The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG: Season 2.0

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(IC: Lex Luthor)

"...assure you that our hearts go out to the victims of this tragedy, and the government will have our full cooperation in investigating the matter. That is all. Thank you."

Luthor stepped away from the podium, dismissing the mob of hungry reporters hoping to get more details than he had already told them. Miss Lane of the Daily Planet was particularly tenacious today; she was always digging around for dirt on Lex these days, and something as unexpected as a binary fusion cannon erupting from underneath the LexCorp Tower was something that was sure to pique her curiosity. Lex would have to consider removing her from the equation should she ever find something.

Today, however, Lois Lane and all of the other reporters would leave with only Luthor's official word on the matter. And the feds could probe as deeply into LexCorp's current projects as much as they liked; hell, virtually all of the classified programs were being made at the government's request. They would never find any sinister plans, because there wasn't anything sinister stored on the computers in any one of LexCorp's databanks.

That sort of thing Luthor stored in his own mind.

As he walked down the hallway towards the elevators, he put on his bluetooth ear-piece and called down to the laboratory floor director.

"Doctor Sivana? I'd start tidying up if I were you; you're about to have a lot of nosy visitors in the labs over the next couple of days."

"Yes, sir, Mister Luthor, sir."


As always, Lex internally winced at Sivana's voice. The man was a pathetic, snivelling, rat-faced little sycophant, but he was also one of the most gifted scientists on Earth. More importantly, he did what he was told, which put him ahead of the others in Luthor's eyes.

And that sort of obedience would be crucial when the real productions began, after the federal investigations were completed.

In the meantime, Luthor switched channels and contacted the sensory team.

"Any news on the timespace anomaly left over from Brainiac's ship?"

"The aberration seemed to solidify for a few moments, became erratically unstable during the explosion, then evidently closed. We can't find any readings on any of our sensors, sir."

Luthor's brow furrowed as he considered the meaning of this. Clearly the "aberration" was a wormhole of some sort, as Brainiac had mentioned capturing alien cultures through such means. If he intended to do the same here, the machine clearly failed, likely due to the other alien, Superman. Wormholes don't just open and close due to something like an explosion. Something else must have happened...

...a timespace inversion.

Of course. Without a proper containment field to handle the disruption, the fabric of timespace clogged the wormhole, causing it to eject matter. Instead of something going in, something came out.

But what?

"I want to inspect your data personally; send a copy of your readings to my desk as soon as possible."

"Yes sir."

With that, Luthor switched off his ear-piece and headed for his office, where the vial of OMAC nanites was still waiting for him. The thought of discovering this technology's potential made him feel like a kid at Christmas.

Finding out what came out of the wormhole would have to wait.

----------

It is impossible for human beings to truly comprehend the size and scale of the universe, or the true nature of time and space as it is. It is even moreso to understand what happens when those rules are broken.

Billions of light years away from the planet Earth, there was a star so young that it gave off a powerful blue light. There was nothing wholly remarkable about this blue star, other than the fact that it was at the exact opposite spatial coordinates of Earth's own sun.

The blue star had drifted along for millions of years, with no neighboring systems, no nearby stars, no satellites in its orbit, nothing...

...until recently.

On the planet Earth, a wormhole had opened in the time/space continuum, only to be interrupted before the intended transfer had occurred. The inversion spat out something on the exact opposite end of space.

Something large...

...something alive...

....something...square...

bizarroworld.gif

 
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This was one of the weirdest nights in my life. First I fight alien technology, then I get attacked by the 'Black Mask' while with a client. I wanted to check up on Zach and make sure he's still alright.

"Rood nepo!"


The door then silently opened as I approached it. I turned to see Zach still asleep.

"Thank god."

He's still okay. Let's hope it still stays that way. Zach was my life now. He's my pride and joy. He's the reason I'm a superhero. I try to clean up crime to protect him. Speaking of which, the Black Mask. I need to find him before he finds me, or Zach. Time for some action.

"Emutsoc!"

My leathery costume then magically replaced my clothes. My next step was to investigate, but detective work isn't my forte, however, I know someone who could find this guy in a minute. Although I have no way of tracking him magically, since I don't (really) know his real identity. So hopefully I'll run into him while fighting some bad guys and puttin' them away.

"Mahtog!"
 
Delilah was right. Superman was the monster. Like Blackrock, Superman was being fueled by the media.

Peter sat up in his hospital bed and looked around. There were many instruments attached to him, obviously examining the unique condition he exhibited by having an alien stone burned into his chest and feeding its unknown material and energies directly into his veins. For the longest time, Peter simply sat there and looked at his pale hands covered in pitch-black veins. When the nurse finally came in, Dr. Silverstone looked up at her and smiled. "Where's Superman?" he asked. After dealing with the aftermath of the alien invasion, no word on the Man of Steel's current whereabouts could be found on any stream of media that Peter could tap into.

"It's good to see that you're awake, Mr. Silverstone. The doctor is on his way as we speak." The nurse smiled pleasantly as she checked the readings on the instruments around his bed.

"Where is Superman?" Peter asked once again, this time with a touch more impatience in his voice.

The nurse looked down at Peter, her smile wavering only slightly at his tone. "You've been in a coma for a bit more than a week, Peter. Rest assured that you've been under the best of care--AACK!" With speed imperceptible to the human eye, Blackrock's hand lashed out and grabbed the nurse by the throat.

Peter pulled the woman's face close to his and almost whispered with hate and rage seething from his mouth, "Where. Is. Superman?" When the nurse looked down, she realized that Dr. Silverstone had levitated from his bed and was holding her in mid-air as his own head was now mere inches from the ceiling. "Trust me, I'm quite unbalanced at the moment. If you don't know the answer, then I'd suggest telling me that now so that I can make your death as quick as possible, and move on to someone hopefully a bit more informative."
 
Bloody hell.
I tighten my grip on the mirror and shove it inside my jacket.
Wonder what the hell this kid is gonna do. If he takes after his friend in the red, I'd better be quick on the draw.
I stare him in the face, the kid simply smiling wryly back at me. I silently, slowly but surely, slip my hand behind my back until I find the small knife I had kept tucked in my belt in case I had to make someone quiet.

"Ah, so it's two fer the price of one, yeah? Tell me, do you freaks get a group discount on yer halloween costumes?"

I grab the handle of the knife, as the kid talks back at me without skipping a beat.

"Pssh, that's just like a damn Irish bastard."

I dissapear and lay my shoulder into him at superspeed. The force sends him flying back into a wall.

"You bring a damn knife to a powers fight."
 
"Pssh, that's just like a damn Irish bastard."

I dissapear and lay my shoulder into him at superspeed. The force sends him flying back into a wall.

"You bring a damn knife to a powers fight."

My body crashes into the wall and I hear my shoulder go out. The pain's a right bastard, but I'll live.
The fact that I'm currently tussling with two lads who seem to be able to move faster than I can blink isn't even what's on my mind. Neither is the fact that I very clearly hear sirens approaching the bank.
All I can think about is how the hell I'm going to get out.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'd love to spend some time alone in a room of mirrors with these two bloody bastards. They don't scare me, and neither does what passes as police these days.
But I've been waiting a good 6 years. It's 6 years ago, I walked in and saw my own mother about to kill herself because of me. Now, I put her in this mirror so I could talk to her before she did anything. Tell her everything.
Explain.
I was going to tell her everything about myself. What I can do. Everything. All I had to do was prevent her from pulling on that trigger. At the moment, putting her in the mirror and letting her out a few minutes later seemed like a good idea.
But the moment I walked in to my apartment, Powell and his lackey ****s showed up and took it from me. Took her from me.
Six bloody goddamn years, I've been doing their dirty work so I could one day speak to my mother. Six bleedin' years that poor old woman's been stuck in the dark between mirrors, not knowing what's going on.

That's why I need to get out. I can not risk lo--.
No.
No.
No no.
Oh No No NO NO!

"NO! NOOOOOOOO!" I let the shattered pieces of the mirror slide between my fingers and hit the floor. Panicked, I begin to crawl around the floor puzzling together what pieces I can find.
 
