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Old 09-10-2008, 12:45 PM   #1
BnKRPG
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The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII


Welcome to the World of Heroes DC RPG Season VII

In the wake of a devastating attack on the entire superhero community, headed by the menace of the second coming of The Dark Alliance, legends have fallen.

Cyborg, the mentor to the Teen Titans, destroyed in his prime. Bulletman and Ma Hunkel, two pivotal members and friends of The Justice Society, robbed of their place on Earth.

Supergirl, the last daughter of Krypton and leader of The Teen Titans, slain in combat just before her life could truly begin. Ted Kord, The Blue Beetle, and one of the pioneers for many to follow, sacrificing himself for the good of mankind.

And perhaps the most shocking of all... The Dark Knight Detective himself, Bruce Wayne, better known to the world he helped protect as The Batman.

Even with vengeance sought and battles won, the lives of some of the world's greatest superheroes have been changed forever. And now, one year later, they must put aside their grief and rejoin the neverending battle.

But with even deadlier retalliation and more brutal heroes spurn out of the woodwork, can truth and justice prevail again?

Even with many heroes in active duty, can those the most deeply affected by the tragedies ever truly cope?

Rest in peace, those who've fallen. The battle has just begun.


This RPG is based off of post-Crisis on Infinite Earths and pre-Identity/Infinite Crisis.


If you want to take part in this, just fill in the application at the bottom of this post and we'll put your name and character on the first post here. First come, first serve. Two characters are now allowed.






GAMEMASTERSRULES
  • You can choose to be any superhero or supervillain in the DC Universe, as long as they:
Are to be established on Earth, as in, if Lobo is to be involved, he has to reside in a DCU Earth city...

Are NOT deities, gods, or people such as Shazam the Wizard. People like Superman and Captain Marvel are okay, though...


Are true to the personality and abilities of the character, such as NO Pre-Crisis Superman, no moving planets, sneezing away the Milky Way, no amnesia kiss... EVERYTHING is set POST-Crisis, and Post-Zero Hour, in the current continuity of the character you are/wish to play/playing.
  • Don't do anything RANDOM like chopping off board user's heads or what not, unless your a villain chopping off inanimate victims heads, then whatever, go with it, as long as it's not technically RANDOM.
    Don't kill people without reason.
    Don't randomly kill NPC's.
  • You know your weaknesses and strengths, what you can do or can't. Black Canary will lose against Superman one on one, but may be able to use her allies to help her out or she can run away. (HA! Yeah ri-ght)
  • Don’t kill a PC unless you have a plan to bring them back.
    Don’t kill your character when you quit the RPG, this rob's a person from playing that character.
  • If there is a problem between you and another player,
    or if you have question's please talk to one of the Gamemasters The list of Game masters is at the top of this post.
  • There should be MINIMAL cussing and swearing in posts.
    There will be NO By-passing the censors. This is a Hype rule, and NO exceptions will be made for the RPG.
  • No obscene topics!

What to do in the RPG-
  • Act like your character; ASSUME their traits and personality...
  • You can form super villain gang’s superhero teams, alliances, the works.
  • There can be a number of stories (or arcs) going on at once, using different people.
  • There are endless places to go and endless things to do: ENDLESS possibilities so get creative...
People who disobey these rules, some more major than the others, will get BOOTED by the GM. If need be a Moderator will be called in.




For more of the ‘rules’ see- RPG Etiquette


FOR AN UPDATED ROSTER, PLEASE SEE THE OUT OF CHARACTER (OOC) THREAD


Last edited by BnKRPG; 03-24-2009 at 07:36 PM.
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Old 09-10-2008, 01:35 PM   #2
Harlekin
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII


“Asimov, hand me that, will you?” Lex Luthor pointed out one of the tools among the dozens of such sitting upon the table to the side of them. The grey-skinned robot contemplated his next move as he studied each of the instruments intensely. They were a variety of shapes and colours, and calculating the odds and the direct line from Luthor’s fingertip to the items on the table, Asimov came to the conclusion that taking the welding tool was the statistically favourable option.

Lex, who was dressed in a lab coat that covered his more exotic green-purple ‘supercriminal’ outfit, and wearing goggles, smiled at his artificial companion as he received the implement. The robot, in turn, smiled back. The master criminal took the soldering iron but before he could do anything, the cell phone in his lab coat started vibrating.

“Finish up, will you?” Lex asked Asimov as he handed him the welding tool. The robot gladly accepted this task and set to work, desiring to make his creator proud of him.

Luthor studied the display of his cell phone and then flipped it open, putting it to his ear.

“Talk.”

Only a few miles away from Luthor’s headquarters, Mercy Graves, Lex Luthor’s other fateful assistant, looked upon a crowd of protestors. They wore black bands around their upper arms with upon it the Superman logo, a large red circle and stripe across it. One man walked – or rather, stumbled – to the podium and took a moment of silence before addressing the crowd.

“My name is Joe Meach,” the man spoke. His voice was hoarse and strained. His eyes were red and his cheeks were sunk in. With one hand he held onto the podium to keep his balance. In fact, he was missing his right arm and a prosthetic replaced his right leg.

“Ten years ago,” Meach started, but he immediately went into a coughing fit. “Ten years ago, I fell from that building.”
He pointed to the building across from the rally.
“Superman was fighting Metallo right here on this spot. All I was doing was trying to make a living. I was a professional diver before this,” Meach’s words were laced with venom, “and I was going to the best damn diver you’d ever see too. I was going to jump off that building and into a water tank below. Foolproof. What happened?”

The protestors followed the man’s every word.

Superman happened.”

Meach again pointed to the building.

“Metallo had him on the ropes, on his knees with that Kryptonite heart of his. Superman went for a last ditch attempt, knocked him straight into that building. Sent me careening off it. Of course, Supes was too weak to do anything. I fell to the side of the water tank. Broke almost every bone in my body. They had to amputate my arm almost immediately when I arrived at the hospital. My leg followed six months later.”

Meach raised his fist, his only fist.

“I spent almost a year in that hospital. The next day, Superman flew by my window. That reporter, Lois Lane, had been pushed off the side of the building. Where was he the day before? Three days later, I watched him on the news. He was giving a speech, along with his Justice League buddies. He was okay. Probably forgotten all about Metallo. Forgotten about me. Well, I didn’t forget about him, not for a second.”

He stopped a moment to look at the crowd.

“If it hadn’t been for Superman, I would be standing here in front of you as a healthy man. Metallo would not have been here if it weren’t for that alien!”

The protestors cheered.

“I lived in self-pity for a long time. I was numb, tired. My life was hell. I couldn’t think straight, got to drinking with whatever money I could scrounge. I owe it all to Lex Luthor that I’m not dead right now. He happened upon, begging him for money. Rather than turn me away, he gave me a job. He offered to upgrade my prosthetics, but I turned him down. I’d come to live with myself.”

Meach turned away from the crowd a second before slamming his fist on the podium.

“Gotham City, only a year ago! President Luthor was killed, fighting for us, fighting to save us from another one of Superman’s enemies! By the time he and his so called heroes finally put a stop to the villain they themselves created, Lex Luthor laid down his life for us!”

Some members of the audience started to applaud.

Meach raged. “They are responsible for every life lost in a supervillain attack! They are responsible for Lex Luthor and everyone before him and everyone after him. But we can make a stand! We can show Superman that we don’t need him. We managed damn well without him before. We can do it again! Let us be KRYPTONITE.”

The rest joined in with the clapping.

He held up a sign. It said: ‘If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher.’

“In his final speech to us, the American public, Lex Luthor repeated these famous words that Abraham Lincoln spoke close to two hundred years ago. They still ring true! We will no longer tolerate the interference of these aliens. We will no longer allow our people ‘to die at the hands of monsters from other planets’!” Meach repeated the sentiment from Luthor’s speech.

“Go home, Superman! Go home, Superman!” he finally started to chant.

Soon, the onlookers joined in.

“Hear that, boss?” Mercy asked over the phone with a smile.
“Music to my ears,” Luthor responded, ending the call.

As he put the cell phone back in his pocket, Luthor glanced at his watch.

“Why, I almost would’ve missed it,” the criminal genius exclaimed, still grinning as he reached over to the television set hanging off the lab’s roof. Setting the channel to the news, Luthor sat back and watched as the camera started to close up on a judge in court.

“It is the opinion of this court that Ms. Willis has been properly rehabilitated and is ready to rejoin society,” the man spoke, and the picture cut to the white-skinned, blue-haired supervillainess sitting across from the judge. She smiled broadly and shook her attorney’s hand, who quickly retracted it when he felt an electric shock pass through him. She laughed loudly and Luthor contentedly switched of the television again.

“Finished, Mr. Luthor,” Asimov called. The robot was positively beaming with pride.
“Excellent, Asimov,” Luthor responded as he returned to his work.

This was going to be a good year.

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Old 09-10-2008, 01:39 PM   #3
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII


People wonder why we do it.

Why we dress up and play hero. Lot of people say we do more harm than anything, provoking crazies to come out the woodwork and dress up with us.

They don’t understand.

One life. If your actions can save at least one life, then it’s all worth it.

Star City

"Crap." I mutter under my breath as I leap across across a rooftop on to the fire escape of the building next to it.

The building I’m outside of just so happens to be on fire. I can hear screams from the inside. Fire truck sirens ring in the distance. They won’t be here in time.

"Why is it always fires and drug dealers?" I say to nobody in particular.

"Why can’t I save the cat of two hot, buxom twins who are in to sharing?" I grumble as I break a window and leap inside the inferno.

"HELP!" Someone screams from the other side of the building.

The fire’s weakening the building’s support with each passing second. I’ve got to move now.

I cough and try my best to look through the smoke as I leap over flames and run towards the cry for help.

