The "World of Heroes" DC RPG Season VII

[Catman_prb]

"Yo Malone, you're getaway driver," Frankie shouted.

"Do I get keys?" Monk asked, hands stuffed inside his leather jacket. Frankie laughed loudly.

"Improvise kid," Tony said as he and Frankie walked into the warehouse. Monk shrugged and followed them inside, drawing up the collar of the jacket.

It was pitch inside the warehouse; so presumabley it was unguarded. Tony managed to find the light switch and flicked it on. Strip lights sparked alight, illuminating the entire building. There were large stacks of crates lining the walls and centre of the warehouse, except for one that lay unstrapped near the door.

"Okay, this is it. Open it up," Frankie announced. Tony stepped forwards with a crowbar, and wrenched a side off of the wooden box. A large pile of guns slid out.

"We're gun running?" Monk said, eyes widening.

"Kid you're too deep to be running now," Frankie said.

"Whatever," Monk said, shrugging. Their conversation was interupted by a loud siren wailing from the road in front.

"****," Tony said "It's the cops,"

Frankie grabbed Monk by the jacket and slammed him into the wall. He knew a dozen ways to get out of this, four of them lethal. He resisted.

"What the **** did you do?" he screamed.

"Nothing, I swear!" Monk said, struggling to get out of Frankie's grasp. The black man dropped him, and pulled a pistol of his hoodie.

"Get down on your knees and put your hands behind your head," the police shouted inside.

"I am not goin' down like this," Frankie said, holding his gun in a shaking hand.

Monk turned his head. He had heard a footstep from the side door. A policeman trying to flank them. He walked over towards the door and peered outside. A young, red haired cop was standing there, holding a pistol with sweaty palms. Monk paused for a second, he had to make this look unproffesional. Then he swung out with a heavy blow that landed on the young cop's temple. He fell to the floor with a gasp, gun clattering to the floor.

Firing erupted from both sides, almost at the same time. Monk hissed and picked up the pistol, running around the side of the building for cover. He was surprised to see that there were only two squad cars; back up must be pending. He had to act quick.

He pointed the pistol at the first squad car, firing blindly. A couple of bullets went wide, but three more accurate shots hit an officer in the leg. Monk dropped the gun as it ran out of ammunition and jumped over the top of a squad car, landing with a kick to another cop which sent him sprawling. He span and punched the other in the jaw, breaking it and sending him flying.

Monk jumped into the squad car, the keys still in the ignition. He turned off the siren and rolled the window down.

"All clear," he shouted. Tony and Frankie came running out.

"Got your ride as well," he said coolly as they approached.

"A cop car?" Frankie said blankly, staring at him. Then a smile lit up his face "I ****ing love this kid!"

 

[Saved]

HUSH​

I sit in my chair, in my new hideout, working out my new plans. For the past year, I've been silent, building up my connections and waiting for the perfect opportunity. It's mostly been a success, except for...​

One Week Ago​

"Would you like to see my instrements, old friend?" I asked him after I pistol-whipped him for the twelth time. If I hit him any more with it, his face would have been crushed, and I didn't want to do that so early. It was getting boring anyway. ​

I walk behind him, strapped in his hospital bed--so helpless, so completely and utterly at my mercy--and picked up an old-fashioned doctor's bag. I placed the bag on the wooden, movable table on the bed and opened it up, revealing all my tools. I take them out and tell the man their names.​

The stethascope.​

The tongue compressors.​

The needles.​

The drugs.​

"And, my personal favorite," I say, pulling it out, "the scalpel." I gripped it firm in my hand and slashed at the right side of the man's face. He bit his tongue so that he wouldn't cry. Perfect. I like it when they play "hard to get." ​

"You remember this one, don't you, my friend?" I took the scalpel, fresh with his blood, over to the other side of his face and so softly scratched at the other side of his face--his perfect side of his face. "You were out cold when you two met, but you remember what you saw after the Scalpel and I were finished, don't you? I still consider it some of my finest work--plastic surgery was never my strongest area, but, I guess I was inspired that day. ​

"I took your...grotesque features, and I created beauty there again." My hand shook and the Scalpel started to go into my friend's untouched side. "Beauty." I thought of that concept--what I did to change my friend's life, what I would do with my Scalpel later, and the Scalpel dug deeper into the man's skin. "They say that it is far easier to destroy then create. Let's find out, shall we?" ​

I pulled the Scalpel out of my friend's face and wiped the blood off with his white sheets. I got close to his face and smiled under my bandages.​

"I'm going to do what I did before, my friend--my betrayer--my dear Harvey." I sliced again at his unscarred side, on his cheek. ​

"I'm going to make both sides match."​

Two Face​

My breath slows a bit, and my chest seems to relax ever so slightly. As I feel the blood begining to drip from my wounds, I feel a weird sensation come over my body. As he holds the blood scalpal above my face, his head inches from mine, a smile comes across my face. I see his face, how serious and insane he looks right now. I can't resist.

"Hahahahaha." I laugh, scoffing at him. "Still upset about my double crossing you, aren't you, Tommy?" I ask him, emphasing his name, making it an insult. He scowls at me as I mock him, his anger rising as his mind begins to go crazy.

I pull at my restraints, jerking my arms quickly, hoping to break free. I feel pain in my joints as I pull, giving it my all. As I try, I soon realize it is futile. He has me strapped down tight. I'm trapped.

Quickly, my mind begins to formulate ideas, escapes. My guns are gone; dropped when he ambushed me. As I look around the room, my eyes search for something, anything I can use. As they look around and scope the area, I keep coming back to Hush's face. I can see him steaming, his body filled with anger, his soul screaming for revenge. He plans to kill me tonight. I know it.

I stare at him, looking at the gauze wrapped loosely around his face. It's not neat like before. Not tight, not careful. No, it's all shoddy. Slapstick, done in a hurry. It appears he has better things to do than worry about an appearance.

Even behind his mummy-like mask, I can still see his expression. He's fuming. In my experiance, the angrier a man gets, the more he'll be likely to draw out his revenge. If I can keep him furious, I might be able to by some time. I don't know what I'm stalling for, but it's worth a shot. I've got a chance. 50/50.

