|Justice League UNLEASHED 2|
|Link||Justice League UNLEASHED 2|
|Size||12 Players (Medium)|
|First to Die||Tolecnal|
|Last Remaining||Nana, Phil, Bona|
It began on September 10, 2014 and ended in a Indie win in N8 (Sept 25).
Game Mechanics Edit
Note: 1 Supervillain and 2 Justice Leaguer roles have been removed. It will be announced which, but certain roles will know if other roles were removed.
Things that will appear in Night Post: Kills, successful saves (including undo’s), blocks. Blocks will not be shown in this setup but the player will be privately informed they were blocked. Kryptonite use will not be shown. Block on block will result in a canceling out of actions and will not be shown (observing roles will also not see anything happening). Everything else in the Night/Day Post is subject to creative license ;P.
In the event of a tie: if the tie is due to use of Ares’s ability, no one dies. Otherwise, all tied players die and the last player(s) to add/remove/change their vote(s) to create the tie(s) dies.
All “cannot be killed at Night”’s will appear as saves, from a saving role that is not shown as acting otherwise in the Night Post if possible, otherwise random, and all “cannot be lynched/saved from lynch/no one dies” will be indistinguishable.
In case of loops: Manipulate>Redirect>Block
In case of roles acting on the same player: Lex’s manipulate>Amazo using Lex’s manipulate, Amazo using any redirect>Martian Manhunter’s redirect>Green Lantern’s redirect, and of course, any block will prevent the player from acting.
Redirect loops will be terminated on the first return, i.e. if A redirects a block to A, will show in the Night Post as A being blocked; if A redirects B’s redirect to A it will effectively block B’s redirect and nothing else will happen. Only the initial redirect target and action will be seen by observing roles, i.e. they will see A acted on B, but not B acted on A.
Unless otherwise specified, role abilities (things that a role must actively choose to do, i.e. actions) can be blocked/redirected/manipulated/copied, but role attributes (i.e. passives) cannot.
All actions are considered to be initiated at Night and ‘go through’ during the transition b/w Night and Day, so a player’s action will occur unless blocked or manipulated.
Players will not be informed of the success/failure of their actions unless otherwise stated.
Players are free to say whatever they wish in the thread as long as they do not make a false claim about the host or the rules. The host reserves the right to clarify any seeming misunderstanding about the rules.
No reproduction of game related material from outside the game thread in the game thread.
Please address your questions to the host in purple. Thanks!
The 2nd Assemblage of Supervillains:
(Have BTSC, choose one player each Night to carry out kill, and once in the entire game, may save one player from the lynch)
- Lex Luthor: (Man) A mere man, yet he earns the title of Superman’s greatest adversary for his intellect, ambition, and powers of manipulation. Each Night, he may control the actions of one player if he is able to correctly identify their role. He will be informed if the manipulation is successful and/or if his action was redirected, but not to whom. Subject to all role restrictions (if he unknowingly breaks one of them or the player unknowingly breaks one of them due to having been manipulated, the player’s action will fail and he or they will be informed it failed due to breaking of a role restriction). The player he is manipulating is subject to block/redirection. If he manipulates a role that receives information, he receives the information as well. The player he is manipulating is not informed they were manipulated. Cannot manipulate Amazo. If he manipulates the Flash or any Day action, must specify during the nth Night that he will use the action on the nth Day (and hence no other). He may choose the message targets during the Day.
- Ares: (Magic) The God of War, not at all bitter about the lack of worship to him in the present era *whistling*. Uses his powers to rile up his opponents against each other. Any Day, may select a player to change the vote of. As it is a Day action, it cannot be blocked or redirected, but can be manipulated.
- Solomon Grundy: (Magic) Undead zombie corpse of a mob boss, is short on wit but definitely not short on strength. Being undead, can only be killed at Night by the magic of Hawkgirl’s Nth metal mace and requires a majority of votes to lynch. Any Night, may use brute force to prevent a player from acting.
- Felix Faust: (Magic) An ancient sorcerer (yeah, we mean ancient) on a never-ending quest for mystical power. He may channel the spirits of the dead. Any Night, he may use the abilities of a dead player if he can correctly identify their role or choose a player and determine if they are magic or man. Cannot channel Amazo (being an android who doesn’t have a spirit to channel), or Hawkgirl (being from a different world whence her spirit will return to upon death). Subject to all role restrictions, which are reset upon the player’s death.
Amazo/Professor Ivo’s Android: (Man...kinda) An innovation creation by the late Professor that can replicate the abilities of the beings it comes in contact with.
- Each Night, it may choose one player to learn their role and copy their abilities (this action cannot be blocked, redirected, or undone).
- On the nth Night/Day cycle, it may also use n/2 (rounded down) of the abilities it has learned. (If he chooses to use Day actions, must specify the Night before that how many Day actions he will be using)
- Not subject to any role restrictions, except Lex’s RID manipulate, and Batman's item limit. If he copies Batman, starts out with Batman's initial arsenal.
- If he replicates Superman, he gains his invulnerability and susceptibility to krytonite.
- Invincible for first two Nights and Days.
- If blocked or redirected, each block or redirect will only affect one of his abilities.
- At any time, but only for one Night/Day cycle in the entire game, Amazo may activate turbo mode, in which he is unkillable, unlynchable, unblockable, unredirectable, and unundoable.
The Justice League:
- Superman/Clark Kent: (Man) Somebody save me...well, that’s what he’s here for. Each Night, may choose one player to save. Cannot save himself and cannot be saved. Due to his Kryptonian physiology, he cannot be killed at Night without the aid of kryptonite. However, since studies have linked prolonged exposure to kryptonite to cancer, no one carries it around with them, hence an attacker must return to their secret HQ to retrieve it, and cannot perform any other Night action in addition to the kill. Use of kryptonite must be specified with the kill, and cannot be used two Nights in a row.
- Batman/Bruce Wayne: (Man) The only founding JL member without superpowers, he is arguably the strongest due to his intelligence, discipline, and inner strength. Now comes equipped with his own trademarked utility belt! Any Night, may use an item on his belt, however, once the item is used, it will be gone and no longer available. If blocked, item is not used. Items on the belt (and their quantity):
- Batarangs (2): May use to injure a player and prevent them from acting.
- Grapple gun (1): May use to spirit himself and another player of his choosing out of danger (save).
- Line Launcher (1): May use to zip line a player away, saving them from the lynch. (May use this at any time during the Day but must either choose not to act the Night before or the Night after)
- Cryptographic sequencer (1): May use to hack into a player’s computer and receive the same information they receive that Night.
- Smoke pellets (3): May use to disguise himself so that he may watch and find out the players who acted on his target.
- Tracers (3): May place on his target and find out who they acted on.
- Kryptonite (1): (In lead casing) His backup plan, just in case...
- Wonder Woman/Diana: (Magic) Themysciran Princess with power second to no man. Each Night, may use her lasso of truth to find the answer to one TRUE/FALSE question (PM’s question to host and host will answer TRUE/FALSE). Cannot be redirected. May not ask about pending actions.
- Flash/Wally West: (Man) Fastest man on earth...and, as Hawkgirl likes to point out...single. Uses his super-speed to ferry messages b/w roles. Each Day he may choose two roles, one to send, one to receive and the next Night the sender will be informed they may send a message and to which role. The receiver will not be informed of the sender’s role. As it is a Day action, it cannot be blocked or redirected, but can be manipulated.
- Green Lantern/John Stewart: (Man) Using his power ring as an extension of his will, he may choose to do one of the following actions each Night, not the same two Nights in a row: save, block, redirect. Cannot redirect a player to themselves. Cannot die as long as Hawkgirl is alive. If Hawkgirl dies, also gains the option to kill.
- Hawkgirl/Shayera Hol: (Magic) Her tongue being the only thing sharper than the spikes on her Nth metal mace, this Thanagarian dynamo may target one player any Night to kill with her weapon or she may choose a player to find out if they are magic or man using the magical properties of her weapon. May not choose the kill action two Nights in a row and may not target the same player two Nights in a row. Knows the identity of Green Lantern. Is revealed when she dies.
- Martian Manhunter/Jon Jones: (Man) Sole survivor of his species, each Night may use his telepathic abilities to delve into one player’s mind and redirect their action, or use his ability of invisibility to watch and learn which players acted on his target. Cannot redirect players to themselves. May not target the same player two Nights in a row.
- Zatanna Zatara/Herself: (Magic) uoy no lleps a tsac lliw ytuaeb reH. Each Night, my use her backwards magic to undo an action if she can predict it. Predictions must be in the form “[role A] [performs X action] on [player B]”. Applies to the action itself, not what the player intended, so includes actions that are being manipulated and/or redirected and is assessed after manipulation/redirection. Zatanna’s action itself cannot be redirected, and trumps all other actions in case of loops or conflicts.