"Please, mister. Help me!" My eyes fall on a small girl, her skinny face marked with ashes and soot. She’s coughing and curled up in a ball, fire surrounds her.

"Don’t worry," I pull out my bow and grab one of my special arrows, this one has a blue tip.

"I’m here." I say as I pull my bowstring and let it loose.

FAP!

The arrow explodes and covers the fire surrounding the girl with a thick layer of ice.

"Thank you, Mister Freeze."

One of the building’s support beams gives a moan and a sharp crack echoes through the building.

"Alright, sweetie. Time to go." I say as I grab the girl and sling her over my shoulder.

I run as fast as I can over and through the fire. I block out the sound of the building coming down, I try not to focus on the floor shaking as I run, very close to giving way.

Straight ahead of me is a window, my salvation.

The floor sags beneath my feet and I leap towards the window just as the roof comes down.

KRASH!

The girl and I break through the window. We’re on the second story of the apartment, so I move my body so I break the girl’s fall to the pavement below.

WHAM!

I hit the pavement pretty hard, the little girl bounces off my body and lands next to me. She’s shaken, but she’ll be okay.

But me, that’s a different story. I’m pretty sure one of my ribs is broken, it hurts to even breath. My legs don’t hurt that bad, so they shouldn’t be broken. A sprain is probably the worse I’ll expect out of it.

"Becky!" A voice shouts out. A man and a woman runs up and puts the girl in their arms.

"Thank you, Mister Arrow." The man says as they hold the girl tightly.

It hurts for me to even stand, but I get up and manage to tip my cap to the now whole family.

Like I said. One life and it’s all worth it.

My name is Oliver Queen, I spend my nights acting like Robin Hood and call myself Green Arrow.

__________________
"These are the times that try men's souls... Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered; yet we have this consolation with us, that the harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph."
-- Thomas Paine


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Old 09-10-2008, 01:39 PM   #4
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII

"Move it, ye ****in' *****! 'For one o' them speedsters get here", shouted McCulloch to his two partners as the bank alarms began to go off.

"Watch who your callin' a ****, mate", growled Captain Boomerang as he held the razor's edge of one of his name-sake weapons at a guard's throat.

"C'mon, darlin'. I coulda been in'an outta there already", snarled the Mirror Master as he looked nervously over his shoulder.

"Then why didn't you", snapped Magenta through clenched teeth as she finally ripped the bank door off of it's hinges.

"Cause this ain't fer me. This is yer test ta see if yer good enough to be a Rogue", stated McCulloch as he rushed into the bank vault with Boomerang and began to shove the money into a pair of large bags.

"Relax", frowned Magenta, "we still have enough time to-"

"Make it back to Iron Heights for evening chow? Couldn't agree more."

The three villains turned towards the young voice as a pair of teenagers, dressed in the colors of the Kid Flash, entered the bank. Only instead of a lightning bolt across their chest, there was a swirling tornado.

"It's the Twins!"

The male teen, the one who spoke wore a cocky smile. But his female partner's eyes narrowed in determination as she went after Magenta.

"C'mon, Digger", McCulloch said as he grabbed Boomerang by the shoulder and melted into the bank's floor.
"Time ta get the **** outta Dodge."

"You bastards", screamed Magenta as she watched her "partners" escape without her.
But before she could say or do anything else, she was knocked unconscious by the streaking blur of the female Twin.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it sis", smiled the boy as he moved next to his sister standing over the fallen form of Magenta.

"No, but you should've stopped the Mirror Master and Boomerang from escaping instead of posturing like a tool", she shot back.
"I swear, Barry", she said with a shake of her head.
"You're worse than Bart."

"And how would you know that", came a voice from the bank's entrance.
"You were still a baby."

Both twins turned to see the scarlet figure of the Flash standing before them, a stern look on his face.

"I told you two to wait for me."

"Sorry, pops", frowned Barry as he lowered his head.

"Yeah, I'm sorry daddy."

"Come on you two", Wally sighed.
"Let's get back home. You're mom's making meatloaf tonight."

"All right, meatloaf", Barry smiled as he licked his lips with a slurping sound while sticking his face right up near his sister, Iris'.
"Down, boy", she said with a disgusted look as she shoved him away.

"All right, knock it off", Wally ordered as he seperated them.
"Now, let's go."

"And...try to keep up", he finished with a smirk before disappearing.

And then, in a Flash, they were gone...

__________________
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Old 09-10-2008, 01:57 PM   #5
Keyser Soze
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII

Sector 2814
Earth

Metropolis


Evil has escaped my sight.

I should have been here. My planet faced total destruction, my friends were being tortured and killed by monsters and psychopaths. Earth’s heroes needed to band together, to unify, one proud, fearless force to stand against the onslaught of the Dark Alliance, and where was I? Away.

We still won in the end, of course. The guys managed just fine without me, just like they’ve had to do… in the past. But not without some losses along the way. And our biggest defeat happened right here. With everyone converged at the Hall of Justice, in a battle with the Dark Alliance, that sick whackjob The Joker let loose his laughing gas on an unprotected Metropolis. Hundreds died. It could have been more. That’s what Ollie and Kyle and the others keep on telling me. It could have been more. But 900 deaths is still 900 deaths. People who died because those few who could fight for them were stretched too thin, because there just wasn’t enough of us.

Clark’s such a nice, unassuming guy – I’ve always said he’s more human than any of us. He smiles at me, puts that big hand on my shoulder and says that we need to do what Metropolis as a whole is doing: look forward. It’s a new beginning, and Metropolis is doing what it always does – coming together in a time of adversity. “That’s why it’s the greatest city in the world,” he laughs, before suggesting Carol and I should go out for dinner with him and Lois. But I see it in his eyes, the pain, the regret, the anger, the stuff he’d never dream of talking about, especially not to me of all people. I know what he’s going through, all to well.

And so now, I do what I’m sure Clark has done on many a quiet, restless night since this battle for our planet’s existence came to an end. I’m hovering high above the Metropolis skyline, looking down… thinking. I’ve thought about it a lot, just how easy it would have been for me to save all those people, if I’d been here. My ring could have had me at Metropolis in seconds, and dispersed the gas skywards, or collected it all inside an air-tight ball of solid-light energy. Or I could have lifted whole scores of people up into the air, taken them far away from central Metropolis, dropped them off out in a field in Smallville or wherever. But I couldn’t do any of that because I wasn’t here.

After my extended tenure on Oa, for all those months out in the edge of space, what kept me going was the thought of home. Earth. As I soared towards it, a little under a year ago, it seemed more beautiful than ever, from up in space. I’d been away, on a long journey, but I was home at last. I was looking to celebrate. But I soon found out exactly how much I’d missed.

My name is Hal Jordan. I’m an officer in the Green Lantern Corps. Space Sector 2814. And I have a lot to answer for.



Gotham City

My ring carries me across city borders at a speed far greater than even the most advanced of Earth’s jets (and believe me, I’ve piloted a few) could hope to match. In the blink of an eye, I’m touching down in Gotham Heights, just beyond the grounds of Wayne Manor. The mansion looms with a quietly commanding authority on the horizon. But the place feels empty now, lifeless. Dick and Tim still make sure the place is kept in good order, from what I understand, but with Alfred’s passing a few years ago, and now what happened last year, the building’s beating heart has been ripped out. Now it’s just bricks and mortar.

I decide to walk the rest of the way; it’s not far from here. Over the five minute walk, I take in the quiet, picturesque scenery around me, all green grass and rolling hills. A marked contrast from the inner city, to say the least. And then I arrive at my destination: Gotham Cemetery. Generations of Waynes call this their final resting place. I nod respectfully as I pass the headstones of Thomas and Martha Wayne, before stopping at a grave I never thought I’d live to see.

Here lies Bruce Wayne: Gotham’s White Knight



It’s no secret that Bruce and I never got along. Even at the best of times, he thought I was reckless and arrogant, and more recently, he refused to believe that I wasn’t responsible for my crimes as Parallax in the wake of my…resurrection, and made it quite clear that he was just waiting for me to snap again and reveal my true colors. As for me, I thought he was full of himself, that he was his own biggest fan. I hated that he never really put his full faith and trust in any of us, that we were always kept at arm’s length. But in truth, I think that the real reason for our mutual dislike was that we were so damn similar. A couple of normal men standing side-by-side with superhumans. We weren’t gifted with immense powers, like some of our JLA teammates, and had to rely on our own resourcefulness. And a few gadgets too, of course.

But more than that, something deeper. Bruce’s life was defined by seeing his parents die before his eyes, when he was just a child. I know how that feels, I know what it’s like to have your greatest fear come true. When that happens, it’s pretty easy to say you don’t fear anything. My father was my idol, the most important person in the world to me. And I watched him die. It’s what set me on the path to becoming the man I am today. Maybe that’s our greatest link of all: two men defined by our fathers.

And perhaps this has been playing in the back of my mind, now, the fact that Bruce and I could have been friends, should have been friends. Because I always hoped that I could prove him wrong, and earn his trust and respect. But that won’t happen now. I have The Joker to thank for that, too. I missed the funeral, the real one, for Batman. I hear they had a service for Bruce Wayne too, claiming that he was killed in Brainiac’s assault on Gotham, and that no body had been found. The life of Bruce Wayne, the philanthropist, was celebrated, and deservedly so. But Batman was mourned in private by the superhero community.

It is thanks to him that every single being on this planet is alive today. If it weren’t for him, The Joker would have destroyed the sun. But Batman gets no public service, no commemorative statue in Finger Memorial Park. Hell, a lot of people don’t even know for sure if he’s dead, with all these copycats running around. But maybe Bruce would have approved of that. He was never like the rest of us, soaring through the skies and the streets in our brightly colored outfits, cheered by the civilians below. He was something else, something of the shadows. A Dark Knight indeed.