"You know, Tommy," I start, stretching my body as I try to loosen my restraints. "Look at me. I'm hideous. Half of me is ugly, and deformed. But, I show it. Now, look at you." I say to him with a deep voice, focusing in on his eyes. "You wear gauze around your face to hide yourself. You demean me as the scum, Tommy, but really? You're the one who doesn't have the stones to show who he really is." As he growls in anger, I keep my cool and stay in control.

"This city is mine, Elliot. Because I'm not afraid to show my face. I'm not scared to hide what I am."

 

[Batman]

"What's the situation, Lieutenant?"

Renee Montoya lowered the binoculars from her face, in response to Commissioner Gordon's question. Her expression put forth a determined cop, the one that Gordon had put back on the force just over a year ago... but inside, she was more than a little worried for the hostages that were being held at gunpoint by the suspects. She couldn't help but slip her tough-as-nails exterior for even the slightest moment, as she looked towards the surveying Commissioner.

"We're in the process of establishing a peremeter now, sir. But with the way things are going, I don't think it's going to do us much good."

Gordon raised an eyebrow, looking up at the condemned building that was being surrounded by his men.

"And how are things going, Lieutenant?"

Renee's expression said much more than words ever could. Gordon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his glasses. It was clear that this line of work wasn't going to be getting any damned easier for the aging cop.

"Alright. Keep that peremeter moving. We don't want those idiots making an easy getaway. We need to keep this situation a situation here, not on the streets."

Montoya nodded, slowly, before pulling a walkie-talkie off of her belt and holding it infront of her face.

"Alright, people, move! I want those blockades up within the next minute! Let's cut off the pedestrians, and get this area blocked off! Now!"

Bullock strolled up, behind Gordon, lighting another cigar in his mouth.

"Tactical squad's on it's way. But, hell, with the traffic on the bridge, I wouldn't bet money on them makin' it before someone in there gets themselves shot."

Gordon sneered. Not at Bullock, more than the people inside. There were so many punks like them in the city over the years that it was hard for Gordon to keep a count. But success was usually all but guaranteed, when he was there to stop them. Now, Gordon and his men were on their own.

"Nice to see you're keeping optimistic, Harvey."

"S'what I'm here for, Commish."

Gordon pulled out his own walkie-talkie, drifting into an agrivated pace.

"Driver? Lopez? It's Gordon. I want you on the Wayne Bridge right this minute for traffic clear-up. The tactical squad needs to make it through immediately. You hear me? That's your number one priority until this mess is history."

Montoya looked back, a bit worried, as Gordon muttered curses under his breath. Ever since... well, events that were obvious to every man and woman on the force, Gordon had become more irritable in his work. His voice boomed a little louder every day. More and more cops were beginning to question their Commissioner's authority. Renee didn't doubt him, but she'd have to be a fool in order to be able to blindly deny that Gordon was on edge.

"That perimeter up yet, Montoya?"

Renne nodded. "Just got confirmation from Vince."

Jim didn't say a word. All he did was stare up at the sky, reminiscing a time when he'd see something looking back at him from the shadows. He was so busy thinking to himself that he didn't even notice when a window from the top floor of the building bursted open, making way for the tip of an armed weapon to jet out.

"Commish! Incoming!"

Gordon instantly shook himself out of it, just in time to spot the weapon, grab Bullock, and pull them both behind the safety of his squad car. It wasn't a second later that bullets riddled the vehicle, as numerous cops scattered. Montoya leaped up from behind a different squad car, pistol drawn.

"RETURN FIRE! RETURN FIRE!"

Gordon's eyes widened. "No, dammit! No! They still have the hostages!"

Montoya looked over, apologetic, as she called her men off. She hadn't been thinking, clearly. But with what this all reminded them off, and the kind of help they had gotten up until a year ago, no one in their right mind was thinking clearly. The gunmen inside had the edge against them, and there was nothing they could do. All hope was lost.

"No more shooting."

Every officer in the area, including Gordon, Bullock, and Montoya, looked up with widened eyes and jaws dropped as an all-too-familiar barritoned growl errupted from the top of a nearby squad car. And despite what they wanted to tell themselves, what they saw was too good to be true. Ontop of the car lied the titanium heels of jet black combat boots, accompanied by a long black cloak, darkened armor, a golden utility belt around the waist, spiked gauntlets, and a horned cowl covering the majority of the features of the face. For the first time in a year, Commissioner James Gordon couldn't believe what he was looking at. Or in this case, who he was looking at.

"They've given you no options. But I'm here now, and I'm doing this my way."

Spreading his cape, the dark crusader cast a haunting shadow over the entire grounds, before ascending to the skies above. The thugs inside weren't sure what to make of what they had just saw. All that they knew was that what they thought it was couldn't be possible... He was dead. Gordon thought that to himself, too. But he was the only one, as several cops cheered, overcome by emotion. Montoya stared into the sky, shocked.

"Oh my God..."

Gordon grit his teeth. Were these people nuts? "Dammit, why didn't anyone stop that clown?!"

Montoya looked over to him, a bit surprised. "But, sir... that was... wasn't that...?"

"No, it wasn't! You should all know that! Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he's not coming back! That wasn't him!"

Gordon looked to the darkened skies, nearly enraged that someone out to kill themselves would dare try and tarnish the good name of his dearly departed friend. But given who that friend was, it wasn't surprising that many would try. He just didn't expect one to actually make it past their perimeter. That took someone with skill.

But regardless, it just couldn't be him.

"That wasn't Batman!"

Batman, however, begged to differ, as he whipped his cape around and departed into the shadows above, on the rooftop of the condemned factory. He had been observing the scene for close to ten minutes, taking in every detail that he could and seeing which would aid him, and which would cause more difficulty. There were roughly seventeen officers on the scene, counting Commissioner Gordon. At least nine perpertrators inside. Fifteen hostages, the majority being late night contractors looking to renew the property for construction.

And shadows. Plenty of shadows. This ends now.

 

[Freakjokerxxx]

Scarecrow
​

Gotham City.
Gotham Toy Factory.


Ornithophobia. The fear of birds.

I've been here to long not to of been discovered. I found this place abandoned when I was on the run from the birds. I should not worry so much. With the bat out of the picture, I have nothing to fear. No phobia for bats. Most look into it.

"Hel...Help m...me....please....rats....there all over me...help..."