My body crashes into the wall and I hear my shoulder go out. The pain's a right bastard, but I'll live.
The fact that I'm currently tussling with two lads who seem to be able to move faster than I can blink isn't even what's on my mind. Neither is the fact that I very clearly hear sirens approaching the bank.
All I can think about is how the hell I'm going to get out.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'd love to spend some time alone in a room of mirrors with these two bloody bastards. They don't scare me, and neither does what passes as police these days.
But I've been waiting a good 6 years. It's 6 years ago, I walked in and saw my own mother about to kill herself because of me. Now, I put her in this mirror so I could talk to her before she did anything. Tell her everything.
Explain.
I was going to tell her everything about myself. What I can do. Everything. All I had to do was prevent her from pulling on that trigger. At the moment, putting her in the mirror and letting her out a few minutes later seemed like a good idea.
But the moment I walked in to my apartment, Powell and his lackey ****s showed up and took it from me. Took her from me.
Six bloody goddamn years, I've been doing their dirty work so I could one day speak to my mother. Six bleedin' years that poor old woman's been stuck in the dark between mirrors, not knowing what's going on.

That's why I need to get out. I can not risk lo--.
No.
No.
No no.
Oh No No NO NO!

"NO! NOOOOOOOO!" I let the shattered pieces of the mirror slide between my fingers and hit the floor. Panicked, I begin to crawl around the floor puzzling together what pieces I can find.

This guy stars crawling around the floor grabbing pieces of mirror...the hell?

"Alright, man. Just put your hands behind your head and sit the **** down. The cops are gonna be here soon."
 
This guy stars crawling around the floor grabbing pieces of mirror...the hell?

"Alright, man. Just put your hands behind your head and sit the **** down. The cops are gonna be here soon."

No! He..he...no...
That kid...he.....
Rage boils inside of me unlike anything I've ever felt before.

"You...Y...You...I AM GOING TO KILL YOOOOU!"

And with that, I let loose with that I can only assume is everything I've got in me.
Simultaneously, everything in the building that's made of glass shatters. Massive windows rain onto the floor in tiny pieces. Anything that reflects begins to suck just about anything that's not bolted down into itself.
Dead bodies, tables, chairs, everything. It all begins to sink into the floor, including that ****** kid.
As the unconscious body of the one in red, Flash, disappears into the floor, he begins to wake up. But it's too late.
With one down and one to go, I can see the kid begin to run at unbelievable speeds. Dear Mary mother of God, he's going fast...
But it's no use. The only way he's going is down.

"RYAAAAAAAARGH!"

I scream as I rip my jacket off and bring to my hands two knives. I grab them tight and run towards the kid, who's still fighting the pull.
I jump at him, bringing my whole weight down on him. I slam the knives into his body; one in his shoulder and one his left thigh. I make sure to twist the knives. I want this to hurt him.

The floor devours us. When I open my eyes, we're all floating aimlessly in the black space of the Mirror Highway.

In here, speed'll do them no good.

 
No! He..he...no...
That kid...he.....
Rage boils inside of me unlike anything I've ever felt before.

"You...Y...You...I AM GOING TO KILL YOOOOU!"

And with that, I let loose with that I can only assume is everything I've got in me.
Simultaneously, everything in the building that's made of glass shatters. Massive windows rain onto the floor in tiny pieces. Anything that reflects begins to suck just about anything that's not bolted down into itself.
Dead bodies, tables, chairs, everything. It all begins to sink into the floor, including that ****** kid.
As the unconscious body of the one in red, Flash, disappears into the floor, he begins to wake up. But it's too late.
With one down and one to go, I can see the kid begin to run at unbelievable speeds. Dear Mary mother of God, he's going fast...
But it's no use. The only way he's going is down.

"RYAAAAAAAARGH!"

I scream as I rip my jacket off and bring to my hands two knives. I grab them tight and run towards the kid, who's still fighting the pull.
I jump at him, bringing my whole weight down on him. I slam the knives into his body; one in his shoulder and one his left thigh. I make sure to twist the knives. I want this to hurt him.

The floor devours us. When I open my eyes, we're all floating aimlessly in the black space of the Mirror Highway.

In here, speed'll do them no good.


I float through the blackness of wherever I am, Barry's slowly waking beside me in space.

"Hellooooooo is there anybody in therrreeee??? Just nod if you can hear me?...Is there anyone at home??"

I see Barry's eyes snap open and he starts to look around, his eyes dart to my costume and mask.

"Heh, funny story. I'm a superhero now and we're in some wierd dimension....funny right?"
 
gordonop9.png


St. Adams Cathedral

Merkel and I walk down the middle of the aisle as the midnight mass is about to start.

"What're we doing here sir?"

I look at Merkel as we finally come to the alter and take a right towards the back of the church.

"The walls have ears in the Gotham polie department. This is the only place they're afraid to go. A house of god..."

Merkel follows me down a hallway and to a door.

"Ahh, James.."

"Father Miller. Thank you once again for letting me use your office."

"Think nothing of it. Don't forget, my father was a police man. I understand how...difficult it can be inside the police force."

Father Miller leads us inside his office and directs me towards his desk.

"If you two will excuse me, I have a mass to attend."

Miller leaves the room and I slide in behind his desk.

"You told them to meet me here in this office right?"

"Yes sir."

I nod and I manage to not go for my smokes. I don't want to stink up god's house.

"Now...we wait...."

Later...

I look around at the motley crew around me.

"I'd like to welcome you all. I know you're all wondering why you're here, but first off. I'm going to read off your names, rank, and positions if I could..."

I push my glasses back on my face and look down at the wrinkled piece of paper infront of me.

"Bard, Jason Detective Second Class in the Homicide Division. Bullock, Harvey Detective First Class also in the Homicide Division. Merkel, Stanley Seargent amd patrolman. Montoya, Renee Detective First Class in the B&E division. O'Hara, Clancy Officer and resident sharpshooter for the GCPD SWAT team. And Finally, Sawyer, Maggie: Detective Second Class Major Crimes Division..."

I lick my lips and look around the room. Everyone of the officers look at me with strange looks on their faces.

"That all, Gordon?"

"Yeah, Jim. Mind telling us what the hell this is about? Bard and I gotta hit patrol in a half hour."

"Settle down, Harvey. Now, you're all diffrent but, you all have one thing in common. Like me, you're good cops in a corrupt system. I've say by long enough and watched this city be crippled at the hands of the very same people who are suppose to protect it. When I first got to Gotham I was told 'Cops got it made it Gotham' and they do. But, theyve become criminals, which is why I've chosen you. You're uncorruptable...untouchable."

"And what do you plan on doing with us Jim?"

"Well, Sawyer. We're going to work together to take them down."

"Who?"

"The mob, what's left of them...and Loeb..."

After staying quiet for so long, O'Hara finally speaks up. His Irish accent is thick in his speech.

"Ahh, it's treason your planning huh, boyo? Well, how far are you wiling to go?"

"Anything within the law."

"And then what are you prepared to do? If you open the can on these worms you must be prepared to go all the way. Because they're not gonna give up the fight, until either we die or they do."

I rub the back of my neck as O'Hara starts to grill me.

"I don't know how to do it."

"You wanna know how to get to the mob? They pull a knife, you pull a gun. He sends one of yours to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue. That's the Gotham way! And that's how you get them. Now do you want to do that? Are you ready to do that?"

"Will you shut up, O'Hara? This war bull is getting old. Just cause you roll with Branden's stormtrooper brigade doesn't mean you're a soldier."

"You name's Bullock right? Where'd you grow up at?"

Bullock blinks for a second before responding.

"The East End..."

"And what's your real name?"

Harvey smiles as O'Hara keeps on.

"Bullock is my real name..."

"What was your name before you changed it?"

Bullock hesitates for a moment before answering...

"Vincenzo Monjoni..."

O'Hara throws his hands up and shakes his head.

"Saints peserve us! That's all this team needs is a thieving wop bastard!"