“Goodbye, Bruce. You can rest now.”



Coast City
Home


The City Without Fear. That’s what they’re calling it now.

Coast City. The familiar skyline welcomes me as I slow my flight speed down. Superman calls Metropolis the greatest city in the world. He can have it. Coast City will always be number one in my books. I make a soft landing on my balcony, up on the top floor of the 22 Sea View apartment building. With a mere thought, the molecules of my form-fitting Green Lantern uniform shift into my decidedly roomier civilian attire, which as always includes my father’s beaten-down brown bomber jacket. The mask on my face fizzles into green energy and dissipates. And now I’m Hal Jordan, humble test pilot for Ferris Air.

Okay, maybe not so humble…

I lean on the ledge, and look out at the city I call home. Not too long ago, this city was one big ghost town. People were too scared to come back here after… what happened. The whole city, wiped out by the alien tyrant Mongul and the cyborg vermin known as Hank Henshaw. Friends, co-workers, life as I knew it, all gone in a murderous flash. It drove me to the edge of madness, and for the first time since I watched my father die, I allowed fear to consume me. And that’s how Parallax – fear incarnate – got its claws into me, and made me its puppet.

My actions disgraced the memory of the home I had lost. I became a bitter enemy to the people I had once called friends. And then something strange happened. I died. And then I came back to life, purged of Parallax and whole once more. And somehow, the infrastructure of Coast City was brought back too. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but what matters is that it did. Now I have a second chance, and want to give Coast City the same thing. I put a lot of effort into helping rebuild the city, with help of course. It’s useful having a friend who’s an architect. It took a while, at first it seemed like I was patrolling an empty city, but in time people started to overcome their great fear, and come back to Coast City.

There’s still a long way to go: a few thousand in a city that originally held north of 7 million. But the people who are here believe in this city. And they believe in me. It means a lot to me that, even after all I did, when I died, they put up a statue in honor of me. It’s still there today. I didn’t deserve it, after what I did I’m not worthy of that. But I want to make myself worthy of it, by showing these people that their faith is not misplaced. I’ve been away long enough. This is my sector, and Coast City is at its heart. It represents why what I do is so important.

I head inside, draping my bomber jacket up on the coat hook. I walk through into the bedroom, and quietly sit down on the edge of the bed. Don’t want to wake up Carol. Who’d ever have guessed it? Hal Jordan: married man. I don’t know what surprises me more, the fact that I’m married, or the fact that I’m absolutely, without-a-doubt, happily married. There were plenty of others, over the years, but Carol…she was always the one. Deep down, I always knew it, we both did. I was just too busy screwing around and running at the first sign of commitment to see it. But I see it now. Maybe I’ve grown up, at last. Maybe I’m getting old. I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if the ring had never found its way to me. I’ve always been one to seek thrills – whether it’s with planes or with women – and having an atom bomb strapped to my ring finger surely served to feed the habit.

But it’s about more than that, always has been. People assume having the power to create just about anything your imagination and willpower can permit is a blessing. But that kind of power… it can change you. Look at what happened to Sinestro. Look at what happened to me. They think it takes willpower to control the ring. That’s the easy part. Try having all that power, and doing the right thing, putting what you want aside to be a part of something far greater than yourself, and your world. That takes willpower.

But damn…it’s worth it. Even after all the pain, all the loss. Even after dying. If I could go back all those years, and tell Abin Sur “no thanks”? No way. I’d take that ring, and do it all over again. This me. This is who I am, who I always will be.

Hal Jordan.
Green Lantern.

In brightest day, in blackest night.


__________________
Check out my comic, THE STANDARD!

And check out my new comic, AND THEN EMILY WAS GONE!

And listen to my slick Scottish voice on The Off-Panel Podcast!

Last edited by Keyser Soze; 04-07-2009 at 01:19 PM.
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Old 09-10-2008, 02:12 PM   #6
Byrd Man
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII


New York City
One Year Ago

"So that’s it?" Michelle asks.

I nod silently as I finish packing up the last few boxes in my loft.

"Turn in your badge?"

"First thing this morning. The Captain didn’t look too pleased, but he said he understood."

"What did you tell him?"

"The truth. I’m moving back home to help my family cope with the lose of our father."

"But you neglected to mention the part about the capes and bats?"

"Well, he didn’t ask."

I put my last remaining DVDs into a cardboard box.

"Wait a minute." Michelle says as she reaches down and picks a DVD out of the box.

"Sisterhood of The Travelling Pants?" She says as she smiles and arches her eyebrow.

"……..It’s a pretty good movie."

"You are so gay now."

She places the DVD back and looks around at the empty apartment.

"It’s not going to be the same without you, Dick."

"You’ll do fine. I’m sure of it."

"Oh, I know that. I passed my detective’s exam. Captain says they’re assigning me to the 23rd precinct’s Burglary Division."

"Well, good for you."

She smiles and walks over to me. Our eyes meet for a second, she reaches up and kisses me on the cheek.

"Stay safe in Gotham, Dick."

"I can’t make any promises."


Gotham City
Now




God I hate these biker punks.

Wanna-be Motocrossers who took too many falls. The past few months they’ve been hitting warehouses and trucks all along the waterfront.

They’re damn good riders, it obviously takes some skill to ride a bike ten stories above the pavement.

My bike roars over the gap between buildings as I scramble to catch up to them.


Ten Months Ago

"How much longer do you think it’ll take?" Babs says as she scrambles eggs. I sit at the kitchen table inside the clock tower.

"Why? You don’t like me living here?" I say with a smile on my face. My eyes wander to the window, the sun is just starting to go down over the horizon.

"It’s not that, I love you here. The only thing I don’t like is how you thrash in your sleep."

"Says the lady whose farts sound like a machine gun as soon as she nods off."

"I'll have you know each and every one of my poots are lovely. Anyway."
She hands me a plate of eggs and sits down across the table next to me.

"I know they’re working on the manor, I just didn’t know when it’ll be done."

"Well." I say as I take a bite of eggs.

"Is weally ward…"

"How about chewing then talking?"

"Yeah….It’s really hard to tell, the way construction goes. They’re telling me it’ll be about four more months."

"Good. Four more months of domestic bliss with the 20-something wonder."

"Right back at ya."

Now

Bratatatatata

I jerk the bike to dodge the submachine gun fire coming from one of the biker punks.

"Come and get us, *******!" He shouts as he fires off.

I pull out one of my escrima sticks and throw it right at the spinning spokes of his bike.

WHAM!

The bike flips end over end and crashes on the rooftop right on top of the punk.

"Gotcha!"

Six Months Ago

"Welcome home, Tim."

Tim and I look around the empty halls of the rebuilt Wayne Manor.

"I had it built as close to the original as I could."

"It’s just not going to be the same place with Bruce or Alfred."

"I know, Kiddo. Come on. I want to show you something."

He follows me to the clock, and follows after as I open it up and go down the staircase to the cave below. He stands a bit in awe at the massive cave, looking just like it used to.

"I managed to find the T-Rex and the giant penny."

"The giant penny? How’d you do that?"

"It’s easy when one of your best friends can search the world three times over in the blink of an eye."

"We’ve got a batmobile, a batwing, and three bikes. I’m working on getting a batboat…." I trail off as I notice Tim looking at the costumes. Next to Jason’s display. I have a new one.

"It was his last suit. I tracked down The Tailor and got him to flawlessly sew the holes and tears. Looks brand new."

He admires the suit with a bit of sadness.

"It's a brave new world we're living in."

"A world without Batman."



Now

I kick one of the punks in the mouth as our bikes leap from roof to roof. He loses control of his bike and slides on the roof’s gravel.

The one remaining punk is three or four rooftops in front of me now. I can’t catch him, and he knows it.

I can’t catch him, but that doesn’t mean he’s home free.

WHAM!

A batarang slaps him in the forehead. He’s unconscious by the time he and his bike crash on the rooftop.

I make it up to his body and stop my bike.

"Thanks." I say to the shadows.

"But that wasn’t necessary."

"Yes it was." A small, almost timid voice says.

Cassandra steps out of the darkness, her arms crossed. Looking like a female version of Bruce.

"You do too much."

"I do not."

"Yes, you do."

"With Bruce gone, we all need to pick up the slack."

"You still put too much on yourself. You are just one man."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phillis."

Cassandra slips back into the shadows as I crank up my bike and speed off.

She thinks I’m doing too much? If anything, I’m not doing enough.
It’s been almost a year since Batman died. In that time, Gotham has turned into a chaotic mess. Once word got out that Batman wasn’t around, every two-bit hustler and con man moved in with big ambitions.
Probably at least ten different factions are fighting for control of Gotham’s underground, not counting the usual rogues who pop up and cause trouble.

I stop the bike and look out over the city from one of the rooftops.
This is what Bruce left me. Nevermind all the money and the big house. This is my trust fund. I have to earn it, one thug at a time.

This was his city. Now it’s my city. For better or for worse, I’ll continue on his fight.

Even if it kills me.

__________________
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-- Thomas Paine


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Old 09-10-2008, 03:42 PM   #7
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BATWOMAN

It's true that many people are willing to talk with the threat of being beaten within an inch of their lives. On the other hand, some people are just stubborn. You'll pound on them for an hour, and all you'll learn is that it's surprisingly easy to break the little bones in your fingers. You might also learn how hard it is to get dried blood stains out - especially in the early hours before daybreak. Neither of these things will ultimately help you get to the root of a problem.

People are much more willing to talk when they think no one is listening. Unfortunately, this is where their paranoia can become something of a nuisance. When looking to scare a target, cowardice is a desirable trait. When you're trying to make them feel secure? Not so much. When trying to eavesdrop, make sure you're in a comfortable position to prepare for what could be a lengthy conversation. Not being to feel your legs can get distracting after some time.