The wino I found on the corner of Kane and 52nd is crying for help. The new batch of toxin is working better than I thought it would. A reaction in less than five seconds. It's gotten fats. It's also more potent. This man is seeing rats right now.

Musophobia. The fear of rats.

"Please...help...me..."

"Three young rats with black felt hats, Three young ducks with white straw flats..."

"Sto...stop that..."

"Three young dogs with curling tails, Three young cats with demi-veils..."

"Get them off of...off...now..."

"Went out to walk with two young pigs In satin vests and sorrel wigs..."

"I have a....ackkk...UGHHHH!!!"

"But suddenly it chanced to rain, And so they all went home again."

Well it appears that the poor man has had a heart attack. To much stress.
Stress...no phobia for that either. Most get onto this. The task at hand now is to take this gentleman and place him with the other specimens.


~ Scarecrow drags the body down into the cellar and opens the metal door. An odor hits his nostrils under his mask that almost make him gag. ~

The odor has gotten worse in here. How many are done here now. Ten? Twenty? A hundred? It dosen't matter now. I have the new and improved toxin and I think it's ready for some real testing.

 

[Andy C.]

My wife is, far and away, the most beautiful woman on the face of the Earth.

Aside from just her figure--which has always been amazing--her spirit is always absolutely bursting with energy, a passion for the life she leads and for the people she affects. Even before I started catching her in the midst of falling off a building on a weekly basis, she was never afraid of danger. She stood up to crooks like Intergang and threats like Lex Luthor while I was still a freelance reporter digging up scoops half a world away. Her writing, that undeniable desire to make the world a better place by telling people the stories that really mattered--well, I honestly fell in love with her before I ever met her.

People always speculate that Superman would wind up with Wonder Woman. As beautiful as Diana may be, it's Lois that'll always be everything to me.

...except for when it comes to breakfast.

It's not her fault--when you spend most of your life as a fearless globe-trotting reporter, you rarely have time for more than some cold cereal and hot coffee. Lord knows that Ma tried to teach her some of her old recipes, but Lois takes to the kitchen like a fish takes to the desert.

This morning, though, breakfast is absolutely exquisite. Fresh orange juice, a short stack of pancakes, and the best steak and eggs I've ever had in my life.

She ordered in.

"Well it's the thought that counts, right?" she says as she notices I've spotted the box in the trash can. "Anyway, I thought it'd be a fitting way to make an occasion out of this, before you go."

I want to comment that last night was an occasion in and of itself--the anniversary of our first flight together--but I've still got a mouthful of steak when she changes the subject.

"So what did Ma and Pa think?"

I swallow my food, then sigh.

"Ma's worried about what might happen to me out there, naturally. I think Pa's a little more worried about what I might do if I find what I'm looking for. I mean, he's never seen a lot of the things I've seen, but--I mean, is he right? Leaving you and Metropolis for who knows how long, to go out and try to bring my cousin back to life. Am I doing the right thing here?"

She looks up from her plate and raises an eyebrow.

"Honey. You're Superman. Do you ever not do the right thing?"

I chuckle, but neither of us think it's funny. Part of her really does believe that, and part of me really wishes she wouldn't.

"Still...there's no telling what might happen while I'm away. I wish I'd gotten hold of Conner, but he's been too busy with the Titans. John Henry will be able to take care of a lot, but if anything major comes along..."

"...the rest of the Justice League will handle it. Don't worry about us, Smallville--Luthor, Brainiac, and Doomsday are all gone, Bizarro's been quiet, Toyman and Prankster are locked up in Stryker's, and Metallo's being held by the SCU."

"And those KRYPTONITE folks?"

"Please. Once they don't have you to yell at, they'll calm down and forget why they were so mad in the first place. It's easy to push whatever stupid agenda you have if you can make people feel like they've been victimized--I mean, come on, did you pay attention to the last election?

"We'll be fine, honey. I promise."

She's always able to put my doubts to rest. Lois may not realize it, but I draw just as much strength from her as I do from the sun itself.

"Chalk it up to cold feet, I guess. I'm going off a pretty thin lead."

"That's why you're an investigative reporter, Smallville. Thin leads are what get us what nobody else can find. If there's anyone on Earth who can do what you're planning, and do it right, it's you."

She puts her arms around me, and kisses me. It's not quite our goodbye yet, but we've both got a long day ahead of us.

"The League's holding a memorial service today. I'll meet up with them, come back to Metropolis to make the announcement, then take off from the Fortress."

"Perry's having you go on 'assignment' to cover the political climate in Pokolistan. The way that place keeps boiling up, it's sure to keep as your cover until you get back. That'll--oh! Jimmy's birthday!"

"Right...er, I guess I'll have to miss it. Maybe send him a gift card--he likes electronics, right?"

She nods absently, then pulls close.

"Come back in one piece, Clark. With Kara or not, just promise me you'll come back."

I look her in the eye, and smile.

"I'll be back, Lois. And I'll be thinking of you until I'm home."

"You'd better," she grins slyly. We kiss goodbye one more time, and then I'm off.

I head to the Hall of Justice, to pay my respects to fallen friends.

And after that, I'll begin the journey to bring one back.

 

[Karem-Knight]

Ambush Bug arrived to a building in Gotham City, which had already been burnt down, looking on the ground the want to be superhero simply gloated.

"Damn! If only Karem poster sooner."

--------------------------------------------------------------

Okay, first off let me introduce myself; I am the mighty AMBUSH BUG! Okay, maybe not that might, maybe the "annoying" Ambush Bug, the "clumsy" Ambush Bug, the "funny" Ambush Bug. Basically, I was once a super villain till the people in DC Comics decided to make me into a funny wannabe be superhero. At first, I was cool with that; then I discovered what wild adventures I would be taking; and that I was possibly insane.

Moving on, I had three mini series with DC, and and a few cameos here and there. Not bad for a throw away villain eh? eh? Okay okay. Still better then nothing, eh? eh?

............

Moving on.....

My first mini series stared with Ambush Bug, and I made several appearances advertising my detective agency. After that failed I had a second mini series where I quit being Ambush Bug. Then I decided to come back, in DC's "Ambush Bug: Year None." which, has aboustley nothing to do with these RPGs, but still check out!

