The Ultimate DC RPG - Season III [Archive]

UltimateRPGs

11-10-2011, 11:22 AM

.Dedicated to all of those who've come before - and all who will follow.

http://img249.imageshack.us/img249/363/ultbanners3.png

The world just became a far more dangerous place. Following a perilous encounter with a mysterious telepath calling herself Dr. Destiny, the heroes of The Justice League find themselves in the midst of a struggle to maintain their image as protectors of the world, after being manipulated into committing nefarious acts all of violence and greed. Perhaps left with the most reason to win back the trust of the public is Superman, who's status as a hero was put into question after a violent outburst that ravaged an entire third world nation. But just as the Man of Steel valiantly tries to pick up the pieces, one of the League's own has fallen.

After a violent battle with an enemy that has ravaged him for months, the man that calls himself Bane, Gotham City's Dark Knight has been left beaten and broken - perhaps beyond repair. As the Batman struggles to hold onto his fading life, bleeding to death within the city he has sworn to protect, the responsibilty has fallen ontp the shoulders of young Dick Grayson to save the hero before it is too late. All the while, the boy must contend with his own ill-seeded hatred to put aside his rage and embrace his destiny as Gotham's Boy Wonder.

To make matters worse, a sinister and powerful prescence has made itself known to the Society that it hopes to lead into the fight against Earth's heroes. After spending his year travelling across the glob in search of a traitor who cost him victory against a long hated enemy, billionaire Lex Luthor has discovered that his own artificial intelligence program, one of which he entrusted all of his valuable secrets, is infact an extraterrestrial being from another world. It calls itself Brainiac, and appears to share Luthor's goals of world conquest. Evil's prescence doesn't end there, however, as disgraced college professor Edward Thwane has discovered the secret identity of Central City's local hero, The Flash, and secretly plots a devastating revenge.

With it's heroes held against overwhelming odds, and it's villains slowly claiming their victories, one is left to ask - is Earth's last stand imminent in the face of doom?

This is The Ultimate DC RPG - Season IIIhttp://img803.imageshack.us/img803/5728/ultbanners32.png

- - -

. Gamemasters & Staff .

Batman (http://forums.superherohype.com/member.php?u=33100) - Founder, Gamemaster (Our Goat Snuggler)
Byrd Man (http://forums.superherohype.com/member.php?u=41079) - Co-Gamemaster (Our Whip Cracker)
Andy C. (http://forums.superherohype.com/member.php?u=37948) - Assistant Gamemaster (Our Little Richard)

. How To Play .

This RPG is based off of a player-created continuity dealing with a modern revision of the DC Universe, similar to Marvel's Ultimate imprint. Outside of the above, and what the players themselves create, there is no pre-established continuity. As players, it will be your job to take the basic ideas and characters of the DCU, and accordingly reinvent them into however you see fit. Though it is your choice of how drastic the alterations should be, you are free to customize everything from a character's origin to motivations, identity, mannerisms, costume, powers, and world. Let your imagination run wild.

To apply for a character, fill out the application supplied below. If your application is rejected, do not despair! Simply rework what the Gamemasters tell you is wrong with it, or in the case of multi-applications, choose another character. All players are welcome, regardless of membership status or postcount.

. 12 Rules To Play By .
1. You may choose any character appearing in the DC Universe, or an imprint of DC Comics (IE: Vertigo, Wildstorm), and revamp them for Ultimate continuity. Any character appearing outside of DC, such as Marvel or Image characters, will not be allowed.

2. You are allowed a maximum of three characters. Though it is advised that you stick to one, especially at first, you will be allowed a second and third if you believe you can handle the responsibility.

3. You must post at least once every two weeks, though it is preferred you post more, or your character will be up-for-grabs. Failure to post after a month will result in removal from the roster.

4. PC's are not to be killed without permission. Nameless NPC's are fine, but PC's or important NPC's will require authorization. Don't do anything random, such as destroying the universe, either. Such behavior is frowned upon.

5. Several storylines can be going on at once, in order to interact with other players. If a player's character does not want to be involved in another's storyline, they do not have to. Consultation and communication are the keys to a good PC-to-PC interaction.

6. Sidekicks and legacy characters will be required to be permitted by the player orchestrating the mentor's role in UDC. For instance, if you want to play Superboy, your acceptance will hinder on the player playing Superman, and his thoughts.

7. You can travel anywhere on Earth or off-planet, provided it is within your character's means. Time-travel is forbidden, unless it is specifically required of your character choice. (IE: Booster Gold, Rip Hunter, The Legion of Super-Heroes)

8. You are your character, so act like them. Create or portray their mannerisms, powers, and ideals to how they have been established in the game. BE the character - do not, under any circumstances, play yourself as the character.

9. Respect the Gamemasters. If they make a request of you regarding the game, listen to them. Failure to adhere to GM, AGM, and Hype! Moderator requests will result in expulsion from the game.

10. Be creative, and do not be afraid to try new and exciting things with old concepts. This is a new continuity - the laws of the regular DC Universe are not set in stone.

11. All regular Hype rules apply.

12. Do not post Out-of-character comments in this thread. All questions, comments, and character applications should be made in the OOC/Sign-Up Thread, located here (http://forums.superherohype.com/showthread.php?t=370893).

13. And finally, the most important rule of all: Have fun. Never take the game too seriously, or you will have lost the point. Heated arguments between players can result in probation or infractions - do not ruin it for other players. It is only a game.

Batman

11-10-2011, 12:48 PM

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IC: Alfred Jarvis

I cannot feel but a single chill that runs through me.

In a span of just a few short hours, it seems as though my entire world has collasped.

Broken glass aligns the floors beneath my feet. Priceless paintings and maquettes imported from Italy and Spain, all inherited from the previous owner's bequest, are now scattered across the halls, torn and broken and stained with the fresh blood of the two men whose struggle has wrecked havoc upon his home. Our home, perhaps I should say, after the years that I have devoted time and energy towards the matinence of it - years that have now amounted all for naught. Of course it is a minimal consideration, given what has happened, but I suppose it is true that there are some things we all take for granted when they are stolen from us. And knowing that the next few hours of my life are likely to bring about grave developments, knowing that it is all the start of a long road ahead, I suppose that I can safely admit that to myself.

I had taken it all for granted.

Bruce Wayne - my employer, and my friend - is missing. The last I saw of him was a mere few hours ago. I was barely conscious and quite incapable of determining the situation at hand, but I had managed to still watch as a large behemoth of a man tossed him through the balcony window. I heard sounds echoing from outside, sounds that I had never heard the likes of which in my entire life. And hopefully will never hear again. I could hear Mr. Wayne trying his best to keep up with the grueling circumstances that were overwhelming him, but then I heard nothing. Silence. A few taudry footsteps and the rattle of the front door.

To my horror, it wasn't Bruce that was still standing. It was him, the man in the mask that conveyed a blank, emotionless, perhaps even monstrous expression. I watched him, still on the floor and still clinging to my sense of awareness, as he slowly treaded through the penthouse and made his escape. Part of me still hoped it was because he feared a retaliation from Mr. Wayne's second wind. But as I heard nothing more than the continued silence, I began to legitimately grow concerned. There was no second wind. There was simply a struggle that ended with one man walking away, and the other...

Needless to say, I had to find him. But by the time I could stand, not long after I remember the face of young Richard there to greet me as I was still sprawled across the floor of in the study, I realized something even more chilling than the possibility of what lied on the other side of the balcony - I realized there might not be anything there. And I was right. I have combed through every inch, every crevace of this penthouse that I still confidently know by heart, and found no trace of my employer. Not even a bloodstained shred of that damndable outfit.

Even after the police arrived, and I was forced to give them the cover story that we were ambushed by several hoodlums that attacked and ransacked the penthouse in the midst of their robbery, I knew that I could not simply wait for the slim chance of his return. I had to do something, anything, to quell my strengthening fears.

"Oracle. I don't know if you're... Can you hear me?"

Voice Recognition Activated. Scanning.
Voice Recognized As - Jarvis, Alfred. Authorized Secondary User Of The Oracle.

Welcome, Mr. Jarvis. How May I Assist You?

It speaks through the walls. Bloody brilliant.

I have never understood this program. Nor will I pretend to know how it works, or even how it functions. But I know of at least one thing it can definitely do.

And that is find Batman. Wherever he may be.

"Find him,"

The chill falls back into my spine, as I finally collapse into the chair behind me.

"Find him before it is too late."

Wherever you are, Bruce, I beg of you.

Hang onto whatever life remains.

Byrd Man

11-10-2011, 01:29 PM

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Undisclosed Location
Nigeria

Darkness.

That's my world now. Darkness inside this tiny and damp cell I've called my home now for....a week?

A month?

A year?

I make marks in the wall with my fingernails after they bring me back from my interrogation/beating. I assume each session is once a day. For all I know, it's once a week. My face has a decent beard, but that's no clear indication of how much time has passed. I run my hands across the marks and try to count them. I lose count after forty-five.

The door into my cell swings open. The dim light coming from the corridor is enough to hurt my eyes. I shield my eyes with my hand and feel two pairs of rough hands grab me by the shoulders and drag me from the cell. A few minutes later, they prop me up in a wooden chair across from my interrogator. He's someone important, the medals on his outfit tell me that much. Maybe he's a lieutenant colonel like me. Maybe he's something higher.

"Hello, my American friend," he says in a pleasant tone. "Still nothing to say?"

The interrogator lights up a cigar and takes a long drag off of it before blowing the smoke in my face.

"Do you know what insanity is? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting a different result. This is why you are insane. You refuse to talk, even though my men beat you and barely keep you fed. We know you are an American, even though your government refuses to acknowledge your existence. You won't tell us why you and your friends came to our country, killed our countrymen, and destroyed a facility we were protecting. You take beatings and refuse to talk. Every time you expect it to be different, but it is not. You, my friend, are insane...or maybe it is I that is the insane one. I expect you to talk, but yet you don't. No matter what I do."

The interrogator leans in and whispers into my ear.

"Those marks on the wall? I have my men come in every time you are pulled out of your cell and change the marks."

That's when I snap. I let out a scream and use all the strength I have to tackle the interrogator and drive him to the ground, getting one good punch in before his men pull me off of him. The men begin to punch me in the stomach, chest, and kick me as I fall to the ground. I feel one of my ribs break and the wind gets knocked out of me.

"Enough," the interrogator says.

My head is swimming and I'm on the verge of passing out. The men pick me back up and place me back on the wooden chair. The interrogator sits down and looks at me calmly.

"Tell me...do you know what insanity is?"

*****

150 Miles East
Kaduna, Nigeria

The black man got out of his jeep and adjusted the jacket he was wearing. He glanced over to his right. There was a darkened doorway halfway down the block. The man strolled down the street observing the people he passed. Kaduna was the headquarters of the Islamic rebels who were currently advancing south to Nigeria's capital, Abuja, and the primarily Christian government there.

He checked his watch and ducked into a side alley were a man in military dress was waiting for him.

"You're late."

"Sorry, gov," the man said in a British accent. "Thought I had a tail. Needed to shake it."

"Right. Where is your product?"

"Nearby where's my money?"

"Nearby."

"Is it the amount we agreed on?"

"Six million pounds. And the product?"

"Six ounces of depleted uranium just as you asked."

Suddenly a jeep pulled up and blocked the alleyway. Soldiers jumped out of the jeep and pointed assault rifles at the British man.

"Don't move," his contact said. The military man pushed him against the wall and began searching through his pockets. "We know who you are and what games you pull. You are a con man. There is no depleted uranium!"

The soldiers pulled the man off the wall and shoved him in the jeep.

"Take him to the prison!" Their officer barked. "We will straighten him out there!"

The jeep's driver shoved it into gear and sped off down the street with the British man inside. The officer walked back down the alley to his car and drove off.

A few minutes later, a woman wearing a burqa stepped out of the same doorway the British man had looked into earlier. She surveyed the scene before speaking into the device on her wrist.

"Nightshade to Waller. Phase 1 is complete. Operation: Raise the Flag is a go."

Bounce

11-10-2011, 01:58 PM

...previously, in the Ultimate DC RPG...
Something amazing had happened. The child stared in awe at his hands, amazed not at their being but rather the fact that they were no longer transparent. He was physical... flesh... corporeal existance. The sensation of having his feet rooted to the ground by gravity, the weight of his body, the ebb and flow of breath in his lungs, the beating of an organ in his chest were all new experiences for him. There was a place in the Phantom Zone where physical manifestation was possible for a time, but Lor had never been there. At least, not to his knowledge. One of father's soldiers had once made the comment that Lor had been made there, but the child didn't understand his meaning. The soldier was no longer with them either. Father had said that the soldier's loyalty had failed.

Fealty and service were rewarded by father's just rule. Failure only undermined father's authority and that was unacceptable. Father was a great man to give so much and ask so little, and so simple a thing, in return. For his greatness, loyalty was the least of what was owed General Zod.

The young boy wasn't alone in his struggle to comprehend the nature of the corporeal existence that had been spontaniously thrust upon him. Beside him, Krypto huffed and whined while turning circles and nipping at the limbs where seemed so awkward in comparison to phantom grace. As the child reached out to comfort the animal, he discovered the physical sensation of touch. He could feel the animal's fur, the soft tufts brushing against the palm of his hand, and the individual hairs jutting between his fingers. The concepts had existed in the Phantom Zone, but this was tangible. This was real.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Children have rights, damn it. This country signed a treaty about those rights," Dabney shouted, a little more forcefully than he'd intended. "Yet here you all are talking about experimenting on a little boy!"

"No, it isn't."

The voice was heavy, jaded and weary as the voice of one who had learned to talk over artillery fire in dark places where angels feared to tread. Dabney turned his attention to the side of the table that had spoken only to find himself facing a civilian official with Homeland Security. "You're not a medical doctor so allow me to give you a little education about that Geneva Convention on the Rights of a Child. Don't feel bad though, Doctor Donovan, our legal folks here at the Pentagon had to educate me," the man went on to say, before turning to give a nod of his head toward one of the Navy lawyers seated just a few chairs down. "Bob, why don't you explain for us."

"Doctor Donovan, strictly speaking, a 'boy' is an under-developed male human. According to your report, Superboy is an extraterrestrial. Now, legally speaking, one is either a human or an animal. The law makes no distinction or allowance for a non-human sentient being. So for the purposes of our discussion, can we agree that Superboy is not human, doctor?"

Donovan's mouth went dry, his face flush at having his own report quoted at him. Let alone out of context. "That's an unfair comparison. Human beings are animals, sir."

"I'm asking you whether your report is accurate, doctor," the Navy officer stated crisply. "Is Superboy human or not?"

Donovan just held the man's gaze for a long moment. "He is not," he said finally.

Clearing his throat, the civilian official from Homeland Security spoke up again. "Superman is the greatest hero known to man. And he has the potential to be the end of the world. Now my job isn't to know what's inside the bastard's head, only to be prepared for a contingency we'd all rather not think about," the man explained nonchalantly, pausing to look over at the monitors before turning his attention back to Donovan. "We need weapons that are effective against Superman, it's as simple as that. So you can call it what you like, but legally speaking this is animal testing."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"So what's your game?"

It was Dabney's voice. With his hearing, Lor could still hear the conversation inside of the plane. He could hear the anger and bitterness in the man's voice. He was upset, not just at the woman but he wasn't happy with her either.

"Are you sure you want to know? I mean, it's obvious now that you have no idea just how the game is played," the woman answered calmly. Lor was beginning to get the message that whatever was going on, Miss Fionna was in charge.

"Let's start with where we're going. That's the eastern seaboard below us, but we're headed south. Metropolis is north of DC, Miss Ross."

The comment was the first time that Lor had realized there was an ocean beneath them. But it was on their left when it should have been on their right. And the climate was warmer than either Washington or Metropolis. Dropping several hundred feet in mere moments, the young Superboy skimmed along the surface of the Atlantic as he continued to listen in on the adult's conversation.

"Don't you know? It was your suggestion, Doctor Donovan. We're going to Sweet Home Alabama, home of the U.S. Space Camp."

"Why?"

"Because I can, and because you obviously don't know what you're doing. You wanted the United States government to endorse a metahuman and had absolutely no idea what politics would be involved. Superman gives the entire Joint Chiefs of Staff penis envy. He's the soldier they dream of being."

That comment almost stopped Lor dead in the air. "Superman? A soldier?" the boy uttered, before breaking out in a giggly-laugh. Superman was barely adequate as Kryptonians went. He'd have never made it in Dru-Zod's army, of that Lor was certain. If humans thought that Superman was a soldier, and were scared of that, then General Dru-Zod would more than terrify them.

"No, I mean... why are you doing this?"

"The Department of Metahuman Affairs has a lot of interest in keeping the growing population of metahumans in check. Registration, for example. It might be repulsive that we want to treat Superboy and others like him as though they were sex offenders, but its in the public interest to know who and where these people are, and what they can do. Congress hasn't bought off on the registration idea yet though."

Lor began to slow down, trailing behind the chair as he nervously grabbed a hold of his t-shirt and fidgeted slightly. He wasn't really understanding the conversation, but he didn't like the way that Miss Fionna talked about him.

"But using a child for animal testing to develop some kind of silver bullet to bring down Superman? If anything the DMA has a vested interest in preventing that from happening."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So Superboy was revealed recently at a press conference as the person responsible for the rescue of Space Shuttle Excalibur, as well as Astronaut Micah Flint…” Robin Roberts began, consulting her notes for a moment, pausing a second before she then added, “…who was later killed by Superboy, would you care to elaborate on that, doctor?”

Dabney reached a hand up to adjust the collar that seemed to be tightening around his neck. Clearing his throat a second time, Donovan paused to take a sip of water from a nearby glass before responding. “Lieutenant Flint unfortunately suffered some kind of physical mutation as a result of exposure to whatever radiation caused the failure of the space shuttle.” A handkerchief came out to dab the sweat beading on Donovan’s brow. What people said about those studio lights were true, he was in ‘the hot seat’. Wetting his lips, Dabney added, “He was obviously in a great deal of pain and we believe it drove him mad. He nearly destroyed our entire facility at Pike Island, and likely would have killed a number of personnel had Superboy not stopped him.”

“Most recently Superboy and Superman together rescued Daily Planet reporter Cat Grant. Can you tell us what’s next for Superboy, doctor?”

“He’ll actually be traveling to the International Space Station this afternoon,” Donovan remarked, relaxing once more as he again put forth his best smile for the camera. “As you know, the Space Shuttle Daedalus is there now completing the mission originally assigned to Excalibur, which included some repairs. An additional component piece was identified as in need of replacement that we hadn’t planned on, so he’ll be delivering that.”

Laying her notes aside for a moment, Roberts looked directly at Donovan and asked, “With the planned retirement of the space shuttle program, do you see Superboy as a possible alternative for deliveries to the space station?”

“Superboy’s ability to traverse our atmosphere at all levels gives us flexibility in responding to the needs of the international space station, or our other space experiments, that the space shuttle program does not.”

“I see,” Robin answered, falling quiet for a moment before she leaned forward and said, “So, doctor, would it be fair to say that Project Superboy is the planned exploitation of a child by the United States government?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“That’s it,” Oz declared firmly.

“That’s what?”

Turning, Oz jabbed a finger directly toward the television. “That’s the solution.”

“But, we’ve already covered astronauts…”

“No. Superboy,” the man stated, a slow grin forming as an idea began solidifying in his mind. Pulling out his WayneBerry, the man quickly scrolled to the internet as he continued on, “Think about it! Every kid wants to be Superman, right? That kid is Superman. He’s a marketing cash cow and NASA knows it, too. Look, it’s right here on their web page. ‘Superboy to answer questions by Twitter from the International Space Station,’” Oz remarked, holding out the Twitter announcement so that the accountant could see it for himself.

“So what do you want to do? Get NASA to sponsor us?”

“We just need to become the show that Superboy watches,” Oz said with a Cheshire grin. “If other kids know that Superboy watches the Uncle Oswald Show, they’ll watch too.”
...and now, the continuation...
https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/w317-h96-k/lor_zod3.png
Metropolis, Massachusetts
October 30, 2011

It was an evening of heroes and demons, witches and the bizarre. A colorful parade of princesses and fairies as children roamed the neighborhoods of Metropolis’ residential boroughs in costumed pursuit of candy in the annual tradition of Halloween in America. Icons of the screen, the comics, and video games were represented. Naruto Uzimaki. Mario and Princess Peach. But the undisputed icon of the night was the Man of Tomorrow, as an outpouring of Supermen passed each other on the streets of Metropolis.

Not the least of which was Superman’s self-professed biggest fan, Adam Grant, who was – much to Lor-Zod’s chagrin – decked out in a Superman costume so studiously fashioned that his mother had even dyed the boy’s blond hair black to better fit the image of his idol.

Lor probably would have simply gone as himself, having little interest in the human superstitions of spirits and All Hallows Eve; but the event that was trick or treating had a particular interest for the young Kryptonian. It was, in essence, a human holiday of celebrating free candy and playing make believe. That was certainly a concept which the son of Zod could get behind.

For starters, he liked candy.

Second of all, he liked playing make believe.

It was a win-win situation for the Kryptonian third grader, so he reluctantly bowed to the norms and expectations of human society for this one event in their calendar. He even thought that his costume was rather original, not to mention superior, compared to the multitude of clones venerating the son of Jor-El. And it should be, for Lor-Zod had waged a mighty campaign of whining and temper tantrums in order to get Dabney to help him assemble his outfit. Apparently the NASA marketing folks had thought that putting Lor-Zod in a Superman suit would have made for good publicity.

The son of Zod respectfully disagreed.

The mantle that their Superboy had chosen to don instead had been cause to cancel the press conference and photo shoot, which was really a demonstration of Pike Island’s own geo-political myopia which sought to tie Superman and Superboy to Metropolis exclusively. Were Lor-Zod in Keystone City then the reaction might have been different.

Decked from head to toe in a costume of bright red, accented with golden lightning bolts, Lor-Zod had adopted the identity of the Flash. And, if anyone would have asked for his professional opinion as the son of the General, Lor would have said that the human speedster was likely twice the hero that the son of Jor-El was.

For starters, the Flash wasn’t the son of Jor-El. That was always a plus.

Still, it seemed as though Lor was inextricably bound to the symbol and icon that Kal-El had made for himself in this place, as he traveled from house to house with Adam Grant-Superman at his side. In what was becoming the ritual of their evening, the ring of the doorbell and the announcement of the trick or treat brought with it the adoration of the woman who answered the door and looked upon Super Adam with the words, “Oh, what an adorable Superman!”

And so she gifted said Superman with a full sized Hershey bar. A most generous gift, considering how much of Lor-Zod’s pillowcase was candy corn and fun-sized chocolate bits. Holding open his pillowcase in anticipation of his own reward, the bright-eyed last son of Krypton beamed at the woman.

Adjusting her glasses, the candy gifter looked the red-garbed child over from head to toe. And then she asked, “And who are you supposed to be, dear?”

The Kryptonian lowered his pillowcase, a look of royal indignation crossing his face – not the least due to Adam’s burst of giggling at yet another person failing to recognize Lor-Zod’s favorite hero.

Superman sucked.

* * * * * * * * * * * *:super: * * * * * * * * * * * *
Meanwhile…
Outskirts of Houston, Texas

A lone man stood out against the ridgeline, silhouetted like the Marlboro man as the modern rough rider enjoyed the change of the seasons with a cigarette as he looked back over the trail which he and his fellow campers had made their way along in what had become an unexpected drought at the end of Autumn. Warm breezes still cut across the Texas climate, which had become uncharacteristically arid in the last month. Dry leaves crackled under foot, while twigs made quick tender for the fire.

Behind him, he could make out the call of his fellow travelers to move on. He brought the cigarette to his lips for a final drag.

The careless flick of the cigarette, a gesture taken without thought as to action, effect, or consequence. The lit remains flitting through the air for a brief moment before landing amid the dry leaves which layered the sides of the trail from under the parched trees.

Smoke wisped out from under the brush where the cigarette had fallen, unseen as the campers left the trail…

* * * * * * * * * * * *:super: * * * * * * * * * * * *
National Aeronautics & Space Administration
Project SUPERBOY Headquarters
Pike Island Research Facility, Metropolis

Despite what he might have tried to impress upon people, Dabney Donovan had never been alone in his care of the boy that had been dubbed ‘Superboy’. Albert Michaels had been a steadfast supporter in the early days, withdrawing only when pressure from the Pentagon had grown so overwhelming as to threaten the men with removal to Guantanamo Bay. Fionna Ross of the Department of Metahuman Affairs had swept in and effectively rescued both Superboy and Donovan, fielding the political pressures from the Defense Department while controlling many of the administrative aspects which Donovan simply had no interest in involving himself – such as Superboy’s school registration.

But now Donovan had an actual staff for the project that was centered on one little boy, his own entourage of research interns trained in a diverse array of specialty fields – from child psychology to organic chemistry. The bank of interns thinned out during the graveyard shift, whose responsibilities amounted to little more than gathering questionably useful data related to monitoring the child's sleep patterns.

Across monitors in the room, different observational viewpoints captured the brown-haired youth, curled up as he was with the sizable canine that shared his pillow. It was a life under a microscope. One that even the researchers had to question for how long they would be able to sustain such an intrusion into daily life. An eight year old's sense of privacy was slim, a teenagers far more of a bulwark. The next couple of years would likely see the Superboy rebel against those who would peer into the minuscule facets of his life.

But for now, it was a welcome intrusion that woke him up, made certain he got dressed and had breakfast, brushed his teeth and got ready for school.

"Another wildfire in Texas this evening, this time outside the highly populous Greater Houston area. Support has been brought in from neighboring areas and Governor Perry is considering activating the national guard to respond..."

Seated in the lounge, sipping at his cup of coffee, Dabney Donovan looked over an appealing array of options. Requests for research assistance from institutions of renown. Requests for assistance from Superboy, some from within NASA itself. The boy was more popular than the space shuttle orbiters had been, and could haul just about the same amount of cargo. Then there were requests for appearances by Superboy...

From the Uncle Oswald Show? A children's television program?

That was... different. Had someone else figured out just what a cash cow the boy could be?

Donovan made a note of the number to call later. If he was right, he wondered what his cut would be...

* * * * * * * * * * * *:super: * * * * * * * * * * * *
Outskirts of Houston, Texas

A helicopter roared overhead, as a loud rush of water rained down upon the once rustic woodland trail now choked by thick smoke. The battle had been long and ferocious in its intensity, the fire having blazed so far out of control as to force the evacuation of nearby communities. But it was a battle that the people were at last winning.

The fire chief removed his helmet, the whole of his face blackened with soot and ash, smeared across the back of his hand as he made a futile effort to mop the sweat from his brow, and looked out to a land of devastation. And knew that it could have been worse.

Through a forest of smoke, the evidence of their efforts was not immediately visible, but the fact that the fire was no longer spreading told the fire fighters and the forest service that the tide of battle had turned. Now contained, it would only be a matter of time before the fire burned itself out.

Minutes.

Hours.

The last smoldering flame crept along the soggy earth, like a dying man trying to crawl away from the grave, when it seemed to suddenly die a phoenix’s death. The red-orange flame flickered.

And then the flame turned blue.

The explosion followed just seconds later.

Andy C.

11-10-2011, 02:04 PM

Classified Cadmus laboratory
Six days ago

"Genius is rarely appreciated in its time," said a bearded man in a high-collared black uniform and flowing cloak, as he inspected the scientist's work. "Can you really tell me you're satisfied with the work they have you doing here?"

"I happen to rather like my work," the scrawny scientist with slicked-back red hair said defensively, snatching a cybernetic limb from the black-bearded man's hands before he could damage it. "I get to build whatever I want, and my employers find all sorts of useful purposes for them."

"But never their intended purpose, am I right?" He said, seeing the scientist in the sweater-vest and bow tie shrink a little at the response. "Cadmus keeps you locked up here, building toys for them, to keep you from realizing your full potential. These robots of yours are absolutely incredible; with enough of them, you could overrun entire nations. But you already know that, don't you?"

The red-haired man squirmed uncomfortably.

"It's all right; your intelligence makes you powerful. It's only natural to want to use that power to your advantage. I am here to facilitate that. Join me, and I'll make sure you get the recognition you deserve....as well as finding a certain 'prodigal son' that your employers have neglected to locate...."

Professor Anthony Ivo's ears pricked up.

"So....what do you propose?"

Stryker's Island, Super-Max Security Wing
Five days ago

"....more money than you've ever imagined in your life. On top of that, we may be able to do something about that little....skin condition of yours....

Joseph Martin looked at his hands, how they pulsed a sickly green, how the flesh had become so translucent that one could see straight through to the bone. He clenched his fists, and they erupted into glowing green flames.

"Actually," the Atomic Skull said, "I think I'm startin' to like being this way. Now, about that money...."

Belle Reve Metahuman Penitentiary
Four days ago

"I know you're not the type who cares for money and power, despite the fact that you'll have plenty of both if you sign on with me."

Crystal Frost grunted, uninterested, as she waited for the man who had mysteriously appeared in her cell to get to the point.

"What might interest you, though, is your freedom. Not only your freedom, but a carte blanche to do whatever you want...kill whomever you want. Men, women, children, doctors, lawyers, police officers.....even super-heroes."

The deathly pale blue-skinned woman sat up in her bed, a sadistic gleam in her eye.

"Now you're speaking my language...." said Killer Frost eagerly.

Olympus Hotel and Casino, Gotham City
Three days ago

In the VIP room of one of Gotham's most expensive resorts, the man in black eyed another bearded man, the lapels of his immaculate three-piece suit cut to resemble the zig-zag shape of lightning bolts. Upon shaking his hand, he saw that the man's cufflinks bore the same logo.

"Modesty does not suit men like us," he began. "Although, heightened and superior beings as we are, we could hardly be called 'men,' isn't that right?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow, my good fellow," the casino's owner said as he dealt the next hand.

"Of course you do. You know as well as I do why once a week, the local power grid undergoes mysterious fluctuations. And what exactly becomes of those unfortunate escorts who go missing those same nights. It's perfectly natural for a god to demand human sacrifice. I think it's time the mortals became a little more reverent towards their betters, don't you?"

Maxie Zeus glared at this newcomer, then folded.

"Perhaps we should discuss this more privately...."

Undisclosed CIA detention facility
Two days ago

The man in black strolled casually through the hallways of the facility as alarms blared; he knew there was no one in the building in any condition to respond. That would give him plenty of time to chat with his next acquisition.

She lay in bed lazily, her skin covered in a coat of spotted fur. Despite all the chaos, she seemed unaffected by it as the man approached.

"So...." the Cheetah asked as if she had been waiting for this visitor all along. "How is Wonder Woman these days?"

"Let's find out ourselves, shall we?"

Slaughter Swamp, outskirts of Gotham City
One day ago

"I know you're out here," the man in black said, addressing the stinking bog. "There is no need to hide yourself from anyone, least of all me."

Out of the impenetrably thick fog, a massive figure lumbered toward him. Piercing yellow eyes stabbed through the mist as the gigantic creature lurched forward.

"....Christened on Tuesday.......married on Wednesday....." the monster chanted in a voice that sounded like boulders scraping together.

"Ah, there you are," the man said happily. "Allow me to introduce myself....."

The United Nations Headquarters, New York City
Now

"And that is why, with continued cooperation and solidarity, we will overcome this crisis," stated the Secretary General, a middle-aged Korean man with graying temples, receiving a round of applause from the crowd of delegates. "We would like to thank the American President for his generosity, and to our colleagues in the World Bank for brokering the deal, which will......"

The Secretary General paused for a moment, a hand going to his chest as if he were suffering indigestion.

"...which will....usher in...a n-n-new.....new era....." he tried to continue, before beginning to shudder violently.

Murmurs of concern turned into shouts of panic as the Secretary General's skin began to go deathly pale. The man's limbs stiffened and seemed to freeze in place, to the point where he could not even fall over. Tears streaming down from his eyes actually became solid icicles, and a layer of frost grew on the man's skin, the room resounding with a crackling sound as all of his joints and veins and sinews seized up, the man completely frozen solid from the inside.

Security personnel rushed towards the frozen world leader, but were intercepted by a blur of orange, zipping past them impossibly fast, and leaving a spray of red mist as the guards fell, with throats slashed and limbs severed. Delegates that ran for the doors were engulfed in pale green fire that left piles of charred bones where they stood, and arcs of lightning that sent them convulsing to the floor in cardiac arrest.

A terrifyingly large man stepped onto the dais and with one swing of his fist, shattered the Secretary General. Amidst the chaos, a bearded man in a black suit walked up to the now-unoccupied podium, and began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to return to your seats," he said in a calm, patronizing voice. "Return to your seats now, or we will simply kill everyone in the room."

The clamor in the General Assembly Hall died almost immediately, and the horrified delegates of the United Nations slowly, cautiously, returned to their seats.

"Very good," the man said, satisfied. "My name is Vandal Savage-- those of you whose countries are important enough to have historical files kept far away from the public will no doubt find mention of me in there. I come bearing a message to the world's leaders."

He looked out among the cowering ambassadors and politicians, and sneered.

"I don't mean you, of course. You and your kind are no longer relevant. I speak of the world's true leaders now. Superman. Wonder Woman. The Flash. All of the other members of the 'Justice League.' They are the ones who control the course of human events from here on, though they may not admit or even realize it yet. You lot of sniveling worms made yourselves obsolete the second you allowed these costumed freaks to solve your problems for you.

"But never fear, for my colleagues and I are here to remove the benevolent fascism of the Justice League. We are here to destabilize the current world order, to topple the meaningless structures you have erected, to force you to adapt and become better, or die in the process. Only the fittest survive, and those too weak or incompetent to hold their own must and will be destroyed."

Savage looked down at the crushed shards of the Secretary General.

"This man was responsible for retarding the process of natural selection. He proposed a deal in which the United States, already suffering from its own economic woes, would lend eight hundred billion dollars to bail out the failing economies of the European Union. Unfortunately, that money will never reach its intended destination, as it has been intercepted and, frankly, stolen. By us."

A red-haired man with a sweater vest and bow-tie took a bow at the mention of this heist, while a trio of robotic monkeys chattered and howled in celebration around him.

"To any members of the Justice League watching this, know that this is only the beginning," said Vandal Savage, his tone now serious. "We are here to bring down the status quo that stunts and denies true human potential. We are here to burn its icons, to sack its temples, and to drag its saviors through the mud. We are here, specifically, to kill you."

The other six super-powered killers took their place on the dais behind Savage, and he grinned.

"We are the Legion of Doom. And we hereby declare war against you all."

With that, Professor Ivo entered a command into a small hand-held device, and the seven blinked away in a flash of light, leaving carnage in their wake.

Byrd Man

11-10-2011, 02:06 PM

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Keystone City, Kansas

I walk out the Keystone City PD and head down the stairs towards my car. They're looking for a forensic lab tech, so I put in an application for it. Dad said he knows a guy here, Captain Frye or something, and he'll help me by putting in a good word. Hopefully I'll hear something soon.

I'm halfway to my car when my cellphone rings. I sigh as I look at the caller ID.

Incoming Call: GL

It totally slipped my mind that today was the day.

"Hello?"

"Where the hell are you, kid? I've been waiting for a half hour now."

"Calm down, I'll be right there."

"You bet-"

Metropolis, Massachusetts

"-ter."

I come to a stop in front of Green Lantern, all decked out in my Flash gear and ready to go.

"Told you I would be right there."

"Show off. So, are we ready to get going?"

"Yeah Just one thing...I think I have to blindfold you."

"What? Why?"

"Just in case they turn you down. So that way you won't know where we meet."

"Oh, come on."

"Rules are rules, man."

"I can't fly blind. Will you be able to carry me?"

"Damn. I didn't think about that. Okay, new plan!"

Happy Harbor, Rhode Island
30 Seconds Later

I come to a stop at the base with a blindfolded GL behind me sitting in a green construct of a sleigh. There are emerald reigns in his hands that lead up to a green headstock wrapped around my head.

"Was the headgear necessary?"

"Shut up and mush before I create a whip to crack at you!"

"We're here anyway."

The constructs disappears and GL removes his blindfold.

"Oh, Happy Harbor."

I put my hand to my face and sigh.

"So much for that blindfold....How do you know about this place?"

"From when I was in the Air Force. I flew training sorties in Metropolis and we'd fly over Happy Harbor every now and then."

"Small world. Alright, let's head inside and go meet Snapper."

"Who's that?"

"This guy I met when I first came here. He was homeless schitzophrenic. After we cleaned up the place, we let him stay here and look after the place. He's a cool guy."

"Yeah, sounds like a real peach."

"Shaddup and be on your best behavior. Don't forget, I hold your fate in my hands!"

"So now my fate has something in common with your penis?"

"....Touche."

MST3K 4ever

11-10-2011, 03:08 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

Rhiannon gets a phone call on her cell phone from a clearly shaken Pete Ross who says, "What are you doing right now?"

Rhiannon replies, "Right now enjoying peace and quiet and deciding whether I should accept Met-Tech's offer of being part of the faculty in the Spring Semester. You sound like you just saw the end of the world. What's wrong?"

Pete says, "I may have. Cut on your TV any network will do."

Rhiannon turns to LNN and watches a replay of the attack on The U-N.

She then hears Savage speak:

"To any members of the Justice League watching this, know that this is only the beginning," "We are here to bring down the status quo that stunts and denies true human potential. We are here to burn its icons, to sack its temples, and to drag its saviors through the mud. We are here, specifically, to kill you."

The other six super-powered killers took their place on the dais behind Savage, and he grinned.

"We are the Legion of Doom. And we hereby declare war against you all."

With that, Professor Ivo entered a command into a small hand-held device, and the seven blinked away in a flash of light, leaving carnage in their wake.

Rhiannon mutes the TV and says, "Pete...I...I have no idea what to say."

Pete says, "Don't say anything, do something. You and The Justice League you all are that stands between us and them."

Rhiannon replies with focus and determination in her voice, "We will count on it. I'm on my way to our HQ. We'll be in touch."

Rhiannon hangs up the phone and cuts off the TV. She then transforms into the Atom.

The Atom activates a number on her phone.

I had this programmed into my phone it links me directly with the communications console at the HQ.

The Atom rides the signal to the HQ and quickly emerges.

The Atom restores herself to 6 inches in height and sees The Flash and GL bantering back and forth.

Happy Harbor, Rhode Island
30 Seconds Later

I come to a stop at the base with a blindfolded GL behind me sitting in a green construct of a sleigh. There are emerald reigns in his hands that lead up to a green headstock wrapped around my head.

"Was the headgear necessary?"

"Shut up and mush before I create a whip to crack at you!"

"We're here anyway."

The constructs disappears and GL removes his blindfold.

"Oh, Happy Harbor."

I put my hand to my face and sigh.

"So much for that blindfold....How do you know about this place?"

"From when I was in the Air Force. I flew training sorties in Metropolis and we'd fly over Happy Harbor every now and then."

"Small world. Alright, let's head inside and go meet Snapper."

"Who's that?"

"This guy I met when I first came here. He was homeless schitzophrenic. After we cleaned up the place, we let him stay here and look after the place. He's a cool guy."

"Yeah, sounds like a real peach."

"Shaddup and be on your best behavior. Don't forget, I hold your fate in my hands!"

"So now my fate has something in common with your penis?"

"....Touche."

The Atom says, "Guys we got a major situation here. Take a look."

The Atom shows the video footage from the U-N security system and says, "We better get everyone and anyone else we can think of here. Now!"

Byrd Man

11-10-2011, 03:54 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Two Weeks From Now

The sack over my head is starting to chafe. I'm still a little woozy as well. A cattle prod to the gut will do that to you. I've lost track of time. Handcuffed and in the back of this van, I could be halfway to Opal City for all I know. The roads turn bumpy and stay that way for the last five minutes of the trip. The driver puts the car in park and yanks me out. I hear bugs and smell the stink of the mud and stagnant water.

Oh, God...I'm in Slaughter Swamp.

The man behind me puts his hands on my shoulders and drives me to my knees. He yanks the sack off and the headlights of a car in front of me are right in my face.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Eddie," a voice wheezes on the other side of the lights. I hear the squeak of something being pushed through the mud and the voice's owner comes into sight.

Jim Gordon in a wheelchair being pushed by Harvey Bullock.

"I had such high goddamn hopes for us....but you ruined it. What you're getting, you deserve every damn bit of."

Funny thing is that he's not wrong.

Now

"Listen, Edward," Sarah Essen, acting commissioner, says to me in her office. "I've talked to the Chief of Patrol now I'm going to talk to you about it. Let all the detectives in Central and out in the precincts to know that if the FBI or US Attorney approaches them, they don't say a word. They contact their union rep and lawyer up. There is no way these rats are going to come at us like we're common street hoods."

"I agree. We need a united front. If there's any dirt to find, it won't come from us."

"That goes for the administration as well," Essen says curtly. "Some people in high places could hurt us all with a few words."

Three guesses who she's talking about. There is no way in hell I could inform on her and Gordon without incriminating myself.

"Don't worry. I made a promise last year, I've been good on it so far."

"Let's keep it that way."

"So," I say, trying to change topics. "How's Jim?"

"Getting better. He's starting physical therapy today. He's still having some troubles with speaking. But considering what he went through, it's a miracle."

One women's miracle is another man's plague.

"What about...."

"I know what you're going to say, and don't say it. It never happened. Am I being clear?"

"Crystal."

"Now get out of here."

I leave Essen's office without saying a word and head out to the parking garage. I drive for an hour to make sure I'm not being followed before I head to the Gotham Ritz. Feels like nearly a lifetime ago that I was staying here with Selina Kyle. Hard to believe it, but there's nothing I wouldn't give to have those ****ed up days back.

I take the elevator to the sixth floor and knock on room 606. The door swings open and a large man escorts me inside where US Attorney Damon Matthews and FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer are waiting at a table.

"Here he is," Matthews says enthusiastically. "Our star witness."

Like I said, there is no way in hell I could inform on Essen and Gordon without incriminating myself.

Lucky for me Matthews is prepared to offer me full immunity.

Byrd Man

11-10-2011, 04:15 PM

The Atom says, "Guys we got a major situation here. Take a look."

The Atom shows the video footage from the U-N security system and says, "We better get everyone and anyone else we can think of here. Now!"

"What is that?"

"Ohdamndamndamndamndamndamn!"

"Slow down!"

"Oh, my God! It's an evil super team! It was bound to happen! They're like us...only without the goatees and eyepaches. Why don't the bad guys have goatees and eyepatches?! I DON'T UNDERSTAND IT!"

Andy C.

11-10-2011, 04:53 PM

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I make my way to the main hall when I hear Flash's voice, along with another--the Green Lantern, I assume. Today is the day we consider him for membership in the Justice League. His part in saving us from Doctor Destiny were a definite credit to his worth, and in my opinion, more than enough to prove him worthy of joining us. I believe most of my compatriots will feel the same.

Before I can greet them, the Atom appears in the hall with them.

"Guys we got a major situation here. Take a look." she says, activating the monitor and showing footage of an attack on the United Nations.

"....my gods...." I say, shocked at the gathering of monsters and killers this 'Vandal Savage' has amassed for himself.

Then I see her, among the group of fiends. Her smile one of bloodthirsty glee, the claws dripping with gore.

"Cheetah," I say, my own blood boiling with rage, as my hands clench into fists. "If it's a war they want.....it's a war they'll get."

Supergirl

11-10-2011, 05:54 PM

Byrd Man

11-10-2011, 06:32 PM

"....my gods...." I say, shocked at the gathering of monsters and killers this 'Vandal Savage' has amassed for himself.

Then I see her, among the group of fiends. Her smile one of bloodthirsty glee, the claws dripping with gore.

"Cheetah," I say, my own blood boiling with rage, as my hands clench into fists. "If it's a war they want.....it's a war they'll get."

"Who else is supposed to be coming?"

"Superman should be it," I say in a quiet voice as I rewatch the footage again. "We...uhh...we tried to reach out to Batman, but never got in contact with him. Shouldn't matter. We have a quorum. But I think what just happened takes precedence."

MST3K 4ever

11-10-2011, 08:28 PM

"Who else is supposed to be coming?"

"Superman should be it," I say in a quiet voice as I rewatch the footage again. "We...uhh...we tried to reach out to Batman, but never got in contact with him. Shouldn't matter. We have a quorum. But I think what just happened takes precedence."

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom says, "Right now we need all the help we can get, and more importantly the world needs to know we're ready to respond to The Legion Of Doom. As far as I'm concerned GL had a major role in saving the League and proved his valor that's good enough for me."

The Atom turns her attention back to the computer and as quickly as she can rewinds the footage to the closing shot of The Legion Of Doom. She then frezze frames it.

The Atom floats up to the front of the view-screen and begins touching each face on the screen.

This would go a lot faster if I were normal size but silly me wanting to keep my identity a secret.

She then says, "Computer facial recogniton program cross-reference with database."

The Atom looks to the group and says, "I know someone in the CIA who specializes in Meta-Humans and other known associates."

Just then the computer shows in seperate windows names and videos of The Legion Of Doom. All but Savage.

The Atom says, "Not much to go on but at least it's a start."

Spike_x1

11-10-2011, 09:10 PM

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/Superman.jpg

Okay. I'll admit it.

That hurt.

My body aches all over and it almost feels as if the Earth has been knocked away from me, instead of me being blasted away from it.

That's how badly my head is reeling right now.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/Superman3.jpg

Insult has successfully been added to injury. The impact certainly did not help my growing headache. Even in the dead silence of space endlessly surrounding me, my head rings like nothing anyone would ever believe. What was that he hit me with? Some kind of sonic blaster? A electromagnetic mega-disruptor? It's definitely a step up from the stolen IronWorks Toastmasters that have been hitting the streets lately.

It suddenly occurs to me just how bizarre it is that I've become so familiar with such a large assortment of futuristic weaponry.

Comes with the territory, I guess.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/Superman4.jpg

~League?~ I ask through the telepathic network maintained by J'onn, knowing that our favorite Martian returned to Earth a few days ago and was hoping to make an appearance at our first official Justice League meeting. ~I'm going to be running a little late. I ran into some minor trouble in Metropolis, but it shouldn't take too long.~

Blasting off from the surface of the moon, I shrug off the heat of reentry and rocket through the skies back to the City of Tomorrow. My home.

Nobody gets to tote around a weapon powerful enough to send me crashing into the moon. Not in my town. And that rule goes double for bank robbing racist cult leaders like Bloodsport, eager to turn such a gun against the first non-White man, woman, or child that he comes across.

~Superman, it might be in your best interest to hurry. An important matter has come up.~

SenseiofCheese

11-11-2011, 09:53 AM

Edit: Nothing to see here.

Byrd Man

11-11-2011, 01:33 PM

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Previously

Undisclosed Location
Nigeria

Darkness.

That's my world now. Darkness inside this tiny and damp cell I've called my home now for....a week?

A month?

A year?

I make marks in the wall with my fingernails after they bring me back from my interrogation/beating. I assume each session is once a day. For all I know, it's once a week. My face has a decent beard, but that's no clear indication of how much time has passed. I run my hands across the marks and try to count them. I lose count after forty-five.

The door into my cell swings open. The dim light coming from the corridor is enough to hurt my eyes. I shield my eyes with my hand and feel two pairs of rough hands grab me by the shoulders and drag me from the cell. A few minutes later, they prop me up in a wooden chair across from my interrogator. He's someone important, the medals on his outfit tell me that much. Maybe he's a lieutenant colonel like me. Maybe he's something higher.

"Hello, my American friend," he says in a pleasant tone. "Still nothing to say?"

The interrogator lights up a cigar and takes a long drag off of it before blowing the smoke in my face.

"Do you know what insanity is? Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, yet expecting a different result. This is why you are insane. You refuse to talk, even though my men beat you and barely keep you fed. We know you are an American, even though your government refuses to acknowledge your existence. You won't tell us why you and your friends came to our country, killed our countrymen, and destroyed a facility we were protecting. You take beatings and refuse to talk. Every time you expect it to be different, but it is not. You, my friend, are insane...or maybe it is I that is the insane one. I expect you to talk, but yet you don't. No matter what I do."

The interrogator leans in and whispers into my ear.

"Those marks on the wall? I have my men come in every time you are pulled out of your cell and change the marks."

That's when I snap. I let out a scream and use all the strength I have to tackle the interrogator and drive him to the ground, getting one good punch in before his men pull me off of him. The men begin to punch me in the stomach, chest, and kick me as I fall to the ground. I feel one of my ribs break and the wind gets knocked out of me.

"Enough," the interrogator says.

My head is swimming and I'm on the verge of passing out. The men pick me back up and place me back on the wooden chair. The interrogator sits down and looks at me calmly.

"Tell me...do you know what insanity is?"

*****

150 Miles East
Kaduna, Nigeria

The black man got out of his jeep and adjusted the jacket he was wearing. He glanced over to his right. There was a darkened doorway halfway down the block. The man strolled down the street observing the people he passed. Kaduna was the headquarters of the Islamic rebels who were currently advancing south to Nigeria's capital, Abuja, and the primarily Christian government there.

He checked his watch and ducked into a side alley were a man in military dress was waiting for him.

"You're late."

"Sorry, gov," the man said in a British accent. "Thought I had a tail. Needed to shake it."

"Right. Where is your product?"

"Nearby where's my money?"

"Nearby."

"Is it the amount we agreed on?"

"Six million pounds. And the product?"

"Six ounces of depleted uranium just as you asked."

Suddenly a jeep pulled up and blocked the alleyway. Soldiers jumped out of the jeep and pointed assault rifles at the British man.

"Don't move," his contact said. The military man pushed him against the wall and began searching through his pockets. "We know who you are and what games you pull. You are a con man. There is no depleted uranium!"

The soldiers pulled the man off the wall and shoved him in the jeep.

"Take him to the prison!" Their officer barked. "We will straighten him out there!"

The jeep's driver shoved it into gear and sped off down the street with the British man inside. The officer walked back down the alley to his car and drove off.

A few minutes later, a woman wearing a burqa stepped out of the same doorway the British man had looked into earlier. She surveyed the scene before speaking into the device on her wrist.

"Nightshade to Waller. Phase 1 is complete. Operation: Raise the Flag is a go."

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano

The guard pushed the black British man down the corridor of the prison. They had stripped him of his suit and had replaced it with a dingy gray prison outfit. The guard shouted at him in the Hausa language.

His eyes lingered as he passed a room where a white man with shaggy red hair was sitting in a wooden chair, a spotlight in his eyes.

Name: Rick Flag
Codename: Flagman
Abilities: Skilled marksman, natural leader
Role: Task Force X Field Leader

The guard kept pushing the man to the end of the corridor and shoved him into a cell. The door slammed shut behind him and locked. The man paced around the room and his tongue instinctively rubbed the fresh filling in his back molar. The guards full cavity search had missed the new filling and the small GPS device in it. The man sat down on the edge of his cot and leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.

He was mentally preparing for the task to come.

Name: Benjamin Turner
Codename: Bronze Tiger
Abilities: Expert in hand to hand combat and stealth
Role: Tactical support

*****

Kaduna, Nigeria

The middle aged black woman stood at the head of the table inside the hotel room. Gathered around her were three men and one woman.

"Listen up, people..."

Name: Special Agent Dr. Amanda Waller
Codename: The Wall
Role: Task Force X leader

"Turner's tracking chip finally came to a stop on the outskirts of Kano. It's about 150 miles west of Kaduna. I ordered a UAV to fly over the location and it's a prison facility that matches our intel."

"When do we move in?" The woman with dark hair and pale skin.

Name: Eve Eden
Codename: Nightshade
Powers: Light manipulation, teleportation
Role: Infiltration, transportation

"We need Turner to get eyes on Flag before we try any sort of exfiltration. I've got it set it up to meet with Turner at the prison tomorrow morning. I'm going undercover as his lawyer."

"No way in hell you're going in there alone," the man to Waller's right said in a gruff voice. He wore a glove on his right hand.

Name: CLASSIFIED
Codename: Sarge Steel
Role: Intelligence

"Don't worry, Sarge. I ain't going in alone. I expect my guardian angel to be looking out for me. Ain't that right, Floyd and Vertigo?"

"I don't think any goddamn guardian angel could shoot half as good as me."

Name: Floyd Lawton
Codename: Deadshot
Abilities: Expert marksman
Role: Sniper

"When I go, I'm gonna need some recording devices on my person. Klutter, you got anything like that with us?"

"I can rig something up," the skinny man with glasses said.

Name: Noah Kuttler
Codename: Calculator
Abilities: Skilled hacker
Role: Technological support

"Good. Alright, that's it for now. Let's get working on tomorrow morning. We're out of here and on our way to Kano at 0600."

MST3K 4ever

11-11-2011, 03:41 PM

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6221/6332727232_86ae1eff7a.jpg

Oswald gets a call from a somewhat distraught Mayor Grange.

She asks, "Give it to me straight Oswald are the rumors true?"

Oswald replies, "There so many rumors about me Madelyn could you please narrow it down to either my personal life or work environment?

She says, "Your future plans."

Oswald replies, "The fact that I plan continuing on supporting you and running the Iceberg Lounge that's about it. Nothing sensational there my dear. What's troubling?"

Mayor Grange says, "There are rumors going around that you were planning a run for the Mayor's Office."

Oswald laughs and says, "Me in politics? Madelyn please pay those rumors no mind. I have no intention of seeking public office. I find you to be a more than capable and faithful servant of the people of Gotham no truth to them at all."

Mayor Grange says, "Well that's good to hear Oswald thank you for clearing up those rumors."

Oswald says, "Not a problem at all my dear. In fact I'll make a statement later today when I have my press conference to announce that we are booking Rhianna for a week here at the lounge. Please keep that under your hat as it were.."

Mayor Grange says, "Wow Oswald I certainly will! How did you pull that one off?"

Oswald chuckles and says, "A good magician never reveals his tricks my dear. Well if you will excuse I have some last minute prep to do I am terribly sorry for any trouble that these unfounded rumors caused you and like I said I will address them later today. Goodbye my dear."

He hangs up the phone and goes over to his pet vulture Titan and feeds him a snack.

He says, "Don't worry Titan we're not going anywhere. Besides the media scrutiny could seriously hinder my operations. Mayor Grange doesn't know how well of a job she is doing. Staying out of my private affairs just the way I like it."

Oswald receives a coded e-mail: Unconfirmed reports The Bat is hurt badly. Working to confirm.

Oswald responds: Keep me informed.

Ahh yes this has the makings of a great day indeed.

Bounce

11-11-2011, 03:46 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
Benedict Arnold Elementary School
Metropolis, Massachusetts

As third graders went, Lor-Zod was something of an anomaly. Not having any secret identity, the young Kryptonian attended human school without any need to mask his abilities. He played down the physical side of course, so to be careful not to break one of his classmates, but was otherwise quite content to be himself. This created great disparity in where he sat in relation to his peers, as the boy could literally breeze through his math text with speed that was just shy of the Flash. The concepts being relatively universal, the pages of the text were turned in a visual blur as the boy used a pencil with equal speed to write out the assignments from the book.

English was the opposite. He spoke it, thanks to whatever Mister Myxptlk had done to the boy when the two had first met, but vocabulary and reading comprehension were two areas where Lor-Zod struggled to keep pace with where the other third graders were.

Science somewhere in the middle. In so much as math was involved, Lor was ahead of the curve. But when the concepts required a great deal of reading, he lagged with the back of the class.

Though recess and Art were two areas in which the boy was utterly normal, it surprised many teachers and parents to learn that P.E. was a point in which the Superboy took a pass. Lor had no objection to restraining himself to be able to play with other kids, but there would be no honor in playing sports with humans. If Lor-Zod let the opposing team win, then he would be dishonest to both them and himself. And if he was true to himself, then there would be no competition. So the boy was content to stay back and watch. Fly around the court to keep whatever ball was in play from going too far outside the boundaries.

One odd thing that Lor-Zod had ascertained from his observations of human physical education was that it seemed every sport of human invention involved a ball and a net. Sometimes the ball was moved by action of a foot. Or a hand. Or a stick. Of those, Adam liked the game which humans called 'soccer,' a foot-to-ball based game in which players chased the ball from one end of the field to the other, with the goal being a narrowly defined area in the end zone accessible only on one side.

A curious waste of time, as the game didn't seem to impart to its participants any kind of skills which would be of use to a warrior.

Lor-Zod wondered if Superman or Flash would ever play it with him...

"Superboy, please report to the principal's office."

Blinking, the general's son allowed himself a fraction of a second in which to contemplate the cause of his being summoned. He was quite certain that he'd been moving too quickly to have been seen when he'd put the tack on Mr. Wright's chair. And there hadn't been anything else that he'd really done today to warrant being in trouble. He'd put gum in Suzie Jenkins' hair, but that had been yesterday.

"Superboy's in troooooooouble! Ooooooooooooooo!"

Holy Rao, that had not just been Adam calling him out.

"Oooooooooooooooo!"

Scowling, the brown-haired Kryptonian turned his attention to the kids on the soccer field that were now mocking him. And the son of Zod did not suffer fools lightly. In a red blur, Lor-Zod pantsed the boys on the field - Adam included - and gave the girls something else to laugh at, while he skulked along toward the principal's office

* * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

NASA Pike Island Research Center
Metropolis, Massachusetts

"You couldn't have found a better way to call me?"

"Look, all I'm saying is I'd like just one day where I'm not called to the principal's office," Dabney Donovan stated. The newly dubbed NASA project manager stood in the center of his own mission control center, banks of monitors tracking Superboy on satellite while simultaneously broadcasting images of the Texas wildfires. Still, Donovan was slightly distracted from the point of the assignment. "When he said 'pantsed the kids' are we talking underwear?"

"Sir, there's a situation in New York."

Muting the bluetooth mic that linked him with Superboy, Donovan switched his attention to yet another monitor in the room.

"To any members of the Justice League watching this, know that this is only the beginning..."

"No, just their shorts this time."

"Situation my ass. That's a ****ing disaster," Dabney commented, motioning for the intern to mute the audio before the man reached up to tap the bluetooth in his ear. What had the kid said? Only their shorts? That was at least cause for a sigh of relief. Maybe he'd be able to escape this incident without either he or Fionna Ross showing up at the next school board meeting to pay off the administrators to overlook this little incident. "I guess at least they didn't catch you using x-ray vision on the girls."

"Ew! Why would I want to do that?"

"Ask me again in four years," Dabney replied glibly, before returning to the monitors tracking the spread of fires in the Lonestar State. The two larger fires were the most pressing concern. "All right, so we'll work on some kind of midget Bat-Signal for you or whatever. You're over Kentucky now, so you'll be arriving at the target soon. Now, there fire extends from a chemical factory to a residential neighborhood. Its important you save the chemical factory first..."

* * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *
Texas
Somewhere in the skies

"...otherwise this fire could get a whole lot worse. And for more than just the people of Houston."

The howl of the wind cut into the sound of Dabney's voice through the bluetooth piece that was in the child's ear, but Lor-Zod's hearing was more than adequate to make out the man's words even as the child split the air with a sonic boom. In a second, the boy had plummeted several hundred feet, dropping below the clouds to the choking embrace of soot and smoke.

They had given him a "smart phone" device that included GPS and mapping technology to assist him in navigating while flying. Definitely an improvement over his earlier attempt at flying from Alabama to Massachusetts. Tucking the phone away into his jeans pocket, the boy wondered if the view such as this couldn't explain Superman's reason for being a hero for humanity.

He could hear voices crying out in terror. Feel the tension running through the air, as animals tried to find an escape from the fires that were encroaching on their woodland. Sense the fear in the fire fighters and the soldiers who had waged a futile battle against the destructive element.

They were holding out for a hero.

And the son of Zod would give them one.

https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-OwBI3X3WIoI/Tr1pBcqjLzI/AAAAAAAAAD0/wd2bFK7yIsE/s269/lz01.png

Spike_x1

11-11-2011, 07:20 PM

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/UltSupermanBanner-1.jpg

"All right, Trent," I say, closing in on Bloodsport on the front steps outside of Metropolis' First National Bank. "That won't happen again." When I first encountered Alex Trent inside the bank a minute ago, I underestimated the strength of his weapons and was hit with a blast that sent me through the roof of the building and into outer space. Needless to say, I'm not going to let him hit me again.

It looks as if, after momentarily dealing with me, Bloodsport took the money and ran straight into the police outside, which is where he's been forced to remain until now. The cops have been standing their ground, but with the weaponry available to him, I can't imagine they could slow Trent down forever. The man is a walking armory now that he has upgraded himself. The last time he was in the news, Alex Trent was wanted for the theft of experimental teleportation technology from STAR Labs. A quick X-ray scan shows me the last thing I wanted to see: the teleporter has been surgically implanted in his body, with receiver ports wired into his back and the palms of his hands. Judging from what I've seen him do today, that means that he can mentally command various items from some hidden cache of weapons to teleport directly into his hands, or some backpack weapon onto his back. Lord only knows where he originally stole the weapons from.

"Back for more, alien?"

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/Bloodsport2.jpg

Taking his eyes off the police watching from the bottom of the stairs, Trent reels around to face me, but takes a bullet in the shoulder fired from an officer below. Roaring in anger, some sort of double-barreled rocket launcher materializes in his grip. Clutching his bullet wound with one hand, Trent takes aim with his other hand at the officer who shot him and returns fire.

Without a moment's hesitation, I hit the tail end of the rocket with a forceful blast of heat vision, forcing the nose upward and sending it off its intended course and into the sky where it explodes harmlessly. While I was busy doing that, however, Bloodsport was taking aim at me with his second shot. Of course, I only realize this when I feel the missile hit my chest and explode.

Unfortunately for Trent, I casually brush dirt off my shoulders when the smoke and flames clear. "If you really want to hurt me, Bloodsport, you should stick with whatever it was that you hit me with before."

"The Orbit-Buster only has one shot before it needs to be recharged, but it don't matter," he growls as his teleporter begins humming to life again. "I don't have to kill you to hurt you, after all." I know what he's about to do now. He thinks he can endanger or kill innocent people to distract me while he makes his getaway. It's been tried before.

Sadly for Trent though, the only thing that appears in his hands now is a pile of inorganic slop that slides through his fingers and into a puddle at his feet. "What the hell--?"

"I used my heat vision to ionize the air around you, scrambling the signal reaching your teleportation receivers." I calmly float down and walk towards Bloodsport. "I imagine that you can still mentally call for weapons, but your technology doesn't know how to rebuild it in your hands. You're stuck with whatever random mess of molecules it decides to spit out."

"Goddamn alien!" That's when Trent decides to take a swing at me. I let him him bruise his knuckles before flicking my finger at him in return, knocking him unconscious as the police climb the stairs and surround us.

"People are pretty shaken up in there," I gesture to the bank, "but no one was injured."

"We had this covered, boyscout!" says an approaching member of the Special Crimes Unit. Detective John Corben. I've interviewed him several times. Known for almost routine-like applications of excessive force, I didn't want him pushing Bloodsport too far. More than likely, that would have resulted in a massacre at Trent's hands, despite Corben's claims of control. "Go save the world from some more giant starfish and dream ladies. We'll take care of the human crazies. Damn showboat."

Sure. "Just be sure to get a trace on Trent's teleportation link to find the location of the stash that he was getting his weapons from." In spite of my dislike for Corben, I do believe that he and his team can handle things from here. Which is good, because I have places to be.

**********

"Sorry for being late. I was held up," I say as I step into the main lobby of the Justice League headquarters in Happy Harbor where the other members have gathered.

"No need for apologies, Superman," replies J'onn J'onzz as he phases through one of the walls into the room. "I have already explained to the others that you were busy. Now, if you will give me your attention, I can tell you about the threat that has just come to our attention..."

As J'onn catches me up to speed on this "Legion of Doom," I remain silent. I had hoped that the Justice League would inspire other people to step up and do good, but I see now that it also had the effect of inspiring villains to up their ante and form a team of their own.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/18-4.jpg

Carnage27

11-11-2011, 07:31 PM

A hard punch rouses me into consciousness. I struggle in vain against the restraints on my arms, but I know nothing is going to break them. I look up at my interrogator. The smug Brit named Jack Hawksmoor. My rage builds as he just stares at me. They've had me locked up for over a month, seeing how I work, trying to find out what my motive for trying to kill the girl, Jenny Quantum.

But I have no motive. I never had any desire to kill the girl. In fact, I wanted to be on these people's, who call themselves The Authority, side. I wanted to help them. I wanted to find the people that made me, and the people that want them dead.

Unfortunately, when the girl came out to meet me when I was brought to them, some program imbedded in my head kicked in and I attempted to strangle her. The bastards must have wanted a contingency plan in case I didn't want to perform their mission.

Stormwatch. That's what they call themselves apparently. They've been trying to kill Quantum and Jenny Sparks, The Authority's leader, for years. Why, I don't know. But apparently Stormwatch was some kind of government project to create the ultimate nuclear deterrent. How that led to this little war I still haven't found out.

"So," Hawksmoor says as he takes a seat in front of me. "You've been dead set on keeping your cover story. So much so that Sparks thinks you might actually be telling the truth."

"I am telling the truth."

"Well, that remains to be seen," he sighs. "And see we will." He motions towards the one-way mirror that covers on wall, "Angela, please come in."

The door opens, and in walks a woman made of what looks like pure metal. She looks like a hot version of the T-1000 from Terminator 2.

"Cyborg," she says as she approaches. "I'm the Engineer. I'm going to give you a look. See if you're telling the truth, and to see whether or not I can deactivate your programming, if that's the case."

"Is it going to hurt?" I ask, not really sure why. I've been beaten up so much it really doesn't matter.

"It might," she responds coolly as her hands turn into a wire to connect to the port in the back of my head.

And hurt it does.

Byrd Man

11-11-2011, 07:42 PM

She then says, "Computer facial recogniton program cross-reference with database."

The Atom looks to the group and says, "I know someone in the CIA who specializes in Meta-Humans and other known associates."

Just then the computer shows in seperate windows names and videos of The Legion Of Doom. All but Savage.

The Atom says, "Not much to go on but at least it's a start."

"Wonder Woman and I both had a run in with Cheetah back before the Justice League got started. The rest of them are completely foreign to me."

I hear voices out of earshot just down the hallway. Superman and Martian Manhunter come around the corner where we've gathered.

"Any of these people look familiar to you guys?" I ask them, motioning to the screen where Atom has the files and information about the "Legion of Doom."

Spike_x1

11-11-2011, 08:34 PM

Byrd Man

11-13-2011, 01:10 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

Two Weeks From Now

The sack over my head is starting to chafe. I'm still a little woozy as well. A cattle prod to the gut will do that to you. I've lost track of time. Handcuffed and in the back of this van, I could be halfway to Opal City for all I know. The roads turn bumpy and stay that way for the last five minutes of the trip. The driver puts the car in park and yanks me out. I hear bugs and smell the stink of the mud and stagnant water.

Oh, God...I'm in Slaughter Swamp.

The man behind me puts his hands on my shoulders and drives me to my knees. He yanks the sack off and the headlights of a car in front of me are right in my face.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Eddie," a voice wheezes on the other side of the lights. I hear the squeak of something being pushed through the mud and the voice's owner comes into sight.

Jim Gordon in a wheelchair being pushed by Harvey Bullock.

"I had such high goddamn hopes for us....but you ruined it. What you're getting, you deserve every damn bit of."

Funny thing is that he's not wrong.

Now

"Listen, Edward," Sarah Essen, acting commissioner, says to me in her office. "I've talked to the Chief of Patrol now I'm going to talk to you about it. Let all the detectives in Central and out in the precincts to know that if the FBI or US Attorney approaches them, they don't say a word. They contact their union rep and lawyer up. There is no way these rats are going to come at us like we're common street hoods."

"I agree. We need a united front. If there's any dirt to find, it won't come from us."

"That goes for the administration as well," Essen says curtly. "Some people in high places could hurt us all with a few words."

Three guesses who she's talking about. There is no way in hell I could inform on her and Gordon without incriminating myself.

"Don't worry. I made a promise last year, I've been good on it so far."

"Let's keep it that way."

"So," I say, trying to change topics. "How's Jim?"

"Getting better. He's starting physical therapy today. He's still having some troubles with speaking. But considering what he went through, it's a miracle."

One women's miracle is another man's plague.

"What about...."

"I know what you're going to say, and don't say it. It never happened. Am I being clear?"

"Crystal."

"Now get out of here."

I leave Essen's office without saying a word and head out to the parking garage. I drive for an hour to make sure I'm not being followed before I head to the Gotham Ritz. Feels like nearly a lifetime ago that I was staying here with Selina Kyle. Hard to believe it, but there's nothing I wouldn't give to have those ****ed up days back.

I take the elevator to the sixth floor and knock on room 606. The door swings open and a large man escorts me inside where US Attorney Damon Matthews and FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer are waiting at a table.

"Here he is," Matthews says enthusiastically. "Our star witness."

Like I said, there is no way in hell I could inform on Essen and Gordon without incriminating myself.

Lucky for me Matthews is prepared to offer me full immunity.

Matthews paces around the room while Spencer watches me impassively.

"Here's how it's going to go," Matthews starts. He ticks off points on his fingers as he talks. "One, our deal does not leave this room. Only the three of us are to be privy of your efforts to inform on the GCPD. Two, we are the ones who make contact with you. Do not attempt to contact us under any circumstances. Three, you do what we say when we say it. I know you have a track record of being...'independent' but that ends when you work for us. Fourth and finally, I'm not out to arrest some schmuck beat cop with ulcers. I'm going hunting for the big game. I want Gordon, Essen, Bullock. I want some ****ing antlers I can hang up on my wall. If you can't follow these rules, then we will have a problem. Are we going to have any problems, Inspector?"

"No, sir. I sign those immunity papers, and I'll do whatever the hell you want."

"That's gonna have to wait," Matthews says, looking at his wristwatch. "For now, I'll leave you in the care of Special Agent Spencer. When you make contact, more often that not it'll be through her. Best of luck."

With that, Matthews leaves the hotel room and I'm left alone with Spencer.

"Before we get down to any deals and immunity, I need something from you. A show of good faith. Hard evidence that you have information that can lead to the arrest of dirty cops. What do you have for us, Nygma?"

I hold my tongue from cussing out loud. ****ing pigs.

"Not sure if I feel comfortable talking without fear of prosecution."

"Listen, I don't have time for your crap. You want to play games, that's fine. No immunity. Just remember that you're the type that the bull in Stonegate love to have a good time with. By the time they get done with you, you won't be able to sit down again."

I sigh and look away from her. I stay quiet for a few moments before breaking the silence.

"There's this sergeant in the Northeast. Dylan Murphy. He runs a protection racket with all the immigrant store owners in Bennett Beach."

"That's the best you got?"

"Nope, but you think I'll blow my wad in one meeting? You got another thing coming, lady."

"Fine. I'll check this out. But for now, we're done. I'll be in touch."

Spencer stands up and shows me the way out the door.

*****

IC: Vic Sage

I take a final drag off my cigarette before tossing it to the ground and stomping it out. The Ace Chemical plant looms in front of me. I walk inside the abandoned factory and head to the scene of the crime.

The back office where Detective Marcus Driver was killed.

Two days on the case and reading on the files led me back here. There were only a few crime scene photos and the forensic report that came back was sloppy to say the least.

I look over the photos and walk through the room, imagining exactly where everything was the night Driver was murdered. I have the file under my arm. I pull it out and lay the photos out on the floor.

Okay, Driver was killed when he had his throat slit. Driver was a big guy, he'd be hard to hold down. The toxicology report said he had a bunch of Benzodiazepine in his system. So, whoever killed him had to drug him first. They had to get close to drug him. So...someone he trusted?

I walk over to the desk where Driver's body was found. The blood was pouring out and to the right on the desk. So, that means the cut probably went from left to right. The killer was probably right handed. And short, judging by the angle of the cut. No taller than 5'7. No wallet or cellphone was found on Driver's body. A murder out here in a deserted location. It was somebody he knew. He was killed to keep him quiet.

But why?

I go about picking up the photos and case files. I pull out my cellphone once they're all back in place.

"Stan? It's Vic. I need some help....yeah, I need all the case files about the last few cases Driver worked and I also need all his financial information."

Carnage27

11-13-2011, 12:56 PM

Boy Blue
~No Place Like Home~
Part 1

I take a deep breath of air I thought I'd never fill my lungs with again. I'm back in the Homelands for the first time in over a century. The Fabletown council decided it was time to take the fight to The Adversary after the invasion of the Wooden Soldiers, and I volunteered to lead the mission. After all these years, and after what happened to Pinocchio, I was itching to take my frustration and anger out on the Emperor's forces.

But I haven't come alone. Bufkin flutters onto my shoulder, the flying monkey refusing to stay behind as I risk my life. And Cinderella came in front of our arrival, setting up a portal to the Mundy world for us to pass through.

After enjoying the sight of the Homelands for the first time, I begin trudging through the forest I've come out of. And before long, I run into a short, little man who doesn't look all too happy to see me, "You Blue?"

"Yea, that's me," I nod. "You're Cindy's contact?"

"That seems to be the case," he grunts motions for me to follow him. "Your princess told me the plan. Seems like it'll probably work. There's been enough dissent in the ranks here for long. But we've been missing the spark to light the powder keg. Your plan might just do that."

"Well, we sure hope it does," I say as the three of us pass out of the woods and I lay eyes upon a sight not even I have seen before.

http://i281.photobucket.com/albums/kk201/freddypowell/Emerald_City.jpg

"Welcome to the Emerald City, Blue," Bufkin says, excited to be home.

MST3K 4ever

11-13-2011, 01:36 PM

"I know the Atomic Skull." I point to the man on screen with a head in the form of a skull covered in radioactive fire. "His real name is Joe Martin, and he regularly suffers from severe hallucinations where he believes that his actions are actually acts of heroism. Whether he's in his right mind at any given time, or if he's in the middle of a deep hallucination can be incredibly hard to judge."

As much as I want to help him, Joe's mental instabilities are inconsequential right now. If he's thrown in with people who see nothing wrong with launching an attack on the United Nations, then he needs to be taken down along with the rest of them. "Along with radiation manipulation, Joe's can fly and is strong and durable enough to trade punches with me without breaking much of a sweat. Besides that, he's inherently radioactive, so I'd suggest keeping your distance if you can."

Another face on the monitor catches my eye, but it takes me a moment to recognize it and really affirm who I think it is. "And him? The big gray one? He looks like Umberto Maroni, a high ranking mobster from Gotham City. He went missing more than a year ago." I've been keeping up on some of the country's big time crime figures for a good while now, and while it's not unheard of for some to go missing, to say the least, it's not exactly common to see one suddenly reappear on the news in the form a gray hulking monster. "I have no idea how he became like that, but it's definitely him."

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom floats away from the screen and says, "The destruction of the U-N was their opening salvo and it's safe to say it won't be their last. Sooner or later they're going to strike again. With that in mind; should we make a public appearance to draw them out. Maybe send them a message."

She turns to the group and says, "It's full-hearty and dangerous I know, but if we pick up the gauntlet then maybe we can set up the next encounter and potentially draw them away from populated areas."

The Atom shakes her head and says, "If anyone else has a better idea let's hear it. There's some very nervous and frightened people right now and they need some sort of assurance."

Bounce

11-13-2011, 09:09 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
Greater Houston Area
Texas

This was perhaps the easiest task that NASA had asked him to perform. Traveling between Earth and space exerted a fair amount of effort, particularly if Lor-Zod was being asked to lift something normally hauled by the space shuttle orbiter. Even more so if it was the orbiter itself that Lor was expected to lift. Even sprinting at his full speed across the Arizona desert had required a modicum of the young Kryptonian's strength. But this? This was as simple as taking a deep breath.

In many respects, it was rather like blowing out a really large birthday cake candle. The arctic blast of air from the boy's lips howling like the north wind as it pushed back the advance of the flames and coated the smoldering wood in a layer of frost that extinguished the glowing embers. In the thicker parts, the child had escaped to above the clouds in order to avoid drawing the smoke into his lungs, but in surprisingly little time the son of Zod had removed the chemical factory's storage tanks from any immediate danger.

With that done, he supposed the burning houses just a few miles away ought to be the next priority.

Rising high into the air, the young Kryptonian looked over the frosted region that had been ablaze just minutes before. A smile briefly touching his face as he imagined Dabney telling him that he'd done a good job.

He supposed it felt... nice... doing stuff like this, even if father wouldn't have approved.

* * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * *

NASA Pike Island Research Facility
Metropolis, Massachusetts

Dabney Donovan gave a weary sigh as the satellite feed changed to show the changes on the ground in Texas. Thermal imaging confirmed that the fires around the chemical factory had been put out. The forest service could now move in to assess any remaining danger, leaving the fire departments to concern themselves with the housing areas once Superboy had done the same there.

The feeling of being on edge was definitely wearing on him, almost like being in mission control for a space shuttle mission. In contrast to the high tempo of shuttle operations, where every system and its back-up were monitored constantly, Project SUPERBOY operations were usually far more laid back. They'd track the boy on GPS for as far as they could going into space, but by and large the missions assigned to Superboy were pretty much Point A to Point B.

This was a situation were oversight and communications were critical however, as conditions of the assignment were subject to change. Of course, even though a child their 'astronaut' was able to do some thinking for himself. Without the need for instruction, Donovan could already see that the boy was tracking toward the urban fires.

Superboy knew what he needed to do. That, at least, gave Dabney something he could breathe easy about.

"Initial report filed by the Forest Services says that the fire was out briefly, but had crossed into a tract of land reclaimed from a landfill. They think a pocket of methane gas is what ignited and caused the backdraft," Fionna Ross commented, the woman appearing on one of the screens by VTC from the Department of Metahuman Affairs office in D.C.

"Must have been one hell of a re-flash," Dabney remarked idly, scanning the local news channels that were being streamed in from Texas for any sign that the cameras might be covering Superboy.

"Sir, there's a missing children's report that's just come in for the area where Superboy is," another of the science interns reported, this one coming from the fax with a printout that was marked from the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children.

"In the middle of the fire?" Donovan demanded, grabbing the fax report and scanning over the data. Suzie Christensen, age 7. The Woodlands, Texas. Dabney looked over to the Google Earth track of Superboy's location. The Woodlands, Texas.

"Apparently some kids were playing hide and seek before the evacuation. One of them hasn't been found," the intern repeated from information on the printout.

"Get me the link up with Superboy." Reaching out a hand, Donovan took back the bluetooth piece that he'd removed earlier. Slipping it over his right ear, the man glanced back to the thermal satellite imagery.

If a kid was in the middle of that mess, Dabney could only hope she was still alive. Sending an eight year old to retrieve a crispy corpse sounded like the kind of thing that could have NASA paying for child psychologists for years to come...

* * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * *

Greater Houston Area
Texas

"I have to rescue a girl?" Lor-Zod complained, dropping through a break in the smoke to drift over the smoldering remains of what had been a cul-de-sac community. The fires had already advanced over this neighborhood, charring a path across what had been a tranquil urban area just miles up the road from the Houston Metropolitan Area. If he had to watch for people - assuming that girls qualified as 'people' - then this next part wasn't going to be as easy as the first. "Can't it be a squirrel or something? I mean, would the world really be that bad off with one less girl?"

"Look, kid, this is happening. So just come to peace with it."

The boy frowned as his eyes darted to the right in a vain effort at glaring at the bluetooth piece that was to small to even be picked up by his peripheral vision.

"Name is Suzie Christensen. She was last reported in the neighborhood you're over now."

Lor-Zod bet Superman didn't have to rescue dumb girls. Skimming over the rooftops, the boy buzzed just ahead of the fire's leading edge as he activated his x-ray vision and scanned the houses. The roar of the fire, the cacophony of sirens, and the ambient noise from the city of Houston made it impossible for the boy to use his super-hearing to try and listen for the girl.

Fourth house on Elm Street. Stowed away in the attic. The boy could make out the shape of a girl curled up and crying as she rocked back and forth. The fire was just a few feet away, the smoke already starting to enter the home.

Lor-Zod took a deep breath as he braced himself. He hoped his invulnerability extended to cooties...

Andy C.

11-13-2011, 11:54 PM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

"Come on........where are you....?"

The night air is cold and dry, the wind whistling through the steel-and-concrete canyons of the East End of Gotham City. Street lights below give off a dull orange glow, the ambient light pollution blotting out the stars and muting the night sky into a murky dark brown. Police sirens wail in the distance as squad cars speed towards Wayne Tower.

On any other night, the shiver that runs up my spine would be one of excitement, the thrill of adventure, the energizing sense of danger. Tonight, though, it's fear.

A few hours ago, Mister Wayne's penthouse was attacked. I don't know who was behind the attack or why, but I know it ended with him being thrown off of the balcony and down to the streets below. And the worst part is, it's my fault.

If I hadn't attacked him the night before, if I hadn't let my anger misguide me into trying to kill the very man who wanted to protect me, he wouldn't have been as injured as he was, and could have been able to fight back. If I hadn't been asleep when the intruder attacked, I could have helped fight him off, or at least distracted him long enough for Mister Wayne to take him down.

I spent over a year preparing to kill Batman. Now I'm terrified that someone else might have succeeded.

Judging from where he fell, there's about a four-square-block area where he could have landed. Considering the severity of the possible injuries that fall would cause, even in his armored suit, there's no way he's gotten far....if he's still alive.

I grabbed some equipment from the Cave before heading out: a utility harness, a high-tech grapnel gun that puts to shame the paramilitary climbing gear I use, a clip of Mister Wayne's "batarangs" just in case the attacker is still out there, and a pair of thermographic night-vision goggles. Some of the gear he's got down there is military grade stuff, some of it has got to be custom-made for himself. Eventually I'm going to have to get custom equipment of my own, but I didn't have time to shop around.

Going along the ledges of rooftops, I scan the streets below, looking for heat signatures. The process is agonizingly slow, but it's the only way I can think of to look for him. And eventually, it pays off.

Huddled in an alley behind a dumpster, I see a heat signature of human size, and draped over it are the tattered remains of his cape. A disheveled man, on some kind of drugs judging by the way he's moving, approaches the figure with a knife.

"Oh no you don't," I say, leaping down behind the knife-wielding druggie, then dispatching him with a hard kick to the back of the head.

Approaching the crumpled figure, I see that it's him. He's hurt worse than anyone else I've ever seen, he may not live through the night......but it's him.

"Batman," I say, crouching down to him, careful not to use his real name in case the druggie isn't completely unconscious. "Batman, it's me. Can you hear me? Are you.....oh God......are you still there?"

Byrd Man

11-14-2011, 10:27 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

The guard pushed the black British man down the corridor of the prison. They had stripped him of his suit and had replaced it with a dingy gray prison outfit. The guard shouted at him in the Hausa language.

His eyes lingered as he passed a room where a white man with shaggy red hair was sitting in a wooden chair, a spotlight in his eyes.

Name: Rick Flag
Codename: Flagman
Abilities: Skilled marksman, natural leader
Role: Task Force X Field Leader

The guard kept pushing the man to the end of the corridor and shoved him into a cell. The door slammed shut behind him and locked. The man paced around the room and his tongue instinctively rubbed the fresh filling in his back molar. The guards full cavity search had missed the new filling and the small GPS device in it. The man sat down on the edge of his cot and leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed.

He was mentally preparing for the task to come.

Name: Benjamin Turner
Codename: Bronze Tiger
Abilities: Expert in hand to hand combat and stealth
Role: Tactical support

*****

Kaduna, Nigeria

The middle aged black woman stood at the head of the table inside the hotel room. Gathered around her were three men and one woman.

"Listen up, people..."

Name: Special Agent Dr. Amanda Waller
Codename: The Wall
Role: Task Force X leader

"Turner's tracking chip finally came to a stop on the outskirts of Kano. It's about 150 miles west of Kaduna. I ordered a UAV to fly over the location and it's a prison facility that matches our intel."

"When do we move in?" The woman with dark hair and pale skin.

Name: Eve Eden
Codename: Nightshade
Powers: Light manipulation, teleportation
Role: Infiltration, transportation

"We need Turner to get eyes on Flag before we try any sort of exfiltration. I've got it set it up to meet with Turner at the prison tomorrow morning. I'm going undercover as his lawyer."

"No way in hell you're going in there alone," the man to Waller's right said in a gruff voice. He wore a glove on his right hand.

Name: CLASSIFIED
Codename: Sarge Steel
Role: Intelligence

"Don't worry, Sarge. I ain't going in alone. I expect my guardian angel to be looking out for me. Ain't that right, Floyd and Vertigo?"

"I don't think any goddamn guardian angel could shoot half as good as me."

Name: Floyd Lawton
Codename: Deadshot
Abilities: Expert marksman
Role: Sniper

"When I go, I'm gonna need some recording devices on my person. Klutter, you got anything like that with us?"

"I can rig something up," the skinny man with glasses said.

Name: Noah Kuttler
Codename: Calculator
Abilities: Skilled hacker
Role: Technological support

"Good. Alright, that's it for now. Let's get working on tomorrow morning. We're out of here and on our way to Kano at 0600."

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
0545 Hours

The sun wouldn't begin to rise for another thirty minutes, but the change of the guard was already underway. The night shift guards were clocking out while day shift guards all came in to begin their shift.

It was during this lull that Lawton got into position.

Decked out in a desert camouflage Ghillie suit, he navigated slowly across the sands outside the prison. In his hands was a sniper rifle with desert camo painted on the barrel and suppressor.

He pulled up and stopped when he was five hundred yards away from the prison.

"Deadshot to The Wall, I'm in position. Calibrating my rifle now."

"Roger that, Deadshot. Just hang tight. It's gonna heat up real fast when the sun comes up, but you got more than enough water in your Ghillie to last you the day and into the night."

"Yeah, yeah. Just wake me when you get ready to go in..."

1125 Hours

The jeep tore across the dirt road towards the prison. It stopped at the entrance to the prison. Out stepped Waller and Nightshade, both women dressed in conservative dress clothes.

"We're with the British consul," Waller told the guard at the entrance. She was talking in a faux British accent. "And we're here to see our client, Mister Smith."

"I'm sorry, the prison if off-limits to all-"

"No," she said sternly. "I have my ID and my client has a right to be represented by his home country on these trumped up charges!"

"I-"

"No. I'm done talking with you. I want to speak to the person in charge or I will call the British PM himself and a international incident will be on your head! Do you want that?"

The guard stammered before finally turning around and running into the prison. Within five minutes, the two women were inside the office of the prison administrator.

"I am sorry for the hassle," the man said with a smile. "I do not mean to upset any of the British government's wishes."

While the man spoke, Waller fiddled with the second button on her blouse. Inside the button was a micro camera.

"There we go," Calculator's voice came in through her earpiece. '"I'm running his face through the database. We should know who he is in just a minute..."

"Well, when can I possibly see Mister Smith?"

"You mean the man who tries to con my people out of millions of dollars?"

"If this is the same man who is also a British citizen, then, yes. After all, he has a right to see us."

"Fine," the administrator said with a sigh. "But you will both be escorted by a guard at all times."

"Very well. Jennifer, you can wait out in the car."

"Yes, ma'am."

While Nightshade headed back to the jeep, a guard led Waller to the prison block.

"Got a hit on the warden. He's Colonel Samuel Ubuntu, part of the military tribunal that's leading the Muslim rebels. He's suspected of taking part in ethnic cleansing of Christians back in the 90's. The UN investigated, but he was never brought up on charges."

Waller tapped the earpiece to acknowledge. She was led to the visitation room where a shackled Ben Turner was waiting.

"Hello, Mister Smith. I'm Misses Wilson. I'm with the British consul's office. I'm here to see if we can get rid of these trumped up charges."

"Right," Turner said in his British accent. "By the by, cut out the mister stuff. Just call me by my nickname."

"Which is?"

"Flag," Turner said. "My friends call me Flag."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be waiting for you to get out."

Waller reached into her purse and pulled out a hardcover book.

"Is it alright if I give him this?"

"What is it?" The guard asked as he snatched it from her grasp. He thumbed through the book and shook the pages. "No contraband inside. Book is okay."

The guard handed it to Turner. He talked with Waller for fifteen more minutes before being lead back to his cell. Waller was led back to the jeep she and Nightshade had rode in. She climbed into the car while Nightshade started it up and pulled away.

"Alright, folks. Turner gave me a positive confirmation. I'm giving us the green light. Rendezvous with Turner and Flag is at midnight."

Inside the prison, the cell door slammed behind Turner. He waited until the guard was gone before he started on the book. Turner pried open the hardcover's spine and carefully removed a lockpick from inside the spine. He chuckled as he saw the book's title.

The Great Escape.

At least she had a sense of humor.

*****

IC: Rick Flag

My torturer yanks my head out of the bucket of ice water and I cough so bad that my whole body aches and spasms. The door opens up and the man who's been interrogating walks in. This time he has a pistol in his hands.

"Are you British? You must be. Why else would two nosy British consul *****es come to my prison and nose around?"

The man's two cronies lift me up on to my feet. The interrogator places the barrel of the gun inside my mouth. My heart races as he pulls back the hammer of the gun.

"Talk goddamn you! Do you know how many people I've tortured! How many people I've had beg me to kill them? Just so that I could ease their pain and suffering. Who are you to refuse me?! WHO ARE YOU?!"

He yanks the gun from my mouth and pistol whips me hard in the head. I fall back and hit the floor with hard thump. My vision's blurry and my eye is already beginning to swell as he talks.

"Your country has abandoned you, nobody cares about you. You are worthless to me. I give you one final chance, just because you are a true solider and I respect that. If you do not reach out to me or my people and tell me who or what you are, then I will put a bullet in your brain.You have until midnight to decide."

With that, the interrogator leaves the room and his two cronies drag me back to my cell. Back in the darkness he calls home...I begin to wonder. Maybe he's right. That goddamn rat Faraday sold me out, left me for dead. If they wanted me, they would have at least tried to make a deal.

Instead, I'm here...all by myself. Alone...

DINK!
DINK!
DINK!

What's that sound?

DINK!

Someone tapping on a pipe somewhere...but not at a steady pace. No, I recognize that...it's Morse code. I listen to the taps for a minute before the message becomes clear. Just hearing it fills me with a new resolve.

Flag. BT. B-out. 2345 hrs. B ready

Goddamn...It's him. I don't know how, but it's him.

Flag, Bronze Tiger. Breakout at 11:45 PM. Be ready.

Don't worry, Ben.

I'll be ready.

MST3K 4ever

11-14-2011, 02:09 PM

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6221/6332727232_86ae1eff7a.jpg

Oswald watches a secret video feed from a dock in the waterfront district.

He is giving his represenative instructions through an ear-peice as the shipping manifest is being reviewed.

Oswald takes a sip of his chardoney and says to the microphone, "It appears everything is in order give him the briefcase and begin off-loading into the warehouse. Use the trap door entrance in warehouse 13 in the north sector. I expect everything done within the next two hours any longer than that kiss you paycheks goodbye for this one. This shipment is too valuble to take chances with."

He then sends out a coded e-mail to his associates:

Weapons are being off loaded. First come first serve. Payment on delivery. Cash only! Manifest PDF attachment forth coming. Open for business for only two days. After that remaining shipment to highest bider bids to start at 10 million.

Penguin

The Penguin then calls Don Torasimo He says, "Ahh Robert this is The Penguin. How are you and the family doing?"

Robert replies, "Very well Penguin and you my friend?"