In the blink of an eye, Bullock's pulled his pistol and has his sights on O'Hara's chest.

"Alot better than you, you Irish pig...."

"Oh...I like him..."

"Enough, dammit! I want you two to settle down and listen!!!"

Everyone stops and looks at me, I finally give in, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag.

"Now, the key to this is cooperation and teamwork. Alone, we're nothing but twigs in a massive river, but together we can form a dam and stop the flow of corruption this city has been anonimous with..."

Sawyer finally speaks up.

"What do you need from us, Captain?"

"Keep your noses clean, and keep your ears to the ground. Together, we can build a case against the mob and Jillian Loeb and bring her down along with them. If we need to meet, we meet on the roof of GCPD or here. Never inside the bulding. Is that understood?"

The all nod. Bard has a little smile on his face as he talks.

"So, what are we? Supercops? The Untouchables?"

"No, we're just a group of honest cops trying to do our jobs. When you leave, leave one at a time."

O'Hara's the closest to the door so he turns to leave first.

"I hope you know what a blood oath is, ladies and gentlemen. Because, tonight, we just took one."

O'Hara walks out the door and I feel my stomach get cold. His words about them not stopping until we die still ring in my ears....​
 
HAWKMAN100.jpg


Katar Hol's wings pushed against the wind as he slowly approached his apartment, making sure nobody saw him enter.
How body was bruised and his bones ached. For the last 4 weeks he had not slept. He spent every waking hour patrolling the skies of Gotham, righting wrongs wherever they might appear, preventing evil, rescuing the innocent.

He had pulled babies from burning buildings, stopped a bank robber with amazing powers who would have killed someone just as soon as look at them, prevented countless muggings, rapes and murders.
It seemed he had gotten the hang of taking care of other people, at the expense of taking care of himself.

The floor creaked slightly as his feet made contact with it. Katar's bruised hands moved upwards and removed the battered helmet from his head. Underneath, his face was covered in sweat and dried blood. Most of it from other people.
Katar tried heroically to convince himself that he wasn't tired. That he could go on. But, failing, his mouth opened wide as he yawned.
His eyelids felt heavy, his feet almost trembled from the weight of his body and the sensation of his body hitting Carter's bed was the best feeling he had experienced in quite some time.
He felt all the pain and discomfort leave him, his body healing itself faster than any other could.
Relaxation washed over him, but one thought suddenly hit him square in the chest. The realization that, in the last few weeks, he had not thought once about finding Shayera.
He had become obsessed with his new calling. A calling he still had no idea he had any right to attempt to answer.
Katar slowly opened his eyes. He ran his hands through the filthy hair on his head, visualizing Shayera. Her face, her hair, her skin.

He couldn't just put her on hold. What the hell was he doing? Beginning a new life without her? He felt disgusted with himself. It was like he had made peace with the notion of never finding her. Of being alone for the rest of this life.
But what would stop him from doing the same in the lives to come?

No. I have to find you.
But how?
All I've got are hunches and feelings. I have no way of knowing where you are.
Shayera, where are you? Please, just give me a sign.
Please.

Katar finally gave in, his eyes closing as he fell asleep, the sun setting outside his window.

-----

Katar.
Katar, my love.



Wake up.

-------

His eyes shot open. He pushed himself out of the bed and headed directly to the window. Today, just like the many days before it, Katar would soar through the skies, protecting all he could.
But tonight would be the night he would finally being anew his search for --.

As Katar raised his foot and set it on the windowsill, his eyes noticed a waving piece of paper. Laying still, even though the wind furiously blew at it, the note had apparently been blown in through a small crack in the window. It now sat, seemingly refusing to move.

This was it. Katar did not know how, but this had to be it.
A sign.
His hand grabbed the flyer tight and he brought it to his face.
The flyer depicts a joyous celebration for the masses in the opening of Gotham City's newest and largest Catholic cathedral.

The pope is going to be there? If nothing else, this should at least prove to attract homicidal psychopaths with a need for attention.

Katar released his hold on the piece of paper as it flew back out into the air. He picked up his helmet and gently lowered it onto his head, feeling the rush of excitement that had become familiar to him.
Hawkman shot out the window, spread his wings, and headed towards the new church.


 
I float through the blackness of wherever I am, Barry's slowly waking beside me in space.

"Hellooooooo is there anybody in therrreeee??? Just nod if you can hear me?...Is there anyone at home??"

I see Barry's eyes snap open and he starts to look around, his eyes dart to my costume and mask.

"Heh, funny story. I'm a superhero now and we're in some wierd dimension....funny right?"
"...No. Not really. You're going to be grounded so long, your next date will be from the nursing home. Or maybe just send you back to your dad... I think juvie was next in line for you? We'll talk about this after we kick this creep's ass though."

As Barry moved through the void, he noticed he was moving at normal speed.

"Notice that we lost our speed in here though... But I think you had another trick up your sleeve, no?"
 
"...No. Not really. You're going to be grounded so long, your next date will be from the nursing home. Or maybe just send you back to your dad... I think juvie was next in line for you? We'll talk about this after we kick this creep's ass though."

As Barry moved through the void, he noticed he was moving at normal speed.

"Notice that we lost our speed in here though... But I think you had another trick up your sleeve, no?"

I smile and snap my fingers, blue electricity dances off of it and makes a zapping noise.

"Yeah, you could say that I've got a little something-something for this sum *****."
 
Zod sat down on his head ship, over seeing the battle preparations, there next to him were his two field leaders, and close friends, Ursa and Non. These three helped each other in battle many times, Ursa was the bravest of them all, head first and eager, merciless, Non, the weapons scientist and brains of the team. And Zod, their leader, who secretly influenced each decision they made.

Zod looked towards the ongoing battlefield, eager for victory, though he had to have shared leadership with General Rann, a weeping old man who had a reputation for messing attacks like this up.

He pressed the communicator for the nabrouing ship.

[FONT=&quot]“Brainiac, send a communication link to General Rann, thank you!”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
“Accessing General Rann……….accessed, communication reached!”

Brainiac, was Krypton’s new super computer, one of Jor-El’s ancestors over a few years ago invented the system and oddly enough it named it’s self, since then it has been the brain of the planet, and has not had one data mishap in decades since it’s been built.

“Hello, General.”

Just them, a holographic giant head appeared in the ship in front of Zod.
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“General Rann, what’s the update on your position?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
The General sighed.

“We are doing fine, Zod, thank you.”

“Yes, but what about the attack you and I agreed on? What’s the situation because I was curious……”
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
“Listen, Dru-Zod, I have been working in this army for years, I don’t need some rookie General telling me how to do my job, without mass genocide, now I shall contact you if anything happens to us and I expect the same for you, Good day General!”

He disconnected the com link, Zod tightened his fist in anger.

[FONT=&quot]“Non!”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
Yelled Zod, furious at the elder General’s disrespect to him.

[FONT=&quot]“Yes, General?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Remember our, decision earlier on, about General Rann?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]“Yes, do you want me to prepare it now?”[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
“No, not yet, but do get started, I will inform you, when the time is right, We will continue the planned attack, but after, the “sacrifice” I want our plan B to go ahead, inform Ursa, now!”

Non-saluted his general and continued towards Ursa, Zod watched eagerly as the oncoming battle progressed, looking at the data supplied by Brainaic on the computer.

As he watched the his other General’s ship coming towards the base, Zod stood up.

“Slow the ship’s speed down, we’re to close, Non, try to inform General Rann about the danger’s ahead, Ursa, prepare the troops, pilots regenrate the shields to full power, and prepare missiles..”


“But General!”

“Do it!”

Zod sat down on his chair and awaited his easy victory over the terriosts.



General Rann inspected his ship which was coming the opposite way from Zod, he then oversaw the other army ship coming a lot slower then his, confused he went towards his commanders.

“Get General Zod on the comlink and ask him why he’s slowing down!”

All of a sudden the ship went on a black out.

“What’s going…on!”