"So," Grigory announces after clearing his throat. It's clear by his tone that the discussion is going to talk a turn from last night's attractive waitress - and the things Grigory did with her - to something more relevant. Grigory continues to look around, but he does not see my dark figure in the shadows. "Have you heard about this week?"

I shift my gaze subtly to Viktor. Nodding, he replies, "I have." Now, Viktor clears his throat. He takes out a silk handkerchief and blows his nose before asking, "Have you?"

Not looking at Viktor, Grigory answers, "I have not." To a passerby, this conversation may seem cryptic and meaningless. However, in a few moments, I will know everything I need. In three days, the Chechen will be holding another underground dogfighting event. Compared to his other crimes, dogfighting may seem trivial. But it's my foot in the door. By starting small, I may be able to slowly bleed out the Chechen's organization.

"The boss has moved it again," Viktor explains, examining his watch casually. I'm picking up on all the tiniest intricacies of their behavior. While they mask it in a forced calmness, both men are clearly showing anxiety. For one, they still haven't looked each other in the eye. For another, Grigory continues to look around suspiciously.

"I had heard," Grigory responds, false indifference flooding his tone. I watch Grigory begin to scratch his shoulder vigorously. If it comes to blows, he's the easier target. I can tell by his very being. I would take out Viktor first, eliminating the more prominent threat. After a deep breath, Grigory inquires curiously, "Do you know where?"

Viktor nods. What feels like an eternity passes before he says anything more. "I do," he replies simply. "This time, it's in--"

In the distance, a police siren wails. It's clearly many, many blocks away, but it gives both men pause. I hold my breath as I anticipate their next move. Some moments pass with only the sound of sirens in the air. As they finally fade, Grigory and Viktor turn to one another.

"It's getting late," Grigory announces. He looks up at the stars. "We should talk again later," he suggests.

"Later, then," Viktor agrees passively. I silently draw a batarang from my belt. Crouching, poised to strike, I wait to see how the situation plays out. Their paranoia has gotten the better of them, and now they won't discuss such precious plans in the open. Following them behind closed doors could be taxing, and I only have three days. Grigory was my only lead. If I can't get the Chechen this time, I must wait again. I grip the cool metal tightly as I calculate the risk of getting physical.

The two men begin to walk in opposite directions, and I remain completely still. The batarang rests between my knuckles. Soon, Viktor is out of sight. I look up, and Grigory is gone, too. I release an aggravated sigh and return my batarang to its proper place on my belt. There will be other opportunities to catch the Chechen in the act. I must not waste months of work on hastiness.

Even when it's unintentional, the GCPD finds ways of hindering my work. They can be useful tools, but they tend to push me two steps back for every step I take forward. Luckily, I have a source - much like he did. I think back to the floodlight that used to remind the people of Gotham what they had to fear.

That thing isn't gone. It's just taken a new form.

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Old 09-10-2008, 08:32 PM   #8
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From the alley below eyes shot up to the rooftops. Then they remember. They remember the fear. They remember looking over their shoulders all the time. They remember not wanting to go out at night. The Batman was suppose to be dead. They were suppose to be free. The dealers threw out their weapons.

"Kill it! It can't be him!" They open fire. Bullets fill the night air. A shadow leaps from the roof. Bullets rain down on the drug dealers below. A few the others don't stop firing. The Batman lands in the center of the group, the dealers don't have a chance. Each blow is a killing blow. Only one survives the onslaught. His gun shaking in his hands.

"No....I heard what happen with the Russians. They said he was alive. They said he kills." A disturbing grin twisted on his face as he holds up a knife.

"Do it boss!" The Robin threw his hands in their air.

"Patience is a virtue, Robin."


"Who the hell are you talking to?" The dealer looked around and didn't see anyone.

"Shut up, punk!"

"Who the hell are you?!"

"I'm Batman." He says as he stabs him. The dealer falls down clutching the blade. At the end of the handle is a piece of cloth with the bat symbol.

"We got them good." The cartoon like Robin put his fist up to face and threw some punches to the air.

"A Batman always needs Robin." Something floated in the air, it looked like a small person. He opens the back of a van parked at the end of the alley. Inside were drugs and money. He shoved the money in a bag and threw the strap around his shoulder.

"Holy Contraband, Batman!" The Robin yells in delight.

"Robin. To keep him sane and level." The strange short person flew around his head and hovered around the van door. "The good doctor had gotten into your head and rearranged a few wires, huh Brucey?" Police sirens could be heard. He shot out his grappling gun and went back into the night. He was Batman and he was going to take his city back.

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Old 09-11-2008, 01:45 AM   #9
Andy C.
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What's really difficult about runaway trains is that it's never really the same thing twice.

This one in particular is the 3:15 on the E line to Glenmorgan Square. Or at least it used to be, until the driver suddenly collapsed, and the whole thing became one big ballistic missile speeding through the heart of downtown. It's only a matter of time before it goes flying off of the elevated rails, or plows through a station, or hits another train. Any one of those outcomes would kill most of the 150 people on board, and probably dozens of others around them.

Fortunately, none of them are going to happen. Not while I'm here.

I come up alongside the train, which is now going almost a hundred miles per hour. That's far too fast for me to just push against it--stopping it at that speed would cause the cars to jackknife into each other. An X-ray scan of the front car shows that the control panel's been wrecked, too. Someone clearly wanted to cause this situation.

I'll have to play detective later--right now, those people inside are in trouble.

I hang back, letting the train pass me by for a moment, then using my heat vision to sever the third rail, cutting power from the train. Unfortunately, that'll also knock out power on most of the line, but it was a clean cut--I'll come back and solder it back together when this is done.

The train's only running on momentum now, but there's still an awful lot of it. Time to start putting on the brakes.

Flying back to the front, I begin to press against it. Too much force will collapse the train on itself, but too little won't make any difference. I start off relatively light, about the same amount of force as applying the brakes would have. The cars shudder and jolt the passengers around, but there's not much past that.

Unfortunately, I'm running out of time. We're coming dangerously close to a sharp turn in the track. Even slowing down, the train won't make it.

"Everyone hold on!"

Like I even have to say it.

I start pushing back more and more, until we're at a safe enough speed to stop...then I put my feet down.



More powerful than a locomotive.

Two of the cars towards the back come off the rails a little, but not enough to slam into each other or pull the rest of the train off. I straighten them both out, then pry open the doors.

"Is everyone okay?"

The relieved looks on most of the people's faces answers my question. I scan the passengers one car at a time--a few jammed wrists, some minor whiplash, but nothing particularly serious...except for the driver in the front car.

He's been dead for nearly three minutes.

In one hand he's got a pry bar, apparently what he used to smash up the control panel. He doesn't have any fatal wounds, but looking into his circulatory system shows his bloodstream was full of cyanide. And spray-painted crudely on one wall:

GO HOME, SUPERMAN.

The same thing those people were chanting at the KRYPTONITE rally earlier today. Either they were sending some sort of message, or the man was fanatic enough to their cause that he took his own life to get my attention. Either way, this can only lead to trouble.

I stick around for a few more minutes, giving my report to the police, and then take off. I find who I'm looking for less than a minute later.

*****

"Mr. Meach?"

The bitter amputee, now sitting alone in his apartment, spits out his beer in surprise.

"Wh---what do you want, you stinking alien?!"

"Two things. First, I just stopped a train-wreck that would have killed over a hundred people. The man who caused it was a member of your group. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"Wha--no! I don't know what you're talking about! B-but if he's making a stand against you, then I'm glad for him!"

He was quick about regaining his composure, but he's no Lex Luthor. Behind the defiant face he's making, I can see it in his eyes--he's absolutely terrified. And that's what makes me even more uncomfortable. He blames me and he resents me, but even under all that pain and hate, he's afraid of me.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you, I really am. But if your organization really wants to prove that you don't need me, putting innocent people in danger isn't the way to do it. Which is what brings me to my second point: you're going to get what you want."

"What do you mean by--"

But before he can finish his sentence, I'm already out the window.

It's not an easy decision to make. If I stay, the group might get more radical, more violent, in their campaign against me. If I go, God knows what might happen. I'd like to say that I'm not here to be liked, but I'm not Bruce. If I'm going to be able to do my job and do it right, it has to be because people want me to. Otherwise, I'm just the alien overlord that KRYPTONITE thinks I am.

Before I go anywhere else, though, I'm heading back to Smallville. I need to tell Ma and Pa goodbye.

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Old 09-11-2008, 09:19 AM   #10
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Ra's al Ghul: Episode One.

“It’s all about sanctity, Daniel, sanctity!”

The older man, the Demon head, was seated on a high chair that seemed to stretch two or three metres into the air. Down below him, on all fours like a dog and stationary as if leashed, a younger man panted heavily in order to restore some of the breath driven out of him by the perched elder. The lower part of Daniel’s skin was pink after several impactful blows from the elder’s whip, which currently lay – restful in waiting – to the side of his head. It was conveniently placed within his eye line, driving him on to work harder and harder. The young man looked down to his chest, his heart thudding against his rib cage in some futile attempt to three itself from such strenuous torture. His biceps were pulsing, red and tender with the pain of such rapid growth.

“A nation doesn’t just run itself, my friend. Sure, figureheads of false authority and dominative forces are put into place to restore the sanctity. And sure, they do their best, but they’re doted on for too long and we are the helping hand when they need it most. We are the thankless ones... those who do what they are told and never get a chance to bask in the glory of the world. We are the magician who waits beneath the stage when the audience applauds. We are faceless and nameless, and the world will never have chance to thank us, just as we will never have chance to be thanked. But that’s not important...”