Penguin says, "Quiet well thank you, and thank you for the clean-up the other night your men did a spectacular job. I'm calling to inform you that the shipment has arrived and in 24 hours per our agreement you get the first pickings."

Robert says, "Excellent! Did you receive my order?"

Penguin says, "Indeed all of it is very reasonable except I can only give you five of the KXJ Assualt Rifles those are the big ticket items this year and you're getting them at a discount as it is."

Robert says, "I can live with that. I had to try."

Penguin says, "Of course my friend I would as well. So if nothing else comes up come be here tomorrow and we'll make the final arrangements."
Robert says, "All-right then. Pleasure doing business with you as always."

Penguin says, "Likewise old friend."

The two men hang up and Oswald looks at his watch.

Uh-oh better get moving don't want to be late for the Orphange Fund-Raiser.

Oswald quickly calls for his limo to meet him out front.

Byrd Man

11-15-2011, 04:11 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

Matthews paces around the room while Spencer watches me impassively.

"Here's how it's going to go," Matthews starts. He ticks off points on his fingers as he talks. "One, our deal does not leave this room. Only the three of us are to be privy of your efforts to inform on the GCPD. Two, we are the ones who make contact with you. Do not attempt to contact us under any circumstances. Three, you do what we say when we say it. I know you have a track record of being...'independent' but that ends when you work for us. Fourth and finally, I'm not out to arrest some schmuck beat cop with ulcers. I'm going hunting for the big game. I want Gordon, Essen, Bullock. I want some ****ing antlers I can hang up on my wall. If you can't follow these rules, then we will have a problem. Are we going to have any problems, Inspector?"

"No, sir. I sign those immunity papers, and I'll do whatever the hell you want."

"That's gonna have to wait," Matthews says, looking at his wristwatch. "For now, I'll leave you in the care of Special Agent Spencer. When you make contact, more often that not it'll be through her. Best of luck."

With that, Matthews leaves the hotel room and I'm left alone with Spencer.

"Before we get down to any deals and immunity, I need something from you. A show of good faith. Hard evidence that you have information that can lead to the arrest of dirty cops. What do you have for us, Nygma?"

I hold my tongue from cussing out loud. ****ing pigs.

"Not sure if I feel comfortable talking without fear of prosecution."

"Listen, I don't have time for your crap. You want to play games, that's fine. No immunity. Just remember that you're the type that the bull in Stonegate love to have a good time with. By the time they get done with you, you won't be able to sit down again."

I sigh and look away from her. I stay quiet for a few moments before breaking the silence.

"There's this sergeant in the Northeast. Dylan Murphy. He runs a protection racket with all the immigrant store owners in Bennett Beach."

"That's the best you got?"

"Nope, but you think I'll blow my wad in one meeting? You got another thing coming, lady."

"Fine. I'll check this out. But for now, we're done. I'll be in touch."

Spencer stands up and shows me the way out the door.

*****

IC: Vic Sage

I take a final drag off my cigarette before tossing it to the ground and stomping it out. The Ace Chemical plant looms in front of me. I walk inside the abandoned factory and head to the scene of the crime.

The back office where Detective Marcus Driver was killed.

Two days on the case and reading on the files led me back here. There were only a few crime scene photos and the forensic report that came back was sloppy to say the least.

I look over the photos and walk through the room, imagining exactly where everything was the night Driver was murdered. I have the file under my arm. I pull it out and lay the photos out on the floor.

Okay, Driver was killed when he had his throat slit. Driver was a big guy, he'd be hard to hold down. The toxicology report said he had a bunch of Benzodiazepine in his system. So, whoever killed him had to drug him first. They had to get close to drug him. So...someone he trusted?

I walk over to the desk where Driver's body was found. The blood was pouring out and to the right on the desk. So, that means the cut probably went from left to right. The killer was probably right handed. And short, judging by the angle of the cut. No taller than 5'7. No wallet or cellphone was found on Driver's body. A murder out here in a deserted location. It was somebody he knew. He was killed to keep him quiet.

But why?

I go about picking up the photos and case files. I pull out my cellphone once they're all back in place.

"Stan? It's Vic. I need some help....yeah, I need all the case files about the last few cases Driver worked and I also need all his financial information."

IC: Vic Sage

I get up from my desk and walk down my apartment's hallway into the bedroom. I'm still going over the reports in my mind, even as I sit down on my sagging bed.

Stan sends me all the files I asked for and most of it's run of the mill stuff. Last few cases Driver investigated were all organized crime related. The Triads' bootleg DVD operation, Some lieutenant inside the Red Mafiya running girls out the back of his strip club. The last case he worked is paydirt.

The Flamebird herself.

Bette Kane's body was found six months ago in some back alley. According to the report, she was beaten to death. Before her death, she was given a type of torture that turns the stomach a homicide vet like me. Her death was in all the papers, even made national news. The two officers who worked the case? Detective Marcus Driver and his supervisor, Inspector Edward Nygma.

Wasn't two weeks after Bette's murder the story of the Kane family got even more tragic. Both Bette's father and sister were found murdered in their homes and the mother cracked from it all. She's in some mental hospital in Florida.

The murders of all three Kanes are unsolved. The theory on Harold and Kate Kane is that it was a home invasion gone bad. The theory on Bette...well, nobody knows what the hell could motivate someone to do what they did to that girl.

My mind keeps going back to Nygma.

Nygma.

This has nothing to do with the Holiday case...but just like that case, his fingerprints are all over the thing. It's the daily and weekly status reports that has me wondering. At first, Nygma's reports were filled with information on information. He was padding the reports, he always had a talent for turning a simple traffic stop look like the arrest of Pablo Escobar on paper.

But, a few days before Driver died, the report style changes. They're basic, just simple. "No new leads. No further information from witness reinterviews." Stuff like that. Then, two days after that, the day after the Kanes were killed, Nygma's reporting style goes back to the normal padded style.

The date of Nygma's change in style reminds me of something, I get off the bed and walk back to the files. Stan also sent over a copy of Driver's bank accounts and all the transactions leading up to his death. Apparently, he bought a motel room a week before he was murdered, about five days after Bette was murdered.

There's nothing in the original homicide file that indicates the detectives looked into the lead, so I go to the motel and see the desk clerk.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"Yeah, I know it's been a few months ago, but I was wondering if you remembered this guy."

I show the clerk a photo of Driver, from his ID badge.

"You a cop or something?"

"A P.I. unlike cops," I say as I slide the man a fifty. "I know how to be subtle."

He takes the fifty and nods. "Yeah, I remember him. Real weirdo. Coming and going all hours of the night. I gave him room 23...I went in there one time and there was some weird s***."

"Like how weird?"

"Remember that rich girl that got murdered? It was like a goddamn shrine to her. Newspaper articles, crime scene photos, police reports. It spooked me something fierce. I was afraid to touch anything. I left and called the cops. They didn't get to it till a few days later, because a backlog on tips and stuff, but by then that son of a ***** in the suit stole it all."

"What son of a ***** in a suit?"

"I don't know. Tall, lanky guy in a green suit."

Goddammit.

"Was it this man?"

I hand the clerk Nygma's GCPD personnel photo and he nods.

"Yeah. He came in the day after I last saw the crazy man. He must have stolen all the stuff."

Nygma.

Once again, it all comes back to him.

*****

IC: Edward Nygma

My leg bounces nervously as I sit in the waiting room at Gotham General Hospital. The ICU only lets so many people in at a time. After a few more minutes of waiting, a nurse calls me back to his room.

Laying on the bed in front of me in Jim Gordon, every muscle in his body atrophied by a nearly six month long coma.

"Eddie," he wheezes. "Thanks for coming to see me."

"What else could I do, boss? I had to see how you were doing."

Five months ago, I tried to kill him in this very hospital bed. I was interrupted by his daughter.

"Good. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. As you can see, it's going to take some time."

"Well, the PD is in good hands while you get better. Essen has been doing a heck of a job."

"So have you, from what I've been told. They say you kicked the Batman's ass so bad he hasn't been seen."

"Probably licking his wounds."

I hope that son of a ***** is dead. I hope Bane tore his head off.

"Do you know who shot you, sir? Remember what they looked like?"

"No. All I remember from that day was leaving for work that morning. The rest is a blank...Look, Eddie...I wanted to talk to you about something else today. I wanted to talk about the future."

He called me Eddie. I hate when he does that.

"After what happened to me, I realize that life is important. I know my life before the shooting wasn't honorable..."

You condoned drug dealers and killers, you had people killed in your name. You were a goddamn monster.

"You did what you thought was necessary."

"No. I was out of control and I want to change. I need to change. It's more than just about me or you...it's about everyone else. The lives we lead. The way it can taint our souls. I can't live with that any longer. I'm going to try and turn over a new leaf and work for a better tomorrow."

Bull****. A leopard never changes it's spots.

"But the most important thing right now is making sure the sins of the past don't ruin our better tomorrow. The FBI and US Attorney are sticking their nose where they don't belong. Mum is the word."

You son of a *****.

"I mean, I've been good to you, haven't I?"

Yeah, except for the times you tried to have me killed and that one time you put a loaded gun to my head.

"Of course you have."

"Good. Just remember that deal. When I come back, if I ever come back, I'll need a new deputy commissioner. A few years after that, the chair is yours."

I wish I could have killed you all those months ago.

"That means a lot to me, sir. And I want to say...I consider you almost like a father figure to me."

My old man was a drunk who loved to kick the **** outta me. I was glad when he died. You fit right in.

"Thank you, Eddie. I really don't know what to say to that."

I plan on selling you out to the FBI. What would you say if you knew that, ***hole?

"Don't say anything, just know that it's true."

I could probably still get away with killing you now. Your whole body is so weak, it wouldn't take much.

"I have to go, sir. Duty calls. I'll be back tomorrow or the day after that to see how you're doing."

"Good, come see me soon."

"You know I will," I say with my best fake smile.

I hope you spend the rest of your days in prison.

Byrd Man

11-16-2011, 12:54 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
0545 Hours

The sun wouldn't begin to rise for another thirty minutes, but the change of the guard was already underway. The night shift guards were clocking out while day shift guards all came in to begin their shift.

It was during this lull that Lawton got into position.

Decked out in a desert camouflage Ghillie suit, he navigated slowly across the sands outside the prison. In his hands was a sniper rifle with desert camo painted on the barrel and suppressor.

He pulled up and stopped when he was five hundred yards away from the prison.

"Deadshot to The Wall, I'm in position. Calibrating my rifle now."

"Roger that, Deadshot. Just hang tight. It's gonna heat up real fast when the sun comes up, but you got more than enough water in your Ghillie to last you the day and into the night."

"Yeah, yeah. Just wake me when you get ready to go in..."

1125 Hours

The jeep tore across the dirt road towards the prison. It stopped at the entrance to the prison. Out stepped Waller and Nightshade, both women dressed in conservative dress clothes.

"We're with the British consul," Waller told the guard at the entrance. She was talking in a faux British accent. "And we're here to see our client, Mister Smith."

"I'm sorry, the prison if off-limits to all-"

"No," she said sternly. "I have my ID and my client has a right to be represented by his home country on these trumped up charges!"

"I-"

"No. I'm done talking with you. I want to speak to the person in charge or I will call the British PM himself and a international incident will be on your head! Do you want that?"

The guard stammered before finally turning around and running into the prison. Within five minutes, the two women were inside the office of the prison administrator.

"I am sorry for the hassle," the man said with a smile. "I do not mean to upset any of the British government's wishes."

While the man spoke, Waller fiddled with the second button on her blouse. Inside the button was a micro camera.

"There we go," Calculator's voice came in through her earpiece. '"I'm running his face through the database. We should know who he is in just a minute..."

"Well, when can I possibly see Mister Smith?"

"You mean the man who tries to con my people out of millions of dollars?"

"If this is the same man who is also a British citizen, then, yes. After all, he has a right to see us."

"Fine," the administrator said with a sigh. "But you will both be escorted by a guard at all times."

"Very well. Jennifer, you can wait out in the car."

"Yes, ma'am."

While Nightshade headed back to the jeep, a guard led Waller to the prison block.

"Got a hit on the warden. He's Colonel Samuel Ubuntu, part of the military tribunal that's leading the Muslim rebels. He's suspected of taking part in ethnic cleansing of Christians back in the 90's. The UN investigated, but he was never brought up on charges."

Waller tapped the earpiece to acknowledge. She was led to the visitation room where a shackled Ben Turner was waiting.

"Hello, Mister Smith. I'm Misses Wilson. I'm with the British consul's office. I'm here to see if we can get rid of these trumped up charges."

"Right," Turner said in his British accent. "By the by, cut out the mister stuff. Just call me by my nickname."

"Which is?"

"Flag," Turner said. "My friends call me Flag."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be waiting for you to get out."

Waller reached into her purse and pulled out a hardcover book.

"Is it alright if I give him this?"

"What is it?" The guard asked as he snatched it from her grasp. He thumbed through the book and shook the pages. "No contraband inside. Book is okay."

The guard handed it to Turner. He talked with Waller for fifteen more minutes before being lead back to his cell. Waller was led back to the jeep she and Nightshade had rode in. She climbed into the car while Nightshade started it up and pulled away.

"Alright, folks. Turner gave me a positive confirmation. I'm giving us the green light. Rendezvous with Turner and Flag is at midnight."

Inside the prison, the cell door slammed behind Turner. He waited until the guard was gone before he started on the book. Turner pried open the hardcover's spine and carefully removed a lockpick from inside the spine. He chuckled as he saw the book's title.

The Great Escape.

At least she had a sense of humor.

*****

IC: Rick Flag

My torturer yanks my head out of the bucket of ice water and I cough so bad that my whole body aches and spasms. The door opens up and the man who's been interrogating walks in. This time he has a pistol in his hands.

"Are you British? You must be. Why else would two nosy British consul *****es come to my prison and nose around?"

The man's two cronies lift me up on to my feet. The interrogator places the barrel of the gun inside my mouth. My heart races as he pulls back the hammer of the gun.

"Talk goddamn you! Do you know how many people I've tortured! How many people I've had beg me to kill them? Just so that I could ease their pain and suffering. Who are you to refuse me?! WHO ARE YOU?!"

He yanks the gun from my mouth and pistol whips me hard in the head. I fall back and hit the floor with hard thump. My vision's blurry and my eye is already beginning to swell as he talks.

"Your country has abandoned you, nobody cares about you. You are worthless to me. I give you one final chance, just because you are a true solider and I respect that. If you do not reach out to me or my people and tell me who or what you are, then I will put a bullet in your brain.You have until midnight to decide."

With that, the interrogator leaves the room and his two cronies drag me back to my cell. Back in the darkness he calls home...I begin to wonder. Maybe he's right. That goddamn rat Faraday sold me out, left me for dead. If they wanted me, they would have at least tried to make a deal.

Instead, I'm here...all by myself. Alone...

DINK!
DINK!
DINK!

What's that sound?

DINK!

Someone tapping on a pipe somewhere...but not at a steady pace. No, I recognize that...it's Morse code. I listen to the taps for a minute before the message becomes clear. Just hearing it fills me with a new resolve.

Flag. BT. B-out. 2345 hrs. B ready

Goddamn...It's him. I don't know how, but it's him.

Flag, Bronze Tiger. Breakout at 11:45 PM. Be ready.

Don't worry, Ben.

I'll be ready.

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
2330 Hours

It was dark inside Ben Turner's prison cell, but he stood up and walked towards the tiny window that looked out on the night. The land surrounding the prison was dry and arid, but there were some plant life. This part of the country was the beginning of the mighty Sahara.

There were stars lighting up the night sky from millions of light years away, but it was a closer light that caught Turner's attention. From off in the distance, a light flashed on and off twice.

Without a second thought, Turner turned to his cot and pulled the lockpick from out under the mattress. He walked over to the cell door and began to work on its lock. Within thirty seconds, the lock snapped and the cell door swung open. Turner took the lockpick and held it like a knife as he crept into the corridor.

*****

IC: Rick Flag

"Almost time," my guard says from outside my cell. They're supposed to execute me in about a half hour Going on who knows how long in this hell hole and they still haven't broke me. So now they're going to kill me.

That's their plan, anyway. Take it from someone who's had experience in these matters, plans have a way of being blown to hell and back when you least expect them.

The guard in front of me turns around to look down the corridor. I slowly slide off my bunk and creep across the floor until I'm within reach of the guard's neck.

"Uck!" He cries out as I reach through the bars and wrap my hands around his neck, slamming him into the bars. The guard struggles against me, trying to reach for the pistol on his hip. I end it all with a savage twist of the neck. His dead body falls limp to the ground. I reach for the keys on his belt and look through them. I find the key to my cell and open it. I grab the pistol off the guard and chamber a round. I'm two steps out the cell when footsteps echo down the corridor. I hold the gun out and get ready to squeeze the trigger when...

"But that gun down..."

Ben Turner himself steps out of the shadows, a lockpick in his hands.

"I'm here to rescue you."

"About goddamn time," I croak out. The first words I've spoken in I don't know how long. "You're early. I almost shot you."

"My message was 11:30. Not my fault you suck at Morse code. We gotta go. The Wall is waiting."

"Who the hell is that?"

"Don't worry," Ben says with a chuckle. "You'll find out soon enough. Now, let's go."

"Not before we make one little stop first. I want to say a proper goodbye to the ***hole who tortured me all this time."

Ben nods and he leads the way down the dark corridor with me right behind him, pistol in my hands and ready to fire.

Byrd Man

11-16-2011, 03:03 PM

The Atom shakes her head and says, "If anyone else has a better idea let's hear it. There's some very nervous and frightened people right now and they need some sort of assurance."

"First things first, I think we need to talk about how we can face...whatever that was, in a head on fight."

I turn to GL.

"I know we came here for a different reason, but I think we should talk about adding more firepower to our lineup and Green Lantern is that firepower."

Spike_x1

11-16-2011, 03:18 PM

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/UltSupermanBanner-1.jpg"First things first, I think we need to talk about how we can face...whatever that was, in a head on fight."

I turn to GL.

"I know we came here for a different reason, but I think we should talk about adding more firepower to our lineup and Green Lantern is that firepower.""Agreed." I step to the large conference table in the center of the room. "And he's not the only one." Punching a few commands into the keyboard built into the table, a holographic monitor display lights up with the image of another costumed crimefighter from Metropolis.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/steel.jpg

"Dr. John Henry Irons has recently taken up the armored alias of "Steel" and has begun cleaning up certain areas of Metropolis, but I think he can do much more good on top of that, given the chance. He's an inventor and engineering genius, which could certainly be another boon to this team, and he has agreed to let me vouch for his membership candidacy."

Spike_x1

11-16-2011, 03:28 PM

OOC: Nothing to see here. Move along.

Byrd Man

11-16-2011, 03:29 PM

"Dr. John Henry Irons has recently taken up the armored alias of "Steel" and has begun cleaning up certain areas of Metropolis, but I think he can do much more good on top of that, given the chance. He's an inventor and engineering genius, which could certainly be another boon to this team, and he has agreed to let me vouch for his membership candidacy."

"That actually does remind me of someone else I met a few months back. Name of Green Arrow. He works out of Star City."

"Another green themed hero? You whore!"

"I met him first! But anyway, he's a heck of a hero. I know his MO of shooting arrows isn't exactly what you'd call a powerhouse, but he's just as effective at Batman with a percentage of the attitude."

MST3K 4ever

11-16-2011, 03:48 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/steel.jpg

"Dr. John Henry Irons has recently taken up the armored alias of "Steel" and has begun cleaning up certain areas of Metropolis, but I think he can do much more good on top of that, given the chance. He's an inventor and engineering genius, which could certainly be another boon to this team, and he has agreed to let me vouch for his membership candidacy."

The Atom says, "GL hey the guy has my vote, and Dr. Irons I know him. He's a good man and has all the makings of a first rate Justice Leaguer."

"That actually does remind me of someone else I met a few months back. Name of Green Arrow. He works out of Star City."

After hearing The Flash & GL go back and forth about Green Arrow she shakes her head and says, "Talk about the Odd Couple."

She chuckles and floats to the computer and jumps on a few keys.

Within seconds a list of Heroes from the database created by Checkmate appears.

The Atom floats away and says, "For those of us who don't know other heroes by name here are some other suggestions."

She closes her eyes for a second and then says, "The only other one I know of outside of you all is a guy named The Question, and trust me he's eccentric and very good at what he does, but unlike the playful banter between Flash & GL the banter between him and say Batman could get very tense."

Andy C.

11-17-2011, 01:35 AM

MST3K 4ever

11-17-2011, 02:26 PM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/wwsymbol-thumb.gif

"The more allies we have on our side, the better," I say, still only halfway paying attention to the names the other members are saying. "We don't know if this Legion of Doom has already shown its true strength, or if Vandal Savage has others in reserve."

I stare death at the image of Cheetah on the monitor, a smug grin on her face.

"When Flash and I encountered Cheetah, she was assisted by another woman, who could grow to gigantic proportions. Cheetah was also under the employ of an international terrorist organization called the Cult of Kobra. They've employed several super-powered murderers as well....many of whom have already tried to kill me."

Captain Nazi.....Dark Angel.....Silver Swan......and Kobra doubtless has more monsters under his thumb.

"Whatever Savage is planning, we need to gather as many of our fellow heroes as we can. The Legion has declared war on us; it is our duty to end this war before it has the chance to escalate."

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom says, "That's true Wonder Woman. Only two issues we don't know when or where they're gonna strike next. Which means we may not have a lot of time to get ready."

She floats to back to the screen studies it.

The Atom floats away and says, "To do what they did has got to take a lot of power, and every form of matter gives off some kind of signature or rhythm or ambient pulse. If we can get to the U-N we might be able to get some information that we can use later on, or at least maybe fill in some of the holes in the blanks."

The Atom then looks at the group and says, "What about this? Those of us who know other heroes go on a recruitment drive, and the rest take some portable scanners and take a road trip to the U-N. We meet back here in about two hours to compare notes. Assuming we don't have communicators now otherwise we can just keep in touch that way."

She steadies herself realizing the gravity of the situation and says, "They fired the first salvo it's time for us to get down to business otherwise their next salvo might be the last for humanity."

Byrd Man

11-18-2011, 09:09 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

IC: Vic Sage

I get up from my desk and walk down my apartment's hallway into the bedroom. I'm still going over the reports in my mind, even as I sit down on my sagging bed.

Stan sends me all the files I asked for and most of it's run of the mill stuff. Last few cases Driver investigated were all organized crime related. The Triads' bootleg DVD operation, Some lieutenant inside the Red Mafiya running girls out the back of his strip club. The last case he worked is paydirt.

The Flamebird herself.

Bette Kane's body was found six months ago in some back alley. According to the report, she was beaten to death. Before her death, she was given a type of torture that turns the stomach a homicide vet like me. Her death was in all the papers, even made national news. The two officers who worked the case? Detective Marcus Driver and his supervisor, Inspector Edward Nygma.

Wasn't two weeks after Bette's murder the story of the Kane family got even more tragic. Both Bette's father and sister were found murdered in their homes and the mother cracked from it all. She's in some mental hospital in Florida.

The murders of all three Kanes are unsolved. The theory on Harold and Kate Kane is that it was a home invasion gone bad. The theory on Bette...well, nobody knows what the hell could motivate someone to do what they did to that girl.

My mind keeps going back to Nygma.

Nygma.

This has nothing to do with the Holiday case...but just like that case, his fingerprints are all over the thing. It's the daily and weekly status reports that has me wondering. At first, Nygma's reports were filled with information on information. He was padding the reports, he always had a talent for turning a simple traffic stop look like the arrest of Pablo Escobar on paper.

But, a few days before Driver died, the report style changes. They're basic, just simple. "No new leads. No further information from witness reinterviews." Stuff like that. Then, two days after that, the day after the Kanes were killed, Nygma's reporting style goes back to the normal padded style.

The date of Nygma's change in style reminds me of something, I get off the bed and walk back to the files. Stan also sent over a copy of Driver's bank accounts and all the transactions leading up to his death. Apparently, he bought a motel room a week before he was murdered, about five days after Bette was murdered.

There's nothing in the original homicide file that indicates the detectives looked into the lead, so I go to the motel and see the desk clerk.

"Can I help you?" He asks.

"Yeah, I know it's been a few months ago, but I was wondering if you remembered this guy."

I show the clerk a photo of Driver, from his ID badge.

"You a cop or something?"

"A P.I. unlike cops," I say as I slide the man a fifty. "I know how to be subtle."

He takes the fifty and nods. "Yeah, I remember him. Real weirdo. Coming and going all hours of the night. I gave him room 23...I went in there one time and there was some weird s***."

"Like how weird?"

"Remember that rich girl that got murdered? It was like a goddamn shrine to her. Newspaper articles, crime scene photos, police reports. It spooked me something fierce. I was afraid to touch anything. I left and called the cops. They didn't get to it till a few days later, because a backlog on tips and stuff, but by then that son of a ***** in the suit stole it all."

"What son of a ***** in a suit?"

"I don't know. Tall, lanky guy in a green suit."

Goddammit.

"Was it this man?"

I hand the clerk Nygma's GCPD personnel photo and he nods.

"Yeah. He came in the day after I last saw the crazy man. He must have stolen all the stuff."

Nygma.

Once again, it all comes back to him.

*****

IC: Edward Nygma

My leg bounces nervously as I sit in the waiting room at Gotham General Hospital. The ICU only lets so many people in at a time. After a few more minutes of waiting, a nurse calls me back to his room.

Laying on the bed in front of me in Jim Gordon, every muscle in his body atrophied by a nearly six month long coma.

"Eddie," he wheezes. "Thanks for coming to see me."

"What else could I do, boss? I had to see how you were doing."

Five months ago, I tried to kill him in this very hospital bed. I was interrupted by his daughter.

"Good. I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. As you can see, it's going to take some time."

"Well, the PD is in good hands while you get better. Essen has been doing a heck of a job."

"So have you, from what I've been told. They say you kicked the Batman's ass so bad he hasn't been seen."

"Probably licking his wounds."

I hope that son of a ***** is dead. I hope Bane tore his head off.

"Do you know who shot you, sir? Remember what they looked like?"

"No. All I remember from that day was leaving for work that morning. The rest is a blank...Look, Eddie...I wanted to talk to you about something else today. I wanted to talk about the future."

He called me Eddie. I hate when he does that.

"After what happened to me, I realize that life is important. I know my life before the shooting wasn't honorable..."

You condoned drug dealers and killers, you had people killed in your name. You were a goddamn monster.

"You did what you thought was necessary."

"No. I was out of control and I want to change. I need to change. It's more than just about me or you...it's about everyone else. The lives we lead. The way it can taint our souls. I can't live with that any longer. I'm going to try and turn over a new leaf and work for a better tomorrow."

Bull****. A leopard never changes it's spots.

"But the most important thing right now is making sure the sins of the past don't ruin our better tomorrow. The FBI and US Attorney are sticking their nose where they don't belong. Mum is the word."

You son of a *****.

"I mean, I've been good to you, haven't I?"

Yeah, except for the times you tried to have me killed and that one time you put a loaded gun to my head.

"Of course you have."

"Good. Just remember that deal. When I come back, if I ever come back, I'll need a new deputy commissioner. A few years after that, the chair is yours."

I wish I could have killed you all those months ago.

"That means a lot to me, sir. And I want to say...I consider you almost like a father figure to me."

My old man was a drunk who loved to kick the **** outta me. I was glad when he died. You fit right in.

"Thank you, Eddie. I really don't know what to say to that."

I plan on selling you out to the FBI. What would you say if you knew that, ***hole?

"Don't say anything, just know that it's true."

I could probably still get away with killing you now. Your whole body is so weak, it wouldn't take much.

"I have to go, sir. Duty calls. I'll be back tomorrow or the day after that to see how you're doing."

"Good, come see me soon."

"You know I will," I say with my best fake smile.

I hope you spend the rest of your days in prison.

Kate Spencer is waiting in her FBI issued unmarked car as I pull up in my own car. The deserted field on the outskirts of Gotham is a better place to meet than the Gotham Ritz.

"Your tip planned out," she says as I step out of my car.

"I knew it would."

"Sergeant Murphy has been running a protection ring with the Bennett Beach storekeepers."

"What's your next move?"

"I've got my people shadowing him, getting more intel. But I need you for something again."

I narrow my eyes and look at Spencer.

"What?"

"Holiday. Something funny went down in that case. We're making it a RICO case so we need to establish the GCPD has a past history of corruption. Now why did you and the rest of the PD sweep it under the rug?"

"It is what it is. You read the report."

Holiday. That's off-limits. Lot of history. That's the case that made me...and the case that almost killed me. Drugs, corruption, and murder all wrapped up in a neat little bow. I had Gordon, Essen, and the whole MCU dead to rights...but I got my hands real dirty in the process.

"So Lieutenant Michael Akins just snapped and started killing people based on a goddamn whim?"

"Read the report, sweetheart. He snapped years ago when he son was murdered.'

Spencer flips me off and scowls.

"I am not nor ever have been your sweetheart. So, you can go to hell."

"So can you. Tell your boss I ain't saying **** until I get my immunity."

With that, I jump back in my car and drive off in a fury.

******

IC: Vic Sage

Back in my apartment, trying to fill the gaps. What did Nyma have to do with the Kane case? Why did Driver die? Why did the Kanes? Who killed Bette and who killed her family?

A knock at the door, I push all my case files away and go to the door. A dark-haired woman in a pants suit is waiting for me. There's a badge in her hands.

"Mister Sage? I'm Special Agent Kate Spencer, FBI. I wanted to have a few minutes of your time."

Carnage27

11-18-2011, 10:15 PM

:hal: Sinestro :hal:

Arkillo is the first to arrive. The large Vorn laughs and pats me on the back before taking a seat at the table with me. The monstrous being is a strong and fearless warrior, and one of the best surviving Green Lanterns. He served with distinction during the attack on Hand's forces, and since then he has been an excellent sounding board for my feelings on the new direction the New Guardians are taking the Corps.

Next, Katma Tui, one of my own race and a Violet Lantern, arrives. I've sworn her father I would do all in my power to protect her, and by placing her in my inner circle, I'm doing just that. She will be most prepared for the road ahead, along with the others I have placed my trust in.

"So," she asks, taking the third seat at the table, "should we get this meeting of the Sinestro Corps underway?"

I frown at the name. Ever since the charge and destruction of Hand's forces, there have been whispers that I've been trying to create my own fighting force. While the whispers aren't necessarily wrong, the assumption that I'm doing it to fulfill my own egotistical desires.

But they couldn't be more wrong. No, I'm training a select group to be prepared for the inevitable. These science experiments ordered by the New Guardians will lead to countless Corps members falling to the impurities. They were not meant to be used by only anyone. The weak among us will be swallowed by them, the lure of their power will be too great. And when push comes to shove, we will have a civil war on our hands.

But we will be ready. I'll make sure of that.

"No," I respond. "We are still waiting on another."

Almost immediately after I say that, the final member of my chosen warriors walks in. "Sorry I'm late. Hope I didn't hold anything up."

http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Carnage27/Blue_Lantern_Kyle_Rayner_001.jpg

Byrd Man

11-19-2011, 10:22 AM

The Atom then looks at the group and says, "What about this? Those of us who know other heroes go on a recruitment drive, and the rest take some portable scanners and take a road trip to the U-N. We meet back here in about two hours to compare notes. Assuming we don't have communicators now otherwise we can just keep in touch that way."

"I'll see if I can find Green Arrow. Don't think a masked dude with a robin hood fetish will be too hard to find...but it is California after all...umm, anyway, just to get all the formalities out of the way, I guess we should do a vote on GL? All those in favor?"

I raise my hand and nod at Lantern.

MST3K 4ever

11-19-2011, 10:39 AM

Byrd Man

11-19-2011, 11:05 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
2330 Hours

It was dark inside Ben Turner's prison cell, but he stood up and walked towards the tiny window that looked out on the night. The land surrounding the prison was dry and arid, but there were some plant life. This part of the country was the beginning of the mighty Sahara.

There were stars lighting up the night sky from millions of light years away, but it was a closer light that caught Turner's attention. From off in the distance, a light flashed on and off twice.

Without a second thought, Turner turned to his cot and pulled the lockpick from out under the mattress. He walked over to the cell door and began to work on its lock. Within thirty seconds, the lock snapped and the cell door swung open. Turner took the lockpick and held it like a knife as he crept into the corridor.

*****

IC: Rick Flag

"Almost time," my guard says from outside my cell. They're supposed to execute me in about a half hour Going on who knows how long in this hell hole and they still haven't broke me. So now they're going to kill me.

That's their plan, anyway. Take it from someone who's had experience in these matters, plans have a way of being blown to hell and back when you least expect them.

The guard in front of me turns around to look down the corridor. I slowly slide off my bunk and creep across the floor until I'm within reach of the guard's neck.

"Uck!" He cries out as I reach through the bars and wrap my hands around his neck, slamming him into the bars. The guard struggles against me, trying to reach for the pistol on his hip. I end it all with a savage twist of the neck. His dead body falls limp to the ground. I reach for the keys on his belt and look through them. I find the key to my cell and open it. I grab the pistol off the guard and chamber a round. I'm two steps out the cell when footsteps echo down the corridor. I hold the gun out and get ready to squeeze the trigger when...

"But that gun down..."

Ben Turner himself steps out of the shadows, a lockpick in his hands.

"I'm here to rescue you."

"About goddamn time," I croak out. The first words I've spoken in I don't know how long. "You're early. I almost shot you."

"My message was 11:30. Not my fault you suck at Morse code. We gotta go. The Wall is waiting."

"Who the hell is that?"

"Don't worry," Ben says with a chuckle. "You'll find out soon enough. Now, let's go."

"Not before we make one little stop first. I want to say a proper goodbye to the ***hole who tortured me all this time."

Ben nods and he leads the way down the dark corridor with me right behind him, pistol in my hands and ready to fire.

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
2345 Hours

Turner and Flag sneaked through the prison's cellblock. They stopped short and melded into the shadows as a guard walked by. Flag leaped out at the guard and put him in a chokehold. While the guard struggled, Flag reached for his pistol and bashed the butt of the gun on the man's head. The guard went limp and Flag let the unconscious man drop to the floor.

"C'mon," Turner whispered. He searched the passed out guard and took the man's pistol from its hip holster. "Prison exit is one floor down. We're almost out of here."

"Not yet," Flag whispered back. "I want to find the bastard who tortured me everyday for a month."

"We're wasting time, dammit!"

"I want to find out how much they know about me...among other things. Come on, let's go."

Flag led the way out of the cellblock and up a level to the prison offices. They entered an office marked Col. Ubuntu. The man who had been interrogating flag was sitting at his desk when the two came in.

"Oh, no," he said, reaching for the gun on his desk. Flag beat him to the punch, pulling up his pistol and shooting Ubuntu in the chest. The colonel fell back away from his desk and hit the floor. Flag walked over calmly and put the gun in Ubuntu's face.

"I came to talk. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Richard Montgomery Flag the third. I'm a former US Ranger, former Delta Force, and current leader of a black-ops strike team known as Task Force X. I was in your hellhole of a country because of an ***hole set me up. What he's got coming for him, is what you got coming to you right now. Any more questions?"

"Please, no! NO!"

Flag squeezed the trigger and shot Ubuntu twice in the head.

"Didn't think so."

"Well, so much for being quiet. Half the guards in the prison are probably headed our way."

"Then let's get going."

The two men left the office and began back down the corridor. Two guards rounded the corner with AK-47s in their hands. Flag and Turner drew down fire, striking both men in the chest before they had a chance to fire. They swapped out their pistols for the assault rifles and hurried out of the offices and out to the prison's side entrance.

"I had a certain side I was supposed to escape out of, I think this was it."

The two men ran through the sand, but stopped short when a spotlight from the prison fell on them. Guards from the roof of the prison began shouting.

KRAK!
KRAK!
KRAK!
KRAK!

Four rifle shots cut through the air and all the guards on the roof were dead, each and everyone of them were victims of bullets to the head.

KRAK!

A bullet struck the spotlight and shattered it. Back in the restored darkness, Flag turned to Turner.

"Lawton?"

"Lawton. He's up here somewhere. The three of us have a rendezvous with the extraction team a half mile away."

They turned their backs on the prison and began running. Shots were coming from inside the prison as the guards prepared to give chase to the escaped prisoners. At one spot, the sand beside them suddenly started to move and a Ghillie suit clad Deadshot began to run along with him.

"This ****ing suit! I've been in this goddamn suit for eighteen ****ing hours!"

"Cry me a goddamn river, Lawton. Try wearing one while you lay in the mud for three days straight and then you can come crying to me."

As they covered the ground to the rendezvous, the shots and calls from the guards began to grow louder. Off in the distance, a pickup truck was idling in the sand.

"Hit the dirt!" A voice from beside the truck called out as soon as the three were within earshot. They fell to the ground as automatic rifle rife ripped through the night. Bullets whizzed over their heads.

"Clear!"

The three men picked themselves up and jogged over to the truck.

"Sorry about that," Sarge Steel said. An M4 was in his hands. "Guards were getting close. That buys us time. Now let's go! Get on the back of the truck!"

Lawton, Flag, and Turner jumped into the pickups bed as Steel climbed into the cab and hit the gas.

"Is that the Wall?" Flag asked as the truck bounced across the desert.

"You wish," Turner said with a smile. "That's Sarge Steel."

Flag shot Turner an incredulous look and Turner just shrugged.

"You never know. It could actually be his real name."

After a half hour drive, the pickup came to a stop on a flat stretch of desert that had been turned into an improvised airstrip. A C-17 was running and waiting.

"Let's go," Steel said as he exited the truck. "We got a thirteen hour flight back to the states to look forward to."

Flag, Turner, and Lawton climbed out of the back and walked towards the taxiing aircraft. Two women were waiting for them by the plane's cargo ramp. One of them bolted across the sand as soon as she saw Flag.

"Rick!" Nightshade said as she embraced Flag. "Thank God you're alive!"

She pulled away suddenly, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Good to have you back."

"Ain't that sweet," the other woman said. She walked over to Flag and looked him over. "Welcome back from the cold, Flag...You look like hell. Come on inside the plane and we'll start your debrief. You think Ubuntu was a torturer, wait until I start on you."

With that, she turned and walked back to the plane.

"That," Turner said over Flag's shoulder "Is the Wall."

Bounce

11-19-2011, 03:07 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
Greater Houston Area
Texas

The firefighter's helmet slipped over the child's eyes, the small Superboy adjusting the brim of the red safety hat so that he could peer down at the area map which the fire chief and others from the fire and forest services were examining. One of the firefighters had turned around to lift the young boy up to see the map spread out across the table, only to have everyone surprised to discover that the Metropolis grade schooler was hovering in the air. "Let me see somethin' for a second..." the boy remarked, picking the map up.

Before anyone could so much as blink, the child shot straight up into the air.

"Please tell me you guys are seeing this too," the fire chief mumbled.

In another blur, the Superboy returned and laid the map back down on the table as he produced a red crayon from out of the pocket of his jeans. Making some scribbles on the aerial map, the child updated and expanded on the visual depiction of the fire damage. "Okay, that looks right," Lor-Zod remarked to himself, folding his legs underneath himself so that he was seated cross-legged in mid-air.

"We need to clear the debris from this section of highway to get more trucks in," the fire chief began.

"Okay."

With that, Superboy vanished into a red blur. The fire chief exchanged looks with some of the others around the table before the child returned a minute later. "That was easy. What's next?"

Mouth agape, the fire chief just looked over at his fellow man. Clearing her throat, one of the forest service workers opined, "We should... probably do a search through these neighborhoods."

"I scanned the homes when I was searching for that Suzie girl," Superboy answered casually, starting to rummage through his pockets. "I found a cool rock and, oh, this frog," the boy added, holding out the treasures that he'd located.

"Other than that, the neighborhood was empty," the little Kryptonian began, starting to put the treasures away when he caught a glimpse of the watch that Superman had given him. "What els..."

The child paused, examining the hands of the watch closer. One... two... three... It was three o'clock and the minute hand was...

A look of horror crossed the boy's face. Without a word, the Superboy vanished into the skies with only the echoing thunder of a sonic boom to mark his departure from Texas.

"Where in the sam hell do you imagine he's going?"

"I sure don't know," the fire chief answered. "But a boy with courage like that is sure to be handling something right important."

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * *

NASA Pike Island Research Facility
Metropolis, MA

Lor-Zod tore through the skies over Massachusetts, practically tearing doors off their hinges as he rushed to the lounge in the center of the Project Superboy headquarters.

He'd barely arrived in time, a sigh of relief leaving him as he switched on the television and tried not to think about what might have happened if he hadn't made it to Metropolis.

Blinking, the boy realized there was something missing. In a blur, the boy disappeared to the kitchen and returned with a bag of Cheetos and a pair of Capri Sun juice packs.

Nope, something was still missing.

Flying back out, the Superboy returned a second later with Adam Grant in tow.

For his part, Adam didn't seem to appreciate the heroic effort being made here. "I'm not watching cartoons with you, butthole!" Adam declared hotly, popping up to his feet as he leveled an accusatory finger at the Superboy. "You embarassed me in front of the entire gym cl..."

"Believe it!"

Blinking, the Grant boy was silenced by the warm glow of the television that was alight with the animated figure of a blond, spiky-haired, juvenile ninja. As the cross look lifted from his face, Adam quietly took a seat next to Lor-Zod. After another moment, Lor popped a straw into one of juice boxes and handed it over to the other boy. Examining the peace offering for a moment, Adam accepted the juice box and looked down at his lap for a moment. Finally, the boy reared back a hand and punched his Kryptonian friend in the arm. "Ow!"

Okay, so maybe that hadn't worked out quite like Adam had imagined.

Turning his head back just slightly, eyes still glued to the anime, Lor made out the sound of Dabney Donovan coming to explore the noise coming from the lounge. "Can Adam sleep over tonight?"

"What the... I thought you were helping people in Texas!?" Donovan demanded, somewhere between shock, anger, and awe.

"I learned in science class that your planet is, like, thousands or millions of years old or whatever," Lor-Zod answered with a shrug, shoveling a handful of cheetos into his mouth before passing the bag over to Adam. "I think it'll survive while Naruto's on."

Carnage27

11-19-2011, 06:03 PM

Boy Blue
~No Place Like Home~
Part 2

The Munchkin leads me along the edge of the forest towards another clearing through a few more trees. Buffkin flutters excitedly around us, obviously excited to be at home. As we walk, the Munchkin tells me of the happenings in Oz since the Emperor took over, "And you see, the Wizard never really had any magical power. But that all changed when the Emperor came in. The minute his forces marched in, the Wizard bent the knee and helped them clear out all the dissidents."

"You don't have to remind us about that one," Buffkin seethes. The flying monkey was once one of the warriors fighting to keep Oz free, under the leadership of Gilda the Good. But their sparse forces didn't stand a chance against the combined forces of the Wizard and the Adversary. "We remember."

"So you do," the Munchkin nods. "Well, ever since then, our ol' Wizard has been showing some pretty interesting powers. And on top of that, he's been exerting his rule much more forcefully. His troops march daily, the talking Animals of Oz have been rounded up, and anyone who talks out is put to death in the large square in the Emerald City. Ah! Over this way."

We follow the small man through a few more trees before exiting into the designated clearing. And As we do, I immediately realize it's a trap. Cindy is held with a knife to her throat by what I can assume are the Wizard's shock troops. They're draped in emerald steel armor, and are all armed to the teeth.

The Munchkin waddles over to them, turns to us and says, "Sorry gents. But the price on dissenters heads are just so high. Couldn't pass it up. No hard feelings."

Andy C.

11-20-2011, 02:44 AM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/wwsymbol-thumb.gif

"Lantern is easily worthy of fighting alongside us," I say. "I have yet to meet the others, but if Flash and Superman vouch for them, then I will put faith in them as well. Arrow, Steel, bring them all."

"I'm coming too," I hear Donna's voice; in the shock of the attack, I had all but forgotten she was here. "You said you need all the help you can get, right?"

"No, Donna," I cut her off. "Your wounds from the battle with Doctor Destiny are still not healed. And this is not your fight."

"I'm not going to just sit back while you get--"

"I won't ask you to sit idly by with the world in danger," I say, pulling her aside, "But on the front lines, against Cheetah and her new cohorts? You would slow us all down, and likely get yourself killed."

Her eyes flare up with indignation and hurt, but she knows I'm right.

"I have another task for you, though," I continue, "one that could be vital to achieving victory in this war. I had a dream last night, a vision--"

Donna looks up.

"The gods said that we were all fragments of a single person," she says, and I'm taken aback for a second that she shared my dream. "Parts of the same whole, right?"

"That is right," I say. "And there are others out there, who may not yet know who and what they are. I need you to find them."

"You're about to wage war on an army of monsters and psychopaths, and you have me running errands?"

"It's more than that--when we fought together, our physical and mental abilities were heightened merely by being in each other's presence. Strength, speed, skill, all increased by leaps and bounds. If we could find the others.....fighting in tandem, we could be unbeatable."

Donna raises an eyebrow.

"I said this was a war. I'm giving the task to you to call forth our army. The Jet is yours; I'm heading to the UN."

Andy C.

11-20-2011, 03:05 AM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

Lying in a pool of his own blood in the back of a filthy alley. It's no way for any man to die, let alone the Batman. It still seems strange considering all I went through to try to kill him myself, but after everything he's done for me, I can't let Mister Wayne die.

I tried to wake him, but he's completely unconscious, maybe comatose. I'm scared to move him. I'm scared to leave him. Above everything....I'm just scared.

Pulling my phone from my utility belt, I call the house and pray Mister Wayne's butler answers.

After four tries, he finally picks up.

"Wayne residence," he says, "I'm sorry, but there's been a terrible--"

"Alfred," I cut him off, "It's me."

"Master Dick! Where are you?"

"I've found him," I say. "He's still alive; that's the good news. The bad news is, that's really the only piece of good news there is. He's hurt, I can't tell how badly, but badly. He's barely breathing, his pulse is faint, and he's losing a lot of blood. If we don't get him urgent medical attention, I don't think he's going to live through the night."

"I'll bring the car around," he says, "As well as a change of clothes, and hopefully a sufficient cover story. Just tell me where you are."

"My smart-phone has a built-in GPS in it," I say. "I've been able to synch it up with the Oracle system before. If I patch into that, it should lead you straight to us."

"I hope for Master Wayne's sake that you're right," Alfred says. "Don't you dare lose him before I get there."

Alfred hangs up, and I nervously pace around Mister Wayne's broken body. I don't know very much first aid, at least not enough to treat a man who could very well have severe head trauma or a broken spinal column. All I can do now is wait for the car to arrive....

....and pray that he stays alive long enough for us to save him.

Batman

11-20-2011, 03:41 AM

http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/4810/catwomanredo.png

Have to do better than this.

For what seems like the third hour since I started, my fist collides against the leather bag strung up infront of me, rocking back and forth with a violent aftershock that brings me back to reality. I can feel myself panting, gasping for air that I haven't allowed myself to stop and breathe much of, but I nevertheless keep going on the poor thing - hoping, praying there's something left in me that can still fight. Pain in my leg's still making me wince every now and again, and I know that by the time I'm finished, I'll be back on the crutches. If I ever claimed to have any pride, now would be the time to acknowledge that it might be seriously wounded. Or at best, scathed to the point that I'm starting to doubt myself.

I keep pushing it. Another few minutes goes by before I finally hear a voice at the other end of the room that shakes away my concentration. The voice accompanied by a yawn. Damn, I didn't mean to wake her.

"Selina?"

I turn back to the tired face of little Arizona, standing in the doorway and rubbing her eyes. Hard to believe it's been a month ever since I brought her back here to stay, and I never thought I'd make it this far as her guardian. But I suppose we've been managing, in our own little way. She still hasn't asked me anything about why I came home battered and bruised, my leg bandaged and swollen to the point that I've barely been able to move around the apartment. And for that, I'm almost grateful.

"Hey,", I meekly respond, giving her a smile. "Didn't think that I'd wake you. Sorry about that."

With an air of confusion, she looks at the speed bag, then back at me. Barely even registers a reaction in her face.

"S'okay."

"You hungry? I can make another grilled cheese. Or would you like some takeout?"

I can tell that she isn't sure of what to say. Poor girl hasn't exactly been the most receptive of company, but I know exactly how she feels. Spending time in that hellish environment, traded in and out between who knows how many dirtbags under Yuri Dimitrov's clientelle and forced to do things she was never going to be ready for... it makes me sick to even think about.

Wiping my face of perspiration after I limp over to the side table, I throw the towel around my shoulders and grab the crutch to put under my arm. Arizona tries to come over and help, but I throw up a hand, shaking my head to acknowledge that I'm fine. She's a sweet kid, all things considered. Probably better than I deserve to have around.

"C'mon. Let's find something for both of us."

Leading her out of the room, we go and have a late night dinner together. It's a peaceful end to an evening, and I almost feel like I could spend every night like this without complaint. But at the end of it, all I can think of is when I'm going to be able to ditch the crutch and put on the costume again. That fight with The Dragon's right hand she-devil nearly cost me everything, and if it wasn't for his intervention, I wouldn't be around to pick myself up and fight.

Which is exactly why I need time to do just that on my own. Batman may have offered to help me hone my skills, but there's one thing that he can never hope to teach me.

And that's how to be Catwoman again.

Bounce

11-20-2011, 08:02 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
NASA Pike Island Research Facility
Metropolis, MA

They were very close to making a breakthrough like none other in the history of either Kryptonian or human kind. Like all scientific and military geniuses, the pair were not without critics. Ignorant masses who heaped obstacles in their path. First there was dinner time, the protest over which was quickly ended in a mutual treaty when it was learned that they were having Hamburger Helper.

Of course dinner had been a trap.

No sooner had the barren plates of hamburger helper and empty glasses of milk been taken away than the two ground-breaking researchers had found themselves arraigned before the Galactic Criminal Court of the Cronus-9 Statute. In short order, they were sentenced to imprisonment in the bath tub and made to brush their teeth in the Crest mines of Jorunga.

But through the combined might of General Zod and Professor Supremo, better known by their mild-manner alter egos of Nobel Prize winning scientists General Lor-Zod of Krypton's Ninth Order and Doctor Adam Grant of NASA, the two had managed to escape their hellish bath time imprisonment. With only their prison uniforms on their backs, they were now fugitives from the law, working to better the universe from the wrong side of the tracks.

And they were close. With a little more time, they could develop a cure of girlishness and finally rid the galaxy of the Curse of Girls.

"Quick, Professor Supremo, let's get this sample back to the ISS!" Lor-Zod declared, holding up the rock that he'd picked up earlier in Texas. Clad in the oversized NASA t-shirt that he wore to bed, the brown-haired boy began running in circles about the lounge while making zoom and swoosh sounds.

"Watch out for that asteroid field, General!" Adam warned, as the boy ran counter-clockwise to Lor's circles, while holding up a plastic inflatable replica of the Space Shuttle Excalibur. The Grant boy was colorfully garbed in his Superman pajamas that mimicked the appearance and color scheme of the Man of Steel's iconic blue and red costume.

Narrowly dodging the hyperactive grade schoolers, Dabney Donovan stepped into the lounge and immediately wondered whether or not they needed more child psychologists on the staff. "What the hell is this?"

Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, one of the interns pointed toward a pillow-and-blanket fort that had been erected. "That's the International Space Station, the sofa is Mars, and I think the kitchen table is a moon base of some kind..."

"They're playing scientists?" Donovan asked dubiously.

"Yeah. It's pretty cool," the intern remarked, sipping at his coffee. "It's... it's like they're nerds in training."

"Okay, all right," Donovan announced, clapping his hands together to get the attention of the two kids lost to their own imaginations. "Time for bed."

The two boys just paused in their play before sharing a look with one another. "It's S.T.A.R. Labs! They want to stop us from making our breakthrough!" Lor remarked loudly.

"Run!" Adam yelled, sending the pair scrambling for their pillow fort.

"Where do they get this crap?" Donovan wondered with a loud sigh.

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

Shutting the door behind him, Donovan felt as though he could have crawled into bed himself. A bedtime story and two glasses of water later, followed by yet another bedtime story, Donovan was finally crawling his way to the daily outbrief with the Department of Metahuman Affairs. "Sorry about that, took a little longer than usual to get Superboy into bed," the geneticist offered by way of explanation, as the mustached scientist took his seat at the table opposite Albert Michaels, with the image of Fionna Ross video teleconferenced in from her DC office.

"We were just discussing whether or not we should allow the President's Council on Fitness to use Superboy as a publicity icon. Dabney, you mentioned that you'd been approached with a private sponsorship offer. Maybe you could talk about that?"

Donovan nodded. "Yes, earlier today I circulated an offer from a WGBS-Television property known as the Uncle Oswald Show?"

"I had our legal division look into, but is there a reason why we have to put Superboy in front of cameras at this point?"

"There were news crews all over that Texas fire. If Superboy hadn't pulled out to come watch afternoon cartoons, one of those reporters would have almost certainly gotten hold of him at some point," Donovan remarked with a shrug.

"I think there's some interest there. No one's interviewed Superboy yet," Albert noted quietly.

"So its a variable we ought to control rather than let happen at random."

"Exactly, plus we keep control over Superboy as a brand," Dabney added.

"As a... what did you say?"

"We're both public agencies, so the public opinion and interest in Superboy directly relates into their willingness to have tax dollars support things like Project Superboy," Albert remarked, catching Donovan by surprise. Michaels had largely been quiet of late. Continuing on, the medical doctor went on to add, "And let's face it, kids say the darnedest things. And Superboy can really say some of the darnedest things. If he were to say 'humanity is weak' on national television, we'd pretty much be screwed."

Donovan found himself agreeing with everything that had just been said. "Can you imagine if a reporter asked his opinion of Superman?"

"All right, let's feel out this Uncle Oswald **** some more before we agree to anything," Ross remarked through the conference connection. "What about the devil we know? Superboy's slept over at Cat Grant's place, so she might know as much about the kid as we do... but it doesn't seem she's run to the Daily Planet with any of it."

"So we might be able to trust her with controlling the interview so it didn't spin out of control," Donovan commented with a nod.

"And then he'd be better prepped for a live children's show like Uncle Oswald," Albert concluded.

"Sounds like we have a plan. I'll talk to Cat Grant tomorrow. Donovan, give a call back to the Uncle Oswald Show and see you can get them to give us firmer details on what it is they want from us and from Superboy."

As the conference ended, Michaels was left at the table. Superboy on national television. What an interesting opportunity to swing national interest against him...

Byrd Man

11-21-2011, 01:28 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Nigerian Prison
Outskirts of Kano
2345 Hours

Turner and Flag sneaked through the prison's cellblock. They stopped short and melded into the shadows as a guard walked by. Flag leaped out at the guard and put him in a chokehold. While the guard struggled, Flag reached for his pistol and bashed the butt of the gun on the man's head. The guard went limp and Flag let the unconscious man drop to the floor.

"C'mon," Turner whispered. He searched the passed out guard and took the man's pistol from its hip holster. "Prison exit is one floor down. We're almost out of here."

"Not yet," Flag whispered back. "I want to find the bastard who tortured me everyday for a month."

"We're wasting time, dammit!"

"I want to find out how much they know about me...among other things. Come on, let's go."

Flag led the way out of the cellblock and up a level to the prison offices. They entered an office marked Col. Ubuntu. The man who had been interrogating flag was sitting at his desk when the two came in.

"Oh, no," he said, reaching for the gun on his desk. Flag beat him to the punch, pulling up his pistol and shooting Ubuntu in the chest. The colonel fell back away from his desk and hit the floor. Flag walked over calmly and put the gun in Ubuntu's face.

"I came to talk. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Richard Montgomery Flag the third. I'm a former US Ranger, former Delta Force, and current leader of a black-ops strike team known as Task Force X. I was in your hellhole of a country because of an ***hole set me up. What he's got coming for him, is what you got coming to you right now. Any more questions?"

"Please, no! NO!"

Flag squeezed the trigger and shot Ubuntu twice in the head.

"Didn't think so."

"Well, so much for being quiet. Half the guards in the prison are probably headed our way."

"Then let's get going."

The two men left the office and began back down the corridor. Two guards rounded the corner with AK-47s in their hands. Flag and Turner drew down fire, striking both men in the chest before they had a chance to fire. They swapped out their pistols for the assault rifles and hurried out of the offices and out to the prison's side entrance.

"I had a certain side I was supposed to escape out of, I think this was it."

The two men ran through the sand, but stopped short when a spotlight from the prison fell on them. Guards from the roof of the prison began shouting.

KRAK!
KRAK!
KRAK!
KRAK!

Four rifle shots cut through the air and all the guards on the roof were dead, each and everyone of them were victims of bullets to the head.

KRAK!

A bullet struck the spotlight and shattered it. Back in the restored darkness, Flag turned to Turner.

"Lawton?"

"Lawton. He's up here somewhere. The three of us have a rendezvous with the extraction team a half mile away."

They turned their backs on the prison and began running. Shots were coming from inside the prison as the guards prepared to give chase to the escaped prisoners. At one spot, the sand beside them suddenly started to move and a Ghillie suit clad Deadshot began to run along with him.

"This ****ing suit! I've been in this goddamn suit for eighteen ****ing hours!"

"Cry me a goddamn river, Lawton. Try wearing one while you lay in the mud for three days straight and then you can come crying to me."

As they covered the ground to the rendezvous, the shots and calls from the guards began to grow louder. Off in the distance, a pickup truck was idling in the sand.

"Hit the dirt!" A voice from beside the truck called out as soon as the three were within earshot. They fell to the ground as automatic rifle rife ripped through the night. Bullets whizzed over their heads.

"Clear!"

The three men picked themselves up and jogged over to the truck.

"Sorry about that," Sarge Steel said. An M4 was in his hands. "Guards were getting close. That buys us time. Now let's go! Get on the back of the truck!"

Lawton, Flag, and Turner jumped into the pickups bed as Steel climbed into the cab and hit the gas.

"Is that the Wall?" Flag asked as the truck bounced across the desert.

"You wish," Turner said with a smile. "That's Sarge Steel."

Flag shot Turner an incredulous look and Turner just shrugged.

"You never know. It could actually be his real name."

After a half hour drive, the pickup came to a stop on a flat stretch of desert that had been turned into an improvised airstrip. A C-17 was running and waiting.

"Let's go," Steel said as he exited the truck. "We got a thirteen hour flight back to the states to look forward to."

Flag, Turner, and Lawton climbed out of the back and walked towards the taxiing aircraft. Two women were waiting for them by the plane's cargo ramp. One of them bolted across the sand as soon as she saw Flag.

"Rick!" Nightshade said as she embraced Flag. "Thank God you're alive!"

She pulled away suddenly, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Good to have you back."

"Ain't that sweet," the other woman said. She walked over to Flag and looked him over. "Welcome back from the cold, Flag...You look like hell. Come on inside the plane and we'll start your debrief. You think Ubuntu was a torturer, wait until I start on you."

With that, she turned and walked back to the plane.

"That," Turner said over Flag's shoulder "Is the Wall."

Over the Atlantic Ocean

Amanda Waller eyed Rick Flag as he took in all she had just said. She'd just spent the last half hour explaining to him what she and Sarge Steel had found after he was left for dead in Nigeria. King Faraday, the man who had run the team after Waller left, had used the Squad for his own devices. They became his own private mercenary team, pulling jobs across the globe for an oil company while Faraday had lined his pockets. After the incident in Nigeria, Faraday had disappeared off the grid.

Fast forward a month and here they were, in the back of a cargo plane headed back to the States. Flag was alive, beaten all to hell and back, but still alive.

"You have no idea where he's at?" Flag asked after a long pause.

"No idea. He took a flight from New Orleans to Dubai. The last shot we have of him is from a security camera in the Dubai International Airport. After that he turned into ghost. No paper trail at all. Faraday is an old pro when it comes to spook work. He has two backup identities on file, but he could have another dozen fake passports we never knew about. I managed to freeze the assets in his Swiss bank account, but by then he'd already taken two mil out. I have no idea. That's more than enough to pay for a few years on lam."

"Not good enough. I want to find him now. He left me for dead, Waller. I want to repay the favor."

"Listen to me, Flag," Waller said sternly. "I know how you feel, believe me, I know all to well. You rushing out to get revenge won't solve anything. It makes you sloppy. It does nothing but hurt yourself and others. I've got my best people working on finding Faraday. As soon as they even get a whiff of Faraday's scent, I'll sic you and the Squad on him. 'Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war' and all that."

Flag leaned back and rubbed his head. While he needed medical attention, he felt like he needed a shower above everything else.

"So what is this? You're going to keep me on the team with the offer of getting the kill shot on Faraday?"

"Hell no. I won't dangle that carrot in your face, Flag. If I have it my way, Faraday will spend the rest of his days rotting in some hole. The traitorous snake deserves death, but that's too easy for him. I'm only offering you a chance to go along for the ride. Fact of the matter is that you're a damn good leader, Flag. You bring your people back alive...for the most part. Face facts, Rick, you ain't good at anything else."

"Fine," Flag replied. "Just get me a hot shower and some decent food."

16 Hours Later
Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

Cleaned up and bandaged, Flag looked in the mirror of the bathroom as he finished up shaving his rust colored beard.

"I actually liked the beard," Ben Turner said as he rounded the corner into the bathroom.

"Never liked the feel of facial hair. Always felt like a slob if I let it grow out too much.'

"Of course. You don't want to look like a hippie or some draft dodger."

"Funny," Flag said, rolling his eyes. "You know, Ben. I didn't have a chance to say it, but I want to thank you. Thank you for coming back and getting me. Waller told me that you gave up a chance on the outside for this."

"Well, I'm still free to come and go as I please. I'm just a 'civilian contractor' now. Sure as hell beats the construction I was doing before."

"You seen Eve? I haven't seen her since we got back. I wanted to thank her too."

"She's working with Sarge Steel on something. I think a prisoner managed to escape while we were in Nigeria. You ask me, I think she's trying to avoid you, still a little embarrassed."

"About what? Hugging me?"

"Nevermind," Turner said, shaking his head. "You'll find out soon enough. For now we're needed. We got a new recruit."

Flag washed the shaving cream from his face and followed Turner to the entrance of the sub-level of Belle Reve. A massive prisoner is shackles was waiting for them.

"This is Roland Desmond. Calls himself Blockbuster. Super strength and durability. He was running a drug ring out of Gotham City before Batman and some weirdo without a face took him down. Cops linked him to ordering three murders and killing three people with his bare hands. Six consecutive life sentences."

"Welcome," Flag said to Desmond. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Rick Flag, your field leader. You know the deal. Work for us until we say so and you get a pardon. Disobey orders and you're either thrown back into your cell to rot forever, or we execute you where you stand."

"Yeah," Desmond spat out. "How you gonna do that? Nobody's been able to kill me yet."

"Remember that booster shot you got during your physical? It was an injection of microtechnology known as nanites. They're in your blood stream right now. You disobey and I have them blow off your head."

"Your bluffing!"

Desmond roared and snapped his restraints. "I'm gonna rip off your ****ing head!"

Flag pulled a remote out of his pocket with two buttons on it. One green and one red. He pressed the green button and watched as Blockbuster's huge frame hit the floor and began to convulse in pain. Flag stopped after thirty seconds and walked over to the downed prisoner.

"That's pacification mode. You mess up again and I press the red button. Then I'm the one ripping off your ****ing head."

Behind Flag, Turner was talking into an intercomm.

"That was Sarge Steel. Waller needs all of us in the briefing room. Apparently we have a mission."

Flag turned to the downed Desmond and kicked the large man in the ribs.

"Up and at 'em, dirtbag. Time to serve your country."

Spike_x1

11-22-2011, 12:48 PM

"I'll see if I can find Green Arrow. Don't think a masked dude with a robin hood fetish will be too hard to find...but it is California after all...umm, anyway, just to get all the formalities out of the way, I guess we should do a vote on GL? All those in favor?"

I raise my hand and nod at Lantern.I raise my hand. "He definitely has my approval too."

"Mine as well," replies J'onn.

"Welcome to the team then, Green Lantern," I say, shaking our newest member's hand.

Seeing Wonder Woman talk to her young friend, I try to give the girl a reassuring smile. It's been my experience that Wonder Woman knows what she's talking about, and as much as the girl might not enjoy it, she also apparently knows that Wonder Woman is right.

"As per the Atom's suggestion, I can meet with Steel and get him up to speed on the situation with the League and the Legion of Doom." My mind falls to Batman for a moment and I wonder if I should take a look around Gotham. I hear a lot of dubious things about him, to say the least, but I know that he's a good man. At the very least, I'll see if he's available on the telepathic network.

"We can keep each other updated through J'onn. Now, if we're each ready to go..." Typing in a few keys, an access port opens above us and I start to take to the air.

MST3K 4ever

11-22-2011, 01:13 PM

I raise my hand. "He definitely has my approval too."

"Mine as well," replies J'onn.

"Welcome to the team then, Green Lantern," I say, shaking our newest member's hand.

Seeing Wonder Woman talk to her young friend, I try to give the girl a reassuring smile. It's been my experience that Wonder Woman knows what she's talking about, and as much as the girl might not enjoy it, she also apparently knows that Wonder Woman is right.

"As per the Atom's suggestion, I can meet with Steel and get him up to speed on the situation with the League and the Legion of Doom." My mind falls to Batman for a moment and I wonder if I should take a look around Gotham. I hear a lot of dubious things about him, to say the least, but I know that he's a good man. At the very least, I'll see if he's available on the telepathic network.

"We can keep each other updated through J'onn. Now, if we're each ready to go..." Typing in a few keys, an access port opens above us and I start to take to the air.

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom punches some buttons on the main computer and the Hall of Justice is now linked in with the U-N's main computer system.

She says, "This is the express route for me. See you all when I see you. Good Hunting one and all."

The Atom shrinks further and further until she floats into the computer and travels the online signals to the U-N.

She emerges from the computer and floats to the General Assembly Hall.

The Atom grows back to 6 inches and begins surveying the damage alongside several Federal Agencies.

She says, "Who's in charge?"

And then she hears a very familiar voice, "I am."

The Atom turns to see Pete Ross standing there.

She nods and says, "Okay let's get to work."

Pete replies, "You got it."

Byrd Man

11-22-2011, 02:01 PM

"As per the Atom's suggestion, I can meet with Steel and get him up to speed on the situation with the League and the Legion of Doom." My mind falls to Batman for a moment and I wonder if I should take a look around Gotham. I hear a lot of dubious things about him, to say the least, but I know that he's a good man. At the very least, I'll see if he's available on the telepathic network.

"We can keep each other updated through J'onn. Now, if we're each ready to go..." Typing in a few keys, an access port opens above us and I start to take to the air.

Superman begins to take to the skies as Atom shrinks and disappears into the computer mainframe.

"I'll hang around here and give GL the tour, make sure Snapper is doing okay."

I slap Lantern on the shoulder and smile.

"Welcome to the team, buddy! Come on, let me show you the video of me kicking a whole alien army's asses."

"All by yourself?"

"Superman helped a little, but it was mostly me. I'd say 80/20....maybe 60/40."

Byrd Man

11-23-2011, 12:19 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Over the Atlantic Ocean

Amanda Waller eyed Rick Flag as he took in all she had just said. She'd just spent the last half hour explaining to him what she and Sarge Steel had found after he was left for dead in Nigeria. King Faraday, the man who had run the team after Waller left, had used the Squad for his own devices. They became his own private mercenary team, pulling jobs across the globe for an oil company while Faraday had lined his pockets. After the incident in Nigeria, Faraday had disappeared off the grid.

Fast forward a month and here they were, in the back of a cargo plane headed back to the States. Flag was alive, beaten all to hell and back, but still alive.

"You have no idea where he's at?" Flag asked after a long pause.

"No idea. He took a flight from New Orleans to Dubai. The last shot we have of him is from a security camera in the Dubai International Airport. After that he turned into ghost. No paper trail at all. Faraday is an old pro when it comes to spook work. He has two backup identities on file, but he could have another dozen fake passports we never knew about. I managed to freeze the assets in his Swiss bank account, but by then he'd already taken two mil out. I have no idea. That's more than enough to pay for a few years on lam."

"Not good enough. I want to find him now. He left me for dead, Waller. I want to repay the favor."

"Listen to me, Flag," Waller said sternly. "I know how you feel, believe me, I know all to well. You rushing out to get revenge won't solve anything. It makes you sloppy. It does nothing but hurt yourself and others. I've got my best people working on finding Faraday. As soon as they even get a whiff of Faraday's scent, I'll sic you and the Squad on him. 'Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war' and all that."

Flag leaned back and rubbed his head. While he needed medical attention, he felt like he needed a shower above everything else.

"So what is this? You're going to keep me on the team with the offer of getting the kill shot on Faraday?"

"Hell no. I won't dangle that carrot in your face, Flag. If I have it my way, Faraday will spend the rest of his days rotting in some hole. The traitorous snake deserves death, but that's too easy for him. I'm only offering you a chance to go along for the ride. Fact of the matter is that you're a damn good leader, Flag. You bring your people back alive...for the most part. Face facts, Rick, you ain't good at anything else."

"Fine," Flag replied. "Just get me a hot shower and some decent food."

16 Hours Later
Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

Cleaned up and bandaged, Flag looked in the mirror of the bathroom as he finished up shaving his rust colored beard.

"I actually liked the beard," Ben Turner said as he rounded the corner into the bathroom.

"Never liked the feel of facial hair. Always felt like a slob if I let it grow out too much.'

"Of course. You don't want to look like a hippie or some draft dodger."

"Funny," Flag said, rolling his eyes. "You know, Ben. I didn't have a chance to say it, but I want to thank you. Thank you for coming back and getting me. Waller told me that you gave up a chance on the outside for this."

"Well, I'm still free to come and go as I please. I'm just a 'civilian contractor' now. Sure as hell beats the construction I was doing before."

"You seen Eve? I haven't seen her since we got back. I wanted to thank her too."

"She's working with Sarge Steel on something. I think a prisoner managed to escape while we were in Nigeria. You ask me, I think she's trying to avoid you, still a little embarrassed."

"About what? Hugging me?"

"Nevermind," Turner said, shaking his head. "You'll find out soon enough. For now we're needed. We got a new recruit."

Flag washed the shaving cream from his face and followed Turner to the entrance of the sub-level of Belle Reve. A massive prisoner is shackles was waiting for them.

"This is Roland Desmond. Calls himself Blockbuster. Super strength and durability. He was running a drug ring out of Gotham City before Batman and some weirdo without a face took him down. Cops linked him to ordering three murders and killing three people with his bare hands. Six consecutive life sentences."

"Welcome," Flag said to Desmond. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Rick Flag, your field leader. You know the deal. Work for us until we say so and you get a pardon. Disobey orders and you're either thrown back into your cell to rot forever, or we execute you where you stand."

"Yeah," Desmond spat out. "How you gonna do that? Nobody's been able to kill me yet."

"Remember that booster shot you got during your physical? It was an injection of microtechnology known as nanites. They're in your blood stream right now. You disobey and I have them blow off your head."

"Your bluffing!"

Desmond roared and snapped his restraints. "I'm gonna rip off your ****ing head!"

Flag pulled a remote out of his pocket with two buttons on it. One green and one red. He pressed the green button and watched as Blockbuster's huge frame hit the floor and began to convulse in pain. Flag stopped after thirty seconds and walked over to the downed prisoner.

"That's pacification mode. You mess up again and I press the red button. Then I'm the one ripping off your ****ing head."

Behind Flag, Turner was talking into an intercomm.

"That was Sarge Steel. Waller needs all of us in the briefing room. Apparently we have a mission."

Flag turned to the downed Desmond and kicked the large man in the ribs.

"Up and at 'em, dirtbag. Time to serve your country."

Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

"Listen up," Amanda Waller announced. From behind her reading glasses, she watched her team sitting around the conference room table. In addition to herself and the seven other members of Task Force X, Werner Vertigo, a art thief turned Squad member, was present.

"The newest mission comes courtesy of the CIA and the Pentagon. It's a doozy."

Behind Waller, a display screen flashed on and showed a map of Russia. There was a glowing red dot placed in the Northern part of the country.

"The dot on the map is the crashdown site of a UFO. It hit the coast of the Arctic Ocean in 1990, just as the Soviet Union was crumbling for good. We have no idea exactly what it was. By the time the satellite surveillance passed over the site, the Russians had it covered. It was moved to a research facility in Moscow a few months later. It's sat there for the last twenty years while the Russians have tried to reverse engineer it."

The display behind Waller shifted and the map became black and white sketches of an oddly shaped aircraft.

http://i40.tinypic.com/24cw2lk.jpg

"Based on the one intelligence source we managed to get inside the facility, this is what our UFO looks like. Analysts think it's some kind of fighter. The Russians haven't been able to figure it out in the two decades they had it, so they're finally gonna get some use out of it."

The display changed back to a map of Russia, this time there was a red line snaking through the country.

"Russia is selling the aircraft to China for an amount that has a whole lotta zeros behind it. They're preparing to move it as we speak. The jet's too big to be carried by air, so it's gonna be moved by train. Halfway through Siberia they'll veer off into Manchuria and hand the UFO off to the Chinese."

Waller removed her reading glasses and smirked.

"Our mission is to hijack this bad boy."

The display zoomed in to one part of the Trans-Siberian Railway. It showed a town and then a spur that led South.

"We'll make contact with the train a hundred kilometers east of the city of Chita, ten kilometers before they veer south to Manchuria. From there it'll be a three thousand kilometer journey east to the port city of Valdivostok. I'll have a team ready and waiting to get the UFO off the train and on a waiting ship. Sounds simple enough. Questions?"

"Yeah," Bronze Tiger said "How in the hell are we going to do this?"

"We've got a hell of a plan, believe me. You'll find out once we get to Russia. Any more questions?"

"What are the chances of us dying?" Deadshot asked.

"I won't lie. It's not gonna be easy. Thousands of miles away from any other country or any kind of back up. It'll be a miracle if we all make it back alive."

"Works for me," Lawton said with a shrug.

"Just so everyone is clear. If you're caught, you will not speak a word of who you and who you work for. The government will disavow any knowledge of this mission. As far as they're concerned, you're just a group of costumed whackos trying to stir up some s***. That's our cover story. If you expect us to swap some spies for you freedom, forget it. You're expendable, and you'll be treated as such. That's it for now."

"Alright," Flag said. "Go get your gear. We're on the way to the airport in an hour."

Bounce

11-24-2011, 05:10 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
NASA Pike Island Research Facility
Metropolis, MA

The three were strewn across the race car inspired waterbed, Lor's pillow having been usurped by the white canine sometime during the night so that the Superboy was now stretched out with his legs entangled around the dog and his head resting on Adam Grant. And the observers who maintained a watch over the children were happy to leave them that way, having now enjoyed several hours of quiet throughout the facility.

Of course, one truth that was the same for Kryptonians as it was for humans was that, eventually, the dog was going to want out.

Flopping over on its side, Krypto gave a snort before popping up on its legs. The waterbed mattress shifted in a tidal fashion from the motion, raising and lowering the two boys across from the animal - neither of whom were at all disturbed by the sudden motion. Lowering its muzzle beside the brown-haired child's head, Krypto sniffed the air several times before beginning to lap at Lor-Zod's face.

The Kryptonian child's eyes fluttered opened, the boy less than awake even as he attempted to push the dog's head away from his own. There was sunlight coming into the room, brighter than was usual. Sitting up, Lor-Zod realized that he'd slept later than we normally allowed. A glance over at the clock on the nightstand confirming that it was past the time when he was normally expected to be ready for school.

Sitting up, Lor could feel Adam stirring behind him. "We slept late," Lor said aloud, ending in a large yawn. Krypto had taken hold of the child's sleeve and was attempting to tug the boy off the bed, but Lor-Zod rubbed at his eyes while contemplating going back to sleep.

"It's Thanksgiving, there's no school today," Adam noted, sitting up with a similarly vacant expression on his own face.

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * *

"I don't understand why you feel you need to censor the interview," Cat Grant remarked, picking up the cup of coffee that had been set before her and sipping at the hot beverage. The reporter sat in the facility's kitchen with Dabney Donovan, having been invited by to discuss the prospect of the Daily Planet running a story on the Boy of Steel. "They're kids. People are going to understand that..."

"Hey, Adam, what's Thanksgiving?"

Stumbling through the kitchen came the bed-headed lost boys of Metropolis, being led toward the door outside by the white furred canine of a different world. Superboy still in only his oversized NASA t-shirt and Adam in his Superman pajamas.

Super-Adam paused to reflect on the question before the trio exited to take Krypto out. "Thanksgiving? It's a holiday where we celebrate the killing of the indians by the pilgrims, so that we could live in this great country. An' turkeys died for our food or somethin' like that."

Cat's face fell immediately. Dabney merely sipping on his own coffee as the boy's went outside and left the two adults alone in the kitchen. Finally, Donovan brought a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat loudly.

Cat Grant sighed. "All right, so in addition to not asking about Superman, we're not asking what he knows about Thanksgiving either."

Batman

11-24-2011, 06:49 PM

http://img684.imageshack.us/img684/2771/knightfallresize.png

IC: Alfred Jarvis

By the time that I'd recieved Richard's anxious call, I had all but given up hope.

Even as advanced as Mr. Wayne's artificial intelligence system truly seemed to be - with it's systems acting way above and beyond anything I could ever hope to understand, combing through every inch of Gotham itself through a digital grid - the program had still presented me with it's own difficulties in trying to lock down any sort of trace. My fear that his equipment was simply too damaged to send back a signal seemed realized, and I was already preparing myself to abandon the Oracle's search in order to embark on a search of my own. As trying as the task seemed, I would have scoured the entire city if it meant bringing him home alive - but apart of me knew that if I had truly let myself give into the determination, that would never be the case. I didn't know how badly he had suffered, but Bruce was already barely alive whenever I had last laid eyes on him. To test the factors of time would have surely meant his end.

But it seems that I was mistaken. Thanks to the intervention of a fifteen year old boy, hope for his survival still remains. Even as the Mercedes reaches a speed well above the legal limit, my foot remains pressed against the gas, weaving through the oncoming traffic and ignoring the angered pedestrians in my wake. I have brought with me everything imaginable in an emergency scenario - several different types of first aid. Military grade wraps and bandages. An EMT's gurney, secretly borrowed from one of Lucius Fox's many visits to the penthouse. A spare change of clothes arranged for Bruce, and what little I could find to fit Richard aswell. I have to be prepared, because lord knows what sort of costume the boy is wearing tonight. Especially in lieu of what I discovered him wearing in the weeks prior.

Should the stress of this event ever pass, I must remember to have a talk with Richard about what he's seen. I realize that it was unavoidable, given the brief circumstances he told me of, but part of me believes that Bruce really hadn't ever considered his discovery of the secret. Truth be told, neither had I. But if it had ever crossed my mind, even for a moment, I must have known only one thing for certain - Richard would never have been ready to carry the burden. Nor should he have been expected to.

The fading lights of downtown avenue alert me once more to the oncoming peril. I mustn't dwell on such things now, not when my friend is in such dire need of assistance. More than he ever has before, I fear, Mr. Wayne needs me. I can only pray I can live up to the task.

"Good heavens..."

For the entire duration of the drive, I had tried to prepare myself for the absolute worst. From Master Richard's description of the scene, I knew there would be unpleasant sights to behold - visibly broken bones, some hemorraging to avoid. And certainly alot of blood.

But this...

http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/3259/rpg2.png

I could have never prepared myself for this.

At first glance of the body, my heart can barely sustain the dread. He does not physically look to be alive, and that is what disturbs me most of all. To be employed by a man who continually risks his life on a nightly basis does not, obviously, come without it's pitfalls. I have spent many nights under the roof of that cave, wondering if that particular evening would be the one. The tragic evening where I would have unknowingly heard his voice for the last time, only to later discover I would never hear it again. So to actually witness what appears to be a corpse - and not a living, breathing man - leaves me too shaken for words.

But I have to trust Richard's assessment, if only to keep myself focused. He is indeed alive, only appearing to be worse off. But this is still beyond any injury he has ever sustained. And like any men in Mr. Wayne's high octane position, he has sustained many. I am almost afraid to touch the body at first, fearing that the slightest brush would force his bones to collapse. But seeing the worried look on the face of the boy behind me, I somehow find the courage to push back any sense of doubt and begin to gently manuever him onto the gurney.

The costume will need to be removed. Replaced with something tattered and ravaged, covered in his own blood. Taking the clothes I have brought, I begin to soak them in the seeping blood that pours out of his body, closing my eyes in frustration as the body only seems to produce more.

"Dick,", I finally call out, beginning to trim through his torn cowl with a scapel.

"Help me lift him into the car, sir. And from there, be prepared to do whatever I tell you to."

Perhaps unnessecarily, I go onto remind him that time is of the essence.

But he doesn't stop to question my commands. Nor does he falter when given tasks that most teenage boys would never be able to attempt. After thirty minutes of struggle, I have managed to remove the incriminating pieces of Bruce's costume and replace them with a purposely wrinkled cocktail suit, tearing it at the sleeves and elsewhere.

After a nearly fifteen minute drive later, we finally arrive at Gotham General. Lucius Fox's medical team immediately rush him back to emergency surgery.

They may be able to save Mr. Wayne's life yet.

God forgive me if they cannot.

Byrd Man

11-25-2011, 12:32 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

"Listen up," Amanda Waller announced. From behind her reading glasses, she watched her team sitting around the conference room table. In addition to herself and the seven other members of Task Force X, Werner Vertigo, a art thief turned Squad member, was present.

"The newest mission comes courtesy of the CIA and the Pentagon. It's a doozy."

Behind Waller, a display screen flashed on and showed a map of Russia. There was a glowing red dot placed in the Northern part of the country.

"The dot on the map is the crashdown site of a UFO. It hit the coast of the Arctic Ocean in 1990, just as the Soviet Union was crumbling for good. We have no idea exactly what it was. By the time the satellite surveillance passed over the site, the Russians had it covered. It was moved to a research facility in Moscow a few months later. It's sat there for the last twenty years while the Russians have tried to reverse engineer it."

The display behind Waller shifted and the map became black and white sketches of an oddly shaped aircraft.

http://i40.tinypic.com/24cw2lk.jpg

"Based on the one intelligence source we managed to get inside the facility, this is what our UFO looks like. Analysts think it's some kind of fighter. The Russians haven't been able to figure it out in the two decades they had it, so they're finally gonna get some use out of it."

The display changed back to a map of Russia, this time there was a red line snaking through the country.

"Russia is selling the aircraft to China for an amount that has a whole lotta zeros behind it. They're preparing to move it as we speak. The jet's too big to be carried by air, so it's gonna be moved by train. Halfway through Siberia they'll veer off into Manchuria and hand the UFO off to the Chinese."

Waller removed her reading glasses and smirked.

"Our mission is to hijack this bad boy."

The display zoomed in to one part of the Trans-Siberian Railway. It showed a town and then a spur that led South.

"We'll make contact with the train a hundred kilometers east of the city of Chita, ten kilometers before they veer south to Manchuria. From there it'll be a three thousand kilometer journey east to the port city of Valdivostok. I'll have a team ready and waiting to get the UFO off the train and on a waiting ship. Sounds simple enough. Questions?"

"Yeah," Bronze Tiger said "How in the hell are we going to do this?"

"We've got a hell of a plan, believe me. You'll find out once we get to Russia. Any more questions?"

"What are the chances of us dying?" Deadshot asked.

"I won't lie. It's not gonna be easy. Thousands of miles away from any other country or any kind of back up. It'll be a miracle if we all make it back alive."

"Works for me," Lawton said with a shrug.

"Just so everyone is clear. If you're caught, you will not speak a word of who you and who you work for. The government will disavow any knowledge of this mission. As far as they're concerned, you're just a group of costumed whackos trying to stir up some s***. That's our cover story. If you expect us to swap some spies for you freedom, forget it. You're expendable, and you'll be treated as such. That's it for now."

"Alright," Flag said. "Go get your gear. We're on the way to the airport in an hour."

26 Hours Later
Vladivostok, Russia

They trickled out the airport's terminal one at a time, not going as one group in case they were being watched. Flag brought up the rear, and was the last one to exit the airport and head into the city. He caught a cab and instructed the driver to the location he wished to go. Fifteen minutes later, he was stepping out of the cab after paying his driver a few rubles. Flag slug his canvas bag over his shoulders and wrapped his jacket tight against himself to fight the Russian cold. He walked down an alleyway and took a right into a dead end...and nearly bumped into a waiting Amanda Waller.

"Were you followed?" She asked. Waiting behind her was the whole team, save for two members.

"I watched out the back of the cab. Unless I had a front tail, which I highly doubt, I'm clear."

"Good. Now that we're all here, let's head out. We've got to meet up with Turner and Kuttler."

Waller turned to the massive man standing in the back of the group.

"Mister Desmond, you remember where you're meeting us at?"

"Outskirts of town," Blockbuster grumbled. "I remember...'

"Good. And Roland? You ain't there, I press one button and go Gallagher all on that deformed melon you call a head. Got that?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Waller lead the rest of the group out of the alley while Blockbuster took a left and went further down the alleyway towards the west.

One Mile East
Vladivostok Train Terminal

Bronze Tiger navigated through the crowds at the train station. Calculator was walking by his side, a laptop tucked under Kuttler's arm.

"You've got two minutes to get it done? Will that be enough time?"

"Please," he replied, pushing his glasses up off the bridge of his nose. "It took me all of five minutes to bypass all the firewalls in the Spanish Government's servers and get into the Finance Minister's books. Five minutes after that and the country of Spain was bankrupt and I had six billion dollars."

"Well, considering you're not on a beach somewhere with all that money, I'm still wary. Just get in there and do you job. Hold on..."

Turner walked away from Calculator and towards an unsuspecting security guard. The man turned just in time for Turner to come crashing into him.

"Сукин сын!" The guard spat out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see where I was going. I'm sorry, sir."

"Часы, куда Вы идете!"

"Whatever you say..."

Turner held his hands up and stepped away from the guard, still apologizing. He turned around and walked to Kuttler, slipping a card key into his hands.

"Remember what Waller said," Turner mumbled as he passed him, "Nerve center to the train station is down the corridor, third door on the left. You got two minutes. Go."

Kuttler hurried off and down the corridor to a door with a bright red warning written in Cyrillic stamped on it. Calculator slipped the key card into the door and pushed it open after it buzzed him through. He was inside a room filled with computers and servers. The four operators in the room were too busy with their computers to notice Kuttler come in. He sneaked over to a server and booted up his laptop.

Sticking a USB cable into his laptop and running it to the server, he balanced the computer on his knee and went to work. It took Kuttler just a few seconds to bypass the security firewalls and get into the train station's mainframe. He piggybacked off that mainframe into the Russian Transport Bureau's database. All told, it took him a minute to do exactly what Waller wanted. Once it was done, he unplugged his laptop from the server and shut it down. He quickly left the control room and was back in the terminal just a few moments later.

"Done," Kuttler said to Turner once he was within earshot.

"With thirty seconds to spare. Which one is it?"

"It's on track 24."

Turner and Klutter made their way to a train engine standing alone by itself, only one passenger car hitched to it.

"Let's get to it."

Klutter climbed up into the engine while Turner entered the passenger car. Five minutes later, the rest of the team walked up to track 24 and entered into the passenger car.

"Welcome to the HQ for the rest of the mission, folks. Get your gear settled. Sarge, get your computer booted up. I wanna know the progress of the Russian convoy."

"Yes ma'am," was his gruff reply.

"Flag, go check up on Kuttler. See how it's going."

Flag dropped his bag and headed to the engine. Inside, Calculator had his computer hooked up to the train's controls.

"How's it going?"

"Almost there. We got real lucky the Russians overhauled their transportation systems. If we were dealing with Cold War era stuff, we'd be up s*** creek without a paddle."

"So, how in the hell are we going to go across Siberia in this thing and not get caught?"

"Simple enough, really," Kuttler said, peering at Flag over the tops of his glasses. "I hacked into the transport bureau and had this train listed as carrying a VIP, identity classified. That'll give us clearance at any check point from here to Moscow."

Kuttler typed on his keyboard quickly and hit the enter key. The train shuddered and began to slowly roll down the track.

"Aaaand now I can control our speed and direction. Damn, I'm good."

The train rolled out of Vladivostok Station and chugged through the town. It came to a stop on the outskirts of town long enough for Blockbuster to climb aboard.

"Alright, people," Waller announced from inside the passenger car. "We got a few thousand kilometers between us and our rendezvous point with the train convoy. We got about two days of down time coming our way. Get plenty of rest, but don't get soft."

Caculator started the engine back up and it began to pick up speed as Vladivostok faded behind them and they entered the open expanse of Siberia.

Batman

11-25-2011, 01:14 AM

http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/4810/catwomanredo.png

"...was rushed to Gotham General following a violent encounter with the perpetrators of a break-in to his penthouse suite. Wayne's admission to the hospital was not photographed by any paparazzi, but we have obtained confirmation in a brief statement sent to GCN by the billionaire's publicist. Very few details are being given, but rumors have already began to circulate that the 29 year old's condition is critical at this time. More on this late breaking development as it comes."

Nearly three, and my eyes had to force themselves awake whenever this started. I've checked every channel that this television carries, and nearly all of them are playing the same thing. Bruce Wayne, hospitalized and in serious condition. My curiosity momentarily outweighs any remote chance of concern for a man I barely even know, as I briefly entertain the thought that this is just another "cover". Last time it was a car crash, and I was playing the part of the unforunate passenger to his out-of-control dismal billionaire on a drunken bender. This time it's apparently supposed to be a set of would-be thieves who caught him off guard in the middle of the night.

There's only one little problem with that story. And it's because I know his most precious secret. Bruce Wayne just so happens to be Batman, and you don't catch Batman "off guard". So whatever they've told the press, there's undoubtedly more to it than that. And as much as I hate to admit it, I'd kill to know what it is.

My eyes peer over to the side bedroom door looking out at the living room. Already put Arizona to bed, and she's not going anywhere. My mind races as I realize that it's been two weeks since I had any fun in this town. Fourteen long, painfully uneventful days since he and I went into Chinatown looking for a walking pile of filth named Dimitrov. He's still walking the streets, and the only man who could have helped me track him down is... indisposed.

But why?

Sorry, Wayne. I'd leave it alone, but you don't get to sneak your way out of our agreement that easily.

Just as I get up off of the couch, the beginnings of the rest of my evening already starting to take shape, the pain in my heel takes hold and I'm forced to fall back down onto the cushion. Frustration overwhelms me as I silently mutter a few less than stellar examples of vocabulary. Should I really take the risk of making it even worse on myself? Almost as if she were replying, Isis leaps up on the arm of the couch and begins rubbing her head against my arm. I smile, giving her a tender scratch behind the ears.

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"You don't think mommy should stay cooped up in this dingy apartment tonight, do you?"

She purs in response. Guess that settles that.

This kitten's about to go back on the prowl.

Mr. Majestic

11-25-2011, 02:20 AM

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This, right here? This moment? This is good. I am going to live in this moment just for a while. For the past three days while on patrol I haven’t seen so much as a person j-walking. Maybe criminals finally realize that Bluehaven is no longer a safe haven for them. That is a nice thought but even I know that not to be true. I have done a lot of good but still I am one man while those who terrorize the innocent are many. So while I can I’ll just enjoy this moment.