“Back up power online………”

“Brainiac!” said the aging General, “What’s going o….”

“Back up power offline, requested, by, General Rann.”

“WHAT! NO NO!”

“General, someone has hacked into the ship and now it’s! NO, GENERAL, THE SHIP’S CRASHING INTO THE BASE!”

Startled the General tried desperately to figure out what was going on, but before he could.



Back in Zod’s ship the aging General gave a hidden smirk he then rose up.

“Men! Everyone gather round and prepare yourselves for plan B! I want troops scouting out the remains, Non, send out a small group of fighter jets on the area, I want all the survivors of General Rann’s ship and gather round the terrorists.”

Zod then accessed Brainiac.

“Brainiac, access the Krypton council, I need them urgently!”

“Accesing……………Kandor………Council……………Higher officers…………Accessed.”

“Hello? This General Zod of the Kryptonain amry!”

“Hello Zod, this is Gon-Kol, what is the latest on the attack?”

“Not good, one of them detected our presence and managed to high jack Brainiac in the ship and destroyed all the data on the ship, I’m afraid that General Rann might be dead, in a brave act he steered the ship into the base, I’ve sent as many troops as I could to round them up, I need back up urgently, just in case.”


Gon-Kol sighed.

“Ok, General, I’ll see what we can do, but, I warn you it could take hours before they arrive, so try and fend them off for as long as you can.”

“Thank you, Gon-Kol.”

Gon Kol disconnected, Zod knew that back up would take hours, and if something like this happened, Generals were obligated to contact the Council, this couldn’t work out better for Zod, because now, he knew that most of the terriost threat were killed and his job was easier.

He smiled, just like Zod’s hero Han-Gron would have done.

Zod sat down he only heard a few shots fired in the past two hours, he knew this was no battle, but genocide, and genocide was easier then battle.

All of a sudden a transmission came in.

“General Zod, a transmission has been requested by, Commander, Ursa, would you like to request it, yes, or, no?”

“Yes, please.”

Ursa’s head appeared before Zod.

“Yes Ursa, what is the update?”

“Well General, we lost a few men but we’ve gathered by most of the troops that survived the ship wreck, but we did not find any survivors on General Rann’s ship.”

“Ok, very well, did you find the one they call General Yan-Pol?”

“We have General, would you like to see him now or should we bring him to you?”

“No, I’ll see him now!”

The transmission ended, Zod then rushed to gather some armour and a helmet.

“You too, come with me, we’re going down to the battle field now!”

Zod and his two guards rushed down to the transportation chambers, they travelled via a hover- tank that was safely guarded by a holographic shield, the three men rushed down to the troops down by the battle fields, the tank landed and Zod went towards Ursa.

The two saluted.

“Where is he?”

“Over there, he refused to kneel like the rest, claming he would never kneel before a traitor like Dru-Zod!”

“Ok, I shall speak to him myself!”

Zod went towards Yon-Pol, the famous leader of the poor and oppressed Kryptonains, the council had tried to reason with them, letting them in Kandor, but a small band of them refused.

“Are you the one they call, Yon-Pol?”

He stared at Zod, handcuffed and angered.

“I take that as a yes, and by saying yes, you are guilty of mass genocide against the Kryptonian army, yes?”

He stared at Zod, he then opened his moth.

“I reuse to speak to a TRAITOR like you, you grew up like all these men here, you were deprived of the birthing matrix like the rich scum take pride in! DON’T YOU! You believed in Han-Gron like we all do!”



“I do! But, Han-Gron would never, ever want followers so, stupid as to ATTACK the council when it was THIS powerful, you fool! When he was alive, he attacked them when they were weak, and crumbling, trust me, Han-Gron would never, EVER use your tactics of so-called, fairness; I hate the council JUST as much as you do.

But I’m destroying it from the inside, letting them gain my trust, till eventually I reach to a higher officer, and then, I get rid of the rest, and then Han-Gron’s dream will come true! Fairness, to all of Krypton, but you are stopping me from completing that!”

Zod got his gun out and grabbed Yon-Pol by the through using a tactic to throw him to the ground.

“Kneel before Zod!”

Yon Pol got up on one knee trying desperately to get up but then BANG! He died straight on the ground.

Zod put his hand gun back into his pocket and went to Ursa.

“I want half these soldiers executed right here, the other half I want sent to the ship and awaited for questioning at the council!”

“Yes Sir!”

Zod went back to his tank, his two soliders guided him back as he went up, he then contacted Non.

“Non, I want you to destroy the remains of General Rann’s ship, if either of those two rookies disagree, you know what to do!”

“Yes sir!”

Zod then went back to his ship, Krypton was nearly his, soon they would all kneel before him!
 
ic: Ion
It had come out of nowhere.

As Kyle accompanied his angelic charge on his ascent to the spiritual refuge known as Heaven, the path had crumbled before them. Zauriel had cried out in disgust and astonishment as shafts of darkness lanced out from the sides of the narrow white cavern and enveloped the pair; and moments later, when the shadows finally relinquished their cold grip, they cast glances around - to find themselves in a strange, unfamiliar environment. Zauriel's visage twisted into a sneer as he observed the dangling chains on the walls, heard the tormented cries of unseen beings. Kyle swallowed hard, instinctively driving power to his fists and shielding both himself and his ivory-winged companion. He then moved tentatively forward, as his gaze wandered across the dirty, cobbled walls. Reached upwards and running a gloved hand along the surface, he turned back to Zauriel to enquire as to where they were - only to take a small leap back when he witnessed the raw fury that was tainting his expression. Divine anger was evidently direct and potent, and even the implication of it was terrifying for the young man.

"Is this...Hell?" he mumbled, nervously, attempting to guage the angel's reaction.

"It could be, if I allow it!" Zauriel roared, his voice dark and booming. "Did you truly believe that I did not recognise this place?"

Before Kyle could explain his confusion, Zauriel was hurtling towards him. The Lantern slipped to the side; Zauriel unsheathed his fiery blade and directed it at his opponent. A jet of flame launched itself at Kyle, who deflected it with an energy shield. With a single thought, an emerald fire hydrant shimmered to life in his hand, and he blasted the sword with its imaginary content. The infuriated angel tossed the weapon aside and dived forward -- but then the chains on the walls lashed out and bound him, and Kyle was suddenly back on Oa, the digital imprint of Alan Scott at his side.

"Hello, Kyle. How did your mission go?" he said, friendly as ever.

"...what the @$%£?"
 
(IC: :ww:)

Themyscira is just as beautiful as it has ever been--even moreso, perhaps, now that the reconstruction is nearing completion. As I fly over the city, it's so odd to see men integrated into the rest of society. They had gone through so much suffering under the reign of Circe, and had taken a long time to trust the Amazons again.

Still, my mother the queen has summoned me for a reason, and I doubt it involves the reconstruction. I begin my descent towards the palace, where Philipus and a cadre of Amazon guards await me.

"Welcome back, Diana,"
says my old friend. "We've missed you."

They escort me to the throne room, marching crisply and officiously. Their armor is still brightly polished, and their shields are still immaculately clean, but the Amazons carry no weapons now. It is symbolic of their striving for a peaceful reconcilliation, just as much as it is a safeguard in case the armies fall prey to someone like Circe again.

The great golden doors before us swing open, giving way to the throne room of Queen Hippolyta. She rules proudly once again, no longer a witch's slave, and carries herself thus.


"My daughter," she greets me warmly, "I apologize for interrupting your mission to America after only a day."

"If every day there is like the last one, then perhaps the occasional 'interruption' may be necessary,"
I say with a grin. She does not know yet about my battle against the monster Brainiac.

I tell her of my experience: the swarm of OMACs that darkened the sky, fighting alongside Superman and Batman, the brutality I had suffered at the hands of Brother Eye, the encounter with new faces, and the final confrontation with Brainiac himself. In telling, it is almost impossible to believe the ordeal had only occurred over the course of one day.

"And this Brainiac, he is destroyed?"