A crack of the whip. A moan of pain. Daniel continued with his push-ups. The first five are always the hardest... and then you get into a kind of rhythm. It’s still painful, and the monotonous throbbing seems like it’s never going to end, but you feel as if the rhythm is some sort of soothing influence over the pain. Eventually, it all comes to a climax, and the pain becomes too much for even the strongest man to handle. You heave. You throw up. It feels oddly satisfactory... as if the demons that have gathered and gathered were expelled in a concoction of phlegm and vomit.

“What is important is that we do what we do. And why? Because if we don’t, no one will. The world doesn’t know what is good for it, and the people that they place as their figureheads of democracy will never be able to do what we do. The League of Shadows are not a terrorist organization. We are not a vigilante organization. We are freedom fighters in the most literal sense of the word.”

Daniel seized up and collapsed to the ground. He’d counted four hundred and thirty six push-ups over the past hour and a half. Ra’s seemed peaceful... almost content with that level of commitment. He wasn’t to be pushed anymore. He had given his pound of flesh for the day.

“And that is why we leave tomorrow. You and I, and three other shadows that I shall choose tomorrow. The three are unimportant, and shall remain faceless to you too. They will be numbers. Yours will be one. They answer to you, and you answer to me. That’s the national progression of things, and you just remember that.”

Ra’s stepped down from his seat. His limberness seemed to betray his aged looks. He had an air of authority about him that wasn’t to be questioned, and nobody ever did. He seemed invincible... as if death himself would cower in fear after a few interludes of his deep yet mellifluous talking tone. Things seemed more imposing when he was around... inanimate objects seemed to grow and walls seemed to close in. He seemed to change the weather, and skies darkened when he was underneath them. He was Ra’s al Ghul, and he was the Demon Head.

“Where are we going?” Daniel asked. His voice weak and his words strangely delivered.

Ra’s put his hand on Daniel’s shoulder, foreboding him to rise to his feet. The younger man obliged, revealing a scar that tracked down from his forehead, through his eye, down across his torso and into his trousers. His presence was merely physical, but it was undeniable.

“Gotham. Anarchy has taken hold. Things will get worse before they get better.”


Last edited by Piles; 09-11-2008 at 06:26 PM.
 
Old 09-11-2008, 09:49 AM   #11
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Ra's al Ghul: Episode Two.

“This is not a game! This is not an experiment!”

Ra’s al Ghul was decidedly unimpressed. He’d garrisoned his Shadows, who lined up on the opposite side of the room from him. They were solemnly quiet, and they exuded an air of mystery and terror that Ra’s both appreciated and expected. All of them but one. Number four. He was standing on the left of the line-up; overweight and breathing heavily. His outfit was stretched across his bulging abdomen, and his nose was fighting the fabric that covered it to intake some much needed air. Ra’s moved over to him, a scowl on his face and anger within his body. With one vicious blow, he slapped him across the face with the back of his hand, and Number Four was down to one knew with his digits cradling and caressing his bruised cheek.

“Through your mouth, boy! Breath through your mouth!”

Number Four made his way back to his feet, and he begun to breath – as requested by Ra’s – through his mouth. He was silent again, but his fat bulge was slowly moving in and out and in and out and in and out with no eloquence or elegance to speak of. How could this man expect to go unnoticed into the very heart of the criminal world? How could he even hope to make it two steps into Gotham without drawing attention to his uncouth, overweight self? It was unfeasible. Unthinkable. This man was a liability... the hole in the bottom of their otherwise perfectly sound plan. He would be the downfall of the whole operation.

“How much do you weigh?” Ra’s asked. Number four stopped breathing immediately and dragged his bulging stomach as far back into himself as he could. But it was no use, he was still noticeably twenty pounds heavier – when breathing in – than the rest of the garrisoned crew. Ra’s repeated, but a few decibels louder.

“248 pounds, sir.”

“248 pounds? You’re out.”

“What?!”

“You’re out. Leave. Before I remove you.”

“Now hang on just a second--”

A fist flew into Number Four’s face, rocking him back into the concrete wall behind him. His arms spasmed out and knocked random artefacts off the shelves that surrounded him. They hit the ground with a clatter, and Number Four’s vision was blurred. He shook his head violently, attempting to garner some of the clarity back, and when he did his attacker become evident. Not Ra’s, but the Number One.

“Remove him. I will not have such dissent amongst my ranks,” Ra’s begun, turning around to face the glass wall facing westward. Gotham stretch before him, a full thirty five stories below his feet. The window crashed through, and Number Four fell out of it. Ra’s didn’t flinch. A rope was attached around his neck, and the Number One held the other end of it, his intense strength allowing him to hold his fallen friend aloft.

Below him, Number Four battled for his life, scratching desperately at the rope, blood raining down from his face and making his digits slip. If he scratched through it, he would fall the thirty stories to certain death. If he didn’t, he would be strangled violently to his demise. With one last output of effort, he raised his hands to his mouth, and bit his two index fingers clean from them. Scratching became impossible with his weaker fingers, and eventually they fell down to his sides, limp and lifeless. His corpse was pulled back up into the room, and Ra’s moved over to inspect. He lifted his forearms up for the room to see. Blood was pulsating out of the nubs that remained.

“You see that? That’s respect that you cannot buy. He could have scratched through that rope... it’s only a quarter of an inch thick. He could have fallen to the sidewalk and alerted everybody to our presence. He didn’t. He’d rather chew off his own digits. Why? Because he has the respect to keep the operation secret, for the greater good.”

Ra’s stood, turning from his dead colleague and looking through the smashed window, down onto the street below. Gotham was still operating, but soon it would be the darkest hours of night, and the underbelly would be out in force. Anarchy would once again take its hold on the city. Who could save this mess now?

“For the greater good.”


Last edited by Piles; 09-11-2008 at 06:27 PM.
 
Old 09-11-2008, 10:00 AM   #12
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"THIS IS YOUR FAULT!"

I stare into the red angry eyes of my double, his face twisted in a scowl, blaming me for events long past. My fists clench as he continues his tirade.

"All of Mars, every man, woman and child, dead. DEAD! All because of you, J'onn J'onzz. You and your damned inaction. You should have interfered, you should have stepped up and helped your family when it needed you most!"

"'I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything but watch them die. I felt so helpless. So useless.'"



My double stares at me coldly, not a hint of sympathy or compassion in his visage.

"And that's what you are, USELESS! You call yourself a Manhunter!? You are pathetic, and your new charge, this planet Earth, will also die, and you J'onn J'onzz will do nothing but stand by and watch."



"No.."

"Yes. You are useless, and because of that you will suffer forever."

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Old 09-11-2008, 11:13 AM   #13
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Some Time Ago...

Bruce Wayne died, and Batman with him. When Batman died, the scum took back Gotham. It was insidious the way that new mobsters snuck in, and old mobsters regained their power. The police department run overtime trying to crack down. Nothing works. Even petty crime has gone up. Because Batman is dead. And they feared Batman. Deep, deep in their hearts, they feared the Batman and what he would do.

In a warehouse on the east side, a small time crook going by the name Big Johnny had called together a few old friends, intending to make a new gang. They wouldn't do much at first, but eventually they'd get some turf and want more. Then they'd pick a fight with another gang. Then other gangs would join on each side. Eventually you'd be looking at an all out Gang War. So this had to be stopped in the early stages.

He dropped down through the skylight. No one saw him, he was sure of that. There were stark neon lights illuminating a round metal table. Around it sat around five men. A few of them were middle aged, but the majority were young. Too young to be involved in something like this. He pulled two batarangs out of his belt, and flicked them at the light. It shattered with a crash, and the warehouse went into darkness.

"Johnny, what the hell you trying to pull?" one of the men shouted.
"I knew this was a set up!" another cried.

"Guys, this wasn't me, I swear," Big Johnny protested, holding up his big, meaty hands. They were all still sat around the table. He dropped down, landng with a muffled thump in the middle of the table. He grabbed Johnny by the scruff of his expensive shirt, and fired his grappling gun at the skylight. As he and the aspiring criminal were lifted up into the air, two men looked at each other.

"What just happened?"
"God knows. Let's get out of here,"

The rain was pattering on the roof of the warehouse.

"Yo...you're dead!" he spluttered.

"You were smuggling guns, Johnny," he growled.

"I was, I was," Johnny assured, nodding.

"Who were you smuggling them for?"

"I can't, I can't!"

"Who was it?!" he screamed, hanging him over the top of the roof.

"Lau, it was Lau!" Johnny shouted.

"Well done," he snarled, dropping him down onto the roof with a clatter.

"Wait...your....you're the Batman!" he gasped.

"Yes," Batman said. And then he was gone.

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**** went down.

It may or may not have also 'got real'.
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Old 09-11-2008, 11:43 AM   #14
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Tim thundered up the metal stairs of the construction site, cape flowing out behind him. The wind blew in his hair, plastering it over his eyes. The domino mask that was everpresent on his face, shifted as his face contorted in rage. The past year had been tough, but he was tougher. He would succeed. He always did. It was stormy over Gotham tonight. But then again, it was always stormy over Gotham.

He reached the top of the staircase, and pulled out a couple of batarangs from his utility belt. Quickly, he dodged out the way as a bolt of fire came towards the doorway.

"Heatwave," Tim hissed between his teeth, and turned to the more familiar figure accompanying him "And the new Firefly. Or is it Firebug? Didn't catch the name,"


"It's Firefly Boy Blunder," the new Firefly shouted. Tim winced.

Original

"How many times do you think I've heard that?" he asked quietly.

"You're too late. Between us, we're gonna burn Gotham to the ground!" Heat Wave said, pointing his gun at him.

"Just shoot the little bastard!" his companion demanded.

"You can't stop us. You're all alone!" Heat Wave taunted. Tim raised an eyebrow.