- Green Arrow/Oliver Queen: (Man) The world’s greatest archer...or so he likes to think. Always hits his target with deadly accuracy. Each Night, may choose a target and make their action unblockable and unredirectable, or choose a player to determine if they are Black Canary. If he finds Black Canary, gains BTSC with her. May not target the same player two Nights in a row.
- Black Canary/Dinah Lance: (Man...well, not really but you know…) Strong willed and skilled at judo, each Night, may use her canary cry to either incapacitate a player, preventing them from acting, or to echo-locate them and find out their target. May not target the same player two Nights in a row.
Host's Summary Edit
Game Idea and Expectations Edit
Winning Faction Edit
- Nana - Amazo
Day and Night Posts Edit
In the watchtower the lone figure stood, staring out into the horizon receding along the blue and green orb below. Her thoughts along with her gaze had lost themselves in that vibrant golden glow, the same glow which had glinted off the armor of her countryman, her companions, the day she had been raised to the rank of warrior, the day they all had, the happiest day of her life. But the brilliance of that golden glow had been nothing compared to the glow on their faces, which in turn was nothing compared to the glow in their hearts, for to fight; to protect their home, to put their lives on the line for its honor, and even to give their lives; that was what they have been made for, what they sought in the deepest reaches of their souls.
But her connection to her comrades and her home had vanished like the halo now had, intenable except in her memory, leaving behind only the shadows of loss and yearning. The warrior sighed.
“You are thinking of Thanagar again,” the martian’s smooth voice glided into her consciousness as his physical form glided into the room.
Hawkgirl snapped around, furious at hearing the interloper speak the name of her home. “Stay out of my mind, Jon. You have no right to be in there.”
The martian shook his head slowly. “I understand your loneliness, I too have lost my home.”
“Understand? How could you? It’s not the same thing. My home is still out there, yours…”
Her lips froze and her voice trailed off as she became aware of what she had been about to say. Jon’s marked brow sagged, the only sign he ever evinced of his internal agony. Hawkgirl started to lift a hand as if in apology, but the martian had already phased into invisibility and no doubt was on his way out.
Green Lantern felt something brush past him lightly as he leaned against the doorway, glaring at the Thanagarian warrior. “Jon was just trying to help. You shouldn’t have said that to him.”
Becoming aware of this new presence, Hawkgirl’s mouth clamped shut and all signs of contrition fled from her features. “He shouldn’t have read my mind,” she replied petulantly.
“It doesn’t take a psychic to read what’s on your mind,” the soldier retorted. “And you call yourself a warrior? If any of the men in my regiment had been as sulky as you, it would have gotten us all killed. And if any of the Lanterns in the Corps were, entire planets could be destroyed.”
Hawkgirl’s face reddened to a hue deeper than her hair. She gripped the handle of her Nth metal mace so tightly her knuckles went pale, but she clenched her lips and pushed out of the room, also brushing past Green Lantern, but definitely not lightly.
Under the relentless assault of his opponent, it was all the hero could do not to buckle. As soon as he managed to parry a punch or a kick or a well-aimed knee, the next attack in the expertly coordinated sequence came at him from an unanticipated position. His adversary was truly a master in the art of combat, and because of that, he was forced to go all out despite boasting superior physical strength and superhuman speed. Superman smiled. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.
The next blow, a flying roundhouse, came towards his left, and the last son of Krypton pivoted and raised his left arm to block. His opponent landed with demi-god like agility and transitioned into a low sweeping back kick without wasting a breath. Superman propelled himself upwards to avoid it, and noted his adversary’s back was to him, providing an opening, finally!
As he moved to take advantage of it, though, with a hard cross, his opponent leapt up with an extraordinarily high back flip and landed behind him, wrapping muscular arms around his neck.
Superman gritted his teeth and struggled against the death grip for what seemed an interminable interval, and finally decided on thrusting back and attempting to fling his opponent over his head. It worked, and his adversary released him and performed another mid-air somersault before landing in front, facing him.
The man of steel took a moment to catch his breath. Then he grinned. “Not bad, princess.”
The amazon’s lips curved up as well in response. She straightened and brushed a loose lock of hair from her face. “Again?”
A red blur flashed past the open doorway. A moment later, it came back, this time entering the room and stopping besides the dark form that was intently typing into the console and simultaneously scanning three computer screens.
“Wonder Woman is sparring with Superman?” the speedster queried with incredulity somehow pronounced by the lines of his mask.
The vigilante paused just long enough to grace the source of the interruption with his patented cowl-covered scowl. “Do you want to spar with her?”
“Uh...well…” The scarlet speedster stammered as a phantom pain flashed down his side, an echo from his previous encounter with the amazon princess. Suddenly he noticed an alert blinking on one of the screens, and in a manner true to his name, changed the subject, “Hey, what’s that?”
Peels of petulant laughter pierced the space between buildings as a snake of ice sprung forth around them in midair. Sliding along it came two figures, the first a man of middle stature, clad in a white fur lined light blue parka, holding the ice gun in one hand and a canvas bag in the other, in which betrayed suspiciously gem-shaped bulges. Close on his snow-booted heels followed a skinny goggled man in an orange and green costume, toting a substantial green backpack, and grinning from ear to ear.
They were immediately pursued by a volley of arrows. The first man adjusted the angle he was holding the gun to alter the path of ice it was generating. The second man ducked his head slightly to his left and the nearest arrow just missed the strap of his goggles. “Nice work, Lenny!” he cried excitedly.
“I told you not to call me that!” the parka-ed man chided, turning to his compatriot. As he did, though, he noticed the slew of arrows unexpectedly curve and change course, as if guided by some sort of magic, to turn back onto them. “Duck!” he cried.
The goggled man hunched down, covering his head with his hands. The beam emanated from the ice gun glanced over his head and hit the flock of arrows, freezing them. The man shivered and tenderly felt around his head, noting the tips of his spiky hair were now ice cold and rock hair. “Hey! That wasn’t…” he began.
Abruptly his thought was cut short as the serpentine ice bridge beneath their feet cracked and crumbled.
“Aaaaaahhhhhh!” the ice man cried as he began to plummet downward. The other man quickly retrieved a gun-shaped item from his pack and shot a torrent of a viscous, metallic substance onto the ground below, creating a mirror surface. Instead of crashing onto the ground, the forms of the two men fell into the surface, vanishing.
“Darn it!” cursed the attractive blonde clad in a tight black outfit that had been in pursuit. She turned to one of her companions, a pretty brunette in a tail-coat and top hat. “Can’t you do anything, Zatanna?”
The magician shook her head. “Sorry Dinah, the technology Mirror Master uses is more science than magic, and my spells won’t work on the mirror world.”
“Breaking the ice with your canary cry was a good move,” remarked her other companion, a fair haired man carrying an impressive bow and dressed like Robin Hood. “Normally we’d have him dead to rights by now, but Captain Cold teaming up with Mirror Master makes it difficult.”
“Well,” remarked the bird of prey meaningfully. “Didn’t we join a team as well? Maybe it’s time to call in reinforcements…”
The shadows on the walls of the alcove danced in the flickering light of the candles. Their accompaniment was played by a low murmuring chant in a language so long dead that what the last historians of it had written was itself in a language long dead. The reciter, a bony figure in a purple and silver robe who had been considered tall in his time...a time long, long ago, knelt, hunched, hands clasped together with index fingers protruding out, with his eyes closed, deep in concentration.
Five especially substantial candles, whose flames burned with an unusual blueish hue, were arranged around the center of the floor, delineating the vertices of a large pentagram. Strange symbols were painted along and inside it, in a fashion that would have seemed haphazard to the casual observer, but were meticulous and quintessential to the task at hand.
“How much longer is this going to take?” demanded the man lounging on a couch on the other side of the cavern, who exuded in self-confidence what his head failed to exude in follicles.
The hooded man did not respond, but the other figure in the room, who was no mere man by any means...or at least by his own, shook his horn-helmeted head. “Patience.” He sighed. “One of the many virtues lacking in the societies of this era.”
“This era has many faults,” the affluent manipulator replied, raising his brow at the disenfranchised deity. “But at least we don’t think every time it thunders it’s an act of god.”
The former god of war harumphed. “You and your science,” he scoffed, spitting the word out as if it were a Thracian toad. “It does not matter how much you know, or rather, how much you think you know. Without a strong hand to guide you, humans are no more than beasts, fighting amongst yourselves for every scrap. No...you are worse than beasts. Beasts fight only for scraps that are real, you humans contrive scraps of fancy and then waste real resources fighting for fiction.”
“True,” the human seemed to concede for a moment, then continued, “but someone who is sentient of what is contrived can use it to control those who are not.” He gave his compatriot a pointed look. “I don’t have to try to claim the ground shaking as my own act.” He laughed contemptuously.