“LET ME GO!!” The sounds of a woman screaming to be freed broke my perfect night. I must admit a side of me is kind of glad, I was starting to think that I might have to pack everything up and start working in Gotham.

“Anarky track my location and then pinpoint the location and check to see what the commotion is about. I don’t want to rush if it’s not a serious matter.”

“I’m on it Midnighter.”

Over the pass couple of months I and Lonnie have come to be a great team we operate like a well oiled machine. If someone would watch us operate you would think we been doing this for years but the truth is we are just a couple of months away from reaching one year. I couldn’t ask for a better partner in this.

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“I tap into a ATM camera and a girl just got taken into a gray van they are heading toward Stark Ave.”

“On it, keep track.” I say as I take a couple of steps back and then dirt off full steam ahead and jump to the rooftop of the building just in front of me.

I could have just jumped down and got on my bike and just fallowed them that way but with my advancement this way is more fun. That’s something I wouldn’t dare let Lonnie know, he believes that I have no sense of adventure. Besides coming off as the bad ass is cool in my book.

With Lonnie directing me I’m only a couple of blocks behind the kidnappers. A normal man would be far behind but thanks to my mothers project I’m not a normal man. My normal full speed of running exceeds that of a normal human.

While jumping across to the next building something grasps my eye. So as I land on the rooftop I instead of landing on my feet I roll on the ground and stay in a kneeling position. I do a quick glance to the building just ahead and notice that there are some men keeping looking out.

“Lonnie I’m going to cut off communications.”

“Your about to do the battle precognition thing right?”

“I’ll open the line once I’m finish, Midnighter out.”

I finally got a handle on how to use my battle precognition and the key is to concentrate but I’ve notice with Lonnie in my ear it makes it hard, almost impossible. Instantly I begin running through multiple combat situations in my mind covering nearly ever possible result before the first punch is even thrown. Now that I know what I’m going to do I’m going to take them out before they even know it.

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Reflection of the scope gave the shooter away. This is good for me because now I have the upper hand. Firing the grappling hook at close ranger on the shooter’s chin will render him useless just enough for me to take out the others on the roof and then make my way inside to save the girl.

MST3K 4ever

11-25-2011, 01:27 PM

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Oswald arrives back at The Iceberg Lounge after the Orphange Fund press conference.

He looks over his phone messages and returns many of the phone calls. One from P.Diddy wishing to shoot a music video at the lounge, another from city council members looking to get tickets for one of Rhianna's concerts at the lounge for their teenage kids, an interview with Summer Gleason, and then one from a source at the Hospital saying to call at once.

Oswald calls and after the phone conversation he is almost stunned beyond words.

Bruce Wayne seriously injuried in a home break-in. He is in critical condition, and it's way worse than anyone is willing to admit. There are unconfirmed rumors going around that his butler has been told to make sure his affairs are in order within the next 24 hours.

Oswald calls his publicist and says, "Please issue a statement to the press that Mr. Wayne is in our thoughts and prayers and we hope for a quick recovery that sort of thing you know what to do."

Oswald hangs up and walks over to his pet vulture Titan and feeds him.

He says, "Yes my dear friend. If Wayne should not pull through all his property in Gotham will likey go public, and three guesses who will have the inside track on them."

Oswald smiles and says, "Can you imagine using Wayne's companies as a front for some of my other more lucrative activities? The international connections would entrench me as the undisputed Warlord of Gotham."

Byrd Man

11-25-2011, 01:35 PM

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Central City, Missouri

I spend a few hours showing GL around Happy Harbor and making sure Snapper is doing alright. After that, I head back home and make sure everything in Central City and Keystone is quiet. I stop a mugging and prevent a jaywalking woman from being hit by an 18 wheeler. Then I head home and delve into another passion of mine...

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Superherohype, the internet's source for all things involving the superhero boom, is a pretty cool place...except for that weird guy in Gotham who posts those Batman fanfics. Batman vs. Blacula and Blackenstein was cool...but those romantic stuff he writes is a bit much.

BZZZT!

My cellphone buzzes and I pull it out. There's a text from Val. Private stuff, not for the faint of heart. She moved to Hub City two weeks ago to take a job at their STAR Labs facility there. We've been doing the long distance thing. Truth is, I could go to Hub and back before she could send another text. But I don't know if I should tell her the truth. Ralph and Jay are the only ones who know my actual identity, not even my parents know. I know Jay will never tell, he has secrets of his own. Ralph's ability to keep quiet has actually surprised me. I trust Val, I love her...maybe I should tell her.

I send her a text back, telling her I'm on my way to Hub City and I'll see her in an hour. That should give her a good surprise.

Before Val's reply, the phone goes off again...this time it's a call.

"Hello?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to reach Bartholomew Allen."

"This is him."

"Bart, this is Captain Darryl Frye over in Keystone City. You interviewed for a job here at the KCPD as a crime scene tech. If you're still interested, we'd love to hire you."

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.

"Son? You still there?"

"Y-yeah. I'm still here. I'm interested and I'd want to work for you."

"Excellent. Report here at 7 AM, day after tomorrow. I'll show you around and get you started."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be there."

I hang up the phone and pump my fist in the air.

"WHOOO HOOO!"

What has two thumbs, kicks ass, and is now employed?

This guy!

I lean back in my chair and look at the computer screen, smiling. My smile starts to fade away as I think of my forthcoming job. I check the threads on the hype and see what's going on before I click over to Google and search for "Crime Scene Technician."

Oh, boy...I really hope I don't screw this up...

Byrd Man

11-26-2011, 01:46 AM

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Previously

Kate Spencer is waiting in her FBI issued unmarked car as I pull up in my own car. The deserted field on the outskirts of Gotham is a better place to meet than the Gotham Ritz.

"Your tip planned out," she says as I step out of my car.

"I knew it would."

"Sergeant Murphy has been running a protection ring with the Bennett Beach storekeepers."

"What's your next move?"

"I've got my people shadowing him, getting more intel. But I need you for something again."

I narrow my eyes and look at Spencer.

"What?"

"Holiday. Something funny went down in that case. We're making it a RICO case so we need to establish the GCPD has a past history of corruption. Now why did you and the rest of the PD sweep it under the rug?"

"It is what it is. You read the report."

Holiday. That's off-limits. Lot of history. That's the case that made me...and the case that almost killed me. Drugs, corruption, and murder all wrapped up in a neat little bow. I had Gordon, Essen, and the whole MCU dead to rights...but I got my hands real dirty in the process.

"So Lieutenant Michael Akins just snapped and started killing people based on a goddamn whim?"

"Read the report, sweetheart. He snapped years ago when he son was murdered.'

Spencer flips me off and scowls.

"I am not nor ever have been your sweetheart. So, you can go to hell."

"So can you. Tell your boss I ain't saying **** until I get my immunity."

With that, I jump back in my car and drive off in a fury.

******

IC: Vic Sage

Back in my apartment, trying to fill the gaps. What did Nyma have to do with the Kane case? Why did Driver die? Why did the Kanes? Who killed Bette and who killed her family?

A knock at the door, I push all my case files away and go to the door. A dark-haired woman in a pants suit is waiting for me. There's a badge in her hands.

"Mister Sage? I'm Special Agent Kate Spencer, FBI. I wanted to have a few minutes of your time."

IC: Vic Sage

I sit down in my recliner and look at Spencer as she sits on the couch.

"So, talk."

"Don't know if you keep up with the news, Mister Sage, but the FBI is investigating the GCPD on corruption charges."

"Shouldn't be too hard to find anything. Just point in any direction and you'll find dirt."

"It's not as simple as you think. Most of the cops we're looking into are hiding behind lawyers. We're going for RICO. From what I've heard, it makes sense. The police department is little more than a crime family anyway. If we're going for racketeering, we need to set up a clear and defined past of criminal activities. That's where you come in."

Ah, no...I know what that means.

"Tell me about Holiday, Mister Sage. You were involved in the investigation."

Holiday. The case that ruined my career. Drugs and corruption and murder all in a neat little package. Nygma cut deals and had the truth swept under the rug. That was my breaking point.

"No comment. You can get the case files. It's all there."

The FBI agent looks at me questionably.

"What does he have on you, Sage?"

"Who?"

"Nygma. He's a bully, I know the type. He has something on you, I can tell. Whatever it is, we can offer you protection if you testify."

Nygma's leverage is the fact that I put on a mask and kick the **** outta criminals on a nightly basis.

"Doesn't matter. Immunity of not, what he has on me will ruin me as a witness. I lose all my credibility."

She sighs and rubs her temples.

"Fine. Play this game. Here, I want you to have this..."

She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a business card.

"In case you ever feel like talking."

IC: Jim Gordon

The EKG machine to my right beats at a steady pace. I hate this goddamn hospital room. More than anything, I wish I could leave. The physical therapy this past week has been hard, but it's working. I can walk down the corridor before I give out. I won't be winning any footraces anytime soon, but I'm doing good.

The door to my room opens up and Sarah comes in. She smiles and gives me a quick peck on the lips as she sits.

"So who was that that called?"

"Bullock. He did what we asked and has results."

She pulls out her phone and brings up a picture. On the screen, Nygma is talking to some woman in a field.

"The lady is Kate Spencer, the lead FBI agent investigating the PD."

I lean back in my bed and sigh, closing my eyes. Damn you, Edward...Damn you.

"Your way will not work, Jim. He will not listen to reason. He's a snake, he always has been. He'd sell out his own mother to get ahead."

"I can't take this anymore, Sarah! My God, what have we become?! We're no better than the scum we fight."

She puts her fingers to my lips and shushes me.

"I understand, baby, I do...but if we can make it out of this...then we'll bring a new day to the PD. I promise."

"Fine," I say with a sigh. "Do it, but do it clean. Don't make his death seem so obvious."

"Don't worry. I got just the guy. Let me go call him."

Sarah leaves and I'm alone again. I look out the window at the city and shake my head. I've developed a soft spot for Nygma and he exploited it, trying to survive. Now, it looks like he won't make it until the end of the week.

Carnage27

11-26-2011, 12:06 PM

Cyborg

I wake up again...but this time in a bed. It feels odd to be in a bed, considering I don't really have to sleep since my transformation into the cyborg. Makes me yearn for those days when my biggest challenge was actually getting out of bed to start my day. You know, those days when it was cold and all I wanted was to stay under the blankets.

Swinging my legs over the side of the mattress, I stand and exit to the large, glass atrium where I originally met the other members of The Authority. I find Jenny Sparks, their leader, staring back at me, "So you're awake. Good. Engineer manage to turn your embedded programming off. At least as well as she could. Some of the stuff in your head is more advanced than even she can manage."

"So I was programmed-"

"Yes. To kill us. Starting with Quantum," she nods. "They knew you were a good person, and they wanted to use your innocence against us, which almost worked. But now Stormwatch has given us a weapon and a way to destroy them."

"Listen, lady," I say annoyed, "I may be mostly machine, but I'm not some object. And I'm not a weapon. I'm a person, damn it."

"A person who wants revenge," she smiles wryly. "Don't try and deny it. It's human nature. We have the ability to get it for you. Now are you going to sit down and listen to my plan, or are you going to complain more than a little girl?"

Batman

11-26-2011, 10:44 PM

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Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

With it hardly being the return to form that I was hoping for, I nevertheless bite my lip and heave myself over the rooftop's ledge, careful not to inflict any further damage on my person as I lightly tumble my way onto the concrete. I am still many things in this condition - this ankle be damned, but graceful is definitely not one of them. Flustered from the climb, I take a moment to breathe before slowly standing up, wincing at the pain as I gain proper footing. I had lined my boot with some leftover padding from my stay at Gotham General, hoping it would help allieviate the pressure, but there's really not much that someone can do for this. Other than sitting around and doing nothing, of course, allowing the bone to set itself and heal over a period of weeks.

To hell with that. I know in my heart of hearts that it's stupid, but I'm already addicted to the rush that comes along with doing this. When I was working with the precinct, it was there, nuturing itself inside of me. Flowing through my veins, you might say, as I realized that I needed the thrill of the nightlife. And were it not for Batman's shining influence, I would have never figured out a way to channel that into something productive. He helped me shape apart of who I am, and for that, I will always hold a level of appreciation towards him.

But we made a deal. He doesn't know it yet, but I heard exactly what he said while I was lying "asleep" in my hospital room after we took on The Dragon's forces. After an initial refusal, his mind was suddenly changed and he promised to train me to be like him. To do the things that he does, and operate in the methods of martial arts and stealth techniques. He'll never hear it from me, but he's the absolute best at what he does - I've seen him in action. The man's practically a warrior for this age, and the skills that he can offer me are exactly what I need to really get back at men like the late Salvatore Maroni.

As far as Gotham is concerned, however, Batman disappeared just last night. I read into the stories that the Globe's online newsfeed was doling out about it, and apparently he had a nasty little scape with the law. I skipped the more gruesome details, including how many of Branden's idiot SWAT wound up in the ICU after the encounter, but it didn't nessecarily bode well for the city's Dark Knight. He barely escaped the hounds that leveled an entire city block just to arrest him.

And now Bruce Wayne's in critical condition in the hospital. No one has said just how bad he's doing, but that status hasn't changed for twenty four hours. This is the same Bruce Wayne that I had to bodyguard during my short-lived stint as Andrea Beaumont, and the same that I threw away my career as an officer over. Not because of him, but because of who he was and what he was able to accomplished. I realized that if Wayne could fool the world into thinking he's some kind of airheaded socialite in order to masquerade as a vigilante after dark, I could take a page out of his book and adapt it to suite my own purposes.

Even through the pain, a smirk comes over my face as I focus the nightvision in the goggles on a particular building ahead.

"Ahh, there you are. I was wondering when we'd meet again."

Wayne Tower. Home to Bruce Wayne - home to Batman - and a penthouse that I've been intimately acquainted with. By now, the police have already combed over the scene after his aide gave them the cover story that it was ravaged by a gang of burglars. And with Mr. Jarvis staying at the hospital as a constant watch over Wayne's multiple surgeries since the day began, I'm going to take a wild guess and say that nobody's going to be home for quite some time.

Perfect. Wayne not be in the condition to help me capture Dimitrov anymore, but his equipment down in that cavern - the massive one that I discovered beneath the tower itself - will sure as hell give me everything I need to locate the bastard on my own. And since he's got more pressing matters on his hands, I'm sure that Batman won't mind in the least. After all, we had an agreement, right?

"Okay, Selina. Just remember... take it slow."

Pulling out the whip attached to my heel, I take another deep breath and toss it out at the seventy story tall skyscraper facing me. The cord latches around a gargoyle on the mid-level, and I firmly keep the handle locked in my palms.

"Forget the rooftops. That was a really bad idea!"

For all of my complaining about it, relief washes over me in a considerable wave as I make it to the top floor of the building - following a climb that took at least half an hour. Being forced to compensate for this sprained ankle is really starting to wear down on my nerves, but I digress. I'm just lucky to be alive after a stunt like that, given that so much as a momentary slip would have left me decorating the streets below. I finally make it over to the door, readying the lockpick from my belt.

Except that to my surprise, it isn't locked at all. Quite the opposite, infact. This door has been seriously damaged, with it's glass is shattered and it's foundations rocked. So much so tat I'm honestly starting to consider the possibility that Wayne's cover story was true. Low-level thieves may not have been involved, but someone was definitely here last night. And by the time that I push past the door and make it inside, my suspicions are immediately confirmed.

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"My god..."

It's a mess. Everything that lines the walls, the tile on the floors, the paintings and the sculptures - it's all scattered and broken, the complete opposite of when I stayed here just a few months ago. Back then, it was all prim and proper, like someone had taken a great deal of care to make sure it was one of the cleanliest homes in all of Gotham. Now? You couldn't sell the interior to a hapless wino. I barely find myself moving as I survey all of the damage, avoiding the risk of stepping on something that would cut into me.

Yet even with the incredible amount of glass and scraps of marble, nothing stands out to me more than the sheer volume of blood. Who's blood is anyone's guess, but I almost feel like I know the answer before it comes. No wonder he's in the hospital - whoever got to him certainly did a number.

God. Maybe I should come back. This isn't what I...

I hear a crunch of glass echo out from behind me. My immediate reaction is panic, but it's soon overwhelmed by the sense of urgency and dread that forces me to pull out the whip again. I turn back towards the door and prepare myself for the worst, as a shadow makes it's way onto the outside balcony. What if it's the person that did this to Wayne? Thrills or not, I wouldn't want to be caught dead in their line of sight.

"Who's out there?! Tell me right now, or I promise to scratch out your..."

Lenses light up from the darkness, catching me off guard. He's wearing some sort of a mask, or a helmet, but I can't tell for sure. Before I know it, he's made it inside, ready to confront me. Damn it, Selina. What have you gotten yourself into this time?

"No, I've got a better idea. Either you tell me just what the hell you're doing here,"

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"Or I'll make you wish you had."

Byrd Man

11-27-2011, 03:05 AM

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Previously

26 Hours Later
Vladivostok, Russia

They trickled out the airport's terminal one at a time, not going as one group in case they were being watched. Flag brought up the rear, and was the last one to exit the airport and head into the city. He caught a cab and instructed the driver to the location he wished to go. Fifteen minutes later, he was stepping out of the cab after paying his driver a few rubles. Flag slug his canvas bag over his shoulders and wrapped his jacket tight against himself to fight the Russian cold. He walked down an alleyway and took a right into a dead end...and nearly bumped into a waiting Amanda Waller.

"Were you followed?" She asked. Waiting behind her was the whole team, save for two members.

"I watched out the back of the cab. Unless I had a front tail, which I highly doubt, I'm clear."

"Good. Now that we're all here, let's head out. We've got to meet up with Turner and Kuttler."

Waller turned to the massive man standing in the back of the group.

"Mister Desmond, you remember where you're meeting us at?"

"Outskirts of town," Blockbuster grumbled. "I remember...'

"Good. And Roland? You ain't there, I press one button and go Gallagher all on that deformed melon you call a head. Got that?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Waller lead the rest of the group out of the alley while Blockbuster took a left and went further down the alleyway towards the west.

One Mile East
Vladivostok Train Terminal

Bronze Tiger navigated through the crowds at the train station. Calculator was walking by his side, a laptop tucked under Kuttler's arm.

"You've got two minutes to get it done? Will that be enough time?"

"Please," he replied, pushing his glasses up off the bridge of his nose. "It took me all of five minutes to bypass all the firewalls in the Spanish Government's servers and get into the Finance Minister's books. Five minutes after that and the country of Spain was bankrupt and I had six billion dollars."

"Well, considering you're not on a beach somewhere with all that money, I'm still wary. Just get in there and do you job. Hold on..."

Turner walked away from Calculator and towards an unsuspecting security guard. The man turned just in time for Turner to come crashing into him.

"Сукин сын!" The guard spat out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see where I was going. I'm sorry, sir."

"Часы, куда Вы идете!"

"Whatever you say..."

Turner held his hands up and stepped away from the guard, still apologizing. He turned around and walked to Kuttler, slipping a card key into his hands.

"Remember what Waller said," Turner mumbled as he passed him, "Nerve center to the train station is down the corridor, third door on the left. You got two minutes. Go."

Kuttler hurried off and down the corridor to a door with a bright red warning written in Cyrillic stamped on it. Calculator slipped the key card into the door and pushed it open after it buzzed him through. He was inside a room filled with computers and servers. The four operators in the room were too busy with their computers to notice Kuttler come in. He sneaked over to a server and booted up his laptop.

Sticking a USB cable into his laptop and running it to the server, he balanced the computer on his knee and went to work. It took Kuttler just a few seconds to bypass the security firewalls and get into the train station's mainframe. He piggybacked off that mainframe into the Russian Transport Bureau's database. All told, it took him a minute to do exactly what Waller wanted. Once it was done, he unplugged his laptop from the server and shut it down. He quickly left the control room and was back in the terminal just a few moments later.

"Done," Kuttler said to Turner once he was within earshot.

"With thirty seconds to spare. Which one is it?"

"It's on track 24."

Turner and Klutter made their way to a train engine standing alone by itself, only one passenger car hitched to it.

"Let's get to it."

Klutter climbed up into the engine while Turner entered the passenger car. Five minutes later, the rest of the team walked up to track 24 and entered into the passenger car.

"Welcome to the HQ for the rest of the mission, folks. Get your gear settled. Sarge, get your computer booted up. I wanna know the progress of the Russian convoy."

"Yes ma'am," was his gruff reply.

"Flag, go check up on Kuttler. See how it's going."

Flag dropped his bag and headed to the engine. Inside, Calculator had his computer hooked up to the train's controls.

"How's it going?"

"Almost there. We got real lucky the Russians overhauled their transportation systems. If we were dealing with Cold War era stuff, we'd be up s*** creek without a paddle."

"So, how in the hell are we going to go across Siberia in this thing and not get caught?"

"Simple enough, really," Kuttler said, peering at Flag over the tops of his glasses. "I hacked into the transport bureau and had this train listed as carrying a VIP, identity classified. That'll give us clearance at any check point from here to Moscow."

Kuttler typed on his keyboard quickly and hit the enter key. The train shuddered and began to slowly roll down the track.

"Aaaand now I can control our speed and direction. Damn, I'm good."

The train rolled out of Vladivostok Station and chugged through the town. It came to a stop on the outskirts of town long enough for Blockbuster to climb aboard.

"Alright, people," Waller announced from inside the passenger car. "We got a few thousand kilometers between us and our rendezvous point with the train convoy. We got about two days of down time coming our way. Get plenty of rest, but don't get soft."

Caculator started the engine back up and it began to pick up speed as Vladivostok faded behind them and they entered the open expanse of Siberia.

Siberia
1,600 Kilometers East of Chita
36 Hours to Rendezvous

The train the Squad was on rolled across the Siberian landscape. To the south was the Ural Mountains and China. The Chinese province of Da Hinggan Ling was a little more than a hundred kilometers away.

Inside the lone passenger car attached to the engine, the members of Task Force X busied themselves with activities to pass the time. Waller and Sarge Steel were going over the finer details of the assault plan in the front of the car. Rick Flag sat a few rows behind them. He was disassembling and cleaning his .45 pistol. A napping Bronze Tiger was two seats to his left. Nightshade was across the aisle on Flag's left. Her nose was buried in a book. Three rows behind her Count Vertigo sat, he was reading a magazine on rare and expensive wines. Calculator sat directly behind him. He was on his laptop and checking the train's speed and direction to makes sure everything was fine. In the back of the car, Deadshot sat with Blockbuster. They were playing poker on the dining table sat up in the back.

"Give me three," Desmond grunted. He placed three cards on the table. Lawton drew three cards and slid them at Blockbuster.

"Dealer takes two," Lawton said, placing two cards down and picking two new ones up.

"So this mission seems pretty ****ed, right?" Desmond reached for two chips and tossed them into the center of the table. "Bet."

"They're all ****ed up, rookie. But that's something you'll never have to deal with."
Lawton reached for four chips and placed them into the pot. "Call and raise."

"Yeah, you're right. I've got my parole after this. I'm as free as a bird." Blockbuster placed three chips into the pot. "Call and raise."

"You won't live to see that parole," Lawton said, he added two more chips to the pot. "It's just a fact. Raise."

"Look at me, Lawton. I popped mother****er's heads off with ease back home."

"This ain't back home. It don't matter how big your dick is, what matters is survival, the luck of the draw. You don't have that, I can tell. Bolt and Brick didn't have that and they got killed. Same thing with Psi and Mindboggler. It ain't about fate or serving a higher purpose. It's about pure animal instincts and luck. You got a ****ton of one, and none of the other."

"I'll show you luck, ***hole," Desmond spat. He threw a chip into the pot. "Call and show 'em."

Blockbuster flipped his cards over. He had one seven of hearts along with a pair of aces and a pair of eights.

"Two pair, dickwad."

"And an ironic two pair, if I may say so. The dead man's hand."

Lawton laid out his cards in order. He had the two of spades, the three of spades, the four of spades, the five of spades, and the six of spades.

"Straight flush."

Lawton reached over and scooped the chips into his hand.

"This is why I'll never die on a mission, no matter how hard I try."

While Blockbuster and Deadshot played cards, Flag finished reassembling his pistol. He slid in the clip, flicked on the safety, and placed it back into its shoulder holster.

"Flag," Waller called. "Come here for a sec."

Flag stood up and walked to the front where Waller and Steel were waiting. She handed Flag a metallic wristband. There were glowing buttons on the band with the codenames of all the criminal team members stamped under the buttons. Above the red buttons were black ones with the names of the rest of the Squad stamped under them.

"Here's your leash for the mission. Anyone acts up or goes rogue, don't hesitate to blow their heads off."

"And what about these black buttons? They weren't here the last time I used it."

"Oh, those..." Waller exchanged looks with Steel before she looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody else was within earshot. "Look, Flag, I meant what I said about not getting captured. If one of us does, even the non-criminals, we have to be prepared..."

"Wait...are you saying you put those nanites into our blood?!"

"Keep your voice down," Waller said in a stern tone. "Sarge and I got them in our blood too. Flag, this isn't us going up against some third world terrorists. This is a world power we've invaded. If they capture us and find out who we are, there's no telling what kind of s*** this could start. I'd rather die than be taken alive. After what happened in Africa, I'd think you'd feel the same."

Flag narrowed his eyes at Waller. "You should have at least asked our permission."

"Why? So you could bellyache and whine? Well, considering you're doing it now, maybe I should have told you up front. Listen, Flag, if this goes right we won't even need to use the nanites on any of us. Once the mission is over, I give all of us the stuff to wash them out. No harm, no foul."

Flag took the wristband from Waller and attached it to his right wrist.

"I'm tempted to now push the button marked 'The Wall.'"

"Ha. Sorry, doesn't work like that. All the non-criminal buttons are dormant until they're activated with my code."

"Right," Flag said in a sarcastic tone. "Good to see I have your complete trust and faith."

"I trust you, Flag, only about as far as I can throw you, but I trust you."

Flag rolled his eyes and walked back to his seat, the metallic wristband now strapped to his arm.

Carnage27

11-28-2011, 02:05 PM

:hal:Sinestro:hal:

"No, Lantern Rayner," I nod at the Blue Lantern. I honestly didn't expect Rayner to show up. He's a powerful and resourceful Lantern, but has always seemed incredibly loyal to the Guardians' way. But having him here gives us an invaluable fighter. "You are right on time. Please, have a seat."

Once the final member of my little, trusted circle has done so, I continue, "I've called you here tonight to discuss the state of the Lantern Corps. We all know of the impurity experiments the so-called New Guardians, so I'll spare going into them. As the three of you know, I find the choices of subjects for said experiments lacking. Not that they won't be able to tap into the impurities, but on the fact that they won't be able to control them. And due to that, I believe we must be ready."

"And how are we going to do that?" Rayner asks. "I mean, we're only four Lanterns. If others begin to fall to the impurities, we'll be dead in minutes."

"Too true," I acknowledge. "Us four against a wave of yellow, red, and orange ring-wielders would not last long. Which is why we need to recruit our own readiness team."

"You're kidding, right?" Katma half-laughs. "Sinestro, we get away with these private little meetings because I hide their true intentions from my superiors. I can't cover up a recruiting drive."

"Which is why we're only going to recruit those Lanterns which we know are trustworthy," I respond with conviction. "Do not approach those which you know are fickle or untrustworthy. I only want the best fighters, the smartest tacticians, and the strongest wills we have. Anything less will be unsatisfactory."

"And if this plot is uncovered? Then what?" Arkillo grunts his first words of the meeting.

"Place the blame on me," I respond. "Tell the Guardians I threatened you into participating. I will not have you taking the fall and leaving the Corps even more unprepared. Now, I believe it would be prudent to end this meeting. Keep in touch, and be vigilant."

MST3K 4ever

11-28-2011, 02:52 PM

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6221/6332727232_86ae1eff7a.jpg

Oswald walks into a dimly lit conference room underneath the Iceberg Lounge. Seated at the table is a vitual Who's Who of Gotham's most powerful underworld figures.

He closes the door and then everyone turns their attention to him and stand up.

Oswald says, "Thank you all for coming here today on such short notice."

Alexi Rockolov says, "Hey when you call a meeting I think it's safe to say it's not only serious it's pretty close to getting an order from the almighty himself."

Oswald chuckles and says, " Thank you my friend and I'm glad that you and the others recognize that if I call a meeting such as this it's because of the utmost importance."

He motions for everyone to sit down and asks, "Is the food and drink to everyone's satisfaction?"

Everyone nods and says things along the lines of "fine", "great" and "wonderful."

Oswald sits at the head of the table and says, "Excellent. Ladies and Gentlemen by now you all have heard about Bruce Wayne being in the hospital in critical condition."

Everyone acknowledges this and Oswald continues, "According to his PR people it was a home invasion. My question is this; was anyone in this room involved in the invasion?"

Everyone shakes their head or replies with a negative response.

Oswald says, "The last thing any of us needs is any undue attention that could come our way with something like this, and I've got a hard time believing that some 3rd rate punk managed to get luck enough to get into a building that probably houses a state of the art security system, into the Penthouse Suite, and then beat the crap out of Wayne without some serious skills that go far beyond a common thief."

Marlena DeGard asks, "Could it be someone new to Gotham, or someone who was hired to do this and left town once it was done?"

Oswald replies, "I considered that Marlena, but I checked all my contacts here and internationally. The people capable of pulling this off all had alibies, and the only ones capable, or with a motive, of hiring someone for something like this are in this room."

A uneasy silence falls over the room and Oswald says, "And judging from your reactions and body language that isn't the case. I've also been in contact with my sources in the police department and what kind of person does a home invasion and yet there is no reports of anything stolen? There are a lot of questions about this, but none that we need to concern ourselves with at this time."

Oswald lights a Cuban Cigar and says, "Here are the known facts: 1) Wayne is the hospital in a most critical state. 2) The Police have no leads on the break-in. 3) Every resource at Wayne Enterprises and the Hospital is being used to save Gotham's Golden Child. Everyone is focused on him. 4) Wayne Stocks are taking a hit. If Wayne dies his company will crumble without his name and charisma to keep it a float. Leading Wayne Enterprises to a very vulnerable place right now."

Alexi says, "So are you suggesting we slip someone into the Hospital to deal with Wayne?"

Oswald says, "No no Alexi. From what I've heard Wayne is under constant guard. No one can get within a floor of him. No no I'm thinking possibly something a bit more subtle."

Oswald takes a long drag and says, "Hostile takeover through the very same system that has allowed Wayne to prosper. I've got some people going over the deeds and so forth looking for some loopholes that might be useful. Right now Wayne's life is in a great deal of chaos, and in chaos there is opportunity if you know how to use it."

Byrd Man

11-28-2011, 04:35 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

IC: Vic Sage

I sit down in my recliner and look at Spencer as she sits on the couch.

"So, talk."

"Don't know if you keep up with the news, Mister Sage, but the FBI is investigating the GCPD on corruption charges."

"Shouldn't be too hard to find anything. Just point in any direction and you'll find dirt."

"It's not as simple as you think. Most of the cops we're looking into are hiding behind lawyers. We're going for RICO. From what I've heard, it makes sense. The police department is little more than a crime family anyway. If we're going for racketeering, we need to set up a clear and defined past of criminal activities. That's where you come in."

Ah, no...I know what that means.

"Tell me about Holiday, Mister Sage. You were involved in the investigation."

Holiday. The case that ruined my career. Drugs and corruption and murder all in a neat little package. Nygma cut deals and had the truth swept under the rug. That was my breaking point.

"No comment. You can get the case files. It's all there."

The FBI agent looks at me questionably.

"What does he have on you, Sage?"

"Who?"

"Nygma. He's a bully, I know the type. He has something on you, I can tell. Whatever it is, we can offer you protection if you testify."

Nygma's leverage is the fact that I put on a mask and kick the **** outta criminals on a nightly basis.

"Doesn't matter. Immunity of not, what he has on me will ruin me as a witness. I lose all my credibility."

She sighs and rubs her temples.

"Fine. Play this game. Here, I want you to have this..."

She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a business card.

"In case you ever feel like talking."

IC: Jim Gordon

The EKG machine to my right beats at a steady pace. I hate this goddamn hospital room. More than anything, I wish I could leave. The physical therapy this past week has been hard, but it's working. I can walk down the corridor before I give out. I won't be winning any footraces anytime soon, but I'm doing good.

The door to my room opens up and Sarah comes in. She smiles and gives me a quick peck on the lips as she sits.

"So who was that that called?"

"Bullock. He did what we asked and has results."

She pulls out her phone and brings up a picture. On the screen, Nygma is talking to some woman in a field.

"The lady is Kate Spencer, the lead FBI agent investigating the PD."

I lean back in my bed and sigh, closing my eyes. Damn you, Edward...Damn you.

"Your way will not work, Jim. He will not listen to reason. He's a snake, he always has been. He'd sell out his own mother to get ahead."

"I can't take this anymore, Sarah! My God, what have we become?! We're no better than the scum we fight."

She puts her fingers to my lips and shushes me.

"I understand, baby, I do...but if we can make it out of this...then we'll bring a new day to the PD. I promise."

"Fine," I say with a sigh. "Do it, but do it clean. Don't make his death seem so obvious."

"Don't worry. I got just the guy. Let me go call him."

Sarah leaves and I'm alone again. I look out the window at the city and shake my head. I've developed a soft spot for Nygma and he exploited it, trying to survive. Now, it looks like he won't make it until the end of the week.

"10-24 to dispatch..."

I hang the mic back up and sigh. Here I am, sitting in my car halfway down the block from some building the mob runs a book making scam out of, with no backup. I'm supposed to supervise the raid. ****ing Essen, she's doing this on purpose. Keeping me at arm's length while Gordon's on the mend. I pull a cigarette out and light it just as dispatch finally gets back to me.

"Dispatch to 10-24, go ahead."

"I'm here on Baker, waiting for the rest of the MCU guys supposed to take part in that 516. Where the hell are they?"
"One second, 10-24....10-20 is en route to your 20. ETA, five minutes."

"Fine. 10-24 out."

I take a long drag on my cigarette and blow the smoke out the cracked window. Another unmarked car pulls up beside me a few minutes later. The skinny white man and his fat, black partner step out and approach me.

"Inspector," Crowe says.

"Nelson, Sarge. Where's everyone else?"

"This is all we're doing," Davies grunts. "My snitch inside says they're running a skeleton crew. Four guys tops. Two of us go in the front door, while someone watches the back."

"Fine, fine. Let's get it over with. You two take the front, I'll watch the back."

"Think you could take the front with me?" Crowe asks.

"I got a bad back," Davies grunts.

"Goddammit, let's just go."

I stomp away from the two of them and walk up the block, pulling my Glock from my hip holster. Crowe and Davies catches up just outside the building. Crowe has a pump in his hands while Davies has a .38 revolver. Davies scurries around the back and we wait a full minute before going in.

Crowe kicks open the door and leads the way with his shotgun.

"GCPD, ****ers. Freeze!"

Three men around a table shoot upright. Before they even have a chance to move, Crowe blasts them with a shotgun round. Two of the men fall to the floor, buckshot in their chests. Crowe racks another round and shoots the one remaining crook in the stomach.

"Crowe!" I yell at him. "What the **** was that?!"

"Just doing my job and making it look like self defense."

He turns his shotgun on me and racks another load. My eyes go wide and I hit the deck as a round flies over my head. Sarge, from the back door, fires a few rounds at me that all miss wide. I roll to my right as Crowe blasts another shotgun round. Pellets scrape the side of my face, but the majority of the shell buries itself into the floor. I pull my gun and aim for Crowe's chest. Pulling the trigger, three shots hit him in the chest, center mass. He crumples to the ground. Sarge rushes over with his gun raised. One squeeze of the trigger, the bullet catches him in the cheek and blows out the back of his head. He falls next to his dying partner, dead on impact.

I crawl over to Crowe's wheezing body and grab him by the collar.

"Who set me up!"

"F...**** you, Nygma!"

He coughs and blood dribbles out of his mouth. Crowe's eyes roll into the back of his head and he gives out a final death rattle. Standing up on shaky legs, I look over the carnage and chaos. I swallow hard to hold down the bile rushing up my throat.

Gordon did this. He knows, somehow he knows I'm informing...I'm a dead man walking...but I'll be goddamned if I make sure he goes before me.

All the shots, it won't be long before a patrolman shows up. I rush out of the building and jump in my car, driving off in a hurry and reaching for my cellphone.

"Hello, this is FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer. I'm sorry I couldn't take you call, but leave you name and number after the beep and I'll return your call as soon as I can."

"Spencer, It's Nygma. I'm ready to come in and tell you what I know...Holiday and the rest of it, everything. I'm gonna set the whole GCPD on fire and watch it burn..."

IC: Jim Gordon

It's late when Sarah wheels me down the hallways of Gotham Central's top floor. Anyone who might even see me has gone home for the day. I don't want them to get their hopes up and get the rumor mill fired back up. It's just a visit to my office.

"I haven't touched it since you left that night," Sarah says as she flips on the lights. The same case notes, files, and papers are all in place on my desk. She wheels me over to the desk and I look down at all the paperwork for anything that might jog my memory. The day I was shot is still a blur. I remember nothing about it at all, except leaving the house to go to work.

All the paper work in front of me looks like standard stuff...except.

"What's this?" I ask Sarah, holding up a sticky note. On the yellow note is a bunch of numbers scribbled across it, underneath it is is a PIN number of 2104.

"Looks like it's a bank account number...you don't know what it is or where it's from?"

"No...let's find out."

Sarah walks away as he phone rings, she pulls it out and has a short conversation.

"Jim," she says once she's off the phone, "Crowe and Davies are dead..."

"Nygma was involved?"

"They don't know yet, but it looks like it."

"Alright, but out an APB. I want Nygma found and I want him taken alive. It's time he and I have a chat."

MST3K 4ever

11-28-2011, 04:46 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom floats through the room at a microscopic size studying the crime scene.

Finally she returns to 6 inches and floats next to Pete Ross.

He asks, "So did you see anything?"

The Atom replies, "Oh I saw plenty, and what I saw leads me to one answer and that answer triggers three more questions and each question is harder than the other."

Pete says, "That's usually how it works. What are you thinking?"

The Atom floats to an area away from everyone else and Pete follows her.

The Atom says, "What I've seen so far is to put it mildly out there."

Pete says, "Atom the President is going to be calling me within the next hour wanting answers I've gotta give him something or life is going to get ugly for me and a lot other people. Especially those who wear capes and masks since you're the ones that this was directed at."

The Atom says, "All-right. There is someone or something bigger than what we've seen at work behind the scenes."

Pete says, "Like Lex Luthor?"

The Atom looks somewhat surprised as Pete says, "I've had my suspicions for a while on him but I can't prove anything. Yet!"

Atom shakes her head and says, "No but something this big he's got his hands in the cookie jar. Proving it though is another thing, but I digress."

She floats down to a table and looks at Pete and says, "You've heard of 'The String Theory' right?"

Pete nods and says, "Yeah that life is a peice of string and when you ball it up the string touches other parts of the string it's what some of our Theorists are basing the hope of time travel on. Well maybe someday."

The Atom replies, "Yeah that's basically it, but what this is it's kinda like that. The Legion of Doom were able to open fibers of the string. Except they knew where they were going and how to get back there and instead of it being temporal it was based upon being focused on a specfic location."

Pete nods and says, "Like the transporters on 'Star Trek' if I get your meaning? Very specific locations."

The Atom asks, "Are you a Trekkie Pete?"

Pete smirks and says, "Continue please."

The Atom says, "Anyway for something like that to be done by us would take the top 1% of scientists at LexCorp, Wayne Enterprises, Star Labs, Met-U, The CIA, Gotham U, and Central City Tech at least 50 years working 24/7 and even then it would only be a percentage, maybe 2%, of the work needed to even agree on a framework for something like this. This is way out of our realm."

Pete takes an uneasy breath and The Atom says, "Not to mention we are talking about the power to rip open a portal like they went through in space and solid matter would take a generator the size of Madison Square Garden, and even then if you're lucky it would open for maybe 5 seconds."

Pete says, "All-right you've got me convinced so far. Got anymore?"

The Atom says, "I studied the remains nothing not even a metahuman has the powers to do what happened to these people. According to the database you gave me no one has powers on a scale like this. Something else bigger than all of us is behind this."

Pete asks, "Then why not invade us all at once and get it over with?"

The Atom replies, "By calling out the Justice League and trying to take us out they send a message of 'Resistance is futile' and we're taking you as a whole not in bits and peices. Slow torture."

Pete shakes his head and smirks at the Borg quote and says, "You're not gonna let me live that down are you?"

Atom replies, "Relax I own a set of Spock ears. Anyway that's what I got from just first impressions. I'm gonna head back to HQ and do some more computer work. I'll check back with you here in a few hours."

Pete nods and says, "Sounds good at least I got something to give to the President."

Atom says, "All-right then. Live long and prosper."

Pete shakes his head as The Atom travels back to the Hall of Justice.

She emerges from the computer and notices her costume as several glowing particles.

Great the stuff I was studying must've gotten on my costume and had a reaction to my trip through cyberspace. Better hit the decontamination chamber.

The Atom activates the computer scanner to make sure the computer is unaffected and activates the air-filtration system as well.

Once she is through the decontamination process she sees the particles are non-toxic.

The Atom then makes a note in the Justice League's computer of her findings at the U-N & the particles on her costume.

These particles though might give us a clue as to what is behind this.

The Atom takes a sample of the particles and puts them on microscope slide.

Still can't see a thing! I guess I need to take a closer look.

She begins to Shrink smaller and smaller on the microscope. Until she realizes something and she is now frightened.

These particles have a gravity pull to them pulling me closer to them...I can't break free even shifting my weight is useless...I can't do it...I gotta grow back.

The Atom tries to return to 6 inches but realizes

I can't grow...I'm shrinking out of control into nothingness!

The Atom shrinks smaller and smaller until she sees a bright red & blue flash and then....she's gone from our universe.

Byrd Man

11-29-2011, 12:15 AM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Siberia
1,600 Kilometers East of Chita
36 Hours to Rendezvous

The train the Squad was on rolled across the Siberian landscape. To the south was the Ural Mountains and China. The Chinese province of Da Hinggan Ling was a little more than a hundred kilometers away.

Inside the lone passenger car attached to the engine, the members of Task Force X busied themselves with activities to pass the time. Waller and Sarge Steel were going over the finer details of the assault plan in the front of the car. Rick Flag sat a few rows behind them. He was disassembling and cleaning his .45 pistol. A napping Bronze Tiger was two seats to his left. Nightshade was across the aisle on Flag's left. Her nose was buried in a book. Three rows behind her Count Vertigo sat, he was reading a magazine on rare and expensive wines. Calculator sat directly behind him. He was on his laptop and checking the train's speed and direction to makes sure everything was fine. In the back of the car, Deadshot sat with Blockbuster. They were playing poker on the dining table sat up in the back.

"Give me three," Desmond grunted. He placed three cards on the table. Lawton drew three cards and slid them at Blockbuster.

"Dealer takes two," Lawton said, placing two cards down and picking two new ones up.

"So this mission seems pretty ****ed, right?" Desmond reached for two chips and tossed them into the center of the table. "Bet."

"They're all ****ed up, rookie. But that's something you'll never have to deal with."
Lawton reached for four chips and placed them into the pot. "Call and raise."

"Yeah, you're right. I've got my parole after this. I'm as free as a bird." Blockbuster placed three chips into the pot. "Call and raise."

"You won't live to see that parole," Lawton said, he added two more chips to the pot. "It's just a fact. Raise."

"Look at me, Lawton. I popped mother****er's heads off with ease back home."

"This ain't back home. It don't matter how big your dick is, what matters is survival, the luck of the draw. You don't have that, I can tell. Bolt and Brick didn't have that and they got killed. Same thing with Psi and Mindboggler. It ain't about fate or serving a higher purpose. It's about pure animal instincts and luck. You got a ****ton of one, and none of the other."

"I'll show you luck, ***hole," Desmond spat. He threw a chip into the pot. "Call and show 'em."

Blockbuster flipped his cards over. He had one seven of hearts along with a pair of aces and a pair of eights.

"Two pair, dickwad."

"And an ironic two pair, if I may say so. The dead man's hand."

Lawton laid out his cards in order. He had the two of spades, the three of spades, the four of spades, the five of spades, and the six of spades.

"Straight flush."

Lawton reached over and scooped the chips into his hand.

"This is why I'll never die on a mission, no matter how hard I try."

While Blockbuster and Deadshot played cards, Flag finished reassembling his pistol. He slid in the clip, flicked on the safety, and placed it back into its shoulder holster.

"Flag," Waller called. "Come here for a sec."

Flag stood up and walked to the front where Waller and Steel were waiting. She handed Flag a metallic wristband. There were glowing buttons on the band with the codenames of all the criminal team members stamped under the buttons. Above the red buttons were black ones with the names of the rest of the Squad stamped under them.

"Here's your leash for the mission. Anyone acts up or goes rogue, don't hesitate to blow their heads off."

"And what about these black buttons? They weren't here the last time I used it."

"Oh, those..." Waller exchanged looks with Steel before she looked over her shoulder to make sure nobody else was within earshot. "Look, Flag, I meant what I said about not getting captured. If one of us does, even the non-criminals, we have to be prepared..."

"Wait...are you saying you put those nanites into our blood?!"

"Keep your voice down," Waller said in a stern tone. "Sarge and I got them in our blood too. Flag, this isn't us going up against some third world terrorists. This is a world power we've invaded. If they capture us and find out who we are, there's no telling what kind of s*** this could start. I'd rather die than be taken alive. After what happened in Africa, I'd think you'd feel the same."

Flag narrowed his eyes at Waller. "You should have at least asked our permission."

"Why? So you could bellyache and whine? Well, considering you're doing it now, maybe I should have told you up front. Listen, Flag, if this goes right we won't even need to use the nanites on any of us. Once the mission is over, I give all of us the stuff to wash them out. No harm, no foul."

Flag took the wristband from Waller and attached it to his right wrist.

"I'm tempted to now push the button marked 'The Wall.'"

"Ha. Sorry, doesn't work like that. All the non-criminal buttons are dormant until they're activated with my code."

"Right," Flag said in a sarcastic tone. "Good to see I have your complete trust and faith."

"I trust you, Flag, only about as far as I can throw you, but I trust you."

Flag rolled his eyes and walked back to his seat, the metallic wristband now strapped to his arm.

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita
1 Hour Until Rendezvous

The train carrying the members of Task Force X came to a stop on the tracks. Snow covered the ground all around the train tracks. Inside the passenger car, Amanda Waller held court one final time.

"Final briefing, people, so listen up."

The Squad members gathered around her at the front of the car. Everyone was decked out in their gear, colorful costumes mixed with weapons.

"There are gonna be two teams assaulting the train convoy, three teams total. Flag, Vertigo, and Blockbuster are team one. You're in charge of frontal assault and starting he ambush. Bronze Tiger, Deadshot, and Nightshade are team two. You'll swing around and launch an assault from the back. Sarge, Calculator, and I are team three, the support team. We'll be here in a reserve capacity, jamming any communications the Russians try to send. Both assault teams will fight their way to the middle. Once there, Blockbuster will use that brute strength of his and tow the car carrying the alien fighter to our train. We'll attach it to our engine and then comes the hard part. Dismissed."

Flag stood up and slung the M4 in his hands over his shoulder.

"You heard the lady. Team one, you're on me. Team two, follow Tiger's lead. Let's move out."

Flag led the way out the car. He jumped down on the ground. His boots crunched against the snow. The rest of the followed him out of the car and down the tracks. There were dense clumps of trees on both sides of the train tracks. Flag looked around and got his bearings.

"This must be a small forest or something. Perfect place for an ambush. Ben, we'll set up here. Your team can hunker down in the trees about 400 yards away."

"You got it, Colonel."

"Keep an eye out for the convoy. Signal when it's in sight."

"Can do."

The three members of the second assault team disappeared into the trees while Flag and his two members crouched down around the shrubbery at the edge of the train tracks. He could see his breath curling out of his mouth as he breathed.

"Here's the plan," he addressed Vertigo and Blockbuster. "Once they're in range, we're gonna hit them with some guerilla tactics. I fire the first salvo and disappear into the woods. Vertigo steps up and disorients them while Blockbuster and I step back out and mow them down."

Forty minutes later, Flag watched from his vantage point as a train engine rolled to a stop. Behind it was a passenger car and a freight car was attached to the passenger car. Nearly a dozen soldiers jumped out of the passenger car and began to advance towards the Squad's train.

"Flag to Bronze Tiger, go when you hear the loud boom. Waller, are we go?"

"Yeah, all communications within a mile radius are being blocked. Good hunting, Flagman."

"Roger that."

Flag slid the grenade launcher attachment to the end of his M4 and aimed for the engine. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

FWOOM!

The grenade shot out of the barrel and twirled end over end in the air until it struck the engine.

BOOM!

Flames began to race along the outside of the engine. Many of the soldiers fell to the ground while others swung their rifles towards Flag. Before they could properly aim, Vertigo activated his eyepiece. The soldiers began to wobble and their knees buckled as the sensation of vertigo overcame them.

"Now, Blockbuster!"

The large criminal stepped out of the woods, a machine gun clamped in his hands. He took aim at the downed soldiers and opened fire along with Flag.

Bratatatatatatatatata!

Flag ordered a cease fire once all the soldiers were down. Further down the train, Flag could hear gunshots.

"Flag to Bronze Tiger, gimme a sit-rep."

"We're making progress. We could use some backup."

"We're on the way. Flag out."

Flag, Vertigo, and Blockbuster began to advance on the train. The engine was now completely engulfed in flames. They were almost to the passenger car when Waller chimed in.

"Heads up, Flag. Company's coming your way."

As soon as she said that, Flag could hear the distant thump of rotors growing louder. A Hind gunship appeared over the tree top and let loose with automatic fire.

"Everyone fall back!"

Flag rushed towards the treeline with Blockbuster and Vertigo running in his wake. Bullets whizzed over his head and tore up the branches in the woods, chunks of wood exploded all around him as he jumped and slid for cover behind a tree.

Flag cursed under his breath and watched the Hind take another pass over the area, firing more machine gun rounds into the woods. He took a deep breath and began to assess the situation. He needed a new plan, he needed to take out the Hind.

He needed to keep moving.

MST3K 4ever

11-29-2011, 12:47 PM

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Atom feels herself falling at great speed and then slowing up until finally she lands.

Atom then sits up and as she shakes her head and opens her eyes she sees nothing but woods all around her and a babbling brook nearby.

Okay I'm somewhere in a forest emphasis on somewhere because I've got no clue where I am. The only thing I know for sure this isn't earth well at least as I know it. Let's see if...

She tries using all her powers and discovers her powers are gone.

Time for some assessment and then a nervous breakdown.All-right Atom look at this mathematically. Add one over eager scientist who is also a superhero trying to save the world plus several unknown particles that I've been exposed to plus my unique body chemistry plus not knowing where in the universe I am plus at my actual size I am so small J'onn probably can't lock in on me telepathically minus my powers being gone equals out to one thing.

Atom shakes her head and says, "I'm so screwed."

Just then she hears and feels a rolling rumble.

Oh this is just getting better and better. Time to get out of the way!

She retreats into a thick grove of trees and sees two opposing forces heading towards each other on horseback. Each side is wearing a suits of Armor and wielding Medieval weapons. Atom shakes her head twice

I've landed in 'The Twilight Zone'! Any second now Rod Serling is going to come strolling out I just know it. Or maybe even Allen Funt.

She watches the battle ensue. Each side taking losses and the brutality is unlike anything Atom has ever seen.

I don't know if I should consider jumping in and helping out, but I've got no idea where to get involved not to mention people are dying. When I get into a fight I'm looking to subdue and let the police take it from there. This is over my head. These people are playing for blood!

Just then she notices one of the Warriors has a symbol on his armor, but not just any symbol a symbol very similar to the one she has.

You've got to be kidding me!?!?! Well on the bright side I know who the good guys are...I think.

As the battle winds down the warrior who wears the symbol says, "My fellow Morlaidhans we have won the day, but be there no doubt this is but a small part of a far greater war that we have been waging for generations against the dreaded Agamons. I have no doubt though that one day we will live in peace and freedom shall be ours! And I am prepared to lead our people to that day or die trying!"

Those Morlaidhans left raise their swords and yell, "HAIL PRINCE LAETHWYN!"

Just then an Agamon warrior rises up from the side and raises his crossbow. Atom sees him and yells as she springs out of the trees, "PRINCE LAETHWYN GET DOWN!"

She grabs a sword and shatters the crossbow and in one motion she hits the warrior with the flat part of the sword shattering his nose and knocking him unconscious.

The Morlaidhans surround Atom and the fallen warrior. She turns and sees everyone looking at her.

Laethwyn approaches and says, "Who are you? Where do you come from and what are these strange threads that you..." He then notices the Symbol on her chest and says, "You wear our symbol, and you've saved my life for that I am grateful. Again though what is your name and where do you come from?"

Atom says, "My name is..." she pushes her mask back revealing her secret identity and says, "Rhiannon I come from..." she fights a building smirk and says with a straight face, "Tattoine. Some place far far away."

He motions for his horse to be brought to him and he says, "Interesting.Come with me. You are to meet my family and to rewarded for your bravery. I wish to learn more about you my Lady Rhiannon."

The prince extends his hand and pulls Rhiannon up on the Horse

Rhiannon gets on the horse with the prince and they head off with the other warriors following behind them.

Welcome to Wonderland Rhiannon.

Byrd Man

11-29-2011, 09:30 PM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

Central City, Missouri

I spend a few hours showing GL around Happy Harbor and making sure Snapper is doing alright. After that, I head back home and make sure everything in Central City and Keystone is quiet. I stop a mugging and prevent a jaywalking woman from being hit by an 18 wheeler. Then I head home and delve into another passion of mine...

http://i41.tinypic.com/micmrc.png

Superherohype, the internet's source for all things involving the superhero boom, is a pretty cool place...except for that weird guy in Gotham who posts those Batman fanfics. Batman vs. Blacula and Blackenstein was cool...but those romantic stuff he writes is a bit much.

BZZZT!

My cellphone buzzes and I pull it out. There's a text from Val. Private stuff, not for the faint of heart. She moved to Hub City two weeks ago to take a job at their STAR Labs facility there. We've been doing the long distance thing. Truth is, I could go to Hub and back before she could send another text. But I don't know if I should tell her the truth. Ralph and Jay are the only ones who know my actual identity, not even my parents know. I know Jay will never tell, he has secrets of his own. Ralph's ability to keep quiet has actually surprised me. I trust Val, I love her...maybe I should tell her.

I send her a text back, telling her I'm on my way to Hub City and I'll see her in an hour. That should give her a good surprise.

Before Val's reply, the phone goes off again...this time it's a call.

"Hello?"
"Yeah, I'm trying to reach Bartholomew Allen."

"This is him."

"Bart, this is Captain Darryl Frye over in Keystone City. You interviewed for a job here at the KCPD as a crime scene tech. If you're still interested, we'd love to hire you."

Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod.

"Son? You still there?"

"Y-yeah. I'm still here. I'm interested and I'd want to work for you."

"Excellent. Report here at 7 AM, day after tomorrow. I'll show you around and get you started."

"Thank you, sir. I'll be there."

I hang up the phone and pump my fist in the air.

"WHOOO HOOO!"

What has two thumbs, kicks ass, and is now employed?

This guy!

I lean back in my chair and look at the computer screen, smiling. My smile starts to fade away as I think of my forthcoming job. I check the threads on the hype and see what's going on before I click over to Google and search for "Crime Scene Technician."

Oh, boy...I really hope I don't screw this up...

Hub City, Michigan

In the few years I've been Flash, I've been all over the world and helped people from Hong Kong to Metropolis. The few places I don't go are Gotham, and Hub City. It's not that I don't care about the people in need, it's just that the two cities are almost like war zones. There's no way that even I could keep pace with all the crime.

So far I've rescued fourteen people from a tenement fire, stopped seven muggings, two armed robberies, and a drive-by shootings.

And I've only been in Hub for for two minutes.

Changing out of my Flash gear, I take a deep breath and walk up the stoop to the apartment building. I buzz the button marked "V. Perez" and wait.

"Hello?" Val's voice comes out of the intercom.
"Helloooooooo," I say in my over the top, early 20th century gentleman voice.

"Come on up," she says with a chuckle. The door unlocks and I head up to the third floor.

She opens the door for me and smiles as I walk in. I give her a quick peck on the lips.

"That all you got for me? I figured there'd be more. It has been awhile."

I stuff my hands in my pockets and look at her sheepishly. "We...uhh...we need to talk."

"Oh, God...what's wrong."

I take a deep breath, swallow hard and fight that nervous feeling in the it of my stomach.

"I'm the Flash..."

******

So Val and I talk it over for the next few hours. She's skeptical at first, but then all it takes is a few examples of my speed in action. Val's spooked at first, but calms down after a little while.

"So, why tell me this?" She asks after a long silence. We're sitting on her couch.

"Because...well, just so we can still have our relationship without it being long-distance. I can come to Hub every night and have to come up with a cover story."

"Oooh, so you just want a nightly booty call."

"I...I umm...I...I don't even-"

"Relax," Val laughs, softly elbowing me in the ribs. "It's just a joke."

"Whew, dodged a bullet there."

"So, if you can come and go from here to Central as you wish...dos that mean you'll spend the night."

Val puts a hand on my thigh and my face turns the color of my Flash outfit.

******

Keystone City Police Department

I come through the doors of the PD and see a slightly agitated look on his face.

"Allen! There you are! You were almost late!"

"Sorry, Captain Frye. Traffic was a mess."

That and I just left Hub City a minute ago. Not too bad, considering it's nearly 800 miles east of here.

"Well, come on, let's go."

I follow Frye down the hallway into the heart of the PD. We pass through the squadroom, where detectives and patrol officers mingle, and downstairs pass the morgue.

"Crime lab is right down here. You'll be under David Singh, he's the head of the department. It's two of you and two other techs."

"Just four? Central City has six techs and they're understaffed."

"Well, son, we ain't Central City. We're a smaller town, got a smaller budget. Only problem is we have almost the same amount of crime as Central City. So, the mayor and the city council are putting a priority on closing cases as fast as you can."

Frye opens the door into the crime lab and leads me into it. There are four desks and lab equipment on the far wall. A full laboratory is a room over.

"Singh, this is the new guy."

An Asian man with long hair and a goatee walks over.

"David Singh. You must be Bart Allen."

"That's me, sir."

"Just call me Singh."

"There you go," Frye grunts. "Already fast friends. Show him the ropes, Singh. He seems to know what he's doing, but you never know."

"I have just the first test. We got a home invasion/homicide on the northside. Detectives are waiting on the crime tech, and I got my other two folks out on calls. You're up, new guy."

"Now? Like, right now?"

"Sink or swim, son," Frye says, patting me on the back a little too rough. "Best of luck."

Batman

11-29-2011, 11:51 PM

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"What do you mean he stepped out for a drink?! His patient is dying!"

Fractically trying to keep up with the demand of the task at hand, pracitioneer Shondra Kingsloving angrily pushed her way past the two understudies that were hovering over the unconcious form of their battered and bloodied patient. In a little over thirty minutes, the nightly routine of the staff of Gotham General had been thrown to the wayside and substituted for chaos that could have never been anticipated. But when your patient was as high-profile as billionaire Bruce Wayne, one of the richest men in the entire country and a substantial figurehead to the city itself, the amount of scrutiny that followed him was mostly common sense. What made the matter almost impossible to handle, however, wasn't the public status of the patient - it was the clear abscence of Wayne's chosen personal physician, and the man that most would also consider one of the top neurosurgeons in the country. She would have been surprised at this behavior, had it been someone else she was working under. Someone far more dependable than Lucius Fox.

"EKG's already spiking again. We keep stalling on this and he may go into shock. Are we still waiting on Lucius?"

Glancing down at her watch as she raised the surgical mask to her face, Kingsloving's eyes darted back to Wayne, the area of the most trauma covered by a tarp that was beginning to run red with his blood. There wasn't much time to be had.

"To hell with it. We've got him prepped, his vitals are only just beginning to stablize. Go ahead and put him under. Anyone sees Fox, tell him that we've got his patient. As of now, this is my surgery ward, and if he wants to take it back, he can shove it up his---"

Instantaneously, the twin doors to the operating room burst open, followed by the rush of a man feverishly adopting scrubs. In a move that was considered unsanitary, he bit down on the material of the latex gloves to pull them further up his arm, catching the attention of all who watched. Just as he stopped, he noticed the stares and gave a sneer back.

"Oh for godsakes, grow up. It's a little saliva."

This was Dr. Lucius Fox, head surgeon of Gotham General. The man that was entrusted to save the life of Bruce Wayne.

Needless to say, not everyone shared that sense of trust.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up."

Fox placed the mask over his face and immediately tied it in place, walking past Shondra without so much as a glance of eye contact.

"Before you regale me in yet another of your typical rants, I was only just across the street. And might I add, fully aware of what was happening."

Shondra crossed her arms. "Well, that make sense. The man's life is at stake and you're off on another binge. What was it this time? Whiskey, tequila? Or were you just up for taking shots of whatever they served you?"

Eyebrow raised, Fox's tone conveyed a sense of dry tension that became immediately evident.

"Vitamin water, actually. Can someone please prop him up the correct way?! This is neurological trauma, not cardiac arrest! I don't know if you idiots are aware of this, but I need to actually reach his head!"

Defiantly, she stepped infront of him, blocking his path to Wayne.

"You're not doing anything. This is my surgery, Lucius. You want to skip out on your own patients? Fine, go ahead, but don't expect the rest of us to roll over for you at the last minute."

Fox sneered back.

"I don't recall ever asking you to be my understudy."

"Someone has to cover for you."

Fox shook his head, trying to step past.

"Well legally, Shondra, that isn't going to be you. So if you don't step out of my way, we're going to see two unfortunate things happen. The first is that you're walking right out that door with me, and we're both going directly to the board."

She glared back. "And tell them about the farce you've turned this into? Gladly. Just lead the way."

"The second - and the most crucial? Is that Bruce Wayne is going to die, and it's going to be because you won't let the past stay there. That's what this is all really about, and we both know it. So you can either shut the hell up or get out, because I'm not allowing either to happen tonight."

Without so much as a warning, Kingsloving's enraged eyes burned back at Fox and her hand went up to slap the doctor across the face. But seeing the looks of the colleagues around her, knowing that it'd be a mistake to go through with it, she instead composed herself and lowered the arm.

"You're a bastard."

Ripping off her gloves, she promptly exited the room. Leaving her regret-ridden ex-lover to silently watch her leave, before clearing his throat and turning towards the others, who traded confused looks in reaction to the unexpected drama. Fox looked back towards the EKG machine, noticing that it was just beginning to beep once again. He sighed, frustrated, rubbing his temple as he approached Wayne's side.

"Stop staring and get him stabilized. We're doing this right now."

The clock began to tick as the attempt to save Gotham's favorite son began.

:ybat:

IC: Alfred Jarvis

It has been several hours since this waking nightmare began. And yet I can barely sense the passage of time anymore. Everything - all that matters to me now - hinders entirely on what will happen next.

Sitting alone in a top-floor waiting room, my hands are clasped together in anticipation as I silently begin to think about how it all could have gone so wrong - knowing that the answer is one that I almost do not want to know. Fearing Mrs. Cooper's inquiries, I sent Richard off to head back home. He doesn't need to stay here for this. This is Bruce's fight alone. Even so, I have only been able to lie to myself once for this entire ordeal, telling my mind that the chances of his survival are almost as great as the chances that he will not. But the image of him scattered atop that sidewalk, barely breathing at all, still burns brighter than any attempts to calm my own nerves. Even through his hardships, I have never been given reason to mistrust Lucius Fox's skills as a surgeon, but the fact remains that he could easily walk through that door at any moment and tell me what I do not want to hear most of all. I have no misconceptions about it. Anything can go wrong, and he can easily...

Well. Perhaps that isn't what I should be focusing on. Because I also have to wonder to myself why I would even want to hear that he's survived. If he pulls through this, if some rare miracle comes and spares him this fate, he is only going to be that much more determined to rise again on this suicidal crusade. I've made no attempt to hide my feelings in the past - I have never been comfortable with it. The cavern, the equipment, that bloody outfit, any of it. There is nothing more that I'd like to be able to do than to one day tell him that I have had enough, that he's insane for ever taking it this far. I suppose I've even been given plenty of chances to do just that.

Every night. Every bloody night, I tell myself the same thing. I can just go and spare myself the misery of this man's campaign. Move back home, find something normal for a change. Leave him to carry out his absurd deathwish.

So why do I stay?

"Alfred?"

My attention is drawn towards the door, where I see one worried face that I've been dreading to look upon since this all began. I know that I should not have called her at this hour, under these circumstances, but I felt that it was only proper. The papers are already calling nonstop, asking all the wrong questions. But it is her more than anyone that I wish to know.

"Miss Bertinelli,"

I stand up from my seat, composing myself even in this state of affairs. I suppose it's a force of habit.

"It is good to see you again."

Immediately, without a response, she steps into the room and gives me a tight embrace. I am a bit taken off guard, at first, but I return it nevertheless. Helena is a dear friend to us, and one who I have always considered a close associate. If not to me, than to Mr. Wayne. There were fewer times I have seen him as happy as he was when they were close, those few years ago. Before he sucumbed entirely to this life of torment.

"My assistant just forwarded your message an hour ago. I dropped everything. God, I can't even imagine how you're feeling. Are you okay?"

With a tired sigh, I gently part from the embrace and sit back down.

"Normally I would say so. But today, I am not entirely sure."

Grabbing a freshly brewed coffee from the bag slung around her shoulders, she hands it to me and sits in the chair across.

"Why don't you tell me all about it."

Accepting the cup, I find the energy to smile back.

"I would, Miss. But to be entirely honest... I would not know where to even begin."

MST3K 4ever

11-30-2011, 12:31 PM

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Rhiannon stands out in the middle of a field with a sword circling a metal statue.

I've been here for a little over 2 months and I'm still trying to make sense of all this. I've tried at least twice a day but my powers are still gone meaning I'm here for a while I guess, but I like to think I'm making some good adjustments to life in Morlaidhan. Leather armor is a bit more binding than my Atom costume but I have a lot better peripheral vision without the mask being in my way. Although I do miss my L-Pod working out like this without music is just depressing.

Rhiannon spins and lays in two strikes against the statue.

I've been, for lack of a better term, drafted into the Army but I haven't seen any combat because I'm still going through basic sword training. Laethwyn has been training me and asking me a lot about the land I come from. I tell him bits and pieces but not too much. It would be my luck I say or do something and end up getting branded as a witch and burned at the stake. A bit out there I know but I'm not willing to take the chance. Not to mention I've got my own room at the castle can't give that up!

Just then Laethwyn arrives and says, "No no again you are merely thinking of the sword as a weapon. Lady Rhiannon remember the sword is far more than just a weapon but that it is an extension of who you are and your will. Take a battle pose and extend the sword."

Rhiannon does as Laethwyn says and he approaches behind her and he asks, "What do you see?"

She replies, "A statue?"

Laethwyn says, "No that is the one who's mission and purpose in life is to take what is yours. If you do not have the mindset of a warrior when training then you will never have it in battle. It is not something that you can suddenly change into on the battlefield it is something that is refined and sharpened here!"

Laethwyn moves in closer almost whispering in her ear, "You think this is nothing more than physical training that way of thinking is what holds you back Lady Rhiannon and will get you killed on the battlefield. Each time you train you must believe that it will be your last. Tomorrow is something you must fight for, because someone wants to take it from you. What are you prepared to do to stop them? Or do you choose to let them take it from you?"

Rhiannon listens to what Laethwyn and she feels her breathing change and her emotional state shift from just another workout to focused intensity.

She remembers the crooks she has battled, the training with Bishop, her time at CADMUS, and then it shifts to Waller. Rhiannon feels the anger build up and her blood boils.

Rhiannon growls and then screams, "AHHHHHHHHH!" She strikes the statue 3 times with speed and intensity. Until the 4th time when the head of the statue flies off.

She stands there and still with a look of anger and focus as Laethwyn says, "Impressive. Over the ridge is three more just like this one."

Rhiannon without hesitation sprints over the ridge and begins striking them as well. Eventually all three are headless and she asks Laethwyn, "What's next?"

Laethwyn replies, "Another week of training and then you will be ready."

Rhiannon says, "Another week? What's left."

Laethwyn says, "You've made some impressive strides Lady Rhiannon but now you must learn to summon what you've learned this day as though it were second nature to you."

Laethwyn crossed to Rhiannon and says, "You are a unique one Lady Rhiannon, and I wish to not only see you survive but thrive as well. I firmly believe that you are destined for great things here in Morlaidhan."

Rhiannon replies with focus, "As you wish my Prince."

She sheaths her sword and gives a slight bow.

Playtime is over goodbye to Rhiannon Plamer. My name is Lady Rhiannon-- warrior. Heaven help anyone who gets in my way.

Byrd Man

11-30-2011, 09:10 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

"10-24 to dispatch..."

I hang the mic back up and sigh. Here I am, sitting in my car halfway down the block from some building the mob runs a book making scam out of, with no backup. I'm supposed to supervise the raid. ****ing Essen, she's doing this on purpose. Keeping me at arm's length while Gordon's on the mend. I pull a cigarette out and light it just as dispatch finally gets back to me.

"Dispatch to 10-24, go ahead."

"I'm here on Baker, waiting for the rest of the MCU guys supposed to take part in that 516. Where the hell are they?"
"One second, 10-24....10-20 is en route to your 20. ETA, five minutes."

"Fine. 10-24 out."

I take a long drag on my cigarette and blow the smoke out the cracked window. Another unmarked car pulls up beside me a few minutes later. The skinny white man and his fat, black partner step out and approach me.

"Inspector," Crowe says.

"Nelson, Sarge. Where's everyone else?"

"This is all we're doing," Davies grunts. "My snitch inside says they're running a skeleton crew. Four guys tops. Two of us go in the front door, while someone watches the back."

"Fine, fine. Let's get it over with. You two take the front, I'll watch the back."

"Think you could take the front with me?" Crowe asks.

"I got a bad back," Davies grunts.

"Goddammit, let's just go."

I stomp away from the two of them and walk up the block, pulling my Glock from my hip holster. Crowe and Davies catches up just outside the building. Crowe has a pump in his hands while Davies has a .38 revolver. Davies scurries around the back and we wait a full minute before going in.

Crowe kicks open the door and leads the way with his shotgun.

"GCPD, ****ers. Freeze!"

Three men around a table shoot upright. Before they even have a chance to move, Crowe blasts them with a shotgun round. Two of the men fall to the floor, buckshot in their chests. Crowe racks another round and shoots the one remaining crook in the stomach.

"Crowe!" I yell at him. "What the **** was that?!"

"Just doing my job and making it look like self defense."

He turns his shotgun on me and racks another load. My eyes go wide and I hit the deck as a round flies over my head. Sarge, from the back door, fires a few rounds at me that all miss wide. I roll to my right as Crowe blasts another shotgun round. Pellets scrape the side of my face, but the majority of the shell buries itself into the floor. I pull my gun and aim for Crowe's chest. Pulling the trigger, three shots hit him in the chest, center mass. He crumples to the ground. Sarge rushes over with his gun raised. One squeeze of the trigger, the bullet catches him in the cheek and blows out the back of his head. He falls next to his dying partner, dead on impact.

I crawl over to Crowe's wheezing body and grab him by the collar.

"Who set me up!"

"F...**** you, Nygma!"

He coughs and blood dribbles out of his mouth. Crowe's eyes roll into the back of his head and he gives out a final death rattle. Standing up on shaky legs, I look over the carnage and chaos. I swallow hard to hold down the bile rushing up my throat.

Gordon did this. He knows, somehow he knows I'm informing...I'm a dead man walking...but I'll be goddamned if I make sure he goes before me.

All the shots, it won't be long before a patrolman shows up. I rush out of the building and jump in my car, driving off in a hurry and reaching for my cellphone.

"Hello, this is FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer. I'm sorry I couldn't take you call, but leave you name and number after the beep and I'll return your call as soon as I can."

"Spencer, It's Nygma. I'm ready to come in and tell you what I know...Holiday and the rest of it, everything. I'm gonna set the whole GCPD on fire and watch it burn..."

IC: Jim Gordon

It's late when Sarah wheels me down the hallways of Gotham Central's top floor. Anyone who might even see me has gone home for the day. I don't want them to get their hopes up and get the rumor mill fired back up. It's just a visit to my office.

"I haven't touched it since you left that night," Sarah says as she flips on the lights. The same case notes, files, and papers are all in place on my desk. She wheels me over to the desk and I look down at all the paperwork for anything that might jog my memory. The day I was shot is still a blur. I remember nothing about it at all, except leaving the house to go to work.

All the paper work in front of me looks like standard stuff...except.

"What's this?" I ask Sarah, holding up a sticky note. On the yellow note is a bunch of numbers scribbled across it, underneath it is is a PIN number of 2104.

"Looks like it's a bank account number...you don't know what it is or where it's from?"

"No...let's find out."

Sarah walks away as he phone rings, she pulls it out and has a short conversation.

"Jim," she says once she's off the phone, "Crowe and Davies are dead..."

"Nygma was involved?"

"They don't know yet, but it looks like it."

"Alright, but out an APB. I want Nygma found and I want him taken alive. It's time he and I have a chat."

IC: Vic Sage

"Naah, that's fine," I say into the phone. I'm in my car, waiting on Stan. Helena is on the other end of the phone, at the hospital. Her boss is in critical after some mysterious injury.

"It's fine. I'm meeting my old sergeant in a few minutes, I don't know how long we'll be....yeah....yeah, just a case. I should be done tonight and if you're still at the hospital, I'll swing by. Alright, see you soon. Bye."

I hang up as Stan parks his car by mine and gets out.

"Got the court order, Vic. Let's do this."

I follow behind Stan into Gotham Savings & Loans. He approaches a clerk and flashes a badge. "Sergeant Merkel, GCPD. I got a search and seizure warrant for a safety deposit box."

The clerk looks at the warrant and hands it back. "Hold on a moment, please."

It's a good thing I managed to catch this when I went through the contents of Driver's desk. There was a scrap of paper with a note on it. "Gotham Savings & Loan. Box 214, Account no. 04911819, PIN no. 2104"

Since Driver's dead, it was a breeze to get a warrant for the box. There's no telling what's in there, but it may be another clue.

"Gentleman," a man appears behind the counter. "May I see your warrant?"

Stan hands it over to the manager and he breezes through it. "Very well, follow me."

We follow the manager into the vault where the deposit boxes are. He walks over to box 214 and unlocks it, sliding the box out. Inside is a bound notebook and a burnt CD.

"Huh."

Stan pulls them out of the box and nods at the manager. "Thank you, sir."

We follow him out the bank and into the street. We're walking two our cars when his phone rings.

"Hello?...What?...Seriously? Goddammit! Okay, I'll be there."

He hangs up and hands me the notebook and CD.

"Two cops got killed in a botched raid. They're calling all hands on deck for Homicide. I gotta go. Let me know what you find."

"I will."

Merkel jumps into his car and peels off, hitting the lights and tearing down the street. I walk over to my car and get inside. I take the CD and slide it into the player.

"....Test, test, one, two three......My name is Detective Marcus Driver, badge number 09832. If you're listening to this, that means I'm dead or in prison. Before we start, all you need to know is that all of this, every bit of this mess, is the fault of Edward Nygma..."

******

IC: Jim Gordon

Going on twelve hours and and there's still no sign of Nygma. All the patrols are out there, searching for him. I'm holed up in my office, looking out at the skyline from my wheelchair. The lights of the city are beginning to come on as the sun sinks over the horizon. I've always loved this view, it's where I come to think.

There's no telling how many cases I've cracked by gazing out the window and thinking it over, first when I was a rookie detective on the fourth floor, then as a sergeant in my office in the Eastern. Then as a lieutenant and captain on the seventh floor. And now here, as commissioner.

This is where I've achieved some of my greatest victories, and where I've ruined countless lives. All in the name of the city, all in the name of keeping it safe. My old service revolver is in the desk drawer. With Nygma preparing to hand my head on platter to the FBI, maybe this is a fitting place to end it all? It wouldn't hurt. Just squeeze the trigger and I'm gone. I wheel over to the desk and open the drawer, I look down at the gun and reach for it.

"Jim," Sarah says from the doorway. I jump, startled and look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, babe," I say as I close the desk drawer. "You just sneaked up on me."

"I found out exactly what that slip of paper is that was left on your desk. It's a safety deposit box from Gotham Savings and Loans. The account is in the name of Marcus Driver."

With the mention of Driver's name, everything clicks into place and my memory comes rushing back.

"Oh, my God, Sarah! You have to get to that box right now!"

"What is it, Jim?"

"No time, just go to the bank now."

"It's closed. They closed for the day."

"I don't care! Call the bank manager and get him back there to open it up. Call Judge Fayden and get a warrant, whatever it takes! I want what's inside the box before the night's over!"

Sarah nods and runs out. My heart is racing. I reach for the phone on my desk and dial a number.

"Hello?"

"Bullock, it's Gordon. Meet me in my office right now. I've got a plan."

I hang up the phone before he can answer. This is it. My chance to get out of this alive and without any bodies.

******

IC: Edward Nygma

I look around the windowless room, like an interrogation room. This time, I'm on the side the criminals sit at. I guess this is part of it all, the first step is admitting I'm a criminal.

On the table in front of me is a contract. It has all my wishes listed. In return for my testimony I will get: Full immunity from criminal prosecution, entrance into the Witness Relocation Program, and a monthly stipend as a FBI consultant for future cases.

In short: My ticket out of this ****ing hellhole.

Agent Spencer walks in and takes a seat across the table from me.

"Does everything look alright?"

"Yes, but two minor things: I want to relocate to somewhere far from here. Oregon or Arizona. Also, I want 24 hours to settle my debts and accounts. After we're done, I leave here and come back tomorrow night for good."

"The answer to your first question is something you'll have to take up with the Marshal Service. With your second question, that's a no."

I look straight ahead, past Spencer and into the two-way mirror behind her. I know they're watching, FBI agents and God knows who else.

"Then no testimony. I want 24 hours. Doesn't matter what happens to me, I'll keep my nose out of trouble and I'm all yours."

Spencer looks back at the glass and shrugs.

"Fine," Matthews, her boss, booms over the intercom in the ceiling of the room. "24 hours, Nygma. You screw us over and that's it. You'll be in jail right alongside Gordon."

I nod and give Matthews a semi-salute from behind the glass. I take the pen and sign the contract in my sprawling signature.

Spencer pulls out a digital recorder and starts it, she slides it to the middle of the table.

"Official FBI interview with Inspector Edward Nygma, GCPD. Present are FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer. Please, state your full name and rank..."

I take a deep breath and lean forward nervously. "Edward Frank Nygma, Detective Inspector and Chief of Detectives, Gotham City Police Department."

"Anytime you're ready. Start from the beginning, and tell it all. Anything you leave out voids the deal."

I take another deep breath and lick my lips. They're dry, very dry. I can feel the nervous pit in my stomach. After all this time, all the lies that have been swept under the rug, all the things I've had to do to survive. I've never told a soul...

Except now.

I stay silent for a few minutes, contemplating what to say and how to say it. Spencer fidgets and looks back at the glass when I finally start to talk.

"I guess...I guess this all started the night Black Mask was killed. One punch started it all..."

"...when I walked in, Umberto Maroni was dead. Selina had shot him. She was crying and afraid. I helped her get rid of his body, I chopped him up into teeny, tiny parts and dumped him in Slaughter Swamp..."

"...Michael Akins became Holiday because of what Gordon and his corrupt drug unit did to him. He was honest, he threatened to inform on them and they destroyed his life..."

"...I pulled strings and made a deal with Gordon: I would destroy Akins' testimony and sweep his real motive under the rug, he would promote me to Chief of Detectives. He bought my silence, I let him buy my silence. I blackmailed Vic Sage into keep quiet. He slugged me and quit...Can't say that I blame him..."

"...While everyone was busy at the wedding, Maroni turn tail and ran. He saw me coming for him...but he didn't expect me to be waiting for him in the office when he got there...he begged me for mercy...I shoved him out his office building and watched him go splat."

The part involving Dent comes next...Nobody knows about it. Nobody needs to know about it. I press on, avoiding that part.

"Bette Kane's murder haunted me, haunted Driver as well...Kate Kane and I started ****ing each other while Driver worked the case. He solved it and it killed him..."

"I shot Harold Kane four times in the head...and then Kate I shot four times in the chest, each bullet for the people they killed..."

"...Bane had me on the ground, close to killing me. I begged for mercy, I pleaded for it. I made a deal. I would give him Batman..."

"...Crowe turned and pointed his shotgun at me, nearly killed me. I killed him and his partner, Davies in return. That was twelve hours to go."

I look up at Spencer and see the repulsed looked on her face.

"And I think that brings you up to speed."

She stares, almost shocked and amazed.

"I thought...I thought all you were doing was ripping off drug dealers, stealing evidence and selling it. Not this!"

"Please," I sneer. "You got enough for Gordon and then some."

I stand up and look at the mirror.

"Full immunity for all that. And 24 hours starting now."

Spencer looks up at me and shakes her head as she turns off the recorder.

"You're sick, you're twisted. The fact that I gave scum like you full immunity will ruin me!"

I stare down at Spencer and shrug.

"I've done worse."

I breeze out of the interrogation room without a look back.

******

Out to my car, I pull out my keys and begin to unlock the door when footsteps come up from behind. I turn around just in time to see Bullock, a cattle prod in his hands. The prod strikes me in the ribs and I convulse all over before I drop to the ground. Bullock brings his foot down on my head and everything goes black.

MST3K 4ever

11-30-2011, 09:51 PM

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6221/6332727232_86ae1eff7a.jpg

Oswald watches continuing coverage of the Wayne Hospitalization.

He calls his source in the Hospital and says, "Latest."

His source says, "It's a fluid situation. The doctors are bickering amongst themselves they're trying to get him stablized. If they keep this up Wayne's a goner. I know this much it's a miracle he's lasted this long. If it was anyone else no way they go this far to keep him alive they would've been calling for a Priest. They just want to keep that annual contribution from Wayne coming in."

Oswald says, "Well you get what you pay for, but all that being said keep me in the loop if anything happens."

Oswald hangs up the phone, fixes a drink , looks down on Main Street, and sees all the properties that Wayne owns.

He raises his glass and says, "Soon you will all be mine."

Oswald downs his drink and gets ready for the opening of the lounge for the P-Diddy video shoot.

Andy C.

11-30-2011, 11:38 PM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

OOC: Skipping ahead a few days to keep things moving. I'm going to assume the Catwoman/Red Hood stuff is happening before this.

Since the attack on Mister Wayne, life has been....complicated. Alfred and I were able to get him to a hospital in one piece; as far as I know, his condition is still critical. Once we were sure he was being treated, Alfred sent me home, partly to calm Miss Cooper down, but I think mostly because he doesn't think I'm ready to deal with how bad the situation is.

I think he knows a little about what I've been doing for the last year when no one was looking, but there's know way he knows even half of the horrific things I've seen. Even so, he's right; I really don't know how to deal with the fact that the man who took me in after I lost my Dad is fighting for his life, and probably losing.

Another thing I don't know how to deal with is the attention from the media. Mister Wayne was....is....a pretty major celebrity in this city, so naturally, the press has been hounding us for comments about the home invasion. They've been ringing Miss Cooper's phone off the hook, to the point where she's unplugged it from the wall. Reporters and photographers have strolled right in to Bruce's penthouse in the middle of repairing the damage done, trying to get a word from Alfred. Nobody made this much fuss when my real father was murdered, but then, I guess he wasn't famous enough to matter.

Thankfully, I haven't run into any at school yet. It's my first day back since the night in the cemetery, and I can feel everyone's eyes on me as I sit down at my usual spot for lunch. While I've put on my best "do not talk to me" look and it's been able to keep most people away, there have also been a bunch of classmates and even teachers who just can't help but ask about it. Most of these people have never given me the time of day since I came to Gotham Heights, but now they feel like chatting. I know it's petty considering everything else going on, but I really, really wish they would just leave me alone.

"Hey," I hear Rachel Roth say as she sits down next to me, the only person who doesn't keep their distance.

"Hey," I say back.

We eat our lunch in silence, and as soon as she finishes her meal, she speaks up again.

"Are you....you know....okay?" she asks. Honestly, it's the first time since the attack that someone's asked about me, and not about Mister Wayne.

"I...I dunno, I--" I stammer, catching the lump in my throat. "Remember when I said I might be going away, and you told me not to do anything stupid?"

"......you did something stupid, then?"

"Very stupid," I nod. "A lot of very stupid things, in fact. I can't really......I don't want to get into it. Not where there are people listening, anyway."

Rachel nods to say she understands, but she couldn't. I may not have been the one who threw Mister Wayne off of the balcony, but it was because of me and my stupid misguided revenge that he wasn't able to fight back. He's hanging on by a thread, and so much of it is my fault.

"I don't know how much of it I can actually tell you," I say. "There's a lot of, y'know......stuff.....involved. And not just my own. I screwed up, really bad, and now.......I just.....can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," she says, not sure what else to say--mainly because I can't tell her what actually happened. "I just....I wanted to know how you were holding up."

"Well.....thanks," I say.

After a few agonizingly quiet minutes, she finally changes the subject.

"So I got a call over the weekend about my father," she says. "The guy called himself Sebastian. He was a friend of his, from the group he was a part of before he ran off. He said he had information about where my father is and how I can get in touch with him."

"Huh," I say. "That sounds kind of shady; are you sure you can trust him?"

"Not at all," Rachel answers. "He wanted to meet me this weekend, but I wasn't comfortable with that. I don't know anything about this Sebastian person; no way I'm meeting him in person after one phone call. I mean, for all I know he could just be some creep who stalks teenage girls with father issues. And even if he did know my father, I still don't know much about their group. I asked my Mom if she knew Sebastian, and she took away my phone."

"Ouch," I grin. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure," she says. "I really want some answers about my dad and why he left, but......I get a really bad feeling from that guy. I don't know....maybe some things are better off not knowing."

"Well, this may not have a lot of weight coming from me," I say, "but, well.......don't do anything stupid; if it seems like something's up....if you think you might, y'know, need help...."

"I'll be careful, Dick," she says, waving my offer away. "Still, thanks."

"Any time," I say. Then, after a moment, I continue. "So...um....would you be cool with hanging out with me some time, after school?"

Rachel looks at me with an eyebrow raised.

"Define 'hanging out,'" she says skeptically. As soon as she looks me in the eye, my ability to speak turns to mush.

"Well, I mean, I don't mean like a date or that kind of thing," I sputter. "I just mean, y'know, watch TV, talk about stuff, just...hanging out. To get our minds off of all the other stuff we've got going on. It doesn't have to be, y'know...."

"I'd like that," she says. "I'm going to an art exhibition tomorrow night if you want to come along."

"That, um, that sounds good."

"Cool," she says, satisfied. "It's at the Adams Gallery downtown, at six. I'll meet you there. You know, so people won't think we're on a date or anything like that."

"Cool," I manage to say, smiling for the first time in what feels like months.

MST3K 4ever

12-01-2011, 01:24 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

Rhiannon and several other warriors return from yet another battle against the Agamons.

She walks into the tavern with some of her fellow warriors and removes her battle gear.

Rhiannon sits down as one of the warriors says, "I thought for sure we were dead this time, but Lady Rhiannon came up with a brilliant plan. I would've never thought of taking to the trees and assaulting the enemy from there so quickly."

Rhiannon says, "It was a good idea. I just wish I would've come up with it before 4 of our warriors were slaughtered. Their sacrifice gave us this victory."

She motions for the bar-maid to bring a round to their table. After they each receive a mug of ale she says, "To the fallen. May they now know peace."

They all raise their mugs and say, "To the fallen."

Just then someone flings up the door and says, "The Traveler is here. He is in the Town Square! Come quick!"

Everyone begins to file out of the tavern to see a black cloaked figure with a hood over his head on a stage in the town square talking about visions of what he has seen.

Rhiannon finds Laethwyn and stands next to him. They speak in almost whispers.

He asks, "When did you get back?"

Rhiannon replies, "A few moments ago. I missed you."

He replies, "I missed you too my Lady."

Rhiannon says, "Sorry I didn't come to the Castle right away to give you a briefing, but my troops and I felt we needed to honor the memory of some fallen comrades first."

Laethwyn says, "Understood. How many?"

Rhiannon replies, "Four. They were just raw recruits Laethwyn and they sacrificed themselves without hesitation." She shakes her head

Laethwyn says, "We will all remember their sacrifice this day, but for now this is most interesting."

Rhiannon says, "Yeah who is this Traveler? He seems to have the town in a pretty good grip."

Laethwyn says, "No one knows for sure who he is or where he comes from. He speaks of visions of the future, gives guidance, and tells fantastic stories of our past as well. He appears maybe twice every 3-4 years and some say he is well over 1,000 years old."

Rhiannon says, "Well I guess I'm right on time I've been here for about 3 and a half years."

The Traveler says, "There is one here who wasn't here last time. She has come from far away."

Rhiannon feels about every eye turn and look at her.

No I don't feel too self-conscious right now. I wish I had my powers back right now I'd find a nice corner and shrink away.

The Traveler says, "You Lady Rhiannon. I wish to speak with you in private. Walk with me. Fear not my friends I shall return!"

Rhiannon is frozen at first and Laethwyn says, "Go! This is a rare honor indeed. An audience with the Traveler is almost unheard of. My Great Grandfather is the only other person who has received this honor."

Rhiannon says, "I'm getting that. I'm trying to figure out how he knew my name?"

Laethwyn says, "He's the traveler. That's how."

Rhiannon replies, "Right. I keep forgetting that."

Rhiannon walks with the Traveler into the woods.

Once they are in the woods Rhiannon asks, "I gotta know one thing. How did you know my name?"

Traveler replies, "I know many things Dr. Rhiannon Fay Palmer of the Earth City Metropolis."

Rhiannon is stunned silent and stops. Traveler says, "I am well aware of how you came here. An over eager scientist with shrinking abilities and so forth. I was the one who made sure you didn't slam into the ground when you fell from the sky."

Rhiannon asks, "How? Just how do you..?"

Traveler says, "I am called Traveler for a reason. Many times I have watched your dimension or form of reality if you prefer. You in particular are most interesting. In your own dimension or reality you practice non-lethal methods, and yet here you have no issue with killing in combat."

Rhiannon says, "This is a war I am fighting to survive and to protect others."

Traveler says, "And what of Superman who calls the war in your place of origin the never ending battle? Isn't that another kind of warfare/"

Rhiannon replies, "It's different somehow. It just is. Unless you know what I've been through and seen you've got no right judge me."

Traveler says, "I did not mean to anger you. I am trying to learn more that is all. A new subject then; You care very deeply for Laethwyn, and he does for you."

Rhiannon says, "Very much. You should know that. It's kinda strange I had to take trip to wonderland to find my love."

Traveler asks, "So when are you going to tell him the truth about you?"

Rhiannon replies, "I don't know yet."

Traveler says, "Don't waste time. Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, and if you are going to be with him he has a right to know the truth."

