by Michele | Aug 31, 2018 | Chronicles
Oliver Queen: Mr. Queen! Mr. Queen. Can we get a comment on your thoughts of what is happening in Bialya?
“Sure! Sure. I think what’s happening in Bialya is a travesty. Those innocent sand people in Kandyduk. Really. Bialya should be ashamed.”
Kahndaq.
“Kunduk.”
Kawwwwn-dawk.
“Wait. Biayla invaded Canada?”
No. It’s pronounced…
“…it really doesn’t matter, those people down there deserve better, but what could they expect. Propping themselves up with some vigilante lord as their King? This is really the problems with Vigilantes, in any form. You see it starts small. Maybe you’ve got a Batman today, but that Batman gets a Joker. A Penguin. A Black Masque. Eventually your Batman has to become Superman. Then what does Joker become? Well, then you’ve got yellow-ringed freaks and whole cities going missing. Now? Now we have a whole nation under siege.”
So. For clarification, you’re saying that Biayla’s attack on Kahndaq is because of Black Adam?
“I’m sure there are other things at work, but let’s face facts here. Would the attack have gone the way it did if not for Black Adam? If not for his reputation? Absolutely not. You’ve got a guy who claims to be powered by the Gods and for all we can see he just might be telling the truth. How do you protect your own borders from someone like that? Absolute power corrupts, right? I’m just saying. If we let these people. These Unlawful meta-humans run rampant in the world? Eventually they’re going to take it away from us.”
Uh. Okay, Mr. Queen. Anything else?
“If President Luthor had any Balls he would make the Vigilante bill a Federal one. Play that on Sports Center would you?”
Later that same evening.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hello, Dinah. Listen, I know you’re busy and there’s no telling when you’ll hear this message, but I figure that I owe you at least a heads up. I’m going straight Dinah. I’ve already signed the immunity papers. But I had to give them Names. They’re going to be coming. For Diggle, for Roy. For everyone. Maybe even you, I… I don’t know.”
There’s silence for a brief moment. Then another voice. A familiar voice telling Oliver that it’s time to go.
“I know you’re going to be mad, but listen to me. Actually hear me. Roy’s out there. With a Baby. Trying to be the goddamn Arrow, with a baby counting on him. This world is insane. I can’t take it anymore. We’ve got to stop all of this insanity. It starts with us. When they come… you sign the papers. Don’t fight it. For once in your life, just suck it up and knuckle under like your Grandmother did.”
Click!
Dinah: There’s any number of reasons why I don’t answer my phone. Sometimes I can’t be bothered to explain to someone that didn’t get that I really meant it when I told them ‘so long, thanks for the good time, but I got what I wanted and have a great life.’ That excuse hasn’t been in the rotation much lately, mostly because I’ve had my plate full with a few other things, and random hookups have not been one of them. Sometimes, my cell phone is silenced and I’ve just forgotten that turning the ringer back on is a thing, or it’s fallen under the couch and been forgotten. Occasionally, I just don’t want to talk to whomever is on the other end, even if it is someone regularly in my life. Last but not least, there’s the times when the universe is in line, I have my phone, it’s making noise, and I’m actually busy with something else. Which relegates phone communications to lesser importance in my book.
Right at the moment, that’s beating up a teenage girl. Who’s asked for it, and voluntarily shows up damn near every night for the dubious privilege. And tonight I happen to be a little more dedicated to it than I have been previously. If anyone actually questioned my methods, which they don’t but… God they probably should…I’d tell them it’s because she’s been improving, so I have to scale up the difficulty. Which is actually, shockingly and amazingly true. Spoiler apparently doesn’t have any quit in her, which some nights I think may be her only really endearing quality, and at the same time her most obnoxious. Depends if it’s useful effort or talking that doesn’t stop. Have I mentioned she doesn’t get to do much talking if the training’s hard? It’s turned out to be a pretty good meter stick for when she’s ready for more.
Deep down, I’m also very aware that it’s just a little bit of punishment for facilitating Red Robin’s not resting his shoulder and getting it taken care of like I think he should. But we don’t talk about that. I’m pretty certain, however, that the fourth time that the prone and gasping girl on the mat has pointed out that I have a message it’s because she’s ready for a break and isn’t going to say as much until she passes out.
Look. I can be a bitch. But I’m not a one hundred percent a bitch. And there does hit a point where no more ‘lesson’ is going to be absorbed, and muscles are too fatigued to even make an attempt at making any sort of memory. As I step over a sprawled limb, I feel a moment of what I think might actually be a teensy bit of guilt, and make my way to the flickering led light on the screen of the phone that I barely use for more than you would an old rotary. Sometimes I use the timer, too, though.
The name attached to the missed call is enough to make one side of my mouth draw upwards, though it’s not a smile so much as as an unhappy sneer. Normally I’d like to say I’d feel differently about it, despite my abrupt departure from Star City. That hadn’t been because of Ollie, or anything he’d done, so much as what was going on here in Gotham and the call of ‘family’ I just couldn’t ignore. I am really not sure if I’m glad I missed that call or not, because I’d love to give the person on the other end a piece of my mind. I know it’s not ‘my’ Ollie. That this is some plant of NOWHERE’s. One that I was already intending to deal with, even before the anti-vigilante bill, but I just hadn’t acquired the leverage I felt necessary to make them pay for it, and to make them hurt so the lesson would stick.
Clearly, I have an M.O..
I don’t actually get all the way through the message. Eventually white knuckling it gives way to pivoting on the ball of a bare foot and hurling the thing as hard as I can at the closest wall. Right about the time I’m being told to suck it up and… if there were any question of whether or not I’m in control of myself in the moment, it would be answered by the fact that my enraged shriek doesn’t knock the stunned looking Spoiler caught mid crouch into an insensate pile of deaf blonde on the floor. There’s no concussive force to it, just feelings I don’t know what to do with.
Well. That’s not true entirely.
“…seriously what is it with you guys and throwing things at…”
“We’re done, Spoiler. Out.”
“Like…done like for now or done like…”
“For tonight. Out.”
“…is there…something that I can ooookaygoingbye…”
by Michele | Aug 15, 2018 | Chronicles
Superman: There’s no word of the arrival of Wonder Woman and the Flash. Not for the rest of the ‘Team’ that was sent from the United Nations. In fact the entire camp would have surely been caught unaware, if not for the simple fact that I rarely go anywhere without keeping a vigilant watch upon my girlfriend. How did the real Superman always show up just in time to save Lois Lane? The answer isn’t really as nice to think about as some people would gloss over in their pursuit of super-fandom. He could zero in and listen to her from just about anywhere on the planet. If the Earth wasn’t round and filled with pockets of Lead here and there, I could see her from just about anywhere too.
Her so-called Invisible Jet? Honestly it’s a little impressive. I’ve inspected it up close. The technology that went in to it renders it almost literally invisible. You could walk in to the thing and not know it until you smashed your face. On top of that it’s covered stem to stern in sonic dampeners and psionic baffles. Who ever built it thought it through too. Because I couldn’t even get a look at the inner workings, because it’s got a carbonized lead allow lacing the entire design. When she’s inside that plane, I can’t see her or hear her. Normally that might trip me out, but I’ve had a lot of things to worry about here in Kahndaq. Not to mention our talk about ‘trust,’ which suggested that I need to be willing to do -my- job and trust that she’s safe in doing her’s too. Still drives me crazy when I can’t see or hear her for extended times, but that’s also why I’m listening even harder and notice the moment she’s out of that Jet. Not to mention much closer than I think she should be.
She isn’t coming in to some nifty college town, like we’d planned for this weekend. Nope. Shiruta was once upon a time something lovely. With ancient architecture that would have made for a very appealing visit for someone like Cassie, but I’d bet her driving lessons that she’s going to react poorly. That’s why I’ve flown out to meet her. Well. Her and I suppose Wally, though I’ve basically taken to ignoring him the moment Wonder Woman and I are in the air.
“It’s not pretty, but it’s better than it was Monday. We’ve managed to clear most of the wreckage by this point. The Capital City is clear of fighting. In fact from Egypt, to Shiruta is mostly peaceful at this point. Other than the uprising of militants that are rushing to Adam’s side for vengeance.”
“Your Mom isn’t here. She and her assistant took two camels and went out in to the desert. Heading for the Mountains to the East. For whatever reason, I lost sight of them once they cleared the desert and made it to the treeline.” As we make our way from the coast, towards the Capital city, I give her this ‘briefing’ but as I’m being all informative I’m also not treating this like I would a briefing for my team. They don’t need to know about Cassie’s Mother, but Cassie would be wondering. Just as she’s likely also here because of… “Freddy here too. He went to meet with Adam. He came to talk to me about not getting involved, then he went right out there and tried to talk Adam out of fighting. Seriously, that guy’s a little creepy.”
“Both. Of them. Are creepy. They know too much. They talk too much. Freddy’s always giving you these pep talks ‘Ra-ra-ra-Go-Superman’ and Adam’s always like, ‘Go fetch my slippers Peasant.’ The two of them had a very nice little talk though. Adam made sure Freddy was aware that all of this is his fault.”
Wonder Woman: There’s a very good reason for that. Other than the Invisi-jet, though that’s the technical reason why I could pull it off. I could have flown here in a relatively short amount of time, considering the distance crossed. Not nearly as fast as Flash could have run, but I’d been willing to give him a ride most of the way to Khandaq because I was already taking the jet, whether he took the ride or not. I hadn’t wanted anyone to know that I was coming, because that gave time for interception or preparation and… honestly all that sounds a little more devious and calculating than I was really being about the whole thing. There’s a lot of reasons why coming here isn’t a good idea. But what’s more important is the reasons that I think it’s the right one to make regardless.
I’d made it very clear, to the best of my ability at least, to my travel companion on our brief (very brief because…boy does this jet jet) flight over that we’re not going to Khandaq to fight. We’re here to help people, defenseless people, in crisis. It may still happen, the fighting, but it wasn’t the purpose of my trip. Like so many other things, we’ll get to that when it comes, if we have to, but there’s many reasons why it’s a bad idea to seek out. NOWHERE for one, who already has a team here. I don’t doubt for a moment that any slight excuse to spin our unsanctioned activity as provoking some kind of international incident would be jumped upon with glee.
We’d disembarked before actually hitting Khandaqian airspace, the jet set to autopilot itself into hiding, with Wally continuing on foot and me in the air. This side of the nation wasn’t likely to be in as much of a hot zone since it’s the opposite direction from Bialya. We’d decided upon a rendezvous location to begin our humanitarian efforts, and then I’d been left feeling…well. Even slower. Which is probably a strange thing for someone who moves as fast as I do to feel, but I have a whole lot of faster things to compare myself to. And lately, stronger as well. Speaking of…
The red and blue turns up even faster than I expected it to, and I was expecting it wouldn’t take terribly long. No, this isn’t exactly the beach weekend we were expecting to have, and that we’d started in California under the auspice of touring Stanford’s campus and checking out housing options for the next school year once I’ve graduated, and once no one’s asked too many questions about why Conner and his can’t be bothered level of grades got him there as a Junior. Because… he’s a Luthor who also happens to be just enough into ‘really really good’ territory at basketball. This is the way of the dual life we’re trying to have though, isn’t it? And now that I’ve taken the time to catch up on what’s going on here… I’m proud of him for being here, and what he’s doing. Even if I don’t care for the people that have aimed him.