It's a little weird to be ALL text. You know? We can only use three or four images at any post. I'm just so used to being a comic book character, but since I'm at the will of some long haired 15 year old kid; I'll get used to it.

Being here for only about......a week. I've noticed all the sudden changes in the DC RPG Universe now. Keyser Soze as Green Lantern/Hal Jordon? Okay, I can see it; Hal HAS got a body count, but Keyser? He'll crack eventually and dismember and mutilate one innocent person as Jordon. I'm holding bets. Batman dead? Ouch. Wow. I mean, it's not like DC would ever do it would they? Huh? Well, it's not like Superman.....I mean Wonder.....or Flas-, errrr, GL........Aquaman? Nope?

Okay, its' not like DC or Karem would kill me, right?

Right?




Anyone?

 

[SenseiofCheese]

Tim rolled his eyes.

"I thought Con was meant to be the one with the smouldering eyes," he said dryly. He briefly considered pulling out Rose's chair, but decided that she wouldn't appreciate the gesture and sat himself down. Megan blushed a deeper shade of red.

"It's a joke," he said, raising his hands "Just a joke,"

Zachary Zatara
​

"Yes, because your family is renowned for it's firm grasp on humor." I added with a wry grin. Megan chuckled softly.​

"This is so great, Zach. Your powers are amazing!" she blurts out as she takes in the beauty around her. Mostly me.

I can't really tell, but I think Rose just rolled her eyes. Eye, I mean.

"Oh, it's nothing." I reply with something completely foreign to me: modesty.

"Yeah, Zach, this is really someth--" stupid Power Boy starts but stare at him with fire in my eyes.

"I'm awesome, I know." I feign enthusiasm before turning back to Megan. "So, how long've you had your powers for?"

She shifts uncomfortably. She's only been a real member of the team for a couple of months, so I haven't really had the chance to get to know her. But I do want to. So, so much.

 

[Catman_prb]

Some weeks ago...

Monk Malone's phone started vibrating in his pocket. He jumped and picked it up, flicking it open and putting it to his ear.

"Malone,"

"Yo kid, it's Frankie,"

"What's up Frankie?"

"We got orders from the big man himself. Tony was the one that ratted us out to the cops. We've got to deal with him,"

"..."

"You still there kid?"

"Tony's our friend, Frankie,"

"He sold us out. He's no one's friend now,"

"I'll meet you at his apartment at three," Monk said, before hanging up the phone. He sat down on his bed, and thought.

 

[Watchman]

One Year Ago,

"Gentlemen, we have gather here today to embark on a great experiment. One that has been born out of death, the Batman is dead." There was murmurs among the group sitting at the table. "Gotham needs a Batman and we are going to give them one." The man is Dr. Simon Hurt. He has not been seen since.

********
One Month Ago,

This is security footage taken from Arkham Asylum. It has been locked away in Dr. Jeremiah Arkham's office who according to the staff has grown more disturbing over the year. The feel that soon he will be among the patients that he once treated. There exist one more copy of the tape which has fallen into the hands of a lonely security guard named Mitch. It is currently lodged between Sorority Slumberparty 25 and The Good, The Bad and The Ugly. He believes it was the security footage of the cell of Poison Ivy but he hasn't gotten around to watch it yet.

The tape is as follows. It is a black and white shot of a man in his mid forties. He looks very disheveled and looks like he has lost his sanity.

"My name is Dr. Simon Hurt. I've worked for both the military and the Gotham City Police Department. Now I work for something that can only be described as the devil. I've released them. Their target is the fourth man, the Antichrist. He's here to take over Gotham....I'm going to burn it down before he does."

*****
Now,

The Batman lands on the rooftop where the "Commissioner" told him to go. The church was dark and silent. He creped along the roof and silently made his way inside through nearby window. He landed between the pews where he was illuminated by the moonlight sneaking in. A voice that seemed to erupt from everywhere.

"Finally, you made it." It didn't sound like Tut or Egghead. "Our cages have been open. At 7:07 last night the bat signal lit up in my brain." There was a loud rambling. One of the columns begun to fall. He narrowly rolled out of the way. "Branca. Take him." A giant figure lurched over him, breathing heavily.

"SMASH!" Two giant fist hurled toward the ground. A quick dodge and he was able to put a bullet in the monster's shoulder. It stumbled back into the moonlight. The man was a giant, obviously enhanced by Venom. He wore some sort of bastardized Batman mask. "RARGGGGGGG!" It made another charge at him. He stood his ground firing a few more rounds at the beast before it fell. It was still breathing.

"Dr. Hurt promised us but you ruin it. You ruined everything!" Red eyes of hellfire pierced the darkness. A burst of fire shot out of the gun illuminating the church. He was wearing the Batman costume but his mouth was covered up and his two eyes were red. "The end is nigh, Batman. The apocalypse will soon be here and you as its harbinger. They want Gotham but we won't let them take it." Another shot came from the Batman's gun. He felt a heavy impact on his chest. The body armor absorbed most of it. Another shot was heard this one came from behind.

"Nice shot, Mueller." A third Batman appeared from the shadows. His costume looked the most normal but was dirty and ragged. The "real" Batman placed his hand at his side and brought it back up. Blood. He fell to the ground. He was starting to lose consciousness. He could see them. His parents. His mother and father lying next to him. His mother touch the side of his face.

"Don't be scared. Everything is going to be alright."

"Tie him up!" The leader shouted. His head begun to spin. His memories were crawling back out.

 

[SuperFerret]

As the Martian indicates the bed, I just stand there. "There's no need for all that." My ring brings up a life-sized scan of my injury. "I've had worse."

I look around and listen, but hear no one else. "Where is everybody? Are you the only one on duty?"

"Hello, J'onn. Hello, Sinestro. I trust I am not too late? Where are the others?"

Arthur interrupts me before I can respond to Sinestro. "Apparently I am not." I reply to Sinestro before turning to greet Aquaman.

"You are not too late, old friend, in fact, you are one of the first to arrive."

 

[wiegeabo]

Arthur interrupts me before I can respond to Sinestro. "Apparently I am not." I reply to Sinestro before turning to greet Aquaman.

"You are not too late, old friend, in fact, you are one of the first to arrive."

