nabuhelm: (Doc Fate)
[personal profile] nabuhelm

There is one thing you need to know. Someone is always watching. Before gods, there was the Monitor-Mind and this, the Helmet of Nabu, sometimes speaks in dry whispers of Novu, the Proto Monitor. when the Monitor Race died, things from outside came to occupy the vacuum they left behind. But the multiverse was not defenseless, and across time and space it set what can only be called antibodies, forces powerful enough to insulate the multiple Earths from the forces that would ravage them. 

On my Earth, they call me Doc Fate. I'm the leader of the Society of Superheroes, and my Earth's current  Champion of Nabu. My world staved off an invasion from a parallel Earth, lead by that world's Vandal Savage. We lost a lot ... came perilously close to two worlds' worth of genocide ... but ultimately we prevailed. Since then, the SOS has made it our business to observe the multiple Earths, guarding against more such existential threats. It was in the course of our observances that we discovered your world. That's when I learned of Anubis, and his efforts to dismantle your Earth's defenses. and your Earth has many ... more than most ... You have superhumans. You have a Champion of Nabu, although he has not been found, yet. You have a Champion of Shazam. You have Green Lanterns. You have Elementals, and a Superman. And you have Children of the Century. 

The last is the rarest across the multiverse, set to preserve something unknown and precious. My own Earth does not have them, although my counterpart on your world, Doc Brass, was one. In his '40s, he and others stopped an incursion from an alternate universe, much as my associates and I did here.  Moreover, the fight was against an alternate Justice League, with counterparts of Superman and Green Lantern leading the attack.  Brass was the only survivor of the fight, discovered trapped in a mountain lair by the Planetary Foundation, just before the turn of the century. 

Doc Brass was murdered by a man from a Fictional Universe, a stone-cold killer from a dimension created by human mad scientists, in order steal his research on indigenous planetary defense systems for the Injustice Society, the cat's paws of Anubis, reporting to a shadowy leader even I can't identify. Elijah Snow, the last remaining Child of the 20th century, then moved quickly to secure the children of the 21st, certain they were being targeted for murder or worse. He traveled with his companions Jakita Wagner and the Drummer to Kahndaq to locate one, Ghost of the Desert, but he also found Black Adam, the current Champion of Shazam and your Earth's original Flash, Jay Garrick.  These heroes were whisked away to another universe, where the Goddess Bastet warned them of Anubis' threat, and charged them to defend the world by  gathering and protecting the Children of the 21st Century, finding the new Dr. Fate and reforming the Justice Society. 

And so they split up. Elijah snow and Freddy Freeman traveled to Singapore to rescue Jenny Quantum, who was targeted by a possessed Great Ten. They were joined by Superman, The Martian Manhunter and Lex Luthor, and were victorious, despite not learning the name of who was controlling the Chinese heroes, and  learning that one of their number, Thundermind, had been abducted.

Jakita Wagner and Black Adam also succeeded in securing their target in California, The Gateway Between the Living and the Dead,  but at great cost, as Black Adam fell to the Injustice Society giving Wagner a chance to escape with their charge.  Lastly, Garrick and Ghost sought aid from Zachary Zatara and  John Constantine  to seek the missing Fate, but their efforts brought them into conflict with the murderous Fictional Man. It was during their fight that interdimensional interference interrupted my observance, and I have struggled to regain the connection. It is unclear if the SOS will be able to aid this Earth at all if necessary. It's defense may be left to its own champions. 

The last remaining Century Children appear to have been located in Mexico and Africa, and the heroes must race to them to protect them from the injustice Society. Likewise, the new Fate must be located. And then Bastet's final instruction echoes through my head: Reform the Justice Society ... But who comprise that team? Who will train the next generation of heroes?

An Age of Heroes is upon your Earth, and that is glorious ... but those only come when the dangers are greatest. And right now, the darkness is beginning to fall ....
  


 


jakita_wagner: (Default)
[personal profile] jakita_wagner
After the crashes, glass breaking, grunts and groans and posturing, the chatter of the coffee grinder seems to echo in Jakita's ears as she waits.

"One double shot 12 ounce americano and a 20 ounce half-caf white chocolate mocha with extra chocolate for... " The barista squints at the name. "Justina?" She restrains the eye roll and grabs the two drinks off the bar and heads to their seats. There's a table tucked back into the corner, and Jakita's pleased to see that Whitney's placed their chairs so that they both face the door, and away from windows.

Whitney's drink gets placed in front of her.