"As nearly as I can tell. It was an artificial mind, capable of possessing other machines, so it is possible that he may return in some fashion. If that is the case, my new allies and I will defeat him again."

Mother does not change her expression. She is worried about something, and she acts as if it has to do with Superman and the others.

"Mother, why did you send for me?"

"I needed to tell you two things, which may be of much graver importance than you may think. Firstly...Artemis has escaped."

Artemis. She had led the armies into the men's villages on the far side of the island, and commanded the massacre that took place there. I fought her tooth and nail, and brought her down...but not before she took the life of my father.

Since Circe's defeat, Artemis had been locked away in the strongest prison on the island, but with her enhanced abilities, it was only a matter of time before she would be free.

"I have defeated Artemis before. She is strong, but her rage has made her unstable. I will find her and bring her to justice again."

"Diana, there is more. She has made a bargain with Ares, the god of war. In exchange for her freedom, Ares demands Artemis to kill you. To do so, she has been given a new gift...the blood and claws of the Cheetah."

I nod my head, understanding what must be done. If she has been possessed by the spirit of the Cheetah, she will be faster than before, and more bloodthirsty. The next time Artemis and I cross paths, it may be a fight to the death.

"If Artemis wishes to face me, I am not hard to find. I will take her down, if it comes to that."

Hippolyta smiles weakly. She knows I am strong enough to defeat Artemis. What worries her is if I will eliminate her as I did Circe.

"I have every confidence in you, my daughter. But I have received a message, and it may affect much more than just you. Someone wishes to speak with you personally...at Delphi."

"Delphi...you mean, the Oracle?"

Centuries ago, the Oracle of Delphi was the most revered seer in all the world. Even in more recent years, since man has turned away from the old ways, there are those who still see her words as the absolute. If she wishes to speak with me, then I will go to her.

"Do you know what the Oracle wishes to tell me?"

"I...do. But you must hear the prophecy yourself."

There is suddenly a terrible sadness in Mother's eyes. Something in the prophecy must have pained her greatly.

"Thank you, Mother. I will do as you say."

Were there no one around to observe, I would do what I could to comfort her. But my mother is Queen, and must look strong at all costs. As the champion of Themyscira, so must I. The island has gone through so much, it must be able to believe in the strength of its leaders.

And so I turn away, heading back through the hallways that lead me outside of the palace. I will not stay here long. I must know the Oracle's prophecy...

...and deal with it to whatever end.
 
After e-mailing the draft of his report on the OMAC invasion to the Editor in Chief, Clark sat back in his chair and smiled as he drank from a warm mug of coffee. He knew better than to call Lois to confirm their dinner date at a time like this, while she was busy on her own story, this time involving Luthor. Before Brainiac's plot, Clark had always doubted Lois' suspicions of Lex's criminality; because Luthor had offered so much help to Superman; but now Clark was certainly just as suspicious, if not moreso, than Lois. He would have to start his own unofficial investigation, on the side of his other assignments.

~Superman.~

Puzzled at the voice calling him, Clark put down his coffee and looked around the office. Everyone else in the city room of the Planet appeared to be doing the same thing. Clark wasn't the only one hearing the voice. Feeling like fool, he finally realized that the voice was coming from his computer. On every monitor in the room, a shadowy face appeared. ~Superman, Blackrock wants you dead. Come out and play.~ Once it was done, the message looped and replayed itself over and over again and constantly shifting in sound and video quality.

"What the hell is going on?!" yelled Perry White as the Editor in Chief exploded out of his office.

Another staff member, whose name Clark hadn't quite gotten around to learning yet, covered the mouthpiece of the phone in his hand and spoke to his boss, "Chief, it's not just happening here; it's happening on every TV and computer screen in the city. I'm getting a dozen calls abou-- what the...?" A sudden confused expression came over the face of the man talking to Perry before he hesitantly put the phone down. "Uhh... Blackrock's message is playing over the phone now too."

"Great Caesar's Ghost!" exclaimed Perry. "Someone get on this! Where's Lane and Kent?"

Jim Olsen ran up to White excitedly. "Lane's working on her Luthor story, Chief. As for Mr. Kent..." Olsen looked towards Clark's work station and paused, "...I... don't know."

**********​

Superman swept through the skies at blinding speeds, scanning every inch of the buildings and streets along the way. He had hoped that Blackrock would be somewhere waiting for him, but Clark was already losing some of that hope.

WAAAACK!

Something struck Superman hard on the back of the head and sent him spiraling through the air and smashing through the corner of the wall of a nearby building. Recovering himself, Superman stopped moving through the air and looked at what had hit him.

clark025se5.jpg

"Peter, whatever's wrong, I can help you."

Floating before Superman was Dr. Peter Silverstone, now wearing the costume that he had worn before, when he was a fellow superhero and friend to the Man of Steel. "Go pound sand," he hissed as a beam of concentrated black energy erupted from his eyes.
 
Giganta

Doris drives down the Streets of Metropolis looking up at the Skyscrapers.

She smiles every now and then.

There is a pretty intoxicating feeling knowing that at any point I can grow tall enough to look down on those things.

She continues driving down the streets and notices an article on Superman on the front page of the Daily Planet while at a stop-light.

Oh I can't wait to meet you Superman...I have many ideas about you and they all include your demise and me taking over this town.

Doris arrives at her loft and begins working out.

If I am going to have any chance against Superman I need to be in peak-condition.

She begins increasing her reps and growling like a caged animal
 
gordonop9.png


I knock on the door and stick my head through the threshold.

"You wanted to see me, mam?"

Jillian Loeb looks up from painting her nails to motion me in.

"Yes, Jim. Come on in."

I sit down and reach for my cigarettes. Loeb's quick to respond.

"Now, Jim. If there's one thing I can't tolerate, it's cigarette smoke."

I sigh as I leave them in my shirt pocket. A smoke really would help me take in all the tacky pop-art around her office and that horrible smelling eucalyptus potpourri.

"What did you want to talk about, Jill?"

She blows on her nails before talking.

"Well, Jim. I've made a decision recently. I'm moving you to the night shift and Flass to the day shift. I'm also promoting him to Watch Commander."

I feel my heart rate rise. Flass was my original partner when I became a detective. Guy was a two-bit thug who shook down anybody for the change in their pockets. I told Internal Affairs about him, my reports got ignored and finally I was told to drop it. That was my first taste of the "Gotham way".

"That all, Jill?"

"No, actually. I wanted to talk to you about some compalints I've been getting."

"How so?"

"Internal Affairs have been getting some complaints about some officers. Tell me, do you know Harvey Bullock? Jason Bard? Renee Montoya? and Clancy O'Hara?"

I feel my stomach go cold and my mouth go dry. I need a smoke now more than ever.

"I know of them. They work in diffrent departments. I've worked with Harvey and Montoya on diffrent cases before. Not sure about Bard, but O'Hara works with Branden and SWAT, or so I thought."

There's a silence of about thirty seconds as Loeb stares at me. I'd feel better about toughing out a nicotine fit if I didn't have to smell that stinky potpourri.

"Okay, just wondering. The boys in IA have been hearing rumors about those officers as well as two under your watch. Maggie Sawyer and Merkel. I'd like for you to keep an eye on them for me."

She smiles a ****-eating grin as I nod.

"I'll do that, mam."

"Okay, Jim. You can get back to work now."

I walk out the door, the cigarette is already lit by the time I shut her office door.


Later that night....

I stifle a yawn as I walk through the police station parking lot. My car's only a few spots away when I hear a voice off in the distance...

"Late night, Captain?"

I turn to see four men standing in the shadow's baseball bats in their hands.

"Only going to get later."

They're on me in a flash, I manage to grab one of the men's baseball bat, only to be hit from behind my two more.

My glasses fly off into the darkness as I drop to my knees. I curl up into a ball as the bats bruiseand pummel my body.

After awhile, my body starts to go numb from pain and they stop. I hear a dumb chuckle in the darkness that I know belongs to Flass.

"Well, Jimbo. I'd say you're very touchable..."