"Arrive?" I'm confused for a few seconds, and then it hits me. "It's today? It...completely slipped my mind."

I sit down on the edge of the bed I had just told the Manhunter I didn't need. Where did the all the time go. I've done so much, but there is still so much left I need to do. And, I don't know how much time there will be to do it all.

The Martian starts working on my shoulder, but I barely feel it as I try to focus on the matter at hand. "So who's attending?"

 

[MaskedManJRK]

HUSH

My breath slows a bit, and my chest seems to relax ever so slightly. As I feel the blood begining to drip from my wounds, I feel a weird sensation come over my body. As he holds the blood scalpal above my face, his head inches from mine, a smile comes across my face. I see his face, how serious and insane he looks right now. I can't resist.
"Hahahahaha." I laugh, scoffing at him. "Still upset about my double crossing you, aren't you, Tommy?" I ask him, emphasing his name, making it an insult. He scowls at me as I mock him, his anger rising as his mind begins to go crazy.

I pull at my restraints, jerking my arms quickly, hoping to break free. I feel pain in my joints as I pull, giving it my all. As I try, I soon realize it is futile. He has me strapped down tight. I'm trapped.

Quickly, my mind begins to formulate ideas, escapes. My guns are gone; dropped when he ambushed me. As I look around the room, my eyes search for something, anything I can use. As they look around and scope the area, I keep coming back to Hush's face. I can see him steaming, his body filled with anger, his soul screaming for revenge. He plans to kill me tonight. I know it.

I stare at him, looking at the gauze wrapped loosely around his face. It's not neat like before. Not tight, not careful. No, it's all shoddy. Slapstick, done in a hurry. It appears he has better things to do than worry about an appearance.

Even behind his mummy-like mask, I can still see his expression. He's fuming. In my experiance, the angrier a man gets, the more he'll be likely to draw out his revenge. If I can keep him furious, I might be able to by some time. I don't know what I'm stalling for, but it's worth a shot. I've got a chance. 50/50.

"You know, Tommy," I start, stretching my body as I try to loosen my restraints. "Look at me. I'm hideous. Half of me is ugly, and deformed. But, I show it. Now, look at you." I say to him with a deep voice, focusing in on his eyes. "You wear gauze around your face to hide yourself. You demean me as the scum, Tommy, but really? You're the one who doesn't have the stones to show who he really is." As he growls in anger, I keep my cool and stay in control.

"This city is mine, Elliot. Because I'm not afraid to show my face. I'm not scared to hide what I am."

I looked into his eyes as he pitifully insulted me, and after he finished, I laughed--the look in his eyes tells me that's not entirely what he expected.

"Valient effort, Harvey. Is that the old 'piss off the bad guy to make a perfect getaway' trick? Not going to work, friend. I'm not your standard Arkham reject, Harv--surely you would know that? I mean, sure I monologue, but, what can I say?"

I made another swiping cut with the scalpel--down his cheek, landed right on one of his molars. Harvey clenched his mouth shut but it only muffled the scream. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound for a moment before continuing.

"As for my face...I am not afraid of showing it, Harvey. Just...not yet." I thought to later, when I would finish my surgery. "It's not done yet, and it'll be the perfect end to the final part of my plan--don't worry, Harv, I'll let you live, strapped on this gurney, until then. Then--and only then--will you see my face; and when you do...you'll wish you had never seen it."

 

[Blacklight]

​

The year is 2023. A cold, dark time in earth's history. What was once a beautiful landscape, now has become a ravaged warzone. A wasteland that is almost completely inhabitable for what little of the once-booming population is left. The once-bright yellow sun on the verge of death, permanently dimmed to the point where daytime resembles that of an eternal eclipse, and the warmth it use to bring comes only for a brief period, like the snow of winter. Superheroes that were once in abundance are now scarcely limited to only a few, and they have banded together to fight the oppression of the empire that has called itself the Order, and annexed Earth into it's collection.

Not much is known of the Order, but they are said to be an ancient alien race, and their invasion began with the defeat of the Guardians of the Universe and their Green Lantern Corps. The catalyst that set their plan in motion. After which, with no Guardians to defend it, they set their sights on the unsuspecting planet Earth. Metropolis was the first city to fall victim. Their attack was brutal, and in it's initial battle with the heroes of Earth resulted in hundreds of their deaths, with only the strongest, smartest and luckiest of the heroes surviving, regrouping underground. Staying secluded for many years to plan their counterattack, while the planet was seized during their abscence.

The remaining heroes have since formed a group that had been named the Justice Resistance to usurp control from the Order in one successful attack against their leader, and the key to their coup being successful was to initiate their plan to bring back the one hero that was able to defeat the Order once before his death in the War of Metropolis. Jaime Reyes. The third Blue Beetle.

So the Justice Resistance had constructed a time machine in order to find the hero in his youth to discover the secret to defeating them, but little do they all know, something went wrong in the retrieval...


Metropolis, 15 years from now...


The portal soon re-opened infront of the three of us, and we all stepped out of it as it closed up behind us. We were on a rooftop, and the sky was dark. Like it was just setting. But then I looked as the two men who brought me here looked down at the city in dissapointment. I could even see the sadness in their eyes. Whatever place this is, it must've been really important to them.

"Uhh... Where are we?" I asked them, afraid to look down at it.

"Metropolis."

"2023 A.D."

Then I finally approacehed the edge of the rooftop and looked down at the city below.

Spoiler

Oh my god...

"What happened?"

"The Order happened..."

The Order? What the hell is he talking about? God the future is so frustrating...

"We'll explain the rest later, Jaime. For now, we have to get you back to our base."

"Base? What base? Why are we going there?"

"Because, kid. It's time to introduce you to the League..."

* * *​

 

[trustyside-kick]

"Arrive?" I'm confused for a few seconds, and then it hits me. "It's today? It...completely slipped my mind."

I sit down on the edge of the bed I had just told the Manhunter I didn't need. Where did the all the time go. I've done so much, but there is still so much left I need to do. And, I don't know how much time there will be to do it all.

The Martian starts working on my shoulder, but I barely feel it as I try to focus on the matter at hand. "So who's attending?"

"I'd suppose everyone."

Orin sort of stumbles, falling on a knee, as he takes hold of himself. His right hand placed over his forehead, he gestures to J'onn and Sinestro with his left that he doesn't need any help. He shakes his head for a moment, and stands back onto his own two feet.