This was the point that Rose ran up the stairs accompanied with Zach. Connor and Megan flew up from the outside of the building site.

"Never,"

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**** went down.

It may or may not have also 'got real'.

Last edited by Catman_prb; 09-12-2008 at 05:41 PM.
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Old 09-11-2008, 03:25 PM   #15
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Zachary Zatara
It's magic.
Right, so I've had a pretty weird year. Besides having helped save the world from utter destruction after joining the Teen Titans, I've had a serious upgrade in power. Instead of having to recite incancations in reverse, completely emptying my mind and focusing, now I just kind of say what I want to happen and it does.

Cool, am I right?

It's helped a lot with the Titans, although I have been upstaging them a bit. But I can't help that, now can I, being a performer and all. After the whole Dark Alliance thing, I got a call from Zatanna. She got all weepy on the phone, telling me how proud she was of me. Haven't seen her in forever, so we decided to meet up tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it, to tell the truth.

Oh, and we have a new member! Yep, her name's Megan, and she can do most of what Connor can do. She's pretty hot. Kind of a quiet, nerdy thing. Not my usual, but nice.

But back to the now.

"You cannot stop us. You are all alone!" Heat Wave taunted. Tim raised an eyebrow.

This was the point that Rose ran up the stairs accompanied by me. Connor and Megan flew up from the outside of the building site.

"Never,"

The Teen Titans stand there, all badass. Heat Wave and the Firefly guy, I guess, are visibly surprised.

"What a lovely picture this is, Birdboy." Heat Wave says, his voice eerily deep and inhuman. [FONT=Comic Sans MS]

Heat Wave whips his gun upwards and points it at us. Suddenly the room grows warmer, as a brilliant blast of orange shoots from his gun. A raging blast of fire is sent cascading towards us.

"Stop." I speak with confidence, and the beam freezes in mid-air. The flames still writhe, trying as they can to reach us, but hindered by some invisible force. Heat Wave and his sidekick both widen their eyes in shock. "Wow, how embarassing for you." I chuckle, as the Titans spring into action.



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Old 09-11-2008, 04:20 PM   #16
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One year ago,

"Good evening, gentlemen. I am glad that you all made it." About ten men stood in a beautifully decorated room. One of the men have descended from the staircase. "As we have all heard the Batman is dead and with his death we start the greatest work of our careers." There clapping among the group as the man continued his descent down the stairs. "Now in a few minutes dinner will be served and we will discuss the future." He approached another man who was standing away from the group.

"Dr. Arkham, a pleasure." He extend his arm out towards him. Dr. Arkham lifted his head and stared into the other man's eyes. Dr. Arkham's eyes had a slight red tint to them.

"Not Arkham." He hissed under his breath.

"Excuse me?"

"You know who I am. You received my message the other day." The man's face twisted of one of worry and fear.

"Lord of the Algea. I apologize. What is it that you want?"

"To eat dinner, I am hungry. We have much to discuss, though. Remember you work for us now, Dr. Hurt."

Now-Ace Chemical Factory

Three men stand in the now deserted chemical factory. They are waiting for something. On the catwalks above a shadow lurks spying the men below.

"Are you sure we can trust him, boss?" He was speaking to Bruno "Ugly" Mannheim, leader of Metropolis base Intergang. After recent events they were looking to expand their territory into Gotham. Although they weren't just to go gun ablazing into Gotham too risky. They needed an inside man.

"I have no doubt. He's recommendation came from above." A black shape dropped down from above.

"What now, Batman? Do we ripped their throats out?"


"No, Robin we are to help these people." The three mobsters looked at him one of them reached for his gun.

"Put that thing away!" Shouted Mannheim. "Batman huh? I though you were..."

"Dead? Times have chance and so have my methods. This is for you." He threw the bag of money at his feet.

"What is it?"

"Trust."

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Old 09-11-2008, 05:22 PM   #17
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Star City
Oliver Queen's Apartment

"Listen, Mia." I say as I stand in the kitchen with a phone in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

"You go ahead and stay at that camp as long as you want to........no....no. Listen-....listen to me. School doesn't start for a few more weeks. You can stay out there. Believe me Connor and I can manage."

I let Mia go to a summer camp retreat before school started back. It's off in Colorado. Poor kid, after all that happened last year she needs it. We talk for a few more minutes before we say our goobyes and hang up.

"Connor!" I yell through the apartment.

"Chilli's almost done."

He walks in with a strange look on his face.

"What's wrong with you? You look like you came in 2nd place in a flowery poetry reading contest?"

"Look on the T.V."

He flips on the small T.V. in the kitchen and the local news appears on the screen.

"-far no casualties have been reported. And, if you're just joining us. Chemo, the gigantic chemical waste moster is rampaging through Star. Reports say he came ashore some eighteen minutes ago. The National Guard has been called to aid with evacuations and to hold the creature's progress. We'll have more news as it develops."

I turn to Connor and point towards the back of the apartment.

"The chilli will keep. Go get my bow."


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Old 09-11-2008, 06:35 PM   #18
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Space Sector (/)
Oa
One Year Ago


"Hal Jordan of Sector 2814?"

I'd been asleep, my dreams like usual haunted by fragments of a forgotten past. When I had been reassigned to Oa, to help Kilowog train new recruits to the Green Lantern Corps, The Guardians of the Universe had wiped my memory of the past several years. To aid me in my transition, they had told me. I'd never forgiven them.

Ever since, my memory had began coming back in bits and pieces, but I was still missing so much. Gaping holes in the life I had left behind, that I felt incomplete without knowing. But I did my job, I trained the recruits. I was a good soldier. And The Guardians had largely left me alone. Until now.

I wake up to find Ganthet and another Guardian hovering inside my living quarters. Pulling the covers up over my torso, I sit up in bed, rubbing my eyes.

"What do you want?"

"You have been reassigned," declared the Guardian who had spoke moments before, "Tomorrow, you will return to your native sector, Space Sector 2814."

I blink in confusion, trying to take on what has just been said. I've wanted this for so long, to return home, and now it happens, as easy as that?

"Why? Why now?"

The two Guardians exchange glances. But Ganthet remains silent while the other Guardian replies.

"There has been much disturbance in your sector as of late. And there may be more disturbances iminent..."

Of course they'd never tell me what those iminent disturbances were...

"...so The Guardians of the Universe has decided it would be best if your sector was provided with additional support. As of now, you will be of greater benefit to the Corps on Space Sector 2814 than you would be here on Oa. That is all."

Just like that. The other Guardian leaves, but Ganthet stays behind.

"I apologise...for keeping you uninformed, Hal Jordan of Earth. Unfortunately, it is necessary."

I stare coldly at Ganthet.

"Like wiping my memory was necessary?"

Ganthet shakes his head and lets out a sigh of regret. An extreme sign of emotion for a Guardian. The differences between Ganthet and the other Guardians are becoming more pronounced every time we meet.

"As a matter of fact. That is why I am here now. To rectify that... mistake."

Before I can respond to that, Ganthet has hovered to my bedside, and his tiny hand is rested on my forehead. And then I'm bombarded by a rush of information, memories flooding back into my consciousness so hard and so fast I feel like my head is on fire. And over it all, I hear Ganthet's voice.

"Hal Jordan of Earth. Remember everything. You will need to be fully prepared... for the gathering darkness."

A few moments later, Ganthet withdraws his hand. I fall back onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted, drained. But it's back. All of it. And just before all goes black and I drift into unconsciousness, I utter one word.

"Carol..."

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Old 09-12-2008, 03:28 AM   #19
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Police cars meet in a random alignment in the street. Lights flash brightly, their colors cutting through the darkness as they turn. Yellow tape borders the area, restricting access and reflecting flashes from the lights.

On the ground lies a man, dead, blood dripping underneath his body. His eyes are open, his hands clutched tightly together. On his face is an expression of shock, a look only shown by those who are unsuspecting.

A police car slowly drives up into the fray. It comes to a halt, and the hum of the engine cuts off. The door opens, and a man steps out from the car. It is Jim Gordon, honest cop and virtuous man. His dim glasses hide the look in his eyes, the look of a tired man. He lets out a heavy sigh as he walks toward the crime scene, his breath showing in the midnight air.

As he approaches the two policemen guarding the tape Gordon nods to them and begins to speak. "What have we got?" He asks, knowing what he'll be told.

"Dave Nep." The officer says. "Switchblade in the left pants pocket, illegal and unregistered hand gun found four feet from him. We had the drug dogs here by accident, so we figured we'd use them." The officer turns to Jim, and his expression fades into one of dissapointment. "The dogs could sniff it on him miles away. Some kind of contraband. As for what kind, we're not sure yet."

"Mh." Gordon says, not surprised. "I'm going to have a look." He says, lifting the tape and entering the crime scene.

"Be my guest." The officer says, motioning to him. Gordon walks around the body, examining it closely as he goes in a circle. Gordon stops, his back turned to a dark alley behind him. He kneels down to the body, and looks at the clothes, staring intently. "They were right," he says, holding his hand to his nose. "The dogs could smell it from a mile away."

"It's him, Jim." A voice suddenly speaks, it's tone deep and mystic. Gordon doesn't turn around, he continues to look at the body. With a weary look, Gordon wipes his face and breaths slowly.

"What makes you think that?" Gordon asks in a fairly emotionless voice.

"You know it as well as I do, Jim." The voice says again. "He's one of Thorne's men. Traveled here on a ship two weeks ago."

"So why is he still here?" Gordon questions, continuing to look at the body.

"Double crossed them. Made a mistake. Left behind, caught in the crossfire. It doesn't matter much. Not right now."

"Not like it makes any difference." Gordon says in a saddened tone. "You know we'll never pin it to Thorne." The voice stays silent for a minute, the area quiet except for the sounds of the civilians and policemen at the edge of the street.