“You lost sight of them? That’s foreboding…”
My Mother isn’t why I’m here. No matter how much sulking I may have done about being excluded from the dig she is on right this moment. If it’s just her and an assistant, that means it’s been downgraded in size considerably over what I thought she’d be taking. Or maybe she just let me think that. The initial discussion/arguments had all been before I had a lot of information that I do now. She can very clearly handle herself, and knows what she’s doing far better than I do apparently. Still. It makes me curious. Had they gone through some sort of doorway, perhaps? Or was there just something interfering with his vision like the ‘secret room’ in the Metropolis Museum had.
And as for Freddy?
“I know. He called me. Well, Flash and me. I think I would have wanted to come anyway, but he asked us to come help.”
I just hadn’t known about the entire situation long enough to make that decision on my own, without the request to influence me. I’d gone from asleep California, to freaking out over Red Robin ‘in’ my hotel room, straight on to trying to unsuccessfully help another meta, and then there’d been all the phone messages.
“…Adam? Yeah, tell me abou… Oh. Both of them? I would call Freddy insightful more than creepy but. I suppose when you have knowing things as what boils down to a superpower it… could come off that way.”
He has a way of looking at you under what feels like a magnifying glass, and picking out the good things and bringing them to light. That’s one of his best qualities, and I’d been more than a little stunned at how the guy had cut to the heart of the brewing fight between Conner and I on the steps of that library not all that long ago. He’s got all the tools to nitpick out the bad, and exploit it, but that just doesn’t seem like him. And maybe I haven’t know him all that long, to make a real sticking judgement but… I also like to think I’m pretty good at reading people and their intentions. Most of the time. Truthfully the only thing out of all of this that makes me skid to a halt, kind of literally if you can really ‘skid’ in the air, is the last part.
“Wait, what? How is this Freddy’s fault?”
Superman: “I don’t like the phrase ‘lost sight of them,’ because that tends to give the impression that they just walked out of range or that stepped around the side of a wall. They weren’t even close to the event horizon where the world curves, they’re a few hundred miles away and poof. It’s like they disappeared. That’s crazy, but your family does things a little differently than most.”
Magic. Not my cup of tea in the best of times. So far it is one of the very few things I’ve encountered that I don’t have a healthy immunity too. I’ve read and see videos of how Magic was able to effect the original Superman, I count myself lucky that I’m at least a little more resilient to it than he was by virtue of being engineered that way. But my encounter with the out of control Billy Batson left me all to aware that there are limits to even my invulnerability.
I don’t like things that I can’t reasonably explain, either. Just having two normal people walk out of a desert and just vanish? Ugh. “Your mother was pretty specific about not wanting me to follow her, too. So I’ve been checking in, but where ever she went too? I can’t see it.”
“I’m not even going to do that thing I do where I take something you’ve said and then repeat it back to you with all the things wrong about what you’ve just said. I’m just going to say, simply, that having someone behave as if they know you? Thirty seconds after having met you. Is creepy. Raven does it all the time and it creeps people out. It just does. Not even just me. It even creeps out the telepath. So I know, for once, I’m actually right about something.”
At the height we’re at, it’s fairly easy to see Kahndaq in a very real way. Hard to miss the smoke from fires that haven’t been put out. The battles that still rage far out to the distance west of our position. The tent village that the United Nations ‘Peace Keepers’ set up is also something that I never thought I’d see. It’s haunting. It’s not difficult for someone who knows me as well as Cassie does to see the way my face screws up at the sight of it coming closer. I do not like seeing it, for whatever reason. In spite of talking about literally everything else? The topic of the tents, and what is going on there, is immediately avoided.
“Adam has been storming the Bialya forces. Honestly, I wanted to go but Doc Fairchild and Freddy both talked me out of it. Since Freddy is important to you, I kept watch on him as best that I could. I’ve been a little busy. He found Adam over near the Coast and the two of them had a talk. Actually, it was more like two different lectures. Freddy was batting lead off. He went in heavy with stuff about Hope and how he was there to try to stop Adam from repeating ancient History. A lot of the details weren’t really stuff that I’m keen on understanding, but there was a lot about things that happened thousands of years ago.”
“Then Adam went in to bat clean-up, boy did he. It was strange. The guy wasn’t screaming or ranting. He was eerily calm as he made sure that Freddy understood that all of this was his fault. Something about the Gods demand their Champion be tested and that they chose all of this to be the stage for his Final Trial. Something about Freddy had a choice. He could have abandoned the Trials, but someone else would have been picked and maybe all this happens anyway. But that these trials, specifically, are tailored for him. Something about them being broken, so the Trials are broken.”
The shrug isn’t because I don’t care about what I’m relaying, so much as I am really just repeating what I head. Not so much understanding it all. “He was pretty clear about this, this attack on Kahndaq, being the setting the Gods have chosen for his final Trial. So that makes him responsible for it. All the death. All the hurt and pain. How he handles that guilt is going to determine whether he passes the final trial.”
“If that’s all true. And what you said about your Dad being the one staging all these tests. Then, seriously. Cass, babe. You actually win the ‘My Dad’s a Dick’ contest. I’m not even sure how that’s possible.”
Cassie: “And we definitely don’t want to make it sound like your powers aren’t as great as… I’m kidding. Maybe they took a door to somewhere else, like I did to go and meet my Father. Or maybe there’s some sort of construct out there meant to hide people like a super low tech version of the jet. Or. There’s the different. Like you said.”
I happen to know magic exists, and is real. I’ve seen it, and while I may not know everything about my specific heritage and the weirdness surrounding that particular ‘area,’ it’s still there. But I also happen to fall pretty solidly into the camp so far where much of it can also be explained by science. Or both. What’s that saying? Magic is just science we don’t understand yet.
“She was pretty clear in not wanting me around, either. Even before the rest of this was going on, so I’d assume it’s all only upped her time table, or maybe just made her more cautious about anyone else getting involved.”
All I can really do for his argument about the general creepiness factor of what Freddy picks up is shrug. I suppose much of it has to do with what the person is telling you, whether it’s something good about yourself, or bad, or how open you are to someone gleaning information from you. I am, in my natural state, pretty transparent and open. Heart on sleeve maybe, even. It was only the powers, the hiding, that had brought on any real attempts at covering anything up about me. Conner’s a different story altogether for basically anyone but me. Maybe he’s not wrong about this from his point of view, but I don’t think I’m wrong, either. And any further discussion on that is waylaid by the look on his face, and that draws my blue eyes to what caused it. Part of me wants to ask because that’s not a look you’ll see on his face much, if ever. But my conversation with Batman before I’d left makes me fill in the blanks all on my own.
It’s a place I’ll be avoiding.
“Are you really sportscasting the meeting of the totally opposite minds, for me? I think I love you…”
But I am listening to what he’s saying, despite trying to interject some humor in the moment for… I’m not even sure why. Maybe to ease some of my own mounting discomfort over exactly what’s sprawling out in front of us. Physically, and in terms of events and possibilities. There’s so many ways for all of this to go even more poorly than it already has, for a lot of people. Or for it to spiral into something that can’t be coped with. It isn’t really until he approaches the end of all of it that I let out a snort, that is more or less Cassie-speak for ‘bullshit’ when I’m usually a little too polite to actually say the word.
“Or maybe that’s how Adam wants to see it. Looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, floats like a duck, the only sensible conclusion is that it is a duck. Or maybe it’s a decoy, and there’s a hunter with a whistle in the reeds, and it’s really just mortal man doing what mortal man has been doing forever apparently, and nothing ‘natural’ at all.”
Lifting my palms up, and spreading my fingers like I’m trying to ward something off, it isn’t as if I need them to fly. Something I quickly discovered after the ability to fly itself, was that there’s some… poses that just feel natural. Either because it’s how you’ve seen the act pictured, or it’s just what works for you, but the act itself is… I can’t even actually explain it.
“I’m normally completely in the my Dad’s a Dick camp. You know that. But they all… my Father. Adam. Freddy. They’ve all gone on about these trials being ‘broken.’ Adam just used it as a verbal weapon to try to break down Freddy, but at the same time… they all seem to think they’re still going to function as they did before. Why would rules apply, or the old mold still be used as an example, of something that’s broken it?”
It can’t be the final trial. I’m supposed to be the final trial, if it’s ‘business as usual.’ I’m in that moment very aware of the bangle on my wrist, the power in it and what it represents. What it’s meant for. I would never have orchestrated something so horrible and encompassing just to test Freddy. There’s easier, less traumatic ways.
“I do think there’s someone behind this. So does Batman. But he wasn’t thinking Gods and Mythological Monsters. And it’s not fair to put that on Freddy anymore than it would be even if this were some great Pantheonic chess game. It was someone else’s choice to set the board the way they did. Everyone else just has to try to deal with it.”
It still makes me feel awful for Freddy, and his good, kind heart though. Maybe Adam really does believe as he said, because that’s how it is from his perception. Just like Conner sees my friend as creepy, and I do not. And I know, were I in his position, I would probably feel guilty, too.
Superman: “So do I,” comes the all-to quick injection of my agreement. “None of this is atypical of how things should be going.”
However I’ve been a little wary of looking too deeply in to it. For a number of reasons. For the last two years I’ve been on a very short lead, when it comes to what my handlers will allow for. I know that I’m too powerful, personally, to do a lot of things directly to me. But it’s the indirect path to pain that I’ve been worried about. At the same time I’ve been feeling more and more drawn to the idea that I need to be more conscious of what and how I’m doing the assignments I’m being given. Some of that could have lasting repercussions too.
I’m also more than a little aware that I could be thinking this way for no other reason than because Cassie wants me to. So far, I haven’t really found a lot in the way of physical proof that Nowhere is the problem, so much as the answer, but… “My Father was very quick to step in, put me in the field with the Peace Keepers, publicly. Peace Keepers aren’t the only supers here. There’s more than a few of my team from Nowhere here as well.”
“Honestly, my Father made a point of telling me that he suspected something else going on here too. I can’t tell if he’s being equally sincere and paranoid himself or he knows something is up because he’s involved. It may not even matter as to why,” we’re not quite there at the tent city, when I get her to loop around for a bird’s eye view of the city in ruins. “While I’ve been working with the peace keepers to help the civilians, Kelsey’s had my normal team searching the wreckage. At first, I think she was looking for a clue as to what the hell would have prompted such a weird pearl harbor-like attack, but then they found something. Looked like the head of a spear, made from sort of metal.”
“I wouldn’t normally want to tell you so much of the ‘Top Secret’ stuff, because I think that only makes things weird for us but… look. Sometimes M’Gann buys in to the hype and thinks I’m oblivious like everyone else. Whatever that spear was? It’s not metal from Earth. And I don’t think M’Gann is intending to tell our Handlers about it. That more or less confirmed it for me. If she doesn’t want our bosses to have it either, then it’s probably bad stuff.”
“Which.. brings me back full circle. To the point that Adam made and that you kind of refuted. I think there’s too much going on here. Too many angles and they’re all going in different directions. Maybe my Father has one of the angles to play, but I can’t fathom how he actually benefits from Bialya’s attack. If anyone proves his connection, it would turn the whole world against him. So I’d wager he’s taking advantage of it, but not the one at the bottom of this. The trouble is? Someone gave Bialya funding for arms, tanks and boats far beyond their normal means. They advanced from terrorists to actual army in like three years.”
“Then there’s your Mother. Suddenly having a Dig in Kahndaq. Now this weird metal shows up.”
“Cass, I think you might want to consider that -this- is the work of … um… your people.” Opening those hands up toward the Heavens. “Maybe it’s not the actual Trial, but it sure feels like someone is working in mysterious ways to pull a lot of mythical elements together in a single place.”