"The guy behind the bar had a heavy hand with that chocolate, so I'd stir that a bit."
planetaryguide: Elijah Snow (Default)
[personal profile] planetaryguide
"This is getting entirely out of hand," thinks Elijah, looking out at the massive property damage that was, thankfully, the only real casualty of the skirmish. "The Great Ten. The Martian Manhunter. Lex Fucking Luthor. Superman." He had barely gotten used to having Freeman along, but now he's got his very own Justice League.

"No," he says under his breath. "Not a Justice League ... a Justice Society."

He remembers Bastet's  warning: You must reforge the circle. Only the Justice Society can train the next generation of heroes to defeat the darkness.

With the Great Ten and whatever it was controlling them defeated, Elijah decides it's time to get back to the mission Bastet set them  on: Gathering the Children of the Century. He throws Freeman a look ... he's the only one who can back up the story, who knows what the stakes are. More importantly, he's the only one they'll listen to.

"Gentlemen," he says to Superman and the others, mustering what Old Man gravitas he has. "My name is Elijah Snow. I represent the Planetary Foundation, and it's imperative that Ms. Quantum come with us. The fate of the world's at stake."

Wow, he thinks.  Maybe superhero dialog is contagious.

 

greatest_zatara: (showtime)
[personal profile] greatest_zatara
If you asked Zachary Zatara to ever choose between style and substance, he'd tell you you were a fool for thinking there was a difference. Nothing without style has any substance, he'd be happy to inform them. That attitude was reflected in his magic as well. Never cook up a spell with three components if you can squeeze in seven, that sort of thing. Between his house and Constantine's, he'd managed to concoct a suitable recipe for deception. Old metal, older than most countries, had enough provenance to serve as the basis for a fake Helm (and really the museums that had displaced them had had generations to find the weapons they used for material, and if they hadn't found them by now, they obviously hadn't cared enough). The various distortions of time and connection to one of the creation energies made Mister Garrick's blood another useful component, although Zachary's (however sass-laden) deference to his elders made him more cautious than usual in drawing the portion he needed, and he'd bid the old man get a snack and some juice afterwards.

The rest of it really came down to cosmetics and tailoring, areas in which Zachary excelled through no other virtue than study and repetition. Abdullah made a near flawless double by the time Zachary was done with him. Constantine's regularly scheduled disregard for his own health, and other bad decisions, would account for any nicks and dents here and there. Mundane skill covered everything the naked eye could perceive, and with the actual Helm and Constantine nearby, he could (with more effort than he liked to admit, truth be told) redirect any scrying or similar magical detections onto the decoy.

"So..." Zach circled the stand-in, "--where are we setting this hook?"
fightbyyourside: (Ready aim fire)
[personal profile] fightbyyourside
Mia had been out of the whole superhero gig for too long. After certain events had transpired, she'd took a break. Focused on herself. Enrolled in college classes and got a job waiting tables at a local cafe. Got an apartment with some girls from her classes. Hung up the bow and arrows to give being Speedy a break. And for the most part, she liked it.

But she couldn't ignore that there was a part of her that was missing. A part of her that for felt empty. Yes, focusing on being just Mia was fine. But retirement was making her restless.

So, she went in her closet and dug out the bow and quiver still full of arrows. Started doing target practice on the roof of her apartment building to brush up on her skills. She started working out more regularly to get back into shape. She wasn't unhealthy or anything, but getting back into a routine was good if she was going to be going out on regular patrols again.

The biggest thing was coming up with a way to keep the secret from her roommates. Sure, she could move out, but she had no desire move into a little stuffy studio in the Triangle. She'd already escaped that place. And she sure as hell wasn't going back. She decided the best way would to be sneaking out at night, or after classes or work. She could fine tune the mechanics later but for now, she just wanted to get back in the game.

It was her first night back on the streets, and while she was itching to get back into the game, Mia's stomach was all tied up in knots. What if something bad happened? What if she got hurt? She didn't have anyone to bail her out this time. No Ollie, Roy, Connor, or Dinah. She was on her own.

As she watched the streets from the rooftop of the Star City First National Bank, Mia inhaled deeply. She could do this. She knew it.
planetaryguide: (Mystery Archaeology)
[personal profile] planetaryguide
  It's a gorgeous Southern California day in Sunnyville: the sun is shining, music's blaring from cars and open windows, young people are dressed for the beach, seemingly if they're just going to school.