"I left some evidence on your desk," the voice speaks, cutting the silence. "It's tagged and noted so you'll know what it means." Gordon's eyes widen, and a look of hope comes to his face. He quickly resumes his emotionless disposition, and rises to a stand.

"You think you can take him down?" Gordon asks in an accusing tone.

"I think I can help you." Gordon turns around quickly, his jacket flipping up as he spins. He stares into the alley, looking for his source. As he stares into the darkness, he sees no sign, no figure. Nothing. Gordon sighs, putting his hands in his pockets as he walks toward the yellow tape.

"Sometimes..." Gordon starts, speaking quietly to himself, but yet, another. "We'll see, Dent." He says, shaking his head. "We'll see."

Two Face

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Old 09-12-2008, 07:31 AM   #20
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII




"Do you have the merchandise?" The fat man says as he breathes heavily. I watch high from the rafters above.

This man just so happens to be Tobias Whale. A crimelord from Metropolis, he's expanding his empire here in Gotham. Just one of the many trying to take over Gotham in Batman's abscense.

I've been keeping tabs on him, hoping to get him on something.

Tonight might be my chance. He's meeting someone in one of the run down warehouses this city seems to have a lot of. His men need guns, and there is one man in Gotham all criminals turn to when they need something.

"Please, my good Whale." Oswald Cobblepot says in his smug way as he steps out of the shdaows.

"I am not sure how things were handled in Metropolis, but I assure you The Penguin is a man of his word."

Penguin's umbrella tip taps against the floor as he walks towards Whale.

"I take that as a yes, then."

"And you have the money?"

Whale smiles a bit, he walks slowly towards Cobblepot and engulfs the small man in his shadow.

"What if I don't want to give you the money? What if I just want the guns, no charge?"

Cobblepot never loses his cool as he snaps his fingers. About six men with machine guns and pengiun masks pop out.

Whale is seemingly surprised by them. I've noticed them for twenty minutes.

"Well, my dear blubbery friend. What if I want to just take your money and keep my guns?"

I quietly pull my escrima sticks out. I'll jump in if I have to.


"If I do die."Whale smiles and leans in to Penguin.

"Rest assured, I will take you with me."

BLAM!

The shot comes, but from any of Pengiun's men. Whoever it was, isn't a good shot. The bullet misses Whale and Pengiun by five feet.

"Wha!!! Fire back, you fools!"

Chaos follows as Penguin's men shoot anywhere and everywhere to find the sniper.

Whale flees as bullets fly all over.

I leap out of the rafters and go to work.

Two of the masked goons go down as I hit them in the throat with my sticks.

Grabbing another by the wrist, I pull the gun out of his hand and snap his wrist with a sickening pop.

The other three gunmen turn their attention to me, I handspring backwars to avoid heavy gunfire.

I throw my sticks and crack two on the head. They go down like a ton of bricks.

Just leaving me with the one masked man.

He stops firing and looks at me timdily.

"Penguin's gone. Whale is gone. You saw what I did to the others. Just go ahead and give up."

He stares at me for a long moment, finally he drops his gun and lays on the ground.

"Good, now about that sniper."

I climb up one of the rafters and leap across the beams to where the shot came from. There's nobody there now, but the skylight's opening tells me they just left.

"Hello, Alex." I say as I jump through the skylight and land on the rooftop.

A fat man wearing a homeade cape and cowl turns around, he's still got the rifle in his hands.

"You!"

"Yes, me. What are you doing here again? What did I tell you last month?"

"You can't stop me! I want to make a difference in this world. I want to honor Batman!"

"You dying isn't going to honor him."

I walk across the roof to him.

"Who made you the boss?"

I grab Alex's hands, pull the rifle out and quickly handcuff his hands behind his back.

"I'm calling the police. I'm telling them you're up here. Don't let me catch you out here again."

I drop the rifle away from him and start to walk towards the roof's ledge.

"What makes you any different than me?!"

I turn back and look at him.

"Okay. A) I'm not wearing hockey pads. And B) Try and do this."

I run and leap off the building, throwing a grapnel line as I fall.



I have to admit. I'm a little ticked off I couldn't get Whale. Any chance I had at getting him and Cobblepot went up thanks to Alex's help.

Despite all of that, I find myself smiling as I run and leap across the roofops of Gotham.

It's almost 5 a.m. and I have a lovely lady I need to see.

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Old 09-12-2008, 07:43 PM   #21
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A year. A year. Thats all that was going through Roy's mind as he stared at the closet. Lian was asleep on his lap, the TV still playing her cartoons. He smiled a little as his little girl snored lightly as he pushed her hair away from her eye patch.

Roy Harper, Ars- No... not right now. Roy Harper, Stay At Home dad. He couldn't deny that nights like this he didn't want to be out there, that he didn't have to keep himself from opening that closet and slipping back into the tights. But Dick was right, he didn't deserve to anymore. Not after what he'd done to Slade. He'd spent the last year thinking about that, and it ate away at his mind.

He lightly picked up Lian and carried her to her bed, tucking her in for the night and kissing her on her forehead. As he closed the door, he heard the police scanner squawk from the next room, and sighed. He didn't even know why he still had it, it just made him more restless. He heard it rattle off an address nearby, a home alarm triggered. Nothing new, not in New York anyway. Two blocks away though... what could it hurt?

He'd been working as Kuk Sa Nim at a local Hwa Rang Do dojo. Being probably the best living fighter of the Moo Gi Gong discipline meant that he made a decent living teaching others, and that he didn't have to stay out late at night. Still kept the live in nanny though, just in case. He smiled, just in case he ever got the urge to do this again. He knocked on another door in the penthouse, and smiled when it opened. The nineteen year old girl looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Going hussy searching again Roy?"

"Nah, I'm going out for some air. Be back in a couple hours, Lian's sleeping, so don't worry."

"Hmm. No hussy? Going to meet Donna again then? I like her, she's better for Lian than any of those ****s you bring home from the bar."

"You wound me, ma'am. Right here."

Roy taps his chest, and smiles as Jenny closed her door.

Ten Minutes Later, four blocks away:

This guy's an amatuer. Seriously. No gloves, no mask, no hat. Bumbling idiot, leaving a trail of bread crumbs for any one with a modicrum of intelligence to follow. At least he has a gun.

Roy sighed and shook his head. What a way to come out of retirement. He drops down into the alley way behind the paranoid burglar, carrying a handful of jewelry in one hand and his pistol in the other.

"PUT the GUN down."

The man didn't do as he was told, but Roy smirked as he picked up an odor of a vinegary smell and the man dropped the jewels and turned a look of fear on his face.

"Don't make me repeat myself."

The look of terror disappeared from the man's eyes as he saw his confronter, he aimed his pistol and pulled back the hammer.

"You supposed to be Robin Hood? Bow and arrows don't work against guns big guy."

He fired the pistol, missing by several feet and Roy sighed. The man didn't even know how to handle the recoil.

As two red flighted arrows pinned the man to the wall by his shirt, Roy shook his head.

"I warned you, dumbass."

Roy balled his hand into a fist and slammed it into the captured thief's nose, shattering it in a spray of blood.

"And Robin Hood wore green. No, I'm Red Arrow, and tell your buddies that this section of town is under MY protection now."

As the man groaned from the broken nose, Roy grabbed his head and slammed it into the wall, knocking him unconscious, and then walked home.

It felt good to be back.

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Old 09-13-2008, 03:39 AM   #22
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“I’m bbbbbbbbaaaaaaaaaaaaccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkk,” Leslie Willis, the ‘rehabilitated’ supervillainess Livewire, voice came crackling over the airwaves into radios and cell phones all over Metropolis. “They’ve let your favourite DJ back on the airwaves, and you know what the best thing about it is? I don’t even need equipment anymore!”

Several people in Metropolis suddenly found their radio switching to the WGBS station.

“Oops!” Livewire laughed. “I’m not allowed to do that anymore!”

In his subterranean lair – which connected to an abandoned museum in the centre of Metropolis – Lex Luthor chuckled slightly. His radio had already been tuned to WGBS, as it had every morning for the last few years. Ever since Leslie Willis had come aboard, in fact. Before he transformation into the electrifying Livewire, she was well-known for ranting about Superman on the air, and naturally, Lex Luthor had loved her show from the beginning. Occasionally, when support for her show fell, he would anonymously donate a sum of money to keep it on the air.

In fact, Luthor had also been responsible for Leslie Willis’ high-class attorney, who had managed to get her out on parole and her radio show back. To be honest, the master criminal had cared little for supervillain antics. She provided only a minimal threat to his hated enemy Superman in her guise as Livewire. Luthor calculated she might better befit his interests out of a prison cell and back in the studio.

Besides that, he really liked her show.

Of course, Livewire had chattered on, throwing in an anti-Superman remark that made Lex Luthor smile and then proceeded to announce the first song while laughing wildly. “I think this one is appropriate, don’t you!?”

Well if you're lookin' for trouble
I'm the man to see
If you're lookin' for a-satisfaction
I'm satisfaction guaranteed
I'm as cool as a body on ice
Or hotter than a rollin' dice
Send you to heaven
Take you to hell
I ain't foolin'
Can't you tell

I'm a live wire
I'm a live wire
I'm a live wire
Gonna set this town on fire

Luthor, who had been working diligently on his next project with his trusted robot Asimov, couldn’t help but sway slightly as he went about his work. What broke his concentration however, was a sudden humming along with the tune of the song. Bewildered, Luthor lifted his goggles and turned to his aide. Asimov returned the look, the grey-skinned robot’s face holding a small smile.

“Asimov?”
“Yes, Mr. Luthor?”
“Did I just hear you humming?”
“… Yes, Mr. Luthor.”
Luthor put the goggles back on. “Carry on.”
“Yes, Mr. Luthor,” Asimov happily responded, humming along again.

