the clown out. In those short seconds, Quickling had come thundering out of the Kord Store, tripping over Chucko’s outstretched arm. Twilight had split off from the Team, rushing to help a group of stragglers that Tachyus must’ve missed as they were attacked by three mooks. To Andy’s right was Fenrir, the canine teen struggling with Bonk, beast vs. brute in a savage exchange of blows. His would-be prey – the Dee Dee twins – smirked in self-assured relief, happy to keep their skin connected to bone, and turned their attention to Hellfire.

“Hey, handsome,” giggled one of them, “Do you mind if we get some marshmallows? I’m in the mood for a roast.”

“Sure,” he assented through gritted teeth, “As soon as you get better jokes.”

Experience had taught him that taking the twins on solo wasn’t a smart thing to do. They were agile as anything, flipping and cartwheeling and tumbling their way through your defences, working in almost perfect unity to gain the upper hand. Their unpredictability worked to their advantage, never falling into a pattern, keeping their opponents on edge – and just when you managed to sneak a hit in, they’d play their trump card, duplicating before you could take them out of the playing field. The only way one could hope to stop them from multiplying was to knock them out as soon as possible, but to do that would take power and speed that Hellfire didn’t have. A burst of solar energy would solve that problem, but he refused to use it here, packed as tightly as he was with the rest of his teammates – not to mention the level of injury that he could subject the twins to. The muggers who’d attacked him on the night he got his powers had lost their eyesight on account of the miniature sun’s brightness alone; while more extreme than a burst of flame, he couldn’t take that chance with someone as unprotected as the Dee Dees.

So – a different approach, yeah?

“Avatar, Batgirl, Mirage,” he called to the only heroes that were yet to occupy themselves, “Help me out here. These two’ll duplicate if we don’t take ‘em down fast enough, and I don’t exactly like the idea of burning them to a crisp. We have to hit hard and fast, so uh… yeah. That’s all I’ve got.”

“Aw,” said a Dee Dee twin, “The toaster’s too scared to take us all on his own? Colour me disappointed.”

“That’s okay, hot stuff,” said the other, “It’s only natural to be scared.”

Andy could barely stop himself from gagging. God, you’re the worst.”

As he lunged forward, it crossed his mind that this might prove to be a little therapeutic.

@Heat Sad to see you go, I was looking forward to seeing how you integrate Ozy into everything. We'll hopefully see you around sometime, though!


C H A P T E R O N E : T H E D O G B I T E S B A C K
THE NARROW ESCAPE PROBLEM

N . Y . P . D . M I D T O W N N O R T H P R E C I N C T

November 13th, 2017 | 12:00a.m. | Manhattan, New York City

After interviewing upwards of three dozen eyewitnesses, Detective Flash Thompson could finally go home.

Tonight was a “quick shift” from four p.m. to midnight, during which he’d hoped to cover some ground on a robbery case – two masked individuals had hit a deli on West 53rd Street, slipping away with a cash register’s worth of money and a variety of wallets and jewellery. He and Cartwright, his partner, had been following up on a lead when the call came in for backup at the U.N. headquarters. Turtle Bay was usually within the 17th Precinct’s purview, but given the amount of chaos over there, they were outmatched and outgunned. Flash and Cartwright were about to respond when they received another call – this time for a 217 over at Le Bernardin, the French restaurant. Weighing their options, they decided to head over to the assault with intent to murder – they were close, only a block over on the other side of Broadway – never expecting the scene that awaited them.

Wilson Fisk – the Kingpin of Crime – was being rushed to the E.R. when they arrived, his wife staying with him in the back of the ambulance; an oxygen mask on his face, paramedics were frantically attending to him as Vanessa watched on in distress. The restaurant was a mess inside, the table at which the Fisks had been seated shattered, its seats in splinters. The tablecloth was splayed on the floor, the white linen stained by blood and champagne, half-eaten fish and shards of dishware strewn across it; neighbouring seats were overturned, plates and glasses smashed in the panic as the other guests rushed away from danger. Someone had actually tried to kill the Kingpin.

What kind of insane idiot…?

It seemed that the Shocker was. Several eyewitnesses, Vanessa Fisk among them, identified the Kingpin’s would-be killer as Herman Schultz, having heard the… victim… call him by name. Vanessa, sitting in the E.R. waiting room with her face set and eyes cold, recounted how Schultz had stormed into the restaurant determined to “teach Wilson a lesson”, unloading the full force of his shock gauntlets onto the Kingpin after a brief verbal confrontation, of which Vanessa claimed her memory was a little fuzzy. A look over Le Bernardin’s CCTV footage confirmed her story, and after questioning the remaining witnesses, Flash and Cartwright put out an APB on the Shocker.