Rhiannon replies, "I know I just don't know how to tell him. I guess I'm waiting for the right moment."

Traveler says, "Straight forward is usually best, and he owes you his life. He is fair man just ask him to be open minded."

Rhiannon nods and they continue their walk making occasional remarks. Rhiannon tries to see his face but all she sees is a black hood.

I wonder how he sees out of that thing.

They finally return to the Town Square and Traveler says, "I found Lady Rhiannon to be a person of great character and leadership heed her wisdom it will one day help usher in a new era of peace in great turmoil."

Okay no pressure on me now.

Rhiannon walks back to Laethwyn and he says, "Tell me what was it like please I have to know what happened."

The Traveler begins telling more tales enthralling the gathered crowd and then gives a slight nod to Rhiannon.

He just bought me my moment.

Rhiannon nods to traveler and smiles.

She says to Laethwyn, "Let's go for a walk."

They walk through the woods and Rhiannon says, "Laethwyn you know I love you right?"

He says, "Yes I do."

Rhiannon replies, "Good because it's time you know the truth about me please just keep an open mind."

She proceeds to tell him everything. When she is done Laethwyn says, "Thank you for telling me everything. I believe what you've told me. It took a large measure of trust on your part. A trust I will never take for granted your secret is safe with me...my love."

The two move closer together and kiss.

I don't care if I ever get my powers back. I think I'm finally home.

Byrd Man

12-01-2011, 03:30 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

IC: Vic Sage

"Naah, that's fine," I say into the phone. I'm in my car, waiting on Stan. Helena is on the other end of the phone, at the hospital. Her boss is in critical after some mysterious injury.

"It's fine. I'm meeting my old sergeant in a few minutes, I don't know how long we'll be....yeah....yeah, just a case. I should be done tonight and if you're still at the hospital, I'll swing by. Alright, see you soon. Bye."

I hang up as Stan parks his car by mine and gets out.

"Got the court order, Vic. Let's do this."

I follow behind Stan into Gotham Savings & Loans. He approaches a clerk and flashes a badge. "Sergeant Merkel, GCPD. I got a search and seizure warrant for a safety deposit box."

The clerk looks at the warrant and hands it back. "Hold on a moment, please."

It's a good thing I managed to catch this when I went through the contents of Driver's desk. There was a scrap of paper with a note on it. "Gotham Savings & Loan. Box 214, Account no. 04911819, PIN no. 2104"

Since Driver's dead, it was a breeze to get a warrant for the box. There's no telling what's in there, but it may be another clue.

"Gentleman," a man appears behind the counter. "May I see your warrant?"

Stan hands it over to the manager and he breezes through it. "Very well, follow me."

We follow the manager into the vault where the deposit boxes are. He walks over to box 214 and unlocks it, sliding the box out. Inside is a bound notebook and a burnt CD.

"Huh."

Stan pulls them out of the box and nods at the manager. "Thank you, sir."

We follow him out the bank and into the street. We're walking two our cars when his phone rings.

"Hello?...What?...Seriously? Goddammit! Okay, I'll be there."

He hangs up and hands me the notebook and CD.

"Two cops got killed in a botched raid. They're calling all hands on deck for Homicide. I gotta go. Let me know what you find."

"I will."

Merkel jumps into his car and peels off, hitting the lights and tearing down the street. I walk over to my car and get inside. I take the CD and slide it into the player.

"....Test, test, one, two three......My name is Detective Marcus Driver, badge number 09832. If you're listening to this, that means I'm dead or in prison. Before we start, all you need to know is that all of this, every bit of this mess, is the fault of Edward Nygma..."

******

IC: Jim Gordon

Going on twelve hours and and there's still no sign of Nygma. All the patrols are out there, searching for him. I'm holed up in my office, looking out at the skyline from my wheelchair. The lights of the city are beginning to come on as the sun sinks over the horizon. I've always loved this view, it's where I come to think.

There's no telling how many cases I've cracked by gazing out the window and thinking it over, first when I was a rookie detective on the fourth floor, then as a sergeant in my office in the Eastern. Then as a lieutenant and captain on the seventh floor. And now here, as commissioner.

This is where I've achieved some of my greatest victories, and where I've ruined countless lives. All in the name of the city, all in the name of keeping it safe. My old service revolver is in the desk drawer. With Nygma preparing to hand my head on platter to the FBI, maybe this is a fitting place to end it all? It wouldn't hurt. Just squeeze the trigger and I'm gone. I wheel over to the desk and open the drawer, I look down at the gun and reach for it.

"Jim," Sarah says from the doorway. I jump, startled and look at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, babe," I say as I close the desk drawer. "You just sneaked up on me."

"I found out exactly what that slip of paper is that was left on your desk. It's a safety deposit box from Gotham Savings and Loans. The account is in the name of Marcus Driver."

With the mention of Driver's name, everything clicks into place and my memory comes rushing back.

"Oh, my God, Sarah! You have to get to that box right now!"

"What is it, Jim?"

"No time, just go to the bank now."

"It's closed. They closed for the day."

"I don't care! Call the bank manager and get him back there to open it up. Call Judge Fayden and get a warrant, whatever it takes! I want what's inside the box before the night's over!"

Sarah nods and runs out. My heart is racing. I reach for the phone on my desk and dial a number.

"Hello?"

"Bullock, it's Gordon. Meet me in my office right now. I've got a plan."

I hang up the phone before he can answer. This is it. My chance to get out of this alive and without any bodies.

******

IC: Edward Nygma

I look around the windowless room, like an interrogation room. This time, I'm on the side the criminals sit at. I guess this is part of it all, the first step is admitting I'm a criminal.

On the table in front of me is a contract. It has all my wishes listed. In return for my testimony I will get: Full immunity from criminal prosecution, entrance into the Witness Relocation Program, and a monthly stipend as a FBI consultant for future cases.

In short: My ticket out of this ****ing hellhole.

Agent Spencer walks in and takes a seat across the table from me.

"Does everything look alright?"

"Yes, but two minor things: I want to relocate to somewhere far from here. Oregon or Arizona. Also, I want 24 hours to settle my debts and accounts. After we're done, I leave here and come back tomorrow night for good."

"The answer to your first question is something you'll have to take up with the Marshal Service. With your second question, that's a no."

I look straight ahead, past Spencer and into the two-way mirror behind her. I know they're watching, FBI agents and God knows who else.

"Then no testimony. I want 24 hours. Doesn't matter what happens to me, I'll keep my nose out of trouble and I'm all yours."

Spencer looks back at the glass and shrugs.

"Fine," Matthews, her boss, booms over the intercom in the ceiling of the room. "24 hours, Nygma. You screw us over and that's it. You'll be in jail right alongside Gordon."

I nod and give Matthews a semi-salute from behind the glass. I take the pen and sign the contract in my sprawling signature.

Spencer pulls out a digital recorder and starts it, she slides it to the middle of the table.

"Official FBI interview with Inspector Edward Nygma, GCPD. Present are FBI Special Agent Kate Spencer. Please, state your full name and rank..."

I take a deep breath and lean forward nervously. "Edward Frank Nygma, Detective Inspector and Chief of Detectives, Gotham City Police Department."

"Anytime you're ready. Start from the beginning, and tell it all. Anything you leave out voids the deal."

I take another deep breath and lick my lips. They're dry, very dry. I can feel the nervous pit in my stomach. After all this time, all the lies that have been swept under the rug, all the things I've had to do to survive. I've never told a soul...

Except now.

I stay silent for a few minutes, contemplating what to say and how to say it. Spencer fidgets and looks back at the glass when I finally start to talk.

"I guess...I guess this all started the night Black Mask was killed. One punch started it all..."

"...when I walked in, Umberto Maroni was dead. Selina had shot him. She was crying and afraid. I helped her get rid of his body, I chopped him up into teeny, tiny parts and dumped him in Slaughter Swamp..."

"...Michael Akins became Holiday because of what Gordon and his corrupt drug unit did to him. He was honest, he threatened to inform on them and they destroyed his life..."

"...I pulled strings and made a deal with Gordon: I would destroy Akins' testimony and sweep his real motive under the rug, he would promote me to Chief of Detectives. He bought my silence, I let him buy my silence. I blackmailed Vic Sage into keep quiet. He slugged me and quit...Can't say that I blame him..."

"...While everyone was busy at the wedding, Maroni turn tail and ran. He saw me coming for him...but he didn't expect me to be waiting for him in the office when he got there...he begged me for mercy...I shoved him out his office building and watched him go splat."

The part involving Dent comes next...Nobody knows about it. Nobody needs to know about it. I press on, avoiding that part.

"Bette Kane's murder haunted me, haunted Driver as well...Kate Kane and I started ****ing each other while Driver worked the case. He solved it and it killed him..."

"I shot Harold Kane four times in the head...and then Kate I shot four times in the chest, each bullet for the people they killed..."

"...Bane had me on the ground, close to killing me. I begged for mercy, I pleaded for it. I made a deal. I would give him Batman..."

"...Crowe turned and pointed his shotgun at me, nearly killed me. I killed him and his partner, Davies in return. That was twelve hours to go."

I look up at Spencer and see the repulsed looked on her face.

"And I think that brings you up to speed."

She stares, almost shocked and amazed.

"I thought...I thought all you were doing was ripping off drug dealers, stealing evidence and selling it. Not this!"

"Please," I sneer. "You got enough for Gordon and then some."

I stand up and look at the mirror.

"Full immunity for all that. And 24 hours starting now."

Spencer looks up at me and shakes her head as she turns off the recorder.

"You're sick, you're twisted. The fact that I gave scum like you full immunity will ruin me!"

I stare down at Spencer and shrug.

"I've done worse."

I breeze out of the interrogation room without a look back.

******

Out to my car, I pull out my keys and begin to unlock the door when footsteps come up from behind. I turn around just in time to see Bullock, a cattle prod in his hands. The prod strikes me in the ribs and I convulse all over before I drop to the ground. Bullock brings his foot down on my head and everything goes black.

The sack over my head is starting to chafe. I'm still a little woozy. A cattle prod to the gut will do that to you. I've lost track of time. Handcuffed and in the back of this van, I could be halfway to Opal City for all I know. The roads turn bumpy and stay that way for the last five minutes of the trip. The driver puts the car in park and yanks me out. I hear bugs and smell the stink of the mud and stagnant water.

Oh, God...I'm in Slaughter Swamp.

The man behind me puts his hands on my shoulders and drives me to my knees. He yanks the sack off and the headlights of a car in front of me are right in my face.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Eddie," a voice wheezes on the other side of the lights. I hear the squeak of something being pushed through the mud and the voice's owner comes into sight.

Jim Gordon in a wheelchair being pushed by Harvey Bullock.

"I had such high goddamn hopes for us....but you ruined it. What you're getting, you deserve every damn bit of."

Funny thing is that he's not wrong. Just a few hours ago, I sold him out to the FBI. He's going to jail and I get off scot-free.

Bullock walks up to me and punches me in the face with brass knuckles on. I hear something snap as I fall into the mud. The nose that Batman broke just broke again. The blood's pouring out my nose, one of my back molars is broken and bleeding. Bullock grabs me by my hair and snaps my head back up. Gordon is staring at me intently.

"You've got twelve hours, Nygma. Leave town, don't go to the FBI. If you do, I promise you I will burn you."

The pain in my face and mouth is almost unbearable, but still...I chuckle.

"Hahahahahaha...HAHAHA! You don't get it you dumb son of a *****! I've already went to the FBI, I've got full immunity. I gave them everything. You're the one who's burned!"

"Leave. Town." Gordon says. "Or I promise you that you will suffer."

Bullock kicks me in the stomach. I dry heave and vomit a mix of my last meal and blood. Looking back up, I spit and hit Gordon in the face with it.

"Do your worst, it doesn't matter. My deal is set and my testimony is signed and notarized. You're ****ing done and you can't do anything about it. While you were in a coma, I ****ed you wife. She said I was the best she ever had. I've fantasized about ****ing your daughter. While you were out, I nearly killed you. How does that feel?! HUH?!"

Bullock brings the brass knuckles back across my head and everything goes black.

I come to a few hours later, laying in the back seat of my car. My face is aching and throbbing all over. It hurts to even breathe. Laying on my lap is a .38. There's a note attached to it.

"Nygma, leave town now, or put this to good use."

I pick the gun up and open the cylinder. There's one bullet in it. The message is clear, but **** their message. This one bullet is meant for only one man.

Jim Gordon.

And they just gave me a gun that can't be traced back to me at all. Only a few more hours before I go into FBI custody. **** their case, my deal is done, so **** them. Tonight, Gordon dies by my hand.

******

IC: Jim Gordon

After the foray into Slaughter Swamp, Bullock brings me back to Gotham Central. Despite what he said, I think we put a good scare into him. In a little while, all his cards are gonna go up in smoke. He'll have no choice but to run.

"Jim," Sarah says from the doorway. I turn around to face her. I think about what Nygma said in the swamp, about what he did with her. That's a lie, it has to be. We can worry about that later, there's more pressing needs right now.

"What was in the box?" I urgently say.

"Jim...Jim, the box was empty."

My stomach drops and a cold pit begins to form in it. No...

"It can't be! It had to have something in it!"

"It was empty, Jim, empty...What was in it?"

"That was our ticket out of this," I moan. "Our one chance at survival. Nygma's already told the FBI at us...he's won."

I hang my head and stare at the floor.

"No..." I whisper out. "No, no, no, NO!!" I scream, my whispers turning into shouts. I break down, putting my head in my hands and crying.

"Jim," Sarah says reassuringly, touching my shoulder.

"No!" I scream out, shaking away her hand. "We're gonna spend the rest of our lives in prison, Barbara will go into foster care. All those criminals, all those people we put away, they're going to eat us alive Sarah!"

"What do we do?"

I look at the bottom drawer of my desk and then look back up at her.

"There's another way..."

******

IC: Vic Sage

Inside my apartment, I put Driver's notebook down next to the CD. I've listened to the CD twice now, and read through the notebook three times.

It's all there, everything anyone would need. My work on the Kane case, coupled with Driver's findings puts it all together. That case is down and then some.

But his other testimony, that's the end of it. I know Stan hired me to work the case, but this is something the GCPD can't be trusted with. I look over at the business card laying on the coffee table and pick it up. Pulling out my phone, I dial the number on the card.

"Hello?"

"Special Agent Spencer? This is Vic Sage. I have some information you might want."

Andy C.

12-02-2011, 12:51 AM

"Unbelievable," said the voice of Lex Luthor over the encrypted phone. "Absolutely unbelievable, the nerve you've got."

"Fortune favors the bold, my friend," said Vandal Savage smugly. "You wanted me to disrupt and distract the Justice League. They'll be far too busy trying to stop a super-powered world war to notice what you've got in store."

"It took two and a half years of work to install a Secretary General loyal to the Society," Luthor grumbled. "And you and your cohorts made off with seven hundred billion dollars?! Half of that was Society money!"

"It still is," Savage corrected him. "Besides, once Superman and his friends are dead and the human race is singing your praises, you'll see it as money well spent."

"Still, that stunt of yours cost us, and you're already causing me more trouble than your worth," Luthor warned. "Don't think there won't be consequences, Savage."

"Might I remind you, Lex," Savage said, "that I'm working with you, not for you. You may be the smartest man in the room, but you're hardly the first person who thought they could control me. i'm doing this because it furthers our goals, but don't think that I'm only interested in being a noise-maker for you and your new friend the robot from space."

There was a long pause before Luthor spoke again.

"We'll talk again soon," he said flatly before hanging up.

Vandal Savage put his phone away, as a flash of green light from Professor Ivo's teleporter transported the fellow members of the Legion of Doom to him.

"So," he said with a welcoming smile, "how was everyone's vacation?"

"Unfulfilling," said Ivo. "Still no sign of my prize creation. Once he is returned to me, though..."

"I had quite the entertaining time," said Killer Frost. "I caught up with some old friends.....who turned me in to the police in our last job. It was nice making sure they got what they had coming."

"I was hoping I could see the looks on the League's faces," the Cheetah grinned. "Especially my favorite prey..."

"Hrrrmmmm," mumbled Solomon Grundy absently.

"So what are we doing here, Savage?" asked the Atomic Skull. "Out of all the places to meet after taking more money than we'll ever need....why a swamp?"

"I agree; this is hardly a fitting place for superior beings such as us," said Maxie Zeus, a look of disgust on his face.

"Trust me, friends," said Savage, "first impressions are not always the most important. While you spent your shares of the money enjoying yourselves, I've been busy. Recruiting new members and reserves for the fight against the League. Acquiring resources to move anywhere we want. Most importantly, however, I've been constructing a base of operations, a fortress that can withstand any possible counterattack, and allow us to strike any time and any place we choose."

Savage pulled a small controller from his pocket, and pressed a button. The swamp rumbled and the water roiled, and out of the muck and filth rose an enormous structure, a sinister black dome that towered over them.

"Ladies, gentlemen....."

http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/327/3/f/dco_mmo_legion_of_doom_hq_clr_by_chuckdee-d4h34vc.jpg

"....welcome home."

Mr. Majestic

12-02-2011, 02:34 AM

Reflection of the scope gave the shooter away. This is good for me because now I have the upper hand. Firing the grappling hook at close ranger on the shooter’s chin will render him useless just enough for me to take out the others on the roof and then make my way inside to save the girl.

I grab two throwing disc from my utility belt as I stand in the darkest corner of the room along with the kidnappers. They are unaware of my presence. Getting inside the room was a bit easier than I thought it was going to be. I assume they must have thought that with the guys on the roof they won’t have to worry about someone sneaking in, a mistake they will soon regret. I’d broken bones on five men before I even got in this room. It started with the two gunmen on the roof. I felt myself crossing the line.

http://img811.imageshack.us/img811/5600/linql.jpg

I then throw the disc at the source of what little light that was in the room. As the disc takes out the light bulbs I watch as terror and shock takes a hold of them. But is there even a line to cross anymore? Does it even matter? They pull out their guns and that’s when I make my move, in this position I must be the aggressor. I analyze the situation and then act. Four targets in the room, three are armed. The fourth isn’t running. That’s a red flag.

http://img21.imageshack.us/img21/6876/76378388.jpg

The first move I make is I quickly make it to the first thug with the gun and before he can even realize what’s going on I quickly hit him with a straight right to his nose. Unknowingly he fires off his gun next to my face good thing it wasn’t in front of me. The gun fire warns and reveals to the guy to my left my position. I jump in mid air and deliver a jump kick to my first victim chest pushing off of him and sending him and myself across the room in different directions. Right as my made my move the second gunmen’s bullets barley missed me. Once my back hit the floor I quickly do a handspring back to my feet and reach in my utility belt once again but this time instead of a regular throwing disc I grab an explosive one.

While running towards the wall I can hear the bullets from the second gunmen just zipping pass me. Swiftly I fling the disc to the wall. I jump threw the air right after I had release the disc and right away as the disc hit the wall it exploded and I went threw the hole it creates. In the other room I make my way next to the opening. He charges the gap firing off his weapon letting bullets fly. He aims his hand threw the space and I immediately disarm him and judo flip him into the room with me. Right when his back slams against the ground I fallow up with a left punch to his face knocking him unconscious.

There are only two left now which makes my job a lot easier. I over hear them having a conversation.

“Deal with this fool.”

“You might want to leave boss.”

This is a good news bad news situation I been looking for the boss man for some time but it seems that he knows when to call it quits. He’s heading towards the exit which means the last guy is left with the girl.

“You might as well show yourself or the girl is toast.”

Threaten me is not a smart move and especially since he is alone but since he is alone there is no need for the shadows and I can’t risk her life. I enter the room and see the girl laying down on the floor right behind him. While looking at him my tactical sense kicks in. He is some kind of cyborg and his hand are synthetic filled with fuel. A guy who can release fire from his hands huh? No wonder why he was left to deal with me but no use he will fail.

“You’re dead, hero. What are you supposed to be anyways, a guardian? Get ready to burn.” He says as hands get set aflame.

He pulls his right band back and then swings it forward to strike me but with my rapid relaxes I stop his fist with my hand.

http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/6802/faceog.jpg

“Burn? I don’t think so. Get ready to bleed.”

“What?”

I head bunt him in his face smashing his glasses and his nose. He falls backward holds his face as I make my way to the young girl. I grab her in my arm and reach into my belt and drop leave a little girt.

“Since you like to play with fire how bout you play with theses.”

We jump out of the window as the room explodes and I shot my grappling hook to swing to safety.

http://img830.imageshack.us/img830/4733/123ouh.jpg

Supergirl

12-02-2011, 02:35 AM

A couple of weeks have passed, since the accident. The school was shocked. Five stars of the football team killed. The more neanderthal students were just upset at what it meant for the team. Thankfully, Chloe wasn't one. Things with Vic weren't really serious yet, but still hurt dearly. But Chloe's the best friend a girl could ask for, but still I keep my secret. Vic invited me out with him that night. I declined because I didn't want to deal with the throngs of girls pawning over him. If I'd have gone with them, I could have saved them.

As Linda I've thrown myself into my studies. As Supergirl? I've taken my aggressions out on criminals. It's a very relieving form of therapy. But right now I'm just sitting in a classroom listening to Professor Swan go on about economics. Good god this is boring. Doesn't help matters much that my desk is by the window. Some days I just want to skip and take to the skies. Then I remember that it's college and I pay for every minute I'm here.

"Sigh."

"What was that Miss Danvers?"

"Um, just interested in how risk aversion affects the risk heavy industries?"

"Well if you paid attention properly, I wouldn't have to explain it multiple times."

I keep my sigh internal this time... What a windbag.

Once the class is over I head back to my dorm. I plan on changing real quick and heading to the sky. What I don't expect is Chlo. She's supposed to be in class. She's not.

"How was econ?"

"God I hate Swan. He's a pompous, egotistical ass."

"Again?"

I sigh and drop onto my bed, as I start to tell her about my day and listen to hers. I'll just wait until later to patrol, I guess.
Turns out her class was cancelled. Her professor didn't show for her Introduction to Graphic Arts class. A Professor Tycho. She called him one of those flaky computer guys. We talked for a couple hours and she went to go get food, while I turned on the news. Great Rao. There are ROBOTS ATTACKING MIDTOWN. FREAKING ANIME ROBOTS! Just what I needed!

I quickly scribble a note telling Chlo that I was gonna go do some research at the public library, change into my costume and take off towards the robot attack.

The news footage didn't do it justice. These things are straight out of a Michael Bay crapfest!

I barrel into the nearest robot and only do enough to stagger it. Well that and turn it's attention to me. The punch takes me a bit off guard and sends me flying backward several meters before I right myself. Hmm. Stronger than they first appeared. I do a silent count. There are four of them. All slightly different, but same basic design. And all four have turned their attention to me. Good. Let's see what they can do.

Doesn't take long to find out some more of what they have, as one blasts me with a laser from it's palm. Doesn't really hurt, but it does peeve me off. That's another cape I'm going to have to replace.

"Okay. You done made me mad. It's go time."

I fly at the one that shot me, and grab the convenient piping on it's back. It's a bit heavy, but I haul it into the air. I can feel it struggle against me, and the other three launch themselves after me. Awesome. They can fly. At least that makes this part easier. I spin and throw the one I'm carrying as hard as I can to the east, over the ocean, then take off after it. I smile as the other three follow. About a half mile over the bay, the robot I threw rights himself and starts hurtling back towards me. I meet it at full momentum, and this time do significant damage. Like a hole in it's torso, damage. It drops, once more inanimate into the water below, whatever left of it's electric life shorting out as it does so. I don't have a lot of time to relax though, as the other three converge on me.

MST3K 4ever

12-02-2011, 11:05 AM

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6221/6332727232_86ae1eff7a.jpg

Oswald finishes ushering out the video crew from the lounge.

Once they have left he hands the certified check to his accountant and says, "Deposit this into the foundation. It's good P-R for both Diddy and myself."

They walk back to Oswald's office and he closes the door and hands him a large suitcase full of cash and says, "Take the jet to the Bahamas deposit the entire sum."

His accountant asks, "The auction went well sir?"

Oswald crosses to his Aviary area and replies, "Better than I hoped. The bidding for the left over items started at 10 million and ended at 35 million. A huge profit margin for me."

He begins feeding Titan and petting him. After that he walks over to his parrot Ellington and perches him on his shoulder and begins talking to him and Ellington squawks his approval. Oswald feeds him a couple of pistachios.

Oswald looks at his accountant and says, "On second thought. Take a couple of the cash wraps for yourself and enjoy the week at the Villa. Take your girlfriend with you have a good time. I'll call the villa and tell them you'll be there tonight. Just make sure you take care of the deposit in the next 24 hours.."

The accountant says, "I will sir. I will. and thank you Mr. Cobblepot. Thank you indeed."

Oswald nods and says, "You've earned some downtime my dear friend. Enjoy it besides..." He opens up the Gotham Globe and sees the latest on Bruce Wayne being in critical condition and says, "it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."

MST3K 4ever

12-02-2011, 01:15 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

Rhiannon sits in her room in the castle as she looks out over the land from her window lost in her thoughts.

As the wise sage Forrest Gump once said, 'Life is like a box of chocolates you never know what you're gonna get.' Well if that is true since I arrived here it's pretty much been a box of Godivas. The whole war thing not withstanding and the fact I've killed a lot of people in a civil war that has been going on for generations. Laethwyn has told me all about the war and its history and I still am struggling with reconciling myself to what has happened and what I'm doing. I've been wrestling with these issues since I arrived here 8 years ago.

Just then there is a knock at her door and Rhiannon says, "It's open. Come in."

Standing in the open door is an old man dressed in fine silk and wearing a cloak. He says, "My name is Paradeck I am Laethwyn's great grandfather and I wish to speak with you my Lady."

Rhiannon says, "Sure of course come on in."

He enters the room and closes the door and Rhiannon says, "Please have a seat. Can I have the servants get you anything?"

Paradeck says, "No thank you my lady I'm just looking to get to know woman who will be marrying my Great-Grandson in 3 days a little better besides what Laethwyn has told me and the stories from the combat field."

Rhiannon says, "What you see is pretty much what you get?"

Paradeck asks, "Tell me what of your audiences with The Traveler? He seems to have taken a great interest in you."

Rhiannon replies, "I tell him about where I came, what I'm doing here things of that nature. What was yours like?"

Paradeck replies, "He told me to trust in the one who wore a symbol like this one..." he shows her a ring with something that looks like her Atom Symbol "and that it would be a symbol to one day inspire others to follow and lead us to peace and prosperity. I had it grafted into our coat of arms many many years ago. I never have told anyone about my audience with the Traveler until now. I feel you can understand something like this."

Rhiannon bows her head and closes her eyes. She gathers herself and says, "More than you know Paradeck." She opens her dresser drawer and shows Paradeck her Atom costume.

He is visibly stunned and says, "You. You're the one the Traveler spoke of. The one who would fall from the sky and lead us one day."

Rhiannon puts the costume away and closes the drawer and says quietly, "With all of this talk about being the one I should've said my name was Neo or Anakin."

Paradeck says to her, "We've been waiting for you for years to arrive."

Rhiannon says, "That's great but why me? Where is this great warrior leader everyone is talking about? Because I'm sorry but I don't see her. I've got enough issues with my life. I'm not sure traveler has the right one."

Paradeck stands and says, "Oh I'm sure he has the right one. I see greatness in you Lady Rhiannon it is there. One day you too will see it as well. All in time."

He bows and says, "It was an honor to speak with you."

Rhiannon says, "Likewise."

Paradeck leaves and closes the door. Rhiannon turns and faces the window again.

Without turning around she says, "I wish I knew what everyone was seeing in me, so that I can see what they see."

Traveler says, "As Paradeck said all in time. One day you will dawn the colors of The Atom and with your sword you will do what you were destined to do."

Rhiannon says, "Is your real name Morpheus?"

Traveler says, "No it is not. I will be leaving soon and you will not see me again for a very long time. Your union with Laethwyn will be a most blessed one and I will take great joy in watching it in the coming years."

Rhiannon turns and asks, "But what about me being the chosen one and all that?"

Traveler replies, "That is a road only you can walk. It is time for you take that first real step in your union with Laethwyn. Know this though everything you've been through in your life from the moment you gained your powers until now has been leading up to this part of your life. Act with grace and strength and never forget what you have learned."

He steps towards Rhiannon and says, "Be a blessing to all you care for and who need you. To those who would oppose you destroy without hesitation. Above all else know that you are a hero in this realm and in your place of origin. You have every right to stand alongside the greatest of them all."

He touches her cheek and says, "Farewell."

The Traveler fades from sight and Rhiannon stands there for a moment. She crosses back to the window and looks out again.

My only regret right now. Mom is not here. Not only could I use her guidance, but my wedding is in 3 days and she loves to cry.

Byrd Man

12-02-2011, 03:49 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png

Previously

The sack over my head is starting to chafe. I'm still a little woozy. A cattle prod to the gut will do that to you. I've lost track of time. Handcuffed and in the back of this van, I could be halfway to Opal City for all I know. The roads turn bumpy and stay that way for the last five minutes of the trip. The driver puts the car in park and yanks me out. I hear bugs and smell the stink of the mud and stagnant water.

Oh, God...I'm in Slaughter Swamp.

The man behind me puts his hands on my shoulders and drives me to my knees. He yanks the sack off and the headlights of a car in front of me are right in my face.

"I'm so disappointed in you, Eddie," a voice wheezes on the other side of the lights. I hear the squeak of something being pushed through the mud and the voice's owner comes into sight.

Jim Gordon in a wheelchair being pushed by Harvey Bullock.

"I had such high goddamn hopes for us....but you ruined it. What you're getting, you deserve every damn bit of."

Funny thing is that he's not wrong. Just a few hours ago, I sold him out to the FBI. He's going to jail and I get off scot-free.

Bullock walks up to me and punches me in the face with brass knuckles on. I hear something snap as I fall into the mud. The nose that Batman broke just broke again. The blood's pouring out my nose, one of my back molars is broken and bleeding. Bullock grabs me by my hair and snaps my head back up. Gordon is staring at me intently.

"You've got twelve hours, Nygma. Leave town, don't go to the FBI. If you do, I promise you I will burn you."

The pain in my face and mouth is almost unbearable, but still...I chuckle.

"Hahahahahaha...HAHAHA! You don't get it you dumb son of a *****! I've already went to the FBI, I've got full immunity. I gave them everything. You're the one who's burned!"

"Leave. Town." Gordon says. "Or I promise you that you will suffer."

Bullock kicks me in the stomach. I dry heave and vomit a mix of my last meal and blood. Looking back up, I spit and hit Gordon in the face with it.

"Do your worst, it doesn't matter. My deal is set and my testimony is signed and notarized. You're ****ing done and you can't do anything about it. While you were in a coma, I ****ed you wife. She said I was the best she ever had. I've fantasized about ****ing your daughter. While you were out, I nearly killed you. How does that feel?! HUH?!"

Bullock brings the brass knuckles back across my head and everything goes black.

I come to a few hours later, laying in the back seat of my car. My face is aching and throbbing all over. It hurts to even breathe. Laying on my lap is a .38. There's a note attached to it.

"Nygma, leave town now, or put this to good use."

I pick the gun up and open the cylinder. There's one bullet in it. The message is clear, but **** their message. This one bullet is meant for only one man.

Jim Gordon.

And they just gave me a gun that can't be traced back to me at all. Only a few more hours before I go into FBI custody. **** their case, my deal is done, so **** them. Tonight, Gordon dies by my hand.

******

IC: Jim Gordon

After the foray into Slaughter Swamp, Bullock brings me back to Gotham Central. Despite what he said, I think we put a good scare into him. In a little while, all his cards are gonna go up in smoke. He'll have no choice but to run.

"Jim," Sarah says from the doorway. I turn around to face her. I think about what Nygma said in the swamp, about what he did with her. That's a lie, it has to be. We can worry about that later, there's more pressing needs right now.

"What was in the box?" I urgently say.

"Jim...Jim, the box was empty."

My stomach drops and a cold pit begins to form in it. No...

"It can't be! It had to have something in it!"

"It was empty, Jim, empty...What was in it?"

"That was our ticket out of this," I moan. "Our one chance at survival. Nygma's already told the FBI at us...he's won."

I hang my head and stare at the floor.

"No..." I whisper out. "No, no, no, NO!!" I scream, my whispers turning into shouts. I break down, putting my head in my hands and crying.

"Jim," Sarah says reassuringly, touching my shoulder.

"No!" I scream out, shaking away her hand. "We're gonna spend the rest of our lives in prison, Barbara will go into foster care. All those criminals, all those people we put away, they're going to eat us alive Sarah!"

"What do we do?"

I look at the bottom drawer of my desk and then look back up at her.

"There's another way..."

******

IC: Vic Sage

Inside my apartment, I put Driver's notebook down next to the CD. I've listened to the CD twice now, and read through the notebook three times.

It's all there, everything anyone would need. My work on the Kane case, coupled with Driver's findings puts it all together. That case is down and then some.

But his other testimony, that's the end of it. I know Stan hired me to work the case, but this is something the GCPD can't be trusted with. I look over at the business card laying on the coffee table and pick it up. Pulling out my phone, I dial the number on the card.

"Hello?"

"Special Agent Spencer? This is Vic Sage. I have some information you might want."

IC: Marcus Driver
Six Months Ago

"Our informant gave us a good tip, Maroni will be attending the wedding of his niece tonight. Maroni is expected the leave the country after this. Now, the plan of attack..."

Ngyma continues to drone on inside the briefing room and I tune him out. I have no idea what down between him and Gordon during the Holiday case, but whatever it was won Gordon over big time. We got the order two weeks ago to welcome him back into the fold. He's even getting a fancy promotion. Inspector or some ****. It'll be harder to make fun of him behind his back with that one. The way he said "Lew-tenant" in his ****ed up hillbilly accent was ripe for mockery.

Bullock pokes me in the ribs and motions to the door. Gordon is standing outside the room, looking at me. I stand up and walk to him.

"Sir?"

"Follow me, Marcus. Out to my car."

We head down to the parking garage and climb inside his car.

"What's all this about?"

He pulls out a cigarette and takes his time lighting it. Gordon takes a long drag off of it before he exhales.

"Starting to tonight, I want you to buddy up to Nygma. Get in close, learn what you can about him. Above all else, you watch him like a hawk."

"Why me? Why not Bullock?"

"Bullock is smart, but he can be too smart for his own good sometimes. I trust you and I know your loyal. Plus, I believe there's a little matter between you and Nygma that needs to be settled, right?"

I touch the bridge of my nose on instinct. It's healed now, but Nygma pistol whipped me so bad that it had to be set twice in order to heal properly.

"What do I have to do?"

"Here," Jim says, handing me a slip of paper. "This is a safety deposit box at the Gotham Savings and Loan, the account is in your name. You find anything tonight, you put your findings inside the box and leave this paper on my desk. I'll know we have something and I'll go see what it is."

"Yes, sir...and, Commissioner, if I may ask, why? I thought Nygma was welcomed back with open arms?"

"You don't need to know the specifics, Marcus, but remember that old proverb about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer..."

Twelve hours later, I'm laying underneath a table on the roof of the Gotham Ritz as all hell breaks loose. Mobsters and cops shoot it out while the bystanders panic and run. I peek out from underneath the tablecloth and see a green pant leg running by. Nygma.

I pull myself out from the table and watch as Nygma chases off after Maroni. A mobster across the room takes aim and Nygma with his pistol. Racking a load into my shotgun, I blow the criminal away and chase after Nygma. He follows Maroni, and now there's a woman following him. Dark haired with a piece in her hands, she looks oddly familiar.

I can't follow Nygma with her, so I run through the chaos and take the elevator, along with another panicked and frightened wedding goer. I hope I guessed right and Nygma is headed for the street. I run through the lobby of the Ritz and out into the street. Nygma's car is still here. I jump in mine and watch as Nygma gets into his car and waits. Maroni runs out and jumps into a sports car, speeding off. Nygma waits and goes the other way, hightailing out of there.

I start my car and follow after Nygma. He pulls in front of an office building and goes inside. A few minutes later, Maroni pulls up and goes inside. Ten minutes later, I hear it.

KRASH!

"AHHHHH!"

A body tumbles through the air and lands on the ground with a splat. Nygma's leaning out the window, looking down. I duck and try to avoid being seen as Nygma gets in and drives off. I wait and follow, slowing down to only look at the bloody body of Sal Maroni.

I pick up speed and follow Nygma. He heads out of the city to the suburbs. He pulls up to a house. I kill the lights to my car and coast to a stop halfway down the block. I look on in as Nygma gets out the car, a ski-mask on his face, and pulls out Molotov cocktails. He lights them and tosses them at the house, setting it ablaze before he drives off. I watch the house burn, stunned at what just happened.

Gordon wanted leverage he got it.

BZZZT!

"Hello?" I say into my phone.

"Marcus," Bullock says into the phone. "There's been a shooting."

"At the Ritz? Yeah, I know, I-"

"Not that, dumbass...some shot the Commish. He's on the way to Gotham General, head full of bullets."

Screams begin to come from the house. I hang up on Bullock and speed out of the area before anyone gets a good look at me. Jim got what he wanted, but what do I do with what I do?

I decide to follow his orders to the letter, writing up a report about last night's events and placing them inside the safety deposit box. A week later, I go the extra mile after I hear cops recovered DNA at the crime scene. Shard of glass had DNA on it, the Molotov cocktails were empty beer bottles. That night I dig through the trash in Nygma's office and find an empty soda can. The crime lab runs the results for me: Perfect match. I leave the slip of paper on his desk, informing him there's information in the box. If and when he wakes up, it's there for him.

******

IC: Jim Gordon

The door in my office is locked. Sarah sits down in a chair facing me. It's the only way out either one of us can see. In prison, we'd both bed dead within a few years. This way, we go out on our own terms.

"Here it is," she says, pulling her old service pistol from her purse. "The one they gave me straight out of the academy."

"Same here." I look towards the service revolver on my desk. I remember Sergeant Peters giving it to me on my first day on the beat. Every night I got home,I cleaned. Four years in patrol, I never fired it. Still haven't fired it.

"I love you, Sarah. You know that right?"

"Of course. I could tell you were falling for me two weeks into the job."

"I was a sergeant then," I say with a chuckle. "My hair was darker. Flass and I used to tear the East Side apart...we thought we were gonna change this city for the better...well, we changed it at least."

Sarah leans forward and kisses me, I close my eyes and breath in her intoxicating smell one more time.

"Alright," I say, fighting back tears. "Let's get on with it."

I hold my revolver up and point it at Sarah's head. She aims her pistol point blank at my face. I try to thumb back the hammer of the revolver, but my weak muscles can't do it.

"Here..."

She takes the gun from my hand and thumbs the hammer back before handing it back to me. My hand is shaking when I aim again.

"Jim...I love you...I don't know..."

"Ssssh...it's alright, honey. If you can't go through with it, I'll do it myself. What's one more body on my conscience, right?"

We place the barrel of our guns to each other's foreheads. I close my eyes and swallow hard.

"Count of three, we go...1...2..."

BZZZT!

Sarah's phone goes off and I nearly leap out of skin. I pull my gun away from her head.

"Ignore it."

"Answer it. Just see who it is."

With her free hand, Sarah pulls the phone out of her pocket.

"Hello?....What?....What?! No...we'll be there."

"What's wrong?"

"That was Bullock...you won't believe what just happened."
******

IC: Edward Nygma

Waiting in the alley beside the Gordon house, the revolver Gordon gave me in my hands. I called the hospital, he was checked out last night. Gotham Central is like a fortress, there's no way in hell I can get within shooting distance of him. Sooner or later, he'll come home. I've got eight more hours before I enter federal custody, plenty of time.

My plan is to break into his house and wait for him. It was good enough for Michael Akins, it's good enough for me. But before I start my home invasion, my phone starts ringing...Cursing under my breath, I check caller ID. Spencer.

"Hello?" I whisper.

"Nygma...where are you?"

She sounds cautious. Weighing her words carefully. Why?

"Wrapping up some business. I've got time. I'll be alright."

"Right...how long is that gonna take."

"I'll show up when it's time! Why do you care? What are you dragging your feet about?"

It clicks. She's stalling...they're tracing the call.

"What the **** have you done?!"

"Me? I'm not the one who firebombed the DA's house!"

All the breathe gets sucked out of me. They know...no, nobody knew.

"What are you talking about?"

"Vic Sage turned in some files Marcus Driver had stashed. He was a smarter cop than even you knew. He kept records on you, investigated the fire. He found your DNA at the scene. You lied to us, Nygma. The deal is off. We're charging you with it all."

"No...NOOOO!"

I slam my phone into the round and stomp on it, crushing it until it's in tiny parts. A car pulls up in the driveway and I stride towards it, palming the gun in my hand. When I turn the corner, Barbara Gordon is standing there, opening the front door. I stop short and look at her, she stares at me with a suspicious look. Suddenly, all my anger disappears.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I was looking for your dad."

"He's at work with my stepmom. Do I know you? You look familiar."

I'm the man who fantasized about you, stalked you, obsessed over you.

"Yeah...I was here last year, when that crazy guy tried to kill your dad."

"Nygma. Yeah, that's it. Sorry, he's not here. I can take a message if you want."

I walk towards her until we're standing face to face.

"Do....do you think I could ask a favor of you?"

"What?"

"Can I give you kiss? It's just that...I could use one."

"What? No! Mister Nygma...that's kinda weird."

"I'll be quick, I promise."

I hear a siren from somewhere off in the distance and chill races down my spine. They're coming for me, no doubt the FBI knows where I am.

"I'm sorry, Barbara. I'm sorry for what I've done to your family. It's all my fault. All I ever wanted was to love you."

Before she can respond, I'm running towards my car. The sires are getting closer. I take off down the street as the FBI cars come into view at the end of the block. I take a left and speed up. I can get away...I can make it to...

No. I'm as desperate as Maroni was at the end. I'm done. All that I have to look forward to is spending the rest of my life in prison. I pull over to the side of the road and pull out the revolver. One bullet in the cylinder. This is the best way to do it. I spin the cylinder and snap it shut, shoving the barrel into my mouth.

1 in 6 chance. 1 in 6 chances for someone to get the justice I robbed them of.

One chamber for Selina Kyle. Close my eyes and squeeze the trigger.

CLICK!

One chamber for Vic Sage.

CLICK!

One Chamber for Michael Akins.

CLICK!

One chamber for Bette Kane.

CLICK!

FBI cars pull up behind me. Agents with their guns out approach my car. **** them.

"NYGMA! DROP THE GODDAMN GUN, NOW!"

Tears running out of my face. No, be a man. Daddy would like it like that. Stop pissing my pants, stop playing those ****ing games! You goddamn riddler!

One chamber for...Gilda. Squeeze the trigger. In the end, Edward Nygma survi-

BLAM!

Byrd Man

12-02-2011, 10:18 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/batman9.png
Finale

Previously

IC: Marcus Driver
Six Months Ago

"Our informant gave us a good tip, Maroni will be attending the wedding of his niece tonight. Maroni is expected the leave the country after this. Now, the plan of attack..."

Ngyma continues to drone on inside the briefing room and I tune him out. I have no idea what down between him and Gordon during the Holiday case, but whatever it was won Gordon over big time. We got the order two weeks ago to welcome him back into the fold. He's even getting a fancy promotion. Inspector or some ****. It'll be harder to make fun of him behind his back with that one. The way he said "Lew-tenant" in his ****ed up hillbilly accent was ripe for mockery.

Bullock pokes me in the ribs and motions to the door. Gordon is standing outside the room, looking at me. I stand up and walk to him.

"Sir?"

"Follow me, Marcus. Out to my car."

We head down to the parking garage and climb inside his car.

"What's all this about?"

He pulls out a cigarette and takes his time lighting it. Gordon takes a long drag off of it before he exhales.

"Starting to tonight, I want you to buddy up to Nygma. Get in close, learn what you can about him. Above all else, you watch him like a hawk."

"Why me? Why not Bullock?"

"Bullock is smart, but he can be too smart for his own good sometimes. I trust you and I know your loyal. Plus, I believe there's a little matter between you and Nygma that needs to be settled, right?"

I touch the bridge of my nose on instinct. It's healed now, but Nygma pistol whipped me so bad that it had to be set twice in order to heal properly.

"What do I have to do?"

"Here," Jim says, handing me a slip of paper. "This is a safety deposit box at the Gotham Savings and Loan, the account is in your name. You find anything tonight, you put your findings inside the box and leave this paper on my desk. I'll know we have something and I'll go see what it is."

"Yes, sir...and, Commissioner, if I may ask, why? I thought Nygma was welcomed back with open arms?"

"You don't need to know the specifics, Marcus, but remember that old proverb about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer..."

Twelve hours later, I'm laying underneath a table on the roof of the Gotham Ritz as all hell breaks loose. Mobsters and cops shoot it out while the bystanders panic and run. I peek out from underneath the tablecloth and see a green pant leg running by. Nygma.

I pull myself out from the table and watch as Nygma chases off after Maroni. A mobster across the room takes aim and Nygma with his pistol. Racking a load into my shotgun, I blow the criminal away and chase after Nygma. He follows Maroni, and now there's a woman following him. Dark haired with a piece in her hands, she looks oddly familiar.

I can't follow Nygma with her, so I run through the chaos and take the elevator, along with another panicked and frightened wedding goer. I hope I guessed right and Nygma is headed for the street. I run through the lobby of the Ritz and out into the street. Nygma's car is still here. I jump in mine and watch as Nygma gets into his car and waits. Maroni runs out and jumps into a sports car, speeding off. Nygma waits and goes the other way, hightailing out of there.

I start my car and follow after Nygma. He pulls in front of an office building and goes inside. A few minutes later, Maroni pulls up and goes inside. Ten minutes later, I hear it.

KRASH!

"AHHHHH!"

A body tumbles through the air and lands on the ground with a splat. Nygma's leaning out the window, looking down. I duck and try to avoid being seen as Nygma gets in and drives off. I wait and follow, slowing down to only look at the bloody body of Sal Maroni.

I pick up speed and follow Nygma. He heads out of the city to the suburbs. He pulls up to a house. I kill the lights to my car and coast to a stop halfway down the block. I look on in as Nygma gets out the car, a ski-mask on his face, and pulls out Molotov cocktails. He lights them and tosses them at the house, setting it ablaze before he drives off. I watch the house burn, stunned at what just happened.

Gordon wanted leverage he got it.

BZZZT!

"Hello?" I say into my phone.

"Marcus," Bullock says into the phone. "There's been a shooting."

"At the Ritz? Yeah, I know, I-"

"Not that, dumbass...some shot the Commish. He's on the way to Gotham General, head full of bullets."

Screams begin to come from the house. I hang up on Bullock and speed out of the area before anyone gets a good look at me. Jim got what he wanted, but what do I do with what I do?

I decide to follow his orders to the letter, writing up a report about last night's events and placing them inside the safety deposit box. A week later, I go the extra mile after I hear cops recovered DNA at the crime scene. Shard of glass had DNA on it, the Molotov cocktails were empty beer bottles. That night I dig through the trash in Nygma's office and find an empty soda can. The crime lab runs the results for me: Perfect match. I leave the slip of paper on his desk, informing him there's information in the box. If and when he wakes up, it's there for him.

******

IC: Jim Gordon

The door in my office is locked. Sarah sits down in a chair facing me. It's the only way out either one of us can see. In prison, we'd both bed dead within a few years. This way, we go out on our own terms.

"Here it is," she says, pulling her old service pistol from her purse. "The one they gave me straight out of the academy."

"Same here." I look towards the service revolver on my desk. I remember Sergeant Peters giving it to me on my first day on the beat. Every night I got home,I cleaned. Four years in patrol, I never fired it. Still haven't fired it.

"I love you, Sarah. You know that right?"

"Of course. I could tell you were falling for me two weeks into the job."

"I was a sergeant then," I say with a chuckle. "My hair was darker. Flass and I used to tear the East Side apart...we thought we were gonna change this city for the better...well, we changed it at least."

Sarah leans forward and kisses me, I close my eyes and breath in her intoxicating smell one more time.

"Alright," I say, fighting back tears. "Let's get on with it."

I hold my revolver up and point it at Sarah's head. She aims her pistol point blank at my face. I try to thumb back the hammer of the revolver, but my weak muscles can't do it.

"Here..."

She takes the gun from my hand and thumbs the hammer back before handing it back to me. My hand is shaking when I aim again.

"Jim...I love you...I don't know..."

"Ssssh...it's alright, honey. If you can't go through with it, I'll do it myself. What's one more body on my conscience, right?"

We place the barrel of our guns to each other's foreheads. I close my eyes and swallow hard.

"Count of three, we go...1...2..."

BZZZT!

Sarah's phone goes off and I nearly leap out of skin. I pull my gun away from her head.

"Ignore it."

"Answer it. Just see who it is."

With her free hand, Sarah pulls the phone out of her pocket.

"Hello?....What?....What?! No...we'll be there."

"What's wrong?"

"That was Bullock...you won't believe what just happened."
******

IC: Edward Nygma

Waiting in the alley beside the Gordon house, the revolver Gordon gave me in my hands. I called the hospital, he was checked out last night. Gotham Central is like a fortress, there's no way in hell I can get within shooting distance of him. Sooner or later, he'll come home. I've got eight more hours before I enter federal custody, plenty of time.

My plan is to break into his house and wait for him. It was good enough for Michael Akins, it's good enough for me. But before I start my home invasion, my phone starts ringing...Cursing under my breath, I check caller ID. Spencer.

"Hello?" I whisper.

"Nygma...where are you?"

She sounds cautious. Weighing her words carefully. Why?

"Wrapping up some business. I've got time. I'll be alright."

"Right...how long is that gonna take."

"I'll show up when it's time! Why do you care? What are you dragging your feet about?"

It clicks. She's stalling...they're tracing the call.

"What the **** have you done?!"

"Me? I'm not the one who firebombed the DA's house!"

All the breathe gets sucked out of me. They know...no, nobody knew.

"What are you talking about?"

"Vic Sage turned in some files Marcus Driver had stashed. He was a smarter cop than even you knew. He kept records on you, investigated the fire. He found your DNA at the scene. You lied to us, Nygma. The deal is off. We're charging you with it all."

"No...NOOOO!"

I slam my phone into the round and stomp on it, crushing it until it's in tiny parts. A car pulls up in the driveway and I stride towards it, palming the gun in my hand. When I turn the corner, Barbara Gordon is standing there, opening the front door. I stop short and look at her, she stares at me with a suspicious look. Suddenly, all my anger disappears.

"I'm...I'm sorry. I was looking for your dad."

"He's at work with my stepmom. Do I know you? You look familiar."

I'm the man who fantasized about you, stalked you, obsessed over you.

"Yeah...I was here last year, when that crazy guy tried to kill your dad."

"Nygma. Yeah, that's it. Sorry, he's not here. I can take a message if you want."

I walk towards her until we're standing face to face.

"Do....do you think I could ask a favor of you?"

"What?"

"Can I give you kiss? It's just that...I could use one."

"What? No! Mister Nygma...that's kinda weird."

"I'll be quick, I promise."

I hear a siren from somewhere off in the distance and chill races down my spine. They're coming for me, no doubt the FBI knows where I am.

"I'm sorry, Barbara. I'm sorry for what I've done to your family. It's all my fault. All I ever wanted was to love you."

Before she can respond, I'm running towards my car. The sires are getting closer. I take off down the street as the FBI cars come into view at the end of the block. I take a left and speed up. I can get away...I can make it to...

No. I'm as desperate as Maroni was at the end. I'm done. All that I have to look forward to is spending the rest of my life in prison. I pull over to the side of the road and pull out the revolver. One bullet in the cylinder. This is the best way to do it. I spin the cylinder and snap it shut, shoving the barrel into my mouth.

1 in 6 chance. 1 in 6 chances for someone to get the justice I robbed them of.

One chamber for Selina Kyle. Close my eyes and squeeze the trigger.

CLICK!

One chamber for Vic Sage.

CLICK!

One Chamber for Michael Akins.

CLICK!

One chamber for Bette Kane.

CLICK!

FBI cars pull up behind me. Agents with their guns out approach my car. **** them.

"NYGMA! DROP THE GODDAMN GUN, NOW!"

Tears running out of my face. No, be a man. Daddy would like it like that. Stop pissing my pants, stop playing those ****ing games! You goddamn riddler!

One chamber for...Gilda. Squeeze the trigger. In the end, Edward Nygma survi-

BLAM!

IC: Vic Sage

Two Weeks Later
Virginia State Mental Institution
Kenbridge, VA

I sign all the forms and consent to following all the rules of the hospital before they lead me back to the observation room. Nothing but white walls and the smell of bleach and disinfectant.

"It's actually a medical miracle," the doctor who leads me back says. "We can't explain it."

We stop at a window and look in at the room where a dozen mental patients are scattered around the room, playing games or watching TV. Sitting in a chair, staring off into space is Edward Nygma, his eyes glassy and unfocused with a giant scar on his forehead. I heard it was bad, but I didn't know how bad.

"When he shot himself the bullet went through his head and exited through the top. In the process, he severed his prefrontal cortex. It was a one in a thousand chance...but he lobotomized himself."

"Is he still...uhh, making sense?"

"He has brief flights to lucidity, but they're few and far between. Most of his higher brain functions are gone."

Jesus Christ. Nygma prized his intellect above everything else. Now, it's all gone. He's just an empty shell, drooling on his shirt and ****ting in his pants for the rest of his life.

"Why here?' I ask. "Why not Arkham?"

"The FBI thought it was best to send him out of state, just in case he was attacked by an Arkham inmate who had a history with him. They chose us because we've handled a previous mental patient from the city. It's interesting really. He's become fast friends with Edward."

A skinny black man shuffles over to Nygma and sits down. It takes me a moment to recognize him, but when I do it takes my breath away. Michael Akins, Holiday himself. He's a hundred pounds lighter with a full head of gray hair.

"Michael was a former police officer as well. He suffered a mental breakdown after his son was killed and became a serial killer. He's a paranoid schizophrenic. Ever since he's been committed, he's been highly unstable. Everything is a vast conspiracy engineered by his former co-workers in Gotham. We have to keep him sedated to stop his delusions."

I stare at the two of them and shake my head.

"I've seen enough, Doctor. I'm ready to go."

"Uhh, before we leave, Mr. Sage, I wonder if there's a question you help us clear up."

"What is it?"

"During Edward's brief moments of lucidity, he mentions the names of two women: A Selina and a Barbara. Do either of those names ring a bell to you?"

"Faintly. But I can't remember where I heard them."

"Well, whoever they are, he seems to be fond of them. He's referred to them as his girls."

I follow the doctor out of the hospital and to my car. They hand me back my cellphone. There's a voice message on it.

"Sage, this is Kate Spencer. I just wanted to thank you again for you help. I just wish we could have done more with it. My boss seems content to lay the corruption at Nygma's doorstep, nevermind all the horrible stuff he told us about Gordon. Nygma's crimes tainted his testimony. He's the fall guy for this one. There's nothing we can do now and my boss doesn't care, he's just using it as a stepping stone to the governor's seat, it shows he's tough on crime and the people who police it. Meanwhile I'm packing up and headed to some godforsaken Indian reservation in South Dakota....sorry, I'm running on. Like I said, I just wanted to say thanks for all your work. I like to think it actually meant something. Bye."

I hang up and look back at the mental institution. So it's the end of it all. Nygma is trapped in a hell of his own making, Gordon keeps his job and stays out of jail, and the FBI shovels all the **** under the rug to keep it all happy.

I remember Nygma told me once that nothing stays buried forever, that all the skeletons in our closet eventually jump out and grab us. It's true for all of us, but especially true for him. He dealt in lies and riddles, but it was the riddle of Gotham City that did him in.

He took the city head on...and it chewed him up and spit him back out.

Batman

12-02-2011, 11:52 PM

http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/4810/catwomanredo.png

"I'll count to three. And if you haven't started talking, you'll join the rest of the blood on the walls."

I have to give this guy some credit. Even in my wildest dreams, I wouldn't have expected to see this much action tonight. Though the mysterious stranger immediately produces two glocks in order to - and this is me assuming - take me out in the event that any foolish attempt to attack is made, I can't help but curl my lips back into a smirk as we slowly pace eachother through Wayne's dining room hallway. I don't know why I've felt the need to behave like this, but my immediate reaction to danger isn't always the most commonplace. Someone points a gun at you, and common sense dictates to cower and relent. That's never been my way, even as far back as I can remember. At thirteen years old, I was hoping taxis on the freeway to head to school. Sixteen and I strapped myself to a bungie cord to take a dive over the Harbor, just to get myself arrested and see what it was like. It's the kind of girl I've always thought of myself as. The kind that couldn't seem to keep herself out of trouble.

Needless to say, tonight is no exception.

"Look, maybe you and I got off to a bad start. I'm really not out to do anything more destructive, if that's what you're thinking."

Dome-boy takes this as a cue to click back the saftey on both guns. Well, I can certainly tell when logic and reason have met their end.

"This is me caring."

What I don't understand is what he's doing here. Logistically speaking, I came here with a very simple mission: sneak my way down into Wayne's underground hideout and see what I could find to help me track down a well-hidden figure of the mob. But what was Red's agenda in coming here? Surely he can't be a friend of Wayne's, why go to such lengths to hide his identity for a social call? Unless he, like the rest of the city, heard about what happened and came looking for answers.

Damn. Now I suddenly know why he's acting so hostile. Genius probably thinks that I had something to do with all this.

"No need to resort to violence. We can work this out... can't we, handsome?"

He doesn't even stop to consider it.

"One,"

"Come on, really? I'd be willing to talk if you'd just put down the damn,"

"Two,"

Realizing the effort is futile, I leave logic out of it and ready my hand on the bullwhip. Better time this right, Selina. You still don't know how well this armor can hold up at close range. He could easily keep his promise.

"Alright, just remember... you asked for this."

"...Three."

I'm not completely sure of what happens first. Whether he pulls the trigger or I strike out with the whip. But the result is what's important, being in my favor as the leather of his jacket suddenly finds a large cut at it's shoulder and the ceiling is struck with a few bullets, providing the excellent distraction of a dust cloud as I immediately go to sprint my way out of the hall. I can already hear him collecting himself in the other room - need to gain cover against any further fire.

http://i781.photobucket.com/albums/yy98/DCMarvelRPG2/Catwoman/Bats6.png

Call it a hunch, but I may have soured his already less than favorable mood.

"One way or another, you're gonna pay for that! Hear me?!"

Sure, I'm going to pay for defending myself against the psychotic wielding a pair of semi-automatics. I can see how I was completely in the wrong there.

"I'm not playing any games tonight! Where the hell have you gone..."

Looking to make myself scarce, I press myself against the bottom half of the seat cushions and scan the room for any possible leverage to use against my new sparring partner. All the while he's kicking very expensive looking art stands over, shooting off a few rounds at random doors, and doing whatever he can to try and force me out of hiding. Yikes, what's this guy's problem? Did I just manage to cross his path on the wrong day?

Maybe there's more to it than that. Trouble at home?

Just as he manages to kick down the door to the living room study, my heart skips a quiet beat. Unless I'm grossly mistaken, that's very same room that I accidentally stumbled upon the entrance leading into Wayne's private quarters some months ago. And it's only been a few hours since whatever happened to him happened. What if the entrance was compromised in the struggle? I may not be someone of the most stellar ethics, but I definitely can't let Mr. Personality see that. He - Wayne, Batman, whatever he wants to call himself - would never want such a thing exposed.

And even if I'll never give it to him, there's one little fact that I'm looking over. He's risked his life to save mine at least twice in the past. What kind of future trainee would I be to never return the favor?

Stepping out of hiding, I ready the whip and hesitantly give a loud whistle, catching his attention and preventing him from treading any further ground in the place. I hope you appreciate the hell out of this, Wayne.

"Ready for round two, or are you just gonna stand there and stare?"

He doesn't hesitate. Lifting both guns with deadly aim, he dives forward and slides onto his knees, firing off as many rounds as he can manage. It's only by the heavily-furnished grace of God that I manage to avoid becoming a stain on the walls, dodging and weaving between furniture that'll likely cost an arm and a leg to ever replace. By the time I reach the end of the room, my only option is to kick over one of the metal meal carts and hope that it can stop bullets.

"Y'know, you can stop at any time!"

http://i781.photobucket.com/albums/yy98/DCMarvelRPG2/Ultimate%20DC/Red%20Hood/RPG-5.png

"Not interested!"

Okay, now I can admit it. Now I'm starting to get worried. I've got nowhere else to run and he still hasn't emptied his clip. I already tried logic with him and it failed. This guy isn't about rationale in the least, he seems to only be running on pure rage. And I'm nowhere near prepared to take him head-on, no matter what kind of skill level he's boasting behind that arsenal. Think, girl, think. Nothing you've got at your disposal can get you out of here alive. What would he do in a situation like this?

"Damn..."

Finally, the glocks go silent with a couple of clicks. This is my only chance, and I know exactly what he'd do in a situation like this. Kick some ass and make the bad guy beg for mercy. And without the crutch of bullets on Red's side, I can try to do exactly that. Just hope this ends better for me than the last fight.

"Come on!"

Leaping over the table, I finally have him right where I want him. With a running start, I tumble into a somersault over the couch and lash out with a hard heel kick into his chest. He stumbles, but not nearly enough. Making use of the whip, I finally thrust my elbow back and give it all that I've got. And somehow - I'm not even kidding - he manages to dodge it. Stupid, Selina. Didn't take his agility into account.

"Shouldn't have done that,"

It takes nothing more than a well-placed kick to my stomach to end the fight before it's even begun. My entire body goes flying back under the force, and I can feel my head hit the wall harder than anyone with a recent concussion might need to. By the time I've fallen onto the floor and crushed the broken glass, he's stepping over it on the path towards me, ready to do even more than I'd prepared myself to handle.

"Now I'm just going to have to do this the hard way."

You know, earlier tonight, when I told myself that I wasn't going to stay cooped up in that dingy apartment?

Maybe I should have done just that.

MST3K 4ever

12-03-2011, 12:29 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

Rhiannon is laying in bed as she starts to wake up. She sees Laethwyn standing over and smiling.

She says, "That's something I haven't seen in a while."

He asks, "What's that?"

Rhiannon replies, "You smiling. Ever since you became King 2 years ago it feels like you've become a completely different person."

Laethwyn says, "I know it's just I was suddenly catapulted into a role that I had been preparing for all my life and when I took over that role it was nothing like anyone could've imagined. All the advice and so forth from my Father seemed like it was in vain."

Rhiannon says sitting up, "That's not true. Considering you are the one who had to replace a beloved ruler and you're dealing with a war that seems to have no end in sight you've managed to at least hold the line. Sometimes that's the best any of us can hope for."

He replies, "Too true. Besides I haven't had much of a chance to smile, but this is truly cause for celebration."

Just then there is a knock at the door and Laethwyn says, "Enter!"

A midwife enters carrying two babies and says, "Your majesties may I present your son and your daughter."

Laethwyn takes one child and Rhiannon takes the other as the Midwife leaves.

Laethwyn keeps looking at the child he is holding and says, "All right Rhiannon it's time. What are we to name them?"

Rhiannon replies, "Edward for the boy and Alicia for the girl. They were my parents' names. Please it's the one connection I would have to where I came from."

Laethwyn says, "Very well I could accept those names. Edward & Alicia good names for them. I love you Rhiannon."

Rhiannon says, "I love you too. I...."

Just then there is a knock and Laethwyn says, "Enter." Trabor, his Secretary of State, and Roshawn, General of the Army, enter.

Trabor says, "Forgive the interruption your majesties, but there is much to be done our war has entered a critical operational phase."

Laethwyn says to Rhiannon, "I'm sorry but I..."

Rhiannon nods and says, "Go I'll be here."

Laethwyn says to Trabor, "Go get the midwife I do not wish my wife to be alone right now. I'll meet you both in the library."

Trabor nods and leaves. Roshawn and Rhiannon just stare at each other for a moment as he leaves.

Laethwyn says, "I know it's not what you want and I am sorry about this."

Rhiannon replies, "Uneasy is the head that wears the crown sometimes. You need to take care of this. Like I said I'm not going anywhere."

They kiss as the midwife enters and Laethwyn hands the baby to the Midwife and says, "Anything she needs see to it."

The Midwife bows as Laethwyn leaves.

Rhiannon takes a good look her two babies, and she smiles.

No more combat, no more secret missions, no more combat sparring. Just one adventure now; Motherhood.

Byrd Man

12-03-2011, 09:45 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

South Dakota

I speed through the flatlands of South Dakota in my pickup. 17 hours out of Austin and I'm almost at my destination. I pass by the welcoming sign, covered in trash and garbage.

http://i42.tinypic.com/24bkyg9.png

The Prairie Rose Indian Reservation, where the government sent the Sioux to die. First time I've stepped foot on any rez since I left Black Cherry twelve years ago. I told Belle a thousand times I don't do Indian work, especially skiptraces. Damn woman went ahead and told them I was coming. She said the money was worth it. Once a whore, always a whore.

I follow the road to the Prairie Rose Indian Casino. In the parking lot, a bunch of teenagers in the parking lot try their best to stare me and look tough. One look at my face and they scatter, pissing their pants and running home to their mommas.

I get a lot of long stares once I'm in the casino. Blackjack dealers eye me and flinch before they quickly go back to their business. Half naked drink girls dressed as squaws walk by and quickly look away, shuddering. A young boy with an eyepatch gapes at me as he pushes a mop bucket past me.

"Who the **** are you?" A big Indian with piercings in his nose and ears asks.

"Lookin' for Red Crow."

"What's your business, you ugly mother****er?"

I scowl, suck my teeth, and tilt my hat back.

"Nice earrings. Especially the ones on your right ear. When I was growin' up, I was told that only men of a certain...sexual persuasion, wore earrings in their right ear."

The big man starts to walk towards me, I ready myself for whatever he's about to...

"Shunka, cut this s*** out."

Shunka stops and turns around and looks at a large man with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, cigar in his hands.

"Our friend here is the bounty hunter."

"That's right. Name's Jonah Hex."

"I'm Chief Lincoln Red Crow, welcome to Prairie Rose."

"Thanks on the warm welcome."

"Shunka, search him for weapons. Then bring him back."

Shunka begins to pat my down, pulling my .45 from the small of my back, the switchblade from my pocket, the .38 on my left ankle, and the Bowie knife in my right boot.

"Looked like you had yourself a good time, Shunka."

"**** you, white boy."

I follow Red Crow and Shunka back to his office. Lots of Indian artifacts, newspaper articles about the Wounded Knee standoff, some more articles about something called Dog Soldiers. I sit down across the desk from Red Crow and wait while he lights up another cigar.

"Shunka, go find Bad Horse. I need to see him. "

Shunka nods and walks off, leaving me along with Red Crow.

"The lady from Central City tells me you're the best tracker in the country."

"Belle'll say anything that gets her that finder's fee. I'm not one for boastin', but I'll say this much: Pay me to do a job, and it gets done. Simple as that."

"Good. I like simple."

Red Crow hands me a photo copy of a driver's license. A California license with a picture of a blonde man. The name on it says Bartholomew Alouysius Lash. Hell of a name, and that's coming from a man who had his momma name him Hex before she abandoned him.

"That mother****er cheated me. Goddamn card counter cleaned me out and ran out of here with one of my best dancers. That was a week ago. I want you to bring both of them back and bring back the thirty grand he cheated me out of. You get half of whatever you recover."

A man once told me I had a talent when it came to reading people, that I could look into their soul and see what they were all about...but he was about three days into a meth binge and I had knocked out half of his teeth, so what the hell did he know?

My instincts aside, I can tell Red Crow is a real son of a *****. I think anyone who spends any amount of time with him could tell that.

"Alright. Showed me where he was staying while he was here, and who knew him the best."

Red Crow may be a piece of ****, but at least his money is good. That's all that counts.

Byrd Man

12-04-2011, 01:09 AM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

Keystone City Police Department

I come through the doors of the PD and see a slightly agitated look on his face.

"Allen! There you are! You were almost late!"

"Sorry, Captain Frye. Traffic was a mess."

That and I just left Hub City a minute ago. Not too bad, considering it's nearly 800 miles east of here.

"Well, come on, let's go."

I follow Frye down the hallway into the heart of the PD. We pass through the squadroom, where detectives and patrol officers mingle, and downstairs pass the morgue.

"Crime lab is right down here. You'll be under David Singh, he's the head of the department. It's two of you and two other techs."

"Just four? Central City has six techs and they're understaffed."

"Well, son, we ain't Central City. We're a smaller town, got a smaller budget. Only problem is we have almost the same amount of crime as Central City. So, the mayor and the city council are putting a priority on closing cases as fast as you can."

Frye opens the door into the crime lab and leads me into it. There are four desks and lab equipment on the far wall. A full laboratory is a room over.

"Singh, this is the new guy."

An Asian man with long hair and a goatee walks over.

"David Singh. You must be Bart Allen."

"That's me, sir."

"Just call me Singh."

"There you go," Frye grunts. "Already fast friends. Show him the ropes, Singh. He seems to know what he's doing, but you never know."

"I have just the first test. We got a home invasion/homicide on the northside. Detectives are waiting on the crime tech, and I got my other two folks out on calls. You're up, new guy."

"Now? Like, right now?"

"Sink or swim, son," Frye says, patting me on the back a little too rough. "Best of luck."

Keystone City, KS

I park the police van next to the sidewalk and get out. There's a patrolman on the stoop of the apartment, standing behind crime scene tape and fending off reporters.

"Let the detectives be," he barks out. "They'll issue a statement when the time comes."

I wade through the small crowd with my briefcase in hand. Elbowing to the front of the line, I show the officer my ID.

"Where's the picture?" He asks, tapping the ID.

"I'm new. Check with Captain Frye or Mister Singh."

"Naah. Not even these vultures could make a phony ID this good. If they did, it'd have a photo. Go in and see the detectives. Be careful because Chyre is in a mood."

I nod and make a note to watch out for whoever Chyre is. I bend down and cross under the tape and walk up the stoop inside the apartment.

"CSU!" I call out as soon as I'm in the front door.

"About ****ing time!" A voice says from down the hallway. A large, stony faced man turns the corner and looks at me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Uhh, Bart Allen...sir. I'm new."

"Jesus ****ing Christ. We got a double here and Singh sends us a ****ing rookie?! Oh my ****ing God. How old are you, kid?!"

"Twenty-two," I mumble out.

"Goddammit! I got stains on my carpet older than you! ****!"

My magnificent powers of deduction tell me that this is Chyre.

"You at least know what to do?"

"Take photos, dust for prints, collect trace evidence."

"There we go! They must of pulled you out of MIT! Goddamn rocket scientist we got here!"

"Fred," a latino man says as he walks down the hallway. "Leave the kid alone. He's already nervous as hell, you cussing him out won't help matters."

The detective holds his hand out. "Detective Jared Morillo. This piece of crap beside me is Detective Fred Chyre. We're Robbery/Homicide."

"Bart Allen, sir. CSU."

"Well, Bart Allen, welcome to the dark side of human nature. Get your camera and follow me."

I pop open the briefcase and look inside. There's a pack of latex gloves, a pack of cloth shoe covers, a camera, a fingerprint kit, tweezers, a small cordless vacuum, and plastic baggies. I grab a set of cloth covers and put them over my sneakers before I slide on a set of gloves and grab the camera, following Morillo and Chyre down the hall.

"Any experience in this, Bart?" Morillo asks.

"I did mark crime scenes in college, but that was it."

Chrye scoffs. "Well, this ain't school. We've had plenty of techs **** up on us and ruin cases. Don't put your name on that list."

"Fred, shut the hell up," Morillo barks. "Him and I will help you through it. Here we go."

I follow the two of them up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom. Laying on the bed, clad in boxers, is a dead man. There are nearly two dozen stab wounds on the man's chest.

"Get a shot from the entrance, then a close up shot of his chest, then one from the side."

I hold the camera up and snap the shot before gingerly walking into the room. Last night was hot, and the body is already starting to smell a bit funky. I've seen a few dead bodies as Flash, but nothing outside the recently deceased. Better get used to it, Barty boy. You'll look back and say this was one of the easier ones.

I get the shots off and follow the two detectives into the next room taking shots of another man in bed, naked except for underwear. Like the other victim, he has stab wounds, except only fewer. Laying on the floor beside the bed is a bloody butcher knife.

"Same as with the other victim." Morillo instructs. I snap off the shots and turn to the two detectives.

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"What if we do?" Chyre grunts. "You're just a lab rat. We put the pieces together."

Morillo rolls his eyes at Chyre and looks at me. "A home invasion last night. Somebody killed both of these men in their sleep and robbed them. Based on the number of wounds and the power behind the stabs, it's safe to say a man murdered them."

"Do you got all the shots you want?"

"Yeah. We need trace evidence and fingerprints now. The murder weapon"

"Alright."

I head down to the first floor and pass through the kitchen. I stop and catch something. There's a glass sitting on the edge of the counter, separate from all the other clean glasses. It was hot last night. Stabbing two men to death is hard work.

"Detectives?"

"You get lost, kid?" Chyre cracks as he comes down the stairs. I point towards the glass.

"It was what, in the 90's last night? I didn't see any air conditioner upstairs. It had to be around 100 degrees upstairs."

Chyre looks at the glass and it clicks.

"Holy ****! Get your fingerprint gear, kid."

I get the kit and dust down the glass. It comes back with a latent thumbprint of a man with a history of sex crimes and robbery. A friend of the victims identifies him. He was last seen with boy victims the night of the murder, they were leaving a nightclub and headed home. A day after the murder, Chyre and Morillo get him in an interrogation room and he folds under pressure. He confesses to both murders.

I watch it all go down from the other side of the two-way mirror. He's crying and Morillo is consoling him when Chyre leaves.

"Allen," he grunts, extending his hand to me. "Nice catch."

It's hard to contain the grin I feel like showing, but I do it as I shake his hands. "Thank you, sir."

"Call me Fred."

"I will, Fred."

"Allen!" I hear Singh calling from the squadroom. "Where the hell are you?! There was a B&E over at Saxon Jewelry. They need CSU there."

Chyre slaps me on the shoulder. "Get going...Oh, and Allen? You work another case that I'm on, and you **** up the evidence? I'll snap your goddamn neck."

I gulp and Chyre laughs. "I'm ****ing with you! Get the hell outta here!"

Batman

12-04-2011, 04:17 AM

http://i781.photobucket.com/albums/yy98/DCMarvelRPG2/Banners/Aquaman.png

"He has sealed our fates!"

The massive doors to the ancient Temple of Poseidon swung open from the outside parlor. Several robed priests of the Temple's order turned back in the direction of the sudden outburst, only to find their youngest and most brash member storming ahead to meet them. Kaldur'ahm had been with the church for as long as he could remember, raised among the religion's way of life until he adopted Poseidon's law as his own. Every action dictated by the Sea King was praised and championed highly by the youngest priest of the Temple, so his current outrage would soon become more than understandable. But that didn't help settle any of the priests' confusion, as they pulled back the hoods of their robes and looked down upon Kaldur'ahm with intrigue.

"Young Kaldur, what is the meaning of this? We were in the midst of conducting the ceremonial prayer for tonight's synagogue. Infact, where have you been?"

Kneeling before the altar to show some semblance of respect, if not simply out of habit, Kaldur'ahm stared back at the priests with troubled eyes - though noticeably more filled with hatred than anything.

"My apologies, father, but I bring with me the most terrible of news from the outlands. I do not know how to say it, but..."

"The outlands?!"

Kaldur's longtime mentor, the elder known as Hagen, stepped forward to greet his pupil.

"You know fully well that you are never to travel there, Kaldur. There is dangerous sorcery at work there, and it is forbidden to all who represent the temple! To what means did you break this promise?"

No longer willing to make eye contact, the now reserved Kaldur put aside his hatred for his next admission. He knew that it would be hard to admit, but it would ultimately be nothing in comparison to what news he sought to tell them.

"I was... searching. Trying to locate the Trident of Xebel."

The priests' eyes all collectively widened, unsure of what they had heard was indeed true. The legends spoke strongly of the Trident, but Xebel was a much fabled, cursed place that no Atlantean had journeyed to for centuries. At least, none that ever returned. To seek out it's Trident would be certain death, and Hagen knew of these terms. Yet even in the face of the elder priest's anger, they didn't seem to bother Kaldur.

"Have you any idea of what you..."

"Please, father. Let me finish with what I was about to say. It concerns not just you, not just the Temple, but Atlantis as a whole itself."

Without a hint of irony or hesitation, Kaldur stared at the group and bawled his fists together in outrage. "Poseidon, our God, is dead. Murdered and left astray in the outlands."

Silence fell upon the group. Some of the priests began to immediately confer with one another in hushed tones, angrily debating between eachother of whether this could possibly be true. Only Hagen challenged this claim upfront, stepping down to face his pupil directly.

"Surely you do not take us for fools. A God cannot be killed, Kaldur. Not in spirit, only in his mortal shell. And even then, not by anyone but his..."

"Most loyal of creations? Yes, I know of the proverbs. And yet I tell you it is true. Poseidon is dead, and..."

Kaldur's rage reached a boiling point as he venomously spit the next few words.

"And Aquaman killed him."

"What happened back there will not be spoken of again."

General G'thar, second-in-command of King Iqula's Royal Guard, addressed his troops with a firey determination that instantaneously reminded each and every man in attendance of why he was leading this charge. As they gathered themselves following an attack by a mystical assailant, a mysterious man who disappeared before their very eyes just as his initiative had reached it's strongest point, G'thar was determined to keep them focused on the task at hand by whatever means nessecary. It had been a great trial to contend with, but ultimately proved to be nothing compared to what they were about to face in The Hidden Valley.

"Not to the King, not amongst yourselves, and certainly not while we are still heading to our destination. I realize that it's an extreme request to ask of you, but we came here with a mission."

His eyes narrowed upon the group, who all sheepishly looked away at his gaze.

"To save the Princess. Until that task is accomplished, we will not distract ourselves. Am I being perfectly clear?"

They silently nodded to eachother, staring back at the point of origin that their assailant had appeared from, still blissfully unaware of what had truly prompted what happened. As G'thar mounted his steed, readying himself to depart, his attention was focused on one of the others as they rushed over to him.

"General, we were wrong! He's still alive, and he's coming this way!"

With an eyebrow arched, G'thar's attention turned back towards the distant waters as they all saw the visible streak of a vibrant orange and green coming towards them with considerable speed. In only a moment's time, the Royal Guard were treated to the prescence of their tagalong for the mission. Orin of Atlantis, better known to all as Aquaman. As he landed amongst the group, his face and skin considerably worn from what appeared to be a lengthened battle, G'thar's skepticism left him as he directed his steed towards the complacent warrior. Who was now wearing a newly captured trident across his back, noticably.

"Aquaman. We had thought you dead in the attack. Have you recovered?"

Unlike his earlier readiness to banter with the General's many comments rooted in distrust, Orin seemed lost in another world entirely as he stared back at G'thar, unable of what to say. Instead, he simply moved past and swam towards the edge of the rock ahead, overlooking the blackness of the nearby canyon.

"You did not answer my question. Have you recovered or not?"

Aquaman didn't turn back to face the General. He simply stared out at the intimidating darkness ahead, his thoughts now placed with not what he was doing, but what he had done. Or rather, what he had been forced to do. None of the Royal Guard had seen his terrible act, so he did not feel the need to enlighten them. He wasn't even sure of how they would be able to take it.

"The Hidden Valley,"

Looking over his shoulder at the General, Orin masked his grave thoughts with those of the kidnapped princess Tula. Her life was still on the line, and nothing else mattered more. The consequences of Poseidon's death would have to wait for another day. A day that he - and all of Atlantis, infact - would surely dread.

"We're close to it now. I can tell."

With a temptation to once again repeat himself, G'thar let it go and simply nodded.

"Then let us not waste anymore time. Onward! For Atlantis!"

As the others carried out the order and travelled on, Aquaman briefly stayed behind, mulling over the idea that he could carry on despite all that he had learned. A twisted and maddened mirror image of himself, still loose and still just as powerful as before. And as if that weren't enough to give him pause, he now carried the blood of a Sea God on his conscience.

Woefully, Orin loosened the trident attached to his back and looked upon it in his hands, wondering to himself if he should even be carrying it. It was once Poseidon's symbol. Now it was tainted. Just as he was, like always. But now the price was surely to be even higher on his head. The seas themselves would surely seek retribution for their fallen conqueror. It was too much to take in all at once.

What have I done?

Carnage27

12-04-2011, 06:15 PM

Boy Blue
~No Place Like Home~
Part 3

"Well, this is terrific, isn't it?" Cindy says as the Wizard's Shock Troopers round us up. The spy's contact within Oz has sold us out, and we're seemingly on our way to capture.

That is, we would be if I wasn't wearing the Witching Cloak.

"I'm giving you all one chance to let us go, or join us," I say calmly. "No one has to die here or now. Especially not people who are fighting for the wrong side."

The Munchkin chuckles, "My boy, the only ones that will be dying are you. And last time I checked, the wrong side was the losing side. From where I'm standing, that looks like you."

Without another word, I go through a quick successions of teleports, brandishing the Vorpal Sword and hacking and slashing through the shock troopers. Before they can react, the majority of their force lies dead on the ground, and my blade is at the Munchkin's throat, "You were saying?"

"How...how...how...?" he sputters and stutters. "I thought the Emperor had the sorcerers and magicians of the lands under his control."

"I'm neither," I sneer. "I'm an avenging warrior he to bring justice and freedom back to these lands. You go back to your wizard and tell him that."

The group scampers off, and Cindy smiles slyly, "The damned cloak is pretty useful. I hope you know if you somehow die I'm taking it."

"That's a sweet notion," I chuckle.

"I'm not really the sweet kind of girl," she purrs.

A rustling of leaves draws our attention to our side, ready for another attack. But instead, a warrior in blue and orange body paint emerges from the vegetation, "You oppose the Wizard, but you are not from Oz. We have been waiting for you. Follow."

"A Winkie," Bufkin says. "Warriors of the mountains."

"Sounds like who we need," I nod and follow.

MST3K 4ever

12-05-2011, 01:44 PM

http://farm7.static.flickr.com/6221/6332727232_86ae1eff7a.jpg

Oswald stands before a large crowd, with a bank of microphones at City Hall alongside the Mayor and various high-ranking members of The GCPD.

He says handing a check over to the Mayor, "It is with mixed blessings that I give to Mayor Thorne this check in the sum of 5 Million dollars for the Widows and Orphans fund for the Gotham City Police Department. I am grateful that I am able to do this , but I am also filled with great sadness that I am doing this during what is supposed to be a season of Goodwill towards one and all and Peace on Earth. I hope that this is able to ease the pain of all involved."

The crowd errupts into applause and Oswald waves saying, "No no please save it for those who give of themselves each and everyday safe-guarding our city."

He nods and says, "Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays."

Oswald leaves the stage and gets into his Limo. He receives a call on his L-Phone.

Don Toramisano calls to congratulate him on his donation and says, "The weapons you sold me are cherry! They're better than last year thank you my friend I can't wait to try them out."

Oswald says, "My friend as always a pleasure doing business with you as well."

Byrd Man

12-05-2011, 05:34 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Previously

South Dakota

I speed through the flatlands of South Dakota in my pickup. 17 hours out of Austin and I'm almost at my destination. I pass by the welcoming sign, covered in trash and garbage.

http://i42.tinypic.com/24bkyg9.png

The Prairie Rose Indian Reservation, where the government sent the Sioux to die. First time I've stepped foot on any rez since I left Black Cherry twelve years ago. I told Belle a thousand times I don't do Indian work, especially skiptraces. Damn woman went ahead and told them I was coming. She said the money was worth it. Once a whore, always a whore.

I follow the road to the Prairie Rose Indian Casino. In the parking lot, a bunch of teenagers in the parking lot try their best to stare me and look tough. One look at my face and they scatter, pissing their pants and running home to their mommas.

I get a lot of long stares once I'm in the casino. Blackjack dealers eye me and flinch before they quickly go back to their business. Half naked drink girls dressed as squaws walk by and quickly look away, shuddering. A young boy with an eyepatch gapes at me as he pushes a mop bucket past me.

"Who the **** are you?" A big Indian with piercings in his nose and ears asks.

"Lookin' for Red Crow."

"What's your business, you ugly mother****er?"

I scowl, suck my teeth, and tilt my hat back.

"Nice earrings. Especially the ones on your right ear. When I was growin' up, I was told that only men of a certain...sexual persuasion, wore earrings in their right ear."

The big man starts to walk towards me, I ready myself for whatever he's about to...

"Shunka, cut this s*** out."

Shunka stops and turns around and looks at a large man with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, cigar in his hands.

"Our friend here is the bounty hunter."

"That's right. Name's Jonah Hex."

"I'm Chief Lincoln Red Crow, welcome to Prairie Rose."

"Thanks on the warm welcome."

"Shunka, search him for weapons. Then bring him back."

Shunka begins to pat my down, pulling my .45 from the small of my back, the switchblade from my pocket, the .38 on my left ankle, and the Bowie knife in my right boot.

"Looked like you had yourself a good time, Shunka."

"**** you, white boy."

I follow Red Crow and Shunka back to his office. Lots of Indian artifacts, newspaper articles about the Wounded Knee standoff, some more articles about something called Dog Soldiers. I sit down across the desk from Red Crow and wait while he lights up another cigar.

"Shunka, go find Bad Horse. I need to see him. "

Shunka nods and walks off, leaving me along with Red Crow.

"The lady from Central City tells me you're the best tracker in the country."

"Belle'll say anything that gets her that finder's fee. I'm not one for boastin', but I'll say this much: Pay me to do a job, and it gets done. Simple as that."

"Good. I like simple."

Red Crow hands me a photo copy of a driver's license. A California license with a picture of a blonde man. The name on it says Bartholomew Alouysius Lash. Hell of a name, and that's coming from a man who had his momma name him Hex before she abandoned him.

"That mother****er cheated me. Goddamn card counter cleaned me out and ran out of here with one of my best dancers. That was a week ago. I want you to bring both of them back and bring back the thirty grand he cheated me out of. You get half of whatever you recover."

A man once told me I had a talent when it came to reading people, that I could look into their soul and see what they were all about...but he was about three days into a meth binge and I had knocked out half of his teeth, so what the hell did he know?

My instincts aside, I can tell Red Crow is a real son of a *****. I think anyone who spends any amount of time with him could tell that.

"Alright. Showed me where he was staying while he was here, and who knew him the best."

Red Crow may be a piece of ****, but at least his money is good. That's all that counts.

Crazy Horse Casino
Prairie Rose Indian Reservation
South Dakota

I spend the rest of the night around the casino, talking to employees about Lash and the girl he run off with. The dealers all say Lash got on their nerves, ran his mouth too damn much. The drink girls say he as a charmer, he'd tip them way too much and flirt, same story with the strippers. Bartender says he was always buying rounds for everyone. The drunks and freeloaders loved him. Nobody knew where he was from, or where he was going.

The girl is a bit different. Sarah Proud Feather, born and raised on the Rez, was about middle of the pack compared to the rest of the strippers, but that's all according to them. In the week Lash was here, he went back to his room with Proud Feather every night. Word was that Red Crow got wise to Lash's card counting and moved in to get him, only Lash and Proud Feather were long gone by the time they busted into his room.

All I got to go on is a California driver's license that was issued six years ago and may be fake. Like the best con men, Lash probably isn't even his real name. Lucky for me, Crazy Horse does more than just blackjack and poker. They also run sports betting.

It's their sports bookie that gives me a solid lead. Lash took a dive the other week when Oregon was upset against Southern Cal. He lost nearly ten grand on it. In his six day stay, of all the games he played, it was the only bet he lost.

Taking that idea, I find the nearest payphone and ring up Belle.

"Belle's Bail Bonds."

"You're a real *****, you know that? Told you time and again I don't work Indians."

"How about you stuff it up your ass, Jonah? Is the pay good, like I promised?"

"Yeah, for a skiptrace the only money ain't bad. But I don't like this Red Crow guy. I've heard stories."

"What kind of stories?"

"Just a few years back when I was in St. Paul, runnin' down this arsonist for a few counts of murder, and I was hearing about this street gang that was running meth through Minneapolis and St. Paul, their source was some Indian named Red Crow. It was all just whispers, though."

"I would tell you to be careful and take care of yourself, but it's you."

"Well, I didn't call just to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. I need you to run a search for me. Name of Bartholomew Lash, spelled just like you'd pronounce it. Look for any records of a man named that from Oregon or California."

"Yes, sir," Belle says sarcastically. If I were looking at her, she'd be giving me a little salute. "May take awhile."

"I'm spending the night here. I'm set up in room 105. Call me as soon as you got anything."

"Will do. Be safe and make sure you send me my damn finder's fee when you get done."

"Christ, woman. You used to be a whore, now you're a pimp."

"Not just any pimp, Jonah Hex, your pimp."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be sure to get you your money like a good little whore."
I chuckle and hang up. Despite the digs, Belle's the only person I actually trust in this world. We met in Central City when I was first starting out as a bounty hunter. She was a whore and I was after her s***bird pimp, guy got off on torturing and murdering his girls. Belle was next before I clotheslined the son of a ***** and broke his jaw in three places. She got off the street and started her own business as a bail bondsman. Guess I had an effect on her. I give her muscle on the tougher bounties, and she throws a bone my way every now and then.

I turn around and walk back inside the casino. Red Crow may be a certified ***hole, but it don't mean I can't blow off some steam while I wait to hear back from Belle.

*******

The shrill blast of the phone on my nightstand wakes me from my sleep. That phone is already loud, but with a hangover it's goddamn unbearable. I push the woman off of me and reach out from the bed and grab the phone.

"What?"

"Got a hit on your Lash, Jonah. Bartholomew A. Lash, born in Oregon, moved to California by himself when he was 18. He's been arrested a few times for gambling in Oregon and California, and he's been blacklisted in Vegas, Mississippi, and half the Indian casinos around the country.""Where's he from originally?"

"Aurora, Oregon. It's a long shot, Jonah. You sure that's where he'd run?"

"A man runs into trouble and there's only two places he'll go: Either the girl he's ****ing or the woman he came from. He's already got the girl with him, so he's headed back home."

"Good hunting, Jonah."

I hang up and get up, searching for my pants on the floor. The Indian woman in the bed stirs and rolls on her stomach. I look at the tattoos all over her naked back and ass. She was flirting with me so much last night, I figured Red Crow paid her in advance to show me a good time. She actually managed to halfway pretend my face didn't bother her, so Red Crow must have paid well. I pull my pants on and take my wallet out, putting a few hundred dollars on the nightstand.

Red Crow can rot in hell, I ain't his goddamn charity case. I put my shirt on before putting my .45's holster in the small of my back. After putting on my shirt, boots, and hat, I'm on my way out of the casino. The room's paid for in advance, so all I do is head for the parking lot and my truck. I start it up and pull out the parking lot, heading west towards Oregon.

The sooner I'm done with this job, the better I'll feel.

MST3K 4ever

12-05-2011, 07:37 PM

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Rhiannon sits quietly by the Lake in the forest where she first appeared in Molaidha.