The bats drop as they walk away into the darkness. I'm not sure of what I've broken or what's bleeding. I'm only sure of one thing....

That I've got a rat in my group.


 
hmav2.jpg

Rex Tyler: Hourman
Season II - Part 2


Rex sat in his lab, staring at the formula for his miracle drug. Hundreds of tiny figures were strewn across his computer monitor, burning themselves into his retinas. He just couldn't crack the damn thing...

"Tyler!"

Rex's head shot up as his boss, Victor Bannermain, approached him. Rex quickly closed his formula and tried to look relaxed.

"Uh... hey, Victor! What's up?"

"I've got some exciting news for you, Tyler! I think you'll really like this!"

Immediately, Rex knew he wasn't going to like it. Not one bit.

"Um... okay..."

"You know that drug you eggheads have been working on for the past year and a half? The uh... whatchamacallit... Cancer Blocker?"

"What about it?"

Victor hands over a thick manilla folder.

"It's been approved for human testing. Congratulations!"

"Approved for...?"

Rex began looking through the folder, a look of disbelief on his face.

"This can't be! It... it's not ready! We never even applied for human tes--"

"I applied. It's been long enough. The drug is as ready as it ever will be."

"No. No it's not! Some of the side-effects might be... oh my God, they'd be monstrous! You can't do this!"

Victor Bannermain rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"Look, Tyler... I thought you might react like this, so I pulled a few strings and guess what? You are personally going to be in charge of selecting the test subjects. You'll have complete control, therefore, you'll be able to make sure things are done according to your lofty standards."

"No! I'm not doing that! You can't make me! It's sick! You want me to send these people to their deaths!"

"They're dying anyway, Tyler! This is their best chance!"

"Not yet, it's not! It's not ready! Don't you understand?"

Victor Bannermain slammed his fists down on the table and thrust his face to within an inch of Rex's.

"Listen to me, you little punk! If these drugs you keep producing are so harmful, then maybe you should work a little harder and improve the damn things!"

"You're not giving me enough time!"

"Bull! That's not the problem! That problem is that you're usually too busy having sex with prostitutes and dropping acid to focus on your work!"

That silenced Rex.

"You're going to go into that file and select ten people for the human tests. I want their names by the end of the day. Don't give me any more reasons to fire you."

As Victor turned to leave, Rex called out to him.

"It's wrong, Victor. These are sick, desperate people. Can't you see that?"

Victor paused in the doorway.

"The only sick, desperate person here is you."

Then, Victor left Rex alone to play executioner.
 

IC:
desperobannerpic.jpg

There were countless boomings and other massive sounds of destruction taking place in the world just outside of the prison Despero as of late has known as his 'home'. Held in solitary confinement seemed to be more blissful to the ears as he began to witness and hear the sounds of what seems to be a massive attack on the Green Lantern Corps.

Despero doesn't worry about the situation too much. If anything, it helps him even further. Although, should the unknown invaders take conquest and destory the Corps themselves, Despero would not take the idea joyfully. The destruction of the Corps was for him and him alone; one of the many tasks he has already laid out for himself once he finds his glorious Flame.

Despero looks to his side, as the mesmerized Tomar-Re runs beside him through the debris and surroundings of battle. He smirks, and his third eye glows intensively, and Tomar-Re sprints ahead.

"Make the way clear. I do not wish to waste anymore time on this wretched planet. Slay all and any that try to impose any kind of constraint against me."

"Yes, my master."

Again, Despero smirks. They run through the battlefield, and it is now that Despero sees the cause of the attack: The Manhunters. Galactic contract killers, driven only by the amount paid by their programmers to do a coward's bidding. Manhunters...Despero hates them almost as much as he hates the Green Lantern Corps. If their programmers were really so great and powerful, they would do the job themselves. And yet they turn to their precious machines. The idea of a Manhunter crossing paths with Despero fills his cold heart with joy as he ponders the means of disposing of such scrap metal.

"Despero's getting away! Guys, we have to--AH!"

A green beam from Tomar-Re strikes the Green Lantern, knocking him down to the ground. As Tomar-Re continues to do Despero's will, keeping his path clear, Despero stops in his trails as he approaches the descended Lantern. Instantly, the Lantern raises his ringwearing arm towards Despero at pointblank.

"Stay back, monster! You are a prisoner of the Green Lantern Corps. And I'll be damned if I let you escape!"

Despero's mouth widens with glee as he moves in closer to the Lanter, as he cautiously tries to crawl backward, keeping his arm on his wrist, attempting ot keep his arm steady. A green light flickers on the young Lantern's ring, but it doesn't stop Despero from moving in any closer. A few other Green Lanterns hover towards the two, and the young Lantern looks more confident.

This does not last too long. All of a sudden, one of the floating Lanterns is strike behind by a green construct of a bull, with one of the horns impaling his chest, and the other turns to respond to the hostile attack. Despero opens his mouth, breathing heavily over the young Lantern as if about to eat his head off; he whispers to him instead.

"Then I guess you are damned."

The Lantern's confident, yet scared look becomes a shocked one with horror, and Despero, with one swipe beheads the Lantern. The blood spews everywhere and Despero stands up, howling like some savage monster. Tomar-Re struggles to fight the more experienced Lantern, but Despero grabs her by the leg, and pulls her down, her body crushing into the rocks. He starts to pound her deeper and deeper into the ground, her green aura protecting her fading more and more with each blow.

And then, the aura was gone.

Despero stands up straight, stretching his back as it cracks, and cracks his knuckles. He looks over Tomar-Re, and laughs as he looks at the yellow glowing eye above his forhead.

"This has been fun, young Tomar-Re. We must do this again sometime. Although, I'm afraid we may not get the chance. What, with you facing the penalties for slaying your own Corps members. Oh, if only I could see the face on Ganthlet when he learns of this."

Despero runs out into the distance, and is long gone when the yellow glowing third eye on Tomar-Re fades away. Tomar-Re drops to his knees from the strain of being let go of Despero's will. In horror he looks around him as he is practically bathed in blood; the blood of his own Corps members. He stands up, looking at the blood on his ring, almost preventing from the glow shining brightly, and screams towards the sky as it all comes together in his mind.

"NOOOOOOOOO!!!"
 
gordonop9.png


I tell Sarah and Barbara that I had a scuffle with a perp last night. They believed it. Flass and his boys beat me, but they did just enough to keep me out of the hospital.

"Captain Gordon?"

I look up from the file I'm reading, it's marked H. Dent

"Yes?"

"Got a package for ya."

The uniform cops hands me a manila folder and I start to open it.

"What is it?"

He laughs as I rip it open and stare at the picture, my jaw unhinges and almost slams onto my desk.

"Yep. Seems one of your little buddies is a bona fide fruit. Gayer than a two dollar bill. A ***...."

My eyes slit as I look up at him.

"Who gave you this?!"

"Don't worry, Captain. We got our sources, just make sure you check on your own people before you act all high and mighty."

He walks off smiling as I just stare at the picture in shock....

That Night.....

I take a long drag off my cigarette and look out into the night. The GCPD roof has one of the best views in all of town.

"I'm glad you could join me here tonight. I wanted to talk to you about something..."

I look over at the figure in the shadows, I dig into my pocket for the picture the cop gave me.

"We've got a rat inside our group. I was attacked last night and now they're blackmailing you. A police officer came to me today with a folder...They've got pictures of you. It's shocking, I mean never in a hundred years would I think of you..."

Harvey Bullock finally steps forward from the shadows, he takes the photo in my hands of him and another man holding each other in the gotham street lights.

"Jim...I...I never..."

"How long have you been like this...I mean...."

"How long have I been a ***?"

"I don't mean it like that..."

"Yes you do. I'm use to it, Jim. That's why I changed my name. After my parents found out, my mom just cried and blamed herself, my dad just stood there, didn't say a word...they disowned me and told me that I was going to burn in hell. I've always been like this. When most boys hit puberty and start to like girls, I always liked boys. I like sports and working on cars, I just also like guys."

I walk up to him and pat his back.