As he walked to his car in the Midtown North Precinct’s underground lot, the stale car park air filling his nostrils, it occurred to Flash that Peter was probably unaware of what had happened – he was either sound asleep , or swinging around somewhere other than Broadway. Chances were that he was at Turtle Bay, doing his part to clean up after the U.N. attack. Flash had no clue how he’d react to the news. Either with a burst of joy or tranquil fury, it was hard to tell.

“Yo, Detective Thompson,” said a shimmer of light floating above the hood of his 2005 Ford Mustang. The black and red-suited form of Miles Morales, Peter’s trusty sidekick, slowly came into view as he stopped reflecting light, his “invisibility” wearing off.

“Hey, Spider-Kid,” replied Flash.

There was a time when Miles’ little trick would have startled him – made him jump out of his own skin, even – but it was pretty surprising how a few short years could steel you against something. Maybe Flash was just that awesome.

“What’s up?”

“Well, y’know. I heard about the thing with the Kingpin.”

Flash raised his eyebrows. “The thing with the Kingpin, huh?”

“Yeah,” Miles nodded, “The thing with the Kingpin. It’s all over everywhere.”

“How much do you know about it?”

“Not much. Just that he was eating at a restaurant with his wife when someone tried to kill him. I was hoping you could fill me in on the rest.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I snuck out. I would’ve done it sooner but my school was in lockdown because of the whole U.N. thing, and my room doesn’t exactly have the biggest windows.”

“Isn’t it a school day?”

“Didn’t you flunk school?”

Flash sighed. “You’ve got me there.”

“Okay, so… who attacked Fisk?”

“Before I tell you, I need you to know,” said Flash, “That I’m one hundred percent not messing with you. What I’m about to say is the truth.”

“Okay.”

“Prepare yourself.”

“Okay.”

“It was the Shocker.”

Though Flash couldn’t see through Miles’ mask, he knew exactly the kind of expression that was on his face right now. A little bit of shock and a pinch of disbelief, complete with a healthy dose of “I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Flash couldn’t help the brief grimace that crossed his face. “It’s true. The Shocker walked into Le Bernardin and put Wilson Fisk in intensive care.”

Herman? Dude.”

“Yep. Fisk’s got severe internal injuries, probably life-threatening. Doctors think an induced coma might be in order, if he isn’t already catatonic.”

“Man. The U.N., then this. Crazy.”

“Yeah. I’ve got an APB out for Schultz, and I’ll let you and Pete know if there’s any developments. Knowing our luck, you’ll probably find him first.”

For a moment, Flash’s thoughts took him back to the hospital, where he and Cartwright had questioned Vanessa Fisk. Watching her sit there in her chair, rigid as a statue, as she fought to keep her emotions in check… despite all of the things that she and her husband had done, all of the things that they were no doubt still doing…

He’d almost felt bad for her.


N E W Y O R K P R E S B Y T E R I A N H O S P I T A L

November 13th, 2017 | 12:34a.m. | Manhattan, New York City

Danny Brito had never seen Mrs. Fisk like this before.

Yes, he’d seen her angry. Of course he had. You don’t work as one of the Kingpin’s top enforcers without answering to the top brass – the Fisks – and while he wouldn’t be the first to admit it, Dan had been on the receiving end of her wrath more than once. There was something terrifying about her, a kind of menace that not even her husband had, that made his bladder weak and sent chills down his spine… and right now, that menace was multiplied a thousandfold as she stared blankly at the hospital floor, painted fingernails digging into the fabric of her chair. Dried tears and mascara formed lines down her cheeks. Her dress was stained with patches of champagne and her husband’s blood. She was a mess.

She was furious.

Fancy Dan, Montana and Ox stood around her, waiting for her to speak. They’d been informed of what happened not long before Mrs. Fisk had summoned them to the hospital. They knew what Schultz had done, even after their little visit to him the previous day. If Dan was completely honest, it made him a little bit more than angry. That guy just didn’t know when to quit.

“I want you to find him,” Mrs. Fisk’s voice broke the silence. It was raspy. Flat. “I want you to find him, and to make him pay. Make all of them pay.”

The Enforcers looked at her with a mix of confusion, sympathy and caution.

“All of who, Mrs. Fisk?” asked Dan.

Them. Those Sinister Six fucks. He’s one of them – was one of them, I don’t care – they wanted Wilson dead either way and I want them gone.”

“Are… are you su– ”

Montana placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, cutting him off.

“Consider it done, Mrs. Fisk,” he said.

And just like that, Danny began to feel a different kind of fear. An exciting kind; a paralysing kind – because it was then that he understood. What Mrs. Fisk was asking of them wasn’t just to hunt down her husband’s attacker. No…

She was asking them to go to war.

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