“…and did you just say… Batman?” Did my eye just twitch, ugh. “Why in the hell would you bring a Batman to the Desert?! There’s no buildings to swing from. No shadows to pose in. Just tell me it’s the little Batman. Please.”
Wonder Woman: In a way? That actually makes me feel better about the whole paranoid idea. Or it seemed paranoid at first, when I was alone in my belief that this was all too convenient, and too well timed. I know Conner doesn’t exactly share my opinions and beliefs of what NOWHERE is and what it isn’t. It’s possible that the second opinion from the Wayne corner might have offset that except from what I can tell, their father was paranoid about many things, even if he was also right about most. Maybe it’s what drove him to gather so much information. So maybe that was two like minded people, with an echo chamber of ideals together. But you add Conner’s mostly opposing view to the mix? Now it feels more like a real thing.
“Which, I might add, is a really sexy look on you but… this is hardly the first conflict. And with everything and everyone coming here through different angles and means I… can’t really argue feels arranged. To a degree that I’m not even sure I can blame entirely on your Father.”
I don’t have Conner’s supervision, but my eyesight’s sharp enough to understand what I’m looking at below us. The level of the destruction, mixed with his emphasis on who was searching, and with whom. I know that M’Gann, or as I knew her originally Kelsey, is a telepath. He’s told me as much, and while I don’t know how powerful of one she is, just based off what I know of the rest of his team, I have to assume ‘very.’ She could then, I assume, have pinpointed any survivors on her own, if that’s what they were after. So, it’s like he said. It wasn’t people. It was things.
“Or maybe she was just so excited, or nervous, about what she found that she just forgot to worry about whether you were looking or not. Which. Also just makes it sound even more like something big.”
Nth metal. Which I’d never really heard of, until today, when Batman brought it up. And… Conner’s right. Talking the ‘top secret’ stuff, with us sort of on opposing sides in a way makes things… hard. Strained for me especially because I don’t like doing this whole secrets thing. I understand the necessity of course, but he’s given me something. And so I reciprocate.
“He thought that was a linchpin. A sort of metal. And… Batman, I mean. I don’t know if it’s the same but if that’s it, I still don’t understand why such an overt attack to go after it. Why not something more sneaky and less likely to get you Black Adam decimating your… an army…?”
Since it doesn’t seem like it’s really all Bialya’s at all.
“Unless. Lots of birds. Lots of stones that get to just look like one big one in the fallout. Mom’s dig isn’t sudden, but her coming out here now with everything else going on? Kind of is. I know she was pretending to not be as big of a badass as she is before, but we always stayed well clear of any kind of conflict when we’d go to sites before. It was never worth the risk to the history, she said. Or our lives. So that means something is so important that it is.”
This has become like so many other times, a moment when I wish that I knew more about my new world and the players in it. That I’d somehow magically made the transition from a good knowledge of stories and myths, to fitting them as functional pieces into a reality based world view. That I knew all the stories like a history textbook at school.
“And… I don’t know. Maybe it is, but it just all feels… blunt, when there’s quieter channels I’d assume they could work through. They’re not supposed to be meddling directly. That’s what the trials were for. What champions were for or… children. But… maybe that’s all broken too and all bets are off. If that were the case though, I have a feeling it’d be even more.. messy. Dramatic.”
My next snort is one of stifled laughter, because even in this serious discussion there’s something a little absurd about the expression he’s making. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it. Normally he’s so… sure, maybe even cocky and/or pleased with himself. Definitely in control and I’m one hundred percent sure I saw that eye-twitch.
“I didn’t bring him, I just spoke with him before I left to come here.” Absolutely true. I mean. He brought himself. In his own plane, and I don’t know if he’s even here yet or not, or where he’ll be once he gets here. My expression gets a little bit sheepish, and if we weren’t flying? I’d very likely be toeing the ground we were standing on. “Erm. No. Big Batman.”
Superman: “I’m not the world’s greatest detective, but I know how to think like a Luthor. If this metal is all that important, then maybe Batman’s right. It was definitely Alien. So much so that, like I said, M’Gann was really tetchy about it. Batman thinks it is important. M’Gann obviously did too. I’d say that is all the confirmation we need as to what’s the stakes for Bialya and my Father.”
“Except that, they’re not the only players in all of this. Like you said, it’s all too messy. To blunt force trauma,” this time I’m shrugging because of the simple fact that none of this is my area of expertise. I’ve always been the guy you send to solve the problem, not answer the riddle. I just can’t help but think this through like I was born, raised and trained to do. “Thinking about this from a purely political stance. If it really is about this alien metal. Then Bialya’s attack, the United answer… all of that could be a smoke screen. Something to put the world’s media off base, while they harvest this metal without the world knowing it. Or if they did know about it, maybe they wouldn’t figure out it’s origin.”
“… we’re talking in circles though, because the truth is? None of this matters. Figuring out the ‘Who, When and Why’ can come later. Right now there are people all across this country that are being rooted out of their Homes. Many of them aren’t going to make it through the week. Telling me it’s all happening for some rocks? Only makes me angrier and more inclined to put a stop to it regardless.”
No. That isn’t a speech about ‘Truth, Justice and the American Way’ but it’s just about the closest thing to have ever come out of my mouth. I know it too, the moment I’ve said it. That’s why I’m shrugging a little helplessly to my girlfriend, who’s watchful eye isn’t going to have missed anything about the way I keep avoiding the direction of those tents. So, I just cut to the chase on that topic too.
“The worst part? Is that I can’t stop hearing them. I can look away, but I can’t turn my ears off. Maybe the other Superman could, but I sure don’t know how to do that. It’s kind of …” Another shrug, this one as non-committal as the first. “.. driving me crazy.”
“Maybe that’s why I can’t shake the feeling that Black Adam is right. That all of this is connected to the Trials for Freddy or at least…. sorry.. but your people. You said if it was them, that it would be even more messy and dramatic, right? Okay, but what if it’s not like… your Dad. Not talking about full blown God here. I mean. Isn’t there someone out there? Pretending to be Adam. Trying to run the Trials off the rails? Killing Gods. Juicing up.”
“I mean. Freddy’s here now. Adam’s here. You’re here. That’s like how many ‘Gods’ all in one place? With a big old Human War, cover-up conspiracy about Alien minerals. Sounds fairly dramatic.”
And then. “Ugh.”
“Why him? Why that one? Can’t we just recruit the little Bat? It’s the same know-it-all attitude. Same bat-tech. Same everything in a smaller package.” It may as well be a verbal foot-stomp. “If I had to stay out of Gotham, why can’t there be a rule that they have to stay in Gotham?”
by Michele | Aug 9, 2018 | Chronicles
Booster: [Sploosh!]
“… aww what the hell…?”
::Do not worry, Sir. That’s just the sound Mr. Hunter’s time sphere makes when ejecting unwanted…::
“.. are you saying the time machine flushed us…”
::… like proverbial fec–..::
“…if you finish that statement, I’m going to flush you, Skeets.”
::Ah. Yes. Very good, sir.::
“Well. Where the hell are we?”
::Judging by the diameter of the room. In combination with the amount of discarded bottles of booze. Underlying stench of sweat. Along side of the multi-layers of soot, that is alternatively scrubbed clean and yet building up all over again.::
“You’re making all of this up to sound important, aren’t you?”
::Buying time to correlate date, Sir. I’ve learned from the best. Also. Photo-Identifying the woman behind you. I believe this is the apartment of Dinah Lance aka Black Canary.::
“…the time capsule dropped us in a B-Lister’s apartment? Well. Call it back. We’re going to have to… wait… did you say behind me?”
::Oh, sir. Don’t turn around. It will hurt less this way.::
Dinah : My home isn’t exactly a great secret, nor is it all that hidden. It’s my name on the building’s title, and a riff of of it adorning the neon sign of the Pretty Bird Bar. I may not take part in any of the day to day running of the business, or even do much in the way of oversight at all, but I own it. Another legacy from my grandparents, that I take living expenses out of, and the rest goes to the folks doing the work. For the last few years my apartment over top of it had sat vacant and collecting dust. It’d still probably be doing that, even though I’m living here once more, if I hadn’t acquired an OCD roommate basically the same day I’d come back to Gotham. Who cleaned it for me. And continues to clean it. Whatever floats his little genius boat.
He just hasn’t been doing it this weekend or there wouldn’t be the assorted collection of empty bottles. The sweat comment I might have maybe taken offense to, as I stand barefooted with a beer dangling from my fingers, except that it’s probably coming from downstairs. Along with the soot. I haven’t attempted to cook anything in my kitchen that only actually has foodstuffs in it because someone else bought them, so it’s not me burning anything into vaguely edible state.
Unexpected ‘guests’ popping up in my home? When it’s the bar portion I have to roll with it. When it’s up here? Well, it just doesn’t normally happen. I was happy enough to stay put, silent after my initial moment of confusion and alarm, and let whomever this jackass is continue to feed me information. And his little… robot? Too? Then he called me B-Lister, and started to move, signaling the wait is over. It starts with a heel delivered into the back of one knee, not so much a kick as a step off that’s intended to begin a stumble so that my knee roughly kidney height will finish the toppling momentum.
I haven’t dropped my beer, but still leaves me a hand free to grab a handful of hair and help with face meeting …well… Tim hasn’t been here in a couple days. It’s probably not that clean… floor.
“Different kind of hurt, maybe. Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my apartment?”
Booster: There comes a series of sounds. They sound a lot like: Urk! Oof! Thud! Pretty much in that order too. Blink, Blink. What the hell was that?! Ooomph.That last one was improvised. Let’s call it my ad-lib for the camera.
::This is the illustrious, peerless hero of the ages. Who’s Tale of Good Deeds is matched only by his endless string mostly successful dates with all twelve calendar girls. If you measure success by the virtue of times he managed not to be…::
“Skeeeeeets! Not helping!”
::Really sir? I thought this one was going quite well. You’ve managed not to tap out …::
“…not helping…”
::Ooooh. Ma’am. Be careful. Rug Burn is very difficult to account for in photo shoots.::
“…S k e e t s…”
::Yes, right. Most sincere apologies Madame. This is Booster Gold. The Greatest Hero of the Modern Age! Circa 2242. Cast in to the past in search of anomalies great and small.::
“…we don’t know why we’re here.. we just got dropped here!”
::Ejected, technically. Prior to crashing. Fear not. It was only statistically Booster’s fault. Could have happened to anyone. You’re certainly not to blame, Sir. Turn that frown upside down, Sir. Think of the photo op we’ve been presented. You took that fall like a champ, sir. I’m certain you will only need marginal dental work.::
Dinah: You know, on a regular evening I might chalk this one up to some sort of prison break in Arkham, because that’s where you get your typical whack jobs with delusions of grandeur. Or sometimes at Wayne Manor but that’s another set of problems. Someone who is… or rather whose robot is claiming they’re from two hundred plus years in the future, probably belongs there on a good, normal night in Gotham City. Except I’m not drunk enough, I’m not drunk at all despite the look of my home, to have imagined that sudden appearance right in front of me, which means…
“Time travel now? Well, that’s just what we need.”
Shifting my weight grinds that knee a little more firmly into the part of his back I’m using for a pinning point, and the other end I’m holding onto isn’t much more kindly treated as I take another swing of my drink, watching this ‘Skeets’ with more wariness than the person I’m sitting on. Well. Kneeling on. Just in case it starts shooting lasers or doing who knows what. I hate technology.