I love coming here. This is one of the most peaceful places that I know of in the entire universe. Kind of ironic that I was here for a few minutes and then there was so much savage bloodshed around me, but in those few minutes the world was quiet, still and peaceful. No Waller flashbacks, No Legion of Doom, No war with Agamon, nothing it was just me in a forest. Life couldn't get any better. Granted though I love my husband and my two children, the people of Molaidha, and my servants are very nice to me. I believe that they would be even if I wasn't the Queen, but there are times when I just wish life was simpler for me.

One of her servants approaches and without even turning around she says, “Yes what is it?”"

The servant says, “Please forgive the intrusion my Queen but the King needs to speak with you at the Castle.”

Rhiannon stands up and replies to the servant, “It’s okay. Let’s go.”

They arrive back at the Castle and Rhiannon finds Laethwyn packing a bag and says, “Trabor is escorting me to a secret meeting with the Secretary of State for the Agamons. He says that they are ready to pursue a diplomatic solution, but their King is reluctant to do so publically for fear of appearing weak so this is how we have to do it. We will be negotiating for 1 week in the neutral land of Caldor, so myself and our negotiators will be safe.”

Rhiannon asks, “Why can’t Trabor do it?”

Laethwyn replies, “They asked for me. This is an opportunity that hasn’t happened since a year before you appeared. Rhiannon I have to take this chance for the sake of our people.”

Rhiannon says, “I don’t trust this at all.”

Laethwyn replies, “You and Roshawn finally agree on something.”

Rhiannon rolls her eyes and says, “Oh joy.”

Laethwyn approaches her and embraces her. He says, “It will be all-right I have faith. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rhiannon replies, “You better be. I ‘m not dealing with two 18 year olds alone! They’re both stubborn and think they know it all.”

Laethwyn smiles as there is a knock at the door. He says, “Enter.”

Edward enters and says, “Father I heard that you might be going to Caldor to negotiate for peace.”

Laethwyn says, “Trabor had no right to tell you, but yes I am. I want you to stay here with your mother and sister you are to watch over them.”

Edward replies, “Please Father I beg of you. I’ve been in a combat unit for almost 6 months and I have yet to see any battle please. All I’ve done is play it safe with guard duty and patrolling outlaying wastelands that have been deserted for decades. Please.”

Rhiannon says, “No and that’s final Edward. I know you want to go prove yourself I know what you can do, but this is very dangerous. “

She approaches Edward and says, “One day you will be King you need to start seeing the big picture in all of this. You’ve always had trouble seeing the big picture! All you see is here and now not the big picture!”

Edward says, “I do see the big picture mother! I am an adult I’ve earned my right to be my own man and leader as Prince just as Father did.”

Laethwyn slowly nods and says, “Yes I was about his age when I first start to hone my skills as a warrior.”

Rhiannon says, “I don’t think he’s ready yet, and with this situation being so dangerous. I can’t support this at all!”

Laethwyn says, “Pack your sword and your equipment and provisions for 2 days of travelling. We’re leaving soon.”

Rhiannon sets her jaw as Edward leaves and says, “You know full well this could be a trap, and now you’re letting our son fall into it with you as well.”

Laethwyn says, “I know it could be a trap, but he needs to see how things are. We can’t protect him forever Rhiannon. Besides there will be others there to protect him and at the first sign of trouble I will send him home.”

2 days later

Trabor returns wounded. Rhiannon knows what has happened and with a trembling voice she asks, “How, when?”

Trabor replies, “Just before we reached the outlands we we’re ambushed by a group of marauders.” Trabor reaches in a bag and pulls out the King’s Crown and the Prince’s Cloak. He hands them to her.

Rhiannon says to those with her, “Leave me and treat Trabor’s wounds.”

Rhiannon sits in the throne room for hours clutching the items upon her throne. Anyone who enters is threatened with beheading. Until Alicia enters visibly shaken she approaches Rhiannon and says, “I heard about it. When were you going to tell me?”

Rhiannon replies, “When I finally made sense of it myself. This is not something I was prepared for. I knew there was a chance of it but….”

Alicia comes closer and the two embrace and just wail for moments without end.

Finally Rhiannon says, “All-right we will have the rest of our lives to mourn there are things that have to be done now.”

She sends for Trabor and Rhiannon says, “I know that you’ve been through a difficult time the last two days, but there is something I need you to do.”

Trabor says, “Yes my Queen.”

Rhiannon replies, “Send forth word to Agamon it’s time to end this. I will sit at a Royal Table in the square 4 days from now and I will end this war.”

Trabor bows and says, “As you wish my Queen.”

Once he leaves she waits for about 10 minutes and says to Alicia, “Leave at Midnight and go to the hill country Roshawn and his troops will be there. Tell them the time for the caverns is in 3 days. Repeat it back to me.”

Alicia says, “The time for the caverns is in 3 days. Why are you doing this? All these years repeating messages that make no sense between you, father and him. You hate each other Mother what is behind it all?”

Rhiannon says, “One day it will all make sense. I promise by the end of the week you will understand. Go on Alicia and know I love you.”

Alicia leaves and Rhiannon approaches one of her servants in the hallway outside the Throne Room. Quietly she says, “I need a favor and I need it done in 3 days."

MST3K 4ever

12-06-2011, 01:12 PM

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Doris enters the Board Room and stands behind Mr. Luthor as always.

Luthor says, "Thank you all for assembling here on such short notice. There is some business that needs attending to that is long overdue!"

Luthor turns to Doris and says, "Miss Zuel for the last few years you have enjoyed the fruits of power without actually earning any of it, and you use certain luxuries that I own like my blue Ferrari constantly without even asking. You have bullied and intimidated LexCorp employees without earning any rights behind the power you wield. In case you forgot..."

He stands up and gets right in her face and yells, "I AM THE BOSS! NOT YOU!"

Lex begins pacing around the table as Doris just looks in a death stare at Lex.

Lex says, "We are a family here at LexCorp and you seek to run it as a dictator without having your name on the front-door. And this petty vendetta you have against Miss Lois Lane one of the finest journalists in the world is wasting time and resources."

Lex says, "I will not tolerate it any longer. Miss Zuel you are fired! I'll send you your belongings clear out! NOW!"

Doris with head held high leaves the board room and exits LexCorp. As she does so she makes sure that everyone sees her leave.

She walks around the block to a parking garage and enters the elevator. Doris presses the basement button and pulls out an access key. She turns it and the elevator descends.

She exits the elevator and proceeds down a dark-hallway. Doris opens a door and Lex is waiting on the other side.

He smiles and she smiles as well and Lex asks, "You think they bought it?"

Doris nods and says, "Oh yes sir Mr. Luthor. I made sure everyone saw me leave in a very public manner."

Lex says, "Excellent! I'm sorry for being so harsh but I had to make it convincing for everyone."

Doris says, "Understood sir. What do you need?"

Lex replies, "I am preparing to embark on a new business venture. One that LexCorp cannot be involved with in anyway at this time. I need someone to be my liaison and represent my interests until I am ready to go public with my involvement, and there is no one on this planet I trust more than you Miss Zuel."

Doris bows her head and Lex hands her 2 manila envelopes and says, "The first one is your contact information in the next few days a man named Vandal Savage...."

Doris raises an eyebrow slightly at the mention of his name and he says, "yes that one. He will contact you about our new venture. You are to represent me and follow his lead; for now until I arrive. The second envelope has a generous compensation package for your dismissal. It's an account set up through one of my shell companies off-shore."

Doris asks, "What of Lois Lane? She is being troublesome."

Lex replies with a smile, "I'll deal with her. You've laid down a good foundation. I'll handle it from here."

Doris nods and says, "Very well sir. It's an honor to serve you sir."

Lex says, "Thank you Miss Zuel you are a most valued resource to me and the society. Your willingness to serve and your loyalty to me are two things I do not take for granted. Oh by the way..."

Lex tosses her a set of keys and says, "Here" She catches them and Lex says with a smile. "I know you love that Blue Ferrari consider it a going away gift from me. I've changed everything over into your name it's yours."

Doris says smiles very broadly, "Thank you sir."

Lex says, "Until we meet again."

The two stop smiling and bow to one another as Doris leaves in her Blue Ferrari.

MST3K 4ever

12-06-2011, 10:30 PM

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Queen Rhiannon sits in the middle of a table at the heart of the town square with her sword in-front of her in Royal Blue Dress. People are lining the streets.

Standing behind her is Trabor who says, "You should not view this as a surrender my Queen, but as ensuring the peace for our people."

Rhiannon is stone-faced as she looks down the street waiting for the arrival of King Vorvon and his army.

One day ago I buried my husband. The only worse pain I've ever known that even comes close to that was hearing that my unborn daughter had died when I had a car accident. Now I've also lost another child as well. I can only hope and pray that Roshawn is keeping my daughter safe. I hope also that Trabor is right about this ensuring peace, because I don't think I can pay too much more than what I've already paid.

Just then there is a rumble through the land and Rhiannon knows that Vorvon and his troops are mere minutes away.

The people look upon the approaching army and their King with scorn and contempt. He arrives at the stage and looks at the crowd.

Vorvon says, "I know many of you hate me at this moment, but don't despair soon this will be over and you and your families and your property will be under my generous protection. If you choose not to reward me for my generous protection I am certain my army can persuade you."

Rhiannon says, "King Vorvon let's get on with this. You can do the royal decrees and all that crap some other time."

Vorvon replies, "Oh Queen Rhiannon don't take this so hard. I know you are still mourning the loss of your husband and son but know that their sacrifices are catalyst for the peace that my Kingdom shall soon enjoy."

Rhiannon stands and says, "Right. King Vorvon I present to you my sword. What I do now I do in the name of peace and justice."

Vorvon smiles as she picks up the sword by the blade . He extends his arms to accept the sword and Rhiannon flips the sword and runs the blade through his chest.

She says, "Burn you son of a *****!" Rhiannon then removes the sword form his chest. She swings the sword and cuts off King Vorvon's head. The people are stunned and the only sound is the sound of Vorvon's head bouncing off of the cobbled stone.

Rhiannon shrugs her shoulders and her dress falls away revealing an armored version of her Atom costume. She yells, "TO ARMS!!!!"

Suddenly hundreds of soldiers rise up from the rooftops on the main street and in second story windows armed with crossbows and swords at the ready. Vorvon's army has no idea what to do.

Rhiannon says, "We have you outgunned and outmaneuvered. Surrender now or join Vorvon. Your choice but be quick this is a day we've been waiting for. A very long time to say the least!"
The army drops their weapons and they all kneel with their hands behind their backs.

Trabor asks, "My queen what is this madness? You brought King Vorvon under the auspice of surrender and you attacked him!"

Rhiannon turns to Trabor and says, "Oh no I didn't. I said I would end the war I made NO mention of surrender at all!"

Trabor says, "You realize enemies will mobilze and make him a martyr. We do not have the resources or troops to sustain a long drawn out war! You've doomed us all! You FOOL!"

Rhiannon slaps Trabor and says, "Cool it!"

Just then Roshawn and the rest of the troops arrive with Alicia in the back and Rhiannon says, "Right on time old friend!"

Roshawn kneels and says, "My queen! The plan worked to perfection! Just as you and the King had planned!"

Rhiannon says, "Rise old friend. Good to see you again!"

Alicia approaches and Rhiannon embraces her and says, "My darling daughter I love you!"

Alicia embraces her as well and says, "I love you too mother. Would you care to explain all of this."

Rhiannon and Roshawn look at one another and Roshawn says, "You and the King were the ones who came up with this attack." Roshawn motions for his men to surround the kneeling army.

Rhiannon says, "For years your father and I began stockpiling resources and troop reserves in caverns throughout the kingdom and in allied territories. We wanted Vorvon to think he had us on the defensive for years. Vorvon would grow over-confident and his arrogance would guide him into our trap. The truth is we have a 7-1 advantage over them in terms of troops and resources. It's modification of something called the rope-a-dope and Roshawn's military instincts helped us out and so did you Alicia."

Alicia asks, "How did I help?"

Rhiannon replies, "All those absurd messages between him and us you repeated were part of a code. Something the three of us devised so that way if you ever got caught, Heaven Forbid, you could truly say you didn't know. Roshawn and I acted as though we hated one another to throw off any suspicions of our plan. Truth is I care very much for him and thank him for his service to our kingdom."

Roshwan bows and Alicia asks, "But Father and Edward dying?"

Rhiannon shakes her head and says, "Your father knew that this might result in his death, and he was willing to risk it. Edward, that was something none of us could've foresaw, and that will haunt me for the rest of my days. We could've extended this longer but when Edward died I knew it was time to strike."

Trabor approaches and asks, "Why was I never told of this plan?"

Rhiannon looks at him and nods at two troops standing by who slap him in irons.

She says, "Because the King, Rosahwn and I knew you would tell Vorvon."

Trabor is shocked and says, "What? Are you accusing me of treason? Are you insane?"

Rhiannon replies, "No. Over the years anything that has gone against us is because of your involvement and you were the one who set-up the King and Edward. I know all about your communications with your counterpart in Agamon, but when you came back from the assualt a few days ago I noticed something that closed the deal for me. For someone who was injured as badly as you claimed to be you didn't show many signs of shock. You lost a lot of blood and you witnessed so many people get slaughtered yet you showed no psychological defects amazing since you've never served in a combat unit ever, and yet you were able to escape the maruaders!"

Rhiannon motions again and two troops bring out two other men in irons.

She says, "We also caught your two associates who fingered you."

Trabor sneers and says, "So put me on trial. I don't care I will survive."

Rhiannon says, "Oh I'm sure you got an escape plan all worked out, but I wanted you to see something Trabor."

She turns him so he is facing the crowd and Rhiannon says, "The people who are in front they are the friends and family members of those men and women who died as a result of your acts of treason! Take a good look at them, because in a minute you're gonna get to know them real well!"

Trabor turns and says to Rhiannon, "You wouldn't dare!"

Rhiannon takes a step back and with a roundhouse kick knocks Trabor off the stage into the crowd.

She says, "He's all yours! Do with him as you wish!"

The crowd converges on him and proceeds to pummel Trabor and within a matter of seconds he is dead.

Rhiannon looks at the other two and says, "I suggest you two run now."

One of them says, "You said we'd be protected!"

Rhiannon replies, "I said I would protect you from prosecution. I made no such promises from an angry mob, and once they're done with him they're gonna want his associates."

The two begin to run and some of the mob pursue them.

She says to Roshawn, "My friend time to press the attack. When you return we'll have a great ceremony in your honor, but for now there's work to be done."

Roshawn bows and says, "It is my honor to serve my Queen." He turns to the crowd and yells, "Take the prisoners into the stockades and then meet here! The end of the war is at hand!"

He raises his sword and yells, "ALL HAIL QUEEN RHIANNON!"

Those still gathered yell, "HAIL QUEEN RHIANNON!"

Rhiannon bows her head slightly and looks to Alicia. They embrace again and Alica says, "I am so proud of you mother. I love you."

Two Weeks Later

Roshawn enters the Throne Room with the Crown of the New King of Agamon in one hand and the flag from their castle and says, "My queen we have done it Agamon has surrendered to us!"

Rhiannon closes her eyes and when she opens them she says to Roshawn, "Send forth word my friend. No pilliaging, looting and burning of the towns along the way. Those people are now under the protection of our royal seal now."

Roshawn bows and Rhiannon says, "And hurry back we have a celebration to begin!"

Rhiannon goes outside and walks over to the headstones of Laethwyn and Edward.

She kneels before them and says, "I couldn't have done it alone. On behalf of our people thank you. I love you both and I miss you so."

Alicia walks up behind her and puts her hand on Rhiannon's shoulder and says, "I know them well enough to know that they're so very proud of you mother as am I."

Rhiannon rises and embraces Alicia and says, "Thank you. Queen Alicia."

Alicia pulls away from Rhiannon and Rhiannon says, "It's time we'll make a formal announcement at the celebration in a few days. You'll be getting married to Balcar in a few months it's close enough. You're ready now my Queen."

Rhiannon bows slightly and walks back to the castle.

MST3K 4ever

12-07-2011, 12:40 PM

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Oswald and a few of his lawyers are sitting in the conference room under the Iceberg Lounge.

One of them says, "We've been reviewing everything we can get our hands on and the fact is Mr. Cobblepot there is no cracks in the Wayne Armor in terms of a hostile takeover."

Oswald shakes his head and says, "I refuse to believe that addle-minded him-bo is smart enough to cross the street by himself, much less come up with Iron-Clad Defenses for his company such as the ones that you all are telling me about."

He lights a cuban-cigar and walks around the table. Taking a long drag he says, "Who knows maybe behind the pigeon there is actually a hawk."

One of the lawyers asks, "That maybe it's a clever charade sir?"

Oswald nods and replies, "Perhaps under-estimate the enemy sort of thing, lure them in and then blind-side them. Interesting."

Oswald takes another drag and says, "But that still brings us back to square one. I just have a hard time with accepting this."

One his lawyers chimes in, "Face it though with the Wayne going downhill and just barely holding his own I suspect his stock is going to plummet even further. He maybe a figurehead at times but he can't..."

Oswald asks, "What did you say?"

The lawyer replies, "The stock is on the slide right now. Hasn't been this bad since his parents were murdered, and if he dies it'll be worthless. The name Wayne will be a nice nostalgic thing but without a Wayne occupying the top spot it doesn't mean a whole lot."

Oswald smiles and says, "Ladies and Gentlemen I think I'm onto something right now."

He turns and says, "Thank you all for coming I've got a couple of phone calls to make let's get back together in 48 hours same time, and I'll have lunch prepared for us again."

Everyone leaves the room and Oswald begins to feed his vulture Titan.

He says, "I do think I've got it. Instead of me trying to tear down the Great Wayne Wall, how about I have someone else do it for me?"

Oswald dials on his L-Phone and says, "Mayor Thorne this is Oswald. Let's say we get together this evening, say around 5ish here at the lounge I have an idea I wish to discuss with you."

Andy C.

12-07-2011, 01:40 PM

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My search of the United Nations building has not borne fruit; I have questioned every surviving person who was present during the Legion of Doom's attack, sometimes making use of the Lasso to assist their memory, but none have been able to tell me anything about where exactly Savage and his minions went. I believe the Atom may have found something, but she hasn't been heard from in a while.

We have to find the Legion and stop them, but if the trail has gone cold, then as horrible as it is, the only way we may be able to locate them is to wait until they resurface and attack again. The others have gone to recruit other members for the Justice League and to tend to their own cities' needs, and I have sent Donna to locate the other women who have our power, the aspects of the true Wonder Woman (Donna nicknamed them 'Amazons' after the warrior women of the Greek pantheon) in order to marshal more forces for the fight to come....as well as protect them from being hunted by the Legion. We still don't know how much Savage knows, or who else he may have working for him.

As I fly over the streets of New York, circling the UN building to clear my head of another fruitless day of questioning, I see a light flickering on a rooftop, intense enough to stand out among the millions of other lights in the city. It seems to be directed straight at me, blinking on and off in quick and slow pulses, and I quickly realize what it is.

Morse code.

"W-O-N-D-E-R W-O-M-A-N," the message says. "M-E-E-T A-T 83 S-U-L-L-I-V-A-N S-T-R-E-E-T H-O-U-S-E I-N 1 H-O-U-R. I-N-F-O O-N L-E-G-I-O-N. C-O-M-E A-L-O-N-E."

I frown at the message; it's suspicious at best, and almost definitely a trap. Still, the League has no other leads regarding the Legion's whereabouts or their plans, so even if it is a trap, I can likely pry the information I need out of whoever is behind it.

"Wonder Woman to League," I say into a wireless earpiece obtained from our headquarters in Happy Harbor, hoping that at least one other member is listening in. "I am investigating a possible lead regarding Savage in New York City. 83 Sullivan Street. If you do not hear back from me in....seventy minutes," I say, giving myself some time to deal with whatever it is I find, "then I would likely appreciate some backup. Over and out."

An hour later, I approach the Sullivan Street House. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary here: no open windows from where a sniper could be positioned, nothing strewn across the ground to indicate a hidden trip-wire, just an empty building with an empty alley behind it.

Leading into the alley, I see a set of footprints. Keeping my guard up, I follow them cautiously, pressing against the corner before checking that the alley is indeed as empty as it seems.

"Is anyone there?" I call out, to no response. I should leave right now; this is either a dead end or an ambush. But I cannot let the trail to the Legion go dead, either.

Following the footprints, I make my way into the alley. Soon I can hear someone breathing heavily, as if in excitement or anticipation. I can feel eyes upon me, leering at me hungrily. I raise my Gauntlets and prepare for whatever attack may be coming.

"Show yourself!" I demand, but still no answer beyond the heavy breathing.

Suddenly, the trail stops. The footprints end in one spot, as if the man were still standing th--

*FWASSHHH!*

An extraordinarily bright light blinds me for a moment, and I am knocked off my feet by some kind of concussive beam.

Rubbing my eyes, my sight returns to me, and I see a man in a garish black-and-white costume looking down on me, staring at me with wide, eager eyes.

"My my, you're even more beautiful in person," he says, his lips pulled back into a lecherous sneer. "I believe I am really going to enjoy you."

I spring from my kneeling position and attack with a spinning back-kick to his chest, but I pass right through him as if he were not even there. Then, to my side, he appears and fires another concussive blast that knocks me back.

Invisibility, holographic images, energy blasts.....whoever this man is, he seems to have mastery over light itself.

"I told you I had information on the Legion of Doom," he says, "so here's what I know...."

http://images.wikia.com/greenarrow/images/7/7c/156223-199990-dr-light_super.jpg

"My name is Arthur Light. Doctor Light to you. I was hired by the Legion to hunt and kill any member of the Justice League I wanted. Twenty-five billion dollars for your corpse. But, you know.....I don't think I'm going to kill you right away..."

Carnage27

12-07-2011, 08:29 PM

:hal:Sinestro:hal:

"How are your tests going, friend?" I ask the Lantern's drill instructor. "You know how much they worry me."

"The tests are going fine, Sinestro," he sighs. He was hoping not to talk about them. And his voice betrays that they aren't going on as well as he would like me to think. "Some of the trainees are taking to the impurities and mastering them quicker than I would have thought."

"They're not taking to them. The impurities are taking them, more like it," I laugh and lean back in my chair. "The Guardians took some of the weakest we have and put them in one of the most dangerous assignments they could. It's almost as if they want the War of Light to come to pass."

"Watch what you say, Sinestro," he says standing and walking towards the window. "The Guardians will not take insubordination. Especially at a time like this."

"Yes, I wouldn't want people talking behind my back if I was about to destroy the Corps either," I respond, leaving.

**********

"More...more...more...I must...have...MORE!" the slobbering beast screams, and with him the thousands of orange constructs cry out in unison.

http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y72/dstorres/Green_Lantern/Larfleeze-AgentOrange.jpg

Agent Orange fires off into the vacuum of space, ready to feed his hunger.

Byrd Man

12-07-2011, 11:37 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita
1 Hour Until Rendezvous

The train carrying the members of Task Force X came to a stop on the tracks. Snow covered the ground all around the train tracks. Inside the passenger car, Amanda Waller held court one final time.

"Final briefing, people, so listen up."

The Squad members gathered around her at the front of the car. Everyone was decked out in their gear, colorful costumes mixed with weapons.

"There are gonna be two teams assaulting the train convoy, three teams total. Flag, Vertigo, and Blockbuster are team one. You're in charge of frontal assault and starting he ambush. Bronze Tiger, Deadshot, and Nightshade are team two. You'll swing around and launch an assault from the back. Sarge, Calculator, and I are team three, the support team. We'll be here in a reserve capacity, jamming any communications the Russians try to send. Both assault teams will fight their way to the middle. Once there, Blockbuster will use that brute strength of his and tow the car carrying the alien fighter to our train. We'll attach it to our engine and then comes the hard part. Dismissed."

Flag stood up and slung the M4 in his hands over his shoulder.

"You heard the lady. Team one, you're on me. Team two, follow Tiger's lead. Let's move out."

Flag led the way out the car. He jumped down on the ground. His boots crunched against the snow. The rest of the followed him out of the car and down the tracks. There were dense clumps of trees on both sides of the train tracks. Flag looked around and got his bearings.

"This must be a small forest or something. Perfect place for an ambush. Ben, we'll set up here. Your team can hunker down in the trees about 400 yards away."

"You got it, Colonel."

"Keep an eye out for the convoy. Signal when it's in sight."

"Can do."

The three members of the second assault team disappeared into the trees while Flag and his two members crouched down around the shrubbery at the edge of the train tracks. He could see his breath curling out of his mouth as he breathed.

"Here's the plan," he addressed Vertigo and Blockbuster. "Once they're in range, we're gonna hit them with some guerilla tactics. I fire the first salvo and disappear into the woods. Vertigo steps up and disorients them while Blockbuster and I step back out and mow them down."

Forty minutes later, Flag watched from his vantage point as a train engine rolled to a stop. Behind it was a passenger car and a freight car was attached to the passenger car. Nearly a dozen soldiers jumped out of the passenger car and began to advance towards the Squad's train.

"Flag to Bronze Tiger, go when you hear the loud boom. Waller, are we go?"

"Yeah, all communications within a mile radius are being blocked. Good hunting, Flagman."

"Roger that."

Flag slid the grenade launcher attachment to the end of his M4 and aimed for the engine. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

FWOOM!

The grenade shot out of the barrel and twirled end over end in the air until it struck the engine.

BOOM!

Flames began to race along the outside of the engine. Many of the soldiers fell to the ground while others swung their rifles towards Flag. Before they could properly aim, Vertigo activated his eyepiece. The soldiers began to wobble and their knees buckled as the sensation of vertigo overcame them.

"Now, Blockbuster!"

The large criminal stepped out of the woods, a machine gun clamped in his hands. He took aim at the downed soldiers and opened fire along with Flag.

Bratatatatatatatatata!

Flag ordered a cease fire once all the soldiers were down. Further down the train, Flag could hear gunshots.

"Flag to Bronze Tiger, gimme a sit-rep."

"We're making progress. We could use some backup."

"We're on the way. Flag out."

Flag, Vertigo, and Blockbuster began to advance on the train. The engine was now completely engulfed in flames. They were almost to the passenger car when Waller chimed in.

"Heads up, Flag. Company's coming your way."

As soon as she said that, Flag could hear the distant thump of rotors growing louder. A Hind gunship appeared over the tree top and let loose with automatic fire.

"Everyone fall back!"

Flag rushed towards the treeline with Blockbuster and Vertigo running in his wake. Bullets whizzed over his head and tore up the branches in the woods, chunks of wood exploded all around him as he jumped and slid for cover behind a tree.

Flag cursed under his breath and watched the Hind take another pass over the area, firing more machine gun rounds into the woods. He took a deep breath and began to assess the situation. He needed a new plan, he needed to take out the Hind.

He needed to keep moving.

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita

The Hind gunship flew low for another pass, riddling the snowy forest with bullets. Flag, Blockbuster, and Vertigo ducked behind trees as the fire ripped through the woods.

"Flag to Waller, how the hell did that thing get the drop on us?"

"It was part of the escort. It trailed a few miles behind the train. I was hoping we could get in and out before it caught up, but I was wrong. Calculator jammed their signal, so they can't radio for backup. We're wasting time, Flag. Take it out!"

"Deadshot, please tell me you can get a shot in on this thing."

"Been trying," Lawton said into his mic. He was on the other side of the convoy, planted in the snow with a sniper rifle. "It's moving too damn fast, and the cockpit glass is tinted. I'll give you a 75% chance that I'll hit the pilot."

"What about Vertigo?" Bronze Tiger asked. He was a few feet behind Deadshot, taking cover behind a pine tree with more than a few bullet holes in it.

"He can spin the pilot out, but it's too unpredictable. The damn chopped could crash into us. I've got a better idea. Nightshade."

"Yes, Colonel?" She asked. She was hunkered down in undergrowth beside the train tracks.

"Create a portal. In the Hind's flight path. Is it within your range to make the portal open up a kilometer east of here?"

"I can do that. Let me concentrate..."

Nightshade put her hands together and focused on the air above the train tracks. The gunship had flown through that spot in the air at least a half dozen times since it showed up. The air began to ripple, tiny at first, but going larger. A few seconds later, a large rip in the fabric of space was hanging in the air. The Hind noticed it, but it was too late to avoid it. The gunship passed through the portal and disappeared. Off in the distance, they all the head loud crunch of metal hitting the frozen ground. A kilometer to the east of their location, the night sky lit up as a large fireball shot upwards.

"That takes care of the Hind," Flag announced, coming out of the woods. "Let's get moving. Blockbuster, you're up!"

Flag tossed a harness to the large man and pointed towards the freight car. A half hour later, Blockbuster was pushing the car to the Squad's train. Nightshade and Flag attached it to the passenger car, creating a three car train. While they worked on it, Deadshot and Bronze Tiger examined the box car. Turner slid the door opened and looked inside.

Inside was a sleek black aircraft, the black so dark that it seemed to absorb the light all around it. It was a perfect match for the sketches the Squad had been shown back at Belle Reve.

"Bronze Tiger to Waller, we've got a confirmation on the aircraft."

"Good. We all set up, Flag?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Get back in the passenger car. We're starting the train back up. Now comes the hard part...getting this son of a ***** out of Russia."

********

Moscow
16 Hours Later

Colonel Gorki was growing anxious. The top secret convoy they sent through Siberia had failed to report in for quite some time. His superiors in Spetsnaz and the GRU were growing anxious. Gorki had sent out a scout team to survey the area where they had lost contact with the convoy. Now, he sat inside the GRU command center with the little man they called Major Zastrow, a holdover from the Soviet days.

<"Colonel,"> Sergeant Pavel said. <"The scout team is just arriving. We are getting the video feed.">

On the screen, they watched as the special forces walked down the train tracks. There were dead bodies littered on and around the tracks, all of them wearing Russian uniforms. The train engine was on fire and toppled. Most importantly of all...their cargo was missing. Gorki cursed under his breath and picked up the phone.

<"I need Hinds, transport ships, and three units out Chita now!">

<"Why?"> Zastrow asked, lighting a cigarette. <"We both know I can bring in four people who can provide as much support and firepower and find you your alien craft.">

<"No," Gorki hissed. <"We will not use your washed up freaks. Their time as come and gone.">

Zastrow calmly flicked the ashes from his cigarette and pulled a piece of paper from his jacket. <"These are orders from the President, signed off on by the Prime Minister. They make it clear where me and my team stands.">

Gorki read over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read. Finally, the colonel tossed the paper into the air in disgust. <"Fine. Call your heroes. But know this: the death of them will be on your hands.">

Zastrow shrugged and walked out of the control room. He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed a number. <"Yes, it is me. We have the green light. Rally them all around you, Hammer The People's Heroes have one more shot to defend Mother Russia.">

MST3K 4ever

12-08-2011, 12:57 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

Rhiannon is gently pushed in a crude but effective wheelchair to the final resting spot of Roshawn, Laethwyn, and Edward by her lady in waiting.

She says in a ragged voice, "Thank you Melanea. I'll call you if I need you."

Melanea replies, "As you wish my Lady." She leaves and Rhiannon closes her eyes and then reopens them.

Rhiannon says, "Things have changed since I abdicated the throne. Alicia has done a truly marvelous job as queen, she has 3 beautiful children 2 boys 1 girl, and we have peace throughout the Kingdom. She has proven herself worthy of the throne on many occasions, but more importantly she is a good person. I'm very proud to call her my daughter."

Rhiannon takes another ragged breath and says, "I guess there's no easy way to say this, but it looks like I'll be joining you all very soon. I've got no regrets about my life except I would've liked to have talked with my mom one more time. That appears to be a conversation for another time...."

Rhiannon closes her eyes and her head drops back.

She sees a bright light and she feels a comfort and a peace from it as she says, "Time to go."

Rhiannon realizes she is not only walking to the light now, but she is wearing her Atom costume.

Okay this is kinda freaky.

Just then she hears a familiar voice say, "I told you that you would see me again sometime."

Atom turns and sees The Traveler standing behind her and she says, "So you did, now could you explain this?" pointing to her costume.

Traveler says, "When you shrank down you came in contact with elements that had a reaction to the White Dwarf Star matter in your bloodstream, and it overwhelmed you. Your body has processed the elements and dealt with them, so you have your powers back."

Atom asks, "Are you saying I imagined all of this? If this turns out to be a Dr.Destiny mind thing I'm gonna be real upset!"

Traveler says, "Take a look at your left hand."

Atom peals back her glove and sees the Royal Seal and her Wedding Mark that was burned into her hand on her wedding day.

She smiles and says, "So it really did happen. Everything journeying to Morlaidhan, my marriage it was all true, but how?"

Traveler replies, "Asks the woman who works with a Martian, an Amazon and one who can run from Canada to Mexico and back in a matter of seconds. There are billions of universes and alternate realities, and you crossed into one of them. Remember as Yoda says size matters not. You are the first Justice Leaguer who crossed into a microscopic one."

Atom asks, "I gotta know something. How do you know about the Justice League and me?"

Traveler chuckles and replies, "When Mac told you that if you ever had children that they'd have meta-human abilities as well; did you just assume that they'd be your abilities? And you thought I had problems seeing the Big Picture."

Atom's mouth slowly drops open as she realizes whom she has been talking to all these years.

She says in almost whisper, "Edward!"

Traveler removes his hood and black mask and says, "Hello mother."

Atom removes her mask and without even thinking embraces Edward and he returns the embrace.

She steps away and asks, "What exactly are your powers? Why didn't you tell me sooner? You've got a lot to explain to me! I don't care if you're the traveler or not I'm your mother!"

Edward replies, "I discovered I had these powers when I was a child. Father knew of them but we kept it secret for fear of how people would react. Alicia has powers as well, but she is frightened by them and ignores them. When we were assaulted by the marauders I fell off of a cliff and used my power to shift through time and space and other realms, but now I've done it so much now I can't stay in anyone place for too long."

Rhiannon says, "So that's why he wasn't afraid to take you with him. I guess you left before our wedding to avoid that whole two places at once paradox."

Edward says, "Not really. Truth is I didn't want to know the circumstances I was conceived under that could lead to some very uncomfortable issues."

Rhiannon nods and says, "Yeah I can understand that. So it's my time to crossover and see your father, your grandfather, Roshawn, and...."

Edward bows his head and Rhiannon stops and says, "It's not my time is it."

Edward nods and says, "Someday it will be mother, but for now there is still much for you to do in your own time. The experience you've had in Morlaidhan will cause you to grow not only as person but as a Justice Leaguer. You have lived an entire lifetime you're now able to see things from a new point of view."

Rhiannon realizes Edward is right and smiles. She places her mask back on and asks, "So how much has changed since I've been gone?"

Edward replies, "In your time you've been gone only a day and a half."

Atom is stunned and Edward says, "Time moves differently in different realities mother you'll learn that at some point. Now there are two Mother's day gifts I wish to give you if it it's all-right..." he looks upward and says, "Thank you."

Edward moves his hand as though he were pushing aside a curtain and Atom sees a paradise like she has never known.

Atom asks, "Is this Heaven?"

Edward replies, "Yes it is. Well what your people call it there are other names. but look over there by the waterfall. Look at the young lady."

Atom stares for a moment at the 8 year old girl and she realizes who she is seeing when she says, "Barbara Jean. She was killed in the car accident before she was born. Edward she's beautiful. Thank you."

Edward closes the curtain and says, "Now your next gift you'll receive when you get back."

Atom says, "I love you son." And she immediately embraces Edward knowing it'll be the last time for a while.

Edward embraces her back and says, "I love you too..mom."

Atom says, "That's the first time you ever called me mom. I'll never forget it."

Edward steps away and says, "Go now it's time."

He fades away and The Atom closes her eyes. She concentrates with all her might and grows at rapid speed. When she opens them again she discovers she is back at the Hall of Justice.

Atom floats around looking at everything. She then notices a folder on her bed.

Atom looks around and sees no one else in the room and transforms back into Rhiannon Palmer.

She says, "Feels like it's been a lifetime since I've done that."

Rhiannon then notices that the marks on her hand have grown with her and they're noticeable.

She says, "I'm buying a glove to cover that up. I'm not ready to tell anyone about this one!"

Rhiannon opens the folder and sees a photo of her family in Morlaidhan by her favorite place.

Rhiannon bows her head and says, "Thank you son." She goes to the Justice League main computer and scans the picture in and sends it to her e-mail. The picture suddenly disappears from the scanner and she hears a quiet voice say, "You're welcome mom."

Rhiannon transforms back into The Atom and contacts J'onn about her investigation at the U-N, but says nothing about her time away.

The Atom then rides the internet connection back to her apartment.

She sees that there is an urgent message from Pete Ross.

No rest for the weary...

Bounce

12-08-2011, 09:04 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
Benedict Arnold Elementary School
Metropolis, MA

"What do you have today?"

Part of the education experience was an unofficial course which every kid dabbled in throughout their formative years which could best be likened to an Introduction to the Black Market. Unlike traditional courses of education, this one had no instructor and most often took place in the school cafeteria. "Bologna Lunchable," the young Kryptonian reported, despite not having yet opened his Ben 10 lunch box.

That was another part of the daily game. "What do I have?" Adam Grant asked, pushing his own Star Wars lunch box closer to the Superboy.

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple, and a Capri Sun," Lor-Zod answered with a sigh. Pointing at the plain, brown paper bag of another student the boy added, "Tommy Jenkins has the best. He's got pizza." Having been raised in the ethereal dimension of the Phantom Zone, Lor actually had no idea just what his parents liked to eat... but he had every idea that bologna Lunchables probably weren't an appropriate food for a warrior's son.

"Oh," Adam chirped, with a disappointed gaze at his own lunch. Perking up slightly, the flaxen-haired youth opined, "Hey! Its sloppy joe day. We could buy school lunch! How much money do you have?"

"Uh, two of those large silver things and a penny," Lor answered, fumbling through his pockets. "Wait, its not a penny... just an old gum wrapper."

"Oh," Adam answered, deflated. "All I have is a dollar."

The two boys each sighed as they rested with their heads in their hands and looked out across their lunch boxes at the kid happily munching away on his pizza.

"Wanna trade?"

Lor pushed his lunch box over to Adam, the pair swapping the disappointed meals that had been prepared for them. "Seriously, you saved Texas and all you got for it was a bologna Lunchable? Not even a Happy Meal?" Adam commented, as he began to open and assemble the Lunchable.

Without answering, Lor popped open the Star Wars lunch box and took out the juice box.

"Have you made up your Christmas list yet?"

The question made the Kryptonian pause. It wasn't the first time that he'd heard mention of this term. "What's Christmas?"

"What's Christmas!?" Adam all-but-screamed, a look of horror crossing his young features as though suddenly he viewed Superboy as a heretic of the worst sort. "Seriously, its, like, only the best holiday EVER!"

Lor planted the straw down into the Capri Sun pouch and took a sip as he contemplated how his friend could answer a question without ever actually answering the question. "But what is Christmas?" the alien child demanded quietly.

"Christmas is about how Santa died for our gifts, and rose from the dead, and... moved to the North Pole. And..." Adam answered, his enthusiasm sparking the boy to gesture wildly as he talked, sending bits of cracker and cheese flying across the cafeteria. "And because of that, every year Santa comes down to forgive us our sins and give us eternal presents!"

Lor-Zod took a sip of his juice. Blinked. And simply asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Adam answered with an exaggerated nod and a large grin plastered across his face.

Lor just blinked a second time, set his juice back on the table and, looking his friend in the eye, said, "Humans are really, really strange."

The other boy got the same look on his face as he usually did before he either punched Lor in the arm or kicked him in the shin, both of which typically hurt Adam a lot more than it did the Superboy. "Well what do Kryptonians celebra--" Adam began to retort hotly.

And that was when something blew up.

Even with his multi-dimensional senses and faster reaction time, it would have been hard for Lor-Zod to have described the exact sequence of events. There was an explosion, the lights went out, the fire extinguishers overhead suddenly dumped water on the cafeteria, and there were voices of a hundred children crying out in terror simultaneously. Or maybe the screaming came before the water began showering down. It was hard to tell.

When you had super-hearing, the screaming part of the whole ordeal was what really, really sucked.

Peering beyond the walls of the cafeteria, the boy hovered a foot above the table. And, as he turned his head, he saw the school in flames. The classroom where he and Adam attended classes was now a gaping hole in the side of the building.

"Superboy."

Above the droning cries of the other children, the young Kryptonian heard his name spoken somewhere outside. The sound of a second explosion drawing his attention toward the school gymnasium.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!"

The small soldier from Zod's army was taken aback at the sight of a woman dressed in white, whose body was like living fire. Her energies blasting the gymnasium into ashes as embers rained down over mobs of terrified children.

A teacher lay on the floor of the gym, the flaming villain drifting closer as energies began to swirl from the woman's fingertips.

Rocketing out of the cafeteria, the boy sent drywall and masonry in all directions as he literally exploded out through the roof. Moving at speeds that only the Flash could have appreciated, the child ripped free a section of metal duct work as he arced through the air to interject himself between the fiery creature and the fallen teacher.

https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-PKr6cGg1mL0/TuFmE1x9CjI/AAAAAAAAAHg/IaoQ8IRHnag/s502/sb_pyra.png

To his surprise, the force of the blast actually pushed the Superboy back. The metallic shield began to take on a glow as the fire was deflected, its intense heat becoming a mild irritation for the Kryptonian as his young mind worked to try and comprehend everything happening around him.

There were teachers hurt.

Children with burns, or terrified, or both.

Even before he could have stopped himself, Lor-Zod's brown eyes glanced over at his right wrist. The arm where he ordinarily wore the watch that Superman had given him. The watch that contained a signal on a hypersonic frequency that would summon Kal-El.

Except he wasn't wearing the watch.

Adam had asked to borrow it when he'd heard that Superman had given it to him.

This... might be a problem.

Byrd Man

12-08-2011, 10:36 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Previously

Crazy Horse Casino
Prairie Rose Indian Reservation
South Dakota

I spend the rest of the night around the casino, talking to employees about Lash and the girl he run off with. The dealers all say Lash got on their nerves, ran his mouth too damn much. The drink girls say he as a charmer, he'd tip them way too much and flirt, same story with the strippers. Bartender says he was always buying rounds for everyone. The drunks and freeloaders loved him. Nobody knew where he was from, or where he was going.

The girl is a bit different. Sarah Proud Feather, born and raised on the Rez, was about middle of the pack compared to the rest of the strippers, but that's all according to them. In the week Lash was here, he went back to his room with Proud Feather every night. Word was that Red Crow got wise to Lash's card counting and moved in to get him, only Lash and Proud Feather were long gone by the time they busted into his room.

All I got to go on is a California driver's license that was issued six years ago and may be fake. Like the best con men, Lash probably isn't even his real name. Lucky for me, Crazy Horse does more than just blackjack and poker. They also run sports betting.

It's their sports bookie that gives me a solid lead. Lash took a dive the other week when Oregon was upset against Southern Cal. He lost nearly ten grand on it. In his six day stay, of all the games he played, it was the only bet he lost.

Taking that idea, I find the nearest payphone and ring up Belle.

"Belle's Bail Bonds."

"You're a real *****, you know that? Told you time and again I don't work Indians."

"How about you stuff it up your ass, Jonah? Is the pay good, like I promised?"

"Yeah, for a skiptrace the only money ain't bad. But I don't like this Red Crow guy. I've heard stories."

"What kind of stories?"

"Just a few years back when I was in St. Paul, runnin' down this arsonist for a few counts of murder, and I was hearing about this street gang that was running meth through Minneapolis and St. Paul, their source was some Indian named Red Crow. It was all just whispers, though."

"I would tell you to be careful and take care of yourself, but it's you."

"Well, I didn't call just to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. I need you to run a search for me. Name of Bartholomew Lash, spelled just like you'd pronounce it. Look for any records of a man named that from Oregon or California."

"Yes, sir," Belle says sarcastically. If I were looking at her, she'd be giving me a little salute. "May take awhile."

"I'm spending the night here. I'm set up in room 105. Call me as soon as you got anything."

"Will do. Be safe and make sure you send me my damn finder's fee when you get done."

"Christ, woman. You used to be a whore, now you're a pimp."

"Not just any pimp, Jonah Hex, your pimp."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be sure to get you your money like a good little whore."
I chuckle and hang up. Despite the digs, Belle's the only person I actually trust in this world. We met in Central City when I was first starting out as a bounty hunter. She was a whore and I was after her s***bird pimp, guy got off on torturing and murdering his girls. Belle was next before I clotheslined the son of a ***** and broke his jaw in three places. She got off the street and started her own business as a bail bondsman. Guess I had an effect on her. I give her muscle on the tougher bounties, and she throws a bone my way every now and then.

I turn around and walk back inside the casino. Red Crow may be a certified ***hole, but it don't mean I can't blow off some steam while I wait to hear back from Belle.

*******

The shrill blast of the phone on my nightstand wakes me from my sleep. That phone is already loud, but with a hangover it's goddamn unbearable. I push the woman off of me and reach out from the bed and grab the phone.

"What?"

"Got a hit on your Lash, Jonah. Bartholomew A. Lash, born in Oregon, moved to California by himself when he was 18. He's been arrested a few times for gambling in Oregon and California, and he's been blacklisted in Vegas, Mississippi, and half the Indian casinos around the country.""Where's he from originally?"

"Aurora, Oregon. It's a long shot, Jonah. You sure that's where he'd run?"

"A man runs into trouble and there's only two places he'll go: Either the girl he's ****ing or the woman he came from. He's already got the girl with him, so he's headed back home."

"Good hunting, Jonah."

I hang up and get up, searching for my pants on the floor. The Indian woman in the bed stirs and rolls on her stomach. I look at the tattoos all over her naked back and ass. She was flirting with me so much last night, I figured Red Crow paid her in advance to show me a good time. She actually managed to halfway pretend my face didn't bother her, so Red Crow must have paid well. I pull my pants on and take my wallet out, putting a few hundred dollars on the nightstand.

Red Crow can rot in hell, I ain't his goddamn charity case. I put my shirt on before putting my .45's holster in the small of my back. After putting on my shirt, boots, and hat, I'm on my way out of the casino. The room's paid for in advance, so all I do is head for the parking lot and my truck. I start it up and pull out the parking lot, heading west towards Oregon.

The sooner I'm done with this job, the better I'll feel.

Oregon

I pull my pickup off the interstate and swing into a gas station just off the exit. I'm pulling up to the gas pump when I see the silver Lexus pull off the off-ramp. I first noticed it following me when I left South Dakota. They've stayed back enough that most people wouldn't notice them. But I ain't most people.

Aurora is only sixty miles away, but Red Crow's people don't know where I'm headed. I quickly fill up and pay for my gas before they get a chance to double back. I even go some backass way to the town to try and lose them.

The town of Aurora is just what you think it'd be, a damn pitstop with barely enough people to call it a town. It's four in the afternoon when I come to town, but the local bar is already open. I head inside and draw a few strange stares from the regular winos and smokehounds when they catch sight of my face.

"'Scuse me," I say to the bartender as I step up to the bar. "Shot of whiskey. Don't care what kind."

The bartender looks me over and flinches. He quickly runs off and fills up a shot glass with Wild Turkey. I take the shot glass and upend it, recoiling slightly at the taste. Don't care how big a man's dick is, or how many people he puts in the ground, he will always make that face at the taste of whiskey.

"Go again."

He fills up the glass again and I upend it quickly, letting the warm liquid slide down my throat and into my belly.

"How much do I owe ya?"

"Six and a half bucks."

I pull out a twenty and hand it to him.

"You help me out with something, I'll let you keep the change."

"What do you want to know, friend?"

"Looking for a man named Lash. Any Lash's living in the area?"

"There was a Lash lived out on Boone's Ferry Road. She died a few years back. Don't know if anyone bought her house, the economy being what it was."

"Alright," I say with a tip of my hat. "Thanks for the help."

It's a few minutes drive out to Boone's Ferry Road. There's a rundown and dilapidated house off the road. The only one on this stretch of highway. I pull up into the driveway and kill the engine. The house hasn't been lived in for some time, but I can tell somebody's recently moved in. The high grass is beaten down around the front door. There's fresh tire tracks in the mud. The shuttered windows are still shut, but they're out of position from where they were.

I pull the .45 from the holster resting in the small of my back. I get out the car and keep the gun down at my side as I walk up to the house. I stop short and walk around the house, wading through the high grass. A black sedan is parked behind the house. It matches the description of the one Red Crow said Lash was driving. I lean against the back door and listen. I can hear grunts and moans coming from inside. I smile and step back, holding the gun out as I swing my leg forward and kick the doorframe in.

I run through the open door and run in on Lash and his Indian princess, naked on an air mattress and going at it. They both scream, Lash climbs off of her and begins to run bare ass through the empty house. Cursing under my breath, I chase after him, jumping over the air mattress and the naked Indian woman as I run. Lash is almost out the front door when I catch him, barreling into him and crashing through the front door. I land on top of him and pin his naked body to the ground. Most hunters stick around the business and you develop pet peeves. Tackling naked people is right up there with meth heads who won't stay down.

"Damn you, Lash. This is for making me run," I knee him in the back and he grunts. I give him another knee to the back. "And that's for making me tackle you while you're naked."

I stand up and jerk him up to his feet.

"You're coming with me, ***hole."

Batman

12-09-2011, 06:14 AM

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IC: Alfred Jarvis

Daybreak casually drifts into sundown once again. And yet Miss Bertinelli and I are no closer to knowing if Bruce's condition has improved.

It has been a long and stressful day that I am more than thankful to be past, as my only form of company gives me a reassuring smile in the midst of a conference call. Initially I had objected to her staying at the hospital with me, knowing that she deserved to be spending these crucial hours doing something more pleasant, but her persistence was rather difficult to dissuade. In truth, I am grateful that she did, as I am not sure if I would have been able to make it through the day without the assistance. Being that he is my client by all technical means of the word, the many CEOs and business associates that regularly dealt with Waynetech stockholders have come to me to know what happened to Bruce Wayne. It is to be expected, but I am not of the mind to be negotiating deals that have been promptly abandoned by this sudden turn of events. Contrary to what is required of me, I cannot help but find thoughts to be lying elsewhere. It seems ludicrous to think that the fate of one man can throw so much into disarray at once.

As always, however, it only serves as a reminder that Mr. Wayne is far from just an ordinary man. I watch from the waiting room window as the sun sets upon Gotham, their inhabitants still entirely oblivious to all that has happened. Were it any normal evening, there is no doubt that I would already find him down in the cave, preparing his equipment and reviewing Oracle's data. I would offer him nourishment, only to be rejected as his mind would focus entirely on the mission at hand. Never did I imagine that I would ever be longing for that tired routine. And yet here I am. Here we both are, wishing that everything had stayed the same. I suppose the old saying holds some weight. True change is but the blight of existence. What we as a species long for, above all else, is normality.

"No, and I already told your secretary this morning. His shares of the company aren't going up for sale. I would have thought you'd give more of a damn about one of your own friends, but it seems I gave you too much credit. Good day to you."

Frustrated, she closes the phone and massages her temple. I haven't the heart to tell her that Mr. Queen called me personally, beforehand, to extend his sincerest wishes for Bruce's recovery and to authorize an immediate donation towards Waynetech's primary charital funds. I am unsure of why most of these billionaire types feel the need to put forth an overt charade of vanity, but it is not my place to pass judgement. Perhaps they all decided to secretly wear tights.

"Don't let him bother you, Miss.", I say, gently taking the phone as she sits down. "He's simply in a state of denial. It's quite typical behavior of the privileged when faced with such circumstance."

"I suppose you'd know, right?", she asks, taking another sip of her beverage. "Sorry. I know he wouldn't have wanted me to react like that during a transaction, but it's all still just..."

I sit next to her.

"Alot to take in. I know, Miss. But if I may, you're handling it with considerable grace. There is a reason Bruce chose you to succeed him as head of the company."

She smiles, grateful for the compliment.

"I don't think you've been handling it particularly bad, either. Honestly, I can't say I've ever seen anyone so in control under circumstances like this. You must have been raised with nerves of steel."

I give into a light chuckle, the first I've had in many hours.

"My parents were, shall we say, of the unconventional variety. My father is a veteran of the Cold War, and my mother was a prominent civil rights activist. I had an elder brother that served with Scotland Yard for a number of years. So by all accounts, I have experienced my fair share of horror stories before this."

She looks back at me, partially surprised. Then shakes her head.

"Jesus, no wonder you've been taking this so well. All this time, I thought my upbringing was out of the norm. You're making it look tame in comparison."

"By all means, Miss. We may still be able to trade."

She smirks. "Funny. I'll think about it,"

"Helena?"

We both turn as a man with disheveled red hair steps into the room, wearing an overcoat and an unbuttoned dress shirt. His face is riddled with a number of light scars, and he doesn't seem to have shaven in days. I stand, as does Ms. Bertinelli, who walks over to him and gives him a light kiss on the cheek. Ah. This must be the elaborate Detective Sage that she's been telling me about.

"There you are! Where were the hell were you?"

"Didn't mean to keep you waiting, babe. You know how traffic can be crossing through Metropolis. Almost had to tell some idiot tourist on the freeway to kiss my black---"

"Vic, please."

She elbows him in the stomach, indicating my prescence.

"Oh. Right, sorry, didn't mean to go off on a tangent. It's... been a long day."

I raise an eyebrow as he extends his hand.

"Vic Sage, Gotham's premier punching bag. You're Wayne's hired help, right?"

Not wishing to be rude, I return the sentiment and shake it, giving him a nod.

"In a manner of speaking, sir. Miss Helena has told me much about you."

He smirks. "Well, I damn well hope not. I've heard alot about your boy toy, too, and the things she told me that they used to do... man. Talk about your stiff competit-"

"VIC!"

She angrily grabs Mr. Sage by the arm, thank goodness.

"Not the time or the place."

"Aww, c'mon. I'm trying to be good. Honest!"

Pushing him out of the room, she looks back at me.

"Sorry, he can be difficult. But he's also my ride home, so I'm going to have to leave. Will you be alright to stay alone? Should I send someone over?"

Despite the fact that I will miss her company today, I shake my head and politely wave away her offer. "I do appreciate your generosity, Miss, but I'll be fine. You two be sure to have a pleasant evening."

Grabbing her coat, she comes up to me and gives another hug. To which I again return.

"Same to you. I know that it's got to be difficult, but just remember that this is Bruce we're talking about. We both know that the man's a fighter."

Parting from the embrace, I acknowledge her statement with a nod.

"Yes, he most certainly is."

Giving a friendly wave, she departs the room and grabs the waiting Mr. Sage.

"Uh-oh, I know that look. I'm gonna have to sleep on the couch again, aren't I?"

"Move!"

For a moment, I manage to find myself blissfully distracted from the stress of the day as I remember Helena's time with us. It wasn't for very long, when you consider the six month time period, but it felt like a lifetime had passed when they were both together. Even as he first embarked on his bizarre nightly quest, filled with just as much determination to rid Gotham of evil as he does now, I could see something different in his eyes whenever Helena walked into the room the next morning. Something that one could almost mistake for happiness, though I know the true sentiment. Bruce felt he wasn't worthy of her, with the darkness and the secrets constantly in the way. So he drove a wedge between them both, and forced her to leave.

Even years later, I can still tell that it was a monumental loss for Mr. Wayne. She is one of the most confident and warm people I have ever met, and it stands to reason that were they to follow through with the engagement, she would have made him much happier than he's been in recent months. It is a great shame. But the past is but a faint ghost, now, as I turn back towards the window and await the night's sky to greet me.

It's starting, now. I can feel it in my blood.

A Gotham without it's dark guardian to protect it.

Through my skepticism and doubt, I still cannot deny the impact that he has made on the city.

Things are only going to get worse without him.

"Alfred?"

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I turn, surprised to see Lucius Fox standing in the doorway. His look is complacent, even though he knows that I'm reading his expression immediately. God only knows how many loved ones of patients that he's had to deal with in this room, trying to hide the outcome of a failed surgery or a lost patient from those who would be positively devastated to learn such news.

I cannot lie. Even as my mind races with the possibilities, I find myself hoping - praying - that I am not such a case.

"Walk with me. We're about to have a long talk."

My pulse drops. The world stops.

This is it.

"Is he?"

"He's alive."

And suddenly, I feel as if my world can resume again. A breath of absolute relief escapes my lungs, as I nearly stumble under the sensation.

"But... I'm afraid there've been some complications."

Unsure that I understood him correctly, my relief fades as I walk closer towards him.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but what do you mean by that? What complications?"

"Bruce is..."

His head lowers.

"Damn it all, I tried. God knows that I tried."

My eyes narrow, as I begin to grow increasingly concerned.

"Lucius?"

He places a hand on my shoulder and sighs.

"He's slipped into a coma."

MST3K 4ever

12-09-2011, 01:56 PM

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Oswald and Mayor Thorne are sitting in the study of Oswald's private dining room of the Iceberg Lounge enjoying a sifter of Brandy and a couple cigars.

Thorne says, "The dinner this evening was delicious Oswald. The Lobster stuffed fillet was wonderful as always but I'm gathering that you didn't call me here just for evening of dinner and cigars."

Oswald replies walking away from the fireplace and to an wing-back chair, "How astute of you old friend. No there is a reason for my inviting you here this evening I'm concerned about Gotham."

Thorne asks, "How so?"

Oswald replies, "Well I'm sure like the rest of us you've heard about Bruce Wayne being in the hospital."

Thorne nods and says, "Yes very tragic the poor man does so much for this city and he gets pummeled in his own home."

Oswald says, "Yes indeed the poor man, but it's become very noticeable that the stock price for Wayne Enterprises is dropping steadily. Many financial analysts feel that if Wayne isn't out of the hospital and back in the board room, at least as a figure head, that Wayne Enterprises could be heading into a tail spin. Do you have an idea what that will mean for Gotham City?"

Thorne shakes his head and says, "I can only imagine."

Oswald says, "I can do more than that Rupert. Forget about the world-wide impact the impact in Gotham would lead this city into a depression, and eventually this city that we all love so would be nothing more than a speed-bump for anyone coming from the south en-route to Metropolis."

Thorne nods and says, "I see your point old friend, what do you suggest we do?"

Oswald is almost leaping for joy as Thorne finally asks the question he's wanted to hear all evening.

Oswald says, "I would suggest to the board of directors that a special adviser be appointed to help oversee the operations until Bruce returns. Face it they are all so concerned, and rightfully so, about Bruce and his well being that things could get missed in the big picture. Maybe stop the stock free-fall before it happens."

Thorne nods and begins to smirk, "A case of in the best interest of Gotham this is necessary."

Oswald nods and smiles, "Exactly."

Thorne finishes his Brandy and says, "I've got some contacts over at Wayne I'll talk to them and my liaison and run it by them."

Thorne gets up and says, "If you'll excuse me old friend I need to be going. A meeting tomorrow with my cabinet at 8 am."

Oswald replies, "Of course old friend."

The two men shake hands, and Mayor Thorne leaves.

Just then Oswald's L-Phone rings. His hospital source is on the line.

Oswald says, "Yes."

His source says, "Latest on Wayne; coma. They had to fight just to get him stabilized. Never saw Fox work so hard ever!"

Oswald, "Thank you. Your payment is on the way. Keep me informed."

Oswald sends out an e-mail through his private network:

Meeting...1 hour! Urgent! Anyone not here will be dealt with most harshly!

Penguin

Byrd Man

12-09-2011, 11:38 PM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

Keystone City, KS

I park the police van next to the sidewalk and get out. There's a patrolman on the stoop of the apartment, standing behind crime scene tape and fending off reporters.

"Let the detectives be," he barks out. "They'll issue a statement when the time comes."

I wade through the small crowd with my briefcase in hand. Elbowing to the front of the line, I show the officer my ID.

"Where's the picture?" He asks, tapping the ID.

"I'm new. Check with Captain Frye or Mister Singh."

"Naah. Not even these vultures could make a phony ID this good. If they did, it'd have a photo. Go in and see the detectives. Be careful because Chyre is in a mood."

I nod and make a note to watch out for whoever Chyre is. I bend down and cross under the tape and walk up the stoop inside the apartment.

"CSU!" I call out as soon as I'm in the front door.

"About ****ing time!" A voice says from down the hallway. A large, stony faced man turns the corner and looks at me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Uhh, Bart Allen...sir. I'm new."

"Jesus ****ing Christ. We got a double here and Singh sends us a ****ing rookie?! Oh my ****ing God. How old are you, kid?!"

"Twenty-two," I mumble out.

"Goddammit! I got stains on my carpet older than you! ****!"

My magnificent powers of deduction tell me that this is Chyre.

"You at least know what to do?"

"Take photos, dust for prints, collect trace evidence."

"There we go! They must of pulled you out of MIT! Goddamn rocket scientist we got here!"

"Fred," a latino man says as he walks down the hallway. "Leave the kid alone. He's already nervous as hell, you cussing him out won't help matters."

The detective holds his hand out. "Detective Jared Morillo. This piece of crap beside me is Detective Fred Chyre. We're Robbery/Homicide."

"Bart Allen, sir. CSU."

"Well, Bart Allen, welcome to the dark side of human nature. Get your camera and follow me."

I pop open the briefcase and look inside. There's a pack of latex gloves, a pack of cloth shoe covers, a camera, a fingerprint kit, tweezers, a small cordless vacuum, and plastic baggies. I grab a set of cloth covers and put them over my sneakers before I slide on a set of gloves and grab the camera, following Morillo and Chyre down the hall.

"Any experience in this, Bart?" Morillo asks.

"I did mark crime scenes in college, but that was it."

Chrye scoffs. "Well, this ain't school. We've had plenty of techs **** up on us and ruin cases. Don't put your name on that list."

"Fred, shut the hell up," Morillo barks. "Him and I will help you through it. Here we go."

I follow the two of them up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom. Laying on the bed, clad in boxers, is a dead man. There are nearly two dozen stab wounds on the man's chest.

"Get a shot from the entrance, then a close up shot of his chest, then one from the side."

I hold the camera up and snap the shot before gingerly walking into the room. Last night was hot, and the body is already starting to smell a bit funky. I've seen a few dead bodies as Flash, but nothing outside the recently deceased. Better get used to it, Barty boy. You'll look back and say this was one of the easier ones.

I get the shots off and follow the two detectives into the next room taking shots of another man in bed, naked except for underwear. Like the other victim, he has stab wounds, except only fewer. Laying on the floor beside the bed is a bloody butcher knife.

"Same as with the other victim." Morillo instructs. I snap off the shots and turn to the two detectives.

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"What if we do?" Chyre grunts. "You're just a lab rat. We put the pieces together."

Morillo rolls his eyes at Chyre and looks at me. "A home invasion last night. Somebody killed both of these men in their sleep and robbed them. Based on the number of wounds and the power behind the stabs, it's safe to say a man murdered them."

"Do you got all the shots you want?"

"Yeah. We need trace evidence and fingerprints now. The murder weapon"

"Alright."

I head down to the first floor and pass through the kitchen. I stop and catch something. There's a glass sitting on the edge of the counter, separate from all the other clean glasses. It was hot last night. Stabbing two men to death is hard work.

"Detectives?"

"You get lost, kid?" Chyre cracks as he comes down the stairs. I point towards the glass.

"It was what, in the 90's last night? I didn't see any air conditioner upstairs. It had to be around 100 degrees upstairs."

Chyre looks at the glass and it clicks.

"Holy ****! Get your fingerprint gear, kid."

I get the kit and dust down the glass. It comes back with a latent thumbprint of a man with a history of sex crimes and robbery. A friend of the victims identifies him. He was last seen with boy victims the night of the murder, they were leaving a nightclub and headed home. A day after the murder, Chyre and Morillo get him in an interrogation room and he folds under pressure. He confesses to both murders.

I watch it all go down from the other side of the two-way mirror. He's crying and Morillo is consoling him when Chyre leaves.

"Allen," he grunts, extending his hand to me. "Nice catch."

It's hard to contain the grin I feel like showing, but I do it as I shake his hands. "Thank you, sir."

"Call me Fred."

"I will, Fred."

"Allen!" I hear Singh calling from the squadroom. "Where the hell are you?! There was a B&E over at Saxon Jewelry. They need CSU there."

Chyre slaps me on the shoulder. "Get going...Oh, and Allen? You work another case that I'm on, and you **** up the evidence? I'll snap your goddamn neck."

I gulp and Chyre laughs. "I'm ****ing with you! Get the hell outta here!"

Central City, MO

Racing down the streets of Central in full on Flash mode. I'm on my lunch break, so I figured I could get a few runs through the Twin Cities before I have to head back to work.

"Dispatch to all units," the radio embedded in my right ear piece goes off. "Dispatch to all units. We've got a 40-16 at the corner of West 23rd and Fox Avenue."

A 40-16 is a murder with a possible hostage situation.

I'm at the location within a few seconds, coming to a stop in front of a man in a dark suit who's standing in the street, a dead body at his feet.

"Ah, so you are the one I am being paid to kill?" He asks in a thick Russian accent. "I was told you were a man. Instead they send me boy in Halloween costume. You are not man."

"Yeah?" I say my temper beginning to rise. "Care to find out what I can do, friend?"

"Of course...SABBAC!"

The street ignites in a great flash of flames, I cover my eyes to shield myself from the light and fire. By the time I can see straight, a powerful hand wraps itself around my neck and picks me up in the air.

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"Now you face my power. The power of the demon."

MST3K 4ever

12-10-2011, 12:29 PM

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The Atom transforms back into Rhiannon Palmer and takes a look around her apartment.

This place feels a whole lot different after living in a castle. Not that I'm upset, but the lack of people and how big it was it just feels like I am living someone else's life now.

She still sees the urgent message from Pete.

In a minute....something I have to do.

Rhiannon cuts on her lap-top and prints out a picture of her family. She then places it in a frame and puts it next to her bed. She just stares at it for a moment and finally she says, "Okay time to get back to work."

Rhiannon checks her message from Pete and all he says is, "Call me ASAP!"

Rhiannon calls Pete who says, "Where you've been the last couple of days? Been trying to reach you!"

Rhiannon replies, "Sorry I've been out of town. What's up?"

Pete says, "I figured this might interest you. Amanda Waller resigned effective 24 hours ago."

Rhiannon feels herself smile as she says, "Really! Well that makes the day a little brighter."

Pete replies, "Yeah apparently the people she bullied & blackmailed into making her CADMUS operation happen found out she was in India, basically in the dead-letter office, and that her CADMUS building imploded. It's like the sharks smelled the blood and went after her. They no longer see her as a threat. She told me to tell you that you won. Waller is still trying to deal with the fact you beat her it has really screwed her up. She's out of your life and is damaged goods and probably on her way to Switzerland by now."

Rhiannon says, "Yeah but you and I know she'll never see the inside of a jail cell even if she ever does leave."

Pete replies, "True, but like I said she's damaged goods no one is going to back her up anytime soon. In fact her two main cronies Mercer and Walker are already looking to cut deals."

Rhiannon says, "Couldn't happen to a nicer group. Thanks Pete."

Pete says, "No Problem I...wait a minute are you busy right now?"

Rhiannon replies, "No not really what's up?"

Pete says, "We got someone who just swooped in near the Suicide Slums area wearing a metal suit and causing all kinds of trouble. Can you take a look?"

Rhiannon says, "Get me a phone number for the area and I'm on my way."

Pete gives her a number and Rhiannon transforms back into The Atom and takes off to Suicide Slums area.

She re-emerges from a phone and out into the street.

The Atom grows back to 6 inches and sees what can best be described as metal bird.

http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20110212213507/villains/images/thumb/d/d8/Steel_Jacket.jpg/167px-Steel_Jacket.jpg

She says, "All-right Bird-Man it's time for you to go back to your cage!"

The metallic figure stops and hovers in place. It says in a computerized voice, "Great! I come out here for battle expecting Superman, Wonder Woman, or even that punk The Flash and I get the littlest Justice Leaguer! No matter! It'll be the easiest 25 Billion I've ever made! My name is Steel-Jacket prepare to end up in a pine-box or your case a match-box!"

Atom says, "Twenty five Billion? What are you talking about?"

Steel-Jacket says, "The Legion of Doom has put a price-tag on each of your heads! And I not only aim to collect but make my legend taking any and all of you out!"

Steel Jacket rockets upward and the begins a nosedive towards Atom.

Byrd Man

12-11-2011, 05:23 PM

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Previously

Oregon

I pull my pickup off the interstate and swing into a gas station just off the exit. I'm pulling up to the gas pump when I see the silver Lexus pull off the off-ramp. I first noticed it following me when I left South Dakota. They've stayed back enough that most people wouldn't notice them. But I ain't most people.

Aurora is only sixty miles away, but Red Crow's people don't know where I'm headed. I quickly fill up and pay for my gas before they get a chance to double back. I even go some backass way to the town to try and lose them.

The town of Aurora is just what you think it'd be, a damn pitstop with barely enough people to call it a town. It's four in the afternoon when I come to town, but the local bar is already open. I head inside and draw a few strange stares from the regular winos and smokehounds when they catch sight of my face.

"'Scuse me," I say to the bartender as I step up to the bar. "Shot of whiskey. Don't care what kind."

The bartender looks me over and flinches. He quickly runs off and fills up a shot glass with Wild Turkey. I take the shot glass and upend it, recoiling slightly at the taste. Don't care how big a man's dick is, or how many people he puts in the ground, he will always make that face at the taste of whiskey.

"Go again."

He fills up the glass again and I upend it quickly, letting the warm liquid slide down my throat and into my belly.

"How much do I owe ya?"

"Six and a half bucks."

I pull out a twenty and hand it to him.

"You help me out with something, I'll let you keep the change."

"What do you want to know, friend?"

"Looking for a man named Lash. Any Lash's living in the area?"

"There was a Lash lived out on Boone's Ferry Road. She died a few years back. Don't know if anyone bought her house, the economy being what it was."

"Alright," I say with a tip of my hat. "Thanks for the help."

It's a few minutes drive out to Boone's Ferry Road. There's a rundown and dilapidated house off the road. The only one on this stretch of highway. I pull up into the driveway and kill the engine. The house hasn't been lived in for some time, but I can tell somebody's recently moved in. The high grass is beaten down around the front door. There's fresh tire tracks in the mud. The shuttered windows are still shut, but they're out of position from where they were.

I pull the .45 from the holster resting in the small of my back. I get out the car and keep the gun down at my side as I walk up to the house. I stop short and walk around the house, wading through the high grass. A black sedan is parked behind the house. It matches the description of the one Red Crow said Lash was driving. I lean against the back door and listen. I can hear grunts and moans coming from inside. I smile and step back, holding the gun out as I swing my leg forward and kick the doorframe in.

I run through the open door and run in on Lash and his Indian princess, naked on an air mattress and going at it. They both scream, Lash climbs off of her and begins to run bare ass through the empty house. Cursing under my breath, I chase after him, jumping over the air mattress and the naked Indian woman as I run. Lash is almost out the front door when I catch him, barreling into him and crashing through the front door. I land on top of him and pin his naked body to the ground. Most hunters stick around the business and you develop pet peeves. Tackling naked people is right up there with meth heads who won't stay down.

"Damn you, Lash. This is for making me run," I knee him in the back and he grunts. I give him another knee to the back. "And that's for making me tackle you while you're naked."

I stand up and jerk him up to his feet.

"You're coming with me, ***hole."

Aurora, Oregon

Lash, wearing only a pair of jeans, is on the air mattress with his hands tied together behind back with a zip tie. Lash's girlfriend Proud Feather is restrained in the same manner.

I'm beside them, looking through the provisions they had stored in the house. Clothes, canned food, a pump-action shotgun, and a box of shells and that's it.

"Where's Red Crow's money, Lash?"

"It's not Red Crow's money, friend. It's all mine, won it fairly."

"The hell you say. You're a card cheat."

"Counting cards is perfectly legal, albeit frowned upon by most gaming establishments. It's not cheating. It's using the game's flaws to your advantage."

"Uh-huh. Ya'll can tell that to Red Crow when he strings you up by neck..."

"Listen, Mister..."

"Hex."

"Mister Hex. If I show you were the money is, will you let me go?"

"That ain't part of the deal. I bring in you, the girl, and the money. It's a package deal."

I walk back into the room where Lash and Proud Feather are sitting and look down at them. I reach into my boot and pull out my Bowie knife.

"My patience is starting to run thin. Now tell me where the goddamn money is."

"Tell him already!" Proud Feather hisses.

"Soon as we tell him, we're as good as dead. Both of us. You think Red Crow won't skin you alive because you're an Indian? You're sorely mistaken. Look, Mister Hex, how much is Red Crow paying you? Can't be much."

"It's enough."

"Look...after we left Prairie Rose, we hit up a few of the other casinos in South Dakota, even made a quick pit-stop in Vegas. I got over a hundred grand stashed. You let us go, I'll split it with you."

I look down a Lash and slowly shake my head.

"No can do. Won't find much work if word gets around I betray the folks who hire me."

A car door shuts outside and I turn away from Lash. I walk down the hallway to the front window, peering out at the silver Lexus parked behind my truck. Dammit. They must have followed me close enough to find Aurora. Shouldn't have been hard enough to find out I was here if they asked around.

The big, pierced Indian, Shunka, leads three of his buddies up to the front door of the house. Shunka knocks on the door and waits. I walk up to the door, pulling out my gun.

"Who's there?" I ask.

"Open up, Hex," Shunka says from outside. "We come to collect Lash and Proud Feather."

"I seem to recall collectin' them was my job..."

"Red Crow thought you might need help."

"Well, I have things well under control. No need to intervene."

"I don't think you understand me, ***hole. We're collecting that ****ing card cheater and his whore. Now open the goddamn door."

"You give me my money, and I'll hand them over."

"We got it out here, Hex. Come and get it. It's all the money Red Crow promised you and then some. He's so goddamn happy, he gave you a raise."

"Alright, let me go get Lash and Proud Feather."

I walk back through the house where Lash and Proud Feather are. He's laying on the floor, struggling against his bonds.

"Get the hell up!" I growl, jerking him to his feet. "This money you got stashed, is it safe?"

"Safe enough."

"That's gonna have to do. Those sons of *****es outside are about to **** me over, I can feel it. You get ****ed over as much as I have, you develop a sense for these things."

I holster my gun and walk over to the pump, picking it up and racking a load into the barrel.

"Both of you find cover and hide right now. Body parts and bullets are about to be flying."

Batman

12-11-2011, 09:19 PM

http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/4810/catwomanredo.png

Okay, Selina. Just breathe.

You've dealt with worse than this.

My convienient little moment of reassurance aside, I have no idea how to get myself out of this. Usually, I'd try and improvise - which is what I've always been good at - by observing what I have at my disposal. But it's pretty hard to get a handle on your surroundings when some creep with a gun has the bottom of his boot clamped hard against your throat. I try and mask the fear in my face as he lowers his gun towards my temple, but given the shift in his body language, I don't think that I'm doing a very good job. If it weren't for that stupid helmet he's wearing, the guy would probably be smiling. Just my luck. I always envisioned dying an old woman, surrounded by siamese cats and jewels as far as the eye could see, laying in a bed with silk sheets overlooking the Paris skyline. Instead, I'm going to go out at twenty-six with a bullet in my brain.

How luxurious. At least it'll be quick.

"You're lucky."

After preparing myself to wince, I hear that and stare back up, confused.

He retracts the glocks. My jaw nearly drops. What the hell is he doing?

"Huh?"

Even though he still has me pinned, I can tell that he's not as tense.

http://i781.photobucket.com/albums/yy98/DCMarvelRPG2/Ultimate%20DC/Red%20Hood/RPG4-7.png

"Only meant to tag you, but you complicated things by running. Now that I've got you down, we don't need to resort to nastier means."

I sneer back at him.

"Gee, thanks. And here I was, all concerned."

"I noticed. But if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be speaking right now."

He kneels down, reasserting the strain on my throat.

"So now that we're cleared on that, why don't we head back to square one? You were just about to tell me what the hell you were doing here..."

You know, it's funny, but I don't exactly remember ever agreeing to do anything of the sort. But considering sweet old Irena didn't raise no fool, I decide not to bring up that little detail to the guy still packing enough heat to render me a stain on Wayne's floor. Instead, I force a smirk, trying not to show my displeasure at this idiot's tenacity.

"A girl can never kiss and tell. But if you must know, I'm what you'd consider a professional at taking nice and valuable things that nobody would miss."

"Oh. So you're not a would-be killer, just a would-be thief."

I scoff, almost offended.

"Would-be nothing. Half of the mob's pockets just became lighter because of me, and I figured Wayne's art collection would be next on my list."

Red crosses his arms. "Well see, that's where you and I are going to have a bit of a problem. I don't like thieves."

"And I'm not terribly fond of having my throat crushed in, so that makes us even."

"No, even would be the cat never deciding to slink out of whatever alleyway it lived in and bothering Bruce Wayne's penthouse in the first place."

My eyes burn back at him.

"Yeah, well it sounds like Mr. Wayne has a hell of alot more to worry about tonight, doesn't it?"

His fists tighten together and his muscles begin to tense up. Badly handled, Selina. You must have just touched a nerve. Kneeling down, he grabs me by the top of my head. I try and grab back at his grip, but it's too late. He's already got me off of the ground. The guy's strong.

"I think Mr. Wayne's seen enough of burglars for one night. And so have I."

The kick to the gut comes sooner than expected. Can't even breathe as I fly into the next wall. Vision goes blurry as I realize that the concussion's beginning to catch up. I can't fight this guy - not just because he's probably trained in about thirty different styles - but also because I'm in no shape to carry on for very much longer. Peeling myself off of the floor as he approaches, I decide to stop playing around.

I may not be able to fight him. But that certainly doesn't make me defenseless.

"Oh, come on. Fighting back didn't really work out for you the first time. Or the second."

"Well, you know what they say..."

To his surprise, I unsheathe the claws in my gloves and dig them hard into his chest, slicing down into his leg. He yells out in pain, stumbling back as the claws rip at some of his skin and draw blood. I almost smile.

"Third time's the charm, *******."

Assessing his wounds, he practically growls under the helmet as he pulls the guns back out. But my hand is already tightened around the whip, ready to shred his fingers before they can pull the trigger. He clicks back the safety, I crack the handle. We're both caught at a standstill. Two bulls in a chinashop.

"Wanna shoot me? Go ahead."

http://i781.photobucket.com/albums/yy98/DCMarvelRPG2/Catwoman/Bats3-7.png

"Your move."

He aims at both my shoulder and leg. He said he only wanted to tag me. I'm sure that he's perfectly capable of it.

"No, I insist. Ladies first."

I'm about ready to oblige, even though it's probably going to come back to bite me in the ass.

But we're both interrupted by sounds outside. Oh, god. I wasn't prepared for this. It was supposed to be as simple as sneaking in, getting down to the cave, and getting out as quietly as possible whenever I found what I needed. But my run-in with psycho killer here's just alerted one of Wayne's understudies - either the housemaid or the Grayson kid.

Or even worse, Wayne's assistant Alfred will come in to find all of the damage done to his home. And after he helped save my life during that - whatever it was, invasion - a year or so back, this is definitely not how I wanted to repay him.

Fortunately, Red retracts his weapons aswell, sensing the oncoming danger.

"Look, you wanna stay here and fight like a couple of children? Be my guest. But I don't think they need to find us warring it out in the middle of all that's happened tonight."

For a moment, he hesitates to agree with me. But he eventually nods.

"One condition. You leave here right the hell now and never return. I don't care if you steal from the mob - they deserve what's coming to them - but Wayne is off limits. Understood?"

I shrug. "Fine by me. Looks like most of the stuff in here is damaged, anyway. Wouldn't even be a modest score."

A little white lie. But one that I'm perfectly fine with, if it means getting Red Death off of my back. We both part our seperate ways and don't say anything further, leaving through opposite windows.

Well, that was a waste of my time.

Thanks alot, you pistol-toting freak.

Byrd Man

12-11-2011, 10:32 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita

The Hind gunship flew low for another pass, riddling the snowy forest with bullets. Flag, Blockbuster, and Vertigo ducked behind trees as the fire ripped through the woods.

"Flag to Waller, how the hell did that thing get the drop on us?"

"It was part of the escort. It trailed a few miles behind the train. I was hoping we could get in and out before it caught up, but I was wrong. Calculator jammed their signal, so they can't radio for backup. We're wasting time, Flag. Take it out!"

"Deadshot, please tell me you can get a shot in on this thing."

"Been trying," Lawton said into his mic. He was on the other side of the convoy, planted in the snow with a sniper rifle. "It's moving too damn fast, and the cockpit glass is tinted. I'll give you a 75% chance that I'll hit the pilot."

"What about Vertigo?" Bronze Tiger asked. He was a few feet behind Deadshot, taking cover behind a pine tree with more than a few bullet holes in it.

"He can spin the pilot out, but it's too unpredictable. The damn chopped could crash into us. I've got a better idea. Nightshade."

"Yes, Colonel?" She asked. She was hunkered down in undergrowth beside the train tracks.

"Create a portal. In the Hind's flight path. Is it within your range to make the portal open up a kilometer east of here?"

"I can do that. Let me concentrate..."

Nightshade put her hands together and focused on the air above the train tracks. The gunship had flown through that spot in the air at least a half dozen times since it showed up. The air began to ripple, tiny at first, but going larger. A few seconds later, a large rip in the fabric of space was hanging in the air. The Hind noticed it, but it was too late to avoid it. The gunship passed through the portal and disappeared. Off in the distance, they all the head loud crunch of metal hitting the frozen ground. A kilometer to the east of their location, the night sky lit up as a large fireball shot upwards.

"That takes care of the Hind," Flag announced, coming out of the woods. "Let's get moving. Blockbuster, you're up!"

Flag tossed a harness to the large man and pointed towards the freight car. A half hour later, Blockbuster was pushing the car to the Squad's train. Nightshade and Flag attached it to the passenger car, creating a three car train. While they worked on it, Deadshot and Bronze Tiger examined the box car. Turner slid the door opened and looked inside.

Inside was a sleek black aircraft, the black so dark that it seemed to absorb the light all around it. It was a perfect match for the sketches the Squad had been shown back at Belle Reve.

"Bronze Tiger to Waller, we've got a confirmation on the aircraft."

"Good. We all set up, Flag?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Get back in the passenger car. We're starting the train back up. Now comes the hard part...getting this son of a ***** out of Russia."

********

Moscow
16 Hours Later

Colonel Gorki was growing anxious. The top secret convoy they sent through Siberia had failed to report in for quite some time. His superiors in Spetsnaz and the GRU were growing anxious. Gorki had sent out a scout team to survey the area where they had lost contact with the convoy. Now, he sat inside the GRU command center with the little man they called Major Zastrow, a holdover from the Soviet days.

<"Colonel,"> Sergeant Pavel said. <"The scout team is just arriving. We are getting the video feed.">

On the screen, they watched as the special forces walked down the train tracks. There were dead bodies littered on and around the tracks, all of them wearing Russian uniforms. The train engine was on fire and toppled. Most importantly of all...their cargo was missing. Gorki cursed under his breath and picked up the phone.

<"I need Hinds, transport ships, and three units out Chita now!">

<"Why?"> Zastrow asked, lighting a cigarette. <"We both know I can bring in four people who can provide as much support and firepower and find you your alien craft.">

<"No," Gorki hissed. <"We will not use your washed up freaks. Their time as come and gone.">

Zastrow calmly flicked the ashes from his cigarette and pulled a piece of paper from his jacket. <"These are orders from the President, signed off on by the Prime Minister. They make it clear where me and my team stands.">

Gorki read over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read. Finally, the colonel tossed the paper into the air in disgust. <"Fine. Call your heroes. But know this: the death of them will be on your hands.">

Zastrow shrugged and walked out of the control room. He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed a number. <"Yes, it is me. We have the green light. Rally them all around you, Hammer The People's Heroes have one more shot to defend Mother Russia.">

Siberia
600 Kilometers West of Vladivostok
0214 Hours

The train tore through the Russian wasteland, going down the rails at speeds surpassing seventy miles an hour. Inside the passenger car, the members of Task Force X, also known as the Suicide Squad, were checking and doubling checking their weapons.

It had been nearly 24 hours since they had hijacked the freight train carrying a crashed alien aircraft. Since that time, they hadn't stopped as they headed west towards the port city of Vladivostok. It was there they would be extracted from the country and the mission would be complete.

"Alright, here's the plan," Sarge Steel announced to the group inside the car. He had a pistol in his right hand, the left hand was clad in a black glove. "Calculator hacked into the Russian Army's communication feed. They discovered the wreckage from the convoy about eight hours ago. They've issued a bulletin to all train stations to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. The nearest checkpoint is in a hundred kilometers. So, be ready. From there on out, we're gonna have to fight our way out of Russia."

"Which is why I'm setting up a contingency," Waller said from the back of the car. She held up bricks of the plastic explosive Semtex. "We got about an hour until we hit that checkpoint. Let's get started."

It was nearly an hour later that the train passed through the village of Bikin. A whole company of Russian army troops were stationed outside the train station. They all watched as the Squad's train zoomed through the station and out of the village. The troops began chase, following in jeeps, humvees, and helicopter.

"Alright, here we go," Flag said, sliding a clip into his M4 and cocking it. "Field team on the roof of the train."

They all climbed up to the top of the passenger car. Flag directed their movements, sending Vertigo, Blockbuster, and Bronze Tiger to the boxcar while he stood his ground on the roof of the passenger car with Nightshade and Deadshot.

The night wind howled all around them and the cold bit into them. The tops of the cars were slick with ice and snow.

"Here they come!" Vertigo yelled from the end of the train. A helicopter appeared over the treeline and cut through the air towards them.

"Vertigo, take it out. Everyone else give him some covering fire."

Flag and the rest of the Squad took potshots at the chopper, distracting it while Vertigo did the real work. Activating the eyepiece attached to his head, Vertigo aimed his sights on the attack chopper. The helicopter began to wobble and shake as the effects of vertigo overcame him. With another swoop, the helicopter disappeared into the trees and crashed. Flames erupted from the crash and fire coated the snow covered trees.

"Oh, God," Waller screamed into the team's earpieces. "Everyone hold on to something!"

Before anyone had a chance to heed her warning, the train plowed into the blockade that had been laid on the tracks. The engine shook and the entire train bucked, knocking the cars off the rails. The team fell hard on he roof of the train as the cars began to tumbled into the snow. They slipped on the ice coated roof and held on for dear life as the derailed train slid through the snow and crashed through the forest and trees. Flag saw Nightshade fall and stuck out his hand, catching her from falling beneath the wrecking train. Someones screamed and Flag heard the crack of timber splitting. Finally, the train came to a stop inside the forest, almost a quarter of a mile away from the tracks.

Flag and the rest of the Squad jumped off the side of the car and began to crunch around in the snow, attempting to get their bearings.

"Gimme a sit-rep. Is everyone okay?"

"I'm fine, Rick," Nightshade said breathlessly to Flag's right. Even though she said she was okay, Flag noticed the scratches on her face and arms. The branches and limbs of the trees had cut her up, as well as him. Deadshot grunted and brushed the ice from his shoulders.

"Vertigo and I are fine," Bronze Tiger said. "But Blockbuster..."

Flag turned to look. Even in the dim light of the night, Flag could see the massive man...and the bloody stump below the elbow.

"I'm alright," He grunted, holding on to the wound where his hand used to be. "It's only a flesh wound."

"Waller, it's Flag. We've got a wounded member out here. Is everyone inside the train alright?"

"Steel here. I'm alright, save for a broke arm. Calculator got his bell rung, and Waller is unconscious, but she looks like she's alright."

"Well, try to wake her up. We need to get going now. The Russians are coming."

"Wrong," a voice rasped in the darkness. The voice's owner had a thick Russian accent. Suddenly, flood lights were on them and blinded the group.

"The Russians are already here."

http://i40.tinypic.com/2a7dkbs.jpg
"Move out and capture them. I want all of them alive."

Andy C.

12-12-2011, 12:10 AM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

The Cave.

That's what he calls it, this massive underground bunker that Mr. Wayne set up under the streets of the city. It's where he houses his equipment, his vehicles, the hardware of the Oracle computer, his entire massive arsenal that the Batman's been using in his war on crime. I stumbled upon a secret entrance left open the night he was attacked, and when Miss Cooper and Alfred haven't been looking, I've been spending an awful lot of my free time down here.

It took a good amount of time just familiarizing myself with everything, but once I got a hang of the basics, I've been hard at work. I modified my smartphone to give me a direct link to Oracle, giving me access to just about every piece of data Batman has stored on it--which is, to say, an incredible amount.

I've analyzed the damage done at the scene of the attack and cross-referenced it with Oracle's catalog of known criminals, narrowing the search down to a scant handful of possible attackers--unfortunately, all of them are big and strong enough to tear my head off with one hand. I know Batman's worked with Superman before; maybe I can find a way to contact him or the other members of the Justice League when I find who it was?

Most of my time, though, has gone towards upgrading my gear. I managed to sneak some of it in from my own private lair, but a lot of it I just scrapped. After all, why bother using stolen police gear and homemade smoke bombs when the Cave has things that make even military-grade hardware look like toys?

My suit's been re-fabricated from scratch. using weaves and plates of body armor that's way stronger and lighter than what I had before.

My mask now has the same augmented-reality HUD that Batman's cowl does, feeding me real-time information as I need it via Oracle.

My gloves and boots are now lined with thick plates to better absorb impacts, as well as extra plating in the knuckles and toes to pack more punch (or kick, I guess).

My gas-powered grappling gun has been replaced with an electromagnetic launcher with a range about 100 ft greater than my old one, and with cable that will carry an extra 500 pounds.

The clunky utility harness I wore, I've swapped out with one of his, and with it a full compliment of smoke pellets, flash bombs, bolas, conventional and electrified net launchers, and collapsible 'Batarangs' in addition to my own shuriken-like Whirly Birds. Apart from the weapons, I've also loaded the belt up with various gizmos like UV scanners and fingerprint-lifting kits in order to set up an impromptu crime lab if I need to.

Heck, even my cape is better now; it's made out of some kind of experimental fabric that can assume a rigid shape, becoming a makeshift hang-glider.

In short, everything I had as Redbird, I'll have a better one as Robin.

My phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Dick?" Miss Cooper says. "Dick, it's almost 5 o'clock. Alfred said you were helping with some of the repairs around the apartment, but I want to make sure you're not going to be late."

"Late?" I ask, confused. "Late for what?"

"For your date with that girl, Rachel," she says. "It is tonight, isn't it?"

"What? No! I mean," I sputter. "I mean, yes, it's tonight, but it's not-- we're just hanging out, not--"

"Okay, okay, if you say so," she says with a laugh. "Still, when you reach a good stopping point, come back up to the apartment so I can help you pick out something nice to wear."

"Okay, I'll...I'll be up in a minute," I say, putting all of my gear up in a compartment under the seat of Batman's motorcycle before making my way to the elevator back upstairs to the penthouse.

About an hour later, I'm at the Adams Gallery in downtown Gotham, fidgeting with my tie. To her credit, Miss Cooper actually did pick out a nice outfit for me--red button-down shirt over an open black coat and slacks, with a thin black tie down the front. I always thought old people were supposed to make you look like you were going to Easter Mass when they picked out clothes for you. I still think I should have put some kind of gel or something in my hair, but she advised against it. And I have no idea how to style it myself.

I do a quick once-over of the place to look for Rachel, and don't find her among all of the hilariously-dressed hipsters and skinny pale people trying their best to look disaffected. On one hand, I'm kind of disappointed that she's not here yet. On the other hand, I'm relieved because I wasn't sure how to approach her.