Whitney Winters has come to hate the sun. She sees it as just a big lie glitzing over the horror that lies beneath the world's surface. And she's seen horror.  Horror that's cost her friends, family, her very innocence, 

"Yeah, yeah," she says to herself. "Pity party, table for one." She shakes it off and shuffles to class. That annoying Valentina Cazador is playing in the hallways. "That girl is the devil," she thinks, now realizing that she's late, and doesn't even have her chemistry textbook. She sighs, and doubles back to her locker. 

No sooner has she pulled the book from the locker, though, then she realizes that the hallways has been blocked by a wall of ice. 

"Miss Winters," says a pale white man with a sort of Jack Frost motif costume, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid I need you to come with us."

Singapore

Mar. 21st, 2017 08:11 am
planetaryguide: (Jenny Quantum)
[personal profile] planetaryguide
Jenny Quantum was born in Singapore, and knows its streets and alleys on a subatomic level. She can feel the city's pulse and flow in her blood, even when she's away. It's why she always returns here, when all of the universe is theoretically open to her. Singapore is home. It's where she feels safe. which for all her power is a feeling that comes seldom.

But now she's being chased through the alleys by a dozen or so identical looking men. She knows who they are, of course, but can't believe they'd pursue her here.  "What were they thinking?" she muses to herself, and then turns and scatters them with an explosion of energy. She doesn't want to hurt them. Not really. Even at her young age, she's seen enough death to be tired of it. But she won't let them hurt her, anyway.

Her pursuers delayed, she turns again and runs. Again, she tries to summon a door, and again, it doesn't come.

That's when the sonic attack hits, throwing her off her guard. And that's when the arrow tip grazes her arm, and she can feel the paralytic, interfering with her ability to access her powers. She can feel them in the shadows, closing in on her.

She won't die here. She knows that. But there are fates worse than death, and the Spirit of the 21st Century falling into their hands is one of them.  
will_see_you_now: (Grim)
[personal profile] will_see_you_now
Portsmouth, Oregon, the basement laboratory of Doctor Mid-Nite

In the weeks since regaining his memories, Pieter Cross had been busy.  There was a city to protect, people who needed the justice only he could provide, and the help he could provide in his "secret" identity as well.  There was the work he was doing to track down Endless Winter and her metagene operation.  There was the time he was researching how to save Lana Lang's life.  And there was research into what had become of his fellow JSA members.

The last leads were rather few at the time, as his memories and reality both seemed to be sorting each other out.  Michael in particular seemed to have vanished from the face of the Earth.

A chime from his security system alerted him to the fact that he had visitors.

planetaryguide: Elijah Snow (Default)
[personal profile] planetaryguide
Elijah reclines in the set of the luxury plane Planetary's charted for the trip to Singapore, sips a bourbon and reviews the files on Jenny Quantum. Of course, he knew Jenny Sparks -- more than knew her, if he were to be completely honest -- but he's still not sure he buys this whole reincarnation thing. But who knows? The "Children of the Century,"  as Bastet deemed them, were hardly normal cases.

It took some convincing to get Freeman to fly on the plane with him. Superheroes. They're always in a rush. He, on the other hand, could procure legal flight documents and visas on demand. Superheroes flying in and out of Asian airspace usually garners attention, and he wants to get to jenny Quantum as quietly as possible. He doesn't want to attract attention of Singapore or Chinese authorities. He certainly doesn't want more dust-ups with superheroes and supervillains, but that's probably a lost cause. we're too far down that rabbit hole.

He looks over at Freeman. It's not the first time he's encountered the Marvel Family, of course. Hre came to Fawcett a few years ago, looking for the entrance to the Rock of Eternity. 

That's when he found himself in the middle of a superhero donnybrook against one of Doctor Sivana's giant robots. And that's not even when things got weird ...
cock_robin: (Default)
[personal profile] cock_robin
The underworld had been abuzz with information - information readily available to an enterprising young vigilante with a extensive knowledge of pressure points. Someone was pulling together a lot of freelance muscle, and the word on the street was that the target would be the Gotham Diamond Exchange, in the city's East End.

To that end, Damian had shifted his patrol route to take him near the Exchange for the past few nights, anticipating that sooner or later, his patience would pay off.

He alights on a nearby rooftop, crouching atop an air conditioning unit and letting the dark outer layer of his cloak envelop him in shadows, watching for signs that his patience would be rewarded.
greatest_zatara: (arms folded)
[personal profile] greatest_zatara
"Just follow the red lady, just a matter of if your eyes are fast enough, lady and gentlemen." 'Z' addressed the small crowd in front of him and his folding table, as he flipped a trio of playing cards back and forth. He gave a flourish and showed the red queen for a moment before slipping it back into the mix. "She's not smart enough to get away for long. Can't be that smart if she named both her sons 'Jack'." He displayed the Jacks of Clubs and Spades without falling out of rhythm, before letting all three cards into their final place with a gently audible slap of coated paper on plastic.