“Mmm. Well. Since you seem to know everything and do the talking for him… Skeets? Is it? I don’t think this one really needs to be able to speak…”
But I haven’t been peppered with any lasers and no one’s actually making any moves to dislodge me from my perch so they’re not reading as terribly hostile. Doesn’t mean I don’t still use a little more force than necessary to leverage myself up, and it’s more kicking him off his stomach than ‘rolling with my foot’. Slim margin of distinction. My hand planted on my hip now, the other around the neck of the bottle as I look down rather critically, not the least bit concerned by my attire or… more like lack thereof. I’d settled ‘in’ for the evening with no intent of leaving again short of an emergency, which means underwear and an old, stretched out sweatshirt that barely covers those and not much else.
“You probably ought to un-eject him right back up to wherever it is you came from then.”
Booster: ::Thank you ma’am! Your kindly praise is accepted, though I assure you that while Booster’s jawline is handsome, it does often get us in to much trouble.::
“…um.. I’m right here…”
::I would, purely for purpose of branding alone, request that you not permanently damage it overly much. I believe the phrase meal-ticket is appropriate.::
“…you do know that hurts right? I think my spleen has been dislocated.”
::Don’t be silly, Sir. Your spleen is perfectly fine. Your L5 vertebra may need an adjustment. Assuming she does not apply roughly three more pounds of pressu– Oh look! Sir, she’s flipping you over. Time to flash that smile to make the girls swoon, Sir.::
“Ungh…ow ow and ow… that time was my spleen for sure. Gentle! Be Gentle.”
Fzzzzt!
:: Oh. Sir. Premature Quantum Fission again? Don’t worry, Sir. I’m sure Miss Lance will hardly notice the carbon scoring on her floor. Hardly any reason to cry yourself to sleep like last time.::
“… that’s never happened before…”
::Miss July. Miss November. ::
“Does your history banks tell you how much I hate you right this second?”
::No sir, but your spandex tells Miss Lance how much you appreciate her state of dress.::
“… could we please go back to the topic of why we’re here?”
::Of course, Sir. We can’t go back Miss Lance. Not until we’ve corrected the timeline. Could you point us in the direction of Theodore Kord?::
Dinah: “Your spleen’s also not necessary. You should be thanking me for not aiming at something you might need later. Or I can just see if I can rupture it from the outside…”
So I’m a little aggressive. But he is in my home, and I’ve never taken kindly to being surprised or caught off balance. Clearly not so off balance that I hadn’t been able to act but then, his back had been turned and this ‘Booster Gold’ had apparently been an incredibly easy target. I don’t know which I want to scoff more over right now. The name, or the hero of the ages part. Either way, my facial expression isn’t reading anywhere near swooning or impressed. And that’s before he apparently has a fission on my floor.
“That story won’t be punching many meal tickets here. A little free advice to go with playing nice. I’d pick a new line, because that one is going to get you committed or impounded.”
And yeah, I totally look, tilted head shifting slightly as Skeets’ helpful commentary continues. My wrinkled nose is more over the fact that I find my drink empty when I go for another swig than the view, though.
“Ted Kord? What did he… you know what… I don’t actually want to know. This sounds like a migraine in the making.”
God, but I really still kind of do…
“At his house, I’d imagine. Or at Kord Enterprises. Don’t you have the internet in all that….”
There’s a vague hand gesture encompassing the Robot and then Booster and back again.
Booster: ::Which line ma’am?::
“…wait, are we talking about my spleen or my lines?”
::Fear not, Sir, we have your collective best interests at heart in any case.::
“Hey that’s fine with me. We can’t discuss future events with a Civilian anyway.”
::This particular Civilian is currently holding you down with one hand while drinking cheap liquor with the other, Sir. Perhaps we should choose our adjectives with better purpose.::
“…. what is … internet?”
::She is referencing the archaic system of wireless data transfer used in the 20th century. However, it is a potentially viable solution, if madame Canary could direct us to a functional terminal or share her wireless password.::
“She could also. In theory. Take her knee off of my spleen. Unless. She likes what she sees?” Wink. Wink.
::Sir, silence is often the better part of valor.::
Dinah: “Time travel. Hero of the Ages. Both the sort of things that get you all sorts of attention, and probably not the kind you want. Well.”
Pursing my lips considerately as I look down at this Booster Gold again. I’d been paying more attention to the talking robot, because I don’t have a whole lot of worry, or faith, that Gold’s going to manage to dislodge me without effort that I can counter even not watching. Which starts the inevitable spin of questions through my brain. Even the things I don’t want to think about for reasons that start with ‘time travel.’ He knew who I was, or why assign me to a ‘list’ at all, and is he really some sort of hero or does he just think he is?
“Maybe it’s the kind of attention this one would think he wants. I know we just met and all, but I’m definitely getting the going to get himself messily murdered doing something for likes vibe.”
Does she like what she sees? ‘She’ is clearly taking a moment to dubiously assess the man pinned to floor again, before planting the flat end of my now empty beer bottle in the middle of his sternum, and using it to leverage myself into a standing position.
“She’s seen better. She also doesn’t have a computer or know the WIFI password. Best bet in here is going to be my cell phone. Unless that’s also too archaic, then you’re just going to have to wait until the public library opens in the morning. I assume they have one.”
Unless it’s been stolen.
“What do you need with Kord?”
Booster: “Look. We know all about this point in History. You don’t have to lecture us about the worries of your little Nobody fiasco. This point in history is infamous for the insanity you people let loose on society.”
::For once, Sir is correct. I fully briefed Booster before embarking upon our journey to this Century. We are fully prepared to evade the legal authorities and not bring attention to ourselves.::
In the unending circle of dialogue, this is the first time that there’s no immediate response to that. Bring no attention to ourselves? Not exactly something that looks to be high on the Golden Boy’s Agenda. However there’s a shrug to those shoulders as she finally gets off of him. Whether that’s because he’s accepting the pronouncement of Skeets or that he can’t help Dinah’s lack of taste is anyone’s guess.
::It isn’t precisely what we need -from- Theodore Kord. So much as what we need him to not do.::
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about the whole ending the world thing with the Civilians.”
::Dinah Lance is not a Civilian. She is rated extremely high on the circle of trust files from The Creator.::
“Stop flirting with the B-Lister.”
::Er. I was not…::
“So,” climbing off the floor is much easier than it might seem, what with the ability to levitate upright in a very ‘showing off’ sort of way. “Listen. They’re not going to detect us. The reason we were ejected out of our time bubble, was specifically to avoid this time period’s ability to track temporal events.”
“We’re also sporting psi-baffles. So we shouldn’t show up on any of the tepe-radars. All we’ve really got to do is avoid crossing paths with anyone that matters and find Kord. Before he destroys the wor–..”
::SIR! We cannot speak of these events. The butterfly effect sir. Anything you tell her might ripple out and cause additional…::
“You said she’s high on the circle of trust list. She at least knew Kord’s name. And she’s kinda hot. I’m sure she’s harmless.”
::As you wish, Sir. Forgive me for forgetting that we measure potential temporal paradox effects by the size of a lady’s bust.::
“Damn, right we do. By my calculations she’s temporally harmless.”
“So. Put the booze down and let’s save the world with the power of WiFi?”
Dinah: “NOWHERE.”
The simple correction made as I step to the side, though I’m still within easy striking distance. Not because I feel like I might need to, but more because I’m very sure I may just want to. I have a small flock of people to take out my aggression on, in the guise of ‘teaching moments’ but no matter how much I may batter and bruise on occasion to get my point across, I only take my aim to hurt so far. As the two intruders go back and forth with their dialogue, I just stand there with my empty. Blonde head cocked to one side as I mentally run through all the ways I could maim and dismantle. If I wasn’t the good guy, of course.
They seem to be yo-yoing back and forth between not waiting to ‘spoiler’ (ugh) things and give me too much information, and between rambling things that… maybe they don’t think are information but are still ticking off on a list in my head like bullet points.
“Just the temporal ones? I’d imagine something like that spits out a fairly large amount of energy though…”
I may loathe nearly all things more technologically advanced than my VCR player and television, but I’m not an idiot. I’ve also gotten a lot more versed lately in exactly what sensors in the area, and out of it, may or may not be able to pick up in preparation to make a move on the aforementioned NOWHERE.
“Boy. You sure seem to know everything.”
See, Oliver Queen and any number of other men could have told you that the simpering sweet tone that just started to come out of my mouth should have also started up a whole series of alarm klaxons. But they’re not here, so there’s really not much warning for me putting down my ‘booze’ in the form of flinging it from the pivot of the long neck, spinning to make contact bottom first with the only other discernible throat in the room. It’s not going to shatter. Too thick. Part of why I like that particular brand of awful beer. Makes a good blunt weapon though.
“Except where to find the linchpin of your plans. Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. I’m just so temporally harmless. I think someone in the neighborhood has an unsecured network. My roommate bitches about it at least twice a week.”
Booster: ::Rip Hunter’s time-sphere internalizes it’s energy combustion. There is no metaphorical tailpipe that might exude stray energy particles to be traced. It’s part of the time-stream-pollution counter-measures.::
“She’s not really as interested as you may think, Skeets. I’ve seen that thousand yard stare more than once in my days.”
::Oh, I’ll bet you have sir.::
“It’s not that I or we know everything, but we know enough. Not only was I briefed but there’s also Skeets. He’s here specifically to fill in any blanks that I may have mi–”
::… sir …::
“–issed. He’s actually quite handy to have arou–… ack…”
::I was going to tell you to activate your force field sir, but… then I remembered the ‘Never Interrupt Booster Protofol.’::
Skeets would probably move to render medical assistance, if it were not for the fact that one hand managed to deflect the bottle from truly impacting with a clear throat-shot. Leaving one incredulous, sputtering, Booster Gold and a very pleasant android who’s hovering closer to Dinah Lance now that Booster has been silenced.
::While you’ve been conversing with the Intrepid Hero of the Age, I’ve been navigating your so-called wireless networks nearby. It would seem that Mr. Kord is actually in Gotham City for a visit. How fortuitous! As if, by some miracle, Rip Hunter deposited us exactly where we were meant to be.::
“…agh.. kak…roffle.. glomp…”
::Booster would like me to communicate to you that, that was a lucky shot. I implore you not to harm Booster further until we’ve completed our mission. All of Space and Time depends upon it.::
“…urgle..mpph?”
::No, sir. That is not how they flirt in this time period. Nor was that a ‘love tap.’::
Dinah: “Well, doesn’t that sound fancy…”
So there’s probably no actual alarms and/or indicators blaring anywhere else, Batcave, NOWHERE lair, or otherwise to bring attention down on my apartment. For a moment of brief, mental amusement I wonder whether or not one Superman could hear me wolf-whistling from here. Booster would probably think it was at him, and be thoroughly startled when a mostly-invited guest turned up as well. My little game of imagination is truly brought to a halt by Skeets’ ‘apology’ for the lack of warning, because I let out a laugh that may seem a little cruelly timed but then.. I suppose no one that knows me would be surprised either. It takes a moment of rubbing the bridge of my nose between two fingers to really bring my amusement to a halt.
I wasn’t trying to hit him that hard, after all. If I were, I would have just used my hand.
“Miracle. Calculated time travel science. Who knows, am I right? And Booster should know that there was nothing lucky about it. For someone who wants to supposedly save the world, he’s not very good at paying attention. Monologue-ing is supposed to be a bad guy thing. And for the record, it had a lot more to do with calculated weight and spin of the bottle than luck.”
I don’t do luck. I do skill, intuition, and instinct. Squinting up one eye, I waggle a hand back and forth in front of Skeets.