And on yet another hand, I'm nervous because now I have to greet her when she shows up, and I'm not sure how to--

"Hey," she says from behind me, and I actually jump a little bit.

"Whoah! I mean, um.....hey," I say, trying to pick up the pieces of whatever bit of coolness I had. How does she keep doing that?

"You look nice," she says.

"Yeah, um, you look......you look really nice too....*ahem*," I say. In fact, she looks a lot better than nice. In a sleek black dress stopping just below her knees, a silver necklace with a single red jewel in the middle, and her pale complexion off-set by deep violet eyeshadow and black lipstick, she looks absolutely gorgeous. It's kind of hard not to stare, honestly.

"Thanks," she says, nodding her head just a bit as if to say 'this is where I would smile if I ever actually smiled.' "So, shall we go in?"

I nod, and gesture towards the door.

"After you," I say.

We spend about a half an hour looking at various paintings, mostly a lot of abstract expressionistic stuff that kind of makes my eyes hurt after looking at it too long. I never really had an eye for this sort of thing, but Rachel seems to get it.

At each exhibit, she tries to explain the significance of each blob or squiggle or patch of blank canvas, while I nod and pretend like it makes sense to me.

After a while, she catches onto the fact that it's all a bit over my head.

"You know," she says, "if you're not enjoying this, we don't have to stick around here."

"No no, it's not--," I stammer. "I mean, this whole scene is kind of new to me. I'm just....y'know....acclimating myself to it. And besides, I just.....I'd like to know what you like, so...."

"Oh, no," Rachel says, her eyes growing wide with alarm as she looks past me. "Dick, I have to go."

"What do you mean?"

"Behind you, near the corner," she says. I glance over and see a thin man with sandy brown hair, in a red suit, trying not to make it too painfully obvious that he's staring at us. "That's Sebastian."

"The one who knew your father?" I ask, and she nods. "I thought you said you weren't going to meet him."

"Looks like he's not going to take no for an answer," she says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the exit. "Let's get out of here, and then we'll call the police when we've lost him."

As we start to move towards the door, something weird happens: everyone in the room starts to freeze in place.....even me. My muscles just....seize up....I......I can't move!

"Dick, come on, we've got to go!" Rachel pleads, seemingly the only one in the building who can move as she pulls on my arm. "Dick, please, this isn't funny!"

"No, I don't suppose it is," I hear Sebastian say as he casually walks up to us, looming over Rachel as he approaches. "I had really hoped you would want to do this the easy way, but you don't leave me much choice."

"Get away from me!" Rachel shouts, slapping Sebastian across the face.

The door we were trying to leave through opens, and through it step a group of six men in black hoods. One of them is carrying a candle of some kind....I could swear that it's a human hand.....

"The time is upon us, my bride," Sebastian says, as two of the men rush forward to grab Rachel. "Tonight you learn everything you never wanted to know about yourself....and your father."

Rachel struggles and writhes to get free, but the two robed men keep their grip as they pull her towards the door.

"Let me go!" she shouts through gritted teeth. "LET ME GO!"

They take her out the door, and neither I nor anyone else in the room can do anything about it.

It feels like hours before I can move again...according to my watch, though, it's only been about ten minutes.

"Rachel," I say to myself, as if snapping out of a stupor. "Rachel!"

Before the rest of the room can regain their bearings enough to actually panic, I bolt out the door, running into the street......but Sebastian and his men are long gone. There's no sign as to where they've taken her. She's just....gone.

I stand out in the street for nearly a solid minute before a car nearly runs me over, the angry driver honking his horn loudly as he swerves into the next lane over. I blink, realizing that standing there like an idiot isn't going to do any good, then run to the nearest alley and pull out my smartphone.

"Oracle," I say into the phone, firing up the AI's voice-recognition software. "I need the Bat-cycle at my location, corner of Adams and Wolfman, ASAP."

Hang on, Raven, I'm coming for you.

And Sebastian, whoever you are.......I'm coming for you, too.

MST3K 4ever

12-12-2011, 06:55 PM

Bounce

12-12-2011, 09:06 PM

https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/s381/lor_zod3.png
Benedict Arnold Elementary School
Metropolis, MA

The sounds of sirens, an orchestra of fire, police, and ambulances, were descending upon the school. In retrospect, maybe the school gymnasium was a bad place to have a fight with another ‘meta,’ the phrase that Miss Fiona used whenever she referred to Lor-Zod, Kal-El, or any of the other heroes that the young Superboy had met thus far. The child’s tennis shoe shod feet scraped against the waxed floor, the rubber of the sole starting to melt under the intensity of the heat blasting away at the thin sheet of metal the boy was using to shield the woman’s blast from consuming the unconscious teacher behind him.

The child was only mildly aware of the fact that his shoelaces were on fire, which did not bode well. Dabney had already bought him twelve pairs of shoes this month alone. Earth really didn’t seem to make a shoe that would last more than a day on an active Kryptonian child.

The fire stopped, the boy’s spatial sense tracking the sudden swell in air temperature as the red-hued lady soared directly overhead and prepared to take another shot.

But she’d already had her shot. It was Lor-Zod’s turn now.

Chucking the metal sheet like a giant frisbee, Superboy sent the warped and melted shield slamming into the woman with sufficient force to knock her straight into the rafters over the basketball court. Her blast had been enough to knock him back. It only seemed polite to make sure his throws had enough power behind them to return the favor.

But he wasn’t done with his turn just yet. It wasn’t safe for them to fight here, so Lor needed to get the fire-lady away from the school. And fast.

Pushing himself from off the ground, the child sent a crack spreading in all directions through the gym’s wood floor as he sailed through the air with a fist cocked back. Tangled in the beams of the rafters, the fire-lady had just enough time to get off a harried blast of energy as the two collided.

The roof of the gym erupted with a sound like that of a nuclear bomb detonating, a gout of fire shooting upward as debris rained down on the city surrounding the campus. A fireball spiraled, seemingly out of control, as the boy and woman exchanged a series of blows between the two.

She was keeping up with him. Deflecting his attempts at striking her even when he wasn’t holding back. Her fire burned him, his skin red and blistering from the scorching of mere contact with her.

This was a challenge.

A bubble of laughter escaped the boy, as a smile lit up his face. This was more than a challenge, this was fun. At last he had an obstacle to overcome. An opponent to conquer. This was what Zod’s were born for.

“Play a little rough, don’t ya kid?”

“I get sent to the principal’s office a lot.”

“Did the principal ever tell you not to hit girls?”

“Sure did,” Lor chirped, right before surging forward and slamming his head into the woman’s. “I didn’t listen then either.”

The woman reeled back in the air, Superboy displaying a self-satisfied smile… before the woman snapped forward and let loose a breath of fire right in the boy’s face.

MST3K 4ever

12-13-2011, 11:58 AM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom watches as Steel-jacket begins to pick up speed.

Timing is everything!

At the last second The Atom shifts her weight enough to allow the moving air currents to throw her out of the path. As Steel-Jacket rolls smashes into the street.

He stands up and shakes his head.

Steel Jacket says, "Impressive shifting your weight like that. No matter I'll still kill you in the end. You might as well give up now Atom! You're only delaying the inevitable; your death! Hold still and my talons will make it quick!"

Atom floats up and says, "Save it Steel-Jacket. I've taken on better than you and made..."

Just then Steel-Jacket slashes the air continuously creating stronger and stronger air currents making it impossible for Atom to keep hovering in one place. She begins to be thrown about out of control.

Can't shift weight...I'll plummet to the street and if that happens I'll be a splotch on the street. Can't get my bearings...don't know....so dizzy...

Atom passes out just as Steel-Jacket grabs her in one hand and begins to take flight.

He says, "I wonder if I should even bother taking the money for killing you so easily. Wonder how you should meet your demise. Ahh that chemical plant over there let's see if some liquid nitrogen will do to you. Maybe turn you into a nice paper-weight for Vandal's Desktop."

The Atom begins coming to but Steel-Jacket activates an small electrical charge from his suit and The Atom is quickly paralyzed by the vibrations.

He says, "Oh no you're not going to keep me from my bread! Like I said I'm making my legend with you!"

Byrd Man

12-13-2011, 01:30 PM

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Previously

Central City, MO

Racing down the streets of Central in full on Flash mode. I'm on my lunch break, so I figured I could get a few runs through the Twin Cities before I have to head back to work.

"Dispatch to all units," the radio embedded in my right ear piece goes off. "Dispatch to all units. We've got a 40-16 at the corner of West 23rd and Fox Avenue."

A 40-16 is a murder with a possible hostage situation.

I'm at the location within a few seconds, coming to a stop in front of a man in a dark suit who's standing in the street, a dead body at his feet.

"Ah, so you are the one I am being paid to kill?" He asks in a thick Russian accent. "I was told you were a man. Instead they send me boy in Halloween costume. You are not man."

"Yeah?" I say my temper beginning to rise. "Care to find out what I can do, friend?"

"Of course...SABBAC!"

The street ignites in a great flash of flames, I cover my eyes to shield myself from the light and fire. By the time I can see straight, a powerful hand wraps itself around my neck and picks me up in the air.

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"Now you face my power. The power of the demon."

I struggle against the iron grip of my attacker, rubbing my hands against his arm to create friction. He just laughs and tightens his grip.

"You cannot burn what is already burnt! You can run, little man, but can you fly?"

Just like that, I'm airborne. Central and Keystone are spinning and twirling below me, getting tinier and tinier. I finally stop climbing into the air, a few thousand feet above the city, and begin my descent towards the ground.

"Oh, God....this is gonna hurt..."

I tumble towards the Earth, picking up speed as the ground rushes up to meet me. I point my arms towards the ground and start to spin them clockwise, generating gusts of wind that slow me down until I softly land on the street.

"Ha! That wasn't so ba-"

WHAM!

The demon guy tackles me, flames licking his hands and arms. We fly through the air and come down in the parking lot of Central City Steelworks.

"Burn!"

My attacker shoves his flaming hand into my face, but I vibrate my body so fast that I phase through the devil and get behind him. I deliver a super-speed punch to his kidney and cause the demon to grunt out in pain. He reaches up and tosses me into the air. I spin like a rag doll and crash through the wall of the steel mill, right inside the foundry. Molten steel is melted down and poured just a few feet from where I land.I crawl on the floor, giving my body time to recover from the blow I just took. I reach my hand out and a black leather dress shoe stomps on it.

"C'mon, dude!"

He picks me up by the necks and holds me up above him, the flames on his hand burning my neck.

"Now you will feel the burn of the demon!"

Time seems to slow down to a crawl as the devil uses his free hand to conjure a fireball in his palm. I look around for a way to escape. I can phase out of his grip, but we're too close for me to get away, even as fast as I am. I need a way to beat him...

There.

Above my head, there's a button that controls the bucket above our heads. I reach out while the devil's fireball moves towards me super-slow. Gritting my teeth, I reach up and slam the button as hard as I can. An alarm rings out and the bucket upends itself, pouring molten steel down on both of us.

I vibrate my body and let the steel phase through me, while the demon takes the brunt of it. He screams out in pain as the steel coats his face and horns. He drops me as he recoils in pain.

"Looks like you can get burned!"

Reaching back with my fist, I hit him in the jaw with a punch that breaks the sound barrier. He flies off his feet and crashes into the foundry pit, screaming in agony as he climbs out of the pit, covered in red hot steel ore.

He crawls on the ground in front of me and moans, the cooling steel coating his body. After a minute, he's still and the liquid metal is cool, encasing the demon in a prison of pure steel.

I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. Cops and the fire department are coming. He's all theirs.

******

IC: Jesse Quick

I walk inside Dad's study to look for my laptop. Even though I've gotten used to seeing all the awards and trophies he has hung up, it's still a sight to see.

College awards, All-American honors, two national championships, his Heisman, and all his NFL trophies are all here. I stop and stare at the three NFL MVP awards hanging on the wall. They're right above the Super Bowl rings. Rumor is he's getting another MVP award, and maybe another ring. At 43, he'd be one of the oldest quarterbacks to win both.

"Jesse?" He calls out, leaning his head into the study.

"Looking for my computer, dad. Thought I left it in here."

"I didn't see it when I was in here this morning. How was school, sweetie?"

"Fine, I got Calculus homework. Wally invited me over to his house for dinner tonight, is that alright?"

"Yeah, just don't make a habit of it. We need to have him and his family over for dinner sometime. I like his big brother, skinny little guy cracks me up."

Dad smiles and walks off. I follow behind him and go through the house, looking for me computer. The doorbell rings and Dad calls out that he's going to answer it. I find my laptop in the living room and head off to my room when I hear the sound of raised voices coming from the front door.

Padding to the front of the house, I hear Dad and some guy arguing.

"Look, pal, I don't know what you want!"

"You know what we want, Quick. We want the formula. We know you got it. Give it to us, and there won't be any problems. Keep playing coy and who knows what might happen. We might tell the press your dirty little secret...or worse."

"What are you trying to say?!"

"Oh, nothing. Just you know how hard it is being a single parent. Can't watch your kid all the time, am I right?"

Dad curses at the man as the door shuts. Footsteps start coming down the hall. I take off and bound up the stairs to my room. Once I'm on the second floor, I lean against the wall and listen as Dad starts to break down and cry.

Batman

12-14-2011, 12:19 AM

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A coma.

Bruce is in a coma. And from what Lucius begins to tell me, while there is a chance his condition could improve within the next few hours... there is also - and I cannot believe I am forced to think this - but there is also as great a chance that he may never wake up at all. I try and remain in positive spirits as he tells me all that happened in that ER, how Bruce valiantly fought to stay alive and even succeeded, but it is difficult. Nothing brings me any more comfort than before. And so I remain in stark silence, as Lucius guides me to his downstairs office and begins to give me the full details of what transpired during his surgery. Even with all that he's sustained over these last few years, with several close calls and ludicrous injuries, this is by far the worst that he has ever endured. The closest to death that he has ever descended in a life - an obsession - full of leaps towards that inevitability.

And even so, it is not yet over. Lucius hands me the report he's just filed, the log that he chartered as he explained the key points of Bruce's injury to me in the midst of several unfinished cigarettes. To call Mr. Fox a chain smoker would be a credit to tabacco enthusiasts. Normally, I would ask him to take it elsewhere, but my mind is so lost in thought that it does not even bother me anymore. I am even tempted to ask him for one myself.

Bloody hell. I can barely stand it. Why is all of this happening so fast?

"If you'll look closely, you can see it in the x-ray. There was a substantial laceration to the lining of the bone, one that nearly imbedded fragments into the brain. The trauma would have easily killed him, but we managed to decrease the risk."

He places his hands together and sighs.

"What really did him in was when we indentified a subarachnoid hemorrhage. We applied the nessecary care, but there's honestly very little to stand in the way of bleeding into the brain. Few actually survive the injury, you have to understand. It's classification falls under the same category as a stroke..."

I merely shake my head, looking over the documents. Words and terms that I can barely understand, or even care enough to decipher. My mind is quite literally racing as it stands.

"I know that it's difficult to hear, Alfred. But pay attention. You're his power of attorney, and I legally can't withhold anything."

Without directly acknowledging him, I simply turn to the next page of his report. He sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, I'll just say it. The reason he's in a coma is because of the blood trauma. Midway through the surgery, he flatlined. He was technically deceased for thirty-four seconds."

Finally, my eyes dart back towards him. Even with all that I'm feeling, there's quite literally nothing for me to say to that. The man died, but he didn't. How do you even comprehend such a thing?

"We managed to bring him back, but..."

"But in a coma."

He closes his eyes, regretfully sitting back.

"Alfred, I already told you, I tried my absolute..."

I close the report. "Lucius, I wasn't blaming you. I have the utmost faith in your surgical abilities, and so did Bruce. Your staff are amongst the best in the country."

Hesistantly accepting the compliment, he nods.

"They are, you're right. I don't appreciate them nearly as much as I should."

"So what can I do to help him now? Are there standard procedures for this sort of thing?"

"Procedures?"

He narrows his eyes. "He's in a state of deep unconsciousness, Alfred. His body is incapable of response. Nothing you or my staff can do is going to be able to change his condition. He'll need to be put on life support, which we're setting up now. A feeding tube will also be required, and he'll need to be given a constant dosage of several medications..."

I stop him while he's ahead, holding out my hand.

"Understand something, sir. I know exactly what this means. I'm not a bloody idiot."

"Nor was I calling you one, but..."

"I also happen to know if there is the slightest chance that, somewhere in there, he can hear the outside world, he's going to need someone with an air of familiarity by his side. Someone there to remind him that there is a world to come back to."

Lucius falls silent.

"And I fully intend to be that person, as I have been by his side for years. He is my brother, and this changes nothing. So I ask you again, sir."

With a deep sigh, he begins to massage his temples, obviously having difficulty with this. But he should know that no matter happens, I am not going to back down from this fight. No matter how long it may taken, Bruce will awaken this. He will recover.

"I'll sign an order that allows you to be in the room at all hours of the day. It's not common, but it's the most that I can do. You'll be in charge for everything that happens in that room. You get to approve whatever treatment he's given from here on out. But Alfred, I'm telling you..."

"That will be enough, Lucius."

I extend my hand to him, grateful.

"Thank you. Not only for this, but for all that you've done for us."

With a careful pause, his hand meets mine, and we shake. The two of us have remained friends ever since I came to Gotham, four years prior. I know that, even through his difficulties and hardships, that Lucius is well-intended and a good man. Even if the rest of the world cannot see him for what he is.

"You'll be able to see him in an hour. But I warn you, what you're going to see is... difficult, for most. Visibly, he's going to be in very bad shape. Alot of swelling and bruising."

I dismiss his concerns, standing up with the report in hand.

"I have seen him at his best, and certainly at his worst. When it comes to dealing with him, I am far from most."

"Maybe so. But you're wrong, you haven't seen him at his worst."

Lucius' eyes fixate on the chart in my hand.

"Not like this."

Something tells me he is right, and that whatever I felt I was getting myself into is just the beginning. It will be a long road ahead, I'm sure, but this is not like anything else we have faced. This will require a strength of will beyond anything either of us have ever tapped into. But I will brave it. I will brave it all, just for the chance that he can come back to us.

"So it's really happened, hasn't it?"

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"Somebody finally beat him."

I try not to acknowledge the comment, as Jason Todd and I stand outside of the room watching him from the partition, seeing the machines breathe air that his lungs cannot. Adorned in a leather jacket and jeans, it seems almost ill-fitting that Mr. Todd came here to be by his side, even for just a moment. In the months leading up to his incapacitation, Bruce would often stress about the fact that Jason had not returned any of his calls or messages since a certain night of hostile argument that both of them shared some months ago. I had not wished to intervene any further, knowing that it was between them alone, but I catch myself wondering just what had led to their falling out. Or perhaps, Mr. Todd's perception of a falling out. As far as Mr. Wayne was concerned, they were still friends. And he was still one of the few that he entrusted with the world.

Which is the only reason that I called him about this. Far be it from me to pass judgement, but I have to admit - I have never quite cared for Mr. Todd, or his similarly costumed alter-ego. Something about him has always struck me as, well, indescribably off-putting. But I did not ever voice those thoughts with Bruce, and I certainly don't intend to tell Jason. After all, this isn't a cross for me to bare alone. He is a friend to both of us, so in a way, we're both experiencing a loss.

Or at least, a considerable trial to push ourselves past.

"It's unfortunate. But to be expected, I suppose."

He crosses his arms, and I see something behind his eyes. An anger, of some sort.

"Yeah. I guess it was always gonna go down like this. You can't keep throwing yourself into the line of fire without it..."

"Hitting you the chest?"

"Yeah,"

He looks away. "My dad was always telling me that before he died. I just figured it'd be me that'd go down first. Not him, not Bruce. He was always so... prepared. It'd take a hell of an enemy to catch him off guard."

"Yes, well..."

I look back at Bruce, and am forced to look away. I guess that I lied to Lucius. I wasn't quite as prepared to see him like this as I thought.

"It certainly was one hell of an enemy."

"Who, Alfred? Who did this?"

The anger returns, and I see his teeth practically grit as he speaks.

"I want to make them pay. I want them to suffer as badly as anyone ever has."

"Jason, calm down..."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

The rest of the hospital staff looks at us, reacting to Mr. Todd's outburst. He looks around, then composes himself. I suppose I could reprimand him for his behavior, but he seems regretful enough to not require it.

"Sorry. I know it's not any easier for you to see him like this. It's just, he's my friend, and..."

I place a hand on his shoulder.

"I know, sir. We're all having a hard time."

He accepts my sentiment and walks away to the elevator, possibly to cool off. I simply turn to stare back at the man before me, lying helpless in that hospital bed, unresponsive to anything around him. It's the first time that I've ever seen him so vulnerable. I can barely even contain myself, forced to look away.

Please, sir. Fight this. Deep down, I know that you'd want to.

And I promise. No matter what happens, Gotham will still be here when you wake up.

MST3K 4ever

12-14-2011, 12:42 PM

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Most of the plant's personnel scurry from the plant at the sight of Steel-Jacket swooping in and one manages to call the police from his cell phone.

Steel-Jacket lands on a steel walk way and looks around. He unfolds his hand and looking at the paralyzed Atom says, "Well gotta say you really didn't put up much of a fight! One sidestep and that was it come on I've had roaches put up a better fight than you."

He looks down and sees a vat of liquid nitrogen and says, "Well not too worry in about 10 seconds it'll all be over!"

Atom says, "Count to 15 you'll live longer!"

She shifts her weight and the shifting causes Steel-Jacket to fall over the railing towards the vat below. As he does he lets The Atom go who floats upward and says, "I was paralyzed for about 10 seconds the last few minutes I was just biting my time!"

Steel-Jacket pulls out of his dive and says, "All-right Atom it's over now!"

He rockets towards Atom who begins to float away. She begins looking around and sees the metal piping leading to the inside of the plant.

Time to make an express route out!

Atom shrinks smaller and makes her way into the piping of the plant and begins navigating through.

Steel-jacket says, "Oh don't think that will save you! My eyes will track you by the ripples you make in the air-currents. It's only a matter of time." As he begins to tear apart the piping.

Atom gets out of the piping and enters a simulation chamber.

This is perfect!

She uses the vents and gets into the control room and makes some adjustments to the program as Steel-Jacket rips open the chamber door and says, "You think that room will save you? Pathetic little girl!".

Atom replies, "Oh it'll be enough did you bother to pay attention to the chamber you entered. It's a weather simulator!"

She jumps on the control panel and the wind machines engage along with lighting machines and rain machines.

Atom says, "This is set for Hurricane conditions! Your armor is sturdy but lite!"

Steel-Jacket is blown away and struggling against the other conditions.

Atom presses the lighting button over and over several bolts hit Steel-Jacket until his red eyes go out.

A ragged normal voice says, "Mercy please."

Atom says stopping the simulator, "Mercy? You were ready to throw me into a vat of liquid nitrogen! You wanted to kill me,and now you beg for mercy? Wrong day Steel-Jacket! Paybacks are hell! And I'm wielding the pitchfork!"

She continuously hits the lighting button. Until the door behind her brakes down and she sees Pete Ross standing there alone. Steel-Jacket lays on the floor barely breathing.

He says, "I think he's finished Atom."

Atom looks at Pete with anger in her eyes and says, "They declared war on us Pete! And once again after they try to kill us we're supposed to act like it's okay and just let 'em go! I can't do it! I CAN'T!"

Pete says, "We need to talk now!"

Atom says, "Time for talking is over! It's time to take the fight to them! They will pay!"

Pete says, "Come with me Atom either willingly or I'll arrest you and I can bring you in very easily!"

Atom replies, "All-right your office I'll meet you there."

Pete nods and The Atom uses the phone in the control room to get to Pete's office as Pete leaves.

Byrd Man

12-14-2011, 03:29 PM

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Previously

Siberia
600 Kilometers West of Vladivostok
0214 Hours

The train tore through the Russian wasteland, going down the rails at speeds surpassing seventy miles an hour. Inside the passenger car, the members of Task Force X, also known as the Suicide Squad, were checking and doubling checking their weapons.

It had been nearly 24 hours since they had hijacked the freight train carrying a crashed alien aircraft. Since that time, they hadn't stopped as they headed west towards the port city of Vladivostok. It was there they would be extracted from the country and the mission would be complete.

"Alright, here's the plan," Sarge Steel announced to the group inside the car. He had a pistol in his right hand, the left hand was clad in a black glove. "Calculator hacked into the Russian Army's communication feed. They discovered the wreckage from the convoy about eight hours ago. They've issued a bulletin to all train stations to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. The nearest checkpoint is in a hundred kilometers. So, be ready. From there on out, we're gonna have to fight our way out of Russia."

"Which is why I'm setting up a contingency," Waller said from the back of the car. She held up bricks of the plastic explosive Semtex. "We got about an hour until we hit that checkpoint. Let's get started."

It was nearly an hour later that the train passed through the village of Bikin. A whole company of Russian army troops were stationed outside the train station. They all watched as the Squad's train zoomed through the station and out of the village. The troops began chase, following in jeeps, humvees, and helicopter.

"Alright, here we go," Flag said, sliding a clip into his M4 and cocking it. "Field team on the roof of the train."

They all climbed up to the top of the passenger car. Flag directed their movements, sending Vertigo, Blockbuster, and Bronze Tiger to the boxcar while he stood his ground on the roof of the passenger car with Nightshade and Deadshot.

The night wind howled all around them and the cold bit into them. The tops of the cars were slick with ice and snow.

"Here they come!" Vertigo yelled from the end of the train. A helicopter appeared over the treeline and cut through the air towards them.

"Vertigo, take it out. Everyone else give him some covering fire."

Flag and the rest of the Squad took potshots at the chopper, distracting it while Vertigo did the real work. Activating the eyepiece attached to his head, Vertigo aimed his sights on the attack chopper. The helicopter began to wobble and shake as the effects of vertigo overcame him. With another swoop, the helicopter disappeared into the trees and crashed. Flames erupted from the crash and fire coated the snow covered trees.

"Oh, God," Waller screamed into the team's earpieces. "Everyone hold on to something!"

Before anyone had a chance to heed her warning, the train plowed into the blockade that had been laid on the tracks. The engine shook and the entire train bucked, knocking the cars off the rails. The team fell hard on he roof of the train as the cars began to tumbled into the snow. They slipped on the ice coated roof and held on for dear life as the derailed train slid through the snow and crashed through the forest and trees. Flag saw Nightshade fall and stuck out his hand, catching her from falling beneath the wrecking train. Someones screamed and Flag heard the crack of timber splitting. Finally, the train came to a stop inside the forest, almost a quarter of a mile away from the tracks.

Flag and the rest of the Squad jumped off the side of the car and began to crunch around in the snow, attempting to get their bearings.

"Gimme a sit-rep. Is everyone okay?"

"I'm fine, Rick," Nightshade said breathlessly to Flag's right. Even though she said she was okay, Flag noticed the scratches on her face and arms. The branches and limbs of the trees had cut her up, as well as him. Deadshot grunted and brushed the ice from his shoulders.

"Vertigo and I are fine," Bronze Tiger said. "But Blockbuster..."

Flag turned to look. Even in the dim light of the night, Flag could see the massive man...and the bloody stump below the elbow.

"I'm alright," He grunted, holding on to the wound where his hand used to be. "It's only a flesh wound."

"Waller, it's Flag. We've got a wounded member out here. Is everyone inside the train alright?"

"Steel here. I'm alright, save for a broke arm. Calculator got his bell rung, and Waller is unconscious, but she looks like she's alright."

"Well, try to wake her up. We need to get going now. The Russians are coming."

"Wrong," a voice rasped in the darkness. The voice's owner had a thick Russian accent. Suddenly, flood lights were on them and blinded the group.

"The Russians are already here."

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"Move out and capture them. I want all of them alive."

The battle raged on between the two sides. Suicide Squad vs. their Russian attackers.

Bronze Tiger ran through the trees, sliding into the snow to avoid the high kick from the young man. He was a former Spetsnaz commando trained in a laundry list of martial arts. His code name was Bolshoi.

Vertigo pulled out the Luger in his belt and fired at the fat, bearded man. The bullets absorbed into his corpulent waist and disappeared. The man laughed and clapped his hands together, creating an explosion that knocked Vertigo to the ground. The bearded man was known as Molotov.

Rick Flag and Deadshot were hunkered down behind trees as the large man in the suit tore through the forest. Flag peeked out from behind his tree and fired a quick three round burst at the man. The bullets ricocheted off his body with metallic dings. Stalnovolk drove his hands through a tree and toppled it with a mighty push. The tree cracked and fell to the ground between the two trees Flag and Deadshot were hidden behind.

Nightshade moved to her right and avoided being cleaved in half by the sharp sickle in her opponent's hands. The woman cursed in Russian and swung high, slicing off part of Nightshade's hair as she ducked.

Finally, Blockbuster stumbled backwards against a tree as the tall, blonde man came crashing down with a hammer. The hammer struck the tree and sent shards of timber flying into the air all around the two men. Blockbuster swung with his left arm, the only good arm remaining after his right arm had been amputated from the elbow down in the train crash.

From a distance, Major Pasha Zastrow watched with a cigarette in his hands. The excitement and joy he felt progressed as he watched his team take it to the Americans. I had been nearly twenty years ago when he was told his little project was as dead as the Soviet Union he had sworn to protect. It had taken him decades of politicking, and bartering, but they were finally proving the idiots in Moscow right.

The People's Heroes were proving their worth.

Bronze Tiger and Bolshoi traded blows, both men parrying each other with lightning speed. Turner landed a solid blow to the Russian's kidneys, but not before Bolshoi delivered a karate chop to his neck.

Vertigo hit Molotov with a wave from his eyepiece. The fat man began to sway and stumble against the effects. Before he fell, he struck out blindly and hit Vertigo with a blast from his hands. The fiery blast of energy struck Vertigo flush in his chest and engulfed his upper body in flames. The Vlatvian thief screamed out and dove into the snow, putting out the fire. When he pulled his head from the melted snow, burns and soot covered Vertigo's face, his eyepiece melted from the fire.

Stalnovolk broke through the tree harboring Rick Flag and tore the trunk apart with his steel hardened hands.

"Hello, my friend," the big Russian grunted as he looked down at Flag. "I look forward to playing the soccer with your skull."

"Always been more of a baseball fan, myself," Flag quipped, tossing a hand grenade at Stalnovolk and running. The Russian caught it as it exploded. Shrapnel tore into his suit and ripped it to shreds, but the skin underneath the clothes was unaffected.

Flag ran past Deadshot and motioned for him to follow him. Bronze Tiger and Bolshoi were fighting off to their side.

"Let's change dance partners. Tiger, you're with me. Deadshot, Bolshoi is all yours."

Turner landed a kick to the young man's ribs before he turned and ran towards Flag. Bolshoi gave chase, but slid on the ice as Deadshot stepped in front of him.

"I am trained in all forms of combat," Bolshoi boasted in broken English. "Karate, Tia Kwan Do, Jujitsu, even Brazilian and Israeli martial arts. All my training, that man was the only one who could rival me. You think you are better?"

"Yeah," Lawton said, aiming his gun gauntlets at Bolshoi. He let loose with his guns, racking bullets up and down Bolshoi's body. The young man fell to the snow, smoke drifting off the bullet holes in his chest. Lawton stood over him and looked down. "My guns just beat all that bull****."

"Rawwr!" Blockbuster yelled out a hundred feet to Lawton's right. He was fighting Hammer one-armed, and struck the man with his fist. The large Russian recoiled from the blow and crashed into a tree. Blockbuster went on the offensive, grabbing Hammer by the head and slinging him into the air. Hammer bounced off trees like a pinball and landed to the ground with a hard thump. Blockbuster reached into the snow and picked Hammer's weapon off the ground.

Farther off in the battle, Nightshade struck Sickle in the face with her fist and tackled the woman to the ground. The two women tussled in the snow and Nightshade reeled back in pain, there was a deep gash on her upper left arm from Sickle's weapon. Sickle pounced, driving Nightshade into the snow and raised her sickle up to strike. Nightshade twisted her body around and caught Sickle's wrist mid-strike and stopped the sharp blade just inches away from her face.

Bronze Tiger leaped in front of Stalnovolk, easily dodging his lumbering strikes. The big Russian growled as Bronze Tiger delivered a quick blow to his kidneys.

"You cannot hurt me, black!" He grunted as he swung. "I am having skin like steel!"

Tuner slid underneath Stalnovolk's legs and climbed the large man like a tree, wrapping his legs around the Russian's thick neck.

"Let's see how hardened your eyes are," Tiger said, driving his thumbs into Stalnovolk's sockets. The big man screamed and shook, trying to sling Turner off of him. Turner felt the right eye of Stalnovok pop and squirt on to his gloved hands. The Russian fell to the ground, wriggling in pain as Turner jumped away.

Zastrow began to feel nervous as the fight wore on, his initial joy turning to dread. Two members of the People's Heroes were down, while the Americans fought on. Flag aimed and shot Sickle through the neck. She collapsed on top of Nightshade, her sickle sticking into the snow. Now, three of the Russian heroes were down and Zastrow was worried.

Flag and Deadshot turned their attention to Molotov, who was chasing after Vertigo. The two men let loose into Molotov with their weapons, only to have the absorb into his fat rolls.

"It is useless, stupid Americans" Molotov chided as he turned his attention to them. "Molotov takes your bullets and makes them go boom."

"Lawton, change your ammo. Incendiary rounds."

Deadshot flicked a button on his gauntlets and let loose on Molotov, striking him in the stomach and catching his body on fire.

"No!" He screamed out as the flames engulfed him. "Nooo!" With a bright flash, the Russian went up in a fiery explosion.

Hammer was back on the attack, charging towards Blockbuster. Blockbuster growled and swung the hammer at its owner, striking Hammer in the jaw and dropping him to the ground. The blonde man fell into the snow with a loud thud, he was unconscious almost immediately.

Bolshoi was bullet ridden, Stalnovolk was missing an eye, Molotov was ashes, Sickle had a hole in her neck, and Hammer had a shattered jaw and concussion. The People's Heroes were down.

"No," Zastrow spat out. "No!"

The small man pulled a pistol from his coat and aimed for Flag.

BLAM!

Zastrow fell to the ground, a bullet hole in his chest. The team turned and saw Amanda Waller and Sarge Steel standing on the wreckage of their train, a rifle was in Steel's hands.

"We need to get out of here," Waller said, holding her head as she talked. Sarge reached into the train and helped pull Calculator out of the derailed car. "Backup is probably on its way. I'm authorizing our contingency plan. Let's move out."

The team marched a mile through the woods, heading west towards the Pacific Ocean, which was still nearly 500 kilometers away. Steel tended to the stump of Blockbuster's arm while Waller and Flag looked east towards where they had come from.

"Ready when you are," Flag said, a detonator in his hands.

"Do it."

Flag pressed the detonator and heard the beep as it sent out its signal.

Ninety Minutes Earlier

Flag, Turner, and Vertigo went to work on the boxcar while the train was stopped. They placed Semtex on the boxcar's axel, on the sides, and on the roof. Steel and Waller were placing the plastic explosives on the passenger car while Deadshot and Blockbuster made sure the engine had plenty of plastique attached to it.

"It's good enough," Waller said. "Just remember, this is a backup plan only. Just in case it all hits the fan."

Now

The team watched as their train went up in a massive fireball, destroying the cars as well as the alien aircraft they had invaded Russia to steal.

"It's done. We may not get the UFO out of Russia, but you can damn sure bet the Chinese ain't getting it now."

Waller looked around at the team. They were all bruised, bloody, and burnt. One was even a limb lighter than he had been when this mission started out.

"Alright, we still got an evac to get to. 500 kilometers of Russian tundra to fight across. Sooner we get started, sooner we're out of here or...dead. Let's get going."

Carnage27

12-14-2011, 07:03 PM

Cyborg

They came without warning. The ceiling of the Authority's mansion explodes in a ball of fire and sound. From the gaping hole, drop a slew of genetically enhanced soldiers, led by a man in a shining costume. He blasts lasers from his eyes towards me, and I roll out of the way, pushing Jenny Quantum towards Sparks, "Get her out of here!"

I sprint quickly, sliding underneath a punch from a man that seems to have cybernetic implants like me. Looks like Stormwatch didn't waste any time using the technology that built me on others. I reach my weapons and quickly attach my sonic cannon to one arm and an energy blade to the other. I turn and fire a shockwave into a group of enemy soldiers, sending them flying through the air.

"How dare you," the man in the yellow and white costume growls at me. "We made you what you are today. We gave you a life better than anyone could have ever done. We made you a god!"

He throws another blast of energy my way, and I fire another blast from my canon, deflecting the energy and pushing the attacker back, "No. You stole my life. You made me into something that's only half human and erased me from existence. And for that, I'm going to kill you all."

"I'd like to see you try," he smiles.

"Gladly," I reply, igniting my energy blade and rushing towards him.

Batman

12-14-2011, 08:53 PM

http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/4810/catwomanredo.png

"---issued a public statement this morning, following a two week investigation into an incident involving disgruntled former police Inspector Edward Nygma, who was outed to the press as a corrupt---"
*CLKK*

"---responsible for several counts of homicide, including the recently missing socialite Katherine Kane, the accused mobster Salvatore Maroni, Maroni's missing son Umberto, and two officers in Nygma's own unit---"
*CLKK*

"---includes District Attorney Dent and his fiancee, Gilda Gold, who watched their home engulfed in flames with the DA's fiancee trapped inside, resulting in hospitalization for severe burns. We now learn that Nygma admitted to the crime while under interrogation with Internal---"
*CLKK*

"---missioner James Gordon, who recently returned to active duty after laying dormant following a devastating attack that rid him comatose for four months, was not availible for comment at the---"
*CLKK*

"---list of Nygma's victims was finally revealed today after rampant speculation indicated foul play in several of the city's---"
*CLKK*

"---criminal charges will not be pursued, as Nygma suffered a devastating gunshot wound to the head after attempting to flee authorities in the---"
*CLKK*

"---now resides in an undisclosed location out of the city, following permnanent brain damage that has left him---"
*CLKK!*

I can't take it anymore.

After going through every major station I have and seeing that same damn report, I finally work up the nerve to shut the thing off and toss it aside, staring blankly at the black screen as my mind races with thoughts and memories. Edward Nygma - who helped me hide a body after I was forced to kill a man - who I once actually made love to in a fit of regret and sorrow - and who promptly tossed me aside after I rejected his advances and swore to make me regret it. And who once helped Batman save my life. That same ariticulate man is now rotting away in some asylum, barely able to function like a human being. I can hardly believe my ears.

Suppose I should feel more sorry for him than I do. It's not like we parted ways on a terrible note, he was actually apologetic for his actions the last time I ever saw him, at some cocktail party I was attending. Before that, we knew eachother as colleagues, then knew eachother as something else after the night that Umberto Maroni tried to rape me. I'll never forget the look on his face after he was done hacking away at the body, that hollow look behind his eyes that said he had just committed one of the most terrible things imaginable.

God. And now that man's turned out to be such a...

A bastard.

That poor Kane woman. Those cops. The Dents. And...

Maroni. Salvatore Maroni, the man that I worked my ass off for two straights years as 'Holly Robinson' to bring down. The man that tried to kill me, even after I was forced to share the same bed with him. I let him do things to me that no man should ever have been allowed to, just for the sake of watching him fry whenever I collected the evidence.

After all of that, after all of the ways he ruined my life, I never got the chance to repay him in kind. When he died and that chance was robbed, I let my demons go and decided to become something else. Someone else.

And all of this time, the reason I couldn't do it was Nygma?!

My fingers bury themselves deeper into the leather of the couch, as I feel myself becoming increasingly more enraged by the thought. That terrible man who did all of those horrible things to so many others, who took away the only thing that ever meant a damn thing to me, and he gets off without so much as a slap on the wrist for it! Now he's just lying around in some hospital, brain damaged and unable to ever pay. Unable to ever suffer for the unfathomable crimes that he committed.

I could scream. I honestly could. There's no such thing as justice, and this proves it. Nygma gets outed as a killer and I'm left to do nothing but stop and stare. If I could only dig my claws into the bastard's face, get him to react to it no matter how big the hole in his head is, I'd...

Okay, Selina. Stop right there, you've vented enough. Just breathe. Just...

"GODDAMMIT!"

Unable to be content with telling myself it'll be okay, I leap up from the couch and grab a nearby clock that I snatched from the Grissom estate, bawling it into my palm and slamming it against the wall with an effortless toss. I want to break everything around me. Tear this entire place apart, just to make myself feel better. My eyes peer over to the furniture, then wildly advance towards the wine cabinent. So many options.

"hh...Selina? What was that noise?"

Even through grit teeth and sweat that boils, I manage to let it all fade whenever Arizona walks into the room, holding her stuffed Batman toy close as she gives me a worried expression. I don't know what it is, whether it's her wide-eyed innocence or the fact that I remember being her age and seeing much worse, knowing what it did to me, but all I can do is walk over and kneel down on the ground, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, honey. I swear, I didn't mean to wake you."

She seems confused by the embrace, staring back at the wall that was hit with the clock and noticing a dent.

"There's a hole in the wall."

I look back at her and nod.

"I know there is, Ari. I know. I'll try and get it fixed in the morning, okay?"

There's no hesitation to notice in her as she asks.

"Why were you yelling?"

Damn.

"Oh,"

I brush my hair behind my ear, trying to think up a good excuse. But all I can think of the mental image of thrusting my whip against Nygma's face, and watching the devastating effects as it cracks. I suppose that isn't the healthiest way to say to a seven-year-old.

"Well, okay, see... when grown-ups get mad, they sometimes get clumsy. And I just saw something on TV that made me so mad that I tripped over the table and knocked something into the wall."

She blinks, unsure if she believes that.

"Okay. Here's an example. You know your cartoons? The one with the cat and the mouse?"

Suddenly, she smiles wide.

"Tom and Jerry!"

"Right. Tom and Jerry. Well, sometimes, the cat gets so mad at the mouse that he slips over something and falls, right?"

She giggles. "Yeah! He falls down on the ground and hits things! He's funny!"

"Exactly! That's what I did, Ari. I just slipped and fell, that's all."

"Oh. Okay, Selina."

She yawns, as I take Batman from her and gently place my hand on her shoulder, guiding her back towards the bedroom.

"How about we go and get you back to sleep, kiddo. You look like you could use it."

"Are you going to bed too, Selina?"

I look back at the clock. Not gonna be sunrise for another few hours.

Gives me time to work off all of my frustrations in quite a number of ways.

"Maybe, honey. We'll see..."

Byrd Man

12-14-2011, 10:49 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Previously

Aurora, Oregon

Lash, wearing only a pair of jeans, is on the air mattress with his hands tied together behind back with a zip tie. Lash's girlfriend Proud Feather is restrained in the same manner.

I'm beside them, looking through the provisions they had stored in the house. Clothes, canned food, a pump-action shotgun, and a box of shells and that's it.

"Where's Red Crow's money, Lash?"

"It's not Red Crow's money, friend. It's all mine, won it fairly."

"The hell you say. You're a card cheat."

"Counting cards is perfectly legal, albeit frowned upon by most gaming establishments. It's not cheating. It's using the game's flaws to your advantage."

"Uh-huh. Ya'll can tell that to Red Crow when he strings you up by neck..."

"Listen, Mister..."

"Hex."

"Mister Hex. If I show you were the money is, will you let me go?"

"That ain't part of the deal. I bring in you, the girl, and the money. It's a package deal."

I walk back into the room where Lash and Proud Feather are sitting and look down at them. I reach into my boot and pull out my Bowie knife.

"My patience is starting to run thin. Now tell me where the goddamn money is."

"Tell him already!" Proud Feather hisses.

"Soon as we tell him, we're as good as dead. Both of us. You think Red Crow won't skin you alive because you're an Indian? You're sorely mistaken. Look, Mister Hex, how much is Red Crow paying you? Can't be much."

"It's enough."

"Look...after we left Prairie Rose, we hit up a few of the other casinos in South Dakota, even made a quick pit-stop in Vegas. I got over a hundred grand stashed. You let us go, I'll split it with you."

I look down a Lash and slowly shake my head.

"No can do. Won't find much work if word gets around I betray the folks who hire me."

A car door shuts outside and I turn away from Lash. I walk down the hallway to the front window, peering out at the silver Lexus parked behind my truck. Dammit. They must have followed me close enough to find Aurora. Shouldn't have been hard enough to find out I was here if they asked around.

The big, pierced Indian, Shunka, leads three of his buddies up to the front door of the house. Shunka knocks on the door and waits. I walk up to the door, pulling out my gun.

"Who's there?" I ask.

"Open up, Hex," Shunka says from outside. "We come to collect Lash and Proud Feather."

"I seem to recall collectin' them was my job..."

"Red Crow thought you might need help."

"Well, I have things well under control. No need to intervene."

"I don't think you understand me, ***hole. We're collecting that ****ing card cheater and his whore. Now open the goddamn door."

"You give me my money, and I'll hand them over."

"We got it out here, Hex. Come and get it. It's all the money Red Crow promised you and then some. He's so goddamn happy, he gave you a raise."

"Alright, let me go get Lash and Proud Feather."

I walk back through the house where Lash and Proud Feather are. He's laying on the floor, struggling against his bonds.

"Get the hell up!" I growl, jerking him to his feet. "This money you got stashed, is it safe?"

"Safe enough."

"That's gonna have to do. Those sons of *****es outside are about to **** me over, I can feel it. You get ****ed over as much as I have, you develop a sense for these things."

I holster my gun and walk over to the pump, picking it up and racking a load into the barrel.

"Both of you find cover and hide right now. Body parts and bullets are about to be flying."

I lean against the wall, the shotgun pressed against me. The doorknob rattles and the front door comes off it hinges. A pissed off Indian comes through the door, a sub-machine gun in his hands. He turns the corner and starts firing. Bullets whiz over my head and I roll to my right, coming to a stop on my heels. I squeeze trigger and spray the Indian with buckshot, knocking him back.

I rack another load, ejecting the smoking shell from the chamber. A window breaks to my right and a hand holding a shotgun pokes through the glass. I hit the deck as a shell explodes from the shotgun barrel. Buckshot grazes my face, the scarred side, and knocks my hat off my head. Laying flat on my stomach, I blast two rounds into the window. The shooter screams out and pulls away from the window.

I pump another shell into the chamber, only for it to come up empty. Dropping the gun and swearing, I pull the .45 from the small of my back just as another Indian comes through the front door. This one has an Uzi in his hands, but he falls to the floor after I kneecap him with two quick pistol rounds.

Three down, one to go.

"Where are ya, Shunka, ya piece of s***?"

"Right here, whiteboy," Shunka says from behind. He tackles me to the floor and drives my head into the hardwood floor. I wrestle with the big Indian, getting the advantage when I drive my knee into his stomach. He gasps out in pain and I cut his gasps short as I wrap my hand around his neck. Holding him in place with one hand, I grab his eyebrow ring with the other hand and twist. He yowls out as I yank out his piercing, taking a part of his eyebrow and a good chunk of meat with the ring.

The pain sends the big man into a rage, he breaks out of my hold and picks me up into the air, slamming me to the floor. The wind rushes out of my lungs and I gasp for air. While I'm recovering, Shunka picks my .45 off the floor and aims for my head.

BLAM!

Shunka stumbles back, a bullet in his shoulder. At the end of the room is Lash, broken free from my restraints and with a smoking 9MM in his hands. Shunka recovers from the shot and aims at Lash, but not before I cut his legs out from under him with a quick swipe. Shunka falls to the floor and I pounce on him, punching him in the ribs and breaking one free. I knee him in the balls to make sure he stays down, and pick myself up off the floor.

"Your boys are hurt, some seriously," I say, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from my brow. I touch the scratches on my face where the buckshot grazed me. It's bleeding, but little more than flesh wound. "You collect them, go get your medicine man and your firewater, and go back to your wigwams. Lash and the woman are going free."

"**** you, mother****er," Shunka growls, holding on to his balls and groaning. "You're the one who better run! You gonna have the ****ing Sioux Nation after you!"

"The Sioux Nation wants my head?" I ask, sucking my teeth. "Well, ya'll better take a number and get in line behind the Aryan Brotherhood, the Dixie Mafia, half the street gangs in LA, and the Church of Latter Day Saints."

"**** you, you ugly son of a *****! Next time I see you, I'll make both sides of your face look like dog s***!"

That pushes me over the edge. I kick Shunka in the side, right where the broken rib is, and pull out my Bowie knife. I shove his face to the floor and grab hold of his left ear. The blade of my knife cuts through his ear. A few seconds later, I pull back a red skinned ear, leaving a bloody mess on the side of Shunka's head. He rolls on the ground in pain as I hold his ear up for Lash to see.

"Next time I see you, Shunka, I'll be sure to even up your head. Tell Red Crow that Lash and the woman are going free, and you're getting your money back."

I kick Shunka in the ribs and hold his severed ear to my mouth.

"You hear what I'm saying, ***hole?"

******

I pull my truck to the side of the road and let it idle behind Lash's car. He's in the driver's seat with Proud Feather in the passenger seat. The state line into Washington is just a half mile away.

"Canada is a few hours drive from here," I say as I walk up to Lash's window. "Red Crow has pull in the Midwest and out here, but I doubt he has anybody up north."

"We were thinking of Vancouver."

Lash reaches into the back and pulls out a stack of bills. He hands them to me. All told, it's a little over thirty thousand.

"There'd be more if we'd split it two ways."

"Red Crow hired me to deliver the money and the two of you. Feel like I should at least come through on one of those. Red Crow is a son of a *****, but you're a goddamn card cheat. I call that a wash."

"Well, thanks, I guess."

"Don't thank me," I say, spitting into the dirt. "Red Crow hadn't have double crossed me, I would be bringing you two back to South Dakota. Just be thankful he's more an ***hole than you."

"You sure got a way with words, friend," Lash says with a smile.

"Get the hell outta here before I change my mind."

Lash puts the car in gear and starts to roll away before I hold my hand up.

"Lash," I say, tilting my hat back. "I ever get hired to take you in again, I ain't gonna hesitate to do it. Furthermore, I'll **** you up so bad, it'll make what I did to Shunka look like a kiss on the cheek. I being clear?"

Lash gulps and nods. "Crystal."

With that, he pulls off and speeds off down the road. I watch, the money in my hands. Despite my warnings...I got a funny feeling I ain't seen the last of Bartholomew Lash.

Mr. Majestic

12-15-2011, 05:34 AM

“Burn? I don’t think so. Get ready to bleed.”

“What?”

I head bunt him in his face smashing his glasses and his nose. He falls backward holds his face as I make my way to the young girl. I grab her in my arm and reach into my belt and drop leave a little girt.

“Since you like to play with fire how bout you play with theses.”

We jump out of the window as the room explodes and I shot my grappling hook to swing to safety.

“Midnighter are you there? Been trying to reach you for 20 minutes now, this is not cool. There is a reason why we have these communication devices, it’s to communicate. Come on dude where are you?”

“I’m right here.” I announce to Lonnie as he didn’t realize I had been standing behind him for some time now.

“Holy crap dude are you trying to make me mess up my draws? You really need to stop doing that. So where have you been man? Made sure the girl got home safe?”

“Uh-huh” I simply reply as take my cowl off from my face and begin to remove my cape.

http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/5100/mn108.jpg

“Were you able to get what you wanted?”

“Not at all, he got away before I could place a tracker on him. Doesn’t matter though because I done chasing the middle man, it’s time to go right to the source.”

While ago I and Lonnie found out that a group known as the league of Spiders where behind the kidnappings but from what we have learned about them none of this fits their regular dealings. So we have been going after anyone who clams to be working for them. But now it is time for us to stop worrying about the nobodies.

“Thanks to Jason Teague, Lucas Trent will be going to China at the end of the week to show companies what new technology Teague Industry has to offer. But Midnighter will be making appearance tomorrow.”

“So what time are we leaving?”

“We are not, you are going to stay here because I have a job for you.”

Recently my battle precognition has been showing me nothing but combat situations on how to kill my opponents. In the beginning it wasn’t like this. Fighting those kidnappers I found myself with the urge to kill and I know it not me thinking like that.

“My mom’s research I need for you to dig deeper into what it was really for. Do whatever needs to be done to obtain the information.”

“What’s the problem man? Starting to lose the ability to flash Chuck?”

“I’m starting to lose control the further I use the battle precognition the more and more my body starts to act on its own. I’m afraid if I continue to use it I will cross a line I can’t come back from.”

“No problem man I’ll do what needs to be done. Till then what’s the plan?”

“Get some rest and go home. Tomorrow we have work to do.”

MST3K 4ever

12-15-2011, 11:30 AM

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/penguinbanneredit.jpg

Oswald is sitting at the head of his conference table as the last of the members enters.

He crosses to the door and closes it. Oswald says, "Ladies and gentlemen I bring you news from the hospital. Though the good Doctor Fox is saying there is no major changes in Mr. Wayne's condition I happen to know that there is a substantial change."

Oswald fixes a drink and takes a swig. He then says, "Mr. Wayne is in a coma."

He crosses back to the table and sits down. Oswald says, " Things are getting most interesting. Comas are so difficult to deal with and cause great anxiety. Again more opportunity one that I was quite willing to talk to the Mayor about."

Oswald takes another swig and says, "That is another bridge to cross on another day. What I need from each of you. Good Ol' fashioned chaos. Fighting in the streets, shoot outs and things of that nature. Things that will bring the city to a point of being over-whelmed."

One of them asks, "Why not just give some of the guns to the gang-bangers, and let them have a good time?"

Oswald slams the drink down and yells, "NO!"

He re-composes himself and says, "Forgive me my friends. One of the reasons I associate and do business with you all is because none of you, at this time, do things that harm or try attention to teenagers. That is my only true rule which will not be broken."

Oswald begins to pace around the table and says, "Those of you who deal in drugs don't go near schools, nothing in terms of child pornongraphy, and no guns to gangs. None of you have ever broken those rules and I thank and respect you for that. That is one line I will not cross. Any of you cross it I will use all my resources to track you down and destroy you. Am I clear?"

Everyone nods or says, "Yes sir."

Oswald replies, "Excellent. Besides you all are creative enough to do this without relying on such base tactics."

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/penguinbanneredit.jpg

Oswald leans back and says, "Now in order for this to work we have to target a very specific area. Namely the entire city, however I want a good chunk of the attacks on main street."

Boss Edwards asks, "Isn't it kind of risky operating like that in public?"

Oswald takes a drag and says, "No my friend. It is very risky! However it shows how brazen you are and that you are not afraid of the local law enforcement. Without Wayne in the picture, who happens to own a majority of the main street properties. Further driving down the stock prices, and thus leading the city to a crisis point."

Everyone nods and Oswald says, "Now this will take sometime to develop, and Thorne still has to play his part. If it all works out by then end of the spring Wayne Enterprises will become Cobblepot Industires."

He looks at the table and says, "And of course you will be the beneficiaries as well."

Andy C.

12-15-2011, 10:18 PM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

St. Amabilis's Cathedral. An old derelict church left to crumble in one of Gotham's older districts, its congregation left it behind for greener pastures decades ago. Today its intricate stained-glass windows are shattered frames, its stone serpent-headed gargoyles and statues either overgrown with weeds or defaced by neighborhood vandals. It's been condemned for years, but no one has bothered to tear it down.

And it's where I've managed to track Sebastian and his followers. Using my uplink to Oracle to hack into the city's traffic cameras, I was able to find footage of the specific van that they took Rachel in, and followed from camera to camera, until it led me here.

I park the Bat-cycle behind the abandoned office building next door and carefully approach the cathedral. I spot the van parked in the back, but everyone seems to have already moved inside. Once I'm sure the coast is clear, I pull out the new grapnel-gun and fire onto one of the flying buttresses along the side of the old gothic building. The grappling claw shoots upwards with barely a whisper--at least compared to the noisy gas-powered gun I had as Redbird--and I'm actually caught off-guard by how powerful the winch is as it pulls me up.

Once I've got my footing, I look in through one of the old broken windows....

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about!" says Rachel, struggling against the leather straps they've used to tie her down to a stone alter where the pulpit used to be. I can see visible bruises on her body, where the cloaked men apparently held her down and forced her into the black leotard-like costume she's now wearing. "You're all crazy! This cult of yours is psychotic! Let me go!!!"

"DORUMA....EXONUS....ATHULA...." the monks chant in unison.

"I don't believe in any of this!" Rachel protests, her bared legs squirming, a look of furious indignation on her face. "I'm not the one you're looking for!"

"Oh, but you are, my bride," I hear Sebastian say, somewhere in the shadows of the cathedral where I can't see. "I was there when we marked your mother, I helped your father cross into this world to claim her."

"KARAMA.....TYLIUS.....ORONA...." the monks continue.

"What are you talking about?!" Rachel says. "My father--"

"--founded this order thousands of years ago," Sebastian said. "Trigon the Infernal, the slayer of the Nephilim, the rightful heir to the throne of Perdition. My master and lord. And your father."

"You're insane," Rachel spits.

"Your mother wanted to protect you from her ways; Arella wanted to save you from your own destiny. But this was always inevitable. You were promised to me before your birth, to be my Bride in Blood. You are a child of the worlds of men and of demons, and you will serve as the key that opens the door to Trigon's prison and loose him upon the world!"

"AZARATH.....METREON.....ZINTHOS!" the monks chanting reaches its crescendo.

"I swear to God I'll AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Out of the stone of the altar, a cloud of what looks like living shadow bursts forward, enveloping Rachel whole. As she screams, I can see her eyes glowing red, and what appear to be a second set of glowing red eyes above them.

I have no idea what to do, how to stop this. I don't even know what it is they're doing.

Once the air has left Rachel's lungs, she draws in another breath, and seems to suck in the cloud of shadow with it. Her body freezes still, eyes still red and shining.

"You have been awakened, my Bride," Sebastian says. "But before we pierce your heart and set your father free, I believe I shall take what has been promised to me."

I may not know what just happened, but I can guess at what he means by that. And I'll be damned if I let that happen.

I throw a flash-bomb down through the window, blinding the robed cultists before leaping down and thrashing them one by one.

"Enough," I say, standing in front of the altar where Raven is tied down. "Whatever you think you're doing, I'm putting a stop to it before--"

I'm cut off by some kind of bolt of energy that strikes me in the chest. I'm sent flying back, crashing into a broken statue of a snake wrapped around a cross. As I try to stand, I feel like my strength has been pulled right out of me.

"Foolish boy," Sebastian says, stepping out of the shadows. "You cannot stop the inevitable...."

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/BrotherBlood.jpg

"Brother Blood will not be denied."

MST3K 4ever

12-16-2011, 01:18 PM

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Pete Ross sits at his desk looking around to see if there is any sign of The Atom.

Just then there is a knock at his door and he opens it. His secretary is standing there and says, "Mr. Ross Rhiannon Palmer is here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment and I..."

Pete interrupts, "It's okay Beverly I'll see her."

Beverly ushers Rhiannon into Pete's office and as he closes the door he says, "No interruptions Beverly phone call take a message, appointment cancel and reschedule."

He closes the door as both of them sit down and Pete says, "I thought you were taking the phone line right to here."

Rhiannon replies, "I figured we should talk without my mask."

Pete nods and says, "Fair enough. Explain yourself."

Rhiannon asks, "What is there to explain?"

Pete rolls his eyes and says, "Oh I don't know let's see blackmailing a Government Agent with classified material, destroying a Government Facility, and now nearly killing someone. What is going on with you Rhiannon?"

Rhiannon replies, "I'm doing these things in the name of justice Pete, but it's for me. I fight for for everyone else and complete strangers but when I want justice for me suddenly I'm a villain? Are you kidding me Pete?"

Pete says, "Again you're confusing revenge with justice Rhiannon! You of all people should realize that revenge is not going to ever be justifiable. You are coming dangerously close to becoming out of control. You need to come to grips with yourself and realize that what you're doing has nothing to do with you. I can understand some of this, but you almost killing someone Rhiannon? That is out of control. Why do you want to use your powers?"

Rhiannon says, "To help and protect others."

Pete says, "And what does that say about your recent actions? Where is the help and protection in your selfishness? I realize that the psycho in the armor was terrorizing others but you had him down and out and you were ready to kill him Rhiannon. I think you need to know that in all the years your mother served with us she only pulled her service revolver a handful of times and rarely ever fired it."

Rhiannon is now listening fully as Pete says, "She had plenty of justifications but she never went for them. Deadly force was something she avoided even when her own life was on the line. I know that things are complex for you, but if you don't pull yourself together and soon I cannot continue to support you and I will lead the task force against you."

Pete leans back in his chair and says, "You're coming dangerously close to being what Waller was hoping for. Is that what you want?"

Rhiannon thinks for a moment and says, "Pete things are more complex now than you know. I was gone for about 36 hours and something happened to me. Something that even I can't believe and I lived it."

Pete says, "So talk to me."

Rhiannon replies, "I can't it's too...too bizarre even for me. Just know that I hear what you're saying and it makes sense and I promise I'll be more mindful in the future of myself and my feelings."

Pete says, "You are carrying a heavy load inside you. Something is weighing you down. You need to talk to someone and I think I can help you there."

Rhiannon asks, "And who is that?"

Pete replies, "Before I came to get you I was in a press briefing and it was another reason I called you but Steel-Jacket screwed that up."

Pete presses a button on his phone and says, "Okay Beverly it's time use the conference side door."

Just a minute later there is a knock and Pete ushers Rhiannon to answer and standing there is her mother.

Rhiannon closes her eyes and embraces her. She says, "Please tell me this isn't another quick visit."

Alice replies, "No they found me on a deserted island you missed the press briefing where I was declared alive. I'm back Rhiannon."

Rhiannon embraces her tighter and says, "I need you mom. I need to talk."

Alice says, "I know Rhiannon. I'm here you can tell me anything."

Rhiannon looks at Pete and says, "Waller must be furious."

Pete says, "Yeah but like I told you she's damaged goods. She is scared of you two she's out of the picture. It was her resignation that sped up the process. Waller is burned forget about her, because she is no longer your concern. We'll handle her from here."

Rhiannon says to her mom, "Please not here. My apartment okay?"

She nods and as they get ready to leave Alice embraces Pete and says, "Thank you for everything Pete. I'll take her from here."

Pete replies, "You're welcome. Glad you're back among the living and I know she's in good hands now."

They depart Pete's office and arrive at Rhiannon's apartment and once the settle in Rhiannon says, "All I ask is that you keep an open mind, because this is not like anything I've ever told you."

MST3K 4ever

12-16-2011, 01:23 PM

double post D'oh!

Byrd Man

12-16-2011, 01:26 PM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

I struggle against the iron grip of my attacker, rubbing my hands against his arm to create friction. He just laughs and tightens his grip.

"You cannot burn what is already burnt! You can run, little man, but can you fly?"

Just like that, I'm airborne. Central and Keystone are spinning and twirling below me, getting tinier and tinier. I finally stop climbing into the air, a few thousand feet above the city, and begin my descent towards the ground.

"Oh, God....this is gonna hurt..."

I tumble towards the Earth, picking up speed as the ground rushes up to meet me. I point my arms towards the ground and start to spin them clockwise, generating gusts of wind that slow me down until I softly land on the street.

"Ha! That wasn't so ba-"

WHAM!

The demon guy tackles me, flames licking his hands and arms. We fly through the air and come down in the parking lot of Central City Steelworks.

"Burn!"

My attacker shoves his flaming hand into my face, but I vibrate my body so fast that I phase through the devil and get behind him. I deliver a super-speed punch to his kidney and cause the demon to grunt out in pain. He reaches up and tosses me into the air. I spin like a rag doll and crash through the wall of the steel mill, right inside the foundry. Molten steel is melted down and poured just a few feet from where I land.I crawl on the floor, giving my body time to recover from the blow I just took. I reach my hand out and a black leather dress shoe stomps on it.

"C'mon, dude!"

He picks me up by the necks and holds me up above him, the flames on his hand burning my neck.

"Now you will feel the burn of the demon!"

Time seems to slow down to a crawl as the devil uses his free hand to conjure a fireball in his palm. I look around for a way to escape. I can phase out of his grip, but we're too close for me to get away, even as fast as I am. I need a way to beat him...

There.

Above my head, there's a button that controls the bucket above our heads. I reach out while the devil's fireball moves towards me super-slow. Gritting my teeth, I reach up and slam the button as hard as I can. An alarm rings out and the bucket upends itself, pouring molten steel down on both of us.

I vibrate my body and let the steel phase through me, while the demon takes the brunt of it. He screams out in pain as the steel coats his face and horns. He drops me as he recoils in pain.

"Looks like you can get burned!"

Reaching back with my fist, I hit him in the jaw with a punch that breaks the sound barrier. He flies off his feet and crashes into the foundry pit, screaming in agony as he climbs out of the pit, covered in red hot steel ore.

He crawls on the ground in front of me and moans, the cooling steel coating his body. After a minute, he's still and the liquid metal is cool, encasing the demon in a prison of pure steel.

I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. Cops and the fire department are coming. He's all theirs.

******

IC: Jesse Quick

I walk inside Dad's study to look for my laptop. Even though I've gotten used to seeing all the awards and trophies he has hung up, it's still a sight to see.

College awards, All-American honors, two national championships, his Heisman, and all his NFL trophies are all here. I stop and stare at the three NFL MVP awards hanging on the wall. They're right above the Super Bowl rings. Rumor is he's getting another MVP award, and maybe another ring. At 43, he'd be one of the oldest quarterbacks to win both.

"Jesse?" He calls out, leaning his head into the study.

"Looking for my computer, dad. Thought I left it in here."

"I didn't see it when I was in here this morning. How was school, sweetie?"

"Fine, I got Calculus homework. Wally invited me over to his house for dinner tonight, is that alright?"

"Yeah, just don't make a habit of it. We need to have him and his family over for dinner sometime. I like his big brother, skinny little guy cracks me up."

Dad smiles and walks off. I follow behind him and go through the house, looking for me computer. The doorbell rings and Dad calls out that he's going to answer it. I find my laptop in the living room and head off to my room when I hear the sound of raised voices coming from the front door.

Padding to the front of the house, I hear Dad and some guy arguing.

"Look, pal, I don't know what you want!"

"You know what we want, Quick. We want the formula. We know you got it. Give it to us, and there won't be any problems. Keep playing coy and who knows what might happen. We might tell the press your dirty little secret...or worse."

"What are you trying to say?!"

"Oh, nothing. Just you know how hard it is being a single parent. Can't watch your kid all the time, am I right?"

Dad curses at the man as the door shuts. Footsteps start coming down the hall. I take off and bound up the stairs to my room. Once I'm on the second floor, I lean against the wall and listen as Dad starts to break down and cry.

Mom walks out of the kitchen with two boxes of pizza in her arms.

"Dinner's served. Enjoy, I slaved over a hot Pizza Hut counter for ten minutes, waiting on them to give me my order."

Dinnertime at the Allen house. She puts the pizza on the table and we start to all divvy it up, Dad and I go for the supreme while everyone else gets pepperoni.

"So how was work today, Bart?" Dad asks as he sprinkles extra cheese on his pizza.

"No shop talk at the table," Mom says sternly. "Especially in front of company."

"It's okay, Mrs. Allen," Jesse says with a shrug. "I don't mind."

"It's not that, Jesse, it's just that this is the first night of the week we've all been together. Bart's been on call almost every night, and Mr. Allen's had to go back to work more than a few times every night. I just want us to enjoy each other, and not bring police work into it."

"It's fine, Mom. I understand."

We all eat in silence for several minutes before Mom sighs.

"Fine...what happened today, Bart?"

"Don't know if I should say, since it's all part of an ongoing investigation...but seriously, somebody robbed Keystone First National Bank, it was crazy..."

******

After dinner, I head up to my room. It's dark, but I may be able to check out if there's any trouble happening around Central and Keystone. I pass by Wally's room and hear muffled voices. I try to hurry on, I really don't want to hear him and Jesse making out, but I stop when I hear crying.

"What happened?" Wally asks. I lean against the door to listen in.

"There...were these men at the door today," Jesse says between gasps. "They threatened him, wanting some formula...My dad said he didn't...didn't know what they were talking about. They said they would tell the media about something he did, or hurt me. I don't know what to do, Wally!"

Wally tries to comfort her, trying to calm her down.

"Why don't we tell me dad?"

"No, I can't have my father getting in trouble!"

"He's a cop, Jesse. Whatever you dad may have done, blackmail is worse. He'll see that."

"I don't know...he could still arrest my dad if it's bad enough....what about the Flash?"

"What about him?"

"You're part of his fan club, reach out to him!"

"I just help run his Facebook fan page. Even then, two other guys help me."

"Send him a message, then. Tell him he's important. He'll find a way to help, I know it."

"Alright...I still say going to the cops if the best option."

I hear Wally get off his bed and walk towards his computer. I creep into my room and make a beeline for my computer. Wally's post is right there on the Flash fan page.

Flash, need help ASAP. Please contact.

I walk over to my bed and put my computer down on it before I walk to my closet and dig through the mess in the back, pulling out the red suit and boots.

Time to find out what's exactly going on with Johnny Quick.

Carnage27

12-18-2011, 12:11 PM

Boy Blue
~No Place Like Home~
Part 4

After a three day journey, Bufkin, Cindy, the Winkie, and I reach a castle hidden deep within the Vinkus Mountains. Cindy gasps as she looks upon the foreboding keep with it's strong walls and tall parapets, "Kiamo Ko. The Witch's keep."

"Indeed," Buf says with a smile on his face. "This was once my home as well. Elphaba stayed here during the rebellion." He then turns to the Winkie that has led us here, "It makes sense for a resistance to meet here."

"Rebellion?" I ask confused. I've always known Oz was a land of conflict. It's said the Wizard, its current leader, killed the previous royal family and sent Ozma, a current resident of Fabletown into exile. And then, during the Rise of the Wicked Witches, the Wizard was protecting his people from evil. "But I thought the Wicked Witches were the aggressors in Oz."

"No," the Winkie says powerfully. "The Lady Elphaba was framed by the Wizard, who has had the people of Oz fearful of his rule from day one. She was a freedom fighter. Nothing more. But his misinformation cabal has always been powerful. Many of the other homelands never knew there was something rotten in Oz."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Bufkin nods. It's odd to hear him talk about the Witch. It has always been a sore subject, but I had figured that was because she had mistreated him, not because he loved her so dearly.

We enter the castle, and the warrior leads us to a war room, where a vast arangement of men and beast sit around a giant map of Oz, moving pieces representing armies around, and taking those off as they fall.

As we enter the room, a tall, spindly man stands, and as he talks, I realize he is no man, "Welcome friends. We are glad to finally have the support of the other exiles. Welcome to Oz. And welcome to war."

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v335/Orian9/scarecrow.jpg

Byrd Man

12-18-2011, 03:45 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Allentown, Pennsylvania
December 24th
10:34 PM

I pull my truck into the parking lot of the Allentown Motor Lodge and fine a place to park. US Marshals have an outstanding warrant for one Janet Mary Lebowitz. She's a 34 year old woman who was arrested for tax fraud six months ago. She jumped bail and her and her husband went on to rob a Pittsburgh bank, assaulting a police officer, and stealing a car. Joe Lebowtiz's body was found by the cops last month. So that's a charge of murder on top of the other stuff. Marshals have a $80,000 reward out for her arrest. Usually, I don't go after women...but it's Christmas and all. I could do with an easy bounty.

I get out the truck and walk to the front desk. I flash Lebowitz's picture, along with a crisp hundred dollar bill, and find out she's in room 104. I walk to the room and lean against the door, my gun down below my waist as I knock on the door.

"Who is it?" A woman's voice calls out from the other side of the door.

"Housekeepin'."

"At 10:30 at night?"

"Sonofa***** manager won't let me have Christmas off unless I clean all the rooms tonight."

"Okay, hold on. Let me get the door..."

I wait nearly thirty seconds for her to open the door before I curse under my breath and kick the door with my boot, shaking it on its hinges. Another swift kick, and the door slams open. No sign of Lebowitz in the motel room, but it's been obvious she's been living here a good while. I knock open the bathroom door and find a pair of legs trying to wiggle out the bathroom door. I reach out and pull Lebowitz back in. She falls to the floor and I see the bulging belly.

"Goddamn, woman. Nobody told me you were pregnant!"

She swings wildly at me and I step back, letting her blows miss.

"Calm the hell down," I say, pointing my gun at her. "Get on yer feet. Yer coming with me."

"No! You want to kill me," she says, her hands going to her belly, "kill us...you do it here! I'm not giving Trafficante the ****ing satisfaction!"

"I don't get any money for bringin' a corpse. US Marshals like their captives taken alive."

She blinks and furrows her brow. "You're a Marshal?"

"Hell no. I'm a bounty hunter. Now, get the hell up. Philly is the closest Marshal's office."

I hear a car pull up to the room and look out the bathroom door. It's a black sedan, New York State plates.

"Oh, god," Lebowitz whispers under her breath. "It's them..."

Three me in dark suits get out the car and begin to walk towards the motel room.

"Mister," she says, tugging at my sleeve. "We have to get out of here right now!"

One of the men pulls something from his jacket and tosses it towards the room. My eye goes wide with recognition when I see the small object sail through the open front door.

"GO! GO! GO!"

I grab Lebowitz and shove her out the bathroom window. I jump through just as the hand grenade explodes and shrapnel rips through the motel room.

Laying on the ground beside the wanted woman, I look up into the motel room and see the three men looking through the room for any sign of Lebowitz. I turn to her, putting my hand to my lips. We creep behind the motel room and sneak through the parking lot to my truck. I start it up and begin to pull out when the three men emerge from the room. They don't hesitate, pulling out handguns and firing on my truck. I hit the gas and peel out the parking lot, the back glass in my pickup shattering from a bullet.

The truck roars down the road, trying to put as much distance between us and them as we can.

MST3K 4ever

12-19-2011, 03:41 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

Rhiannon leaves the room and comes back in with the picture of her family from Morlaidhan.

She gives it to her mother who is sitting at the kitchen table and says, "Tell me what you see in the two children."

Alice replies as she looks at the picture, "Well their father's characteristics, I'm assuming that's who this gentleman is, are readily aparent and...."

Just then she takes a closer look and then it hits her.

She looks at Rhiannon with her mouth wide open and asks, "How...you?"

Rhiannon says, "Like I said keep an open mind for what I'm about to tell you."

Rhiannon removes her black glove and shows the marriage marking and the royal seal.

Her mother sees those marks on Laethwyn and says, "Okay."

Rhiannon sits at the table and tells her everything, and when she is finished Alice says, "If it was anyone else I would say they were insane, but knowing the kind of life you live and your powers I can't say I'm terribly shocked. A bit shaken but not terribly."

Rhiannon says, "Now you see why I'm having a lot of issues right now. I lived an entire lifetime that was unlike anything else that could've ever been possible in this realm of reality."

Alice says, "True but now you're having trouble readjusting to this world. Where kill or be killed is no longer the rule of the land and where you're Rhiannon Faye Palmer not Lady or Queen Rhiannon. "

Rhiannon nods and says, "Yeah, but most of all I miss my husband and my two children. Being without them is just sheer agony."

Alice replies, "I know the feeling. Yes I got you back but not a day goes by that I don't miss your father. Not to mention you've lived an entire lifetime and died and cameback. You need time to process it all, to come to grips with what happened, and yes even mourn and celebrate your other life. "

Rhiannon says, "I don't know where to go from here mom. I just don't know. I feel so lost."

Alice moves closer and the two embrace as Rhiannon says, "I just wish I knew what the hell my next move is. Please help me mom."

Alice replies, "I will Rhiannon I promise."

She takes a step back and says, "First thing you need to do; put being The Atom aside for a while."

Rhiannon replies, "But what about the Legion of Doom and the other Justice Leaguers who need me."

Alice says, "Even the Clergy get to take sabaticals from time to time to renew themselves. It's time for you to get to know you again. If you don't know who you really are Rhiannon then how can you ever hope to have a dual identity?"

Rhiannon nods and says, "Point to you."

Alice says, "Secondly call Met-Tech tell them you'll take the job. You love science and you love talking about it. Engage that part of your life again, That'll go a long way to getting you back to yourself."

Rhiannon smiles and asks, "Third get to know you again?"

Alice nods and says with a smile, "That sounds great. Okay call Met-Tech now and we'll go from there."

Rhiannon smiles and calls Met-Tech to accept the teaching position.

MST3K 4ever

12-20-2011, 11:59 AM

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/penguinbanneredit.jpg

Oswald is in his aviary at his palatial estate in the exclusive Centennial Hills Community of Gotham. He is feeding his birds and talking to them as his L-Phone rings.

He answers, "Yes."

Mayor Thorne replies, "Hello Oswald how are you doing this fine day?"

Oswald replies, "Better than average what can I do for you Rupert?"

Mayor Throne replies, "I gave your suggestion to my contacts at Wayne Enterprises and they seem to like it, but it needs to go before the full board and board room politics at times can drag out as you know."

Oswald replies, "No I don't know. I say something and it's done. But I've heard about situations like that so I can't really argue too much. Thank you though for taking care of the Wayne Situation for me."

Thorne says, "Not a problem Oswald I'll keep you informed, and now I have a favor to ask of you."

Oswald replies, "What would that be Rupert?"

Throne replies, "An old friend of mine State Senator Armand Krol is running for re-election and he seems to be losing ground in some key precincts to Madelyn Grange. I was wondering if you could go out on the trail with him for a few days to help his cause."

Oswald thinks for a moment and says, "Of course I can old friend. Of course I can. Give me 24 hours to tie up some loose ends and I'll be ready."

Thorne says, "Thanks Oswald. I'll contact the campaign manager and get it set up."

Oswald replies, "Sounds good to me I'll be awaiting the phone call. Now if you'll excuse me I've got to take car of some affairs so I can be free to help your friend out. Thanks again for talking to the board Rupert."

Thorne replies, "You're welcome old friend."

The two men hang up.

Byrd Man

12-20-2011, 04:03 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Previously

Now

The team watched as their train went up in a massive fireball, destroying the cars as well as the alien aircraft they had invaded Russia to steal.

"It's done. We may not get the UFO out of Russia, but you can damn sure bet the Chinese ain't getting it now."

Waller looked around at the team. They were all bruised, bloody, and burnt. One was even a limb lighter than he had been when this mission started out.

"Alright, we still got an evac to get to. 500 kilometers of Russian tundra to fight across. Sooner we get started, sooner we're out of here or...dead. Let's get going."

Six Days Later
Siberia
20 Kilometers West of Vladivostok
2204 Hours

The rabbit bounded through the snow, running on all fours towards its hole. The rabbit knew he was being watched. Something was out here in the woods, something was watching him.

KRAK!

The bullet struck the rabbit in the neck. The animal was dead as soon as it hit the snow. Fifty yards away, Rick Flag was holding a smoking rifle. Flag collected the rabbit and made his way to the makeshift camp the nine members of Task Force X had set up in the woods. It'd been almost a week since they had abandoned their primary mission. The destroyed the alien aircraft they had come to Russia to steal, keeping it out of the hands of the Russians and Chinese. Now their primary objective was to survive and get out of the country.

"Call sign," a voice said in the darkness as Flag approached the camp.

"Flagman."

Bronze Tiger stepped out of the shadows, a coat wrapped tightly around his body. "That's dinner?"

"Yep. Good thing we aren't out here in the dead of winter. We'd be screwed then."

Flag walked passed Turner and into the collection of foxholes and lean-tos they called a camp. Amanda Waller was bundled up in a coat, rubbing her arms while Sarge Steel looked over Blockbuster as he laid on the ground.

"We're moving out at midnight," Waller said as soon as she saw Flag. "I radioed our people on the ship. We got till two AM to get there. We're any later, then we're out of luck."

"How's he doing?" Flag asked, nodding towards Blockbuster.

"Not too good."

During the initial train wreck that had derailed their train, Blockbuster had his right arm amputated in the crash. Steel managed to patch him up and bandage the stump, but the wound had become infected. Blockbuster was getting weaker with each passing day and red lines of infection were winding their way up from his stump to his chest and neck. For the past two days he had to be carried when they moved. They had managed to rig up a litter to carry the big man in, but even then it was slow moving.

"He's gonna need medical attention as soon as we get on the boat," Steel said as he looked up. "We've got a medical team waiting, but it may be too little too late."

"Well, let's move out right now."

"Not yet," Waller said sternly. "I want to wait to make sure we lost the Russians."

After the wreck, the tea had headed southeast towards Vladivostok. The army figured they went straight east to the ocean. That had bought them some extra time, but sooner or later the Russians would head south.

"What if they come back with those superpowered guys? We barely beat them before and now, after a week in the wilderness..."

"If that happens...well, that's what that gauntlet on your wrist is for. Use it. On all of us."

After a few hours the beaten and bruised members of the Suicide Squad moved out, Bronze Tiger and Vertigo in the front while Deadshot and Flag carried Blockbuster in the rear. Desmond was wheezing, and Flag could smell the stink from his wound as he walked.

They came to the outskirts of the Vladivostok. Hunkered down at the edge of the forest, Bronze Tiger cursed under his breath.

"They've got sentries," he announced. "Army guys set up at the city's entrance."

"They sent the main army search parties east, but set up guards here. Damn."

"Can we go around?" Steel asked.

"I can create a portal and go around them," Nightshade said. "But I can only get us as far as the downtown,"

"There's gonna be guards blocking the port as well," Waller said checking her watch. "We only got a half hour."

"Vertigo, did you ever get your eyepiece working again?"

"No," he said, holding up the burnt out eyepatch.

"Damn. Let's deal with the guards at the port when we get there. Nighthsade."

Nightshade stood up, creating a fissure in the air that expanded to a portal. They all walked through, Flag and Lawton carrying Blockbuster through. They appeared in a back alley in the middle of he city, the same place they had originally rendezvoused a week and a half ago.

"We're about six blocks over from the port. It's gonna be hard to do this while carrying Desmond."

"Leave 'em," Lawton said with a shrug. "He's gonna die. We all know that. We knew it when he first got his arm lopped off. Just go ahead and put him out of his misery. I said as much when it first happened, but nobody wants to listen."

"No," Flag said. "We don't leave him behind. I don't give a damn if this is the Suicide Squad, I won't have his death on my conscience."

"You didn't seem to give a damn about all those Russian soldiers you killed, the woman you put a bullet through. What's one more?"

Without hesitation, Flag unholstered his .45 and placed the barrel of the gun under Lawton's chin.

"You're right. What's one more piece of garbage?"

"Stop it, both of you," Waller spat out. "I don't give a damn what either of you think, Desmond is staying with us. Turner, Vertigo, take point and scout ahead."

The two men crept away from the group, returning ten minutes later.

"It's like you said, Waller. Guards are posted at the entrance to the port."

"At least six of them."

"Dammit. The shape we're in, no way we can take 'em on."

"Let's distract them. Plant some Semtex a block away and blow it up. They go running and we slip in."

"We used all our Semtex on destroying the train."

"We split the team up. Some of you go off and raise hell on the other side of town. The guards go to help out and you haul ass back to the boat."

"We only got twenty minutes to get to the boat. Will that be enough time."

"It's gonna have to be."
"No," Blockbustersaid feebly. "Let me do it."

"Hell no. I spent all this time trying to keep you alive, and your dumbass wants to ruin it all by dying."

"**** you, *****. I'm dying. I'll go out on my own terms and kill some ***holes while I do it."

"Fine," Waller said with a sigh. "If you can muster the strength to get up, go kill your fool self."

*****

The army guards paced around the barricades set up outside the Vladivostok port. They'd been given strict orders not to let anyone in or out until the army told them otherwise. They had been stationed outside the port for three days now, keeping seamen inside and the merchants out. People had complained to them, but they eventually turned around once they figured out the soldiers weren't going anywhere.

One of them gave out a cry as he turned and saw Blockbuster towering over him, his right arm a bloody stump. The guard cried out just as Desmond wrapped his massive hand around the guard's throat, snapping it in one quick motion. The other guards turned and aimed their guns at the man, firing at him. Blockbuster roared and absorbed their bullets, swinging wildly with his one arm as the bullets ripped through him. The guards went flying into the air and Desmond fell to his knees, the bullets had punctured his lungs, stomach, and throat. He coughed and sprayed blood on the ground. As he slumped to the ground to die, the last thing he saw was the eight figures sneaking through the dark past the guards checkpoint.

12 Hours Later
The Pacific Ocean

The cargo ship passed by Japan on the way to Hawaii. Flag was on the bridge with Waller, watching the steady motion of the ocean.

"Guess this mission was a bust."

"Wouldn't say that, Colonel. We managed to keep that UFO out the Chinese's hands. That counts for something."

Flag nodded and the two stood in silence for sever minutes, watching as the boat cut through the waters of the Pacific.

"Russians won't be able to identify Desmond," Waller finally said. "Calculator purged him from the system. Even if they manage to get their hands on any American files, Roland Desmond never existed."

"You live and you get freedom, die and you never exist. Doesn't seem fair."

"Considering what some of these folks have done, it's fairer than they deserve."
"Speaking of fair, did you give all the non-criminals the stuff that flushes the nanites out their system?"

"Yeah. It was in the food we had a few hours ago. They'll go through everyone's system and nobody will be the wiser."

"Would you have done it?" Flag asked. "Approved me to kill us all if we got caught."

"Of course. I sure as hell don't want to die, but it was better than what was waiting for us if the Russians got our hands on us. It was you that worried me. You wouldn't hesitate to kill yourself, it's the others you didn't want to take with you."

"What's that mean?"

"Please. I read through the reports of what you did under Faraday. Brick had a shotgun in your mouth and still you hesitated."

"He was my soldier-"

"He was a pawn, same as Blockbuster. When pawns run out of uses, you sacrifice them."

"Sorry I'm not a cold-blooded ***** like you."

"Ha. I'm a ***** alright, but not cold-blooded. I'm a realist, Flag. I see us for what we all are: pawns on a chessboard. We may not be pawns, but sooner or later we'll run out of our uses. After that, we're cannon fodder for the kings and queens. That's just the way of the world."

Waller patted Flag on the back and walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the ghost of his past.

Byrd Man

12-20-2011, 07:28 PM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

Mom walks out of the kitchen with two boxes of pizza in her arms.

"Dinner's served. Enjoy, I slaved over a hot Pizza Hut counter for ten minutes, waiting on them to give me my order."

Dinnertime at the Allen house. She puts the pizza on the table and we start to all divvy it up, Dad and I go for the supreme while everyone else gets pepperoni.

"So how was work today, Bart?" Dad asks as he sprinkles extra cheese on his pizza.

"No shop talk at the table," Mom says sternly. "Especially in front of company."

"It's okay, Mrs. Allen," Jesse says with a shrug. "I don't mind."

"It's not that, Jesse, it's just that this is the first night of the week we've all been together. Bart's been on call almost every night, and Mr. Allen's had to go back to work more than a few times every night. I just want us to enjoy each other, and not bring police work into it."

"It's fine, Mom. I understand."

We all eat in silence for several minutes before Mom sighs.

"Fine...what happened today, Bart?"

"Don't know if I should say, since it's all part of an ongoing investigation...but seriously, somebody robbed Keystone First National Bank, it was crazy..."

******

After dinner, I head up to my room. It's dark, but I may be able to check out if there's any trouble happening around Central and Keystone. I pass by Wally's room and hear muffled voices. I try to hurry on, I really don't want to hear him and Jesse making out, but I stop when I hear crying.

"What happened?" Wally asks. I lean against the door to listen in.

"There...were these men at the door today," Jesse says between gasps. "They threatened him, wanting some formula...My dad said he didn't...didn't know what they were talking about. They said they would tell the media about something he did, or hurt me. I don't know what to do, Wally!"

Wally tries to comfort her, trying to calm her down.

"Why don't we tell me dad?"

"No, I can't have my father getting in trouble!"

"He's a cop, Jesse. Whatever you dad may have done, blackmail is worse. He'll see that."

"I don't know...he could still arrest my dad if it's bad enough....what about the Flash?"

"What about him?"

"You're part of his fan club, reach out to him!"

"I just help run his Facebook fan page. Even then, two other guys help me."

"Send him a message, then. Tell him he's important. He'll find a way to help, I know it."

"Alright...I still say going to the cops if the best option."

I hear Wally get off his bed and walk towards his computer. I creep into my room and make a beeline for my computer. Wally's post is right there on the Flash fan page.

Flash, need help ASAP. Please contact.

I walk over to my bed and put my computer down on it before I walk to my closet and dig through the mess in the back, pulling out the red suit and boots.

Time to find out what's exactly going on with Johnny Quick.

Jesse and Wally are in the backyard, snow falling from the sky and coating the ground in a thin layer of the white stuff. They've been calling for snow all week, now it's here.

I appear before the two of them, vibrating my body to obscure my face.

"You wanted to talk."

Both gape at me in disbelief, not really sure I'm actually standing in front of me.

"Go on," Wally says, elbowing her in the ribs. "Tell him."

"Well, uhh, Mister Flash...uhh...sir. It's my father. Johnny Quick, the NFL quarterback. Some people came to our house today and threatened to hurt him if he didn't give them some kind of formula. I don't know what to do. I need your help."

"I'll look into it," I say, remaining aloof and cool as I do my best Batman impression.

"So that's a yes?"

"....Maybe."

"Yes or no, dude?"

"Alright, yes. Jesus, you kids with your attitudes. It's not enough you got a superhero standing your backyard, you want to ruin his mysterious aura. I blame Xbox."

With that, I turn and run away. A few seconds later, I'm back in the house and in my room, my Flash costume stowed away.

"Bart!" Wally says, bursting through my door.

"What about knocking, you little twerp? Privacy, please!"

"Sorry. But listen, Flash was in the backyard! He talked to us!"

"Yeah, right," I say with a chuckle. "And I'm actually the Flash."

"Come to think of it, you have similar builds..."

"So, uhh, what did he want?" I quickly ask, changing topics.

"Private. Just thought you should know. Jealous?"

"You know that I am."

Wally winks at me and leaves my room. I wait until he's gone before I grab my laptop and boot it up. Time to find out everything I know about Johnny Quick.

Spike_x1

12-20-2011, 11:46 PM

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/UltSupermanBanner-1.jpg"As per the Atom's suggestion, I can meet with Steel and get him up to speed on the situation with the League and the Legion of Doom." My mind falls to Batman for a moment and I wonder if I should take a look around Gotham. I hear a lot of dubious things about him, to say the least, but I know that he's a good man. At the very least, I'll see if he's available on the telepathic network.

"We can keep each other updated through J'onn. Now, if we're each ready to go..." Typing in a few keys, an access port opens above us and I start to take to the air.http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/Superman/sups.jpg

Before heading to Metropolis' south side -known to many people as Suicide Slum- to meet with Dr. Irons, I take the liberty of scanning around the immediate area of the new Stryker's Island Penitentiary for any sign of how Joe Martin, the Atomic Skull, escaped. Unfortunately, however he pulled it off, whether he had outside help or accomplished it under his own power, the prison staff seem to be just as perplexed as I am. From what I can hear them saying as I fly past, they only realized that he had escaped when he appeared to the world on television.

Not a good sign.