And if you need some lovin'
And if you need some man
You've got the phone and the number
And I got no future plans
Oh come on honey you got nothin' to lose
You got the thirst 'n I got the booze
Give you an inch
Take you a mile
I wanna make you fry

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Old 09-13-2008, 05:48 AM   #23
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The endless, rolling plains that stretch out like an ocean.

The best roasted chicken anywhere on the planet, bar none.

The forty acres of cornfields I harvested in the minute or so before knocking on the door.

No question about it...



...it's always good to come home.

"Great dinner, Ma," I say, patting my stomach, "you really outdid yourself with that casserole."

"Oh, I didn't do anything special with it this time. Probably all that junk you've been eating in Metropolis that's making your appetite nostalgic,"
she teases, mussing my hair a little.

"Only thing out of the ordinary tonight is the look on your face," Pa says. He always seems to see right through my brave face when something's bothering me. "You've got that I-blame-myself look you always have when things are starting to turn bad."

"I guess I do blame myself a little more than I'd like to believe. That new group in Metropolis--those KRYPTONITE people--are shouting out all that hateful mess that Lex used to say about me. They're getting ugly, turning violent, might start hurting people.

"I can't help but think that if I ever got through to Lex, this wouldn't be happening. Now that he's gone, the mobs are using him like a martyr. They're getting more and more fanatical in believing that I'm the bad guy, and that me leaving is the only way for it to stop.

"I came here tonight to let you know...I'm leaving Earth."

Pa gives me a stern look, more disappointed than mad.

"You ever read much Mark Twain?"

"Of course."

"Then you'll know this one:

Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world - 'No, you move.'"

I know Pa's right; giving in to the demands of an angry mob just because they're mad at the wrong people would be just as bad as giving up a fight with the villains who threaten them. Still, I've made up my mind.

"Pa, it's more than just that. There's something else out there, something I need to do that I can't here.

"I...I'm going to bring Kara back."

"Clark, what do you..."

"Just that. I told you about how I got rid of Brainiac and Doomsday. Well, while I was being rescued, I got a message about it. Another Kryptonian, close to returning from the grave, calling me by name. It has to be Kara. If I can get to where she's calling from, I might be able to bring her back."

There's a long and uncomfortable silence in the room. Finally, Pa speaks up.

"Son, we miss Kara too. But you're talking about going against nature here. I know you've come back before, but what you're saying sounds an awful lot like playing god."

"Pa, I know there are things that shouldn't be messed with. But when I came back last time, it was because I was supposed to stop a crisis that could be the end for everything. Maybe Kara's got a part in that, too. I have to know."

They don't approve. Honestly, they've got every right not to. Still, Pa sighs, and lowers his head.

"You're your own man, Clark, and there isn't much anyone can do to stop you once you've made up your mind. Just...come back home in one piece."

"I promise, Pa,"
I say with a smile, though both of us know I might not make it back at all.

I exchange hugs with my folks, then head out, flying one more time over the fields. In the morning, I'll hold a press conference to let everyone know I'm going, then go to the Fortress and take the ship out into space. Before all that, though, I've got one more good night to spend with my wife.

What lies ahead, even I don't know for sure. But I intend to find out.


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Old 09-13-2008, 06:29 AM   #24
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Rose Wilson

As the other Titans spring into action after the two fire obsessed criminals, Rose stays behind. Her costume has changed, the colors different. Gray and black color her suit, her mask still split between the two colors. Chain mail armor is carefully secured around her torso, protecting her vital organs. On her back, something is missing. Swords no longer adorn her costume. In their place are two black billy clubs, their ends curved and rounded neatly.

She comes up behind Zach, a smile wide on her face. She grabs him by his suit, and pulls him back toward her. With no one watching, she kisses him on the lips passionately. As she pulls a way, she lets out a deep breath, an anxious expression on her face. "Thanks, 'Zatara'." She tells him in a seductive voice.

Immediately, she springs into action. She runs to the building's edge, and flips high into the air. Her form is perfect, using every muscle in her body to its maximum to achieve the arc and length of the leap.

Carefully and agily, Rose hits the next rooftop and goes into a roll to break her momentum. Almost simultaneously, her roll forms into another jump, and she moves toward Heat Wave.

She lands easily a few meters in front of the villain, standing amongst the fire and flame around her. "Well hello." Heat Wave says with an evil smile. "New addition to the team, I see?" Rose smirks as she reaches behind her and pulls one of the clubs from her back.

"You don't recognize me?" Rose asks as she leans forward. "I'm insulted." Rose jumps forward in a twist, landing on her right arm as she throws the club at her foe. The metal stick slams into Heat Wave's helmet, breaking his visor and sending him backward, slamming onto the rooftop.

Rose stands proudly as he writhes in pain, groaning and yelling in pain. Suddenly, Rose hears a click, and she jumps to dodge. Just as she moves, Heat Wave sits up and fires a pillar of fire toward her. "You'll burn for that." He growls, his face bloody from the glass shards in his skin.

Rose easily misses each ember, each tip of the flames. Heat Wave's gun suddenly cuts off, the fire dying down and the flame becoming white. "What the-" Heat Wave turns to see the semi cloaked image of a girl, her hands tightly grasping the cord from his gun to his backpack. Rose looks over and suddenly realizes who it is.
"Cosmos!" Rose shouts, seeing the new Titan in danger. "MOVE!" Heat Wave throws his elbow into the girls face, knocking her back. She falls to the ground, and her invisiability fades away. Heat Wave laughs as he points the gun toward her. "I always did want to burn someone alive..." he says with a malicious grin. He pulls the trigger, and Rose jumps toward him with all her might.

Fire burts out of the nozzle, shooting flames toward the young Titan. Rose's shoulder impacts Heat Wave hard, knocking the two backward. The fire grazes Megan's body, and she screams in pain. Rose latches onto the man and reaches for the gun, hoping to grab the cord and rip it free. Fire spreads on the rooftop, turning the area into a literal hell.

"You'll pay for that!" Rose says, clenching her teeth tightly as she struggles with her adversary.

"No!" He laughs. "You two will die!" Rose punches him hard in the gut, hitting him right above the abdominals. He groans in pain as the wind is knocked from his body. Weakened, Rose is able to gain the upper hand. She grabs his gun and the cord in her hands. As she moves to rip the cord out, Heat Wave kicks her in her lower torso, knocking her backward.

"You...little...*****." Heat Wave groans, holding his stomach, pressing his hand to it. With his other arm, he points the gun toward Megan, seeing her cry as she holds her hand on her burn. "Everything burns, Titans..." he starts, taking aim. "Even you."

Rose lunges toward him, grabbing him in a bear hug and forcing all her energy behind her. The two figures tumble on the rooftop, and fall over the side. They continue to fight as they fall, punching and hitting eachother as they begin to decend closer and closer to the ground.

"You fool!" He shouts, grabbing her by her neck. "We'll both die!"

"You'll die," she says with a grin. She grabs his arm, and forces her thumb into his wrist. He shouts in pain and releases her throat. "I'll have a nice cushion to break my fall." Rose smiles as she forces Heat Wave's arm backward, hearing a crack and pop. "That'd be you."

The circulation in Heat Wave's arm cuts off from the break, and a rush of blood goes to his brain. He blacks out almost immediately, his body going limp as the wind around him gets stronger. Rose groans as she puts her finger to her ear, activating her communicator. "Titans," she starts, her transmission crackling as wind rushes into the speaker. "I can't fly...assistance would be great."

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Old 09-13-2008, 07:15 AM   #25
Catman_prb
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Default Re: The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII

Tim was fighting with whichever crazy nut had decided to dress himself up as the new Firefly. He was a skilled hand to hand fighter, which was more than could be said for his partner in crime. Still, he had yet to see what his attraction was to fire. He grabbed the black mask that covered his face, and ripped it off. His mouth opened slightly.

"You're a woman?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Don't be sexist. Rose would beat the crap out of you.
I'm not! It's just...wasn't expecting a woman.
Don't tell Rose that.

He was brought out of the conversation by a hard punched to his jaw, which sent him sprawling.

"Were you listening to a word I was saying?" she shouted.

"I guess no's the wrong answer...if you give yourself up now, you won't get too badly hurt. Seeing as it's your first time out, we decided to take it easy on you," he said, gesturing to Zatara and Con who were waiting in the wings.

A ball of fire appeared in one of her outstretched hands.

That explains the fire connection.

"Oh..." he started, before diving out of the way as the ball landed where his head had been. He smelt burning fabric, and detatched the cape from his back.

"So you're a meta?" he asked, backing away "Well that was one of my favourite capes. Take it away boys,"

He ducked out of the way, letting Zach and Con take over.

"Titans. I can't fly...assistance would be great." Roses voice came over the communicator. He sighed. She still wouldn't accept a position as one of the New Titans.

"I'm on it," he said to Megan, gesturing for her to join the other fight. He fired the grapple into the side of the building, and then jumped off. He made himself as streamlined as possible, ducking his head down, arms and legs clamped together, as someone had once taught him long ago. He leveled out with Rose and Heat Wave, and grabbed his girlfriend around the waist. His girlfriend...one of the many things he had neglected to tell the rest of the Titans.

Because it's not something they need to know.
It is fairly important.
It's not like you're getting married. I give you another month tops.
You said that a year ago.
You aren't getting married are you?
...How wouldn't you know that?

"You could fly, if you took a grapplegun like I suggested," he said, winching them back in. The winch managed to throw them up in the air slightly, so they landed on the roof. Tim dropped down and checked the pulse of Heat Wave. You could never be too careful when Rose was involved.

That's because she's a psycho.
She's getting better.
Doesn't stop the psychoness...that's not a word is it?
Not even remotely.

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