“Eh. In the vaguest sense he might be right on that one. I mean. He can still breathe. So. Off to see the Scientist, then?”
Booster: ::Does that mean you’ll be accompanying us?::
There’s a distinct shake of the head, emphatically ‘No’ from the Golden Wonder, but that doesn’t seem to derail Skeets for once. If anything he seems delighted at the momentary break he’s getting from the constant interruptions of his own.
::I calculate a twenty seven percent increase in our changes, with you by our side Miss Lance. It is truly a boon for us that we happened upon your moody brooding here in the Lap of Luxury. At a time when your current partner in crime fighting is unavailable and your former partner is… equally unavailable. Leaving us with prime ‘Team Up’ opportunity!::
Grumbling at the two of them. Mostly because Skeets is actually inviting the B-Lister to come along! Ugh. Just when it was going to be Booster’s opportunity to be the big damned Hero!
::Most fortuitous, Booster. I’ve re-evaluated our chances of success. We now have a twenty nine percent chance of success!::
Ugh.
One last cough, all the while fixing Dinah with a wary look that isn’t half about what she’s wearing as it was before. Now though? The blue hue engulfing Booster is all too telling of that force field Skeets spoke about. “We had best get moving. There’s no telling when he’ll make the decision and once he does it’s.. well… the end of everything.”
Oh and he’s also very shiny now. Bright even. The glow is just about everything wrong with a costume to be worn in Gotham City. And it’s currently heading for the open window of Dinah’s apartment.
::Twenty eight percent.::
by Michele | Aug 5, 2018 | Chronicles
Batman: “Hold on. Let me see if I understand you correctly. Your friend, Mr. Freeman, went off to get himself involved in for what amounts to a purely geo-political war in Kahndaq. He sent word to you that he could use the help. He sent the same call out to several others. Including the Flash. A man who happens to be roughly six times faster than the actual jet he wishes you to pick him up in.”
It might ordinarily be hard to make out the features of someone beneath the Bat Cowl, but it’s fairly easy to read them right now. This is Batman’s incredulous face. I have long accepted that the motley crew Tim was putting together are eclectic, but this borders on outright insanity and I’m not giving her the benefit of being attracted to her enough to buy in to it. She may be a Goddess, demi as it were, but I’m not nearly as impressed to let go of my good senses to buy in to that.
In fact there’s a very demonstrative cross of the arms over my chest that isn’t hidden by the cape to say it for me. “If you’re actually going, tell Wally to power walk, he’ll still be there faster than the invisible jet.”
“As to your offer to me, I’m afraid there’s a lot in play that we must consider before I can give you an answer. Despite all of our most fond wishes, there are times when it isn’t as simple as ‘Do the Right Thing.’ In this particular case, I’m looking at the facts. Just the facts. None of it makes sense.”
That’s the good news at least, I’m here. Now. Meeting with the Wonder Woman before she leaves. Even as we’ve been talking, I’ve taking to working at the console of one gauntlet. Behind me the Invisible Jet’s large wall-mounted television is starting to display the news feeds from Brother Eye.
“Bialya’s attack was unannounced. Furthermore since it was orchestrated multiple intelligence agencies have confirmed that there was not so much as a whisper about it before hand. That’s telling. Because in any military unit there is a chain of command and orders to be processed. For a military that was nothing more than a loose knit group of mercenaries not long ago? That’s a level of secret keeping among the rank and file that is basically super-human in itself. So the reality is more likely that someone. Someone highly placed. Planned this and executed it. Either the moment he got permission or… is someone in position to give such an order without needing permission.”
“That’s just the beginning. We know that Bialya bought arms from the Russian Black Market, but they’ve essentially fielded a Army -and- Navy. The regime in Bialya doesn’t have the money to afford this size of an army. Much less a Navy at all, given that there’s no ship yard on satellite imagery. Where did the bulk of their equipment come from then? How was that also kept secret.”
“Then there’s the one thing every crime has, that this attack lacks. Motive. There is always a motive. So most likely in this situation we simply don’t know what it is. Again, given the sheer proportions of this undertaking, how is it that we haven’t so much as heard a word from anyone. About why this happened. None of the Ambassadors are talking. The leader of Bialya isn’t speaking. There’s just an attack. Then a retreat. Immense casualties on the Kahndaq side and now mounting casualties on the Bialya side thanks to this Adam individual. But we still don’t know why this is happening.”
“Or. Rather the world doesn’t know. I find that to be extremely informative. Because it means that the reason for their entire siege wasn’t accomplished yet. So they’re keeping it a secret, in order to stop Adam from knowing what to defend. Also it stops the rest of the world from stopping them from getting it.” Before Cassie has spoken I’m already shaking my head. “No. It isn’t some random act of violence of a despot wanting to take more territory. There are other countries with far more to -take- that neighbor Bialya. Countries that lack a resource like Black Adam to rush to their aide.”
“This was calculated risk. Superior planning. With a pathological bent towards secrecy. Nothing about that suggests Random anything. Bialya wants something.” Turning my head to look at her over one shoulder. “Which brings me to the real question. What if they want you. All of you. There in Kahndaq.”
Wonder Woman: There’s not a single member of the ‘Bat Family’ that doesn’t know what my real face looks like, at least not those that I’ve met. They probably knew ahead of time, but if not they certainly do after my recent surge in powers had led me into placing an SOS call to Tim. We’re not even going to get into whatever it is that’s going on between my Mother and Alfred Pennyworth because I just really can’t right now. Even if Conner was joking about the whole thing in the first place, there’s just enough to make me want to wonder, and my mind needs to stay bent towards other things right now. I’m still wearing the Wonder Woman face though, and not just because I already had it on after my sadly unproductive seeming meeting with Terra. Or. Not Terra.
I can hope that something I said sunk in though. Or that at least she’ll take the offer of help if it’s needed. But I’m expecting Wally to turn up, and he also doesn’t know who Cassie Sandsmark is. So here we are. My call to the Flash, which had been after trying to return Freddy’s call hadn’t worked out, was then followed by ringing up the Batman. Doesn’t that sound moderately fancy? I’d briefly considered calling Tim directly, also not calling at all, but we’d worked together before and that united ‘front’ is something that seems worth continuing to show the world, if nothing else. Especially for something I’m hoping will be mostly humanitarian in effort.
There’s a shrug of my shoulders, no longer covered in the hoodie that I’d worn to the bar, and my expression and tone of voice is a whole lot more amused than his is.
“I told him that he could meet me here if he wanted a ride. Running that far uses up a lot of energy, apparently, and he’s kind of a diva when he’s hungry. But, yes. You seem to have all the lead-up points covered. And I am going.”
If we’re being 100% honest, I hadn’t really expected this man to come along, or whomever was actually wearing the Batman cowl if it’d changed in the last week. Gotham City has more than its share of problems in the best of times, and lately hasn’t exactly qualified for one of those ‘peaceful’ periods. As was made abundantly clear when I was in Wayne Manor. They have other things to do, but I’d wanted to extend the offer regardless. This isn’t a ‘thanks for the jet, the gear, and the hookups, Tim, now make way for the superkids to try and do their thing’ situation. It shouldn’t ever be, if for no other reason than Gotham’s resident heroes make it pretty clear that heroism doesn’t require powers. I’ve also more than enough examples of the other side of that coin, too. Powers often don’t make for virtuous motivations either.
Blue eyes move from the mostly hidden, but still clearly judgmental face in front of me to look at the monitors. I’d caught brief footage when I’d stopped home before the bar, but I hadn’t really intended to cross the Atlantic at first. Not until I’d gotten the call from Freddy. I know Conner’s already over there, and likely the rest of his team and that’s not something I want to push if I can help it. On the same note, however, I think there’s very, very little that can be told to me in the way of ‘facts’ that’s going to keep me from taking my jet over there, or just flying myself. Because no amount of extenuating circumstances can actually change the fact that there are people in Khandaq that need help. Their protector can’t be everywhere at once.
“And without having worry about any kind of repercussions for giving that order. Black Adam has been enough by himself to keep most threats away. It wasn’t worth the push back. So either they’ve found something to make it worth it, or they’ve been pushed by someone scarier than Khandaq’s leader. Or both. And someone’s paying on the back end to make them the pawns.”
It’s my turn to fold my arms now, though I don’t have a black looming cape to hide the action as I walk closer to the displays and look up at them. Even with the added couple inches of height I gained last week, I’m still not tall. He has found something, though, that at least has made me think.
“We were all together on American soil not that long ago. I’d think that a person, or group, with the resources to magic up two military branches for Bialya basically overnight could have moved on us then, while we were fighting someone else if we are really the goal. You’re thinking NOWHERE. Aren’t you?”
Where stepping a foot wrong would be an international incident, not just a localized one, and the timing as we’re starting to gain public support for our presence…
Batman: “I’m thinking Luthor,” comes the immediate response.
She’s known Tim long enough to know that we have a tendency to play things close to the vest. We don’t give out information that we don’t deem necessary to the vital parameters of whatever mission we’re on at a given moment. Bruce was the King of that, Tim isn’t that far behind, but I’ve never been one to keep people in the dark about every little detail. Not people I’m supposed to be able to trust. I understand why Bruce did it, I think I know why Tim does it even now. Not only was it a measure of control, but it also let them see the honest reactions of the people around them. Bruce always wanted to see if I would reach the same conclusion, unassisted by his own. Check and Balance. Cassie takes the points I’m making and follows them to the source, but she stops a step away from what I’m getting at.
I take a second, just a second, to let the information sink in before I put my hands upon the screens and begin to move them. “You’ve heard of the ‘Justice Society.’ A group of so-called ‘Mystery Men,’ who came together when the world needed them most to help win the second World War. After that time the President commissioned what would eventually become Nowhere. What most people don’t know is the identities of those ‘Mystery Men.’ The Batman knew.”
“This is that Society,” upon the screen I’ve brought forth a grainy black and white picture of the Justice Society and more specifically, I’ve zero’d in on one in particular. “I’m sure even you recognize a couple of them at this point. The Society existed in secret for a long time, empowered by a mandate of President Eisenhower. Then the tide began to turn against them, until they were given a choice. Enlist in the Project or retire. This is all history that Tim has shared, I’m sure. If not, you knew it from other sources. Such as your boyfriend.”
“What you don’t know, because neither of them knew, is that the Society saw the changes coming. They took steps to insure that their ‘Society’ of Heroes would persist. That is why some of them joined, hoping to guide the future of Cadmus and Nowhere towards more noble goals than they feared would happen without their involvement. Others took deals for retirement that guaranteed the survival of their progeny.”
“Others.” Another motion of my hand brings the image down to the very edge of the Society’s phone, where you can barely make out the man’s bare chest until my computer’s augment the image to reveal a Hawk crest. “Were lost. Perhaps killed. Maybe taken. Regardless of how, they all disappeared.”
“Most of them stayed that way.” Another shift of my hands and the screens begin to show a series of articles. Written articles, not big enough news to have made it to television. “Until recently. A series of thefts across the globe. Each one more or less unrelated. A museum in England. A private art collector in Bolivia. The Chateau Rennard in Spain. Seemingly random items. A harness. A mace. A helmet. Pieces of armor. International police have not connected the dots, because each piece that has been stolen was from a completely unrelated point in history. So their only commonality is that they were A) stolen and B) historical relics.”
Again the image is shifted, from the articles back to the obscure man at the back of the Society’s picture. A man who’s wearing a harness, sporting a helmet and holding a spiced mace. “Hawkman. According to the files we have from the original Society, his super power is being an asshole and re-incarnation. He is otherwise armed with a series of weapons crafted from a substance that according to Wesley Dodds is called Nth Metal.”
“All of which brings you to the question of what significance this has upon Kahndaq? Perhaps none. Perhaps everything. Given that these thefts are recent and that one of the known incarnations of this ‘Hawkman’ were from Ancient Kahndaq. It’s my suspicion that these thefts are more significant than we know. Someone is reacquiring Hawkman’s arsenal. I suspect that his doing so has motivated what is going on in Kahndaq. If I’m right, then their motivation for attack may be another piece of Hawkman’s armor. But that only creates additional questions.”
“Which is why I’m going. Whomever is stealing these artifacts is a thief. You need a detective to find him. I will track this thief down. You will take Wallace and help the civilians. While also assisting Freeman find his way through this whole affair. You’ll need to do it with one eye towards the fact that we know Luthor helped Bialya somehow. So we know there’s something in all of this for him. I suspect it’s the Nth Metal. So our goals run at cross purposes, Wonder Woman.”
Wonder Woman: There’s this brief, brief moment where the expression that crosses ‘my’ face could almost be considered rolling my eyes, while lips purse slightly to the one side. Most people probably don’t roll their eyes at Batman, and I generally don’t roll my eyes at anyone except my boyfriend, but I don’t seem to be able to stop myself right now. It’s only because Luthor was, more or less, exactly what I meant. In my mind they’re one and the same, and you really don’t have one without the other. He might not be publicly acting with them, because they’re secret for one thing, but without him they don’t have the power they currently possess.
“Yes. Luthor.”
He certainly has the money. He definitely has the means. NOWHERE has a veritable array of metahumans at their disposal the likes of say. Kelsey who could communicate messages without there ever being any sort of paper trail, and she could look like anyone. I don’t know the range or breadth of either of her skill sets there, just what Conner’s told of me and that’s not factoring in Rachel and what she does, or any other number of people on their ‘payroll.’ Though. Conner’s made it pretty clear to me that they, some of them like Kelsey… M’gann…, and even he believes that they’re doing something good to an extent. How would it be justified to them, to start an unprovoked war between two countries, in order to get them to participate?
So maybe he’s got a means outside of ‘just’ NOWHERE’s scope, too.
“I have. My Mother was always really interested in them. At the time I just assumed it was the same level of interest she had in telling me stories about the old myths and pantheons but…”
Hindsight’s 20/20 right? With what I’ve been told at this point, and what dots I’ve connected with her clearly knowing Alfred before I had, I assume the interest and knowledge was much more personal than Hercules and his Labors. Or maybe it’s exactly the same thing. Arms still folded in place, I am listening to what he’s telling me, and showing me, despite some of it being things I was already aware of. Being a know-it-all never really gets you the best results. Even if you are, but I learned very, very quickly that Tim and Company know a whole lot about things that you wouldn’t think they have any business to know in the first place.
“What if the thief is this Hawkman? You said his powers… erm. Power is reincarnating..” I’m not going to call being an ass a superpower, otherwise my darling other half gets another to add to his already too impressive roster. “.. so maybe he has, and he’s the one rounding them back up again. Is it really theft if you’re reacquiring things that were yours in the… sorry. That’s more stray curious thought than actual moral question that doesn’t really matter.”
He’s correct about it making more questions though. That delve into multiple lives (which, seems weird even if you’re a demi-goddess), questions of whether heroic motivations persist or if the person may have changed. If there’d be motive to trigger this war, when they’ve clearly had no problem acquiring the other pieces in a much more sly matter… my twirling thoughts and considerations are interrupted by something he’s said fully clicking in my head and my eyes regain focus as I blink in surprise.
“You are? Well. Great. Welcome aboard, Batman. If you pull that vanishing ‘trick’ again with him on board he’s probably going to disassemble my jet though. Fair warning.”
There’s finger quotes made, as I unfold my arms finally, because I know fully well that Batman was never actually on this jet the last time. I’d seen Red Robin pull the stunt before so it was an easy conclusion. I just hadn’t mentioned it to the rather frantic Flash at the time. My expression sobers again rather quickly though, because I haven’t ignored his warning. It’s just emphasizing thoughts I’d already been having as far as the NOWHERE team already being in Khandaq.
“I’ll be careful. And make sure that he is, too.”
Batman: “That’s my hope, in fact. That the thief actually is the reincarnated version of the man in that picture. If he’s the one that has been collecting his arsenal, then there’s a chance he remembers. Which leads me to hope that there’s a chance I can recruit him to your side in the coming conflict. You need all the help you can get.”
There’s a very purposeful choice of my wording here. Not my side. Not our side. Her side. She’s the one that needs help. Despite believing, as Tim did, that this is very much an effort of a team? I’m not convinced that my place is among them. My family has a lot on their plates. Even more blood on their hands. Being part of this little thing they’re doing may be good for the immediate purpose of removing Nowhere’s influence, but in the long term?
Once more though my expression isn’t all that hard to read, despite the mask. Clearly I can buy that magic exists, but there’s just a look about me that says the entire ‘Reincarnation’ thing is malarkey. “Assuming it is, in fact, the original Hawkman reincarnated and reclaiming his lost arsenal or not? If his arsenal originated in Kahndaq, then it is likely that there is more of this Nth metal there. It is our most likely motive for the entire ordeal. In the absence of ‘alternative facts’ we must base a theory upon the ones we have in evidence.”
“However, in the unlikely instance that this actually is the original Hawkman? Then whether he is stealing or re-appropriating, he’s still in possession of what may have just become the most valuable resource in the world. If Bialya went to War with Black Adam for it, then what do you think the people behind all of this will do to procure the artifacts that have been stolen. Assuming they’re not the ones stealing them in the first place. Either way, I’ll need to find them in order to get us answers. Leave that part to me.”
“Mm. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, Wonder Woman. I’ll be taking my own ride.” Thumbing over my shoulder toward exit of her plane. Almost on cue the Razor Wing jet descends from the Heavens to display itself. “There are two other things you need to know. First, Timothy was injured. Out of costume. He’s not.. like you. He needs surgery, but he won’t stop because he wants to be like you. So unless you’ve got a magical cure for a torn rotator cuff, the next time you see him, could you bat those baby blues and get him to go the doctor?”
“And second. Your Mother. The big dig she went on that you were upset about not getting to go on with her? Its in Kahndaq. Like I said. Someone is orchestrating this. Bringing everyone together.”
Wonder Woman: “I usually seem to.”
Delivered with all the irony due for a statement like that. I’m fast, strong, incredibly durable. A literal demigod, and yet I don’t seem to be able to pull anything on my own. That’s how it feels anyway. As droll as I might sound with my remark, however, I don’t actually think that it’s a bad thing. I was all in for Tim’s plan of recruiting more people, because I think going at any of this alone has more drawbacks than benefits. A prime example being the last iteration of public heroes, who had only really come together when the situation on the Earth absolutely required it. I can’t speak for how well they worked together, but maybe if they’d been a real team, someone could have seen Coast City coming and acted to prevent it. There’s strength in friends, but there’s also accountability and different points of view and approaches.
On a smaller scale, I can look at the way life has gone for me with Superman. He pushed me into being a hero, and I suppose in a manner of speaking I had as well. Despite my thoughts, I haven’t missed the emphasis in Batman’s word selections. It’s why I hadn’t thought he’d be coming. I wasn’t going to not offer, but I just expected he’d stay separate. Gotham manages to be it’s own little corner of the world, despite its lack of sovereignty. Official sovereignty, anyway.
“Even if there isn’t, it’s a logical sounding conclusion for them to have drawn as well. I still just don’t understand why this was the best method unless, like you clearly think, it’s shaping up to be a two birds, one stone situation. Or. Three, if they think they might manage to draw Hawkman in as well. With what Nth metal he has, if he even has any at all or if it’s him but… the off chance might be reason enough.”
The first real look of displeasure on my face comes with the two additional things, on top of all the others, that he wants me to know. No longer the expression of commitment to this plan that I think is right, even if it’s maybe a trap, which is enough to make me resolute on it, but an almost sour one of concern as I rub fingertips against the side of my nose. It’s a much more ‘Cassie’ gesture than ‘Wonder Woman’s.’
“I knew he was hurt. I didn’t know it was that bad, and if I do that’s a power I haven’t figured out how to tap into just yet. I’m not really sure why you think he’d li…”
I’m not going to discount the potential for more powers, because frankly I have as many as I can handle right now, and I’m still learning how to capably use what I’ve got. But with the way things have gone for me lately, who knows. Two weeks ago I was half as strong, half as fast, and two inches shorter. Zeus made it very clear that I’m essentially still an infant. Why would Tim listen to me that would involve me flirting with him? Dumb question, Cassie. It’s also not an angle I’m actually wiling to exploit because despite knowing it’s there? I think it’s cruel. And Tim’s my best friend. I’m more upset about not realizing how hurt he apparently was, despite being actually face to face with him, than a lot of other things going on right now.
Like him apparently airing my dirty laundry of the fight with my Mom about her not letting me go on the dig. Which. I’m now going to after all.
“I’ll try. And maybe my Mom had some sort of inkling ahead of time I just… had started to assume it was related to a separate problem. Or maybe it’s not separate at all and then… as you said. All the help I can get.”
Moving away from the panels, I go to find a seat and set up to wait for Wally to turn up. Clearing room for Batman to get to his own jet because. Of course he has one. For someone who runs as fast as Flash does, he seems to turn up a bit… late a lot of the time.
“I’d say I’ll see you in Khandaq, but I imagine I probably won’t. So I’ll leave it at stay safe.”
I don’t think any of them are the ‘good luck’ sort of guys, so I don’t say it.
by Michele | Jul 7, 2018 | Chronicles
Red Robin: “Stanford? And you’re saying that it was his idea,” the way in which a gloved hand strokes squared jaw tells a story. “Hrm. So many questions, but this wasn’t a social call this time.”
At this point in Cassandra’s life she should be getting used to a great deal many things. However I’m fairly sure that I just managed to scare the bejesus out of her. If it wasn’t when her phone came alive on the hotel dresser and grew wings with which to flitter across the room to where it could cast a hologram of the Red Robin next to Cassie’s bed? Then it was probably rousing to find Red Robin next to her bed.
“He’s not here,” the reassurance is as much about how we know he would react to my presence, as it about cutting her off in the immediate search for her boyfriend in the bed next to her. “His handlers summoned him earlier this morning to be Honor Guard for what’s going on in Khandaq.”
“Fortuitous, actually, because you won’t need to worry about misleading him this time. I’ve sent a file on your next assignment to your phone. It’ll also be a good chance for you to make an impression at the Tower, since she’s there. Unlike Freeman, this isn’t a cake walk. She doesn’t know it, but your next assignment is in trouble. You might not have to deal with Conner, but if she’s within the Tower’s incomplete sensors then you know Nowhere is aware of her too. If she’s not already been made, she will be any time now.”
“No training wheels this time, I’m still recovering and Batman says he doesn’t think you need a babysitter. If you need Backup, your phone has the Flash’s emergency card number. But for now… he is your only backup.”
It’s then that Cassie will realize that this isn’t a call. It’s a voice mail. The digital hologram variety. Because it repeats. Over and over. Until she actually touches the phone to turn off the message. Properly marked as ‘Urgent’ in her inbox. It will take slightly more time getting Razerbeak to pull in it’s wings and resume being her cellphone.
Cassie: Wonder Woman’s not a morning person.
Actually, a better assessment would be that while I’m not really a morning person, I can manage the rise and shine part just fine. It’s being woken unceremoniously that I happen to be struggling with, in the form of my brain not being able to process what project it should get to work on first, getting tousled blonde hair out of my face so that I can fully see, or the moral question of what’s more important: making sure I’m between Tim and any eye lasers that are about to get shot at him, or getting anything that’s uncovered that I don’t want him to see covered. If my brain moved at the pace that Conner’s does, then I probably could have come to a couple clear conclusions a lot more quickly. If I was actually awake I probably could have managed in a more respectable fashion.
What it actually looks like is some semi-undignified thrashing under the sheets of the bed. I haven’t been asleep nearly long enough, which explains why my boyfriend leaving didn’t wake me up at all, and neither did the phone doing what it apparently does now. It’s only the familiar voice that had jerked me awake and sent me into a befuddled, panicked whirl of motion.
“What the Hell, Tim!”
Hearing that ‘he’s not here’ soothes me a little, so we’re back to just being a touch grumpy about being woken up, and the intrusion. I want to ask how he knows where we are but, that’s a stupid question. That and he carries right on past my objections in a very Tim Drake sort of way, because the mission. Leaving me to snug the sheet up under my armpits and fold my arms across my chest for good measure, mentally attempting to suppress the blush. There’s not really a good reason for it because it’s not like our best friend, of all people, doesn’t know exactly what we get up to. Mostly because Conner Luthor has less than zero shame, and he’s a perceptive guy anyway.
“You actually think I’m going to need backup? Giant crocodiles was fine but…”
I already have realized at this point that Tim’s not really there. Why would he be? Other than a very brief emergency trip to Gotham, and a mission to Central, it’s the only way that I’ve ‘seen’ him since he left Metropolis after his father’s death. It might be a family thing for all I know, holograms, not the death portion. Ugh. What a morbid thought. It hadn’t occurred to me, however, that it was pre-recorded, so there’s a moment of confusion when he begins to repeat himself. Though, I suppose it explains the talking over top of me. Leaving me grumbling, and poking and prodding the very fancy phone, while still keeping the bed sheets up because, well. The media likes to pretend that our cell phones are spying on us but… they have no idea.
“…I’m putting you in the drawer next time…”
Terra: Standing in front of the jukebox in the back of the bar she had wandered into only moments ago, Tara ran a recently manicured fingernail along the upper selections of songs and paused almost immediately. Tapping her finger a few times as if carefully considering her options she reaches into her pocket and finding a quarter removes it. Sliding it into the slot and then another and still another Tara begins to move to the beat as T.N.T by AC/DC begins to thump through the bar much to the chagrin of the late night patrons who when she had entered the place seemed more interested in sleep then anything else. The mood had been rather somber and that just wouldn’t suit Tara at all.
“Oi…oi…oi..oi!”
Each one was a little louder then the first as she began to sing along to the words and make her way back toward the large and well neared man manning the bar, without even asking he slid an overflowing beer toward her. Perhaps he hoped drinking it would at least put an end to the singing. Snatching up the beer and drinking most of it in a few deep gulps Tara spit out a little of the beer as the chorus kicked in again.
“T…N…T…come on Metropolis….live a little..”
Shrugging as not a soul moved to join in her antics Tara begins her dance again and moves back toward the jukebox, she had had a good night and was determined to make her mood infectious. It had been a month or more since she had stopped those muggers with her abilities and her eyes had been awaken to just how much fun she could have with them. She had been warned against just this sort of thinking, but Slade had been absent for months, years even.
Really what’s the worse a little shaking and sliding to her benefit could bring down on her?
Cassie: Whether or not Superman’s on the other side of the planet, I know how very little time that takes to change. Logically, I also know that Red Robin thinks I’ve got enoughtime, otherwise I would probably have been roused as soon as Conner was out of earshot. Getting dressed doesn’t take much time, and other than a brief glance in the mirror over the state of my mop of blonde hair I don’t need to do much else to prepare outside of reading up on what information I’ve been given. The latter of which I do while deciding that bedhead for me doesn’t look a whole lot different than post-flight, wind ruffled hair and just leaving it be.
Where I actually lose a little bit of time is in my brief trip to Coast City. He hadn’t been wrong about the appearance where the Tower is being erected, even if there’s only so much buzz I’m going to generate in the middle of the night. It’s a very short trip by air from Stanford, where Conner and I had actually been visiting for the weekend to do a little research. Not on Coast City, or the Tower or any of what Wayne Enterprises is doing out there. Very mundane scoping of housing, actually, in the normal teenage rite of passage that is preparing to apply for and hopefully attend the college of your choice. Very little doubt of getting in, full of myself as that sounds, because of my grades and test scores and zero for him because he’s a Luthor who pretends to be just good enough at basketball to be incredible but not superhuman. I guess normally we’d have a parental escort and not be shacked up in a hotel together but… my Mom’s apparently an Amazonian badass, and his Dad’s President for Life. Not factoring in my God Dad, and his Kryptonian one. There’s nothing normal about that situation at all. I spend a little bit of time zooming about as I finish reading the dossier.
She used to be here, but not anymore. For more current whereabouts I have to go back to Metropolis. Clear on the other side of the country. Thanks a lot, Tim, you couldn’t have given me this on Monday morning? But I believe him about the time press. He wouldn’t have said it otherwise. It takes me a shade over fifteen minutes to get from California to the East Coast, rocketing through the dark sky, and finding myself wishing I had more time to enjoy the night flight than what I’ve got. Mostly because this? Is the best part about my new life.
A little more time wasted in a brief trip to my house in order to grab clothes. Not to change more to… cover up. Because I’m not trying to out this girl, but I also don’t want to out myself. Hopefully the spangly red of my suit passes for leggings under the skirt I pull on, and the hoodie that gets settled over my upper half, and hair as I’m pushing my way into the bar.
Believe it or not, this is a first for me. A bar. Unlike the girl I’m here to see? I actually look old enough to be in here, but that’s only because the Wonder Woman suit comes custom made with facial alteration hologram technology. Adding at least eight years to my face, and subtly altering the structure so as to make me unrecognizable. I bypass the bar proper, instead letting blue eyes wander over the patrons. There’s only one option here to fit the description.
“Terra?”
Terra: Tara had made her way back to leaning on the jukebox at this point and her concentration had fully been given to it. Her hands sat with a loose grip atop the box as she slowly moved her hips to what by now had changed to Judas Priest. Her eyes closed Tara moved her head now to the song as one of her favorites choruses kicked in prompting more singing.
“Breaking the law….breaking the law…YES.
The volume of the song combined with her own off key additions to the harmonies nearly muffled the sound of her name, or at least one of her names being said by Cassie. Nearly, but not entirely and having heard it her grip on the jukebox tightened considerably.
Her head turned slowly to face Cassie, confusion quickly overtaking her features, and maybe just a little fear. Had that girl Sublime told someone about her?
“My name is Mackenzie…you must have me confused with someone else.”
With that says her eyes move back to looking through the songs on the jukebox.
Cassie: I may not be the ace detective of our little… conglomerate… but I’m still observant enough, especially when I’m already wary about how this may, or may not go. Beyond that, my vision’s sharp enough to notice the flexing, if not whitening, of her knuckles on the top of the juke box. I don’t close between us, so much as sidestep closer to the wall, if not closer to Terra herself. Letting the overly loud English rock band compete with my words to reach anyone else’s ears past the two of us, as well as trying to not make her feel cornered. This is so very different than my last solo attempt. Because it’s more personal, a one on one instead of a battle-forged connection. Then there’s also the danger of exactly what I want to try to prevent and… why this needs to be done while Conner’s busy with whatever is going on in Khandaq.
“Okay. Mackenzie, then, if that’s what you prefer.”
It doesn’t matter to me what I call her, it’s more about her comfort. Besides. I’m currently wearing a disguise, over top of a costume, and wearing a face that’s not actually mine. Who am I to judge on this particular front? Pushing my hands casually into the pockets of my sweatshirt is a non-threatening posture as I lean my shoulder into the wall, but it also exposes more of the glittering gold of my gauntlets.
“But I don’t have you confused with someone else.”
So, Cassie. What would you have wanted someone to say to you, after that first time you ripped the gym door off the hinges like they were paper? Or when you tripped and powdered the concrete into fine dust and you were confused, and scared, and felt so very, very alone? I still had the anchor of my Mom though, and while I can’t know for sure, her moving around the country and being in a bar in the middle of the night tells me this girls’ probably way more alone than I ever thought I might have been.
“It feels good, doesn’t it? Using something that’s scary about yourself to stop something real and scary out in the world?”
Terra: Dropping her head down her eyes shutting tight for a moment before she pushes off the jukebox and turns to fully face Cassie. Her eyes move quickly over the girl in front of her as she takes a step closer looking down to the small hint of gold on Cassie’s arm.
A quizzical expression moves across her face as she sees the strange object. Leaning in for a closer look she turns her face a bit closer to Cassie’s and begins speaking in a low tone.
“Well aren’t you a regular After school special…I don’t know who you think I am…
Stopping a moment as she gestures to the door.
“But you have the wrong person…I’m just a normal girl next door type. Mundane in every way. Now you skip away to a Pep rally or something I’m busy.”
Cassie: There’s a brief moment, very brief, where I want very badly to look down and double check which skirt I actually put on when I left my house. I don’t exactly have a lot of them, I’ve always been much more of a tee-shirt and jeans kind of girl but I still own a couple. A solid chunk of them, however, are cheerleading skirts, or the plaid of Saint Mary’s blue and grey prep school uniforms. No. I wasn’t so tired after my flight as to have made either that tactical error, or fashion fashion faux pas. I’m a little taken aback by her defensiveness but I recognize pretty quickly that I shouldn’t be. I more or less tried a similar denial when I was first approached by my abilities.
I’m being a lot nicer than Conner was to me, though. Or at least, I was trying.
Pursing my lips, I change tacks, pushing my hoodie back off my forehead enough to expose the golden tiara that’s the newest addition to my Wonder Woman attire, thanks to my Mother.
“We both know that’s not true. I’m not going to push you. But if I know? Then so do people who are not going to try to be your friend and will skip straight to detain and neutralize. Especially here in Metropolis. You were safer in Coast City.”
Terra: If Terra were to be perfectly honest her first impulse when Coast City is mentioned is to drop the entire bar into the sewers underneath them all. This decidedly stupid course of action is tempered by the fact doing so would likely kill everyone else in the place and while she was a lot of things Terra was no murderer. So rather then make herself a headline she instead burst into laughter her arms crossing her chest as she nearly hits the floor from the giggles now coming over her.
“OMG…what is that?!
Taking a deep breath and visibly forcing her bellyaches away she composes herself and holds up her hands in apology. The immense grin on her face however seems unable or unwilling to leave.
“Okay..okay…what the hell let’s talk Princess…my god a tiara…”
Cassie: The burst of laughter takes me a little by surprise, easy enough to tell by the widening of blue eyes, though that expression doesn’t turn to annoyance so much as an arched eyebrow of amusement at what Terra’s found so darn funny that it has interrupted her denials and attempts at getting me to leave her alone. Does it really look that ridiculous or is she just…stressed? Defense mechanism? If that’s going to set her off into hysterical giggles than it’s doubly good that I chose to put the skirt and hoodie on over the rest of my outfit. Which I thought was pretty ridiculous when it was first presented to me, too.