Sure, these people were getting what would have been a 500 an hour treatment at any private engagement Zach attended, but it was always important to keep his skills sharp. He could have made the game foolproof with even the most basic illusion, but where's the glory in that? He was every bit the stage magician that Zanna was, after all, and that included the cosmetics he was currently sporting. Lightening the hair, making the cheeks a little more gaunt, and shabby-chic clothes. The perfect vision of a reasonably competent busker; not starving, but probably hadn't seen steak in a while. The growing stack of singles on the table looked like a very great achievement (and would make a nice addition to the charitable donations pile when he did his taxes next).
oneofeveryanimal: (Default)
[personal profile] oneofeveryanimal
This was the best plan ever.

Okay so it wasn't the first time Beast Boy had thought those words. He'd have said them but his usual partner in crime is busy hanging out with the big kids, and talking to yourself is a sign of insanity. "Right?" Beast Boy asks nobody, before shifting into the form of a bird and flapping over the wire fence.

Not that he didn't have tickets, but you've got to show off when you can. Never know when an audience would be around!

There wasn't, or at least the people were used to green animals that shift into teenagers. Not a big deal; Beast Boy winked at a passing cutie just to show he still had skin in the game, and went to make sure his tickets were right. Things were...weird since all that stuff with the blue guy. He had more memories than he should, just mathematically speaking, and frankly it was all a little cerebral for a go with your instincts guy like him. What he really needed was some fun, and what better place than a freaking fun fair!

Beast Boy took in the scents of the boardwalk; cheap food, cheaper perfumes, decaying rides and the oil and assorted fluids that kept them working, and a little bit of sick for flavor. Awesome. And as an added incentive, one of a certain someone's favorite authors was doing a book signing in an hour. Some depressing lady who wrote about sad people being miserable. The first two books were kind of okay, maybe.

"Let's just hope she shows up." Beast Boy crouches on a bench, not really embarrassed by the less than human posture he was most comfortable in. Not often anyway.
jakita_wagner: (Eyebrow)
[personal profile] jakita_wagner
Jakita sits at one of the desks, feet kicked up on the nearest corner, as she flips through an outdated copy of LA Travel.

"Spacation? What the hell does that even mean, Phoebe?" There's a jangle as keys get tossed across the room, and she catches the ring in one hand. The question is directed to the young blond woman who is wending her way towards the pair; she shrugs.

"Can't tell ya, Ms. Wagner, y'all don't give us a whole lot of vacation time to try stuff like that out. Maybe bring that up to the old man next time you see him?" The smile on her face softens the harsh words, and Jakita can't help but grin back at her.

Phoebe holds out a neatly-labeled folder. "This has everything you need - insurance papers, some traveling cash, and an address for the lady you're there to talk to. I apologize in advance for the traffic y'all are going to hit, so please try not to blow anything up, because it'll just make it worse."
lexcorpunlimited: (Lex Luthor)
[personal profile] lexcorpunlimited
Lex Luthor and Superman soar across the Pacific. Even taking a Boom Tube to international waters, the flight will still take more than an hour. He knows the Kryptonian is curious to see him put the armor through its paces, which is probably the only reason he's taking what is, for him the slow way.

But he has to concede ... he likes flying. It's become a sort of refuge. He forgets about his responsibilities, his agendas. For a moment, at least.

"I have a dozen odd-business ventures and partnerships in Singapore," he says, casually. "More than a number of place suitable to use as a base to look for a quantum-powered teenager. Have you spent much time there?"

He actually finds he wants to know the answer to that question. He can't imagine Superman just visiting someplace. He can't imagine battling Titano and then stopping to try the dim sum.
makeemlaugh: (Default)
[personal profile] makeemlaugh
The Phaeton is one of the oldest, most famous comedy clubs in Gotham, a traditional place for hot young comics to cut their teeth. Its brass facade is broadcast throughout the country on the “One AM at the Phaeton” program, but the best comedy, aficionados say, is when the cameras are off. Its purer.

A set's just finished, and the lights dim. No one notices men in coats ease towards the exits, or anything threatening about the thin shape making its way to the stage. The MC reads his placard, “Wasn't she great folks? Loved the joke about the...well, all of them! Next up is a special guest, an old favorite under the name...E. Kelley?”