The color on the deity’s face deepened to match the hue of his helmet. He opened his mouth to answer the slight, but as if in response itself, the ground began to rumble.
A loud tearing sound reverberated through the chamber and the floor in the center of the pentagram sharply fell, swallowed into the gullet of the darkness below. The lights of the candles spasmed violently, as if sobbing in terror. Miasma, black and ominous, ensued to suffuse from the chasm, devouring the ground, the candles, and their crying light.
Slowly a form began to emerge, still covered by the miasma: the shape of a head...then shoulders, immense and uneven...a blocky hulking torso...crooked, angled legs…
After the pair gigantic misshapen feet surfaced, the miasma fell, or rather, pulled away, retreating into the chasm. As its last tendrils receded back into the darkness, the orifice seemed to suck in and close upon itself.
“Well, about time,” the billionaire remarked. He glanced at the hooded man, who had stood after finishing the spell and came to stand opposed to the other two, completing the triangle, and then turned his gaze to the newcomer. There was a glint in it as he spoke: “Let’s begin, shall we?”
The crow landed on the rickety wire fence that encircled what remained of an abandoned factory. The wire-cut ends of a human-sized hole gaped where thieves had passed through to steal what scraps of value they could salvage and sell on markets in varying shades of gray. The torrid afternoon sun beat down on what forsaken morsels were left. One single pane of aluminum siding, however, stood incongruously intact, for the most part, and the crow cocked its head curiously at the creature it saw in the reflection.
The creature cocked its head in return. The crow cawed. The creature opened its beak as well. The crow turned its head and as its reflection followed, it began to relax. Suddenly, though, the reflected figure’s body and head distorted grotesquely as what a human being would have described as “a ripple” seemed to propagate over the shiny surface.
In a flutter of wings the crow fled as more ripples fanned out, with increasing frequency. Something jutted out of the surface...an elbow. It was followed by an arm and a back and legs…
“Hahahaha...that was terrific!” Captain Cold laughed as he tumbled out of the mirror dimension.
Mirror Master chuckled and adjusted his goggles. “Imagine the looks on their faces when they were expecting us to go ‘splat’ but we disappear instead.”
“I bet they’re all dancing around like chickens with their heads cut off, like ‘what are we going to do?’” In demonstration, Cold pulled up his arms in imitation of said fowl and began hopping around on one foot and then the other. Spurred on by the uncontrollable fits of laughter from his compatriot, he jumped higher, pretended to lose his balance, and began bawking. To flourish, he leapt into the air, twirling, and...smack into a steel wall.
Or what felt like a steel wall, anyway. “Son of a…” Rubbing his now slightly more crooked nose, Cold glanced up...to come face to face with an all too familiar S symbol.
“Kryptonian?” The man of steel finished for him, folding his arms over his impressive chest.
“Well, Lenny, it’s been fun while it lasted,” Mirror Master murmured, backing away. “But I think it’s about time to dissolve our partnership. Every man for himself!” He cried, and whirled around to jump back into the mirror world. His movement, however, was halted in midair as a golden lasso circled about his waist.
A hard tug on the rope from its owner and the goggled felon came crashing to the ground. “You were saying?”
The incapacitated Mirror Master and the enervated Captain Cold exchanged looks, then gazed warily at the line of formidable figures in front of them. “Awww craaaaa…..”
|N1: Nya Nya Nya Na Na|
A patch of cold had briefly chased away the heat and humidity of summer. Hence the air was crisp and clear and the line of light sliced through it cleanly before opening up into a doorway sized oval.
Through the portal of light a helmeted silhouette emerged. As he stepped through, the rift in space time re-sealed itself behind him.
The figure stared at the house in front of him, plain and unassuming, like all the other houses on the block. But anticipation and dread filled his thoughts as the other him began talking in his head.
“I know,” he answered it after a moment. “I know…”
Nana impatiently flipped through the 380 channels on her plasma TV, going from a sports channel to a cooking show to another sports channel to a Spanish soap to another sports channel…
A sudden chill in the air woke her up from her revelry and she spun around.
A gaunt figure in a dark robe stood behind her, his bony fingers twisted around a talisman of some sort, chanting in a tongue she had never heard before.
“Who are you? How did you get into my house?”
The figure raised his head, revealing jaunty features set in a sickly pallor. “I am the world’s greatest wizard, I am here to kill you. You should be honored.” His thin lips turned into what was most probably supposed to be a smile, but the end result appeared to be a leering grimace. “As for how I got in here...well, magic opens many doors…”
He began chanting again and abruptly Nana felt her throat constrict and herself unable to breath. The leering grimace deepened.
Faust frowned. “Who is that?”
“My...date…” Nana choked. She gathered all the strength she could into a scream. “Heeeelllllp!”
CRASH! The door flew open and a strapping, well built man stormed into the room.
Faust took in the new arrival’s musculature and glanced at his own...lack thereof. Sighing, he made a judgement call. “I’ll get you next time!” He cried before vanishing in a puff of smoke.
The Justice Leaguer yawned. It had been a long day. After making short work of Captain Cold and Mirror Master, the League had gone on to stop 23 other crimes...well 24 if you counted helping that kid with the bullies that had been picking on him. Now it was time for bed.
Before the JLer could snuggle under the warm, inviting covers though, there came a knock at the door. “Who is it?” was grudgingly asked.
Silence, then came the answer from a voice that seems to carry a strange echo: “Fate.”
Sighing, the JLer trudged to the door and threw it open. “Oh, it’s you…”
The visitor nodded slowly. “It’s coming...and your help is needed.”
It had started as a quiet Day in the Watchtower, with Flash doing his usual rounds...every 2.3 seconds, Batman somehow keeping his eye on everything that was going on over his morning coffee...well, everything important anyways...and Green Lantern checking in with the Guardians of Oa on the status of the neighboring galaxies...just the usual stuff…
But as the hours starting getting long, a restlessness began to grow amidst the heroes, a sense of suspicion and fear. Finally, they decided that one of the players must be removed from the state: Tolecnal.
When informed of her impending demise, she simply nodded and accepted her fate with trademarked calm
It may be for the best, her mellifluous telepathic voice intoned in their heads. Now I will be reunited with my people.
And with that, the Martian Manhunter phased out of existence.
|N2: Two Birds, One Groan|
Groaning, flamebirde rubbed his head and shook his fist. Who the *bleep* had put that *bleeping*...
As he mentally swore, a shadow slid to loom over him. A voice that sent a shudder down his spine penetrated the Night:
“Now I have you…”
A lone form flew through the starry sky, patrolling the coast. The light of the silver-white moon, large and just shy of round, glinted off a golden hawk-shaped helmet and the spikes of a mysterious metal mace.
It was another blessedly cool, crisp Night, but the cold winds did nothing to chill the red-hot rage inside the warrior’s chest. In fact, the memories of the conversation that drifted through her mind only fueled the flames of her anger.
That Lantern...he was lecturing her on what it was to be a warrior? What gave him that right? She had fought tooth and nail for her right to wear the Thanagarian warrior mask, had been recognized for her skill in battle by other warriors who found alongside her and granted the honor of carrying Nth metal mace. He had been given a fancy piece of jewelry by some shrunken old men who had never set foot outside their home planet, let alone on a battlefield. And before, he had run around, patrolling patches of mud with other humans, fighting for some black tar that ultimately did more harm than good for their own planet, and waving around, of all things, guns...guns! A coward’s weapon. Oh, that man...
So engrossed in her thoughts was she that she failed to notice the magical wall in front of her until she crashed unceremoniously right into it head-on, like...well, like a bird into a window. The jolt spasmed through her body to her wingtips and her vision began to darken. Moments later, her lithe form plummeted down...down...down…
Felix Faust leered as he watched his target squirm. “Kekekekeke...I may have failed last Night,” his thin, stringent voice hissed, “But it seems toNight I will have easy prey.”
As he spoke, his pale, gaunt fingers meticulously wove a spell through the air, creating a cage of mystical energy around the still disoriented flamebirde. A twist of his bony wrist and the cage began to shrink in on itself.
“Now be smothered by the overwhelming power of the greatest wizard of all time!” he cackled.
Finally returning to his senses, flamebirde shook his head. “Prey?” he echoed, incredulously. “I am no one’s prey.”
The warrior spun around, her magical weapon smashing through the conjured cage with ease.
Her wings spread proudly and she glared at her would-be attacker. “I fought wizards stronger than you in the Thanagarian system when I was barely a hatchling. You’re no more than a two-bit relic, whose parlor tricks only serve to humor children...well, maybe not so much in this day and age with the internet and all…”
“Everyone has their weakness, even you, warrior,” Faust hissed and began chanting in a barely audible tone.
“Yeah, and yours is talking too much,” a familiar voice interrupted...too familiar.
A green glow greeted the corner of Hawkgirl’s eye. “Pfff, I didn’t need your help.”
“As amiable as always, I see,” the form of Green Lantern quipped. “And what would you know about humor, you were born without any.”
Hawkgirl’s lips opened to produce a retort, but they froze in horror as a blade forged of mystical energy lacerated the Lantern’s chest. “No!” she cried, running to him.
Even though his had been the heart pierced, she felt pain stab sharply through hers. She tore off her mask and cradled his limp form in her arms.
“John…” She squeezed his blood-covered hand. “I’m sorry…”
He looked up at her, his pupils, which were becoming less impossibly green, dilating. His voice was weak, and fading. “Shayera, I’m…”
She leaned in.
It took the warrior a moment to realize that the pain shooting through her chest was no longer purely emotional. She gaped down at the blade of mystical energy protruding from her chest before jerking her gaze back to the form in her arms, which was...dissolving?
Understanding dawned on her as maniacal cackling grated into her awareness. She turned blood-shot eyes to her murderer.
“So the proud warrior is nothing more than a silly girl at heart,” the wizard taunted, “Foolishly falling for a ‘parlor trick’ that, how did you put it, ‘would not even serve to humor children’.”
Hawkgirl flung her arms, desperately feeling around for her mace, but she saw it was far away, where she had dropped it to run to the dying illusion. She tried to pull herself up, but instead burst out coughing, spewing blood around her. Memories flitted through her mind as her body collapsed, of her home, of her Thanagarian comrades...and of her new ones. One final image floated into her mental screen and stayed there...those impossibly green eyes...
Faust sneered as the Thanagarian warrior’s body fell, lifeless, onto the blood-soaked earth. “As I said...everyone has their weakness.”
|D2: Missing in Action|
On a prominence overlooking a deep valley whose rock walls blazed a brilliant red in the light of the setting sun, the heroes gathered to mourn their fallen friend. A cool breeze swept up the newly fallen leaves, waltzing with them over the long, solemn shadows projected onto the dusky earth.
“She was a great warrior, strong and loyal, and she was a good friend,” Wonder Woman spoke reverently, and the others nodded. “May her gods return her spirit to the world from whence she came.”
His jaw set far more firmly than any of the stones around them, Green Lantern turned and stamped away from the group. Zatanna levitated after him.
“John, I know she meant a lot to you,” she began, reaching out a hand for his shoulder. “I could sense her feelings from the magic of her aura, and I know you meant a lot to her too…”
He rounded on her with those intense impossibly green eyes. “Then you know I have to find her killer. Don’t get in my way.”
The magician sighed. If only he knew...“Then let me come with you. I can help.”
The pair searched long into the hours, until the last remnants of Day retired, but they could find no leads.
|N3: Saved by the Swell|
Warily glancing one last time at the residence he was leaving, the harbinger of fate shook his head resignedly and stepped through the light filled portal.
As he wove through the flow of space time with the presence in his head, however, his sixth sense became alerted to another presence, one outside of his head, outside his gold helmet, outside of him.
It is you, he spoke to it telepathically.
Yes, it replied. I have been monitoring your wager with Brainiac.
The gold-ensconced head nodded. It has been difficult for both sides, and far from conclusion. But that is not why you’re here.
No. There was a pause. Have they been prepared?
A deep breath from the portal traveller. I have begun, but it will take time.
A longer pause, then: There may not be time, even for you. They are coming.
Under the yellow glare of the porch light, the young man fiddled with his collar nervously, casting timid glances at his companion. “So…” he began, working up his courage. “Can I see you again?”
Nana laughed lightly and leaned in to her would be suitor’s cheek. “Well…” she whispered, and the young man leaned in closer to catch her words. “We’ll see…”
With a suggestive smile she twirled around and stepped through the doorway to her house, closing the door behind her and leaving her date with a befuddled expression on his not-too-bad-looking features. She leaned back on the door and chuckled to herself. It seemed the strapping lads were falling over themselves trying to court her.
“So you’ve finally returned,” a deep throaty voice accosted her.
She spun around to meet the gaze of a tall man of formidable stature who wore a red horned helmet. “Who are you? And how did you...oh, nevermind, don’t tell me...magic, right?”
The man harumphed. “You dare to keep a god waiting and now you expect answers to your questions? Such insolence!”
“Uh…” Nana gave him a challenging look. “You’re the one who came into my house uninvited and definitely unwanted. So you should answer my questions. Like, what are you doing here?”
Ares threw back his helmeted head and emitted a roaring laugh. “That will be answered soon enough...when I kill you.”
Nana sighed. “Again? Can’t you people just leave me alone? What did I ever do to you?”
“I am a god!” Ares raised his hands to the sky as if in demonstration of his power. “You should be honored to be sacrificed in my name.”
“Uh...no thanks.” Nana pulled her hand from behind her back, revealing her cell phone which she had just speed dialed.
A moment later, the door came crashing down, and a strapping lad came charging through.
“Hey, I just fixed that!” Nana threw her hands up in exasperation.
The new arrival blushed contritely but turned his attention to Nana’s attacker. “I won’t let you hurt her, you Villain!”
Ares grinned smugly. “Please, I will not be deterred as easily as that useless wizard with the lean and hungry look. I am a god.”
Letting out a primal howl, the savior lunged at the attacker, fist raised.
Easily intercepting his arm in midair, Ares laughed. “You want to fight me? The god of war?” He lifted an armor clad fore-arm and cuffed the lad across his face. “You really think you can win?”
Hunched over, the young man wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand and noted the blood there. He turned in Ares’ direction...and grinned. “No...but we can.”
A confused expression crossed the former god’s brow. He slowly twisted around, following the direction of the lad’s gaze.
Behind him stood a small army of well-built young men, all glaring at him. At their center stood Nana, holding up her phone screen, which displayed a brimming call log.
Ares frowned, his pride warring with his instinct of self preservation. Finally he came to a decision. A blinding flash of light filled the room, and when it faded, the god of war…
...was nowhere to be found.
|D3: Bored to Death|
Having been lured to this “Mind Lair” or whatever it was called by the promise of another one of those delicious massacres that was known to pop up here on occasion...something about gangsters or whatever..,it had expected a colorful feast, but instead had been sorely disappointed.
Watching the all-too-pacifistic group from the awning of a gothic building, between two stone-faced gargoyles, its icy fingers ran along the edge of its scythe blade, which glistened hungrily for its next meal. “Patience, baby…” Death cooed.
“Please, you’re making a mistake!” Twoaday cried, casting pleading glances around to his companions.
“It has been decided,” Green Lantern spoke solemnly, “You killed Hawkgirl, and you’re going to pay.”
“But I didn’t!” the accused pleaded. “I didn’t...someone is setting me up...”
“Liar!” Green Lantern bellowed, and summoned up a giant green hammer with his power ring. “I’ll pound the truth out of you!”
“Well, finally…” Death began, and prepared to swoop down on its prey.
“You sure you want to do that?” an impish voice inquired.
Death did not have to turn its hooded, faceless gaze to see the little man who had just come through what the humans would consider an anomaly. Or perhaps the little man had come through long ago, or had yet to come through...time was strange to it, it was Death after all.
“Every entity must die,” Death spoke calmly, and then did turn to ‘face’ the man. “Even you.”
The little man giggled, and vibrations seemed to ripple out through what the humans would call space time itself. “Yes, yes, I will, I am, and I have!” He hopped from one foot to the other. “But I’m bored.” He frowned. “I mean, I can’t really do anything now, or at least what this dimension considers ‘now’, I mean, I could, but you-know-who has that plan and we both know if we let it play out things will get far more interesting...man, talking in straight lines is hard! How do they do it in this dimension?”
Death was silent, in consideration. Then it nodded. “Then let it play out.”
That evening, a report was sent to Watchtower. A body had been found.
|N4: The Calm Before the Storm|
A ray of moonlight slipped through the crack between satin drapes and tickled the eyelids of the slumbering Justice Leaguer.
Below those lids, eyes shifted back and forth as the JLer’s mind floated through a strange abyss. Surrounding the JLer appeared to be a multitude of stars, pinpoints of light in the odd, , whose radiances cast a bronze halo throughout the not quite linear space.
As the JLer’s consciousness drifted, the JLer became aware that one particular point of light seemed be brighter than the rest, and pulsing with an eerie reddish hue. The JLer willed their astrobody (or whatever form they existed in here) towards it.
Coming near to it after a period of truly indeterminable length, the JLer realized that the light was not a star, but a glowing orb. The JLer squinted and willed themselves closer.
The pulsing the JLer had noticed was actually images flashing within the orb. The pictures were a little foggy, but as the JLer concentrated, they began to be able to make out some of the scenes:
A figure in green, enveloped in a glowing green aura, stood on the pavement as a streetlamp flickered and burned itself out behind him.
John? The JLer mentally queried, confused.
As if hearing, the green figure’s head turned, showing a shaded profile. Then the figure stepped to the side and turned his body...revealing a bloody, mangled corpse behind him.
The JLer mentallly gasped and drew back. If they had had a hand here, they would have covered their face with it. John, what have you done?
The green figure stepped towards the perspective of the JLer, and his face and chest started to emerge from the shadows.
No, not John. The JLer felt a breath of relief, followed by even more confusion as they noted the symbol on the man’s chest. That’s not a Lantern...what is it?
Before the JLer could discern the shape, the image changed.
A dark, cowled man poised stoically atop the rooftop of a brownstone building, his silhouette outlined by the smoggy Night. In the alley below, two armed and masked men were taking the purse of a woman and the wallet of her husband. One of the men cocked his gun at the woman’s wrist, and she shakily removed her golden bracelet.
The cowled figure shook his head in contempt, and turned away.
A man in blue armor with a yellow crest and a red cape lounged on a red velvet sofa, staring at a black-haired woman carrying a golden lasso hooked at her waist. She circled around him, stepping seductively, and bounced the green object she held in one hand.
The man licked his lips and made a grab for the it, but the woman intercepted it adeptly in her other hand and waved it at him teasingly.
Snarling, the man seized the woman around the waist and yanked her into his lap. She laughed and placed the object, a green crystal, into the man’s open palm.
The man looked down at it with hungry eyes, and then abruptly clenched his hand into a fist, pulverizing the crystal into a powder. He brought it up to his face and inhaled. Leering madly, he pulled the woman to his chest and…
Startled awake, the JLer shot up in bed. The JLer blinked and their gaze was immediately drawn to the glint of moonlight off something golden. After a moment of re-orienting their mind, the JLer realized that it was a helmet.
“Yes. So you have seen it.”
“Yes, but what is it? You said you needed my help and I did as you said, but you never told me why?”
The golden helmet nodded grimly. “It is time.” It turned up, revealing eyes that glowed white hot. “I shall explain…”
The little man screeched with glee and hopped up, causing the translucent stool under him to vanish. “I win again!”
Death gave the barest of nods. It knew this interloper was cheating, toying with chance in that way of his, but it was of no import. Games, plots, stratagems...they were all of no import. In the end, there was only one thing: death.
But somehow these entities were resisting it, and its scythe was becoming ravenous. If Death could feel, it would have thrown its head back in frustration.
But it could not. So it turned back to the little man, who had finished setting up another board of 5 dimensional bingo, and resumed the game.
|D4: Canary Cryed|
If sound could have echoed in space (it can’t...physics and all that…), the vociferousness of the arguments that inundated the Watchtower that afternoon would have rang throughout the galaxy.
“J’accuse!” Araver pointed a righteous finger at plasmid.
“No, you’re mistaken!” Plasmid pleaded. “You must have received bad information…someone, please tell him!”
The others murmured to themselves, but no one spoke up.
“Well, looks like we’ll finally have justice for Hawkgirl’s murder,” a confident smile crossed araver’s face. “Well, I have a city to save, so I’ll leave the peddling out of punishment to you all.”
After his form vanished in the teleportation chamber, disintegrated into a million particles to be reconstructed back on earth, the Justice League closed in on the accused, somber expressions on their faces.
“Wait…” Plasmid tried to make one final appeal. “I believed araver was mistaken, but now I realize that he is very likely purposely lying! Please, do not be taken in by him! He is the Villain!”
The Justice Leaguers (and enemies hidden within) exchanged glances, but slowly began to whisper in agreement. Yes, perhaps that was the case…
“Well, that oughta do it,” Araver nodded in satisfaction and stepped back to admire his own good work.
The would-be terrorists (the ones who were still mostly conscious, that is) squirmed around in the ropes that tied them together and made muffled protests under their gags.
“I think I’ll give myself a spa day. I deserve it,” sighing, he envisioned the feel of warm stones being gently massaged down his back…
A real sensation touched his back, but it was definitely not gentle. A massive force sent him flying into a parked car, whose alarm promptly began blaring.
“What the…” Araver pulled himself up from the dent created by his body’s impact (he hoped the owner had insurance), and shook his head.
Looking up, he was greeted by a line of stony faces.
“Uh...hey guys, what’s up?” he asked cautiously. “And what was that for?”
The line parted in the middle, and plasmid stepped forward. “We’ve seen through your tricks. You’re the one who must be punished.”
“Wait...wha…” But before he could finish the thought, Superman came forward and cued a powerful punch. Araver didn’t have time to think...his reflexed kicked in...
Having been highly trained in combat, Caravery leapt up gracefully into the air and dodged. However, Flash, being...well, you know...blinked up behind him and wrapped him up in Wonder Woman’s lasso.
“Let’s finish him!” a voice hissed.
Green Lantern held up what looked like a triangle shaped piece of glass. As he aimed the beam from his power ring onto it, though, it began to glow and after absorbing enough power, a blast of light exploded from the center.
“Is that...stop!” Caravery cried, but it was too late. The white shaft of light projected latched onto her and dragged the bird of prey into the phantom zone.
The owner of the hissing voice smiled.
|N5: Dee Dawn of Dee Dead|
Closing the freezer door, onetruth paused briefly to beam at the “Parent of the Year” award her kids had made her which was pinned there. She popped open the lid to the pint of Chunky Monkey in her hand and brought a luscious spoonful into her mouth. Mmmm...sweet and creamy...heaven…
“Almost done,” the handyman called to her from below the sink. “I found the leak, I just have to change the gasket and then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Thanks! Would you like some lemonade...uh…sorry, I forgot your name?”
“Joe,” was the slightly muffled answer. “And that would be mighty kind of you, ma’am.”
“Least I can do to thank you for your help,” onetruth replied, reaching up to forage around the cabinet for a glass. “You won’t even let me pay you…” succeeding in finding one, she began to twist around, “...are you sure…”
The glass hit the floor and shattered into a hundred shards as a giant green hammer caught her from behind.
“What the…” But before she could finish, another blow took her right in the gut, bowling her over.
Slowly the head of the green hammer rose up, preparing to deliver the final blow. Onetruth closed her eyes and prayed, waiting for the end. I hope my family is well taken care of, I hope my son makes it into little league, I hope my daughter gets over her fear of swimming, I hope my husband gets that raise he’s been wanting, he deserves it, I hope my father’s arthritis doesn’t worsen, I hope...wait, why am I not dead yet?
Tentatively she opened one eye, then the other when she saw what was before her.
Joe, the handyman, was standing in front of her, the muscles in his back (an impressive set, she noted, even in the circumstances) taut as his arms firmly pushed against the green hammer. Gritting his pearly white teeth, he tightened his grip on the hammer and, with a loud grunt, snapped it in two. The broken hammer of energy disintegrated.
Wiping a bead of sweat from his square brow, ‘Joe’ turned to onetruth. “I must confess, ma’am, I lied to you, I’m not a handyman. I had a feeling you were going to be in trouble toNight so I came to see if I could help. I apologize for the deception.”
“That’s...alright,” onetruth spoke slowly, waiting for the beating of her heart to calm down. When it did, she shook her head. “I’m the one who should apologize. Where are my manners. You saved me. How can I thank you?”
The not-really-a-handyman grinned boyishly. “Well, how ‘bout that glass of lemonade?”
Dee_dot tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the newest episode of Sword Art Online II to load in her Crunchyroll app. Man, the wifi connection was slow toNight. She hoped her neighbors hadn’t hacked her password...again…
Suddenly, though, the screen of her ipad went dark. A moment later, an image appeared, but it definitely wasn’t anime.
“Good evening,” a synthesizer modified voice spoke. “I hope you are enjoying it. It will be your last.”
Looking skeptically at the shadowy silhouette she frowned. “Right...and you’re going to kill me? From inside my ipad? With what, magic?”
The silhouette threw his head back in a laugh, allowing moonlight to glint off his bald head. “No, don’t be ridiculous. Magic is for the weak minded.” (It was hard to see, but he seemed to be smirking.) “My means are much more...effective.”
“Okay, well, if you’ll excuse me, while you’re expounding on your evil scheme of how you’re going to kill me, I’m going to go call for help.” Dee reached for her cell phone.
“Oh, but I’m not.” The smirk seeI’m not going to kill you.”
Dee pause. “Huh?”
“No…” The man leaned forward, and she could make out a glint in his eye. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re going to kill yourself.”
“Why would I that?” Dee gave her conversant an incredulous look.
The man sat back again. He was silent for a moment, then: “You have a sister, don’t you? Sweet girl, funny too. Real hard worker, trying so hard to ace her exams for med school. Too hard, if you ask me.” He shrugged in mock ingenuousness. “She has such a bright future ahead of her...It would be a real shame if something bad were to happen to her…”
“Don’t you dare touch a hair on her head,” dee snarled. “If you do, I’ll…”
“Oh, of course, I’d never dream of laying a hand on her,” the man replied quickly. “But you know, young girls these days, they’re so emotional. Like, if their boyfriends suddenly break up with them out of the blue and their friends snub them...well, it could easily drive even the most well-mannered girl into the tenuous hand of drugs, and that in turn could cause them to fail their exams, sending them deeper into those clutches, and if the dean found out, somehow, they would be expelled, and be forced onto the streets, and then...well, who can imagine where it will go from there…”
Dee bit her lip. She knew who this man was now, and she knew he very well had the resources to make what he was threatening real. With a shaky hand, she drew open a drawer where she kept a handgun, ‘for emergencies’.
“Fine, you win,” she conceded and closed her eyes.
The red sun glared at plasmid from above a stony ridge as he backed away from the circle of glares at his front. A few stones were set loose when his heel met the edge of the cliff, and went tumbling down, down, down onto the jagged rocks below. He briefly glanced back and swallowed.
“Wait, I know it looks bad,” he protested, holding his hands up. “But, really…” He closed all but two fingers of one hand and waved it in front of his chest. “...I’m not the baddie you are looking for.”
The grim expressions on the faces of his would-be executioners didn’t budge. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way,” Batman stated with his trademarked cowled scowl.
“Please guys, listen to me…” plasmid pleaded.
“Begging is for the weak,” Wonder Woman shook her head in disgust. “Go to your death like a warrior!” With that, she rushed forward, swinging her short sword.
Plasmid jumped back to dodge and landed on...nothing.
“Well, good riddance,” Nana commented, stepping up to the edge of cliff. “Well, I suppose we should at least collect his body and send it back to where-ever he came from.”
The others agreed, and Green Lantern created a platform of energy to carry them all down to the canyon floor. As they were lowered, they murmured among themselves. Who was plasmid, and where did he come from?
Those questions were not answered when they arrived at the basin, however, because where he wasn’t, or his body at least, was there.
Disclaimer: There are no hints in the Day Post, everything is for storyline purposes/creative license, including but not limited to: which characters are still alive, which roles are in the game, and what caused a non-death in case of one.
The man in the moon seemed to be laughing at Felix Faust as he trudged down the suburban sidewalk. “Heathens,” he grumbled to himself. Why did they keep sending him out to do their ‘dirty work’, that bald epitome of greed with the intolerably smug smile and that bellicose, minorly magical mongrel who kept insisting that he was a god, and worse, kept insisting everyone else address him as such? He was a wizard, the greatest of all time (Merlin? Please, that sham could not even enchant a sword correctly...getting it stuck in a stone like that...wait, people thought he did it on purpose? How ludicrous!), whose skill could alter the fabric of existence itself, given the correct circumstances, and they were sending him out like some hired gun?
As if to taunt him, from somewhere, a small dog began yapping. He ground his teeth.
He shouldn’t have had to deal with such discourtesy, and he certainly shouldn’t have had to deal with this nuisance. Something had gone wrong toNight, the gateway he had created should have delivered him directly to his target’s home, not five blocks away, forcing him to walk the difference. He hated walking. No self-respecting wizard should ever have to walk!
The commencement of some sprinklers brought him rudely out of his ruminations, and, he realized, he had passed his destination...and would have to walk back.
He threw up his hands into the air.
Onetruth clicked “Post” and sat back, smiling to herself. The picture was a good one of her, the top she was wearing brought out her eyes, and her smile shone brightly. The man standing next to her was also smiling broadly, displaying a set of perfect white teeth. Come to think of it, he never did give her his real name...although he didn’t seem to mind posing for a pic for her to Facebook…
There came three brusque knocks on her door. She frowned. Knocking? Didn’t whoever it was know how to use a doorbell?
“Who is it?” she inquired. There came a response, but it was a mumble that she could not make out over the barking of the neighbor’s corgi. Briefly she considered ignoring it, but then the possibility of it being Joe again occurred to her and the sight of those impressive shoulders crept into her mind’s eye…
Straightening up her hair, she pushed out of her chair and went to the door.
A grin was plastered over her face as she threw open the door, but it froze when she saw what stood on her doorstep…
Not the mighty specimen of a man she had been hoping to see, but an unimpressive man who was so gaunt he was bordering on skeletal, whose thin hair hung scraggily out from under a drenched hood and whose had-seen-better-days (or better centuries for that matter) purple robe was dripping water onto her “Welcome” mat.
“I’m...here...to kill you…” the man muttered through clenched teeth.
Her eyebrows arching incredulously at the appearance, soggy, hunched over, with his head down, and onetruth burst out laughing.
In that moment, something seemed to snap inside Felix Faust. A fountain of power he held never felt before seem to erupt along with his rage.
Sparks of electricity seemed to crackle around the man’s form. He slowly lifted his head, revealing his face from under his hood...and his eyes seemed to shoot lightning.
The laugh died in onetruth’s throat. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could…
The next morning, reports of a freak lightning storm was all over the news. There had been one fatality. Apparently some poor woman had been struck while standing in her own doorway.
FreakinFan52 has posted a new link
Woman Dies in Doorway from Lightning Strike
DETROIT - A freak lightning storm hit a unassuming suburban neighborhood last evening...
Skepchic: Wut, srsly? Can that rly happen? :o
R.Palmer: Scientifically speaking, it is a nearly impossible phenomenon, but, truly, stranger things have happened...
Annataz: @R.Palmer: There are things out there that are outside the realm of science ;).
th3qu3st1on: Are you saying there was something else behind this incident??? O.o Are you saying someone caused it?
misteremmexwhy: Teeheehee! Yes it was me! I played with space-time. Now I can rhyme!
Skepchic: lol u r nutz, man. @_@
Pandora333: THEY ARE COMING!!!
|N7: Amazo Grace|
Lifting her hand up to her face to cover up a yawn, Nana shrugged the strap of her backpack up a little on her shoulder as she approached her house. It had been a long Night of studying, and her eyelids felt about as heavy as the books in her bag.
As she neared her porch, though, her droopy eyelids popped up. A grin spread over her face as her gaze alighted on the meticulously wrapped parcel that had been left there. Yay, presents!
Excitedly, she plucked it up by its shiny red ribbon and glanced at the card. “Admiring you from afar, Alexander”, it said.
Just then, her phone ringtone began buzzing a techno version of “It Ain’t Easy”. Tucking the gift under one arm, she answered the call and tucked the phone behind her ear as she fumbled in her jacket pocket for her house keys.
“Hey, what’s up?” she spoke into the phone, finding the correct key and unlocking the door. Turning the knob, she shifted her weight forward to nudge the door open.
“I was just checking to make sure you got home okay,” the caller answered, a little shyly.
Nana laughed. “You’re so sweet,” she remarked, rolling her eyes. “I’m okay. Great, actually. Someone left a gift on my doorstep!”
“Oh...uh…” Notes of disappointment and jealousy could be shrewdly detected in the young man’s voice. “I guess it must be serious then, huh? With this, um…”
“Eh,” was Nana’s reply. Dropping her bag on the counter, she picked up the gift and shook it lightly. “Actually...I don’t really know the person who sent it...claims to be an admirer or something...name’s...Alexander?” She took the ends of the ribbon in her hands and pulled.
“What?!” Alarm replaced the other undertones in the caller’s voice. “Wait, don’t…”
But it was too late.
Kikacat absentmindedly scrolled through her social media feed on her iphone, intermittently wincing in pain. With every step, the plastic bag she clutched rustled and the extra-large bottle of aspirin inside jangled.
It had been some Night, and her ‘friends’ had posted all the evidence online for the entire world to see. As she caught sight of one particularly incriminating photo, she winced again, this time not from the throbbing in her head.
She was saved further embarrassment, at least temporarily, by a massive explosion that seemed to shake the ground she was walking on.
Steadying herself, she glanced around and noted the enormous plumes of smoke rising from a house (or the remains of one) about a block away. That looks bad, I hope no one was hurt, I should call for help she thought as she shakily lifted up her phone and inputted 9-1-1. However, her thumb froze above the “phone” button as another thought crept up: Hmm...I could be the first one to Instagram this...
Before a clear victor in the war waging in her mind between social responsibility and social media could be determined, however, a laser beam of some sort shot out from somewhere and fried the device in her hand.
“Wha...OWWW!” Kika cried, dropping the red-hot iwreckage. Shaking out her hand (now throbbing nearly as much as her head), noticed the shadow looming over her and turned her gaze up to greet the source of the attack.
Moonlight glinted off the metallic exterior of the humanoid form levitating above her. Its eyes stared down emotionlessly from a smooth, featureless face, and glowed with a radiance that seemed somehow...dark...dark and soulless.
“You...what…” Kika stammered, both startled and intrigued by the creature’s perfect apathy. It floated down, closer towards her, and she reached out a hand to touch its flawless metal shell.
Perfectly cold, perfectly lifeless...it was not dead, like a corpse, no it was...devoid of life, and devoid of death, an entity, a thing that seemed to transcend both those ‘universal’ concepts.
“Hello,” she said, slowly, dreamily.
It looked at her, as if computing what she had said. Then it replied with what it had calculated as the correct response.
Kika had barely the chance to experience the shock of the green energy lance piercing through her chest before the entity’s unfeeling perfection became the last thing she saw.
Cough* *Cough* *Inhale* *Cough*
Choking for air amidst the smoke, Nana managed to push the door of the refrigerator door open, the debris on it sliding off. With a grunt, she pulled herself up to her feet. She fruitlessly tried to pat the dust off of her while she searched around for her phone. Finding it under what had been her favorite lamp, she gingerly picked it up with two fingers. When she saw it still worked, she sighed with relief.
“Thanks for the warning,” she told the young man who was still on the other end of the line with a sooty smile. His words had registered just in time for her to dive into the (relative) safety of the stainless steel fridge. “You really saved me.
|D7: Luth-or Dare|
The remaining heroes, villains, and...well whatever Amazo was now, pushed in on Barca, edging him towards the dock’s drop off.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” he warned them, wobbling slightly at the sight of the vacillating waves.
“Yeah, yeah, we know you’re not one of us,” Nana dismissed, cocking the barrel of her gun at him. “Now walk.”
Gritting his teeth, Barca took a few more steps, slowly, deliberating. When he reached the very edge of the platform, he spun around, eyes blazing.
“You fools! I may not have been your friend, but I could have been your ally. You needed me. You have signed your own death warrant.” His gaze directed unwaveringly at Nana.
If looks could kill…
...but guns can.
Barca’s body fell into the watery depths below.
|N8: The God Who Fell and the One That Rose|
Flipping the page of the Earth 2 comic book, Leonard Snart, who committed crime under the alias Captain Cold, winced as he felt a sudden pain in his eye.
Keeping his good eye on the costume clad characters on the page, he blinked and rubbed his other eye vehemently, but to no avail. As a reflex, he moved towards the window to use his reflection to attempt to locate the offending eyelash or stray particle of dust, but glancing up, he was reminded that these particular windows had been specially coated with a matte finish.
“Aarrgh!” He threw his hands into the air and turned an accusing gaze on his cellmate. who was meticulously constructing a house out of playing cards (left in the cell by the previous inmate *cough*). “Why did I have to be stuck in here with you?”
Sam Scudder’s hand tremored as he placed the next piece, and the entire collection was sent fluttering the the dull concrete floor. Making a face, he turned an indignant expression to his former compatriot. “Me? It’s your fault we’re in here in the first place. If you hadn’t insisted on…” his voice increased an octave as he did his impression, “‘having some fun with those righteous rigarolls’ with your ‘new and improved ColdMaster2000’, and we had made a quick getaway like I suggested, we wouldn’t have gotten caught.”
“It’s the ColdMeister2000,” Snart huffed. “And you’re the one who portaled us directly into a Justice League get-together.” He raised his arms in a shrug and then looked down at his clothing in disgust. “Ugh, now I’m stuck in this ugly orange jumpsuit…but I guess you’re used to wearing ugly orange attire…”
Scudder ground his teeth, but then a smile slipped slyly onto his lips. “Well, I guess a decent sense of style can’t be expected of someone who dresses like an inuit in the middle of summer. Maybe you should look in a mirror more often...oh, wait, sorry, you can’t…”
With an angry noise, Snart lunged and grabbed Scudder by the collar of his ugly orange jumpsuit. “Why I outta…”
The awareness of solid footsteps made him pause, though, and as the large, well-muscled guard toting an imposing black baton passed by their cell, he glared at them. Snart released the other man’s collar and patted it smooth, and gave the guard a demure smile. Scudder forced his face into a grin as well and put a peremptory hand on his ‘buddy’s’ shoulder.
After the sound of footsteps faded the hand stiffened and his fingers dug in, his other arm reaching for the coldmeister’s throat. Snart let out a shriek, then reared his arm to punch the self proclaimed Master of Mirrors…
An assault of white light from behind them froze the pair in place. They blinked simultaneously and moved their hands to cover their eyes.
Near a farm in Kansas
The Night was heavy, microscopic particles of water dangling throughout the air, in suspense, waiting for the final curtain to drop. Dense clouds rolled over the Night sky, threatening the occasional shudder of electricity.
In the darkness, two forms met at a crossroads, with cold wind whipping at the fabric hanging behind each.
Finally a vein of lightning ventured to strike down, illuminating the pentagon-inscribed S on one and glinting off the metallic toolbelt on the other.
“It’s down to us,” the Dark Knight spoke. “We’re the only ones left.”
The Man of Steel nodded grimly. A small strained smile crossed his lips. “Also seems kind of fitting, doesn’t it?” Long lashes blinked down and the glimmer of reminiscence entered his gaze. “Remember how we met?”
There was silence, then the reply, “I remember I gave you a pretty good beating.”
Superman’s eyebrow raised and when he glanced up at the face of his friend, he saw something there that wasn’t usually: a grin. He shrugged and took a deep fortifying breath. “Well, let’s go then and pass that good beating onto these Villains.”
"Such naivete,” a booming voice scorned.
The World’s Finest spun to find the armor-clad figure in the red horned helmet floating in front of them.
Batman’s muscles tensed in preparation for an ensuing fight, as they had been well-conditioned to. Superman’s fist clenched and his jaw set into stone.
Ares sighed. “I am not here to fight. Fighting you would be pointless. Here.” He tossed a small black box at Batman’s feet. “We borrowed this, now you may have it back. I have more use for it.”
“Is that…?” Batanova felt around the compartments in his belt, and sure enough, it was gone.
Phil-el’s brows furrowed. “Are you saying we should work together?”
Ares’s laugh was more bitterness than mirth. “No...it is far too late for that.” He raised his arms. “I am the God of War. I know millennia’s worth of battle strategy, and I cannot see a way to win.” His voice took on a grudging tone. “As much as I loath to admit it, the Luthor mortal was correct. Without him, neither of us stand a chance, even if we allied.”
“What are you talking about?” Superman frowned. “I could never ally with you. You are evil.”
Another acerbic laugh, deeper this time, and, perhaps, stained a tinge with madness. “Yes,” the God of War conceded. “Yes, you are right, I am evil. But that is exactly why you could have allied with me.” He shook his head in disdain. “I recognize good and evil. I recognize morality and principle. You know my motivations, you know my capabilities. You could have persuaded me, we could have reached an agreement. But that thing...it has no principles, has no motivations. You could persuade it no more than the force of gravity. All you can do is wait to be crushed in its wake.”
The former deity threw his head back to laugh once more, but instead it was jerked violently to the side with a powerful blow, and his armored shape was sent smashing into a silo a few hundred meters away.
The golden form of the android hovered above the heroes, staring at them with its featureless face. Behind it, the lightning seemed to intensify as its vocal mechanism activated, producing a Mandarin saying Batman recognized.
“Speak of Cao Cao, and Cao Cao arrives,” he translated. “Seems like it has learned some things.”
“Well, let’s teach it a few more things,” Superman goaded, and as he crouch to load his attack his cape and the dust around him lifted into the air.
Keeping his eyes on their enemy, Batman reached carefully behind him to retrieve a batarang and his hand closed in on...nothing?
The unforeseen circumstance only disoriented the League of Assassins trained warrior a split second, but that was enough. A lightning fast spear of green energy pierced the Dark Knight’s chest.
With a cry, the Man of Steel shot towards the android, fists extended in front of him. A sonic boom erupted as his Kryptonian physique accelerated through the weighted air.
The super-beings collided and the momentum carried their tangle into the air, a blur of blue, red, and gold.
The exchange of super-speed punches continued as they climbed, up, up, up...through the stratosphere...the mesosphere...the thermosphere…
Below their battle entwined forms, the outline of the continent could be discerned, nudging out of the green-blue oceans, as a pair of concerted punches jarred the combatants apart.
Amazo’s inorganic limbs hung loosely. His eyes remained on his opponent.
“You cannot win.”
It was not a boast nor a challenge, but a simple, clear statement of fact.
The Man of Steel’s teeth clenched as did his fists. “We’ll see about that...don’t underestimate us...don’t underestimate humanity.”
“You are not…” But before the statement of fact could be completed, the last son of Krypton slammed into the android, and the once again entangled pair propelled back towards the earth.
Sparks flew and the android’s metal shell blazed red as they crashed through the layers of the atmosphere. Superman managed to turn the android’s body so that it took the brunt of the re-entry force, but the pressure front still pushed on him decidedly.
Gritting his teeth, Batman gripped the burning hot spear of energy in his hand. With a resolute grimace, he gave it a hard yank and it slid out of his shoulder.
He allowed himself a brief scream of pain and to fall back onto his back for 2.3 seconds to catch his breath. Then he turned over and pushed himself up.
Ignoring the pain, he searched around the surrounding darkness. His well-honed reflexes had allowed him to dodge just enough so that the energy blade had not hit any vital organs. He’d live...for now. But if that thing had learned the abilities of Superman...well, then he’d definitely need that.
He located the shape of the box a few feet away in an intermittent strike of lightning. Limping to it, he picked the box up and opened the lid slightly. That ominous but expected greenish yellow glow greeted him.
A sudden massive jolt of the ground as a form crashed to earth almost caused him to drop it though, and a closely following second jolt, just as hard and caused by second crash, knocked him off his feet.
The force of the impacts had created compression waves that flattened the wheat around the smoldering bodies in a circle (which no doubt would be trending on Twitter the next morning…#mysteriouscropcirclesinkansas).
Still ignoring the pain, Batman crept up to the nearest circle. The form in the center rose slowly, as if disoriented, and the Dark Knight could make out its smooth metallic outline.
Noticing the green energy spear nearby, he inhaled and quickly grabbed the scorching shaft. With a quick movement, he flipped open the lid of the box and plunged the tip of the spear into the glowing yellow-green rock, coating the edge of the energy blade.
The android had gotten up to its feet and was shaking out its golden head when it saw the dark cowled form leaping towards it. It held up a hand. “Hold on...wait…”
The kryptonite covered energy spear drove into its golden chest. Its form convulsed in shock, then sagged into Batman’s arms.
Sporting an ostensible dent in the side of his helmet, with one shoulder drooping awkwardly and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Ares began laughing uncontrollably as he levitated precariously towards them.
Even with every molecule of his body screaming in pain, Batman graced the Greek god with his trademarked cowled scowl. “Now you want to fight?”
Ares shook his head, mad tears flowing down his cheeks as he tried to restrain his laughter. “No...that’s not…mmh…” He swallowed and cleared his throat. “You mortals are so easily fooled.” A grunt interrupting one last chortle, he popped his shoulder back into its socket and wiped the blood from his lips and then turned a smug, knowing gaze onto the vigilante. “It seems that the android has not only learned my aptitude for strategy...but a little magic as well.”
The scowl remained for a moment, but then turned to alarm as realization dawned on the caped crusader. His gaze darted to the figure in his arms...the limp, lifeless blue and red form of his best friend, now free from the illusion that had been cast on it.
“No...it can’t be…” the man stammered, his usually unusually slow heart-rate pounding. He fell to his knees and cradled the unmoving body. “No...no...NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Suddenly the masks of the vigilante, the Dark Knight, and the protector of Gotham were stripped away, and all that was left was the shaky young boy whose parents had been brutally murdered in a dark alley.
A flash of lightning revealed a golden form towering behind the bat-shaped outline. An enormous green broadaxe was raised above its head.
Thunder clapped in the distance.
Ares lowered his gaze and turned away as the crying orphan was finally put out of his misery.
Releasing the axe and allowing the energy to dissipate, Amazo turned to his remaining adversary and his golden form ascended into the air slowly, deliberately.
The God of War held his ground (or, more accurately, airspace) and stared stonily at the android - no, it was not fair to call it that. It had been created as an android, but it had been gifted with an unparalleled capacity to learn, and with each ability it learned, it had also learned to increase that capacity, to a degree that even its creator could never have in his wildest dreams imagined. It had been an android, but now...now it had become something more, something that transcended…
A fat raindrop plopped onto Amazo’s smooth head and slid unimpeded down the perfectly curved surface. It was followed by another...then another...then another and another and another…
Plasmares and Nanazo held unwavering gazes on each other as the heavy rain poured down around them, the droplets drumming in anticipation of the battle about to commence. Lightning struck down, as if giving the ready, and then…
As the thunder roared, the titans clashed in a fury, the glint of their armors slashing red and gold streaks into the Night sky.
Dodging a golden punch, Ares crossed his arm and slipped his hands through the seams to pocket dimensions, pulling out a pair of swords he had magically stowed there. Letting loose a warcry, he struck.
Amazo’s arms shifted into the shape of blades as he parried, at first clumsily, but learning and improving at an unfathomable rate.
Finally the blades locked in intertwined crosses, the adversaries pushing with equal strength. With a quick calculation, Amazo opened his mouth and emitted a supersonic cry.
The compression force of the Canary Cry thrust Ares backward, but he managed to catch himself within a few meters.
Keeping his eyes fixed on his opponent, Ares lifted his arms to his sides, palms upward, and magically drew a multitude of swords from their various pockets, beautifully crafted, deadly, carefully collected over millenia.
As the first wave of blades fully emerged, he brought his arms forward and the weapons were sent flying at the golden being.
“Evrews,” Amazo pronounced, holding up a hand. The trajectory of the missiles turned and curved around him.
A second wave of blades pommeled towards it from its side and it created a green wall just in time to block the onslaught.
A third wave was knocked off course by a golden imitation of a batarang.
And so the siege continued, with Ares sending each wave progressively faster and Amazo countering by learning new methods of deflecting the attack at an even more expedited rate.
At last, Ares lowered his arms. “It seems my larder has been emptied,” he remarked wryly.
The emotionless golden stare remained. “Do you capitulate?” the toneless voice asked.
The God of War lowered his helmeted head as if in defeat. Then suddenly, there was a rumbling as all the swords which had been dispatched rose up in a circle around the golden being, a veritable fleet...no an ocean of gleaming metal.
Ares howled and the waves of steel imploded together, a million skewers piercing through Amazo’s golden shell simultaneously. The force of the collision sent a shower of water droplets exploding through the air, spraying all that was around.
A victorious grin spreading over his face as the rain died down, Ares shook the precipitation from his face. “You may have learned my aptitude for strategy, but it seems you still have a few centuries before you are my match.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Ha...ha...hahaha...ehch…chchch...”
Coughs quaked through his chest as blood spurted into his lungs and up to his mouth. His wide, disbelieving gaze lowered...to find the tip of a blade protruding from his chest, shimmering with his blood.
“I am not your match,” came the even, matter of fact tone. “I am superior.”
The mass of swords being magically held fell as the lanced golden illusion dispersed and clattered to the earth.
The sound delivered memories to Ares’s waning consciousness, of celebrations thrown in his honor, whence great warriors and children who strived to become great warriors clanged their weapons on their shields and exalted his name. A dreamy smile wafted over his bloody lips as his eyelids drifted closed...
As the God of War’s body tumbled to the field below, the transcendent golden being surveyed the devastation around him impassively. It had been an immeasurable battle, and, at last...
It had won.
“You finally awake?” a female voice teased..
Groaning, Bruce rolled over and his eyelids fluttered open. His blurry vision slowly cleared, and he found himself staring at the ceiling in the medical bay of the Watchtower.
“Wha...how did I get here?” he inquired groggily.
“With great effort,” the female voice answered. It seemed...oddly familiar. “You almost died, but we managed to get to you just in time.”
“Are you…” he turned his head and confirmed his suspicions. “...Zatanna? But you died…”
“Actually,” the magician, the reports of whose death had clearly been premature, shrugged. “I faked my own death, and then used my magic to alter your memories.”
“My death as well,” an arrogant voice added. Bruce turned to his other side and it took all his lauded self-control not to gape.
Sitting besides him, on a sickbed in the Justice League satellite, frowning over a carton of tapioca pudding, was...Lex Luthor.
Zatanna grinned sheepishly. “Sorry...it wasn’t actually my idea.” At the querying look he gave her, she exposited, “Doctor Fate came to me a few Nights ago and told me he needed my help. A greater threat is coming and we needed to prepare, to gather the team to face it.”
The heroic billionaire shot the avaricious one a skeptical look.
The pretty magician let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know...but...he’s necessary. I’ll explain…”
But before she could, the floor...no the Watchtower...no the world itself began to tremor as a rift tore into the fabric of space and time.
“Too late…” Zatanna gulped. “They’re here.”
...to be continued...
(Whew...sorry that took so long, but I think it was worth, I hope at least some of you do too :lol:)
End of Game Roster Edit
Dr. Fate: Y-san
- Phil1882 - Superman
- Nana77 - Amazo
- bonanova - Batman
- tolecnal - Martian Manhunter - lynched D1
- flamebirde - Hawkgirl - killed N2 by Supervillains
- onetruth - Green Lantern - killed N6 by Supervillains
- dee_tot - Green Arrow - killed N5 by Supervillains
- plasmid - Ares - killed N8 by Amazo
- TwoaDay - Zatanna - lynched D3
- Kikacat123 - Felix Faust - killed N7 by Amazo
- Araver - Black Canary - lynched D4
- Barca - Lex Luthor - lynched D7
|List of actions|