"It's okay, Harvey. I don't care what you do after hours or who you do it with. As long as you're a good cop and show up to do the job."

Harvey smiles and wipes a small tear from his eyes.

"Thanks, Jim. That means alot."

"Who all knows about it?"

"Besides you?...umm...Montoya and I think Jason is suspicious. He's a detective and my partner after all."

I nod as I finish my smoke and stomp it out.

"Like I said, we've got a rat in our group. Someone is selling us out. Flass attacked me last night and now what's going on with you."

"C'mon, Jim. We all know who's doing it."

"O'Hara? No. It's too sneaky for him. He'd be the type to post it in the break room for everybody to see..."

"It's not Jason...the kid is too honest to do something like this."

"That just leaves Montoya...."

Harvey and I start to leave the roof, I open the door and he walks in ahead of me.

"So...no feelings at all towards women?"

"Yep. Jason is always worried that I'll hit on his girlfriend, Dinah whenever she's around.."

"Well, as long as you don't hit on me. I'll be fine."

"Don't worry, I'm not too down with the swirl...."


 
The Atom makes it back to her apartment and returns to normal size.

Rhiannon feeds her cat and fixes a bowl of microwave popcorn.

Ahhh not exactly Wayne Manor but it's cozy enough for me.

Just then her phone rings and she sees it's Dr. Clayton Forrester head of HR at Star-Labs.

She answers, "Yes Dr. Forrester?"

He replies, "Rhiannon I am calling because we have been contacted by the Mayor's office in light of the recent invasion."

Rhiannon asks, "What's up?"

Clayton replies, "Well a sizable portion of the Police department has been heavily affected by the aftermath of the invasion. Whether it's dealing with being a robotic creature or helping loved ones who were they are seriously understaffed right now. The Mayor is requesting we spare one or two of our scientists to do some free-lancing in the forensics and crime-lab temporarily. You're my first choice. Now you would still make your regular salary plus a little more since this above and beyond the call of duty. Are you interested?"

Rhiannon replies, "Sure when do I start?"

Clayton says, "Excellent I'll call the Mayor's office and tell them you're going. You will probably start tomorrow if I don't call you later report tomorrow at 8am."

Rhiannon says, "Look forward to it thank you Dr. Forrester."

He says, "No Rhiannon thank you. I'll talk to you later good-night."

Rhiannon replies, "Good night" and hangs up.

She then dials Rachel Dawes and tells her what is happening.

Rachel says, "If you end up working a lot with Gordon you'll really learn a lot about the life of a cop. He is one of the best if not the best they've got. A true credit to the force. Don't let the occasional gruffness fool you. He's by the book to be sure but he never forgets the human element involved in police work. From the cops who work for him down to the victims. Bottom line is this about Jim Gordon; if you're honest with him and work-hard for the department he'll go through a wall for you."

Rhiannon says, "Thanks Rach I'll keep it in mind."

The talk for a few more minutes and Rhainnon hangs up.

Looks like I better get some rest got a big day tomorrow...then again when you can shrink to 6" inches everyday is a big day.
 
Black Mask

Black Mask sat at his desk, intently watching a couple of snails he'd found, race each other across the oak surface. With a sigh he brought up a small hammer, and crushed both of them with one swipe.

"Entertainment fit for a frenchman," he muttered. He was bored. That was always the problem with office jobs wasn't it? Boredom. He'd done all his work, and he'd set up his empire so efficiently, that it now ran without him. All those millions and nothing to do with them. And he hadn't been able to find any leads on Jarvis' fishnet clad ****e either. The one that had seemingly stopped time. Roman was having trouble figuring that one out. Didn't seem logical, or probable. Hey, maybe it was magic, who knows. And then he was saved by boredom, as his secretary came through the door.

"Mr. Mask? Apparantly there's a problem with the little task you sent the Tally Man on,"

"And what would that be Betty? As you know I'm a deeply busy man," Roman said, casually making a paper aeroplane. He'd been so bored one afternoon that he'd looked up paper aeroplanes on Wikipedia. He was now an expert. Did you know that Professor Ninomoya, of Japan, developed in the late 1970's a type of advanced paper aircraft? These models are available for purchase as the 'White Wings' Series of paper glider packs. Today they are most readily available from online bookstores such as Amazon.com, as well as many others. Fascinating. Please dear god let there be a big problem with the Tally Man.

"Apparantly Mr. Blake escaped, sir. The Tally Man and his men were killed in an explosion at Mr. Blake's mansion. I'm told that his butler was killed too," she said nervously.

"What? He brought his butler with him on a mission? How much of a cowboy is this Tally Man?" Roman exploded. Betty shied away.

"No sir. Mr. Blake's butler sir," she said nervously.

"Oh right...well...that's ok then. Where's Blake now Betty?" Black Mask said, standing up.

"Reports say that he has rented a small appartment in down-town Gotham sir. Star Apartments sir," she said.

"Jesus, I was just over there yesterday. Any more going back and forth, I'll turn into a yo-yo," Roman said, smiling. Betty looked at him blankly.

"That was a joke. You can laugh," he said coldly. She gave a horrible, forced laugh. "Much better. Now, I'm going out," he said, and walked towards the carpark where his Mercedes was.

A short trip through the Gotham streets later, where Roman only killed five people through road rage...

Black Mask knocked on the apartment door, holding a bunch of black roses in his hands. The door opened a crack, revealing a bruised face and a broken nose.

"Who's there- oh crap," Tom Blake said, looking at Black Mask's horrible visage.

"Hi, Blakey baby. Mummy's home," he said with a twisted grin, and kicked the door in. Tom fell back. He was dressed in a vest and shorts, and looked like he hadn't shaved for a while. The apartment smelt faintly of booze.

"Oh Tommy, you've let yourself go while I've been gone haven't you?" he said, punching Tom in the stomach, making him double over.

"Go to hell," Tom spat. He rugby tackled Black Mask to the ground, mounting him, and hitting his face.

"Not so rough baby," he said, kneeing Tom somewhere delicate. He gasped, as Black Mask brought him to his knees, and began slapping him round the face. Tom spat blood onto the floor, as Roman reached into his jacket and brought out his favourite buck knife.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" he growled.

"You're a dead man, my friend," he laughed, slapping him with the hand not holding the knife.

"Wrong again Black Mask," he said, with a grin too big for someone who knew they were about to die. Normally when people saw Roman they ran away screaming, or broke down into tears. He was disconcerted.

"Who are you then? Hawkman?" he asked smiling. Tom shook his head.

"I'm someone who's done a little digging. I'm someone who knows who you are Roman Sionis," he said. The grin on Black Masks face vanished.

"Oh like I know nothing about you. Still go around in an orange suit and call yourself Catdude? What are you ******ed?" he asked, raising the knife high.

"THE NAME IS CATMAN," Tom shouted, grabbing Black Mask around his waist, and jumping out the small apartment window, pushing Roman before him. They landed in a small pile of garbage. Roman stood first, and lifted Tom out of it, before throwing him across the street. People started screaming and running away, shouting for the police. Roman raised a gun. It was an un-dignified way to finish an enemy, but he was pissed now.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. And believe me, my friend, you're going to be sleeping for a very long time," he said, raising his pistol.
 
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I'm beginning to think there's no limit to the madness that plagues Gotham.

Minutes after leaving Gordon to his thoughts, I make my way back into town, putting The Batmobile's engines to the test every step of the way. My first instinct is to check back with Rachel, and see if she's uncovered anything about the riddle that Alfred's kidnapper left behind. But I'm hesitant, both in refusing to take that action, and taking it. I know if I leave the streets for even an instant, I'm providing criminals like Harve-...Two-Face, and The Joker, the perfect opening for another moralless display of chaos and murder. But it's in thinking of their madness that provides me with an answer to what I must do now.

The Batmobile turns onto Sprang Avenue, and rockets towards the back alleyways leading towards the Police Department. A risk, naturally, given what Gordon said about a task force being issued with the sole purpose of my capture... but I have to take it. I'm sick of pondering in the dark about this... I have to know. I have to know what The Joker's game really is, and how to beat it. And I know just how I'm going to recieve such information...

"JESUS CHRIST!"

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I step out of the shadows, letting the low growl I opened with set in, as the thug infront of me nearly falls out of his chair. I had to do research through the file cabinent a floor below, before making my way in here, but I was in luck... The police managed to uncover and arrest one of The Joker's hired help, during the Gotham Square massacare last night. He's refused to talk, thus far, despite being in interrogation for a considerable number of hours. And from listening to the conversations downstairs, as I worked through his file, it doesn't seem like he's going to be spilling his guts anytime soon.

To a cop, at least.

"W-W... What do ya want?", He asked, petrified. "Ya ain't allow in here! I got rights!"

I grab him by the shirt, forcibly pulling him out of the interrogation chair. His face goes white.

"I couldn't give a damn about your 'rights'!", I argue, angrily. "The deal is this. You give me information, and you walk out of here intact."

His eyes droop, as he nearly passes out. I shake him, once, to remind him that he's still with me. And to remind him who's in control, right now.

"W... What if I don't?", He boldly asks, clearly regretting to do so.

I throw him over the table, and he falls, clearly startled and surprised. Were anyone aware that I was down here, I'd surely be thrown into Arkham for this. But I've taken the precautions. He's going nowhere until I get the answers I need.

"AGH! GUARDS! GUARDS!", He shouts at the walls, desperately pleading for an escape that will never come.

"They can't hear you.", I say, putting enough emphasis on each word to convince him I'm not lying. "Every door in this hall has been manually locked. And the walls are too thick."

"But... But the cameras..."

"On a loop.", I cut in. "As far as they're concerned, you're sitting in your cell as contempt as you were a moment ago."

I grab him again, and force him to the nearest wall.

"It's just you and me.", I continue, enraged. "Do you understand?!"

He slowly nods.

"What do you-"

"Your boss.", I reply. "I want to know everything. His name, his plans... everything he's ever whispered to you."

"He hasn't told us anything!"

I pull him closer, with a sneer.

"I hope you don't expect me to believe that."

"It's true!", He continues. "Joker never says anything to anybody. He just tells us what we're gonna do, and how we're gonna do it!"

"The massacre in Gotham Square,", I begin, pinning him harder to the wall. "You had no prior knowledge?!"

"N-No!", He whimpers back, scared out of his mind. "We were all shocked. He just handed us our guns and masks, and told us we were throwing a party! I don't even think he really planned it!"

I feel his pulse without even trying. He's telling me the truth. And it's just as I feared... The Joker's pattern really is randomized. He isn't attacking anyone with a clear vendetta or a logical motive... he's attacking them for the thrill of chaos, in his own twisted logic. He has to be stopped, now, more than ever.

"Where is he, you slime?!", I yell, throwing him onto the floor. "Where has he been taking you?!"

"AGH! I... I dunno! He doesn't trust us!", He pleads, placing his hands over his head. "He tints the windows in all our getaway vans! Drives us to the places we end up himself! He doesn't want anyone to know what he's doing, ever!"

I stand over the thug, ready and willing to break a given number of his bones. What he and his associates have done, in a span of months, is enough to infuriate anyone with a clear concience. But I don't cross that unessacary line... he isn't worth the time or the patience. His employer, however, is a different story.

"If you're ever contacted by him, I want you to give him a message for me...", I begin, slamming my boot onto his back, so he's pinned to the ground. "There is absolutely no limit I am willing to conform to in order to take him, and every one of his followers down. And when I do... I'm throwing you in whatever hole he's dug into with him. Do you understand me?!"

The thug painfully nods, as I release my boot. I hear footsteps outside. Slinking back into the shadows, I manage to make an exit back out of the room, by the time the interrogation officers return. The thug, however, never stops shaking. And he never says a word. Because he knows, from our brief encounter... that the moment he talks, I'll be back. And he definitely doesn't want that again.

"Rachel. Any luck on the message?"

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The Batmobile rockets away from the Police Department alleys, and in seconds, takes me back to Gotham Square, heading into the East End. I feel like I'm going in circles, searching for all three of these madmen. But it doesn't stop me for even a moment. Alfred's life... and Gotham's, as much as I hesitate to imagine, hangs in the balance with every passing moment. I can only hope I've entrusted the right people to help me along the way.

"I wish I could say so, Bruce, but no. Nothing yet. I've had everything done to it from handwriting matches to fingerprint analysis, but there's nothing substantial on either fronts. And my resources can only go so far..."

"I understand.", I admit, with despair. "I can't thank you enough for the effort, at least."

"I guess. But I have to be realisitc... failed effort isn't going to find Alfred. Or solve whatever this riddle means."

I think, for a moment. In the rush to find who sent the note, aswell as the hysteria in Alfred's search, I payed little attention to it's actual contents. Perhaps...

"Read the message for me."

"What?"

"It may be all I can do, right now.", I continue, with an off look. "But it'll be something."

"I can involve Cards, Cars, and Captains. What am I?"

My thoughts go in every which way, trying to deciepher the clues. Cards and Captains indicate some sort of game, to me... like poker, or any variety found in a casino. But it's the cars part that leads me to believe that 'Casino' isn't the answer. I could go as far to say that it means a Ferry, of some sort, given that would involve a captain and it's cars, but there are no cards to be spoken of. Captains... Captains, things that need to be captained. Something involving cards and...

Wait. Cards. Not the term for a game, but the term for a...

The tires on The Batmobile screech to a halt, as I turn the wheel, and make a U-Turn at the nearest crossing. The minute I position myself back onto the road, I floor the acceleration, and hang on for dear life as the car explodes into the city, once more, heading for the opposite direction. Cards, Cars, Captains... why didn't I see it before?

"Bruce, what the hell is going on?"

"Think about the clues, Rachel.", I respond, manouvering The Batmobile onto Loeb Road. "Cards, cars, and captains. Where do you find a car?"

"On a road?"

"Close. Where is a captain usually located?"

"A ship? A police department? Maybe-"

There's a pause on the other line.

"A bridge..."

"Yes,", I answer. "Alfred's being held hostage at The Gotham Bridge. And I was being told that the entire time..."

"But why would he give you a direct clue like that? Does he want to be caught?"

My foot jams the accleration once more, as I cross into another lane, and rocket towards the Bridge.

"That's what I intend to find out."

Enough of this madness. Alfred, I'm coming for you... and the man who's tried to play a game with both of us.
 
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I only stare at the file on my desk. Name Uknown is written at the top of it, but everyone knows who's file it is.​

The anarchist who blowed into town like a chaotic whirlwind. The Joker.​

"Jim?"

"Yeah, Maggie?"

"You're um....you're spilling coffee on your pants."

That's when I realize that there's a whole in the bottom of my coffee mug that's allowed coffee to drip all over my pants for the last five minutes.​

"**** You got a napkin or something?"

"Here."

I take the napkin and start to wipe my pants. They'll probably be stained.​

"You alright? You seem to be a bit out of it lately."

I chalk it up to my double duties. Loeb has me on all the night shift and half the day shift. I barely see Sarah or Barbara. I feel like I'm a zombie at times. And the fact that Arkham's most dangerous criminals are out on the street and are actually working together contributes to alot of my sleeplessness.​

"Yeah, Maggie. I'm fine. I just need a good night of sleep."

"Well, we have to go to S.TA.R. Labs. We're suppose to meet that Palmer woman. Loeb pulled some strings and she got one of their scientist to help out with forensics. We're going to use her today. A uniform called in. We've got a shooting outside a night club."

I slip my coat on and grab my pack of cigs.​

"Lets roll."

S.T.A.R. Labs
Twenty Minutes Later

After Maggie and I flash our badges, the receptionist runs off to find Dr. Palmer.​

"Just wait here, I'll get her."​

I go to light a cigarette and she holds her hand out.​

"Sir, there's no smoking allowed in here."​

I kill the light and shove the lighter and cigarette back in my pockets.​

What a country.​
 
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