The lights go on. The clown smiles.

“Holy cats its the Joker!” A man in the audience shouts.

“Where?!” Joker turns around, shocked, and before the screams start he holds up a hand. Its Gotham, people know how to avoid sudden death by explosion. “Listen, listen, listen. I'm flattered, really, but I'm not here for WORK. There are, naturally, ah heh, precautions...I can't resist a captive audience...but, well. Sigh. Can ol'Uncle J be real with you kids for a second?”

“Who here's ever been abducted by aliens?” Joker raises his hand, and pauses, as if expecting a response. “Anyone? Hmm? You in the back? Well, I was! They wanted me for a comedian, which was actually a bit flattering...except they didn't laugh!” Joker tsks, pacing a bit. “I had to resort to physical comedy, of all things! So I thought I'd sharpen my act! To keep it simple, no one panics or calls the fuzz, we all get out of here alright. Shall we? Ahem.” Joker sprays his mouth with something, and winks.

“Anyone remember Commissioner Loeb? Big guy, white suits, kind of had that balding teacher you didn't want to leave little Stan or Susie alone with look going on? Gloriously incompetent? I miss him, I really do.” Joker looks nostalgic for a second, “But what always threw people off about the old man was, well, the cartoons. I don't know how many of you babies have been in the guy's office but it was everywhere! Mice, ducks, loved the Cashews kids. You know I kidnapped the guy who wrote those comics once, but that's a different story, the point is we're all used to cops being gruff and grim with an optional heart of gold and here's a guy who dresses and acts like everyone's creepy uncle. So I think, what's your angle Loeb? And by think I mean, you know, kidnap." Joker shrugs like this is a normal train of thought. "People just aren't direct enough you know! So I'm there, he's there, we're in one of those convenient sewer tunnels that whatever mad genius that designed this city just put EVERYWHERE, and I've even decorated a little. Ah heh, to set the mood. He barely notices, the swine, just gives the usual you'll never get away with this banter and the Bat's late, I suppose, so I just ask him, Loeb, what's with the kiddy shit?”

“The man looks at me and starts blubbering." Joker makes a little crybaby motion over his eyes, "Says he gets that all the time. He just likes them! Though it made him approachable, reminded him of good times growing up. Doesn't understand how it's any different from sports trophies or pictures of your boat or anything else and the thing, he said, about saying 'you'd never touch a kid' is that it makes a certain sort of mind all the more ready to believe you'd touch a kid and God if that wasn't true!”

“I let the guy go. What could be funnier than that?”
dammitkeerah: (Default)
[personal profile] dammitkeerah
It had been two days since the Amazo attack. And Kara was, at this point, quite restless. Because of the exposure to Kryptonite radiation (which, it had been determined, was NOT from Luthor's satellite, surprisingly enough), they wanted Kara to remain on the Watchtower for a couple of days to make sure it was all out of her system.

She has now seen the entire runs of "Stranger Things", the Gilmore Girls revival, and "Black Lightning" on Netflix, and she wasn't going to resort to
"Fuller House". Fortunately, she thinks she gets to go back to National City tomorrow. Which is a good thing, since CatCo requires a doctor's excuse after three consecutive sick days.
frequentflyer: (Default)
[personal profile] frequentflyer
It had started after the incident. Kendra had awoken in the hospital with only the haziest of recollections of how she had gotten there, a lot of noise in her head, and a vicious urge to go to New Orleans. It had taken her six months after being released to actually book the trip, a little vacation of sorts with a stay in a quaint boutique hotel in the French Quarter and a plan to check out some historical sights. Certainly that would be enough to satisfy the craving, that and several trips to Cafe du Monde.

But then there was the graveyard tour. And getting separated from the group in the dark of night. And the random mugger who seemed to come out of nowhere. Who wasn't a mugger (muggers don't fight like that.) And then the wings. And the near-bloodlust. By the time the dawn was rising Kendra found herself sitting in the sculpture yard of a closed museum in nearby St. Roch, knuckles stained with blood and two enormous wings sprouted from her back.

She eventually made her way back to the hotel, but she didn't go home. Instead, she rented an apartment in the Quarter, effectively disappearing from her life except for at night.

Most people don't blink at the wings in the French Quarter after dark.
lexcorpunlimited: (All Business)
[personal profile] lexcorpunlimited
Lex stares out the window at the Metropolis skyline, running the battle with the Amazo units again through his mind. In another lifetime, he would have felt immensely satisfied with the results, but he's at a different place right now, and his current plans don't involve antagonizing the Kryptonians unless it's necessary.