That kind of stealthiness would seem to indicate that the Legion of Doom sprang him from custody, not that I'm surprised. But if they're capable of breaking the Skull out, then they can probably arrange for the escape of other prisoners. The amount of raw destructive potential contained within those walls makes me shudder. The Atomic Skull alone is more than a handful, and someone who even I need to keep my guard up around. I don't want to think about what would happen if someone like Blackrock escaped. And I haven't even taken into consideration the fact that Joe is part of a team now, and apparently very well organized. Right now, however, I need to focus on other things as I make my way towards John Irons' Steelworks lab.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk23/Spike_x1/UDC%20RPG/SteelWorks.jpg

Descending through an open skylight in the building's roof, I find John talking with Lois Lane of all people as Jim Olsen takes a few photos of the Steel armor that is on display and at the ready to accept a pilot.

"Superman!" exclaims Lois. "We were actually just talking about you, although you probably heard the whole conversation from a mile away."

"I try not to listen in on people unless it's an emergency. Now, not that I mind seeing you, but what brings you to Steelworks, Lois?"

"We got a hot tip that Dr. Irons is on the shortlist to join the Justice League."

Jim takes his mind off the job to chime in on the conversation and I feel a little bad when Lois gives him a look to tell him to get back to work. I need to try and hang out with Jimmy some more. Ever since Lois and I broke up, Jimmy sort of found himself caught in the middle of a number of awkward moments between Lois and I, and I'd hate for it to negatively affect our friendship.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." John says to me as he finishes the mug of coffee in his hand and turns to activate the armor resting on the wall behind him. "My niece kind of let the cat out of the bag, and you know how it is with the South side. It's a pretty close community and news travels fast."

"All the way to the top, in fact."

"It's lucky you caught me here, Superman. I was actually just about to begin today's patrol of the neighborhood. Feel free to tag along if you'd like."

"Actually the matter of your Justice League candidacy is why I'm here. With the Legion of Doom's attack on the UN, we all felt that the League could use all the help that it can get, and your skills would be especially valuable." John returns my smile and I hold out my hand. The camera flashes as we shake on it. "Welcome to the Justice League, Steel."

Carnage27

12-21-2011, 08:14 PM

Cyborg

I'm tossed through a whole city block, slamming against the street on the other side, sliding along the pavement and creating a sizeable scar in it. I attempt to stand, but he's on me again before I can recover. Another uppercut sends me into the air, and I slam hard onto the roof of another building.

"Have you had enough, tin man?" the super-powered attacker asks in a mocking tone. "Or does Apollo need to finish you?"

"Really?" I respond with a chuckle. "You're gonna talk in the third person? I mean come on. Talk about cliched. You're like a - UMF"

He doesn't let me continue taunting him. He drives his foot into my stomach. And does it again, and again, and again. The expected pain doesn't come, at least at the intensity I would expect. But each blow messes with my systems as well.

But I manage to catch his foot at one point, driving my energy blade into his crotch. The guy is insanely durable, so it doesn't slice him open. But it's as good as a baseball bat to the groin to a regular man.

He doubles over, and I don't waste time driving into the offensive. I slam into him and the two of us tumble off the roof, and I drive him into the pavement below.

But he bursts out of the resulting crater and back into the air, and I act quickly. I rush over to a compact car and toss it directly into his path. The resulting explosion shatters the windows on the street, and sends Apollo out of control. I then patch myself into two other cars and send them speeding towards him, causing yet another explosion.

I'm about to head back into close combat when a portal opens next to me. From the other side, I hear Jenny Sparks' voice, "Let's go."

I turn back towards Apollo, wanting to take care of him, but she insists, "We'll have another shot at him. Let's go."

Supergirl

12-22-2011, 02:11 PM

Turns out her class was cancelled. Her professor didn't show for her Introduction to Graphic Arts class. A Professor Tycho. She called him one of those flaky computer guys. We talked for a couple hours and she went to go get food, while I turned on the news. Great Rao. There are ROBOTS ATTACKING MIDTOWN. FREAKING ANIME ROBOTS! Just what I needed!

I quickly scribble a note telling Chlo that I was gonna go do some research at the public library, change into my costume and take off towards the robot attack.

The news footage didn't do it justice. These things are straight out of a Michael Bay crapfest!

I barrel into the nearest robot and only do enough to stagger it. Well that and turn it's attention to me. The punch takes me a bit off guard and sends me flying backward several meters before I right myself. Hmm. Stronger than they first appeared. I do a silent count. There are four of them. All slightly different, but same basic design. And all four have turned their attention to me. Good. Let's see what they can do.

Doesn't take long to find out some more of what they have, as one blasts me with a laser from it's palm. Doesn't really hurt, but it does peeve me off. That's another cape I'm going to have to replace.

"Okay. You done made me mad. It's go time."

I fly at the one that shot me, and grab the convenient piping on it's back. It's a bit heavy, but I haul it into the air. I can feel it struggle against me, and the other three launch themselves after me. Awesome. They can fly. At least that makes this part easier. I spin and throw the one I'm carrying as hard as I can to the east, over the ocean, then take off after it. I smile as the other three follow. About a half mile over the bay, the robot I threw rights himself and starts hurtling back towards me. I meet it at full momentum, and this time do significant damage. Like a hole in it's torso, damage. It drops, once more inanimate into the water below, whatever left of it's electric life shorting out as it does so. I don't have a lot of time to relax though, as the other three converge on me.
Now that we're out of the city, there's no need to hold back. I absorb their blows, and let the rockets they're launching at me explode as they hit. Easy peezy. Within minutes I'm down to the last one, and I give it every thing I have as an emotional outlet. Before long, it too will need dragging out of Hobb's Bay, other than the arm that I'm still holding. I quickly examine the arm for clues, but all I come up with is the stylized 'T' painted on the arm, nothing else of note.

MST3K 4ever

12-22-2011, 07:18 PM

http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7014/6556758855_0afdb679f0.jpg

Grodd is wearing a large overcoat and hat as he makes his way through the streets of the Central City during a fairly quiet evening.

Finally he makes it to his destination.

The Central City Library here is where I'll learn more about my prey: that simple minded speed-freak Flash. I've already used my internet connection at my lair to discern where the most valuable information on him is located. He has but one true ability and from what Braniac has told me he is a vital member of the League. If he were to fall or be wounded the League would be dealt a very serious blow.

Grodd sneaks around the back of the library.

Braniac has ordered me to serve the Legion of Doom, but he has also ordered me to watch the one called Vandal Savage. There is not a lot of trust within this group, but our mission to vanquish and hatred of the Justice League unites us if only for a moment.

Grodd sees that the library alarm system is set.

Pathetic! As if that will keep me from me goal!

Grodd rips the door and leaps through the library grabbing microfilm reels, a microfilm viewer, back issues of periodicals, books, and newspapers. He quickly leaps into the sewer system and makes his way back to his hideout in the abandonned dock area of Central City.

With my superior intellect I was able to fashion a crude but effective internet connection, and other necessary items to survive.

He opens a book and begins studying it very carefully.

Byrd Man

12-22-2011, 10:33 PM

http://i210.photobucket.com/albums/bb232/byrdRPG/Suicide%20Squad/suicidesquad.png

Personnel Files
From the notes of Dr. Simon LaGreive.

Metropolis Police Department

Criminal History Report

Name: Floyd NMI Lawton

DOB: N/A (Unknown, believed to be between 25-35)

Aliases: Deadshot, Larry Lawton, Eddie Banks, Floyd Penrose,

Height: 6'0

Weight: 200

Known Crimes: Felony Assault (10 counts), Assault and Battery (4 counts), Grand Theft Auto (2 counts), Attempted Murder (1 count), Conspiracy to Commit Murder (45 counts), 1st Degree Murder (50 counts)

Arresting Officer's Notes:

Lawton was arrested on the date in the original officer's report (File #121509) and during the subsequent interrogation, admitted to all of the crimes we have charged him with. He knew specific dates, times, and information only the killer would be privy to. By our count, Lawton has murdered almost fifty people in America and abroad. Lawton's claims that he did these acts as a contract killer are still being investigated. MPD is currently working with the FBI to track down all the victims Lawton claims to have killed. FBI agents have also volunteered to investigate Lawton's backstory. The fact that his finger prints have been eaten away with acid makes it difficult to find out his identity. Even the name Floyd Lawton could just be an alias he gave us.

When pressed about who he is and where he comes from, Lawton evades and counters with a question himself. When asked why he confessed to all the crimes we couldn't link him to, he just shrugged and said he figured it would give us something to talk about. He described in gory detail how he was paid by a Colombian drug kingpin to disembowel a rival. He then asked for a barbeque sandwich, saying that the story had given him an appetite. Later, with a mouth full of food, he explained the steps of how he tortured a woman to death using nothing but a machete and blowtorch.

I can say without a doubt that Lawton is the most inhumane person I have ever met, this comes after over twenty years as a police officer and investigator. Whatever drove him to became the monster he is had to be bad. He is being transferred to a federal facility to await trial. If the state of Massachusetts restores the death penalty, it's this investigator's opinion that Lawton should be the first one to be poked by the lethal injection needle.

Lt. D. Turpin
SCU Commander

11/30/10

Written transcript of session with Lawton, Floyd NMI

Date: 12/2/11

Simon LaGreive: Have a seat, Floyd. Is there anything you wish to talk about or discuss?

Floyd Lawton: Not with you.

SL: Why not?

FL: Because I know how guys like you work. I say one word, you try to make a big deal out of it and say that my father beat me with a belt when I was eight.

SL: I'm just trying to help you out, Floyd.

FL: *inaudible*

SL: What was that?

FL: Nothing.

SL: Well, tell me about the mission you came back from. The whole team looked horrible. Word is you all were stranded in Siberia for a week. Do you want to talk about it?

FL: I've been through worse.

SL: What about the death of...*ruffling papers* Roland Desmond? Blockbuster. The report says he sacrificed his life for you and the team.

FL: He was a dumbass who thought getting gunned down in some frozen ****hole was a noble death. If it helped me out for him to die, I wasn't going to argue.

SL: You wouldn't do the same?

FL: Hell no. The whole point of this program is to get freedom. You can't do a damn thing with freedom if you're dead. There's nothing noble about dying. I've seen it enough to know.

SL: How many men have you killed, Floyd?

FL: No idea. I started to lose count when I hit triple digits.

SL: Metropolis police seem to think you killed fifty. That's how many murders you confessed to.

FL: Eh. I just confessed to tell them something. They already had me for one murder. In for a dime, in for a dozen.

SL: Let's change topics...is Floyd Lawton your real name?

FL: *long pause* How long you been divorced, doc?

SL: Excuse me?

FL: Your wedding ring, or lack thereof. There's a tan line where it used to be.

SL: I don't think it's any of your business...

FL: Why not? You seem to be content as all ****ing hell to get into my business.

SL: That's different, I'm trying to help you.

FL: Bull****. You want to know all my dirty little secrets. You get off on it. That's why the wife left you, isn't it? You couldn't get it up unless you thought about torture and death. Is that it?

SL: Guards!

*door opens*

SL: Get him out of here!

FL: *being led out, voice fading* See how easy it is, doc? When's our next session? I look forward to it!

End session

Byrd Man

12-23-2011, 10:49 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Previously

Allentown, Pennsylvania
December 24th
10:34 PM

I pull my truck into the parking lot of the Allentown Motor Lodge and fine a place to park. US Marshals have an outstanding warrant for one Janet Mary Lebowitz. She's a 34 year old woman who was arrested for tax fraud six months ago. She jumped bail and her and her husband went on to rob a Pittsburgh bank, assaulting a police officer, and stealing a car. Joe Lebowtiz's body was found by the cops last month. So that's a charge of murder on top of the other stuff. Marshals have a $80,000 reward out for her arrest. Usually, I don't go after women...but it's Christmas and all. I could do with an easy bounty.

I get out the truck and walk to the front desk. I flash Lebowitz's picture, along with a crisp hundred dollar bill, and find out she's in room 104. I walk to the room and lean against the door, my gun down below my waist as I knock on the door.

"Who is it?" A woman's voice calls out from the other side of the door.

"Housekeepin'."

"At 10:30 at night?"

"Sonofa***** manager won't let me have Christmas off unless I clean all the rooms tonight."

"Okay, hold on. Let me get the door..."

I wait nearly thirty seconds for her to open the door before I curse under my breath and kick the door with my boot, shaking it on its hinges. Another swift kick, and the door slams open. No sign of Lebowitz in the motel room, but it's been obvious she's been living here a good while. I knock open the bathroom door and find a pair of legs trying to wiggle out the bathroom door. I reach out and pull Lebowitz back in. She falls to the floor and I see the bulging belly.

"Goddamn, woman. Nobody told me you were pregnant!"

She swings wildly at me and I step back, letting her blows miss.

"Calm the hell down," I say, pointing my gun at her. "Get on yer feet. Yer coming with me."

"No! You want to kill me," she says, her hands going to her belly, "kill us...you do it here! I'm not giving Trafficante the ****ing satisfaction!"

"I don't get any money for bringin' a corpse. US Marshals like their captives taken alive."

She blinks and furrows her brow. "You're a Marshal?"

"Hell no. I'm a bounty hunter. Now, get the hell up. Philly is the closest Marshal's office."

I hear a car pull up to the room and look out the bathroom door. It's a black sedan, New York State plates.

"Oh, god," Lebowitz whispers under her breath. "It's them..."

Three me in dark suits get out the car and begin to walk towards the motel room.

"Mister," she says, tugging at my sleeve. "We have to get out of here right now!"

One of the men pulls something from his jacket and tosses it towards the room. My eye goes wide with recognition when I see the small object sail through the open front door.

"GO! GO! GO!"

I grab Lebowitz and shove her out the bathroom window. I jump through just as the hand grenade explodes and shrapnel rips through the motel room.

Laying on the ground beside the wanted woman, I look up into the motel room and see the three men looking through the room for any sign of Lebowitz. I turn to her, putting my hand to my lips. We creep behind the motel room and sneak through the parking lot to my truck. I start it up and begin to pull out when the three men emerge from the room. They don't hesitate, pulling out handguns and firing on my truck. I hit the gas and peel out the parking lot, the back glass in my pickup shattering from a bullet.

The truck roars down the road, trying to put as much distance between us and them as we can.

Pennsylvania
December 24th
11:04 PM

My truck cuts through the dark Pennsylvania night. Snow is beginning to fall from the sky and stick to the ground.

"Alright," I say to the pregnant woman sitting on the seat beside me. "Talk."

Janet Lebowitz has an eighty thousand dollar bounty on her head, but apparently someone is interested in doing more than bringing her into federal custody. A half hour ago, three men tried to kill her and me. That's why the back window of my truck is shot out.

"Those guys were sent by Harry Trafficante. He runs rackets in Pittsburgh. My husband Joe and I worked for him, helped him launder money. He wants me killed because I can bring him down. Those three guys are the ones who killed Joe a few months ago."

"If you're scared, why'd ya'll escape custody and rob a bank?"

"We were scared, okay? We were afraid that Trafficante could get to us even in federal custody. But Harry caught up to us. At first, he said we could buy our way outta trouble by robbing that bank. Joe was meeting with him to give him the money from the robbery when they killed him...I panicked."

"Well, I'm taking you to Philly. The Marshals will look at you and yer baby. You tell them all you told me and they'll help you out."

We drive in silence for nearly a half hour. A red light appears on the dash and the temperature gauge shoots up.

"Goddammit..." I say under my breath. The truck's radiator is pouring steam as I pull to the side of the road. I get out and look at, kicking the side of the truck in anger. The snow's beginning to fall faster. The guys after us can't be too far behind.

"Come on," I say to Lebowitz as I help her from the truck. "The nearest town is just a mile down the road. It's..."

I look up at the sign post and roll my eyes.

"You gotta be ****ing with me."

One mile down the road is the town of Bethlehem. We trudge through the snow, but it's slow going with the ice and the fact that Lebowitz is about to pop.

Lights splash on the highway, a car is coming down the road fast.

"Come on."

I lead her off the highway and through a field. We climb over a fence and come down inside a barnyard. Off in the distance, the car is parked on the side of the road.

"Get in the barn."

I help Lebowitz inside the barn. Goats, cows, and a horse are all in their stalls. I lead her to an empty stall and look out through the cracks in the wall.

"They're coming. You stay here."

"Can do," she says, gritting her teeth and rubbing her stomach.

"Jesus Christ, woman. Whatever is about to go down, keep that damn baby inside of you."

I walk out the barn, my .45 in my hands. Standing at the entrance to the barnyard are the three men, each of them packing pistols. The snow swirls around the barnyard as a gust of wind picks up.

"This is my type of Christmas party. Now, which one of you sons of *****es brought the frankincense and myrrh?"

Bounce

12-24-2011, 12:15 PM

https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/w317-h96-k/lor_zod3.png

Metropolis
The City of Tomorrow

Oswald Loomis, eccentrically dressed as his nomme de guerre Uncle Oswald, artfully shuffled a deck of cards from hand hand to the next before taking a bow to the sound of canned laughter. The once live audience lay barren before the stage. The children no longer gathered around to ‘ooh’ or ‘aah’ at the magic tricks. The sleight of hand or illusionary games no longer held the fancy of the boys and girls.

There had been a time – oh yes, there had been a time when Uncle Oswald had loomed large as the great entertainer of children. He had been an advocate for better children’s television, educational television even.

Then had come the computers, or the Japanese anime, the cheap cartoons with the flash and large marketing deals to peddle toys or playing cards. Mind numbing games of no value in educating or enlightening the mind of the child.

Yet these usurpers had something that Uncle Oswald could no longer claim, they managed to hold the children’s attention.

But that would change once Oswald had Superboy. The children would come back to him. The audience would return. Everything would be as it was meant to be. As it should it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

The fire-lady snapped forward, her face inches from Lor-Zod’s – close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off her very skin – as she opened her mouth and breathed a gout of flame directly in the young Kryptonian’s face. His eyes began stinging immediately, tears welling up as the boy squeezed them shut and yelped in pain as he was blinded.

He felt himself struck. Again and again. Unable to see his attacker, caught by surprise as he struggled to see through the pain and the bursts of color now obscuring his vision. In the whirlwind of motion, the boy lost all sense of orientation. Up, down; above, below. It was a blurring circle of continuous motion.

Blasts of energy began knocking him through the air, tossed about like a tennis ball in motion with nothing he could do, but grit his teeth and bear it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

Smoke had started to seep inside of the cafeteria through the hole in the roof that Lor had made when he’d suddenly left. Adam didn’t want to believe that Superboy would run away when people were in trouble, but the boy had no idea what was happening. The fire sprinklers were raining down around him, the lights were off, and the smell of smoke was making it hard to breathe. The sounds of kids screaming and sobbing was overpowering the efforts of teachers to try and calm them down. Outside, loud bangs and explosions could be heard. Sometimes really close, sometimes overhead, and sometimes far away.

Slipping out of the cafeteria, the young Grant ran back to the only safe place that he could think of. He arrived at the door to his class room, hoping to find his teacher and maybe Superboy… only to be greeted by the sight of a gaping hole in the side of the school. It was as though the hand of God had scooped out the inside of the room.

Tacked up against what remained of a bulletin board, a child’s illustration slowly burned as cinders in the air caught against the paper.

It was a crayon drawing that Lor-Zod had made of he and Adam trick-or-treating dressed up as Superman and the Flash.

Happy memories on fire before the child’s own eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tears ran down the scorched cheeks of the young, tawny-haired boy. Through glimpses of a blurred world, Lor-Zod had at last begun to strike back at his attacker. He was faster than she was, but his smaller stature and shorter limbs still made it far easier for her to strike at him. In the process of landing a blow of his own, Lor found it necessary to absorb a strike from her in order to close the gap between them.

His left side hurt. His right shoulder burning as though it were on fire.

Still they danced, the boy never surrendering nor giving any quarter to his opponent. He fought as Zod’s were trained to fight. Blow for blow, blood for blood.

But it seemed he was coming up short in their one-on-one battle amid the clouds. If he closed the distance, she hammered him with far more blows than he did her. And he increased the distance, then she was out of his reach and he was made an easy target for her energy blasts.

The advantage was hers, clearly. So how could he make it his?

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

“The mid-year report card looks good,” Fiona Ross commented, the most brief of delays halting the motions of the Department of Metahuman Affairs deputy director through the video teleconference. ”I think his school performance is improving, as well as his social skills. What else is new on the island?”

“I just returned a blood sample to Albert, with a complete genetic breakdown,” Donovan answered, the geneticist stroking his moustache as he took a degree of satisfaction in having just done an analysis of alien DNA. “Remarkable variation, but really very hu--”

”What blood sample?”

Dabney blinked. Surely Fiona wouldn’t have missed a detail such as that. “Albert had it. Said it was from when Superboy came back from the Starro disaster… thing… world ending whatever.”

“None of the reports indicated he had any external bleeding,” Fiona stated flatly, the woman now pulling out a laptop as she started to call up the reports on the incident. “Significant bruising, but no lacerations or any indications that his skin was compromised. And that’s a direct quote from Albert’s own medical report.”

“Then who’s blood did I just..?”

Simultaneously on each other’s screen, an intern burst into the room and announced, “There’s a problem with Superboy!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * :super: * * * * * * * * * * * *

The woman’s fist slammed against the side of the boy’s head, the force sending him sailing through the air… and right into another of her energy blasts. Tumbling head over heels in a reverse motion through the air, Lor-Zod managed to get his bearings in time to avoid the second blast – finding himself in a deadly game of dodgeball as he darted through her field of fire in an attempt to get back into arm’s reach of the fiery woman.

The momentary view of the area below them had at last given him an idea however…

The Superboy slammed into the woman, tackling her with every ounce of momentum that the child could muster, and then plunged them both downward – pushing against the force of air with all of his might, gaining inertia and speed with every second.

“What are you doing!?” Momentarily surprised, the woman caught on quickly to the boy’s plan. Igniting her whole body into white hot flame, Lor-Zod winced with the urge to release the woman from his grip.

Instead, he held on tighter. He need only endure it a moment…

B O O M

The splashdown into Metropolis bay sent a torrent of water nearly one mile high from the force of impact, the fire immediately extinguished as the water swirled around them. The cold, ocean fed water felt good as it rushed over the burned skin. The call of the dark, deep below threatening to take Lor-Zod all the way with it to the briny bottomless depths of the sea…

Instead, the boy reached out and took hold of the now unconscious form of his opponent. His father would say that it was the victor’s right to let her die. She had chosen to challenge him, and he had proved himself the better of the two through combat. Kal-El wouldn’t agree though, he’d say that mercy was the better part of valor.

Since when did a Zod listen to anything an El had to say?

The woman’s body exploded from out of the water, slamming down on an old dock that jutted out from the nearby harbor. Emerging from out of the dark waters, the smoldering form of the Superboy floated up into the air.

Snow had begun to fall, the child putting back his head as he allowed himself a moment in which to enjoy the chill of winter’s kiss.

Landing on the dock beside the unconscious woman, the boy pointed a finger downward and proudly declared, “Don’t bring that weak… uh, crap in my neighbor… hood…” the child managed, staggering forward a step before a sensation like a wall slamming into his mind suddenly struck. The strength seemed to drain out of his body, all of his consciousness melting away in a single moment where the world blurred once more.

And faded to darkness.

Byrd Man

12-24-2011, 08:37 PM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Previously

Pennsylvania
December 24th
11:04 PM

My truck cuts through the dark Pennsylvania night. Snow is beginning to fall from the sky and stick to the ground.

"Alright," I say to the pregnant woman sitting on the seat beside me. "Talk."

Janet Lebowitz has an eighty thousand dollar bounty on her head, but apparently someone is interested in doing more than bringing her into federal custody. A half hour ago, three men tried to kill her and me. That's why the back window of my truck is shot out.

"Those guys were sent by Harry Trafficante. He runs rackets in Pittsburgh. My husband Joe and I worked for him, helped him launder money. He wants me killed because I can bring him down. Those three guys are the ones who killed Joe a few months ago."

"If you're scared, why'd ya'll escape custody and rob a bank?"

"We were scared, okay? We were afraid that Trafficante could get to us even in federal custody. But Harry caught up to us. At first, he said we could buy our way outta trouble by robbing that bank. Joe was meeting with him to give him the money from the robbery when they killed him...I panicked."

"Well, I'm taking you to Philly. The Marshals will look at you and yer baby. You tell them all you told me and they'll help you out."

We drive in silence for nearly a half hour. A red light appears on the dash and the temperature gauge shoots up.

"Goddammit..." I say under my breath. The truck's radiator is pouring steam as I pull to the side of the road. I get out and look at, kicking the side of the truck in anger. The snow's beginning to fall faster. The guys after us can't be too far behind.

"Come on," I say to Lebowitz as I help her from the truck. "The nearest town is just a mile down the road. It's..."

I look up at the sign post and roll my eyes.

"You gotta be ****ing with me."

One mile down the road is the town of Bethlehem. We trudge through the snow, but it's slow going with the ice and the fact that Lebowitz is about to pop.

Lights splash on the highway, a car is coming down the road fast.

"Come on."

I lead her off the highway and through a field. We climb over a fence and come down inside a barnyard. Off in the distance, the car is parked on the side of the road.

"Get in the barn."

I help Lebowitz inside the barn. Goats, cows, and a horse are all in their stalls. I lead her to an empty stall and look out through the cracks in the wall.

"They're coming. You stay here."

"Can do," she says, gritting her teeth and rubbing her stomach.

"Jesus Christ, woman. Whatever is about to go down, keep that damn baby inside of you."

I walk out the barn, my .45 in my hands. Standing at the entrance to the barnyard are the three men, each of them packing pistols. The snow swirls around the barnyard as a gust of wind picks up.

"This is my type of Christmas party. Now, which one of you sons of *****es brought the frankincense and myrrh?"

yZUZ_twxVwY

Bethlehem, PA
December 24th
11:45 PM

One of the hitmen draws first, I shoot from the hip and get off three shots that strike him center mass. Three bullets to the chest. He crumples to the ground like a bag of potatoes. I'm on the move as the other two hitmen open fire. Bullets whiz all around me as I dive into the snow, twisting as I slide on the ground. I take aim and get a headshot on one of the two remaining assassins. The hitman goes limp and falls face first into the snow, blood pouring from his head.

The one assassin left standing hits me in the calf. I growl and pick myself up off the ground, firing at the hitman and sending him running. I limp through the snow and crash into the barn. Lebowitz is still hiding in her side stall. She's groaning and grabbing her belly.

"The hell did I say, woman? Keep that goddamn baby in yer belly long enough to get through this!"

"He's coming, you ***hole! I can't do nothing to stop it!"

The barn door crashes open and the hitman tackles me, driving me into the muddy barn floor. My gun slips from my hands and slides into the dark. The livestock go wild and yell as we wrestle on the floor. My hat flies off my head as I grab the Guido mobster by the neck and shove his face into the mud. The assassin kicks me in the balls and I fall back.

"Get the **** offa me!" He says in a thick New York accent. "Goddamn redneck hick."

He reaches down for a snubnose .38 in an ankle holster while I reach into my pocket and pull out my switchblade. The mobster aims just as I snap open the blade and toss it. The knife buries itself into his neck and comes out the other side. Blood squirts down his chest and neck as he falls back to the floor. I crawl across the floor and pick up his .38, aiming at him as I pick myself up.

"Gah!" Lebowitz screams from the other side of the barn. "Call a goddamn ambulance! Now!"

I reach into the dead man's pocket and grab his cellphone.

*******

Philadelphia, PA
December 25th
1:34 AM

I limp down the hall of the hospital, the bullet in my leg removed and the wound bandaged. A US Marshal is standing outside a room, his arms crossed.

"Can I go in?"

"Yeah, sure. But don't stay too long. The US Attorney is on his way, plus I gotta interview you and her about what went down in that barn."

I nod and go inside the room where Janet Lebowitz is laying in the bed, a baby in her arms.

"Didn't take too long," I say, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside the bed.

"Thank God for that. My mother was in labor with me for like 13 hours."

We sit in silence and she cradles the little boy.

"US Attorney is on his way," I break the silence. "You tell him what you told me, shouldn't be no problem for them to relent on those charges. They got bigger fish to fry."

"What about you? You killed three men tonight."

"Killed three men who were tryin' to kill me and a woman with information relating to a federal case. If anything, they owe me more than the 80,000 I just earned."

I watch as she plays with her baby, smiling as she touches the baby's cheek. Wonder if my momma ever smiled when I was born? I doubt it.

"Is it a boy or girl?"

"A little boy. I think I'll name him after his Dad. Joe seems like a good name for a boy."

"Just don't name him some pussy ass name like 'Cody' or 'Jordan.'"

I stand up and look down at Lebowitz.

"I'll leave you two to yourselves. Hope it all works out fer you."

"Thank you for saving me...saving us."

"Don't thank me. Just thank the Marshals fer putting out a high reward."

I turn to leave, limping towards the door. I touch the handle when she calls to me.

"Mr. Hex? Merry Christmas."

I turn and look at her, tipping my hat.

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

Bounce

12-25-2011, 11:38 AM

https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vpcQCu7TmI4/TrWIdzD9GaI/AAAAAAAAACo/PWDXt_-24uM/w317-h96-k/lor_zod3.png

“We’ve got reports of a metahuman in the area…”

Fiona’s voice crackled through the headphones that Dabney wore, the two project managers circling above Metropolis in an unmarked, black helicopter owned by the Department of Metahuman Affairs – one which had ferried Fiona Ross swiftly from Washington to Metropolis. Adjusting the microphone in front of his face, Donovan said, “Don’t tell me one of those Legion of *******s came after him.”

“They’re terrorists. The point of terrorism is to induce fear. From their perspective, wouldn’t attacking a 3rd grader make sense? It would make Metropolis fearful of the metahumans among them as well as this Legion of Doom.”

Donovan swore under his breath. He hated it when Ross was right. “You think they’ll kick him out of the school over this?”

“I think we’ll be lucky if General Lane and Leon Panetta aren’t already getting the President to sign over Project Superboy over this.”

Donovan swore again. First it was monsters in outer space, then it was a mutated Micah Flint, now it was the Legion of Doom. But the enemy behind all others was the damn Pentagon and a group of generals who just wanted to beat Superman in an arm-wrestling contest. And were willing to stomp over a small boy to be able to do it.

A loud barking echoed through the helicopter, the white-furred canine that Superboy kept having been coasting alongside the helicopter. Suddenly, Krypto plunged downward toward Metropolis Bay.

“You think he’s found Superboy?”

“That or a squirrel,” Donovan answered dryly, then reached forward to tap the pilot on the shoulder. “Follow that dog!”

So this is Christmas
And what have you done
Another year over
And a new one just begun

“Mister President, the Joint Chiefs and I believe this incident is just one example of why a civilian agency can’t be trusted with Project Superboy.”

There many occasions in which General Samuel Lane had stood in the Oval Office at the White House, but never before had he worn such a satisfied smirk as he did now. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration had had their little poster child, and the Department of Metahuman Affairs had made their run at controlling the potential to use metahumans as weapons in the battlefield of the future. But now it was the Department of Defense’s turn.

They’d all seen what Superman had done to Polikistan. It proved how great a threat Superman was, and also just what the United States could achieve with that power. Iraq and Afghanistan would be secured within a day. Russian objections over the NATO missile shield in Europe silenced in mere seconds. “NASA’s handling of the situation has clearly placed the civilian population in danger, Mister President,” General Lane commented.

He’d definitely need a drink to celebrate later. The director of NASA and the Secretary of Metahuman Affairs were both outright shaking, each visualizing their political careers crumbling beneath their feet.

“Mister President, the DMA had had close oversight on NASA and…”

“And still we turned an elementary school into a target for terrorists,” the President remarked, folding his hands down on the desk. “Let me be clear, my administration will not condone any action taken that preferences the needs of metahumans – in particular an illegal alien – over the rights and safety of ordinary U.S. citizens.”

And so this is Christmas
I hope you have fun
The near and the dear one
The old and the young

Consciousness returned, but seemed to remain elusive. A glimpse of reality coming in short bursts at the very edge of sensation. Someone was cradling him, calling his name. His body felt heavy, flashes of pain shooting through him as though his skin were on fire. He had trouble opening his eyes, or keeping them open, as the world seemed a kaleidoscope of colors and blurred shapes.

He felt a hand brush across his forehead, sweeping the mop of brown hair aside. A voice spoke. Dabney’s voice. Blinking his eyes, Lor-Zod began to see the man’s face begin to appear through the haze. Dabney was the one who was holding him, the boy realized.

Then seemed to shoot straight up when he remembered the school.

Pushing his way from Dabney’s lap, the young Kryptonian staggered as he tried to find his footing. “Where are you going?” he heard Donovan ask behind him.

Lor stumbled, the energy still draining from his body even as he tried to take just one more step. “The school’s on fire. I have to…”

Donovan’s hands took hold of his shoulders, spinning the Superboy around to look up at the man in a daze. “The fire trucks are at the school. They’ve put out the fire,” the man said patiently.

“Adam… everyone’s in danger…”

“Shh… Everyone’s safe now,” Dabney said, in the same patient tone, as he drew the small boy toward him. Patting the child on the back, the man added, “You’re safe now.”

Donovan realized then that something was wrong. Not necessarily wrong, but different. It was only a moment later that the man realized that Superboy was shaking. Drawing back to take a look at the child, Dabney was presented by his complete ineptitude when it came to children. He had no idea what was wrong, until…

That look on his face. Oh, ****.

The man had just enough time to brace before the tantrum set it, a loud wail like a sonic boom tearing through the harbor as Lor-Zod began to cry. Exhaling in a deep sigh, Donovan slipped his hands underneath the child’s arms and lifted him up. As always, it was a startling revelation just how small and light that Superboy was. Holding the sobbing Kryptonian against him, the scientist made his way back toward to helicopter – all the while rubbing the child’s back and repeating that everything would be fine.

Donovan only hoped that were true.

A very Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

“…So were you afraid when the attack happened?”

“I was until I heard that Superboy was fighting the person who lit the school on fire,” Adam Grant told the reporter, the incident at the school having appeared in news broadcasts across the nation – from the local station that owned his show to CNN and MSNBC. “After that, I wasn’t afraid anymore ’cause I knew Superboy would protect us!”

“So are you excited to hear that Superboy will be appearing on the Uncle Oswald Show?”

Oswald spit his beer in surprise, leaping closer to the television as he turned up the volume. Had it been leaked? Did children really know? The man leaned close as he anxiously waited to hear the answer.

“Oh, uh… the what?”

That was it. That was the reaction. The child… had never even heard of him.

“Wait, isn’t that the show with the magician on it?”

Oswald beamed, his hope reinvigorated. So the children did remember him!

“I don’t think Superboy would do a show like that. It sucks,” Adam answered finally. The blond-haired boy pausing before a look of embarrassment gripped him. “Oh! Am I allowed to say that on TV?”

And so this is Christmas
For weak and for strong
For rich and the poor ones
The world is so wrong

Taking a hand towel from the rack, Donovan began to gingerly dry the boy’s hair. His clothes had literally burned onto this skin in places, a calamine bath and a nap seemingly the best course of action in handling the hurt and frightened Superboy. These were times when Dabney wondered why the universe had seen fit to literally drop an alien child on his doorstep, he was the absolute least qualified person on the planet to raise a Kryptonian eight year old.

Applying some lotion to the boy’s right shoulder, the man dressed the large burn there and then proceeded to clean up the ones on the child’s arms and face. Carefully, Donovan slipped the child’s favorite nightshirt over him and then scooped him up. “Do you want to lie down?”

Lor-Zod just shook his head.

“Do you want to watch cartoons?” The boy simply nodded. With a quiet sigh, Donovan carried the small alien through the facility to the lounge. Lying out in the hallway, Krypto shook himself off and trotted into the room alongside the pair. As Donovan took a seat, cradling Superboy in his lap, the canine stepped up on the sofa and laid down with his muzzle resting against Lor-Zod’s leg. Picking up the remote, Donovan turned on the television and began flipping toward Cartoon Network.

“…many tonight are asking themselves, should metahuman children attend the same schools as…”
“…do you want this Superboy going to school with your kid? Cause, let me tell you, I sure don’t want him going to school with my…”
“…tonight a special on Superboy: Child Hero or a Danger to Your Child…”

It was a relief when he’d finally flipped past all of the news networks to arrive at Adventure Time on Cartoon Network. Letting his arm and the remote collapse onto the sofa beside him, Donovan put his head back and braced himself for what seemed like it might be a long night.

They just sat there, whether either of them were paying any attention to what was on the television was a good question. Superboy wasn’t laughing or giggling as he usually did when he watched The Amazing World of Gumball or Ben 10. Neither of them said anything, until…

“I don’t want to be Superboy anymore.”

And so Happy Christmas
For black and for white
For yellow and red ones
Let's stop all the fight

Oswald landed out in the alley with a loud splash. Beside him, his suitcase of gags hit the pavement, popping open and spilling out colorful handkerchiefs, cards, and other cheap gadgets.

Picking himself up on his knees, the man turned back toward the door. “Wait! I’ve got other ideas! The audiences will come back!”

“It’s over Oz,” his manager said firmly. “It was over a long time ago.”

“No! The children love me! You’ll see, they’ll come back!”

“No. They don’t,” the man said, turning to shut the door. “And, no, they won’t.”

And, with that, the door shut on the Uncle Oswald Show.

A very Merry Christmas
And a Happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one
Without any fear

“I’ve got an executive order here from the President himself,” General Lane announced, slapping a document down on the table. “Congratulations, Dr. Michaels. Project Superboy is all yours,” the general added, extending a hand out toward the medical doctor.

Albert smiled coldly, keeping his hands in his pockets even as his eyes shifted to the document Lane had just thrown down. “I trust funding won’t be a problem then?”

“We’ll make sure you have everything you need,” Lane boasted, leveling a cold look of his own at the arrogant figure before him. “And I trust it won’t be a problem developing that weapon that I want.”

“I’ve already developed a weapon that can kill Superboy, my dear General,” Albert Michaels commented, practically with a yawn, as though the conversation were boring him. “And I can give you an army of super-soldiers just as physically capable as Superman himself.”

From out of his pocket, Michaels produced a vial of blood. One which he casually tossed at Lane as he added, “And now I have what I need to bring it back to life.”

Batman

12-27-2011, 11:08 PM

http://img824.imageshack.us/img824/4810/catwomanredo.png

This is officially the craziest thing I've ever done.

Hell, two or three times since I came here, I've even considered backing out of it. I mean, it's not like I could really bring myself to be ashamed of walking away - when you get right down to basics, it was nothing more than an impulsive move made in a moment of anger, and I have every reason to just let it go and forget that the wicked little thought ever entered my head. And yet being here now, knowing that I'm standing under the same roof of a man that's done enough damage to others to warrant a hell of alot worse than anything I could ever do - I almost want to kick myself for not wanting to. There's an aura about this place that's indescribable, like I've stepped into a prison inhabitated by only one prisoner. It's obviously a man's home, as his many scattered belongings do wonders to indicate, but at the same time it all feels so much colder than that. Like it never really was a home to anyone.

Maybe I'd be doing everyone a favor. I don't know about that, and I don't personally even care. This wasn't something I decided for them. This is for me, and me alone. For all that he stole from me, pilfered right out from under me like a thief in the night. A touch of hypocrisy, I realize, but this goes beyond a couple of jewels or a safe full of money. This is about what happens when you cross the black cat infront of your path, and being so foolish for thinking it'll never scratch you back. Grabbing one of the several canisters of kerosene at my feet, I unscrew the cap and immediately begin to pour it onto the floor in a straight line. The next few follow, and I lead the trail through the bedroom, into the hallway and the living room.

Of course, I'm talking about Nygma. Edward Nygma, the former Lieutenant of Gotham Central, and the only man to know I murdered a man. And the person who helped me to get away with it. When it first happened, I had always thought he was risking everything just to cover up my mistake - possibly the biggest mistake of my life. Now I've come to realize that he was only acting out of habit, having perfected the art of getting away with murder in Gotham. The list of his victims goes on longer than the news reports on television will probably say, but it was enough to send me over the edge. The worst part is that I don't know what pissed me off more - the fact that he pushed Maroni out of a window before I could get to him, or the fact that I know he'll never be able to react to this.

Like I said. It's more for me than anyone else. I'll know that once I light a match and set this trail ablaze, everything that once was the man goes up in flames. I even managed to collect everything I could find that looked like it held some value - his wall of scrap clippings from all the big cases, like The Hangman murders and Holiday killings, a massive collection of crossword puzzles, pictures of a woman that I can only assume is his mother - and pile them onto the living room floor. They're going to burn first, leading through the rest of the apartment. I know I shouldn't care, but I'm feeling too many emotions not to.

What got to me the most were the photos I found beneath his bed. Lots of them thrown together in a box, and mostly of some redhead high school brat that he seemed to have something of an unhealthy infatuation. But more than a few of them were of another person he couldn't quite let go of: They're of me. A few from afar, a couple of them on the street. Even some of me through the window of the penthouse I've been using these past couple of months. None of them taken when I ever knew I was being watched, and a few that I wish were never even seen.

And that bastard kept them all.

A deep breath passes my lips, and I pull out the book of matches.

Nobody lives on any of the immediate floors below. I checked, just to make sure I wouldn't be killing anyone. Despite a cop's salary, the only building that Nygma ever chose to live in throughout his decade of service was rotting with mold. It seems that with everything else tied to his name, Nygma chose to live in misery aswell. He just should have never tried to inflict it on others.

I strike the match, looking out on the remnants of a sad, pathetic existence that no one's ever going to miss. And as if ripping off a bandage, I close my eyes as I drop it and light the fluid.

"You deserve worse."

By the time I escape through the window, the room behind me is already lit up. Perching on the adjacent rooftop, all I can think to do is sit there and watch it burn, thinking of everything terrible thing he's ever done to people like me. And how good it feels to know that I didn't just sit by and let him get away with it.

Enjoy your first Christmas as a vegetable, Edward.

http://i781.photobucket.com/albums/yy98/DCMarvelRPG2/Catwoman/Bats5-4.png

I hope you get to suffer through many more.

MST3K 4ever

12-29-2011, 01:17 PM

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/GRODDBANNER.jpg

Grodd continues studying the videos and information about Flash.

He's fast and he has tremendous power, but he is young and not very intelligent. He relies on his wit to be a distraction and to save him.

Grodd then begins mapping out sightings and occurrences over a 48 hour period.

I think I'm onto something here.

He begins smiling and nods his head.

Oh yes. A plan is forming to deal with that simple-minded fool.

Grodd begins to laugh, a laugh that morphs into a primal roar!

MST3K 4ever

12-29-2011, 01:41 PM

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/penguinbanneredit.jpg

Oswald steps onto the stage to thunderous ovation at the Excalibur Dining Club in the Gotham Hilton.

He motions for quiet and says, "Thank you thank you all oh so much please be seated. Thank you thank you very much."

The crowd settles in and he says, "Ladies and Gentlemen I am honored to be among you all this evening. We are all from different parts of our fine city, we all have differing ways of giving back to the city we all love so much, and we all have different points of view on many issues nationally, but one thing we can all agree upon is that Gotham City is in need of experienced leadership in the state senate and the person to give us that is Senator Armond Krol!"

The crowd applauds and Oswald takes a drink of water.

He continues, "Senator Krol has proven time and again that he is a man we can trust and not one who can be bullied by lobbyists or special interests. He has worked hard to obtain his position and he will continue to work hard for the glory of Gotham City!"

The crowd erupts again and Oswald continues with his speech.

After about 5 minutes Oswald says, "But enough about me let's bring up the man you all came here to hear Senator Armond Krol!"

The crowd erupts into a standing ovation as Krol and Oswald meet on the stage and shake hands.

They smile for a photo-op and Krol whispers through a smile, "Thanks for the endorsement."

Oswald replies in the same way, "Just remember this is a loan not a gift."

Oswald then leaves the stage.

Well that was painless enough and I now have a Senator who owes me. Add him to the pile.

Oswald hops in his blue Lamborghini and drives away.

Byrd Man

12-31-2011, 12:51 PM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

Jesse and Wally are in the backyard, snow falling from the sky and coating the ground in a thin layer of the white stuff. They've been calling for snow all week, now it's here.

I appear before the two of them, vibrating my body to obscure my face.

"You wanted to talk."

Both gape at me in disbelief, not really sure I'm actually standing in front of me.

"Go on," Wally says, elbowing her in the ribs. "Tell him."

"Well, uhh, Mister Flash...uhh...sir. It's my father. Johnny Quick, the NFL quarterback. Some people came to our house today and threatened to hurt him if he didn't give them some kind of formula. I don't know what to do. I need your help."

"I'll look into it," I say, remaining aloof and cool as I do my best Batman impression.

"So that's a yes?"

"....Maybe."

"Yes or no, dude?"

"Alright, yes. Jesus, you kids with your attitudes. It's not enough you got a superhero standing your backyard, you want to ruin his mysterious aura. I blame Xbox."

With that, I turn and run away. A few seconds later, I'm back in the house and in my room, my Flash costume stowed away.

"Bart!" Wally says, bursting through my door.

"What about knocking, you little twerp? Privacy, please!"

"Sorry. But listen, Flash was in the backyard! He talked to us!"

"Yeah, right," I say with a chuckle. "And I'm actually the Flash."

"Come to think of it, you have similar builds..."

"So, uhh, what did he want?" I quickly ask, changing topics.

"Private. Just thought you should know. Jealous?"

"You know that I am."

Wally winks at me and leaves my room. I wait until he's gone before I grab my laptop and boot it up. Time to find out everything I know about Johnny Quick.

I know most of this about Mister John Joseph Quick, anyone with access to Wikipedia and free time already knows most about Johnny Quick. Born in Cameron, Missouri, Johnny was a good enough athlete in high school to get a scholarship to the University of Missouri. He was a fourth string quarterback his freshman and sophomore years. But his junior year he came out, won the starting job, and set records. He threw for 4,000 yards with 50 touchdowns, rushed for 600 yards and fifteen touchdowns in his junior year. Mizzou went on to win the Big 12 and the national championship. Johnny came back for his senior year and put up similar numbers, winning a Heisman and another national championship. He was drafted first overall by the Central City Chiefs and, three MVP awards and two Superbowl championships later, the guy is on his way to the hall of fame.

But what nobody else knows that I do, thanks to my police personnel ID, Johnny was questioned in college over the death of one of his professors. During the end of his sophomore, Johnny's math professor Artemus Gill, dropped dead under mysterious circumstances. Johnny was working with Gill for extra credit, and he was the last person to see him alive. The coroner found poison in Gill's body, but Johnny had an alibi. The police never found out who killed him, and the case is still open.

Is that what the thugs were threatening him with? Proof that he was a murderer? And what about this formula Jesse said they were talking about? I think I know what can help me think...a little road trip.

University of Missouri
Columbia, MO
12 seconds later

I phase through the wall of the Columbia Police Department headquarters. The case was originally investigated by the university campus police, but they turned it over to the city police as soon as it became a murder. In the basement is the evidence locker. I'm in and out in the blink of an eye, a box under my arms. Written on the box in red marker is "Case #11076 4/16/95. Gill, Artemis."

I take the box back to my room in Central City and begin to root around in it. It's filled with what Gill was wearing the day he died. Tweed jacket, slacks, bowtie, a notebook, the usual professor stuff.

"What's this?" I ask aloud, pulling a scrap of paper from the jacket pocket. There's something sprawled on it.

("3X2(9XZ)4A")

A mathematical formula...this might be what those guys want from Johnny. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I block the number and text Jesse. I'll meet her in an hour and give her this. Whatever this is, I just hope this doesn't confirm what I've been wondering ever since I read that police report. I don't want to think my childhood idol is a murderer.

Andy C.

12-31-2011, 12:55 PM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

"Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder," I say as I circle Sebastian, or 'Brother Blood' as he's calling himself. "You're going to be put away for a very long time."

Despite the certainty in my voice, there's a waver in my step. Whatever it was he hit me with at the beginning of this fight, it seems to have drained my strength. I feel like I've been running all day through syrup with heavy weights strapped to me.

"I see your mind is just as enfeebled as your body," he says, circling me in turn with long, graceful strides, "if you believe I am beholden to the laws of lesser mortals. The word of Trigon is the only law I obey. My lord and master has promised me the girl. She is mine, as the world is his, to do with as I please."

Brother Blood holds out his hands, and dark red flames seem to ignite in his palms.

"Who are you to stop me, boy?" he asks mockingly.

"Just a concerned citizen," I say, reaching for my utility belt and dropping some smoke pellets onto the floor. The width of the smokescreen's spread and the thickness of the smoke itself is way more than I was expecting--Batman's gear thoroughly outclasses the stuff I had made myself--but it allows me to slip away into the wings.

I don't think I'm in any condition to fight Brother Blood head-on. He must be some kind of metahuman, or maybe equipped with cybernetic weapons. Either way, he's weakened me to a state where I don't believe a direct assault will lead to anything but him killing me.

"Clever, little boy," Brother Blood says, cutting through the smokescreen with flares of crimson fire. "But you cannot hide from me forever. I will find you, and kill you when I do. Against the power of Trigon, there can only be death. If you were wise, you would take the opportunity to run."

The infra-red vision within my new mask's eyepieces let me see exactly where Blood is while he thrashes around in the smoke. Approaching quietly from behind, I roll a flash grenade towards his feet.

*FWASH!*

"Arrgh!" Sebastian snarls, and before he can regain his bearings, I charge with a collapsible billy-club drawn and club him in the knee. The blow isn't as hard as I wanted it to be, but it's enough to take him off his feet.

I wind up for another blow, but suddenly the flames in Brother Blood's hands become large fiery claws, wildly slashing around him. I duck underneath a row of pews, crawling away from him.

"You will suffer for that!" he spits. "I swear it, every second you evade me now will be a week you spend in torment before I allow you to die!"

"It doesn't look like you're in any position to 'allow' me to do anything," my voice carries from behind the pulpit.

Brother Blood lets loose with an enormous blast of blood-red flames, utterly incinerating the old wooden pulpit....

....as well as the small wireless speaker I had planted there to throw him off.

Instead, I swing down from the church's balcony, planting both feet directly into his back. Brother Blood goes crashing to the floor, and I use up the rest of my strength running towards Rachel, still unconscious and unmoving on the altar.

"C'mon....wake up, we.....have to go," I say, my breath ragged, producing a small vial of smelling salts and waving it under her nose. "I can't....can't carry you. You've got.....to wake up. Rachel, please! He's....he's going to--GAAAH!"

Suddenly, it feels like a thousand clawed hands are grabbing me all over, digging their fingernails into my skin as they pull me away from Rachel and into the air.

"Enough of this," Brother Blood growls. "I will not be denied of my prize by some child armed with parlor tricks and toys! I am going to make you beg for death, boy. And your screams will be but the first of many, once humanity is brought under the heel of--"

"STOP!"

A bolt of what looks like living shadow lashes out, striking Brother Blood in the face. He goes tumbling across the church, the old masonry crumbling around him when he slams into a wall.

I fall to the floor, and look up to see what just happened.

"......Rachel?"

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/Raven-teen-titans-481368_600_440.jpg

Tonight just keeps getting weirder.

Byrd Man

12-31-2011, 09:30 PM

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Belle Reve Federal Penitentiary
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

"Who are the new guys?" Rick Flag asked Amanda Waller. The two were watching the security monitor as two guards led two shackled prisoners through the halls of Belle Reve's basement. One was tall and skinny, the other was short and balding.

"The skinny one is John Nichols aka Baxter Timmons. Timmons was a graduate assistant of a Neal Emerson, professor at NYU. Emerson and Timmons were working on an experiment with magnets when they got fried by some kind of magnetic field. Emerson died, but Timmons was given some kind of magnetic powers. So naturally he turned to a life of crime. Calls himself Dr. Polaris. We've got a collar on him that neutralizes his powers. We'll take it off when it comes time for a mission."

"And the little guy?"

"Name's Issac Bowin, he was a concert violinist and talented. A few years ago, he was in a car wreck and busted his leg up. Bowin got addicted to pain pills and his addiction ruined his career. A few months ago, he killed a drug dealer because he wouldn't give him some pills."

"So what can he do?"

"Nothing yet," Waller said, turning away from the monitor. She led Flag to a table where a violin case was sitting in the middle.

"Tell me, Colonel, what do you know about the superhero boom in the 30's and 40's?"

"Not much," Flag said with a shrug. "I know about the Minutemen and the Justice Society, but that's really it."

"Well, there was a hero from the midwest named Mercury. He had superspeed, kind of like the Flash. Well, Mercury used to lock horns with some fool called the Fiddler. He had this violin that could do all kinds of crazy things. He died in a fight with Mercury and the government managed to recover his violin. This is it."

Waller popped open the case and carefully removed the violin from its case.

"Government has tired for years to get people to play it and use it like Fiddler did, none of them could do it. Before he got the monkey on his back, Bowin was argubly the best violin player in the world. If anyone can get it to work, it's him."

"What about Farday?" Flag asked.

"Working on it," Waller said. "You know how intelligence work is. Rome wasn't built in a day, Colonel..."

"But Faraday-"

"I know good and well what Farday did to you, Flag. He double-crossed me as well. Don't think I'm trying to protect him. I'm not."

Flag sighed and rubbed his temples.

"Alright, fine. When's our next mission?"
"Soon. CIA is gathering intel for me. Once they have something concrete, we'll get a mission plan drafted and ready to go."

"The CIA works for you. Tell me, Mrs. Waller...what exactly is your role in the intelligence community?"

"It's simple, Colonel," Waller said with a smirk. "I am the United States intelligence community."

While Flag and Waller talked, Deadshot fired off rounds on the firing range just outside the prison. Bullets ripped apart paper targets as Lawton casually fired from his wrist mounted guns.

"Good shot," Ben Turner, Bronze Tiger, said from behind him. Lawton turned and looked at him, smoke curling from the barrels of his guns.

"I know."

Turner pulled a .45 from his waistband and took off the safety.

"Figured I'd get in some shots too if that's alright."

"Whatever. You're the free man, remember? I'm the prisoner forced to stay here and do this s***."

Turner stepped up beside Lawton and aimed his pistol at the targets. He squeezed the trigger and two shots blasted from his gun, tearing into the targetsat center mass.

"You know, Turner, why the hell did you come back? You were gone a month."

"This is what I do best, Lawton," Turner said, firing off two more shots that struck the targets. "This is all I know."

"Then why not branch out on your own and be a pro like I was?"

"I'm not like that."

"Naah, you are," Lawton said, reloading his guns. "You want to kill. You need to kill. But you don't have the ****ing balls to admit to it."

"I don't think I like your damn tone," Turner spat, turning to Lawton.

"And I don't think I give a good goddamn. You and Flag both, a bunch of goddamn weeping sob sisters who hide behind words like 'patriotism' and 'survivor's guilt' you just don't want to admit it that the two of you are killers like me. You're both ****ing cowards."

Turner struck out, grabbing Lawton by the collar and lifting him up with one hand, sticking the barrel of his gun underneath Lawton's chin with the other hand.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" Lawton quipped. "Do it," he said quietly. "Kill me. Be a goddamn man and squeeze that ****ing trigger. Kill me!"

"No," Turner said, letting Lawton go. "That's what you want me to do, isn't it, you goddamn creep?"

"I don't give a damn either way. Kill me here, kill me on the battlefield, have Waller blow my head off. Doesn't matter. Me, you, Flag, all of us...we're dead already. We were dead the second we joined this team. All of us are just delaying the inevitable."

Lawton reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit up a smoke and took a long drag on it, his eyes continously fixed on Turner.

"Unlike everyone else here, I've embraced that. You all came here looking for redemption and a fresh start...I came here to die. It's good to know that of all the folks afilliated with this outfit, one of them will get what they want."

Byrd Man

12-31-2011, 10:17 PM

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Pickett's Ridge, TN

I pull my truck into the parking lot of the town's only store and get out, looking around at the deserted town. Alexville is nestled high in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Only a town of about 300 or so.

I walk into the general store, looking around for any signs of life.

"Hey there, friend," a young man says from behind the counter. "Help ya with something?"

I pull my hat back, revealing my scarred face. The clerk makes a quick face at the scar, but quickly puts his smile back on.

"Just passin' through. Headed back out west."

Which is sort of true. On my way through the state, I caught word about a bounty being offered up about a man seen around these parts. Fellow by the name of Alex Campbell. Wanted on some heinous s***. Among other things, he's committed arson, a few robberies, and rapes...and then there's rumors about him doing questionable things with goats.
"Well, you need some gas or supplies, I'll be happy to help ya, sir."

"Wonder if you'd do me a favor. Ever hear talk about a fella name of Alex Campbell from around here?"

"Can't say that I have, sir. You might want to check church. They should be letting out about now. I'd have gone myself, but my pa likes someone to keep the store open in case some out of towner passes through."

I tip my hat at the boy and walk out the store. Just up the road, the church is letting out for Sunday services. From the looks of things, the whole damn town was there. I walk up the street, passing the people of the town and their gaping looks.

"God bless you and thanks for coming," the reverend says to an elderly woman as she exits the church. I stand at the foot of the steeps and look up at the preacher. "Afternoon, sir," he says with a smile. "Haven't seen you around these parts. Afraid you missed the service. But that is not to say you missed out on His word."

"Now that you mention it, Reverend," I say, looking him over. "I believe I am in dire need of the word of God."

He's got a beard now, and he's heavier than he was in the mugshot, a good fifty pounds overweight. But there's no doubting that this man of the cloth is Alex Campbell.

"Well come inside, son. The Lord is listening, as am I."

I smile and climb the steps, following him inside the empty church.

Batman

01-02-2012, 02:59 AM

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At times, the blackest corners of the seas could be overwhelming. Even to those who had lived among the seas their entire lives, convinced that they knew every corner of the ocean through a second nature, there was a widely unspoken of sense of peril when thinking of what lied just beneath the surface of a proud and illustrious series of kingdoms that made up Atlantis. Beyond a few careless explorers who entertained the notion, no one ever dared to attempt traveling to the deep pockets of the ocean, much less the bottom itself. Those who had been foolish enough to try were never seen again. The fears were just as present among the group of Poseidonis' Royal Guard, as the vivid blue and green of the water grew increasingly black around them. Some began to act visibly more frightened, tensing and even jumping back at the passing sealife. The only two individuals who knew of the risks - and remained unafraid - led the group further down into the deep.

G'thar's eyes peered towards his dark and cavernous surroundings, growing increasingly skeptical by the moment. Any possibly entrance to such a feared corner of Atlantis was nowhere in sight, and it was only getting more difficult to see. "The King had stated that you knew these territories. Is this really where The Hidden Valley lies?"

Unavoidably, Aquaman's mind was still elsewhere as he swam alongside the General. Flashes of recent memories plagued him, from his dying mother, to his "brother" having revealed himself as the maniacal Ocean Master, all the way back to the visage of the murdered Poseidon. It took a moment before he could finally acknowledge G'thar's concerns.

"Your men have no cause for worry, General. At least not yet. I can tell you that The Valley was surrounded in darkness for a reason."

"I would imagine so, but you didn't answer my question. Our time to find the Princess is short, so we can't afford any waste. Are we close?"

Orin's gaze ahead grew colder, remembering the events that had led him to the Valley in the first place. In truth, he had wished to never come back. It was only through recognition of the King's need for the safe return of his daughter that he could have ignored his own doubts about travelling back to the nightmarish dwelling.

"It certainly feels that way."

Suddenly, the group came to a halt. Several of the Guard looked back in fright, piquing the interest of both G'thar and Aquaman. The one furthest to the back of the group hurriedly swam forth, his sword at the ready.

"General, something follows us, I'm sure of it! We've all heard several strange noises!"

G'thar turned to Aquaman, who simply disregarded the claim.

"Their superstition clouds their focus. There's nothing to find down here but a group of mystics."

The General looked towards his worried companions, quick to disagree.

"Maybe so, but it's worth investigation."

Indicating the two most heavily armed members of the guard, G'thar pointed back towards the darkness. "The two of you, sweep the area. We'll await your return, but be quick."

The two nodded and headed off, leaving Aquaman to wonder to himself whether this was a further waste of their time. The General crossed his arms across his chest, preparing to wait for the inevitable continuation of their search.

"I hope you know what you're talking about. Tula's life is nothing I wish to gamble with."

Orin sneered. "And what makes you so sure that I would, General?"

"I wouldn't presume to know. You're a conquerer of beasts, Aquaman, but that hardly makes you a man of the people."

Glancing at the many medals adorning G'thar's uniform, Orin simply scoffed.

"Not all of us can wear our loyalties on our sleeve."

*crunch*

"ARRGH!"

"HHKK!"

The group instantly became alert as the disturbance brought back an alarming effect - a deep red cloud of blood, floating out from the distance that the two guardsmen had disappeared in. Drawing his blade almost immediately, G'thar pushed past Aquaman and asserted himself to the front of the visibly distraught group, realizing the fate of their two lost comrades.

"We know you're there! Come out, cowards, and show yourselves!"

What emerged from the red was something more terrifying than a simple man or animal. It gazed back with hollowed eyes, and enlongated teeth as sharp as any of their weapons. But what struck the group almost immediately was it's stark resemblance to both man and fish, acting as a perverse hybrid in a way that none had ever seen.

Aquaman swam forth, it's eyes meeting the creature's. Even he didn't recognize what stared back.

http://img408.imageshack.us/img408/1636/aquaman2.jpg

"What in Poseidon's name..."

And immediately, several more appeared from within the darkness, joining together to begin their savage attack.

MST3K 4ever

01-02-2012, 11:47 AM

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Grodd finishes his planning and takes a look at the model of Central City that he has fashioned together.

Soon it will be time for that simple minded boy to learn who truly is his superior.

He begins laying out cards over certain buildings. Some say, "Bomb" others say "fury" or "destruction" and finally "chaos".

Grodd nods approvingly and says, "Now as the humans say so frequently timing is everything. In the daylight he has the advantage of sight, but at night not so much. Daylight human casualties night time not really."

Grodd grabs a handful of trail-mix and begins chomping and then says, "Ahh but around 5pm when everyone is leaving work is perfect and not many people are focused in on things around them. All they want to do is go home to their save happy lives. Which I will take great pleasure in disrupting."

He looks at the clock and then looks out at the city and says, "Rest for now Central City your doomsday is almost at hand."

Grodd then approaches several bombs and beings making final preps on them.

MST3K 4ever

01-02-2012, 11:57 AM

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The Penguin enters his private entrance at the Iceberg Lounge. He begins shaking hands, stopping to chat with the patrons, and posing for pictures. Oswald walks around like a conquering hero returning from a long battle and then his L-Phone buzzes.

The message says: We are ready.

Oswald replies with a two letter response: Go.

He deletes the conversation and continues mingling among the patrons. Who are unaware that their lives are about to be changed forever.

MST3K 4ever

01-02-2012, 12:43 PM

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Rhiannon looks at herself in a full length mirror and shakes her head.

Been a long time since I wore this, but I gotta say my Silver & Black evening gown looks pretty good on me.

She puts on a set of diamond ear-rings and says, "The perfect final touch."

Rhiannon looks at Jarvis her cat for a moment and asks, "Whacha think Jarvis? Do I look like I'm ready for the Met-Tech formal at the Sable Club?"

Jarvis curls up on the bed and begins to purr.

Rhiannon says, "I'll take that as a yes." She sees the picture of her family and pauses for a moment.

Mom says that going out this evening is pretty much the final step in reclaiming my life here. Well until I change into the Atom again and then I'll be all the way back she says. So why do I feel like I'm betraying you all by moving on with my life? I will always love and treasure my life with you all, but I've gotta move on with my life now. It's been a while since I felt alive like this I hope you understand that.

Just then there's a knock her bedroom door and she sees her mother standing there. She nods her head and says, "You look beautiful Rhiannon."

Rhiannon smiles and says, "Thanks mom."

Alice says, "Going out tonight is hard for you. You feel like you're betraying them."

Rhiannon nods and asks, "How did you know?"

Alice replies, "Felt the same way the first time I went out after your father died, but I realize that your father would want me to be happy and to go on living in the moment and not pining away for something that could never be. Life is a celebration Rhiannon now go and celebrate."

Rhiannon nods and says, "Thank you mom. I love you."

They embrace and Alice says, "I love you too."

Just then there is a knock at her front door and Rhiannon looks at her mom and smiles and says, "That's him!"

Alice replies, "I suggest you answer the door."

Rhiannon says, "Oh yeah right. How do I look?"

Alice looks at her as if to say, "Gimme a break."

Rhiannon says, "Right."

She opens the door and standing there is Dr. Kent Nelson. Astronomy professor and he says, "Good evening Rhiannon."

Rhiannon replies, "Hi Dr. Nel...I mean Kent."

He chuckles and asks, "Are you ready to go?"

Rhiannon nods and says, "Oh yes and oh before we go umm Kent my mom Alice Palmer. Mom Dr. Kent Nelson."

Kent and Alice chuckle and shake hands and she says, "Nice to meet you Dr. Nelson."

He replies, "It's Kent Mrs. Palmer."

She replies, "Thank you Kent."

Kent says, "Well if you'll excuse Mrs. Palmer."

Alice says, "Yes by all means. Have fun this evening."

Kent walks ahead and as she closes the door Alice looks at Rhiannon and mouths, "Not bad lookin'!"

Rhiannon nods smiling and mouths, "I know!"

As she shuts the door all the way Kent and Rhiannon walk to his car. She feels the wind pick up slightly and a whispering voice say, "Be happy mom. Be happy."

Rhiannon smiles very broadly as her and Kent head to the Sable Club.

Oh yeah I think I'm gonna be just fine.

Byrd Man

01-03-2012, 01:00 AM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

I know most of this about Mister John Joseph Quick, anyone with access to Wikipedia and free time already knows most about Johnny Quick. Born in Cameron, Missouri, Johnny was a good enough athlete in high school to get a scholarship to the University of Missouri. He was a fourth string quarterback his freshman and sophomore years. But his junior year he came out, won the starting job, and set records. He threw for 4,000 yards with 50 touchdowns, rushed for 600 yards and fifteen touchdowns in his junior year. Mizzou went on to win the Big 12 and the national championship. Johnny came back for his senior year and put up similar numbers, winning a Heisman and another national championship. He was drafted first overall by the Central City Chiefs and, three MVP awards and two Superbowl championships later, the guy is on his way to the hall of fame.

But what nobody else knows that I do, thanks to my police personnel ID, Johnny was questioned in college over the death of one of his professors. During the end of his sophomore, Johnny's math professor Artemus Gill, dropped dead under mysterious circumstances. Johnny was working with Gill for extra credit, and he was the last person to see him alive. The coroner found poison in Gill's body, but Johnny had an alibi. The police never found out who killed him, and the case is still open.

Is that what the thugs were threatening him with? Proof that he was a murderer? And what about this formula Jesse said they were talking about? I think I know what can help me think...a little road trip.

University of Missouri
Columbia, MO
12 seconds later

I phase through the wall of the Columbia Police Department headquarters. The case was originally investigated by the university campus police, but they turned it over to the city police as soon as it became a murder. In the basement is the evidence locker. I'm in and out in the blink of an eye, a box under my arms. Written on the box in red marker is "Case #11076 4/16/95. Gill, Artemis."

I take the box back to my room in Central City and begin to root around in it. It's filled with what Gill was wearing the day he died. Tweed jacket, slacks, bowtie, a notebook, the usual professor stuff.

"What's this?" I ask aloud, pulling a scrap of paper from the jacket pocket. There's something sprawled on it.

("3X2(9XZ)4A")

A mathematical formula...this might be what those guys want from Johnny. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I block the number and text Jesse. I'll meet her in an hour and give her this. Whatever this is, I just hope this doesn't confirm what I've been wondering ever since I read that police report. I don't want to think my childhood idol is a murderer.

IC: Jesse Quick

From in my room I look at the papers Flash gave me just an hour ago. There's some kind of formula, along with the notebook that belonged to this Professor Gill. This is the one that those men want...but why?

It takes me nearly almost another hour to make sense of Gill's handwriting...but as I do, things start to make sense. And I'm getting scared.

"Jesse," Dad asks as he knocks on my door. "You been in there for a good while. You alright, sweetie?"

I lick my lips and take a deep breath.

"Umm...no. Could you come in?"

He comes into my room, looking me over.

"What's wrong, baby? I know you don't need help with your homework, yu being so smart and all that..."

"We need to talk."

"Okay. What's on your mind?"

"Tell me about Professor Gill, Dad."

Dad's face goes pale. He rubs the back of his head and looks down at his feet, pacing around the room before he finally flops on the bed beside me.

"Jesse, how do you know that name?"

"I heard those men the other day. Heard them threaten you and ask for some kind of formula. I did some research and found out about him."

"I worked for him in college for extra credit, but that was it."

He blinks his eyes real fast and then rubs his chin. That's his tell. That's how you know he's lying.

"Tell me the truth, Dad."

"I...I was helping him on his research..."

"Research into unlocking untapped potential, right?"

"Yes. Gill was a bit crazy, but he thought there was something inside each and every person. The ability to make us great. All we needed was a little help. You spoke the formula outloud, and it activated those dormant parts of the brain."

"That's what the formula was?'

"Yeah. But it's incomplete. Gill was working on it when he died."

"I know. I think I solved it..."

"What? How?"

"I added and subtracted in a few places."

"Well, it couldn't do all he said it could, but it did-"

"Make someone run faster, be stronger. Enough to say, stand out on a football field."

Dad puts his head in his hands.

"Goddammit, Jesse! You don't think I regretted making that decision every damn day!"

"You...you murdered him..."

Dad snaps his head back up and looks at me.

"No, baby. I didn't kill Professor Gill. Those men coming after me, they're the ones that did it. Guy named Benny did it, he was arrested for something else back then. But now he's back and he knows about me. He knows what I did."

Lights flash on the house as a car pulls into the driveway. Dad leaps up off the bed and looks out the window.

"Oh, my God...It's them. They've come for us. Run, Jesse!"

Dad pushes me off the bed and hustles me out door. We run down the steps just as two men are busting into the front door, guns pulled out.

"Go, Jesse!"

Dad tackles one of them and drives him to the floor. I turn tail and run, the other one following behind me. I hear him getting closer as I run through the house. He's almost on me when I hit the back door and run through the backyard. He's going to catch me. I need to be faster...I need...

"("3X2(9YZ)4A")!"

The world suddenly blurs all around me. I tear through the backyard and down the street. I'm halfway across the city before I come to a sliding stop.

It worked. Professor Gill's formula actually worked! Suddenly, I remember why I used it in the first place. Dad. Those men had guns. Whatever this does to me, I can't take them on head on. I need help. I need...the Flash.

Byrd Man

01-03-2012, 01:42 AM

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Over The Atlantic
0204 Local Time

The cargo plane bounced around from turbulence. Inside the hold, leaning against a crate of canned peaches, was Rick Flag. He was dozing, his M4 in his lap. To his right, Lawton was laying on the floor of the plane with a cigarette in his mouth. Dr. Polaris was leaning up against a crate away from the others, sleeping. Nightshade was laying on the only cot set up inside the cargo hold, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady.

"You awake, Flag?" The voice of Amanda Waller chirped in his ear.

"I'm here," Flag said, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "I trust you finally have a briefing ready?"

"Just basics. The finer details are above your paygrade."

"Why am I not shocked? Go ahead. I guess something is better than nothing."

"For the past eight months, we've had an undercover intelligence officer placed inside the terrorist organization known as Kobra. He's been delivering us top-grade intel. 24 hours ago, the undercover agent went into red alert mode. He was under the belief that he had been made, his identity had been compromised. He bolted from Kobra's HQ in Egypt and took a plane of South Africa. He's in Cape Town as we speak, awaiting evac. He's your mission. Get him stateside safely."

"What's the tradecraft for meeting him?"

"I'm getting that information from his handlers as we speak. Soon as I know it, I'll relay it to you."

"One more thing...," Flag said, his eyes drifting over to Polaris. "Why Polaris? Why not Ben or Vertigo?"
"Turner's got the flu. Despite his protests, him going on this mission is the last thing we need. Sick men make mistakes. Vertigo is useless until he fixes his eyepiece. Fool Russian blew it out, it'll take some time to fix. Anything else, Colonel?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good. Your plane should land in Cape Town in about five hours. One last thing, this man is of the highest priority to US intelligence. He has been deeper inside a terrorist organization than any undercover to date. His knowledge is priceless. So, you either come back with our undercover...or you don't come home at all. Waller out."

With that, the line went dead. Flag shook his head and laid on the floor, curling up on the floor of the cargo plane with the assault rifle firmly in his hands.

Andy C.

01-03-2012, 02:34 AM

Aswan High Dam
Aswan, Egypt

Overlooking the Nile River, the Aswan High Dam provided energy and ecological stability for an enormous swath of the country. It was able to control the Nile's notorious flooding, allowing the river valley to become ideal for agriculture. Without the dam, the farm land would be flooded, leading to catastrophic drought and famine that would kill millions and cripple the entire nation.

This, of course, was what made it such a tempting target for someone like Vandal Savage. The immortal man casually strolled along the top of the colossal structure, underneath the "Lotus Flower" tower built as a symbol of friendship between Egypt and the Soviet Union, who had helped them build the dam in the first place. Behind him, the Egyptian President Fahim Farook did his best to put on a brave face, a difficult feat with the gag in his mouth and his hands in chains.

"Doom," Savage said, more to himself than to his prisoner. "Some might call it fate, or others destiny, but I've always felt that 'doom' always had a certain feeling of....inevitability. It is a driving force in nature, that which connects cause to effect. Events happen, often with profound and world-shattering consequences, and nearly always entirely beyond our control. It's a terrifying prospect, isn't it? The idea that your entire world could be changed, even destroyed, and there is nothing that you can do about it."

Farook stared at the madman stoically, for that was all he was able to do.

"Humans by their very nature hate the idea of doom," he continued. "It makes them feel helpless, weak, unable to truly have any control over the course of their own lives. I've been around long enough to know that weak and helpless is exactly what people are. Plan what you may, fight it all you want, but no one, rich or poor, strong or weak, good or evil, can avert their doom. Today will be a demonstration of just that."

Reaching into the pocket of his long black coat, Savage pulled out a small wireless radio, and spoke.

"You may begin."

From a small van miles away, Professor Anthony Ivo's fingers flew frantically across his keyboard, entering line after line of malicious code into the computer systems controlling the dam, disabling security measures, overriding safety protocols, and disengaging failsafe programs.

A brown and blue blur streaked from one end of the titanic structure to another, as the Cheetah carried Killer Frost to the dam's spillways. Each time they stopped, Frost would let loose with a concentrated blast of sub-zero cold, clogging the spillways with thick sheets of ice.

Within the dam itself, the hydroelectric turbines buzzed and crackled, enormous arcs of energy being pulled from the spinning engines as Zeus drained them of their power. The psychotic metahuman laughed triumphantly, grimly amused at the thought that pathetic mortals could attempt to harness the thunderbolts of the gods, before turning his divine lightning upon the helpless workers caught in his way.

Outside, security guards and first-responding police were vaporized by blasts of violet radiation from the Atomic Skull. Playing upon the fact that the Dam was built largely by the old Soviet empire, Savage had convinced the Skull that its destruction would be a key victory for the Free World, and that his part in it would make him a hero of democracy. Had the skin of his face not already been burned away, the Atomic Skull would have been smiling as he incinerated anyone and everyone that crossed his path.

"Hmmm," said Savage as he scanned the scene. "It seems almost everyone is doing their part. But where is--"

Suddenly, a massive tremor shook the dam, causing President Farook to fall over. Even expecting it, Vandal Savage nearly lost his footing.

"Ah. There he is."

Hundreds of feet below, deep on the floor of the Nile riverbed, the pale, hulking corpse that was Solomon Grundy slammed his fists into the gargantuan wall of concrete in front of him. The beast, while not entirely mindless, had little grasp on what it was doing--it knew to go to this place and tear a wall down.

Once again, the dam shuddered from the force of an unthinkably powerful impact, the shockwave blasting water high into the air. At its base, the Aswan Dam was nearly a kilometer thick. But strength more powerful than death itself propelled the creature below, and it would not relent.

"It shouldn't be much longer now," Savage said to the Egyptian President as the enormous wall of concrete began to crack. "But do think about what I said, Mister President. Your country is about to suffer a disaster from which it will not recover in decades, and there is not a single thing you can do to stop it. Egypt as you know it will die, and you die with it. This, my friend, is your doom."

With that, Savage pulled Fahim Farook to his feet, dragged him to the edge of the dam's wall, and smiling, threw him over the railing into the water below.

Miles away, Professor Ivo activated his teleportation platform, pulling Savage and the rest of the Legion of Doom to a safe distance, with the exception of Grundy, who rammed its shoulder into the dam with the force of a meteor. The kilometer-thick wall of concrete bowed outward, cracking and shattering, before a biblical torrent of water came rushing outward. Finishing the job that Grundy started, the water tore the remainder of the dam apart, then continued downward into the Nile valley, to the hundreds of thousands of people living along it....

Between the unthinkable catastrophe and the assassination of the country's head of state, the Legion of Doom had brought an entire nation to its knees.

Vandal Savage smiled, pleased with himself. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon.

Byrd Man

01-03-2012, 09:32 PM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

IC: Jesse Quick

From in my room I look at the papers Flash gave me just an hour ago. There's some kind of formula, along with the notebook that belonged to this Professor Gill. This is the one that those men want...but why?

It takes me nearly almost another hour to make sense of Gill's handwriting...but as I do, things start to make sense. And I'm getting scared.

"Jesse," Dad asks as he knocks on my door. "You been in there for a good while. You alright, sweetie?"

I lick my lips and take a deep breath.

"Umm...no. Could you come in?"

He comes into my room, looking me over.

"What's wrong, baby? I know you don't need help with your homework, yu being so smart and all that..."

"We need to talk."

"Okay. What's on your mind?"

"Tell me about Professor Gill, Dad."

Dad's face goes pale. He rubs the back of his head and looks down at his feet, pacing around the room before he finally flops on the bed beside me.

"Jesse, how do you know that name?"

"I heard those men the other day. Heard them threaten you and ask for some kind of formula. I did some research and found out about him."

"I worked for him in college for extra credit, but that was it."

He blinks his eyes real fast and then rubs his chin. That's his tell. That's how you know he's lying.

"Tell me the truth, Dad."

"I...I was helping him on his research..."

"Research into unlocking untapped potential, right?"

"Yes. Gill was a bit crazy, but he thought there was something inside each and every person. The ability to make us great. All we needed was a little help. You spoke the formula outloud, and it activated those dormant parts of the brain."

"That's what the formula was?'

"Yeah. But it's incomplete. Gill was working on it when he died."

"I know. I think I solved it..."

"What? How?"

"I added and subtracted in a few places."

"Well, it couldn't do all he said it could, but it did-"

"Make someone run faster, be stronger. Enough to say, stand out on a football field."

Dad puts his head in his hands.

"Goddammit, Jesse! You don't think I regretted making that decision every damn day!"

"You...you murdered him..."

Dad snaps his head back up and looks at me.

"No, baby. I didn't kill Professor Gill. Those men coming after me, they're the ones that did it. Guy named Benny did it, he was arrested for something else back then. But now he's back and he knows about me. He knows what I did."

Lights flash on the house as a car pulls into the driveway. Dad leaps up off the bed and looks out the window.

"Oh, my God...It's them. They've come for us. Run, Jesse!"

Dad pushes me off the bed and hustles me out door. We run down the steps just as two men are busting into the front door, guns pulled out.

"Go, Jesse!"

Dad tackles one of them and drives him to the floor. I turn tail and run, the other one following behind me. I hear him getting closer as I run through the house. He's almost on me when I hit the back door and run through the backyard. He's going to catch me. I need to be faster...I need...

"("3X2(9YZ)4A")!"

The world suddenly blurs all around me. I tear through the backyard and down the street. I'm halfway across the city before I come to a sliding stop.

It worked. Professor Gill's formula actually worked! Suddenly, I remember why I used it in the first place. Dad. Those men had guns. Whatever this does to me, I can't take them on head on. I need help. I need...the Flash.

I stay hidden in the shadows of the alley while Jesse talk, hiding my face from her. It's pretty bad. The men who were after her dad were the same ones who killed Professor Gill. They want the formula Gill invented and Johnny used to become an NFL hall of famer. On top of that, Jesse's used the formula herself.

"Do you know where they took your father?"

"I doubled back after I got away. They took him to some shack outside Keystone, just on the banks of the river."

"Alright. I'll take it from here. Go home, Jesse. I'll return your dad back to you."

"No," Jesse says sternly. "He's my father. I'm going with you."

"I can't have that. You're untrained."

"Yep. So are you, in case you haven't noticed. The way you look and sound, you're not much older than I am. I'm coming with you."

"No. It's not open to negotiate. No. No way."

Five minutes later, Jesse and I are running side by side down the banks of the Missouri River, on the Keystone side.

"Can't believe I did this..."

What can I say? The kid put up a hell of a fight. She's not as fast as me, but she's right up there. She's about as fast as Jay was when we took on the Turtle together.

"It's just up here!"

A small cabin is just outside the woods, a good five miles out of town on the riverbanks. I slow down and let Jesse take lead.

"How long does that last? Do you need to say it every time?"

"I think so. I tired running fast again before, but it didn't work until I repeated the formula."

I pick back up and overtake Jesse, running slightly ahead of her.

"Alright, stay wary. We're coming up on the cabin. Be car-"

My brain registers the landmine as soon as I step on it. My mind is running so fast, I can feel the heat from the explosion as I try to step away, saving my leg and body from the majority of the blast.

BOOM!

The concussive blast blows me back a good ten feet. I fall to the ground hard, a few of my ribs breaking as I land.

"Flash!"

Jesse stops and runs towards me, leaning over me and looking me over.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say through gritted teeth. "A few of my ribs are busted and my leg is in bad shape. Give me a minute, I'll be up on my feet."

"You ain't got a minute," a voice says from just outside the cabin. Jesse and I turn and see three men standing around Johnny, guns pointed at him. The man in the middle in skinny and tall. This must be Benny.

"When the boys told me the girl ran off like she did, I figured this was coming. Put a few welcoming presents in the ground."

Benny walks up to Johnny and puts the barrel of the gun to Johnny's head.

"Now, you little *****, give me the formula or your daddy dies."

I look over at Jesse. Tears are starting to form in her eyes. "Da-...Daddy..."

"Give it to him, baby," Johnny says shakily.

"NOW!" Benny shouts. "****ING NOW!"

Jesse looks over to me and I nod. "Do what he says, Jesse. Tell him the formula. But be careful..."

Jesse takes a deep breath and turns back to Benny.

"("3X2(9YZ)4A")!" She shouts. For everyone else, it all happens in the blink of an eye. But to me, it takes forever. Jesse runs across the sand and knocks Benny's gun out of his hands before she punches him in the neck. Jesse turns to Benny's friends, disarming them and taking them down in a fraction of a second.

When it's all said and done, Benny and his buddies are out for the count and Johnny and Jesse are hugging. My leg is nearly healed, so I pick myself up and limp over to them. Jesse breaks away from her dad and runs to hug me.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, Jesse. Just call the cops."

Jesse takes a few steps back and I look over at Johnny.

"Tell them, sir. Tell them the truth. All of it."

He nods slowly and looks down at his feet. I turn back to Jesse and pat her shoulder.

"I should get going."

"Meet me," Jesse whispers in my ear. "Tomorrow evening in my backyard. I want to talk about something."

"Well, uhh...I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm kinda seeing someone already..."

Jesse rolls her eyes and pushes me away.

"It's related to something else. Just meet me."

I nod and turn away from them. My legs, now fully healed, take me away from the Quicks...uhh quickly, and back into the city within a minute.

Byrd Man

01-04-2012, 01:14 AM

http://i39.tinypic.com/2rdfbxj.jpg

Previously

I pull my truck into the parking lot of the town's only store and get out, looking around at the deserted town. Alexville is nestled high in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Only a town of about 300 or so.

I walk into the general store, looking around for any signs of life.

"Hey there, friend," a young man says from behind the counter. "Help ya with something?"

I pull my hat back, revealing my scarred face. The clerk makes a quick face at the scar, but quickly puts his smile back on.

"Just passin' through. Headed back out west."

Which is sort of true. On my way through the state, I caught word about a bounty being offered up about a man seen around these parts. Fellow by the name of Alex Campbell. Wanted on some heinous s***. Among other things, he's committed arson, a few robberies, and rapes...and then there's rumors about him doing questionable things with goats.
"Well, you need some gas or supplies, I'll be happy to help ya, sir."

"Wonder if you'd do me a favor. Ever hear talk about a fella name of Alex Campbell from around here?"

"Can't say that I have, sir. You might want to check church. They should be letting out about now. I'd have gone myself, but my pa likes someone to keep the store open in case some out of towner passes through."

I tip my hat at the boy and walk out the store. Just up the road, the church is letting out for Sunday services. From the looks of things, the whole damn town was there. I walk up the street, passing the people of the town and their gaping looks.

"God bless you and thanks for coming," the reverend says to an elderly woman as she exits the church. I stand at the foot of the steeps and look up at the preacher. "Afternoon, sir," he says with a smile. "Haven't seen you around these parts. Afraid you missed the service. But that is not to say you missed out on His word."

"Now that you mention it, Reverend," I say, looking him over. "I believe I am in dire need of the word of God."

He's got a beard now, and he's heavier than he was in the mugshot, a good fifty pounds overweight. But there's no doubting that this man of the cloth is Alex Campbell.

"Well come inside, son. The Lord is listening, as am I."

I smile and climb the steps, following him inside the empty church.

Pickett's Ridge, TN

I follow the Campbell hrough the sanctuary and down to the front row of the pews. We sit down and he smiles. Up close, I notice something is wrong with him. His left eye is unfocused and off-kilter. Nobody mentioned anything about that in the warrant.

"What can I help you with this blessed day, my son?"

"Wonder if you'd help me look for a man, reverend."

"I'll do my best, son. But I warn you. The man I am best equip to help you find is Jesus."

"No offense, sir, but me and the Lord kinda came to a mutual undersandin' some time ago. He stays out of my affairs, and I'll be sure never to invoke the son of a *****es name never again."

"Watch your heathen tongue," Campbell snaps. "I will not abide blaspheming here in His house."

His tone takes me back for a moment. There's a dark look on his face, his left eye is even more out of balance, pointing down towards his shoes while his right eye looks at me, filled with a fiery resolve.

"I believe it's best you state your business here, son, and then get out of town as fast as you can."

"Fine. My business is you."

"What?!"

"I'm a bounty hunter and I'm takin' you in, Alex Campbell. We can go out quietly in the back so none of your flock sees."

"No! I've...I've turned over a new leaf. I have repented my sins. God has spoken to me, I am chosen by Him!"

"God may have blessed you, but the federal government and the state of Tennessee is a little less forgiving."

I stand up and go to grab Campbell, only for him to swat me away and leap up, backing up the aisle of the church.

"SINNER!" He shouts loudly. "DEMON! INTERLOPER! YOU ARE A TEST, A TEST SENT BY HIM! HE TESTED THE RIGHTEOUS JOB, AND HE WILL TEST ME! I HAVE SEEN IT IN MY VISIONS!"

Campbell's left eye swivels in the socket and his whole left side starts to jerk.

"I AM CHOSEN! I WILL NOT YIELD TO TEMPTATION, IT IS LIKE THE APOSTLE SAID IN THE BOOK OF MARK-"

Campbell falls to the ground, his body convulsing and shaking in a fit of seizures. The doors to the church burst open and three armed men step in.

"Don't move!" The man in the lead shouts, a pistol aimed at my chest. "We was over at the police station and heard shouts. The hells going on?!"

The other two deputies rush over to the preacher and move him on to his back. One of them yanks off his belt, sticking it into Campbell's mouth.

"He's having another one of his fits again, sheriff."

"DEMON!" Campbell shouts through the belt in his mouth, pointing a finger at me as he shakes. "INTERLOPER! ARREST HIM!"

Without hesitation, the three men circle around me, their guns aimed for my head and chest.

"Hold on, fellas, I'm a licensed bounty hunter. The preacher is a wanted fugitive with a history-"

I'm cut short as one of the deputes clubs me in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. I stumble forward and crash into one of the pews, my hat flying off. The two deputies grab me by the shoulders and shove me to the floor. I fight, but the sheriff adds his muscle and they keep my down long enough to put a pair of cuffs around my wrist. They haul me up and march me out the church. Campbell, recovered from his fit, spits the belt out and watches as I go.

"AND THE LORD SAID THAT ALL WHO SHALL BE WICKED SHALL BE CAST OUT, AND IT WAS SO! RIGHTEOUS ARE THOSE WHO GIVE GRACE TO GOD!"

The deputies push me into the vestibule and out the door, Campbell singing a hymn loudly as we leave.

"Oh, can the circle be unbroken, by and by, lord, by and by? There's a better home a-waiting in the sky, lord, in the sky!"

Batman

01-04-2012, 01:33 AM

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By the time that evening falls, I've done all that I can do for the day. His condition isn't improving, and like it or not, I have further business to conduct back home. Giving my parting respects to the staff at Lucius' disposal, I sign the release papers to have Bruce transferred to a secure wing of the hospital for his remaining spell - to avoid the wandering eyes of the press, looking to catch a glimpse of the comatose celebrity for their page ones - and begin to head off for the evening. Despite all that I've done in this last week to adapt to this new schedule, forgoing alot of hours and alot of effort to ensure that nothing be left astray, I do infact trust the people here to keep him safe. It's simply too difficult to remind myself that even if he does awaken from this, he wouldn't be able to even tell I was there. That's the trouble in dealing with a coma. Unpredictability never quite sat well with me. It certainly never did with him.

Approaching the counter of the lobby of the first floor, I catch the attention of the nurse and wave her over. God knows, I'm going to need caffeine to be able to drive home at this hour.

"Excuse me, Miss. You wouldn't happen to have a coffee machine nearby?"

She points down the next hall. "Across from the cafeteria, to your right. Can't miss it."

I gratefully nod and continue on, throwing my winter scarf around my shoulders. Perhaps if it weren't for holiday traffic, I wouldn't be as on edge as I feel right now.

But then, who am I kidding? Gotham traffic in general scares the bloody hell out of me.

"No, dad, I hadn't forgotten it was the holidays."

Three minutes after getting my coffee, I suddenly remembered something rather grave. It's Christmas, and I have a bit of a yearly tradition to uphold each year. Since leaving Liverpool six years prior, and given the nature of my job, my contact with any immediate family has been forcibly confined to something of a distant nature. I would have never told Bruce, who's halfway convinced I don't even have a family, but they are still an important factor of my life and apart of me that I can't quite seem to push away. So I make an effort to call at least once per year, at Christmas, to update them on the status of - well, just about everything.

The problem is, only one of them is within the distance of a working cellphone.

My father, Fredrick Pennyworth Jarvis, Sr. Retiree of MI-6 and the Royal Marines.

If one could contest getting an earful from their parents, I would regularly take first prize. It doesn't help that no matter whatever I can try and reply with, he's lost far too much of his hearing to ever quite carry a sensible conversation with. Though I suppose it's still better to have him across the pond, where I can keep my contact at a minimum.

"I said, I hadn't forgotten it was... no, I'm not on an airplane. I'm in a hospital. Dad, I said I was in a hospital!"

Massaging the bridge of my nose in frustration, I place my things on a nearby waiting room table and sit down. All things considered, I refuse to keep babbling on like a blundering novice in the middle of the Gotham freeway. Especially just to tell my own father the bare minimum of what I've been doing with my time. Cooking, cleaning, and aiding a known vigilante are hardly the sort of things you want going around.

"Nevermind that. I just thought I'd check in for a spell tonight, since I'm not quite up for our usual conversation just yet. Alot of work had to be done today."

He asks what sort of work, and I momentarily freeze.

I had decided to keep Bruce's condition a secret from him, should he be compelled to inquiry anymore. Once you ever start speaking to my father for more than five minutes, it isn't long before you've been forced to admit every detail of your last few days. Suppose it's that MI-6 training at work, on his part.

"Oh, you know. Christmas and whatnot. All of that dribble. Speaking of which, how's Anne?"

His third wife, and technically my stepmother. Unless they've divorced in a year's time, which wouldn't be terribly shocking.

"Is she now? Well, that's... actually quite good to hear. So the two of you will be overseas?"

Just as dad begins to respond, I hear an unexpected sound errupt from outside the halls. Several unexpected sounds, infact. A scream, several rushed footsteps. Someone shouting. And was that... gunfire?

My eyes widen as I peer past the wall, only to nearly be knocked over by several nurses and bystanders running in the opposite direction. My word, it is gunfire. I can practically smell the discharge. What in the bloody deep is going on out there?

"Dad, I have to go. I said, I have to go! Something's come up, I'll be back in a tick."

Snapping the phone shut, I immediately work to maintain my composure and peer back at the room to see what I have at my disposal. Apart from a briefcase full of filed paperwork, a PDA, the Waynepad, and the remains of my lunch, I have nothing that can come of particular use in the event of an emergency situation. Particularly one of such an extreme nature. Had to commit Mr. Wayne to the one hospital in the tri-state area, didn't I?

Then my eyes fall upon the nearest wall, after inadvertendly bumping into something. And with a shot of luck on my side, I soon realize that there's still a bit of hope yet.

"I said shut the #$%@ up and get down on the ground!"

By the time I've made it to the front lobby again, the same nurse from earlier is frantically complying to the demands of an angered couple of men in ski-masks, each brandishing a set of semi-automatic weapons. I tread lightly ahead, so as to not alert them of my prescence, as I advance down the corridor and try to keep myself scarce.

"Okay, okay! Just don't hurt me!"

"You deaf or something?! Shut up and move!"

The poor young woman's not making it any easier on herself. Then again, I'm about to commit the stupidest possible act in the event of an armed robbery. If that's what this is even supposed to be. Seems quite strange that they wouldn't even acknowledge the idea of security cameras, guarding staff, or the police. It's as if they simply walked in without a plan to back them.

After she eventually complies, the first turns to his compatriots and gives a nod towards the main hall. Whatever they're looking for, they're not going to find it here.

"Alright, let's get to the elevators. We need to make this quick. One of you stand guard down here. The rest? Follow me."

While there are a considerable amount of patients located on this floor, even more await certain danger on the others. And I can't even begin to think about the risk for Mr. Wayne, given his predicament. Somehow or another, I'm going to have to keep them from reaching that elevator.

Shouldn't be difficult.

Springing forth from beyond the corridor, I shout the one thing that at least turns the head of every criminal in Gotham.

"Look, over there! It's Batman!"

As they frantically raise their guns in confusion, not stopping to think of who even said it, I dive forward and slide across the recently mopped floor with my one weapon in hand: a common variety fire extinguisher. Before long, they're all blinded by a cloud of a thick foaming agent, covering their eyes and forcing them to misdirect quite a bit of gunfire into the walls and windows. Taking the opportunity to rush past them, I grab the nearest by the shoulder and slam down my elbow, striking hard at his collarbone.

"ARGH!"

He crumples to the ground in a heap. The others scramble to make sense of what's going on, but I simply grab the incapacitated one's semi-automatic and carefully aim. Then close my eyes. It's been a damn well long time since I've fired one of these. The unfortunate blokes had better hope I haven't gotten rusty.

*BRAKABRAKA!*

I kneecap the first and strike the second with a shoulder wound.

*BRAKABRAKA!*

The third and fourth recieve bullets in their feet, with enough force to knock their legs out from under them. Fifth and sixth are the ones to recover from the initial blast from the extinguisher, but I ready myself for them by lunging forth with the brunt of the weapon. It strikes hard at the fifth's throat, knocking him back as I slam the other across the face and bash the weapon against his torso. Then I toss it aside, grab him, and slam the back of his head hard into the receptionists' counter. The fifth recovers and tries to pick up his weapon, but I slam my foot down upon it. He looks up at me.

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"Terribly sorry about that, sir."

Then I drop him with a hard kick to the face, instantaneously rendering him unconscious. The young receptionist raises her head, positively shocked at what just happened. I simply give her another polite nod, seizing one of the guns and handing it to her.

"Miss, I would advise calling the authorities on this one. But until they arrive, keep that dreadful thing trained on the poor bastards that brought it in."

She looks at the gun, then to me, horrified.

"How the hell did you do all of that?!"

"Improvisation, mostly."

And a four-year tenure at Scotland Yard. Good to know those lessons in self-defense paid off.

"Oh my god..."

I turn to meet the origin of her gaze, and am just as shocked to see what exactly I'm seeing outside. This is only the first of many men in masks, with the same sort of weapons, tearing about across the area and breaking into every local business that they can. Yet the police are nowhere in sight, and I hear no sirens in the immediate viscinity.

Good heavens. They've all gone beserk, and no one's around to reign them in.

"Forget what I said. Just stay here and keep your head down."

Leaving her to process those instructions, I make a dash for the waiting area. I've got a phonecall that I need to make. She may not be Batman, nessecarily, but aside from Mr. Todd - who frankly seems a bit too troubled, lately, to take on something of this magnitude - she's the only other of that same class of citizen that I happen to know of. Not to mention the only cop I can really trust, at this point.

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By the time that the fire reaches it's most critical point, I can see several of the city's fire department beginning to arrive. Then any sense of remorse that I have over setting the building ablaze completely leaves me, as I place the cowl back over my head and adjust the goggles over my face. You've done enough for one night, Selina. That bastard Nygma just paid the price, and you saw to that. Message delivered. Now, I just hope I get back home in time to make good on my promise to Arizona. Breakfast on that 5th street cafe, just like she likes.

Hell, I may even treat myself to some of it, too. After a night like this, a girl could use some comfort food to brighten the mood.

"It's nothing dangerous, I feel no pain. I've got to ch-ch-change. You know you've got it when you're goin' insane."

Damn that ringtone. Scared the hell out of me.

I nearly turn the phone off, not in the mood to deal with anyone after what I've gone through tonight - but my curiosity is piqued whenever I discover that it's a number that I would have never expected to see. Especially recently, of all times, given everything that's happened. And I'm just talking about what's been going on in his life, nevermind where we just happened to leave off.

Wayne, Bruce
1-312-510-1939

Hesitant, yet absurdly unable to resist, I flip open the thing and hold it to my ear. This had better not be a prank of some sort. I'm in such a foul mood that I'd be tempted to scratch someone's eyes out for real.

"You know, for a guy in a coma, you sure know how to use a phone."

"Charming, Miss Kyle, per the usual."

Ah. The aide. I should have guessed.

"I'll take it as a compliment, coming from a gentleman like yourself. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, Miss, it's a bit of an emergency. I was rather hoping I could rely on your... other self, as it were."

My eyebrow raises. This is definitely getting interesting.

"Mr. Jarvis, I am at your disposal."

MST3K 4ever

01-04-2012, 11:56 AM

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Oswald receives his first pieces of news about the uprising of Violence in Gotham and he is less than impressed.

"DAMN!" He yells in his private conference room and throws a drink across the room

"How could they be stupid? THE HOSPITAL! How exceedingly stupid?" he says as he sits down at the conference table

Knowing that many of those involved would be inside for the evening Oswald holds a tele-conference with them.

He says, "You all have hit the hospital? What was the Orphanage two blocks over too busy?"

Boss Volkov replies in a thick Russian accent, "We thought it was important to send a message!"

Oswald snaps, "And that's what you get when you show such Neolithic incompetency! Now the police are going be on high alert making things a little more difficult."

Boss Erickson says, "So we have to become a bit more aggressive Penguin we can still make this work out fine for all of us."

The Penguin closes his eyes and regains his composure.

If he were here right now I'd shoot him!

He says, "Roger I had every step planned out and this little improv screws up a lot of plans. That being said we can withstand this. From now on NO ONE launches an attack on an area other than Main Street locales without consulting me. Any divergence from this directive and I will assume all of you were involved and I will use every resource at my disposal to see to it that you all suffer in a variety of ways. Am I clear?"

They agree and Oswald says, "Thank you enjoy your evening everyone."

Oswald hangs up and calls for his man-servant Maxwell. He says, "Clean up the drink I spilled and have the Limo pick me up in front as soon as possible. Thank you"

Maxwell nods as Oswald leaves. He steps out into the front of the club and the Paparazzi near by all shout and take pictures.

Oswald says, "If you all will excuse me I've got to head over to the Sunny Days Orphanage Board of Directors meeting. Hope you all have a good evening."

The Limo approaches and Oswald waves to the crowd one last time and gets in.

MST3K 4ever

01-04-2012, 12:09 PM

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Grodd walks over to an oversized lap-top. He punches in several commands and several split-screens show up on the monitor. They are various locations throughout Central City.

He nods his head and says, "All-right now to begin final preparations for the downfall of the speed fool!"

Grodd looks over at the various devices he has constructed and says, "Ahh my beauties it is time for you to accomplish that which you were destined for complete and utter chaos!"

Grodd grabs several of them and then begins planting them throughout various locations. He makes several trip until finally they are all planted.

Grodd then enters in a few more commands and the computer beeps and the locations on the model light up.

Grodd smiles and says, "Now Central City your time is up."

He enters in the command: Commit. With that several bombs begin counting down throughout the city causing many people to panic, power grids begin crashing causing emergency services to fail, the water system begins building up pressure and the relief valves are shorted out, the airport is reporting scrambled signals, and the zoo security systems are failing allowing several animals to escape confinement.

Grodd smiles even wider and says, "Ahh yes the day when all hell broke loose."

MST3K 4ever

01-04-2012, 12:37 PM

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Rhiannon and Kent arrive at the Sable Club for their formal. Rhiannon is still unsure of herself mainly because she doesn't know everyone and she is out on a date, but Kent from time to time gives her a look of reassurance as they mingle in the Banquet Hall.

Once they sit at their table she looks around at everyone gathered and continues making small talk.

Okay so far so good. Haven't spilled anything on my dress, haven't insulted anyone and...

Just then she feels Kent's hand touch hers under the table. Rhiannon glances over at Kent as he is making small talk, and when he looks at her he smirks. Rhiannon grabs onto his hand and winks at him.

This might be a little fast, but at this moment dare I even think it: I'm happy. for the first time in years or however long it is...who cares I'm happy again. I'm gonna ride this wave as long as I can.

Kent whispers in her ear, "Do you really wanna stay here right now?"

Rhiannon shakes her head and he motions for her to follow him. They leave the room.

He says, "I know somewhere we can go have a great view of the city and we can enjoy the evening just you and me."

Rhiannon replies, "Sounds wonderful I just hope we aren't going too fast. I mean I've known you for a little while and I love flirting with you Kent and I just wonder....."

Kent puts his finger over her lips and says, "Just relax I'm not looking for a lifetime commitment, but I feel something different with you Rhiannon. Something I can't explain, but I want to know what it is and I want to get to know you outside of Met-Tech. You're a very unique woman Rhiannon."

Rhiannon replies as Kent removes his finger, "I can live with that and I admit I get the feeling there's more to you than what's on the surface, and what's the surface so far is really kind of intoxicating."

The two smile and continue to walk away hand in hand as they hear University President Stanley Braden delivering some opening remarks when suddenly he stops and stares for a moment. Suddenly a Boomerang breaks through the window and embeds itself into Stanley's skull.

Everyone looks up and sees a hooded figure dressed all in blue swoop in and there are gasps and screams.

Several others join alongside the figure brandishing guns. The hooded man removes his hood and says, "How's that for an entrance? The name's Captain Boomerang! Now if you all will kindly hand over all your valuables no one else gets hurt."

Rhiannon and Kent both hear what is going on and Rhiannon says, "You go call the police. I'll stay here and stay out of sight and try to keep tabs on this."

Kent nods and leaves. Rhiannon looks around.

Okay Atom time to show you're ready to get back into action.

Rhiannon transforms into The Atom and floats to the door leading into the Banquet Hall.

All-right let's see if I can do this without killing anyone...or anyone killing me.

Andy C.

01-05-2012, 02:36 AM

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PREVIOUSLY...

My search of the United Nations building has not borne fruit; I have questioned every surviving person who was present during the Legion of Doom's attack, sometimes making use of the Lasso to assist their memory, but none have been able to tell me anything about where exactly Savage and his minions went. I believe the Atom may have found something, but she hasn't been heard from in a while.

We have to find the Legion and stop them, but if the trail has gone cold, then as horrible as it is, the only way we may be able to locate them is to wait until they resurface and attack again. The others have gone to recruit other members for the Justice League and to tend to their own cities' needs, and I have sent Donna to locate the other women who have our power, the aspects of the true Wonder Woman (Donna nicknamed them 'Amazons' after the warrior women of the Greek pantheon) in order to marshal more forces for the fight to come....as well as protect them from being hunted by the Legion. We still don't know how much Savage knows, or who else he may have working for him.

As I fly over the streets of New York, circling the UN building to clear my head of another fruitless day of questioning, I see a light flickering on a rooftop, intense enough to stand out among the millions of other lights in the city. It seems to be directed straight at me, blinking on and off in quick and slow pulses, and I quickly realize what it is.

Morse code.

"W-O-N-D-E-R W-O-M-A-N," the message says. "M-E-E-T A-T 83 S-U-L-L-I-V-A-N S-T-R-E-E-T H-O-U-S-E I-N 1 H-O-U-R. I-N-F-O O-N L-E-G-I-O-N. C-O-M-E A-L-O-N-E."

I frown at the message; it's suspicious at best, and almost definitely a trap. Still, the League has no other leads regarding the Legion's whereabouts or their plans, so even if it is a trap, I can likely pry the information I need out of whoever is behind it.

"Wonder Woman to League," I say into a wireless earpiece obtained from our headquarters in Happy Harbor, hoping that at least one other member is listening in. "I am investigating a possible lead regarding Savage in New York City. 83 Sullivan Street. If you do not hear back from me in....seventy minutes," I say, giving myself some time to deal with whatever it is I find, "then I would likely appreciate some backup. Over and out."

An hour later, I approach the Sullivan Street House. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary here: no open windows from where a sniper could be positioned, nothing strewn across the ground to indicate a hidden trip-wire, just an empty building with an empty alley behind it.

Leading into the alley, I see a set of footprints. Keeping my guard up, I follow them cautiously, pressing against the corner before checking that the alley is indeed as empty as it seems.

"Is anyone there?" I call out, to no response. I should leave right now; this is either a dead end or an ambush. But I cannot let the trail to the Legion go dead, either.

Following the footprints, I make my way into the alley. Soon I can hear someone breathing heavily, as if in excitement or anticipation. I can feel eyes upon me, leering at me hungrily. I raise my Gauntlets and prepare for whatever attack may be coming.

"Show yourself!" I demand, but still no answer beyond the heavy breathing.

Suddenly, the trail stops. The footprints end in one spot, as if the man were still standing th--

*FWASSHHH!*

An extraordinarily bright light blinds me for a moment, and I am knocked off my feet by some kind of concussive beam.

Rubbing my eyes, my sight returns to me, and I see a man in a garish black-and-white costume looking down on me, staring at me with wide, eager eyes.

"My my, you're even more beautiful in person," he says, his lips pulled back into a lecherous sneer. "I believe I am really going to enjoy you."

I spring from my kneeling position and attack with a spinning back-kick to his chest, but I pass right through him as if he were not even there. Then, to my side, he appears and fires another concussive blast that knocks me back.

Invisibility, holographic images, energy blasts.....whoever this man is, he seems to have mastery over light itself.

"I told you I had information on the Legion of Doom," he says, "so here's what I know...."

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"My name is Arthur Light. Doctor Light to you. I was hired by the Legion to hunt and kill any member of the Justice League I wanted. Twenty-five billion dollars for your corpse. But, you know.....I don't think I'm going to kill you right away..."

"I do believe you're losing, my dear," Doctor Light mocks me, his image flickering away as my fist passes through it. Another hologram, a trick of the light. As the image blinks out, another beam of searing energy strikes me in the side. "It seems you haven't even laid a finger on me yet."

"Believe me," I say through gritted teeth, "When I do strike you, you will know it."

The madman laughs, floating up into the air, and I take to the skies after him, deflecting his energy beams with my Gauntlets as I close in after him. Just as I close in to land a spinning kick, he responds with a blinding flash of light in my eyes, blinding me for a moment.

When my vision returns to me, there are five of him circling me.

"It's pointless to fight it," he says in an eager tone. "I can do anything I wish with electric light, and we are smack in the heart of one of the most brightly-lit cities on the planet. Every house lighting a home, every street lamp, every bulb in every socket all around us, is a weapon for me to use against you."

Doctor Light and his four holographic duplicates spread their arms in unison, and bolts of light arc out of the ground, out of houses and apartments, street lights and cell phones, blacking out an entire city block as he pulls the light above him in a shimmering, blinding sphere.

"By the Gods..." I say as I brace my Gauntlets for the incoming attack.

"I'm the only god you need to be worried about right now," says Light, his eyes wide with manic glee. "And I say, LET THERE BE LIGHT!"

He hurls the ball towards me, a swirling mass of electricity and searing heat. I put up my Gauntlets as the massive blast bears down on me....

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....and I pray my strength holds out.

Byrd Man

01-06-2012, 01:23 AM

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Previously

Over The Atlantic

0204 Local Time

The cargo plane bounced around from turbulence. Inside the hold, leaning against a crate of canned peaches, was Rick Flag. He was dozing, his M4 in his lap. To his right, Lawton was laying on the floor of the plane with a cigarette in his mouth. Dr. Polaris was leaning up against a crate away from the others, sleeping. Nightshade was laying on the only cot set up inside the cargo hold, her eyes closed and her breathing slow and steady.

"You awake, Flag?" The voice of Amanda Waller chirped in his ear.

"I'm here," Flag said, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "I trust you finally have a briefing ready?"

"Just basics. The finer details are above your paygrade."

"Why am I not shocked? Go ahead. I guess something is better than nothing."

"For the past eight months, we've had an undercover intelligence officer placed inside the terrorist organization known as Kobra. He's been delivering us top-grade intel. 24 hours ago, the undercover agent went into red alert mode. He was under the belief that he had been made, his identity had been compromised. He bolted from Kobra's HQ in Egypt and took a plane of South Africa. He's in Cape Town as we speak, awaiting evac. He's your mission. Get him stateside safely."

"What's the tradecraft for meeting him?"

"I'm getting that information from his handlers as we speak. Soon as I know it, I'll relay it to you."

"One more thing...," Flag said, his eyes drifting over to Polaris. "Why Polaris? Why not Ben or Vertigo?"
"Turner's got the flu. Despite his protests, him going on this mission is the last thing we need. Sick men make mistakes. Vertigo is useless until he fixes his eyepiece. Fool Russian blew it out, it'll take some time to fix. Anything else, Colonel?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good. Your plane should land in Cape Town in about five hours. One last thing, this man is of the highest priority to US intelligence. He has been deeper inside a terrorist organization than any undercover to date. His knowledge is priceless. So, you either come back with our undercover...or you don't come home at all. Waller out."

With that, the line went dead. Flag shook his head and laid on the floor, curling up on the floor of the cargo plane with the assault rifle firmly in his hands.

Cape Town, South Africa
1621 Local Time

The four members of Task Force X walked through the open market just on the outskirts of town in their civilian clothes, their weapons hidden under their clothes. A combination of Afrikaans, English, and Swazi was being spoken by the shoppers and merchants alike. All the chatter pertained to the recent tragedy in Egypt. Superhuman terrorists had destroyed the Aswan Dam and flooded the nearby farmlands.

"Any updates on that?" Flag said under his breath, the embedded microphone in his back right molar picked it up.

"I got my people working on it," Waller replied. "Far as I can tell, it wasn't Jihad. The current theory the Company is kicking around is that it was those superpowered freaks who crashed that UN meeting while we were in Nigeria. Doesn't matter right now. Important thing is that you extract our man in Cape Town. He may have intel relating to the attack."

"Right. Flag out."

Flag killed the signal and turned to his team. Nightshade was dressed in all black, sunglasses covering her pale face. Lawton was in jeans and a black t-shirt, a cigarette hanging out his mouth. The Squad's newest member, the man who called himself Dr. Polaris, actually had the audacity to dress in a suit and tie for the mission. Flag himself was wearing his yellow shirt and jeans.

"Alright. Spread out and cover me. Nightshade will stick close while Deadshot and Polaris work the edges of the market and look out for anything suspicious."

"Whatever," Polaris grumbled. "I should just run away right now. I still think that your talk about a bomb in my head is a load of bull****."

"You run, Polaris? I won't detonate the bomb. I'll command Deadshot himself to take you down."

Lawton smiled and winked at Polaris. "The colonel ain't lying. He gave me a set of special ceramic bullets to take you down with. No a bit of metal on them."

"Enough jawing. Time's wasting here. Get to work."

The two men began to walk through the crowd while Flag and Nighshade walked together through the market. Flag counted off stands and vendors, stopping at a wall beside the sixth vendor on the right side of the market. Nightshade watched the crowd as Flag felt the bricks on the wall, stopping when he came to a loose one halfway down the wall. Flag pulled the loose one out and reached into the hole. There was a scrap of paper inside the hole. Flag took it out and put the brick back in its place, making a tiny tic-tac-toe grid on the brick with a piece of chalk. Flag and Nightshade walked away and went back into the market, emerging a few minutes later with Nightshade and Polaris behind them.

"What's it say, Rick?"

Flag straightened the paper out and looked at the words scribbled on it.

"It says 'meet tonight, 0300. 520 Kloof Street, the Gardens."

Flag stuffed the paper into his jean pocket and activated the bluetooth in his ear.

"Waller, I just serviced the dead drop. The meet is on for three am in the downtown area."

"10-4. I'll start arranging an evac for the five of you now. Head over to the meet site and start securing it now. There should be a sniper rifle for Lawton in that care package I sent with you."

"Roger that. We're on our way. Flag out."

Batman

01-06-2012, 02:35 AM

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You owe me for this, Wayne. Big time.

Nevermind the fact that I even agreed to this insanity in the first place. Believe me, when it comes to the sheer amount of stupidity it took to do anything but refuse your assisant's request, I'm fully aware that there's no one else to blame. Hell, I even managed to spend the better part of a ten block rooftop sprint breaking it down in my mind, analyzing all of the numerous ways that I'm simply not cut out to do this. But in the end, it all came down to you, didn't it? The simple fact that with you out of the picture, there's no one else to take these idiots down in any way that's meaningful. No one out there - not a single cop, lawyer, judge, or jury - who's going to make sure that once this has all come to a pass, the people responsible aren't going to just walk back out onto the streets and do it all over again. It makes me sick to even think that it's all come down to that, but you know what? It's the way it is. The sanctity of this system isn't worth the paper it's written on.

And like it or not, I think that's why I ultimately said yes. Because I'm sure as hell not in line to be the next Batman. No, I got into this crazy world of masks and danger for one reason and one reason alone. To get back at all of the men in my life who'd wronged me by letting nothing and no one stand in the way. Costumed vigilantism was never supposed to fall in line with that set of plans, even with appearances to the contrary. I came to you to take down a human trafficker, and that was supposed to be the one-and-only exception to entering your line of work.

So what in god's name made your manservant believe otherwise?

Tapping the side of my cowl's ear, I slide onto the edge of the next rooftop with considerable caution. Note to self. Winter is definitely not the season to be doing insanely complicated vaults off of solid concerete.

"Alfred? Please tell me you're still there."

"Waiting and ready, Miss Kyle. I've secured one of the hospital's janitorial closets for the time being."

The reason we can communicate with one another is that, despite having the suit outfitted with several of my own little customizations, some features remain over from the previous owner's design. Namely a two-way radio reciever that's permenately imbedded into the cowl. It's amazing what technology can bring you, these days.

"Sounds lovely. So do you mind telling me what I'm supposed to be looking for?"

"There should be five to six groups of them within the viscinity, at the very least. I only caught sight of the scene briefly, but it seemed as if they were trying to spread out across the area. No doubt following some predetermined pattern."

Okay, I'm not really liking the sound of that. Briefly trying to occupy any thoughts of regret that loom over me, I switch the goggles from standardized output to nightvision, scanning over the area to catch any wind of the bastards at work.

"Great. So you think that they're hired guns? Not to sound dismissive, but this could easily be one of the gangs vying for some kind of territorial play."

"Judging from my brief spell earlier, Miss, they don't seem to be intelligible enough to organize themselves on their own. Otherwise, I might have been inclined to agree."

I bite my lip. "It's what I get for being optimistic."

Tossing out the whip and allowing it to go taut, I swing over the next alleyway and officially cross into the streets overlooking Gotham General. For a moment, I consider the possiblity that more are headed inside the building, but those fears are put to rest immediately as medics and security staff scramble to put everything under lockdown. Going off my time on the force, it's standard proceedure for situations like this. If threat of an emergency isn't controlled before police arrive, you move like hell to get the rest of your bearings secure. And with the hospital, there are just too many patients at stake to take risks.

I briefly stop to glance up at the top floor window, knowing that he's up there. Then curse myself for wasting time, heading along the outset of 5th avenue to catch up with the groups. Maybe I'm giving him too much credit, but I can't help but feel like none of this would have escalated if someone hadn't broken into Wayne Tower and decided to jump him that night. But I suppose that in the end, what happened is for the best. It teaches people like me just what kind of disappointment you're in for when you put all of your faith into one man.

*CRSSH!*

The moment of action finally rears it's ugly head, as I stop to turn towards the direction of the sound of broken glass, several loud screams, and verbal threats to accompany both. If I was into any sort of gambling, I'd put it all on that being the first stop I'm going to have to make on this taudry attempt to restore order to this godforsaken hole. Retracting the whip, I forgoe the swing-and-dive approach in favor of a silent crawl through the back alleys. Some of the morons are positioned outside to keep watch, leaving the rest to do the dirty work just beyond the front entrance. I guess that shouldn't be too much trouble. It's just two overzealous gentlemen with a pair of machine guns. What could possibly go wrong?

"Hey, boys! Mind if I play too?"

My jaw drops as the two are suddenly intercepted by a flash of black and yellow, immediately engaged in what looks to be a two-on-one fight with some newcomer. I nearly try to make my prescence known in order to interject, halfway unsure of what to expect out of this new addition to the insanity, but the two thugs that I was about to dispatch are actually - and I can't believe I'm saying this - getting their asses handed to them before I can even move. The first one hits the ground in a heap, missing a few of his teeth from earlier, and the second is quickly overpowered by what looks to be a handspringed kick to the chest. My surprise is definitely registered by that, but what makes it worse is when I finally catch a glimpse of who's responsible.

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You've got to be kidding.

It's... a teenage girl. A redheaded twerp wearing what looks to be a homemade Batman costume. My mind nearly goes blank over the sight as I find myself stepping out of the shadows to approach. I don't know whether to congratulate her or call her an idiot for doing what she just did, but I know one thing. She's about to have company.

"Hey, you! Redhead!"

She spins around, taken off guard by the sudden voice as I run over. Seeing me coming, she assumes a defensive stance, ready to take my head off aswell with another of those kicks. But I quickly diffuse her efforts by holding up my hands in protest.

"Whoah, whoah! Take it easy. I'm not the enemy here, junior."

The girl doesn't immediately let up. "Yeah? And just how am I supposed to know that you're telling the truth?"

Angrily, I indicate the window behind her, just as the others approach with readied weapons. "I don't know, maybe it's because you didn't get all of them?!"

Convinced, she turns as the two of us face the onslaught of triggermen ready to mow us down. And in a moment of reflection, I suddenly find myself wishing I had the time to kick myself in the foot for ever agreeing to play vigilante for the night.

"Oh... that's why."

I give the girl a sneer before we both leap in opposite directions, followed by gunfire that rips through the streets. I don't know who the hell the little snot thinks she is, but she just made this twice as complicated as it was before. If that's even possible at this point.

This is exactly why I'm never having kids.

MST3K 4ever

01-06-2012, 12:21 PM

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Grodd admires the destruction and chaos that is beginning to envelope Central City.

And now for my crowning achievement!

He presses a button and within seconds a countdown that is linked to the security system at the Central City Penitentiary begins. The countdown clock appears on their monitors and begins working

Once he stops the prison riots that will very soon begin I'll let him know where to find me. In the meantime I think I'll just enjoy watching the red-fool run himself ragged and then to me and ultimately his grave.

MST3K 4ever

01-06-2012, 12:42 PM

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Oswald returns to his penthouse from his meeting in a somewhat better frame of mind with his accountant Wesley Tully following behind him.

Wesley says, "I can't believe you did that Mr. Cobblepot."

Oswald asks as he fixes a drink and asks, "What is that my dear boy?"

Wesley replies, "You paid the mortgage off on the Orphanage, and then wrote a check that is big enough to cover their operating budget for the next 5 years. That is just extraordinary!"

Oswald smiles and has his drink.

He finishes it and says, "Well Wesley to do those whom much is given much is expected. Besides I couldn't take the bureaucratic squabbling another moment I got better things to do this evening."

Oswald walks over to Titan and starts feeding him. He says to Wesley, "You'll make sure that the story is leaked out to the Gotham Globe and various media outlets. No press release don't want it to seem like I'm tooting my own horn too loudly at lest not yet."

Wesley replies, "As always sir."

Oswald says, "Excellent my boy." He strokes Titan's feathers and says, "Daddy loves you my dear one."

Wesley looks away and Oswald says, "That'll be all for the evening Wesley. Make sure everything is taken care of and call it a night."

Wesley bows and says, "Yes sir" He leaves and Oswald receives a phone call concerning the combat from his hospital source.

His source says, "You won't believe this one."

He hears a report of a woman dressed as a cat and one of teenager dressed like Batman.

Oswald says, "If it was anyone else giving me this story I wouldn't believe it. All-right thank you."

He looks at Titan and says, "If it's not one thing it's another."

Oswald sits at his desk and sends out a coded e-mail through his network.

Recent reports tell of a Catwoman and a Batgirl intervening at the hospital. This tells us that Batman is not around, however we now have others to deal with.

One Billion on each of them. If anyone gets both of them they will get Five Billion.

Penguin.

MST3K 4ever

01-06-2012, 01:14 PM

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The Atom floats into the air-vent system leading to the banquet room and evaluates the situation.

Okay let's see someone with a penchant for boomerangs, and 4 other guys with automatic weapons. I gotta move fast Kent has called the police and if they get here too quick this could go from a stick-up to a 'Die-Hard' movie very quickly.

She floats a little further and continues to evaluate her situation.

They got the numbers and firepower but I still got the element of surprise need to hold onto that.

Atom looks around the room and she begins to smile.

I think I got an idea. If I can get the lights to go out then I got a bit more of an advantage. Take out the lights then disarm two of them and disable the other two then it's me and moron in the hood. Need to time it all just right.

She floats down to the maintenance room and finds the circuit box. The Atom then kills the lights to the Banquet Room. She floats quickly back to the Banquet Room and sees the robbers somewhat disoriented as the emergency lights cut on.

Perfect time to move it!

The Atom shrinks smaller and floats out. Quickly she takes care of the firing pins in 2 of the guns.

All-right now to take out the other 2.

She then floats behind them and grows to 6 inches and nails each one in the back shifting her weight causing them to fall over onto a table and knocking them out cold.

The Atom then floats in front of Captain Boomerang just out of his reach and says, "Party's over for you and friends Captain get ready to join a new party. Down at Cell-Block D!"

Boomerang jumps to try and grab her and misses.

Atom says, "Come on you can do it! Just a Little higher."

Boomerang sees that two of his men are unconscious and yells at the other two as he backs away, "FIRE!"

They try to shoot but their guns won't fire as they spark and damage their hands. Both men fall to the ground screaming in pain.

Atom looks back at Boomerang and says, "Just you and me now. You know I'm gonna stop ya. Give it up the police are on their way!"

Boomerang pulls out a boomerang and says, "Oh no! No way Tinkerbell is taking me out!"

He throws a boomerang at The Atom she tries to avoid it but suddenly realizes a flaw in her plan.

That Boomerang is effecting the air-currents that I'm floating on! I'm losing control!

The Boomerang catches her and pins her to the wall. She is in immense amounts of pain and when she finally is able to regain her senses she sees Boomerang reloading.

He says, "Looks like that money from the Legion of Doom is mine! I knew a little mayhem and chaos would bring one of you Justice League do-gooders out! Say bye-bye Atom! Hopefully there will be enough to prove that I did kill you. I got one just for you!"

Boomerang throws a sizable boomerang that breaks off into several smaller ones.

Not good one of them is bound to hit me and when it does I'm gonna be sliced open! If I shift my weight this thing will cut me open too.

She struggles to break free....

Byrd Man

01-08-2012, 12:34 AM

http://img94.imageshack.us/img94/7199/byrdbanner.png

Previously

I stay hidden in the shadows of the alley while Jesse talk, hiding my face from her. It's pretty bad. The men who were after her dad were the same ones who killed Professor Gill. They want the formula Gill invented and Johnny used to become an NFL hall of famer. On top of that, Jesse's used the formula herself.

"Do you know where they took your father?"

"I doubled back after I got away. They took him to some shack outside Keystone, just on the banks of the river."

"Alright. I'll take it from here. Go home, Jesse. I'll return your dad back to you."

"No," Jesse says sternly. "He's my father. I'm going with you."

"I can't have that. You're untrained."

"Yep. So are you, in case you haven't noticed. The way you look and sound, you're not much older than I am. I'm coming with you."

"No. It's not open to negotiate. No. No way."

Five minutes later, Jesse and I are running side by side down the banks of the Missouri River, on the Keystone side.

"Can't believe I did this..."

What can I say? The kid put up a hell of a fight. She's not as fast as me, but she's right up there. She's about as fast as Jay was when we took on the Turtle together.

"It's just up here!"

A small cabin is just outside the woods, a good five miles out of town on the riverbanks. I slow down and let Jesse take lead.

"How long does that last? Do you need to say it every time?"

"I think so. I tired running fast again before, but it didn't work until I repeated the formula."

I pick back up and overtake Jesse, running slightly ahead of her.

"Alright, stay wary. We're coming up on the cabin. Be car-"

My brain registers the landmine as soon as I step on it. My mind is running so fast, I can feel the heat from the explosion as I try to step away, saving my leg and body from the majority of the blast.

BOOM!

The concussive blast blows me back a good ten feet. I fall to the ground hard, a few of my ribs breaking as I land.

"Flash!"

Jesse stops and runs towards me, leaning over me and looking me over.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I say through gritted teeth. "A few of my ribs are busted and my leg is in bad shape. Give me a minute, I'll be up on my feet."

"You ain't got a minute," a voice says from just outside the cabin. Jesse and I turn and see three men standing around Johnny, guns pointed at him. The man in the middle in skinny and tall. This must be Benny.

"When the boys told me the girl ran off like she did, I figured this was coming. Put a few welcoming presents in the ground."

Benny walks up to Johnny and puts the barrel of the gun to Johnny's head.

"Now, you little *****, give me the formula or your daddy dies."

I look over at Jesse. Tears are starting to form in her eyes. "Da-...Daddy..."

"Give it to him, baby," Johnny says shakily.

"NOW!" Benny shouts. "****ING NOW!"

Jesse looks over to me and I nod. "Do what he says, Jesse. Tell him the formula. But be careful..."

Jesse takes a deep breath and turns back to Benny.

"("3X2(9YZ)4A")!" She shouts. For everyone else, it all happens in the blink of an eye. But to me, it takes forever. Jesse runs across the sand and knocks Benny's gun out of his hands before she punches him in the neck. Jesse turns to Benny's friends, disarming them and taking them down in a fraction of a second.

When it's all said and done, Benny and his buddies are out for the count and Johnny and Jesse are hugging. My leg is nearly healed, so I pick myself up and limp over to them. Jesse breaks away from her dad and runs to hug me.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me, Jesse. Just call the cops."

Jesse takes a few steps back and I look over at Johnny.

"Tell them, sir. Tell them the truth. All of it."

He nods slowly and looks down at his feet. I turn back to Jesse and pat her shoulder.

"I should get going."

"Meet me," Jesse whispers in my ear. "Tomorrow evening in my backyard. I want to talk about something."

"Well, uhh...I'm flattered, I really am, but I'm kinda seeing someone already..."

Jesse rolls her eyes and pushes me away.

"It's related to something else. Just meet me."

I nod and turn away from them. My legs, now fully healed, take me away from the Quicks...uhh quickly, and back into the city within a minute.

Central City, MO

Jesse and I are sitting on the steps of her back porch. Johnny came out this afternoon and announced his retirement from the Chiefs. They barely missed out on the playoffs this year, so his career is done. He didn't say everything, but I didn't expect him to.

"I don't know what Dad is going to do now.'

"He made his money, and then some. If he was smart, you guys should be financially fine."

"I don't think that's a problem. I just don't want him to get worn down and bored."

"With you watching him, I think he should be fine...so what did you want to talk about?"

"Yeah, about that," she starts hesitantly. "I think...I think I want to be a superhero...'

"What? Seriously?"

"Yeah. You saw me last night. With that formula, I'm almost as fast as you. I can do a lot of good."

"But you're sixteen!"

"You've been the Flash for how many years now? How old were you when you first started?"

Seventeen, almost eighteen.

"That's...that's not the issue here! This is serious stuff, Jesse. You just can't become a superhero on some half-wit impulse!"

"I'm not asking your permission," she says stubbornly. "I'm telling you. So either we can work together, or you can stay out of my way."

"I...I...could use sidekick...," I say with a shrug. What she's saying is rash, bold, and not that thought out. Just like me. And that worked out alright...I guess.

"I got a few suit ideas we can work on and I need a name."

"Before we do this...I need to show you something."

I grab my mask and slid it off my head, letting it hang off the back of my neck.

"Hey there, Jesse."

"Hey, Bart," she says without missing a beat. "Dude, the first time you stopped vibrating I knew it was you."

"Well, so much for that. Anyway, if you want to be my sidekick, we need to work out a good name."

"I like what you said about my idea."

"You want to call yourself Half-Wit?"

"No. Impulse."

"Impulse? It's okay. Why not something simpler, though? Like Kid Flash?"

"No way. Impulse it is."

"Alright, fine. I can already tell you're gonna be an uppity ward."

Two Days Later
Central City, MO

I run through the city at break neck speeds, fixing everything from busted water pipes to preventing accidents, to rounding zoo animals back up and into their cages. I come to a skidding stop downtown and listen to the scanner in my earpiece.

"All available units, please respond to Central City Prison. Prison riot is currently going on. Correctional officers in need of assistance."

I take off for the prison, wondering who's behind this attack. I have a pretty good idea it's Axel Walker, a hacker who calls himself the Trixster. No sign of Snart and his superpowered crew yet, so he may not be behind it.

I bolt through the prison, placing prisoners back in their cells, taking their weapons, administering first aid to the guards, and mopping the floors of all the blood and filth. The prison is spotless and all is right with the world as I stand in the middle of Cell Block E.

Only took a minute flat.

Andy C.

01-08-2012, 03:30 AM

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/batman9.png

PREVIOUSLY

"Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder," I say as I circle Sebastian, or 'Brother Blood' as he's calling himself. "You're going to be put away for a very long time."

Despite the certainty in my voice, there's a waver in my step. Whatever it was he hit me with at the beginning of this fight, it seems to have drained my strength. I feel like I've been running all day through syrup with heavy weights strapped to me.

"I see your mind is just as enfeebled as your body," he says, circling me in turn with long, graceful strides, "if you believe I am beholden to the laws of lesser mortals. The word of Trigon is the only law I obey. My lord and master has promised me the girl. She is mine, as the world is his, to do with as I please."

Brother Blood holds out his hands, and dark red flames seem to ignite in his palms.

"Who are you to stop me, boy?" he asks mockingly.

"Just a concerned citizen," I say, reaching for my utility belt and dropping some smoke pellets onto the floor. The width of the smokescreen's spread and the thickness of the smoke itself is way more than I was expecting--Batman's gear thoroughly outclasses the stuff I had made myself--but it allows me to slip away into the wings.

I don't think I'm in any condition to fight Brother Blood head-on. He must be some kind of metahuman, or maybe equipped with cybernetic weapons. Either way, he's weakened me to a state where I don't believe a direct assault will lead to anything but him killing me.

"Clever, little boy," Brother Blood says, cutting through the smokescreen with flares of crimson fire. "But you cannot hide from me forever. I will find you, and kill you when I do. Against the power of Trigon, there can only be death. If you were wise, you would take the opportunity to run."

The infra-red vision within my new mask's eyepieces let me see exactly where Blood is while he thrashes around in the smoke. Approaching quietly from behind, I roll a flash grenade towards his feet.

*FWASH!*

"Arrgh!" Sebastian snarls, and before he can regain his bearings, I charge with a collapsible billy-club drawn and club him in the knee. The blow isn't as hard as I wanted it to be, but it's enough to take him off his feet.

I wind up for another blow, but suddenly the flames in Brother Blood's hands become large fiery claws, wildly slashing around him. I duck underneath a row of pews, crawling away from him.

"You will suffer for that!" he spits. "I swear it, every second you evade me now will be a week you spend in torment before I allow you to die!"

"It doesn't look like you're in any position to 'allow' me to do anything," my voice carries from behind the pulpit.

Brother Blood lets loose with an enormous blast of blood-red flames, utterly incinerating the old wooden pulpit....

....as well as the small wireless speaker I had planted there to throw him off.

Instead, I swing down from the church's balcony, planting both feet directly into his back. Brother Blood goes crashing to the floor, and I use up the rest of my strength running towards Rachel, still unconscious and unmoving on the altar.

"C'mon....wake up, we.....have to go," I say, my breath ragged, producing a small vial of smelling salts and waving it under her nose. "I can't....can't carry you. You've got.....to wake up. Rachel, please! He's....he's going to--GAAAH!"

Suddenly, it feels like a thousand clawed hands are grabbing me all over, digging their fingernails into my skin as they pull me away from Rachel and into the air.

"Enough of this," Brother Blood growls. "I will not be denied of my prize by some child armed with parlor tricks and toys! I am going to make you beg for death, boy. And your screams will be but the first of many, once humanity is brought under the heel of--"

"STOP!"

A bolt of what looks like living shadow lashes out, striking Brother Blood in the face. He goes tumbling across the church, the old masonry crumbling around him when he slams into a wall.

I fall to the floor, and look up to see what just happened.

"......Rachel?"

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/Raven-teen-titans-481368_600_440.jpg

Tonight just keeps getting weirder.

"No....this was not meant to be," Brother Blood says, picking himself up from beneath the rubble. "You should have been asleep for the transference to begin....you should not have awakened!"

Blood hurls a blast of dark red fire towards Rachel, who is still surrounded by swirling black. Whatever kind of energy they're throwing around, the stuff coming from Rachel is clearly stronger--it deflects Brother Blood's attack without her even making a conscious reaction to it.

"I said STOP!" she yells, and the swirling black cloud becomes a wave, rushing forward and obliterating everything in its path. I hit the deck and it passes over me, but Brother Blood is caught in it and swept off his feet.

"Aaaaargh!" he shouts, tumbling head over heels before slamming into the back wall.

I scramble to my feet and make my way towards Rachel. Brother Blood is pinned to the wall, but she keeps pouring that inky black energy at him. It washes over him, and he writhes in agony, his costume torn to shreds, his skin peeling off in patches.

"Please, listen to me," I say, getting as close to Rachel as I can without her swirling black force field knocking me back. "You have to stop; you're going to kill him!"

Not too long ago, I had made the decision to take a man's life. I was obsessed with it, consumed by the need to see that man dead.....and it nearly destroyed me. Had Mister Wayne not taken his mask off when he did, I would have ended his life and ruined my own.

I can't....I won't.....let my only friend do the same thing to herself.

"N--....NOOO! STOP!" Blood screams in pain, flickers of red flame igniting around him before being swallowed up by the blackness as he tries in vain to summon his own powers.

"Please, you've got to listen to me," I plead with her. "This isn't a path you want to go down. Believe me."

I'm not sure if she can even hear me; she seems focused on turning her new powers against her kidnapper. Cautiously, I take another step forward, stepping into the black cloud around her.

"Whatever it is he said you are, it doesn't matter! You don't have to be that! You can be whatever you choose to be......but you have to choose to let go...."

I step through the cloud, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Rachel....please.....let go."

Finally, she turns her eyes to me, and blinks. Just like that, the black cloud of energy around her dissipates, and the tattered Brother Blood falls to the floor in a heap. She shakes her head like she's snapping out of a daydream, then stares at me, confused.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brother Blood pulling himself to his feet.

"This is not over," he snarls. "You will be mine, daughter of Trigon. And as for you, boy....I will make sure you watch our union just before you die."

He raises his hands, and I'm fast on the draw with a net-launcher. However, before the net reaches him, he vanishes in a flash of red flame. I run to where he was standing, but he's gone. Nothing on the thermal imaging either. He's just....gone.

I turn back to Rachel, but when I approach her, she backs away.

"Get away from me!" she shouts, panicking. "I don't know what's going on, I don't know what they did to me, or how I did that. What's happening to me?!"

"I don't know," I say, trying to keep my voice carefully level. "But it's over now. You just have to come with me and we'll get everything--"

"No, no, I'm not going anywhere with anyone," Rachel says, a growl in her voice. "I just....I just need to be alone."

"Calm down," I say, "you just have to--"

"Leave me ALONE!" she yells, and suddenly the inky black energy erupts from her hands, throwing me back.

"Ngh!" I grunt as I hit the concrete floor. Quickly springing back to my feet, I see Rachel propel herself into the air, the black energy stretching out in front of her and ripping apart the roof of the old cathedral.

Stone and metal rains down all around me as I pull out a grapnel gun and fire it upwards. The state that she's in, she's a danger to herself and everyone else in the city.

The line goes taut and pulls me out into the Gotham night as the cathedral collapses upon itself, sending a huge cloud of dust into the sky. Rachel flies through the air, still in a panic, probably not helped by the fact that she's suddenly discovered she can fly and doesn't know how to control it yet. I spread out the folds of my cape and dive off of the rooftop, the cape's memory-cloth going rigid and forming a glider wing as I fall. Pulling up sharply, I follow after my friend through the city streets.

"Come back!" I call after her. "You don't know what you're doing!"

Granted, I don't know what she's doing either, but I'd like to think I could figure out a way to help somehow.

"Get away!" she shouts back, hurling bolts of black towards me, shattering windows and concrete as they burst against the buildings around us. "Don't make me hurt you!"

As I start to lose altitude, I realize that I'm not going to catch up with her simply by gliding; I've got to be able to propel myself as well, or she's going to get away.

I take one hand away from the glider-cape and go for a loaded grapnel gun on my utility belt. I aim for the roof of a nearby building and fire. The shot goes a little wide, hitting the air conditioning unit on the building rather than the ledge, but it will work. I activate the grapnel's winch, zipping me up the line with an alarming speed. As I reach the end of the line, I let go and soar high over the building, giving myself the boost I need to keep up with Rachel.

"You're going to hurt somebody!" I shout again, the wind drowning out most of my voice. "Just calm down, and--"

*BLAM!*

A bright green bolt of energy whizzes past me, clipping Rachel in the shoulder. She spins downward, tumbling out of the sky and landing on the roof of an apartment complex.

I spread out the glider wing to catch more air, slowing my flight so I can land on the same rooftop. I run towards Rachel, but another bolt of energy impacts in front of me.

I look up and see a strangely familiar face.

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/starfire.jpg

"I do not wish to harm either of you....but I am putting a stop to this destruction now!"

....and just when I thought the situation couldn't get more complicated.

MST3K 4ever

01-08-2012, 03:32 PM

Two Days Later
Central City, MO

I run through the city at break neck speeds, fixing everything from busted water pipes to preventing accidents, to rounding zoo animals back up and into their cages. I come to a skidding stop downtown and listen to the scanner in my earpiece.

"All available units, please respond to Central City Prison. Prison riot is currently going on. Correctional officers in need of assistance."

I take off for the prison, wondering who's behind this attack. I have a pretty good idea it's Axel Walker, a hacker who calls himself the Trixster. No sign of Snart and his superpowered crew yet, so he may not be behind it.

I bolt through the prison, placing prisoners back in their cells, taking their weapons, administering first aid to the guards, and mopping the floors of all the blood and filth. The prison is spotless and all is right with the world as I stand in the middle of Cell Block E.

Only took a minute flat.

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/GRODDBANNER-2.jpg

Grodd watches the Flash move through the various sitautions and the prison riot.

Somewhat impressive for a human. Now it's time for more. Let's see if he can fly or walk on water

Grodd presses two buttons and then suddenly Central City International Airport's ari-traffic control system is now in the hands of Grodd. He begins to manipulate the computer system and feeding it false information leading to mass confusion and chaos at the airport just as two riverboats explode and being to sink along the Central City River.

Grodd taps into the Prison P-A system and says (through a computer distorter with sounds of the water-front underneath), "Run Flash Run! If you listen closely you'll find me."

MST3K 4ever

01-08-2012, 04:47 PM

http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1976/ultrequestld8.gif

The Atom continues to struggle as the boomerangs are approaching.

Time to pull a rabbit out of the hat!

The Atom shrinks smaller and smaller until she is able to slide out away from the boomerang holding her in place. She crawls on top of the boomerang and holds onto the edge as the other pass over her head. The Atom feels them slam into the wall and the impact are painful to her.

Ahhh! This is not good.

She sees Capt. Boomerang approaching.

I gotta get out of here. At my current size it wont take much effort for him to crush me.

The Atom steps of the edge and floats to a nearby table and crawls under a centerpeice. She grows back to about 6 inches and lays on her back trying to catch her breath.

Taking deep breaths is real painful which tells me that I probably have some broken ribs, and some brusing. Can't take Boomerang on like this, but I can't leave him in here with the people I....

Just then she notices her hiding space getting lighter and lighter.

Oh No! If I'm going down I'm going down fighting!

She sees Boomerang standing over her with the centerpeice in one hand and thermograph scanner in another.

Boomerang says, "Peek-A-Boo! Well well little one looks like you've seen your better day. Don't worry you've got my word soon your suffering will be over."

The Atom grits her teeth and stands up on her feet. She shifts her weight and floats upward and says, "Take your best shot chump!"

Boomerang throws the centerpeice aside and pulls out a handheld fan and says, "Not exactly a lot of style or any of that but at your size and weight this will feel like a hurricane!"

Boomerang activates the fan and blows The Atom across the room as she lands on top of the bar.

The Atom gets back on her feet and is struggling to gather her senses, and Boomerang says approaching her, "You got a lot of spirit I'll give you that, but time to end this one."

The Atom picks up a bottle of seltzer and tosses it in the air. Boomerang looks at it and The Atom launches herself at Boomerang's stomach with all her might.

"OOOOFFFFFFFFFF!!!!" Boomerang exclams as he doubles over The Atom then nails him in the face with a left & right and Boomerang collapses.

The Atom floats over to the bar and disconnects the phone. She takes the cord and ties up Boomerang as she hears police sirens closing in.

The Atom says, "Right on time fellas."

She floats away into the vent system and back to where she and Kent parted company. The Atom transforms back into Rhiannon and sits down on a bench.

Ahhh no matter the size my mid-section is a mess right now! Nothing a ton of percocet and a month in the whirl-pool won't fix.

Kent approaches Rhiannon and says, "The Police are here, and from what I heard The Atom showed up too and took care of things."

Rhiannon replies, "Yeah that's what I heard too. Listen Kent my stomach is acting up can I take a rain-check. I mean I really want to go out with you again. Maybe there won't be another die-hard situation. Please don't take this as a sign I don't want to go out with you."

Kent says, "No problem the situation here has kinda put a damper on the evening. I look forward to a real date with you."

They talk to the police and go back to her apartment. Kent walks her to the door.

He says, "Call ya tomorrow."

Rhiannon nods and says, "Absolutely. I can't wait."

They kiss and eventually break. Rhiannon enters her apartment and smiles at her mom and says, "It was an interesting evening. I'll tell you about it in a few. I gotta to get my heating pad."

She puts on a nightgown and sets up her heating pad on the couch. Rhiannon lays on the couch and tells her mom everything and concludes her re-cap with, "Not a bad night all things considered."

Her mom asks, "At least it wasn't boring. So Kent's calling you tomorrow?"

Rhiannon says with a great deal of giddyness trying to get the phone and smiling, "Not if I call him first."

She winces and grunts in pain as she reaches the phone and Alice says taking the phone out of reach, "There's no crime in waiting Rhiannon. I know you really like him, but you're not going to be much of a conversationalist if you're wincing and grunting in pain."

Rhiannon looks as though she wants to argue but rolls her eyes as she lays back down.

Alice says, "I know I know you hate it when mom is right."

Rhiannon smirks and says, "Well at least you're back in my life." She closes her eyes and fades off to sleep.

Byrd Man

01-08-2012, 09:52 PM

Grodd presses two buttons and then suddenly Central City International Airport's ari-traffic control system is now in the hands of Grodd. He begins to manipulate the computer system and feeding it false information leading to mass confusion and chaos at the airport just as two riverboats explode and being to sink along the Central City River.

Grodd taps into the Prison P-A system and says (through a computer distorter with sounds of the water-front underneath), "Run Flash Run! If you listen closely you'll find me."

What the hell....

"I don't know who the hell you are, but..."

My earpiece comes to life with activity from all over the city.

"Umm, to summarize: you bad, me good. You pay."

With that, I take off and race through the city, rescuing passengers from planes about to crash into each other as they taxi on the runway. Another crisis off the Missouri River. Two of the tourist ferry boats are sinking. Running to the river, I skim across the water and see another figure running across the water.

http://i44.tinypic.com/2czq9oi.png

"I heard the scanners. Where do you need me?" Jesse asks as we run side by side towards the boats.

"I take the one on the left, you go for the one on the right."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Nice outfit, by the way. Lot better than my first outfit."

"Thanks. See you on the banks."

We split up,both of us carrying passengers and crew members of the sinking boat across the water to the Central City side of the river. It takes a few minutes, but the slowly sinking boats are now empty and about a hundred people are safely on the riverbanks while Jesse and I stand off to the side.

"Who's doing this?"

"No idea. I know it's not Walker. The voice I heard on the loudspeaker was different. Even with the distortion, I could tell it wasn't him..."

MST3K 4ever

01-09-2012, 07:20 PM

What the hell....

"I don't know who the hell you are, but..."

My earpiece comes to life with activity from all over the city.

"Umm, to summarize: you bad, me good. You pay."

With that, I take off and race through the city, rescuing passengers from planes about to crash into each other as they taxi on the runway. Another crisis off the Missouri River. Two of the tourist ferry boats are sinking. Running to the river, I skim across the water and see another figure running across the water.

http://i44.tinypic.com/2czq9oi.png

"I heard the scanners. Where do you need me?" Jesse asks as we run side by side towards the boats.

"I take the one on the left, you go for the one on the right."

"Sounds like a plan to me."

"Nice outfit, by the way. Lot better than my first outfit."

"Thanks. See you on the banks."

We split up,both of us carrying passengers and crew members of the sinking boat across the water to the Central City side of the river. It takes a few minutes, but the slowly sinking boats are now empty and about a hundred people are safely on the riverbanks while Jesse and I stand off to the side.

"Who's doing this?"

"No idea. I know it's not Walker. The voice I heard on the loudspeaker was different. Even with the distortion, I could tell it wasn't him..."

http://i1138.photobucket.com/albums/n533/Levi_Steinbock/GRODDBANNER-4.jpg

Grodd watches the situation unfold and then sees Jesse arrive to assist.

Another one. No matter I'll take care of her as well. In fact I might be able to use her eventually.

With that Grodd put on his telepathy helmet and locks in on the brainwaves of Jesse and Flash.

He says to them through telepathy, "If you think you're day is done you're right. The day is dawning when you two shall be nothing more than fleeting memories in the minds of the people. Follow the pulse and all shall be revealed."

Grodd then begins transmitting a pulse through the telepathic link.

He says, "The closer you get the stronger the pulse gets. Hurry Hurry though! Who knows what other disasters await you. Besides I've got better things to do than deal with two speed-freaks."

Carnage27

01-09-2012, 08:34 PM

Boy Blue
~No Place Like Home~
Part 5

The horns of battle sound as the allied army gathers around the Emerald City. I'm at its head, along with the Scarecrow, Tin Man, and the Winkine general. The Winkies' facepaint and silver spears gleam in the fading sunlight as they shift in their saddles. Above us, Bufkin and the rest of the flying monkeys swarm, small knives and claws ready for the battle ahead. And behind the Winkies, a cadre of talking, ferocious Animals wait their turn.

"You're sure this will work?" the Scarecrow asks me.

"As long as your maps are correct, this will work like a charm," I nod. "Cindy knows how to do things quietly. As long as the Wizard's attention is on us, she should be able to free the witches."

Cinderella and a group of Munchkin commandos have infiltrated the sewers and tunnels underneath the city in order to free Glinda who has been imprisoned since the Emperor's takeover, and Elphaba who has apparently been reincarnated and imprisoned as well.

"I hope the person that fed us this info wasn't lying," the Tin Man grumbles. He, as well as the Scarecrow, quickly joined the resistance against the Adversary as soon as the realized they had been dooped. "Or else we're walking into a gigantic trap."

"No time to think about that now," the Winkie says as the gates of the Emerald City open, and out pours an army led by the Wizard's Shock Troops, but also bolstered with goblins and orcs from the Adversary's own troops. "So it begins."

An orc horn blows, and the Winkies charge down the hill towards the city, me in the saddle along with them.

Batman

01-10-2012, 04:06 AM

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"Fall back! All of you!"

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One by one, the deadly creatures emerged from the shadows of the deep, their lifeless eyes drifting from each man ahead of them as if they were attempting to decide who to devour first. G'thar's army was brave and loyal, to a fault - but with two men already killed by the nameless creatures, the morale among them was inarguably grim. Only G'thar and Orin, who was desperately trying to get a handle on what he was seeing, held the line ahead of the group and bravely took a defensive stance. The General unsheathed his silver trident from his back, while Orin chose the more personable weapon of a close-range dagger attached to his hip. The two men gave eachother a knowing eye and said nothing. Neither men saw this to be a battle - it was only destined to be a momentary distraction.

"For Atlantis!"

Vaulting forward through the water, both G'thar and Aquaman lunged directly for their inhuman targets and prepared for an attack. But the creatures, sensing the imminent threat, immediately sprang into action by swimming into a frenzy, disorienting the approach almost as if by design. By the time that the two could realize what was happening, they found themselves neck-in-neck with the monsters, overcome with an incredible strength that neither had expected. G'thar tumbled into the shadows, overtaken by several of the beasts at once, as the remaining group set their sights for the Atlantean Guard. Only three remained for Aquaman, who valiantly pushed himself back from a the side of reef to free himself of his attacker's grip.

They were definitely not Atlanteans. And though he had never crossed their path before, Orin knew that only he possessed the gift capable of reasoning with these creatures. Choosing to take advantage of the moment as they circled around him like a pack of hungry sharks, Aquaman stared off into the distance and concentrated hard.

"You don't want to hurt us. And none of us wish to harm you, so begone. Go back to wherever you came."

But before he could finish his plea, Orin watched as the silent creatures began to move in closer, swimming even faster than before and readying each row of razor sharp teeth that were plainly visible. For a moment, he was surprised. No creature of the seas had ever been able to resist Tethys' gift before. But the moment to consider what could have possibly gone wrong was long since over, as two of the three creatures began to dive straight for their prey. All that Orin could do was retaliate.

"Very well. You shall have it your way,"

His warrior's mentality replacing all sense of logic and reason, Aquaman savagely spun around and sliced hard into the face of his enemy with the cold blade of the dagger. Then he ripped it from it's skin and stabbed twice more, believing it would kill it in an instant. He was surprised to realize it wasn't the case, as the creature simply backed away to allow it's bretheren to press on with the attack. What could these things possibly be?

Preparing to once again swipe the blade at his enemies, Orin wasn't given the chance to react as the immensely powerful beasts wrestled him back, trying to bite at his face and arms. Before he knew it, he had dropped the dagger, losing it to the dark of the deep. Gritting his teeth, he instead resolved to finish the fight with bare hands, grabbing back at both creatures and clenching his hands into their jagged mouths and attempting to rip them apart at the jaw. But his attack proved unsuccessful, as he and the two creatures slammed headlong into another reef.

"ARGH!"

The creatures drew blood through their claws, reopening a previously closed wound that had not yet healed from his battle with Poseidon and Ocean Master. Aquaman grabbed hold of the first creature's arm and bashed him across the face with his elbow, connecting a hard fist to the other one's chest. While both were knocked back by Orin's own raw strength, neither sustained any serious harm, lurching back for more. Positioning his legs so that they leaned against the reef, Aquaman launched forward and hit them both with the brunt of his frame, taking them with him as he swam fast through the water.

Tossing them ahead, he stopped himself as they did, almost immediately staring eachother down. Orin only seemed to smirk, despite the harrowing circumstances.

"I feel I should warn you both. I've never easily gone down."

Drawing his sword, Aquaman swiped it at the first's neck and successfully decapitated the beast. Satisfied, he prepared to attack the other. But something horrifying caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, as he looked back at the creature he had just successfully maimed. It's head was already growing back, and the body was far from dead, tripling the rate of even his healing abilities.

Looking down at the sword, Orin defeatedly sheathed it back into it's holster, realizing it had no effect on the creatures. And realized that he was beginning to see that nothing would. They were completely unknown to him, despite his many years of travels across Atlantis itself, encountering hundreds of millions of sealife. These creatures, it almost seemed, did not belong. They were abominations.

"What will it take to kill you?"

He foolishly asked the question as if there was supposed to be some answer. Instead, all that he was given was another merciless attack, as the third rejoined the group after healing it's damaged face to help slaughter their target. Feeling as though he had no other option left, knowing he was far from any sort of useful creature that could help even the struggle, Orin reached to the back of his shirt and produced the gold trident he had recently acquired. The same trident once used by Poseidon himself.

Nothing assured his survival. And he was content with that.

"Come on, then. You want death?"

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"Then face it here. Face it now!"

MST3K 4ever

01-10-2012, 12:08 PM

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Oswald strolls through his Aviary on his estate grounds feeding and caring for his birds when he gets a phone call from General Manual Borbon on the island of East LaSerna.

Oswald says, "General how are you old-friend?"

The General replies, "First off thank you for the shipment of guns Penguin they are proving to be most effective, but there is an issue I need help with."

The Penguin replies, "Good to hear what's on your mind?"

The General says, "Penguin it looks as though inspite of your assistance my time here is at an end. I fear I will be needing to leave to a more hospitable place. I was hoping that you could use some of your contacts and arrange it for me."

The Penguin says, "I think that could be arranged where are you thinking?"

The General replies, "Rio or Brazil I have contacts in both places once I get there I can go into hiding."

The Penguin says, "Fair enough my friend, but what of your family?"

The General replies, "They've betrayed me. They've decided to help the rebels leaving me to fend for myself. Ungrateful worms after all I've done for them! I'm on a secure line and about to go into hiding."

The Penguin goes over to his lap-top and punches a few buttons and within seconds is able to pin-point the General's location.

The Penguin says, "Well give me 24 hours and your passage out will be assured."

The General replies, "Thank you my friend. I will not forget this!"

The Penguin says, "I am sure you won't."

He hangs up the phone and contacts the General's wife.
Oswald says, "Marlene this is Oswald Cobblepot.How are you my dear one?"

She replies, "Not in the mood for games, but always willing to make time for a friend. What can I do for you?"

Penguin says, "I had a most interesting conversation moments ago with your soon to be ex-husband. It seems he is looking to flee the country and I'll bet he takes the treasury with him."

She replies, "Where is he? We've been looking for weeks for him!"

Oswald says, "Now now this information comes with a price."

She replies, "Name it!"

The Penguin says, "Any information of me having anything to do with your husband is destroyed. I don't exist to him. I will send the information on a coded channel through your cell-phone."

Marlene says, "Fair enough Oswald."

Oswald sends her the information he pulled from the cell-phone and within seconds she says, "We got him! Oswald thank you but why are you helping us? You are friends with Manual."

Oswald replies, "As the old song goes you got to know when to hold 'em and know when to fold 'em. I see which way the wind is blowing and I've got no interest in standing in the way."

Marlene says, "All-right then. You will always have friends within our new Government when it is established."

Oswald says, "Thank you Marlene.Good Hunting."

Within hours the press is reporting on the street shooting of General Manual Borbon the butcher of East LaSerna.

Byrd Man

01-10-2012, 12:50 PM

With that Grodd put on his telepathy helmet and locks in on the brainwaves of Jesse and Flash.

He says to them through telepathy, "If you think you're day is done you're right. The day is dawning when you two shall be nothing more than fleeting memories in the minds of the people. Follow the pulse and all shall be revealed."

Grodd then begins transmitting a pulse through the telepathic link.

He says, "The closer you get the stronger the pulse gets. Hurry Hurry though! Who knows what other disasters await you. Besides I've got better things to do than deal with two speed-freaks."

Jesse and I exchange looks.

"Am I the only one hearing this?"

"Strangely, you're not."

"I think we're walking into a trap."

"Possibly. But like he said; the longer we wait, the more disasters he can start."

"Alrighty then. FLASH AND IMPULSE, AWAY!"

I take off, Jesse right beside me as we run through the city, towards this strange signal pulsing through the air.

"I thought we were Impulse and Flash?"

"Please. I get top billing. Always top billing."

MST3K 4ever

01-10-2012, 03:32 PM

Jesse and I exchange looks.

"Am I the only one hearing this?"

"Strangely, you're not."

"I think we're walking into a trap."

"Possibly. But like he said; the longer we wait, the more disasters he can start."

"Alrighty then. FLASH AND IMPULSE, AWAY!"

I take off, Jesse right beside me as we run through the city, towards this strange signal pulsing through the air.

"I thought we were Impulse and Flash?"

"Please. I get top billing. Always top billing."

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Grodd smiles with great malice as he watches the speedsters approach.

Humans are so predictable.

Grodd presses a button and the computer equipment is camouflaged.

He then sits in a corner and begins to shiver.

Time to practice the art of deception and channel my inner-Abraham.

He looks over at a reflection of himself and sees a truly sad and frightened gorilla.

Excellent! Who can resist?

MST3K 4ever

01-11-2012, 12:22 PM

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Rhiannon is in her office at Met-Tech finishing up grading papers while enjoying a latte.

Not a bad group of students I got going for me this semester. Although some need some help or to change their major.

She puts her papers in her briefcase and is still moving somewhat gingerly but has shown marked improvement.

At least the ribs have finally healed and the bruising is fading out to a point where I might be able to get a workout in maybe tomorrow. I just wonder how long before the Legion of Doom makes their next move and how the others are handling being hunted down. At least I've had sometime to recover if the Legion tried to attack while I was on the mend no way I could've taken them.

Just then there is a knock at her door. She says, "It's open."

Kent Nelson opens her door and asks, "Gotta minute?"

Rhiannon replies, "Sure come on in."

Kent enters and closes the door. He asks, "I got two tickets courtside for the Knicks-Stallions match-up tomorrow night. Care for dinner and a game as our first real date?"

Rhiannon smiles and says, "What time?"

Kent says, "We'll leave here at 5:00 I know a bar & grill about two blocks from the arena."

Rhiannon replies, "Done."

They smile at each other and after a moment Kent says, "See ya then."

Rhiannon says, "Lookin' forward to it."

Kent leaves and Rhiannon gets ready to leave her office just as she gets a phone call from Pete Ross.

She answers the phone and asks, "What's on your mind Pete?"

Pete replies, "I think life just got a bit more complicated for you."

Rhiannon says, "Of course it does things are going good for me and the universe decides to slap me down for being happy. What now?"

Pete asks, "Can you meet me here in the next couple of minutes?"

Rhiannon replies, "Sure I'm on my way."

She activates the hands-free setting and Rhiannon transforms into The Atom and rides the phone current to Pete's location.

The Atom emerges growing to 6 inches and asks, "What's up Pete?"

Pete looks at her and says, "Plenty."

He pushes a folder in-front of her and says, "Take a look at this..."

The Atom begins reading the folder and says, "Why am I not surprised."

Byrd Man

01-11-2012, 01:09 PM

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Jesse and I chase the beacon across town, all the way back to the river and to a rundown warehouse on the docks.

"All the way across town to come right back here. Starting to get tired of this guy stringing us along."

We slow down and start walking through the dilapidated and abandoned warehouse. Jesse and I split up and a few minutes later, I hear it

"FLASH!"

I take off and follow Jesse's voice to where she's standing.

He then sits in a corner and begins to shiver.

Time to practice the art of deception and channel my inner-Abraham.

He looks over at a reflection of himself and sees a truly sad and frightened gorilla.

Excellent! Who can resist?

"What's a monkey doing here?"

"It's a gorilla, not a monkey. Different kind of primates."

"Yeah, I knew that..."

MST3K 4ever

01-11-2012, 03:18 PM

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"FLASH!"

I take off and follow Jesse's voice to where she's standing.

"What's a monkey doing here?"

"It's a gorilla, not a monkey. Different kind of primates."

"Yeah, I knew that..."

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Grodd sees the two approaching.

No not yet.

He looks frightened and pulls away. Grodd then proceeds to curl up in a ball and look away.

Just a little closer you disgusting and vile sacks of meat and this primate will show what he is truly capable of.

Byrd Man

01-11-2012, 03:52 PM

Grodd sees the two approaching.

No not yet.

He looks frightened and pulls away. Grodd then proceeds to curl up in a ball and look away.

Just a little closer you disgusting and vile sacks of meat and this primate will show what he is truly capable of.

Jesse approaches the gorilla and I stay a bit back.

"Be careful. He's a wild animal. No telling what he might do."

"Don't worry. He's just a bit frightened, is all...come here, guy. We'll get you to a good home."

MST3K 4ever

01-11-2012, 09:13 PM

Jesse approaches the gorilla and I stay a bit back.

"Be careful. He's a wild animal. No telling what he might do."

"Don't worry. He's just a bit frightened, is all...come here, guy. We'll get you to a good home."

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Grodd now begins to uncoil and slowly move towards Jesse with the same sad expression on his face.

He says, through telepathy, "Oh foolish girl! I am home!"

His expression changes to that of fear to almost demonic and he uncoils to maximum height. Grodd unleashes his mind-control power over Jesse.

Grodd then says, "Prepare to have your reality altered forever! Kill THE FLASH! NOW!"

Byrd Man

01-11-2012, 10:58 PM

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Previously

Cape Town, South Africa
1621 Local Time

The four members of Task Force X walked through the open market just on the outskirts of town in their civilian clothes, their weapons hidden under their clothes. A combination of Afrikaans, English, and Swazi was being spoken by the shoppers and merchants alike. All the chatter pertained to the recent tragedy in Egypt. Superhuman terrorists had destroyed the Aswan Dam and flooded the nearby farmlands.

"Any updates on that?" Flag said under his breath, the embedded microphone in his back right molar picked it up.

"I got my people working on it," Waller replied. "Far as I can tell, it wasn't Jihad. The current theory the Company is kicking around is that it was those superpowered freaks who crashed that UN meeting while we were in Nigeria. Doesn't matter right now. Important thing is that you extract our man in Cape Town. He may have intel relating to the attack."

"Right. Flag out."

Flag killed the signal and turned to his team. Nightshade was dressed in all black, sunglasses covering her pale face. Lawton was in jeans and a black t-shirt, a cigarette hanging out his mouth. The Squad's newest member, the man who called himself Dr. Polaris, actually had the audacity to dress in a suit and tie for the mission. Flag himself was wearing his yellow shirt and jeans.

"Alright. Spread out and cover me. Nightshade will stick close while Deadshot and Polaris work the edges of the market and look out for anything suspicious."

"Whatever," Polaris grumbled. "I should just run away right now. I still think that your talk about a bomb in my head is a load of bull****."

"You run, Polaris? I won't detonate the bomb. I'll command Deadshot himself to take you down."

Lawton smiled and winked at Polaris. "The colonel ain't lying. He gave me a set of special ceramic bullets to take you down with. No a bit of metal on them."

"Enough jawing. Time's wasting here. Get to work."

The two men began to walk through the crowd while Flag and Nighshade walked together through the market. Flag counted off stands and vendors, stopping at a wall beside the sixth vendor on the right side of the market. Nightshade watched the crowd as Flag felt the bricks on the wall, stopping when he came to a loose one halfway down the wall. Flag pulled the loose one out and reached into the hole. There was a scrap of paper inside the hole. Flag took it out and put the brick back in its place, making a tiny tic-tac-toe grid on the brick with a piece of chalk. Flag and Nightshade walked away and went back into the market, emerging a few minutes later with Nightshade and Polaris behind them.

"What's it say, Rick?"

Flag straightened the paper out and looked at the words scribbled on it.

"It says 'meet tonight, 0300. 520 Kloof Street, the Gardens."

Flag stuffed the paper into his jean pocket and activated the bluetooth in his ear.

"Waller, I just serviced the dead drop. The meet is on for three am in the downtown area."

"10-4. I'll start arranging an evac for the five of you now. Head over to the meet site and start securing it now. There should be a sniper rifle for Lawton in that care package I sent with you."

"Roger that. We're on our way. Flag out."

Cape Town, South Africa
0257 Local Time

Rick Flag leaned against the side of the building and did his best to fit in as the bar patrons on Kloof Street began to file out into the street. Last call had come and gone, now old drunks and young college students alike staggered towards cabs and headed home. Flag briefly made eye contact with Nightshade as she passed by him. She was wearing civilian clothes, a weapon concealed in her pants leg. Polaris was somewhere further up the street, watching from that side of the street for their contact. Lawton was above them all, perched on a rooftop with a sniper rifle, scanning the scene below.

Flag watched as an Olive skinned man in jeans and a jacket slowly walked by. The man stopped and turned around, walking up to Flag with his cellphone out.

"Excuse me," the man said. He had a slight Arabic accent. "My mobile seems to have lost its charge. I need to call my step-sister who lives in Arkansas. May I borrow yours?"

"Sorry," Flag said with a shrug. "I have a phone, but it's with my sister, who also lives in Arkansas."

"Ah, well. Maybe our sister could join a knitting circle."

The man walked off and Flag watched him go.

"We got our man," he whispered into the micro comm in his back molar. "He gave the confirmation code. I'm following. Eve, Polaris, say with me."

Flag pushed off the wall and slowly walked a hundred or so yards behind the man. Nightshade followed him from the other side of the street. The man ducked into the alley and Flag followed. When he turned the corner, the man was waiting for him.

"Hey there, Colonel," he said, his accent disappearing. He pulled out a rag and rubbed his face, revealing a white face underneath the makeup he wore.

"You're Waller's inside man?" Flag asked as the man pulled off the black wig and ran his fingers through his blonde hair.

"I am indeed," the agent codenamed Nemesis said. "And I have got some seriously scary intel for the Wall."

Batman

01-12-2012, 04:58 AM

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Dodging gunfire at a rapid pace.

Twelve angry and armed men ready to have me killed.

Nursing a recently broken foot as I limp along into light sprints.

Only having got into this mess to save a teenage brat who thinks she's Batman.

And I'm pretty sure I'm on my period.

It's official. This is definitely not how I wanted to go out. But all that leaves me behind as the concrete explodes infront of my feet, giving way to richocheted bullets that nearly tore me apart. I've only managed to glance back once ever since I started running, but it seemed pretty clear that the group that was attacking had split up into two - one to mow me down, the other to take care of the redhead. I would feel sorry for abandoning her to them, but why the hell should I care? She was stupid enough to leap in blind and take on these trigger-happy morons. I'm not her mother or her surrogate, so she can look after herself. I just need to concentrate on keeping myself alive. Barely five minutes into this, and I haven't got the chance to hit anybody. Need to fix that little injustice, don't I?

"There! Down that alley!"

Drat. And here I was hoping they had already wasted their ammo. My ingenuity kicks in and I leap for the nearest fire escape, quickly climbing the metal ladder just as the group of five - maybe six - armed milita-styled mercenaries come rushing into the area at once. I don't know whether it's that part of my mind that always wants me to leap into the line of fire, but I momentarily consider leaping off of this thing to take them all on. Except that there's also a logical side of me, that part of my mind that I rarely ever use, telling me that the "leap into the line of fire" is literal in this case. So I haul ass up the escape, watching and dodging as the bullets create sparks that slice through the metal.

You know, I could swear I hear the sound of one of them getting a text, just as I make it to the ledge of the roof.

"****, get after her! The boss wants her and the girl!"

My eyes widen as I hear them begin to climb the fire escape aswell.

What on Earth could make them want to chase me across half the city? They know I didn't see anything, and I know that no one in this city's stupid enough to go roof jumping for any man. Unless they happen to wear a mask and cape, that is. And furthermore, I'm getting quite curious as to who their boss is. Someone out to make a quick profit on alot of collateral damage? Distraction, maybe, to take away from something bigger?

Gah, enough with the curiosity, Selina. You know the relation between it and cats.

I make it onto the roof, but unfortunately, the injured foot finally gives way just as I'm about to make it partway to the otherside. It's too painful for me to ignore. I find myself falling, tripping and hitting the ground hard on my side, making it even worse. In agony, I clutch my injury and roll, trying to keep momentum going so that I can get back up as quickly as possible. Which doesn't work, as the pain only increases.

"Ahh! ****! ****! ****!"

Had to take on that crazy samurai woman, didn't I?

Of all the obscene times...

"Well, well. Look at that."

My eyes tearing up from the pain, I manage to glance up with grit teeth as they all assemble on the edge of the roof. Each smiling to themselves, like wild animals who've just managed to bag their meal of the day. Loaded weapons at the ready. I can't help but feel like this is really going to be it, as they all begin to slowly circle me. I don't even bother getting up off the ground. It's finished, I'm done for.

"Looks like the kitty cat didn't land on her feet, eh?"

The rest of them chuckle, aiming their weapons at different parts of my body. The most noticeable target being directly at my head.

"Finish her. Boss didn't say anything about getting 'em alive."

I close my eyes and prepare myself for the worst.

Then something really unexpected happens.

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"Keep those trigger fingers handy, fellas!"

The girl - the one that, last I saw, was running for her own life in the opposite direction of me - suddenly appears out of nowhere on a cable and swings directly into the first and second of the men that were going to gun me down. Bullets start flying and I only just manage to roll even farther off to the side, slipping the whip out of my belt and unravelling it for use. Redhead manages to hold her own against them, performing a sweep kick that knocks down three at once and smashing her knee into a fourth's nose.

Okay, seriously. Just who the hell is this kid, and where can I get her moves?

She then swipes a gun away from one of them and bashes the brunt of it between his eyes. Then gives him a smile as he crumples onto the ground, tossing the weapon away behind her. "Uh-uh, that's not very nice. Someone oughta teach you some manners."

Lost in her own gratification, she doesn't see it as one of the ones on the ground retrieves his weapon and aims. I quickly vault forward and lash out with the whip, slapping it hard out of his hand and leaving a considerable mark. He clutches his palm and screams out, leaving me the opening to kick him directly in the face.

The girl looks back and smirks.

"Nicely done."

"Thanks."

I admit that I didn't say that in a very appreciative tone, but I honestly don't know how to feel about this one. She's got moves and she seems to know how to handle them in a fight with armed combatants, but I'm sorry. She doesn't look a day over seventeen. And it certainly doesn't help that she's dressed up in that ridiculous homemade costume.

"Hey, you gonna be alright?"

I look over at her, confused. "What?"

"The ankle. You looked like you were in serious pain."

"Oh, that. Yeah, I'll be... wait a minute! No, I've got something to ask you! Why the hell were you down there in the first place?! You could have been killed!"

Her smile turns into a frown, before that in itself turns into a stern scowl.

"I could ask you the same thing. At least between the two of us, I could've handled my own back there."

I can imagine the shades of red that my cheeks are turning as I angrily look back at her.

"Don't you spin this around on me! I'm not the kid here!"

At first, she's taken aback. Then she places her hands on her hips and growls back.

"Neither am I!"

Yeah, I'm not going to like this girl.

"Wait, hold on. How the hell did you escape so fast? You couldn't have gotten that far from the shop, unless..."

"Oh, she had a little help, in that department."

I spin around, startled by the male voice that comes from the other side of the roof. At first, I honestly believe that despite his comatose state, Wayne managed to pull himself together and return to the night. But no, what I'm greeted with is something far less spectacular.

And it doesn't have a face.

"No hello? Not even a 'How are you on this lovely evening'? I see how it is, attractive cat-lady..."

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"Name's The Question. You can call me Question for short. And I'd like to ask you a few of those."

Andy C.

01-12-2012, 01:04 PM

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PREVIOUSLY

"No....this was not meant to be," Brother Blood says, picking himself up from beneath the rubble. "You should have been asleep for the transference to begin....you should not have awakened!"

Blood hurls a blast of dark red fire towards Rachel, who is still surrounded by swirling black. Whatever kind of energy they're throwing around, the stuff coming from Rachel is clearly stronger--it deflects Brother Blood's attack without her even making a conscious reaction to it.

"I said STOP!" she yells, and the swirling black cloud becomes a wave, rushing forward and obliterating everything in its path. I hit the deck and it passes over me, but Brother Blood is caught in it and swept off his feet.

"Aaaaargh!" he shouts, tumbling head over heels before slamming into the back wall.

I scramble to my feet and make my way towards Rachel. Brother Blood is pinned to the wall, but she keeps pouring that inky black energy at him. It washes over him, and he writhes in agony, his costume torn to shreds, his skin peeling off in patches.

"Please, listen to me," I say, getting as close to Rachel as I can without her swirling black force field knocking me back. "You have to stop; you're going to kill him!"

Not too long ago, I had made the decision to take a man's life. I was obsessed with it, consumed by the need to see that man dead.....and it nearly destroyed me. Had Mister Wayne not taken his mask off when he did, I would have ended his life and ruined my own.

I can't....I won't.....let my only friend do the same thing to herself.

"N--....NOOO! STOP!" Blood screams in pain, flickers of red flame igniting around him before being swallowed up by the blackness as he tries in vain to summon his own powers.

"Please, you've got to listen to me," I plead with her. "This isn't a path you want to go down. Believe me."

I'm not sure if she can even hear me; she seems focused on turning her new powers against her kidnapper. Cautiously, I take another step forward, stepping into the black cloud around her.

"Whatever it is he said you are, it doesn't matter! You don't have to be that! You can be whatever you choose to be......but you have to choose to let go...."

I step through the cloud, and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Rachel....please.....let go."

Finally, she turns her eyes to me, and blinks. Just like that, the black cloud of energy around her dissipates, and the tattered Brother Blood falls to the floor in a heap. She shakes her head like she's snapping out of a daydream, then stares at me, confused.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Brother Blood pulling himself to his feet.

"This is not over," he snarls. "You will be mine, daughter of Trigon. And as for you, boy....I will make sure you watch our union just before you die."

He raises his hands, and I'm fast on the draw with a net-launcher. However, before the net reaches him, he vanishes in a flash of red flame. I run to where he was standing, but he's gone. Nothing on the thermal imaging either. He's just....gone.

I turn back to Rachel, but when I approach her, she backs away.

"Get away from me!" she shouts, panicking. "I don't know what's going on, I don't know what they did to me, or how I did that. What's happening to me?!"

"I don't know," I say, trying to keep my voice carefully level. "But it's over now. You just have to come with me and we'll get everything--"

"No, no, I'm not going anywhere with anyone," Rachel says, a growl in her voice. "I just....I just need to be alone."

"Calm down," I say, "you just have to--"

"Leave me ALONE!" she yells, and suddenly the inky black energy erupts from her hands, throwing me back.

"Ngh!" I grunt as I hit the concrete floor. Quickly springing back to my feet, I see Rachel propel herself into the air, the black energy stretching out in front of her and ripping apart the roof of the old cathedral.

Stone and metal rains down all around me as I pull out a grapnel gun and fire it upwards. The state that she's in, she's a danger to herself and everyone else in the city.

The line goes taut and pulls me out into the Gotham night as the cathedral collapses upon itself, sending a huge cloud of dust into the sky. Rachel flies through the air, still in a panic, probably not helped by the fact that she's suddenly discovered she can fly and doesn't know how to control it yet. I spread out the folds of my cape and dive off of the rooftop, the cape's memory-cloth going rigid and forming a glider wing as I fall. Pulling up sharply, I follow after my friend through the city streets.

"Come back!" I call after her. "You don't know what you're doing!"

Granted, I don't know what she's doing either, but I'd like to think I could figure out a way to help somehow.

"Get away!" she shouts back, hurling bolts of black towards me, shattering windows and concrete as they burst against the buildings around us. "Don't make me hurt you!"

As I start to lose altitude, I realize that I'm not going to catch up with her simply by gliding; I've got to be able to propel myself as well, or she's going to get away.

I take one hand away from the glider-cape and go for a loaded grapnel gun on my utility belt. I aim for the roof of a nearby building and fire. The shot goes a little wide, hitting the air conditioning unit on the building rather than the ledge, but it will work. I activate the grapnel's winch, zipping me up the line with an alarming speed. As I reach the end of the line, I let go and soar high over the building, giving myself the boost I need to keep up with Rachel.

"You're going to hurt somebody!" I shout again, the wind drowning out most of my voice. "Just calm down, and--"

*BLAM!*

A bright green bolt of energy whizzes past me, clipping Rachel in the shoulder. She spins downward, tumbling out of the sky and landing on the roof of an apartment complex.

I spread out the glider wing to catch more air, slowing my flight so I can land on the same rooftop. I run towards Rachel, but another bolt of energy impacts in front of me.

I look up and see a strangely familiar face.

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/starfire.jpg

"I do not wish to harm either of you....but I am putting a stop to this destruction now!"

....and just when I thought the situation couldn't get more complicated.

I'm getting extremely tired of running around the city tonight. I'm getting extremely tired of being completely in over my head, trying to stop one thing I don't understand from happening, only to be interrupted by something else I don't understand.

Mostly, though, I'm just getting extremely tired. Between chasing Brother Blood's cult across town, getting my strength sapped from me by what I really hate to call a "magic" energy blast before actually fighting Blood, and then chasing Rachel even further across town in her panicked flight, I'm amazed I'm still standing.

And I still have to keep my only friend and a stunningly beautiful energy-slinging vigilante from blowing each other to pieces.

"Why can't you leave me alone?!" Rachel snarls, flailing her arm towards Starfire. In response, the inky black energy surrounding her slings forward in a whiplash motion.

"You are causing needless destruction and putting people in danger," Starfire says, flitting through the air as if she were swimming through it, and blasting Rachel's attack apart with energy bolts of her own. "I must restrain you so you do not endanger this city!"

"I'm just trying to get out of here!" Rachel says, the energy around her contracting into a bubble that deflects the incoming counterattack from her redheaded opponent. "Everyone I've met tonight has tried to kidnap or kill me, and I just want to go home!"

Consumed by her fear and her anger, Rachel turns the black bubble into a wall and hurls it towards Starfire. She blasts through it, however, and dives towards her like a missile.

It's now or never, Grayson; you've got to put a stop to this.

Summoning up the last strength I've got in my reserves, I charge into the fray, diving between the two girls, pulling a pair of bolas from my utility belt and flinging one at each of them. Raven's energy field blinks out like a soap bubble being popped as the cables bind her arms to her waist, and Starfire tumbles to the rooftop when the constraint wraps around her.

I hit the deck in a forward roll, stopping flat on my back, gasping for breath.

"Okay...." I say between breaths. "Now then.....can we all please....just....calm down....for a second?"

Both of the girls glare at me as I pull myself to my feet.

"If you don't let me go, I swear...."

"I demand you release me. I do not wish to cause harm, but--"

"Nobody here.....wants to hurt anybody, right?" I say, holding my hands up in a surrendering gesture. Both of them nod. "So.....why the hell are we fighting?"

When neither of them gives an answer, I continue.

"What we've got here," I say, finally catching my breath, "is a failure to communicate. I'm going to let you both go, but only if you can both give me your word that you won't attack each other again. Just....be cool, okay?"

Both of them give me an annoyed look, as if to say "she started it," then after a few moments, agree.

"Fine," Rachel spits.

"I will not attack, so long as she does not attack first," Starfire says warily.

"Okay then....good. Great. Cool," I say, walking over to Rachel first. She bristles when I put my arms around her waist, to get to the tangle where the bola tied itself up, pulling her closer so I can look over her shoulder to see what I'm doing.

"Do you mind?" Rachel growls.

As I untangle the cables, I realize that I could have just walked behind her and untied it that way without the enormous invasion of personal space, and my face goes hot with embarrassment. I back away, clearing my throat, then step behind Rachel and finish untying her that way.

I can't even make eye contact as I step away from her, my face turning about as red as my costume, and walk over to Starfire.

"This is very uncomfortable," she states with an almost robotic matter-of-factness.

"You're telling me," I say, a thin layer of sweat beading on my forehead as I try with all of my might to keep focusing just on the cables, and not on.....everything else. On the smell of jasmine in her flowing red hair. On how soft her tan skin is. On the absolute perfect curves of her bare midriff, or her long toned legs. On the fact that she is, without question, the single most beautiful creature I've ever seen--with the possible exception of Batgirl-- and that I'm just inches away from her.

Needless to say, untying the bola takes a little longer than I wanted, what with all of the.....distractions.

"Thank you very much," she says, her voice a gentle lilting now that the fighting has stopped.

"Yeah, um, no problem," I say, before looking back at Rachel. "I, ummm, I think some introductions are in order. Starfire, this is Ra--.....Raven. Raven, this is Starfire."

Both of them suddenly put their guards back up as soon as I mention their names.

"I wish for you to explain yourself," says Starfire, her eyes glowing bright green. "How do you know my name?"

"We teamed up a few months ago, remember?" I say, confused. "In Chinatown, you and I busted up those gun-runners working for Richard Dragon's Triads. You remember, right?"

She raises an eyebrow.

"That is not possible," she says. "I only arrived here a few days ago."

Now I'm even more confused.

"Wait, what? That's....she looked exactly like you, same powers and everything!"

Starfire gasps.

"My sister! You saw her?"

"I, um....I guess....."

Oh, my God......there's two of her?

"Then she is on this world after all," she says, her voice a mix of both satisfaction and concern, that feeling of being right about something bad. "I pursued this girl because I thought it might have been her, but.....if she truly is here.....I am sorry, but our relationship is....complicated...."

"And what about me?" Raven says, her outrage near the point of boiling over again. "How do you know my name? Nobody knows that name!"

"Oh. Um. Right," I stammer. "I guess I should introduce myself."

It's a bad idea to say my real name out loud in public, but Rachel should know my new identity--after all, she came up with the name.