“It’s an heirloom. Probably an antique. I didn’t ask, didn’t want to offend the person that gave it to me by implying…”
That my Mother is an antique herself. Which she may very well be, no matter how she happens to look. One of the many facets of who I am, that I know now, that I haven’t fully wrapped my brain around yet. Going from your biggest concern being prep school bullies, to hiding superpowers, and then straight on to Gods are actually real and your father is one was a lot to take in. And clearly, the info dump hadn’t been about to just stop there.
But. Clearly it hadn’t been the identifying mark I had hoped that it might have been. I suppose it hasn’t exactly been part of my ‘uniform’ for a long time. Or maybe I was reaching with the assumption that this girl would even care, or pay attention to, who Wonder Woman is. Moving away from the wall, and the jukebox, I sweep a hand towards one of the back booths.
“Unless you’d rather go outside…?”
Terra: Tara took a moment to compose herself taking care not to glance back up to the tiara. Cassie wouldn’t know this but seeing it had actually put Tara at ease as she knew the men who likely still pursued her would never have sent someone like this. No those men favorited all black everything and did not announce their presence in such a well mannered way. So it would be out of curiosity that Tara would entertain the woman standing before her.
“Riiiiight….the only heirloom I was given was a battered postcard from a place I barely remember.”
Giving Cassie a shrug of her shoulders that said she really didn’t have any fucks to give she turns and begins walking toward one of the unoccupied booths closest to the back and right up against the wall. The man who had taken her from Markovia had insisted often and loudly that she always maintain proper site lines in case she had to run. While it could not be said she listened to everything he said this she had retained.
Sliding in on the side closest to the wall she holds up a hand with two fingers up for the bartender to see, once he nods she aims them at the table.
“I appreciate the beer by the way…you do have money in that thing right?”
Tara says with a devilish smile across her lips as Cassie moves to sit across from her.
Cassie: I feel a little silly, I suppose rightfully so given my attire, but I’d been left with two not so great options. Show up to speak to this girl in my normal clothes, using my real face, and I’m not anymore old enough to be in this bar than she is. Or turn up in full Wonder Woman regalia, drawing attention to myself and therefor her. So I’d gone with this hybrid of the two. I’ve been spending more and more time in the red, clingy spangles of Wonder Woman but usually it’s when I’m fighting, or doing something that doesn’t give me time to second guess my attire. This is a little… different. I let her have the seat she wants, because which one I sit in doesn’t matter to me. Not only because I haven’t had it drilled into my head tactically as the lesser of the two options to have my back to the room.
But because I don’t really think anything or anyone in this room is really going to be a threat to me that I can’t deal with. Maybe that’s cocky of me. Maybe Conner’s rubbing off on me… sliding into the side of the booth that’s left, I pull my hood back up over my hair, and the tiara as I look at Terra with interest.
“Oh? Where’s that?”
I used to love collecting postcards, from all the places I went with my mother on her digs. But that’s Cassie Sandsmark’s childhood past time. Not Wonder Woman’s. The first real look of concern that crosses my face is when she signals for drinks, and my lips purse. She’s not old enough to be drinking I don’t think. I’m definitely not old enough to be buying, even if I might look like I am at the moment. And this outfit doesn’t exactly have pockets, except for the sweatshirt that I’ve brought nothing in except my phone. Well. Hopefully Tim made the thing with all the usual capabilities of a phone.
“As long as they take Apple Pay. Is this a normal… thing for you here? Because he doesn’t seem to mind bringing them for you. But none for me, thank you.”
Why am I thanking her? She wants me to pay for both of them. And I probably should just refuse but… I don’t know. I want to do this ‘job’ that I’m still not sure I’m fully equipped for, or capable of. So. I just go on winging it, like so much else.
Folding my arms on the edge of the table, I turn my attention away from Bartender With No Problem Serving Minors, and back to Terra.
“Do you have somewhere safe you can go? I don’t want to assume, after the way you’ve moved around the country but..”
Terra: The expression on Terra’s face only widens at Cassie’s reaction to her ordering drinks. She holds up a hand while the other reaches into the purse she had previously had dangling by her side but now sat on the table. Sliding out a card rectangular object that as she slides it across the table reveals itself to be a drivers license.
“Why would he mind? I’m twenty one as of…”
Taking a moment to glance back down at the card on the table she then continues.
“A month ago. Apple Pay.”
Tilting her head to look to the bartender who only shakes his head at the unspoken question about if they accept that particular form of currency. This causes Terra’s amused veneer to fade for a fraction of a section while she fumbles around in her purse for the cash to pay. Finding it she quickly hands it over and takes both beers.
“It was…nowhere important I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Sliding one of the beers closer Terra let’s her eyes fall down a moment as if something sad had just hit her memory and she could not easily shake it. With the beer close enough to sip she does so once then again.
“I have lots of places to go, if any of them are safe is anyone’s guess. No ones found me yet.”
Cassie: Tilting my head to the side, my eyes drop to the driver’s license that she’s slid out onto the table thinking that perhaps I had misjudged exactly how old she appears to be, but after a partial squint at the identification in question, mixed with her having to look at the thing to know when her own birthday is? It’s surely fake. Which takes me back to the bartender probably doesn’t really care. As for me, I’m left shrugging my shoulders in the apology that I won’t actually say on the matter.
“Uh huh. I didn’t expect to find you here. Or to be making any… purchases. But I can…”
Give you money like a charity case? Already she doesn’t exactly read like someone who would go in for that, and I don’t want to push her away now that we’re sitting here and talking, so I quickly course correct that thought.
“…go get money to repay you.”
I don’t miss her reaction, especially with the backtracking on the subject and that makes me not want to press the matter. At least not right now. I don’t really want to make her uncomfortable, or to shut me out any more. So I let the conversation be steered along with the original purpose of my visit.
“I did. And someone I work with found you before I did. There’s another group out there. NOWHERE. That could have, too, already. I’m trying to help people like you. And me. To have options that aren’t just government detention and conscription.”
Terra: Terra reaches out for the I.D with the the one hand not yet clutching a beer. Catching it just at the edge of the table between two of her fingers she brings it up closer to her face and quickly looks it over. Barely restraining the urge to roll her eyes as more then one typo reveals itself in the inspection. Still it had done the job up to this point, so it would be placed back into her purse.
“Well you got me there I guess…”
Bringing the beer up for another series of sips as she listens to Cassie try to convince her of just how much trouble she was in. The only problem being that Terra had been in trouble since the day she had left Markovia. As if she had been given a choice in the matter. Terra hated being told what she had to do because for as long as she could remember someone had been telling her what to do.
It had started with her mother a scientist, and then it was Slade the hired killer and now it was some girl wearing a tiara.
“You want to help me? Well aren’t you just a regular saint….what’s in it for you and your friend huh? I don’t know you or Nowhere and I don’t much trust you.”
Cassie: The corner of my mouth tugs upwards as I fight a smile at her admission. I have no way of knowing if NOWHERE is onto her or not, but I have to just assume they are. As Tim had said, if the half-finished sensors on his ‘little’ building project in Coast City had detected this girl, then chances are being so much closer to the center of things here in Metropolis had definitely caught some notice. Especially with her heroics. Which aren’t a bad thing in my mind, just an activity that draws attention.
“No, I’m not. And I don’t pretend to be, either. I’m someone who thinks that people like us can do a lot of good. Do do a lot of good, and could do more if we were allowed. In it for me…?”
I seem startled by the question, and I think I might actually be about to let myself be a little offended. But I remember that conversation with Tim Drake, or rather, Red Robin in my Mother’s office and his correction about my agenda, or lack thereof. Yes. I have one. Maybe my head doesn’t like to think of it in those terms, and the connotations that might come with it, but it’d be a lie to pretend there’s nothing that could be ‘in it’ for us. Blowing out a soft breath, I lean back into the booth and push my hands into my sweatshirt’s pockets.
“You don’t have a reason to. Which I understand and I’d like to be able to change that. I’m looking for more people like you, who might want to do that good in the world, to maybe join my friends and I. But if you don’t want to choose that, then at the very least? I want to keep NOWHERE from snatching you up off the street and taking away what choices you do have. I won’t force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
Terra: Turning the beer up for another sip only to find it empty Terra sits it back and on the table and then moves it to the side. Her eyes move to the second bottle I’m front of her but for the moment she does not reach for it. Despite what her body language might suggest Terra listened intently to each word Cassie had to say. Her expression would paint a picture of disinterest and outright dismissal out of habit more then anything. Terra simply couldn’t help but project the sort of vibe that kept people off balance.
“Look..it’s not like that’s unappealing.”
Throwing up her hands in a small show of frustration Terra now reaches out for the second bottle, but only slides it closer and does not open it.
“But I’ve spent most of my life hiding and for good reason…and what you want to go out and play hero?”
Cassie: Well. This is really going nothing like any of the other pitches had, is it? In my head, I’m jokingly telling myself that maybe Conner’s recruitment/pep talks might not be the totally wrong way to go, except that I meant what I said. I’m not out to force something on anyone. In my eyes, that wouldn’t make me any different, or better, than NOWHERE. Maybe this all just goes better when there’s some sort of conflict in progress, in order to really show where you stand, and who you are… or maybe she’s just not someone who’s going to be impressed. Or let herself be. I don’t exactly need a map drawn for me. She’s talking now about spending all her time hiding, she spoke earlier very, very briefly about somewhere she barely remembers but was important enough to hang onto a postcard for, and the also brief sad look she’d had before it had gotten quashed back under the indifference and attitude.
And that’s okay. No, it’s not how I might have wanted this to play out but that? Not up to me. All I get to do is try my best to make her want to trust me. And I don’t get the feeling that’s going to happen tonight.
“That used to be me, too. I thought I had to hide what I could do, who I am, from almost everyone. Maybe it works out better for you, but I didn’t want to live like that anymore.”
And maybe I also wouldn’t have chosen this life either but once I got pushed out there? I know there’s no going back for me. I couldn’t do it. And I don’t want to either. I also know that I’m lucky. That Conner affords me a level of protection that other people don’t get, and that’s a leeway I’m taking advantage of right now. Eventually it’s not going to hold up anymore, and then I need to be… we all need to be prepared. There’s a faint shrug of my shoulders, as I purse my lips for a moment but otherwise refuse to rise to the bait of ‘playing’ at being a hero.
“How did it make you feel when you stopped those men? Were you just experimenting and decided eh, not for me? Or did it make you feel something else? You don’t have to answer that. Just… think about it. Here. I’m going to give you an address, and…”
Dropping my eyes for the first time, I’m digging out the sleek red phone from my pocket. I’d placed it on silent mode before coming back to Metropolis, though I wasn’t sure that would actually do anything since Tim’s intrusive holo-messages had made it through just the same. I suppose he’s probably got some super-access since he made the thing. Or it’s just part of the whole Bat-thing of being where you’re not expected to be. My nose actually wrinkles as I cringe in my seat at the litany of missed alerts that seem to have come in, in the last fifteen minutes, and who they’re from but for the moment I disregard them to pull up the information from Red Robin’s database that I’m looking for.
“…ahem. If you want to keep hiding, or need to, that’s your call to make. Not mine. This is a place here in Metropolis that is safe if you feel like someone is trying to push you into something you don’t want. You’re free to use it. No catch. No expectations.”
I’m sliding myself out of the booth’s seat even as I talk, thumb still whirling through screens and information until I find what I need.
“I apologize. Apparently I need to go play hero…”
Okay so maybe I didn’t totally let that one go.
“… but if you want to, or need to, get a hold of me there’ll be a way to do that there.”