"I'm sorry. I've just--"

Another image flashes before Orin's conscious mind.

"...haven't been myself lately. Would you two excuse me? I think I need to take a quick dip in the pool. If you could summon me when the others have arrived, it would be greatly appreciated."

Orin doesn't even give them time to reply a 'yes' or 'no' to his request. He just turns to the doorway, and walks down the hall. He finds his pace slow and he grabs hold of the hallway, using it to hold him up as he leans with his right arm. He needs some sleep. Perhaps in the cooling waters of the pool room, he can find a soothing nap.

 

[wiegeabo]

"LOOK OUT!"

"Wha-?!" I don't get my thought out as the world seems to explode. The force of the blast throws me back through the containment doors I just opened. I slam into the wall hard, but land in a starting position, ready to rush into action. My clothes smoke, as does the rest of the room, but my cuts and scrapes are already healing.

"It's ok! Everything's ok now!" Alan shouts as the smoke clears. "You ok Jay?"
​

I stand up . "Yeah, I'll be fine. What the heck hap-?"

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean-I mean, it was an accident. It got away from me. Dammit!" Our new recruit punches his open hand in frustration.

"It's ok Damage. No real harm done. That's why we built the training room the way we did. To take everything we can dish out."

I dust myself off and walk into the room. "Can someone tell me what happened?"

"It's all my fault!" Damage says, exasperated.

"It's no one's fault, Damage. It was an accident. I was helping Damage practice his control, Jay. We were seeing how much he could push himself. The energy got away from him-"

"Yeah," Damage says, glumly.

Alan just ignores it. "-and I couldn't contain it fast enough."

I put my hand on our new recruits shoulder. "It's ok, son. No one was hurt. And if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. I should know better than open the doors when someone's training inside." It doesn't seem to cheer him up much. "Looks like I'll need to repaint the other room," I say, jokingly.

"No, I'll do it."

"It wasn't your fault."

"It's ok Alan. If Damage wants to help me, he can. We keep a bunch of stuff down in the basement for just these situations. Why don't you go down and find what we need."

"Ok, Flash," Damage says, slightly more chipper now. He quickly walks out of the room. Alan sighs and whips himself a chair to sit in.

"How are the recruits doing, Alan."

"Better than I expected."

"Doesn't mean it's easy, though. Does it."

Alan chuckles. "No, it does not. ...Makes me wonder how Ted did it all those years."

A sad look comes over Alan's face. Probably the same one I'm now wearing. "It was one of the things he did best. Guess it's my turn this week."

"Heh, yep." Alan stands back up and smiles, putting his hand on my shoulder as he walks away. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks a lot."

 

[Keyser Soze]

"Ah. The old, familiar places."

It is easy to disappear in the sewers of Gotham City. The complex network of tunnels and chambers and hidden nooks-and-crannies formed a vast underground city at least the size of the Gotham up on the surface, if not bigger. It was easy to get lost down there, or, indeed, to lose yourself. Every year, more and more of Gotham's citizens did just that, with the homeless and the desperate slipping through the cracks and finding their new home down amidst the filth and the grime and the darkness.

"We've had our fair share of battles down here before, haven't we... Batman?"

The Joker had chosen to lose himself too. He'd been living down in the sewers for the past year, in hiding from the world that feared him and the heroes that hunted him. That might have baffled people, going into seclusion in the aftermath of his greatest victory: killing Batman. By all accounts, he would have been expected to be out celebrating. But, as it so happens, The Joker has very little to celebrate these days.

He had little reason to emerge from his self-imposed exile, until he caught wind of a certain piece of news through the grapevine. Batman was back. And The Joker had hunted him down. And now Batman was tied to a chair, The Joker standing before him.

"And because we've been through this song and dance so many times, I know what happens now. Now's the part where you break free, knock me out with a good ol' left hook, and haul me back to Arkham. Come on, Batman. I'm ready for it. I've been on the loose far too long."

But Batman merely started sobbing. The Joker tilted his head in confusion.

"Puh-puh-puhleaze..."

The Joker silenced him with a fierce backhand slap.

"No, no, no! That's not right at all! Batman would never... beg and cry. No, right now you're supposed to look me right in the eye and show no fear. That's what Batman does! I mean... you are Batman, right?"

Circling around the chair, The Joker inspected his foe. Batman's costume looked cheap, probably store-bought. Already, his tights were ripped and tattered. Not so much cutting-edge armor as standard hoisery.

"After all, why would you dress up like him, if you weren't really Batman? Huh?"

The Joker leaned forward, staring grimly into Batman's terrified eyes for several seconds. Then, he flashed a yellow-toothed grin and, with a facial tic, changed the subject completely.

"Wanna hear a joke? What's worse than biting into an apple and finding a worm inside?"

The Joker skipped around behind Batman, looking around at their filthy surroundings.

"P-please let me go..."

"C'mon, dummy, I'm telling a joke. What's worse than biting into an apple and finding a worm inside?"

Batman let out a low moan of complete despair.

"I...I don't know..."

In one sudden movement, The Joker lunged forward and thrust his face right into Batman's, screaming into his ear.

"BEING RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPED! HA! HA HA!"

The HAs were not an exclamation of laughter. They were angry, savage, like a dog's bark. Spittle flecked from The Joker's mouth, and his eyes burned with hatred. And then after another twitch, he was all smiles once more.

"Oh. Oh! I know what you're doing, Batman, my old friend and worthy foe! You're letting me get my defenses down! Then, when I least expect it, you strike! I know how this works, when I go to take off your mask..."

His hand gripped onto one of the ears on Batman's cowl.

"...you break free..."

He began pulling the mask off of Batman's face.

"...and stop me."

The Joker now held the cowl in his hands. Batman was in fact just a boy. Not a day over 18. Since his mask lacked any white lenses, he'd painted black circles around his eyes, and unmasked, the kid looked somewhat like a panda. Dropping the cowl, The Joker glared distastefully at this blond-haired, panda-eyed, sobbing boy.

"You're not the real Batman, are you?"

Unable to formulate a coherent vocal response, the kid just shakes his head.

"No. Of course not. Batman is the greatest man I've ever known. How dare you presume to think you can be him?"

"I... I was just trying to..."

"Shut up. You have no concept of the risks Batman willingly confronted, the amount of times he looked death in the eye. Including the last time. See, I killed Batman. I killed the last person worth killing. And now all I have left... is worthless poseurs like yourself. You want to be like Batman? You can die like Batman."

The tears streamed from the kid's eyes, making his facepaint run in black lines down his cheeks.

"NO! PLEASE NO! I....I'M SORRY! PLEASE LET ME GO!"

Ignoring his pleas, The Joker took his gun out from his waistband.

"This is a great little gun, y'know. Very clever. I press the trigger, and a little BANG flag comes out, then I press it again and fires the flag like an arrow. Very clever, very sophisticated..."

Breaking off suddenly, he pistol-whipped the boy across the face with such ferocity, that it knocked the chair off the ground. As the boy, tied to the chair, toppled onto his side, The Joker was on top of him. Gripping onto the shaft of the gun, he brought the barrel of the gun crashing down onto the boy's face, shattering his nose. Tossing the gun aside, he continued pounding into the boy's face with both fists, feeling flesh rip and cheekbones crumble.

"You're not Batman! YOU'RE NOT BATMAN!"

Scrambling to his feet, The Joker verved around, and began laying into the kid with kicks to the ribs and head. And then he began stamping on the boy's head until his skull caved in like a watermelon. Panting with exhaustion, The Joker spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the bludgeoned corpse.

"Now look at you!"

Giving the body one last kick, The Joker composed himself and walked away from the scene. His period of exile was coming to an end. It seems like he had found himself something interesting to do. Batman was dead and gone. And now some young punk was going to disgrace his memory by impersonating him, by taking on the mantle of Batman.

And if what he'd heard was right, he wasn't the only one.

"I'll find them, Brucie" The Joker muttered to himself, deadly serious, "I'll find them, and I'll kill them. Every last one of them."

 

[Andy C.]

I take my time flying from Metropolis to the Hall--nearly a full minute. It lets soak in the sights one more time before I go.

As I cross over into the Southern Hemisphere, I see Diana's invisible jet on the horizon, and bank towards it. My hearing tells me other Leaguers are on the way as well. It'll be good to see everyone there, even if it's not under better circumstances.

"Haven't heard much from you lately, Diana," I say over the JLA communicator.

"Oh, hello Kal. I've been settling a lot of affairs in Themyscira--you wouldn't believe how complicated things can get there. How's your city?"

"Nothing particularly bad. A group of anti-alien protesters making noise, but other than that it's just...quiet."

As odd as it sounds, it's true. After Luthor went down, most of the other villains in Metropolis just kind of stopped bothering. Sryker's hasn't had a peep in months, and a lot of the bigger guns have been off the radar altogether. I guess I never realized the sheer scope of Lex's influence, even on the people who hated his guts.

"So, how do you think the turn-out will be?"

"Depends on how many of us aren't taking care of something. You're here, so I imagine things are quiet enough for most of us to make it."

I begin to decrease speed when the Hall comes into view.

"Well, here we are. I'll see you on the ground, Diana."

I touch down a moment later, and enter the Hall. J'onn and Sinestro are in the main corridor, and I catch sight of Arthur when I x-ray the surrounding rooms.

"Hope I'm not too late. How's everyone been?"

 

[SuperFerret]

I take my time flying from Metropolis to the Hall--nearly a full minute. It lets soak in the sights one more time before I go.

As I cross over into the Southern Hemisphere, I see Diana's invisible jet on the horizon, and bank towards it. My hearing tells me other Leaguers are on the way as well. It'll be good to see everyone there, even if it's not under better circumstances.

"Haven't heard much from you lately, Diana," I say over the JLA communicator.

"Oh, hello Kal. I've been settling a lot of affairs in Themyscira--you wouldn't believe how complicated things can get there. How's your city?"

"Nothing particularly bad. A group of anti-alien protesters making noise, but other than that it's just...quiet."

As odd as it sounds, it's true. After Luthor went down, most of the other villains in Metropolis just kind of stopped bothering. Sryker's hasn't had a peep in months, and a lot of the bigger guns have been off the radar altogether. I guess I never realized the sheer scope of Lex's influence, even on the people who hated his guts.

"So, how do you think the turn-out will be?"

"Depends on how many of us aren't taking care of something. You're here, so I imagine things are quiet enough for most of us to make it."

I begin to decrease speed when the Hall comes into view.

"Well, here we are. I'll see you on the ground, Diana."

I touch down a moment later, and enter the Hall. J'onn and Sinestro are in the main corridor, and I catch sight of Arthur when I x-ray the surrounding rooms.

"Hope I'm not too late. How's everyone been?"

I look up and nod a greeting to Superman, while finishing programming one of the medical robots to do the appropriate procedures on Sinestro's wounded shoulder.

"You should be fine, Sinestro. You know the drill by now, just let the machines do their work and your shoulder will be as good as new soon."

I leave him to take his treatment and make my way to Superman, shaking his hand. "I've been better, Kal, but I'm sure the memory of this occasion weighs on all of us." I say somewhat grimly, "How have you been? How is Lois?"

 

[Andy C.]

I leave him to take his treatment and make my way to Superman, shaking his hand. "I've been better, Kal, but I'm sure the memory of this occasion weighs on all of us." I say somewhat grimly, "How have you been? How is Lois?"

"Lois is doing great for herself--she's been offered all sorts of book deals about her captivity, but she wants to focus more on her work at the Planet rather than go for cheap publicity. Besides, her reporting on the reconstruction efforts got her nominated for another Pulitzer."

It doesn't take his psychic abilities for J'onn to see that my small talk is just stalling. I've been informed by several reliable sources that I have the worst 'poker-face' of anyone in the League.

"As for myself, well...I don't know. I've been going back and forth for a while now on a tough decision. I've made up my mind about what I'm going to do, but I think it can wait until the memorial here is over."

 

[trustyside-kick]

EDIT: Damn Hype.

 

[trustyside-kick]

The settings for the pool room was always as Orin pre-set it to. Emitting from the speakers is the sound of a soothing wind on a beach, as though sea gulls were flying low in the sky, and the waves smashing up against the rocks and shore. Of course, such features in the pool room was only one of the many technologies available throughout the Hall of Justice.

With these settings, it would always put Orin in the calmest of moods. Normally, after a JLA mission there was no question as to whether or not Aquaman would go to the pool room right away. Sure, he could take a swim just outside the base, but the water was cold, and he often wasn't looking for a chilling swim. With the sound features, as well as temperature control, Orin could picture himself swimming somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, or in the Indian Ocean.

But just as before, when he found himself in a most comfortable of settings, not more than a few minutes after closing his eyes and going into a state of sleep, his peace was interrupted. Shortly after falling a sleep, a vision he had seen prior to his coming to the Hall of Justice, loops back and forth; each time more potent in its vivid picture and sound.

"No..."

He even starts to talk in his sleep as he goes through the nightmare. Repeating the same 'no' over and over again. The more he seems to try to block the vision out of his mind, the worse it gets. Still, he continues to whisper out a 'no' even when there is no one he is talking to.

"...no..."

"As for myself, well...I don't know. I've been going back and forth for a while now on a tough decision. I've made up my mind about what I'm going to do, but I think it can wait until the memorial here is over."

And then, he loses it. His small, soft, cries, emit a telepathic cry as well, audible for anyone within the Hall of Justice.

~...NOOO!!~

He opens his eyes, and sits up from his position in the pool. Studying his surrounding areas, he remembers just exactly where he is. He's in the pool room of the Hall of Justice. Nothing is wrong. He's safe. What he saw was nothing more than a vision.

...He didn't kill Orm.

 

[SuperFerret]

"Lois is doing great for herself--she's been offered all sorts of book deals about her captivity, but she wants to focus more on her work at the Planet rather than go for cheap publicity. Besides, her reporting on the reconstruction efforts got her nominated for another Pulitzer."

I listen quietly to Clark talk about his wife, smiling at the hints of extreme happiness in his voice, he's still elated to have her back. But happiness isn't the only thing that I detect, he's conflicted, and talking a tiny bit too fast. He's stalling, somethings up.

"As for myself, well...I don't know. I've been going back and forth for a while now on a tough decision. I've made up my mind about what I'm going to do, but I think it can wait until the memorial here is over."

"Well I am sure that you've made the right decision, Clark. You always do."

I'm about to relate my recent problems to him when a ripple of emotions, mostly fear, anger, confusion and exhaustion, hits my mind. I noticably flinch a second before the telepathic cry goes out.

~...NOOO!!~

"Orin.." I whisper, already flying towards the pool room, not needing to look behind me to know that Superman is right behind me.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"So, what's in Portsmouth City?"

"Unfinished business", stated McCulloch gruffly as he pulled his mask tight over his head.

Evan stood in his room in the Rogue's base of operations, the Weather Wizard standing just inside his doorway.

"Just watch yer ass."

McCulloch looked up to see Cold walk past Mardon and into the room.

"Aye, don't hav't ta worry 'bout that", Evan commented as he holstered his mirror guns.

"If you need some backup, we'll be there."

"Appreciate th' thought, but this is somethin' I'm needin' ta do alone."

McCulloch turned and walked towards the large mirror that stood on the back wall of the room.

"Ta-ta, 'gents. Be seein' ya", Mirror Master smirked with a mock salute before disappearing down the rabbit hole...

--------------------

The dark clouds blotted out the sun, casting a rainy shadow over Portsmouth City.
McCulloch ran his fingers through his red hair as he walked through the door into the small clinic.
The doctor's office was fairly busy with at least a half-dozen patient waiting to be seen.
Evan paid them no heed as he strode to the receptionist.

"Hullo there, miss", he smiled.
"Perhaps ya can help me."

"What's the nature of your injury?"

"Ye misunderstand me, luv. I'm not here 'cause I'm hurt. I'm lookin' fer a friend of mine", McCulloch said leaning in towards the lady putting on a charming smirk.
"His name's Pieter. Pieter Cross."

 

[Eddie Brock]

I knock on the door only once. Taking a step back into the cruddy apartment hallway, I crouch forward in a ready stance. I can hear Putin's footsteps as he approaches the door. Timing is key. The second that the footsteps halt, I kick the door as hard as I can. The rusty hinges give way, and the door comes tumbling downward onto Putin's body. I instantly leap on top of the door and push down. Putin coughs as the air in his lungs escapes him.

"I want the Chechen," I growl menacingly.

Breathing heavily, Putin replies, "And I want a f***in' pony. Tough luck, huh?" He tries to spit, but his mouth is too dry. This one is going to take some work. I almost prefer it that way.

"You're going to deliver him to me," I explain calmly, not missing a beat. If you want to instill fear in others, you must train yourself to be devoid of all emotion. The harder you are to read, the more nervous guys become when they're playing hard-to-get. "He's holding another dogfighting tournament this weekend. Give me a location."

"And what - *ack* - makes you think I know anything about that?" Putin groans. He attempts a sneer, but the weight of the door - and my body - causes him to grimace in discomfort.

"You're the Chechen's right-hand man."

Putin laughs, but it sounds more like sharp inhalations than anything else. His breathing is becoming more strained. "Then, why would I give him up for you?"

Moving quickly, I leap down and push the door aside. I grab Putin before he can react, lifting him off the ground. I've grown surprisingly strong for my appearance. Putin is visibly surprised. "Your sister," I snarl.

"W-what about her?" he asks nervously. The "tough guy" attitude is fading.

"You don't talk, and she goes back to Russia," I explain sinisterly. I even allow myself to smirk so he can see my sadism. Putin is speechless. "Time to choose, Piotr. The Chechen or Vera?"

Suddenly, Putin's demeanor shifts completely. "Who's Vera?" Confusion and suspicion riddle his tone.

I growl. Renee's going to pay for this. Without responding, I slam Putin into the nearest wall before tossing him over his couch. He begins to laugh defiantly.

"You don't know where my sister is at all, do you? Hah! You don't even know her n--"

I judo chop him sharply in the larynx, and he begins gasping desperately for air.

"There's more than one way of making you talk," I announce ominously. I plant my heel in his sternum as he continues to cough violently. "I'm afraid the next method requires a considerable amount of pain for you."

Putin looks up at me through teary eyes.

"Your choice."

 

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