With the defeat of the Amazos, his armor had reverted to its true form ... damaged, but salvageable. Clearly, its mastery over Firestorm's powers isn't total. Indeed, while their power levels were commensurate with the original heroes, its ability to utilize those abilities was sub par.

"But that design," he thinks to himself. "They've changed. This is no longer solely Ivo's work."

His muscles tense as he thinks. The news of Supergirl's injury spread quickly, and Superman and the Justice League retreated to deal with the situation, leaving him to pick up the pieces. Never mind that it was effectively his work that defeated two of them. No, that would be giving the "supervillain" too much credit. Bah.

But he hadn't meant for Supergirl to be injured. That Storm Door was designed for him to remain safe in the satellite while the Kryptonian squashed himself against it. Lex can't help but realize that if he had been in Supergirl's place, he'd be dead. So was there a design flaw? Stormwatch technology was hard to come by, but he had managed to duplicate it entirely. Was Superman that much more powerful than John Cumberland was? He'd accounted for that. That leaves the Amazo itself. Somehow, it's new arrangement had interfered with the field, with both being destroyed. It wasn't a matter strictly of power. It was some X factor about the android itself. Something he didn't know.

He thinks about Supergirl, and is almost saddened at the thought.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," he says aloud, barely audible. No matter, though. He knows they'll come for him soon. If only to bluster and threaten.
planetaryguide: (Mystery Archaeology)
[personal profile] planetaryguide

And then, the world turns, and they are somewhere else. Someplace impossibly old. It's a dizzying spin, even for the mightiest among them, but in an instant, Elijah Snow, Jakita Wagner, Abdullah El-Amin, Black Adam, Freddy Freeman and Jay Garrick find themselves in the market of an ancient city, its towers reaching high toward the sky, it's buildings opulent and clean ... but empty.

At first, there appears to be no life in the city at all. But then, a cat appears, perched in a window. It is black and sleek, and it regards the visitors curiously, but makes no move to either run nor greet them.

Elijah takes a moment to take stock of the situation. The timely intervention of Shazam (note to self: Not the one he thought it was at first) seems to have quelled the fight between Jakita and Adam. Jakita looks a little banged up, but none the worse for wear. And then there's Abdullah ...

"Mr. Garrick," says Elijah. "It's an honor to meet you in person. I've followed your exploits since the '40s. In fact, I was in Keystone in '43, tracking down the Shade, and saw you two go at it. Quite inspiring."

He had actually interviewed the Shade, afterward, for that year's Planetary Guide. Both encounters caused him to believe that the number of superhumans would only escalate in the years to come. Still ... He shakes off the nostalgia, and turns to Adam.

"Lord Adam," says Elijah, cordially. "I apologize that this whole situation has gotten out of hand. We meant no offense. We were simply trying to make contact with this young man here."

He nods toward Abdullah, who is still wound tense, but seemingly not preparing to attack immediately. 

"
Abdullah El-Amin," he says, not making any sudden movement toward the boy. "My name is Elijah Snow. I've been looking for you for a long time now. We have some things in common."

Abdullah regards the man, but it's difficult to read his reactions beneath the mask.

"They call me the Ghost of the Desert, now" he says, levelly. Elijah chuckles, and nods.

"Heh. They call me the Ghost of the Twentieth Century,"  he says. "Maybe they're running out of cute nicknames."

will_see_you_now: (Working)
[personal profile] will_see_you_now
STAR Labs*, Metropolis

Doctor Mid-Nite was still finding his place in things, as memories returned and other pieces of reality seemed to be playing catch-up, but people were remembering and recognizing him.   STAR Labs had called on him before, when they needed someone who crossed the boundaries of medicine, science, and super-heroics.

Such was the case now.  The woman calling herself Superwoman had turned to them for help, and in turn, they had had turned to him.  She was dying and no one had been able to explain why.

He'd run a few tests of his own,and though he wished he had Michael here to further verify the results, he was reasonably certain, certain enough to give her the news.

She was... somewhat strange to his eyes.  Of course, everyone was, but when your vision relied upon the ultraviolet and infrared, your definition of strange tended to be a little bit different as well.  Even powered down, he could see the energies coursing through her.

He looked down at his tablet, then up at her.

"I'm afraid I don't have good news."

(*Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Labs)

Profile

watchtower_rebirth: New DC Logo (Default)
Watchtower Rebirth

September 2017

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 04:43 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios