Tandristy
Only right twice a day
- Location
- Dallas
I know Krypto is around in this universe, but Wolf is totally best doggo right now.
Life Ore Death - DC Feruchemy [Young Justice]
- Thread starter Obloquy
- Start date
- Crossover
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
Okay now I want to see Renka boggling at Wolf, Krypto, and Ace all returning together from a Very Doggo Adventure.
The Casualty Count - part 2
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
Life Ore Death
* January 1 [Overview]Lois Lane was pleasantly buzzed off of red wine, but not enough to ignore the settling lump in her stomach. She dialed again.
<Erm, is this- yes, it's on. You've reached Clark Kent of the Daily Planet. Please- >
She hung up.
"Damnation, Clark," she mumbled. "I swear, if you're scaring me this bad over a story lead, I will… I will…."
In truth, she didn't really know what she would do. It was already past midnight – well past 1:00 in the morning, in fact – and her closest co-worker hadn't ever shown face at the company party for all Planet employees. She hadn't even seen him all day, in point of fact.
'What was he doing yesterday – well, two days ago by now, I guess – that could keep him so busy without saying a word about it. He said he would be here for the party. I had dinner with Dad two days ago, I didn't see Smallville either, where was he…?'
Having already ducked into a stairwell to escape the claustrophobic cheer, it was easy enough to climb a few flights and navigate the half-lit floor to find Clark's desk. She found a little daily planner – like they weren't living in the 21st century with electronic apps, but Clark liked it old school, of course – and skimmed through it.
"December thirty-first… yeah it said he's supposed to be here," she grumbled. "December thirtieth… 'Home to Smallville for Justin & Leah's club party.' Hmph. Wonder what that's all about." At least it gave her a lead, and a way to potentially get back at him for worrying her. 'After all,' she reflected smugly as she dialed, 'there's one thing that always works to get Smallville's goat.'
'Telling on him.'
<Hello, hello? Who is it? >
"It's me, Missus Kent. Lois. Sorry to be calling you at this late hour," she said, realizing with a wince that Clark's tee totaling parents may not have even made it to midnight for the New Year, and she had probably woken them. "Very sorry. It's just, Clark was supposed to be here, he said he'd make the Planet's party, but I haven't seen a wink of him all night. Get kidnapped enough times… I'm jumpy about it."
<Not so much late as it is early, dear, > Ma Kent replied, demonstrating where Kent had learned his extremely subtle wit. <As for Clark… We had a phone call from Conner earlier today, to say the two of them were together but something had come up and they'd be a bit busy. It sounded like some trouble, but nothing serious, God willing. >
"Oh," Lois said blankly, a chill going down her spine. She knew Martha Kent was a tolerant, amiable woman who was unlikely to get rattled easily and less likely to want to worry other people.
She also knew, from Clark commenting on it, that religious references were what she used when things had gone belly up: worse, the only time Lois had heard one used was when she'd had to call to explain that Clark was believed killed in a car crash.
<We'll let you know whenever we hear anything about it all, Lois; I'm afraid it used a bit too much of all that modern lingo you kids call slang for me to get much out of it. I'll have to talk to Conner about advancing his vocabulary. >
"Thank you, Missus Kent," Lois replied half-heartedly, unwilling to call the woman on using her age as an excuse to avoid the questions. No doubt the couple were even more worried than she, at the moment. "I do apologize for waking you. Sleep well."
<You too, dear. >
After the call ended, Lois spent a solid minute staring at the screen of her phone, wondering if she dared to do what she was pondering doing. Finally she took a deep breath and dialed. 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Besides, he's only a man under that cowl, really; they're friends for that matter, so for sure he'll want to know about this.'
The first ring never happened – Lois got an odd dial tone, and then some mechanical trick or program switched the call to a connected line instead, since this number was supposed to be for emergencies. It rang.
<Hello, you have reached the household of Bruce Wayne. May I know the name of our caller? >
"Alfred, it's Lois Lane. My co-worker Clark Kent and this kid – his name's Conner, he's supposed to be Clark half-brother, but now I'm remembering that time people got replaced by robots and that's a bad thought – but Clark is gone, and his parents only got a call from Conner that I don't know the details of. It really, really worried them, though. I'm not sure if he can spare the time…?"
Alfred was silent a moment too long. "Master Bruce is out and about at the moment, Miss Lane, but please rest assured that I will convey this to him at the earliest possible convenience. In the meanwhile, you may rest assured that Mister Kent brought young Master Conner by on one occasion, and Master Bruce noticed nothing inexplicable about the lad. I will call you if anything changes."
Lois hung up and swore a blue streak. 'Earliest possible convenience means he's so busy he's not reachable right now, and- and- I can't put my fucking finger on why "nothing inexplicable" is scaring me, but it is. Okay. Step 1: Check which Gotham crazies may be keeping Batman busy at the moment, or if it's something else. Step 2: research Conner for any discrepancies. He had that girlfriend who just happened to be in Bialya, and he said he went to… went to… Megan mentioned Happy Harbor! Like the old Justice League headquarters! And I know exactly who-!'
So thinking, she called the phone number for Ferris, her home line or whatever. 'No answer? Fine, I'll leave a message.'
The Ace Reporter then tried digging through old notes for another number, got distracted checking for any easy discrepancies in the stories of 'Conner and Megan,' and it was about a half-hour of trying before Lois accepted that she'd have to wait for daylight when offices opened.
But then....
"I knew I still had it," the woman declared, finally digging up the other number Ferris had given her. 'I know she said I wasn't supposed to have it, because it was for the League's communicator system, and I'd promised to leave it alone.'
'But this might be an emergency. It's worth it to try,' Lois decided.
She dialed.
<Superman here. I'm afraid Ferris is indisposed at the moment, > the Man of Steel said over the sound of running water.
"Oh!" 'I should've thought he might have that number,' she reflected, hating how her heart had fluttered just a little at his voice.
<…Lois? >
'Of course his hearing can recognize me from that. I bet he could even hear my heart skip a beat.' "Yes. This is a potential emergency."
<Ferris is still grounded from field duty. Where are you, and what help do you need? > he responded immediately, his voice serious.
"I just- it's…" She cleared her throat, squared her shoulders, and bitch-slapped her mental star-struck reaction out of the way until business was over with, because this was important. "Clark Kent has gone missing, his parents are worried, and he was last seen in the company of someone supposedly his half-brother," Lois listed off rapidly. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm worried. Best case, the kid could be totally okay, but that just means he needs to be rescued too from whatever has happened. Worst case is the kid being behind this, like one of those androids from '04. It just has me freaking out," she finished, and waited for Superman to respond. And waited. "Um, Superman?"
<Lois, > he said, sounding slightly distracted, <it'll all be okay. Can you just give me a minute or two? >
"I- as many as you need." He didn't hang up, so she just waited. It sounded like… 'No, I can't tell over the... background water? Is that rain in the background? Running water? Maybe it's static.' She waited.
<…Clark and Conner Kent are okay, but they got caught as part of a wider mind-control scheme that the Justice League has handled. I'll tell him you called asking about him; I expect he'll get back to you in a day or two. No injuries, no permanent aftermath. >
"Oh. Oh, thank you," Lois sighed, something unraveling in have chest. 'Aaaand here's the adrenaline crash. Crud, it's almost 3am already.'
<Things are a little complicated right now, but I'll get back to you soon, > he promised. <In fact… Can I take you to the Fortress sometime soon? Tuesday? Maybe that's a little soon. Thursday the sixth? >
"I'll clear my schedule," Lois promised. She hung up and sagged back into Clark's desk chair, relieved to have an answer.
"Mind control," she muttered despairingly. "I thought this stupid victim shit was my shtick, Smallville," she groaned.
Lacking the energy to go anywhere at this hour, Lois just shrugged deeper into her jacket, and nodded off to sleep.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 1 [Overview]
"…Hello?" Dudley H. Dudley said uncertainly into the phone.
<Y-yes, who is this? >
She sounded extremely worried to his ear, and he had to wonder what had happened.
"I'm- I'm Mister Dudley, a friend of Captain Marvel's," he admitted, hoping it wasn't a mistake. "I can't contact-,"
<Mind control, > she said immediately. <I'm- Flash is my husband, and we got a call from Atlantis earlier, from Aqualad and Kid Flash. The Justice League is being mind-controlled, but people are working on- Kid Flash and the other sidekicks are trying to find a cure. >
Dudley slumped back down into his comfy chair, heart sinking. As far as he'd known, Billy was supposed to be immune to mind-control as Captain Marvel; it was supposedly the Courage of Achilles and the Wisdom of Solomon, or something like that.
He should have known it was too good to be true.
"Do you have any news? Why isn't this on the news?" he asked.
<They haven't announced it yet; they don't want to cause a panic, and if the villains know they can't do- do whatever they're doing in secret now… Oh, who am I kidding? I'm just guessing on all of this and worried out of my skull about my- about Kid Flash. His parents aren't much better, either. >
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 1 [Overview]
"C'mon, John," Lynne Stewart-Pierce hissed into her phone as it rang. "Pick up already."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, dear," she asked, hanging up to address her daughter. "What's wrong?"
"Baffroom," she murmured sleepily. "Is Uncle John okay?"
Lynne pasted on a smile and answered, "Oh, sweetie, of course he is. You just know how his job keeps him busy; he's probably off yelling at a bunch of aliens for tax evasion and speeding in Warp 5 speed limit only area. Now let's get you back in bed."
It took her another ten minutes to settle her elder daughter back in the guest bed of her brother's house.
Her brother, who was supposed to host them this New Year's Eve, and had never come home even though he'd called in for leave.
Granted, she knew all of jack about being a Green Lantern, but he'd said he'd be here, and with how dangerous everything was….
She tried the Hall of Justice again and got an answering machine. She almost called Pierce, who was off visiting a sick friend stuck alone for the holidays, but she decided not to. Instead, when she was just about to give up and go to sleep, the phone rang.
Lynne lunged for it.
"Hello?" she asked breathlessly.
<Hello? I'm trying to reach John Stewart. He's one of my boyfriend's emergency contacts. >
The nervous woman's voice was more effective than any sucker-punch at whooshing the air out of her lungs.
"This is his home number; I'm his sister, Lynne. I can't contact John at the moment, but I'll let him know-,"
<His sister? So you probably… My boyfriend Hal is his co-worker, > the caller said carefully.
Lynne swallowed, and said carefully, "In brightest day…?"
<Yes! They both are in the Green Lantern Corps. I'm- My name is Carol Ferris; I, you know, I used to be the Star Sapphire until I got treated. Hal gave me their contact information if I couldn't reach him, but Flash and Green Arrow didn't answer either. Do you know…? >
"I don't know anything, but John gave me contacts for Hawkman and Hawkwoman; they haven't answered either."
<…Anything that monopolized the entire Justice League on a holiday would have to be news, wouldn't it? >
"Maybe if it was an alien invasion, out in space beyond the sensors?" Lynne suggested helplessly, stomach squirming.
<I don't think Flash or Green Arrow would be much help there. And they'd need to be news in case any got past them. >
"Shit," Lynne swore. "Shit, shit, shit."
<I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called, I'm just making things worse. >
"Honey, it would be bad no matter what. At least I can remember I'm not all alone worrying," Lynne assured her bleakly.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
There's a real palpable sense of anxiety and unease here that I love.
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
Which, I suppose, is another victory for the Light: the very fact that the entire Justice League could be taken out of commission for an extended period of time is the sort of thing that shakes people's faith.
- Location
- Leeds
That read as the sequence happening in reverse chronological order since Superman is the only way we could timestamp it. But I'm not sure if it was intended.
Harmony Feruchemy symbol
So one of brandon's artists just revealed the Feruchemical symbol for Harmony on twitter
The Casualty Count - part 3
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
Life Ore Death
* January 1 [Superboy PoV]"I know you and Superman can skip a day or two of sleep, but the others aren't as tough as us," I reminded Wonder Woman gruffly. "Sivana says she needs an hour to finish fixing whatever Batman drugged himself with, and half the Team are asleep. Wait an hour or two." It wasn't the nicest thing I could've said, but I didn't care, and Wonder Woman was rushing too much.
"…You are correct," she acknowledged with a nod. "Perhaps… It is almost one-thirty now," she noted. "Would three in the morning – and my, don't I sound like Batman, now," Wonder Woman laughed half-heartedly. "But, would three be an acceptable time, Superboy?"
"Three-fifteen," I pressed, partly just to see if I could. Wonder Woman typed the alarm/message/whatever into the system.
"That's done," she said, dismissing the screen. "I now have ninety-some minutes to gather my wits. As you mentioned that you do not need so much rest as your teammates, may I enquire with you as to recent events, Superboy?"
"Sure. Can we go get in the sunlight?" I said it like a question, but I was sort of already moving. Wonder Woman didn't mind.
"I can never decide whether it must be more or less convenient to have a way of recharging, as you and Superman do," she mused.
"You don't?" 'I sort of thought she had her powers, or something. Not sure what it would be, I guess.'
"No, I simply have larger reserves of endurance and greater strength, but they are only restored the same as any other human's. I suppose you could say that I rely on food and sleep, but not to the extent of Kid Flash or Flash. Or Jay," she finished, sounding less happy.
We walked out onto the grass, with sunlight streaming through the windows of the Watchtower – a random part of my brain tried to calculate how reinforced they were to withstand the pressure vacuum 'outside,' except there were all sorts of force field possibilities I didn't want to bother with thinking about – and I just flopped down with a grunt I didn't really feel.
Our invulnerability was like that, sometimes. According to Kal-El it-
'According to Clark,' I mentally corrected, because he'd been pretty firm that I could and should keep using his human name with people who knew him. It was the man under the mask, he'd said and the most genuine way I could address him.
But, yeah, according to Clark, there were two or even three part-powers that overlapped to make us invulnerable, which reminded me a lot of when Ferris mentioned about a Resonance Effect in her investitures, but that was a talk for later. But, a consequence of the main part of our invulnerability, which was a skin-tight force field or something, was that it sometimes dulled our senses of touch to the world.
'Like living atop the world instead of inside it, that was what he said. Seems about right.'
"Superboy," Wonder Woman said, surprisingly close to my ear. I started a bit and almost hit her when she nudged my shoulder.
"Sorry," I grunted, realizing I'd missed her saying something, "I've been practicing ignoring my hearing. Worked too well."
"Ah. Are you sure you are not tired? I really can speak with other people until the meeting," she offered.
"I'm not tired," I insisted, "just distracted. I'm the best person to talk to you right now. What do you want to know?"
"…Very well. First, do you know where my Lasso is? The Lasso of Truth?"
"No. Cheetah had it. She was fighting Aqualad and Robin; they were worried about how it would affect Jericho's power."
"Did one of them take it off of her when- she was defeated, yes? Or did she flee with it?"
'I just said she fought Kal & Robin.' "I was fighting Alloy," I told her. "Robin stuck a containment collar on her. Can't you grab it off of her now?"
She gave me a grim look. "Savage's allies were all evacuated with him, and several objects, my Lasso included, are unaccounted for, presume stolen. Cheetah is no longer present for me to retrieve it. Did you see anyone other than Hal or John using green light, in the fighting?"
"No. Did someone steal one of their rings?" I guessed, which… 'I'm pretty sure the Guardians or whoever can track those. Can't they?'
"Worse," she said, "they stole the ring used by Alan Scott, the original Green Lantern from the Justice Society of America."
"Can't the Guardians track it down?" I asked.
"No. The details are… complex, but suffice to say, his ring was not made by the Guardians, and cannot be traced by them."
"Oh." 'That's going to be a pain when it gets used on us,' I predicted with not quite a wince. 'I'll have to punch someone extra hard for that.'
"Yes," she agreed. My eyes were closed again, but I heard her get down to lie beside me on the grass. "I don't do this often enough. I need to remember to take the time to just be more often. It was a good idea. Maybe we should ask Superman to join us?"
"He's busy with something," I said immediately, because that was exactly why I'd jumped in when I overheard her talking about calling a meeting too soon for them to be done. He'd noticed, I'd noticed, he'd gone off to help with it, and I didn't want them interrupted.
"…With what?" Wonder Woman asked, shifting beside me. I kept my eyes closed and tried not to clench my teeth.
"Something important. It's private. It'll take a while," I answered shortly.
"What on- ah," she breathed suddenly. "I had wondered where Renka had gone to. Will she be okay?"
Now I opened my eyes and gave her a look. 'Talk about a stupid question.' "Have you ever seen her crying?"
"I- tears, once or twice, perhaps, but more from pain. She was crying?"
"Sounded like it. Superman and I both heard her. I don't think you'll be any help right now," I added as her weight shifted.
Wonder Woman paused. She settled back down beside me. "No, no I suppose not. You look slightly injured; did any of us do that?"
"Wonder Girl. There's a hole in the floor somewhere over there," I gestured vaguely. "Hey. Who's stronger, you or Superman?"
"Currently? Superman," she confirmed, which was what he'd said, but I'd figured it couldn't hurt to get her take on it. "I was his superior in strength and toughness when the Justice League was founded, but his powers have since grown far faster than my own."
"Any idea why?" I asked.
"None yet. Nor can I predict how your powers will grow in the future, I fear."
"I figured." 'Not what I care about.' "Who do you think is stronger, me or Wonder Girl?" I asked instead.
"How did the fight between you two finish?" she inquired, and answering a question with a question was really freaking annoying.
I grimaced, ashamed of feeling almost helpless against her. Robin saved me. "She beat me into a crater until Robin stuck a cure on her back."
"I see. …Under ordinary circumstances, I would say that you are stronger and more resilient than Wonder Girl. Why do you ask?"
"I don't think I could punch someone down to the floor below," I admitted, galling as it was. "Not in one hit."
"I see. Well, it's something you will have the chance to ask her in person while we're trying to understand what happened here."
"Why did she leave- stop being Wonder Girl?" I asked because I couldn't really imagine giving it up. This up. It was the only life I knew.
"You'll have to ask her that," Wonder Woman said neutrally. I grimaced, hoping I could dodge that conversation for a while.
'I really hope M'gann wakes up soon. Or that she sleeps all she needs until tomorrow.' It was about even odds between them, since she'd been almost unconscious once the Martian equivalent of adrenaline had worn off, and was off resting on a cot beside her uncle.
We stayed where we were for a few minutes longer. I wasn't tired or sleepy, but I was a little sore still, and the sunlight helped.
"What's that song?"
"Huh?"
"The tune you were just humming," Wonder Woman clarified. I tried not to flush because, yeah, I could guess about it. Not many options.
"…didn't know I was," I muttered, trying to duck the question.
"How so?"
"Uh…" 'I miss my excuse of being socially awkward and storming off. Social skills suck.' "We had a mission to Bialya? The first one."
"I have tried to stay up to date on all the Team's missions," she answered tersely. I wasn't quite sure if that was supposed to be a reprimand at me or what, but I gave up on drawing it out or distracting her. "Your memories were wiped by a telepath, I believe. Psimon, under Queen Bee."
"Yeah. Except I didn't have any memories after I was wiped, so... I… the world was crazy. Or I was. Maybe both," I mumbled. "Ferris did this thing with her duralumin Feruchemy-," 'Yeah, that's the one for forming connections, she said.' "-and a song to calm me down."
"The same technique to let her use mystic artifacts and speak local languages? It is a versatile ability," Wonder Woman noted.
"Yeah." I didn't really have anything else to say, since she wasn't going to interrupt Clark and Renka.
So we just stayed there for a while, until I stopped being so sore, and M'gann's voice touched my mind to let me know she was awake.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 1 [Red Arrow PoV]
When the 3am debriefing about everything was finally over, and all this shit and secrets were finally out in the open, I just felt… empty.
Tired.
I wished I were dead. Almost.
'I'd deserve it – traitor, pawn, and who knows what else I was responsible for – but I need… I can't go yet. Dinah needs her son back, and Ollie, and that means I need to find the real Speedy. Cadmus, I'm coming to rip you open and strip you down, for good this time,' I vowed.
For the first time in… in… in a longer time than it should have been, I had something other than fear and sickness to fill that roiling void inside me. I had anger, rage at an injustice and what had happened to the real Roy Harper, whom I knew, from his stolen memories, had deserved better. I was going to find Speedy, and help him, and fix everything I had ruined just by being made.
Maybe then I could figure out who I was, too.
"Where are we going?" I asked when I realized Dinah was tugging me along by the arm. Everyone at the debriefing was splitting up in different directions now, and I had the original Roy to look for. 'I should… No. Being a lone wolf was Cadmus programming; this time, I know better.'
"Smaller meeting, about some specifics," she said gently, "and you shouldn't be alone right now."
'Probably true,' I admitted with a wince. "Okay. After that, I want to talk to you about the future. We need to find Speedy."
"Of course," she said warmly, and I wondered how she could stomach speaking to her honorary son's impersonator. "I- Renka!"
"Mm. Hello again, Dinah," she said, before Dinah let go of my hand and swept forward to give her a hug.
'I definitely shouldn't go off alone,' I resolved grimly. 'Not if I'm so out of it… I didn't even realize that she was gone for the entire meeting.'
"Ferris," I said. "Where were you?" I realized that had come out a bit too gruff – Ollie almost said something – but she didn't seem to care.
"Here. Because I wanted to go to the restroom, I was a little late to the meeting. Because I did not want to… stop you… I was here."
"Because you did not want to interrupt," Dinah corrected, pulling back to chide. "Renka, you know no one would have cared if- are you okay?"
I took a second look at Ferris, uncertain what had caught Dinah's attention. 'Something on her face… is she wearing make-up?' That possibility confused the hell out of me. I didn't know her well, and Speedy probably had never met her, but she wasn't one to dress up much.
Ferris offered a tight smile. "I am not okay." She glanced at a device in her lap – I could make out vague lines of tiny text on a screen. "Saying I am not okay will make me less okay. Please do not often ask me. I will be fine, in time," she read off the screen. "Mm. Meeting, talk?"
"What about?" I managed to ask as she turned her wheelchair away to roll toward the table. Kaldur, Superman, Red Tornado, Captain Marvel, Batman, and Robin were all taking seats, and Captain Marvel shoved a chair aside so Ferris could fit in. 'Oh. About me,' I realized, because the three seats at the center of the U-shaped table were left free for Dinah, Ollie, and me. We were the center of attention.
"Several things," Ferris said, tapping at her device. "I have a list, if it is okay?"
"Go," Batman instructed after a brief silence.
"Yes. Thank you. Problems are: Vandal Savage and two other Light member people were on the Watchtower, also some other bad people. We do not know what all of the Justice League did during this time. The Justice League will have to say they were mind-controlled. The Lasso of Truth and the Lantern Scott's ring are missing, and maybe other things. The Red Arrow is a clone of Speedy and thus-,"
My stomach squirmed. "The Speedy," I insisted.
"Huh?" Captain Marvel asked. Ollie put a firm hand on my shoulder, and it was a toss-up what he wanted me to do from that. Not that I cared.
"Roy," he began, but I kept going because I'd been flattered when Kaldur explained about her use of 'the' titles, but now….
"I'm not Roy, Ferris; I'm just a cheap imitation made to betray everything I care about. Red Arrow is a clone of the Speedy," I repeated. "I think he deserves that much respect." 'Maybe even I'm a clone of Red Arrow. Hell if I know when they replaced the real Roy Harper.'
"Mm." Ferris hummed, gazing at me evenly. I shrugged off Ollie's hand and refused to back down until she gave a brisk nod. 'There's something odd about her face, the ways her eyes are lidded, and that make-up job,' I assessed as she spoke, unable to put my finger on what was bugging me. "I apologize, and I didn't not want to… insult you. The Red Arrow is a clone of the Speedy, and thus we need to find the Speedy. Also, we need to… medicine… health…" She grimaced at her screen again. "Give the Red Arrow a check-up for medical problems."
"Shit," I hissed, as I realized what she probably didn't have the words to say. "You're talking about clone degeneration, and other physical implants or triggers. I hadn't even thought of that." 'Nice to realize I may be an even worse threat to everyone than I thought. Or dying soon.'
"Yes." She glanced away from me for a second, over at a corner of the room, and said, "We two speak later?"
"Yeah," I agreed with a gruff nod.
"I think Miss Beautia will be willing to help with the check-up before she goes," Captain Marvel said, sounding a little embarrassed.
'Sure thing, why not? She helped us come up with the cure - I don't think you can get much more trustworthy than that,' I silently admitted.
"Martian Manhunter will check your mind for any remaining triggers," Batman said, and I couldn't tell whether or not he was being affected by a drug hangover; he hid it really well if so. Of course, this was Batman. "Beyond that… A large portion of the Watchtower's security footage was scrubbed by manual commands and Green Lantern overrides before Savage and his accomplices fled. The activities of the away mission team remain indeterminate for the moment; other activities include breaking Parasite out of incarceration, and the attempt to retrieve mystic artifacts from Atlantis. It is highly likely that several more, similarly criminal activities occurred during the time-frame."
"Savage also accessed the contact information of several Justice League affiliates, and had general use to our systems. Not that it was unrestricted, thanks to Batman's quick thinking," Superman continued appreciatively, "but we have to face the possibilities that several League members' secret identities may be compromised, potentially placing their friends and families in further danger."
I bit down on the urge to apologize again, because no one would want to hear it and it wouldn't help anything. I still felt sick.
"I remember, when Lantern Stewart was our, uh, 'den mother' of the week," Robin began, "he mentioned that his ring would save reports of his activities and send it back to the Guardians of the Universe. Can we check the ring records about that?"
"I already asked Hal, and he said his ring had some memory of events," Superman answered, and I caught him giving a look to Ferris, and wow she had a nasty grimace at that bit of news, even if he didn't say anything to her about it. "Most of the past day, however, had corrupted or inhibited recordings. He's going to ask John to check, too, and they're both going to check with the Guardians when they report in about this, but for the moment we still have no knowledge of what was happening for most of the missing period. Ferris?"
"Injuries. Mm…?" She trailed off uncertainly, made a few awkward gestures, and nope, none of us had any idea what-
"Forensic evidence. Potential wounds or other debris on our persons and clothing could convey vital information. Unfortunately, between the combat on our return and the treatment we received afterwards, most of the evidence present is likely to be indecipherable. I'll look into it," Batman said, because of course he'd be able to figure it all out from that. I was surprised he hadn't started already.
Then again, I was surprised he hadn't stuck me in a containment cell the way he once had Dinah when he thought she was compromised. "That must be some hangover," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
Superman gave me an odd look, and I flushed. 'Of course he heard that. Dammit.'
Red Tornado spoke next. "Doctor Fate has already attempted to reverse track the transportation method used to send and retrieve the League away team, but its nature currently eludes our analyses. He has returned to the Tower of Fate for the moment to-,"
<Bleeoop >
I wasn't the only one startled when that weird alien machine – Sphere, though it also got called the Super Cycle – beeped something from where it had rolled up behind us. Ollie definitely jumped an inch, and Ferris had spun around to stare at it.
"It is?" Wonder Woman inquired, sounding surprised.
"You do?" Ferris asked the machine earnestly.
<Bweeedle-ing! >
"Really?" Whatever Sphere had said, she suddenly looked a lot more relieved than I'd seen in-
"Oh, you were crying," I realized. "That explains the make-up job."
"Roy!" Dinah hissed as Ferris snapped around to face me, lips thin.
"Oh hell, I just said that out loud," I realized, burying my face in my hands and hoping she wasn't about to start crying again. "I am so sorry." 'Someone just bury me now and get it over with,' I made sure to say only in my head.
"You were crying?" Captain Marvel asked, and I could totally hear how earnest and concerned he was right then. "Are you- oh, right, you said things weren't okay. Would you like a hug? You look like you need a hug," he told Ferris. I curled up tighter, kept my head down, and cringed.
For a long moment, no one said anything.
"…Hug later, please. Thank you. Mm." 'Well at least she isn't shouting at me,' I reflected, but I stayed the way I was, despite Dinah's nudge to my shoulder. "Sphere says xe knows what is the transportation. The New Gods use it. Mm, it is a…?"
<Bleeeeoop >
"Mm. Difficult to translate. Yet. Mm. Sphere… cannot 'reverse track' it, yes?"
<Plooong >
"Sphere cannot reverse track it," she confirmed. "Mm. Yet, it is- transportation reverse track can do. Sphere cannot. Maybe other New Gods can reverse track the transportation, yes? We can ask, I think, ask… mm… Scott and Barda?" she finished carefully.
<Pleeeeong >
"Scott Free and Big Barda," she repeated.
"You want to invite two attempted murderers onto the Watchtower?" Batman asked skeptically.
"You invited me on the Watchtower," she retorted. I wondered what that was- I flashed back briefly to our mission in China, and what she-
'Hell,' I realized as it hit me again. 'I thought I was going after the Shadows and all along I was dancing on their strings. And Dr. Roquette, I thought I was rescuing her but it only ever happened because they let me. I wonder what else I haven't actually accomplished.'
"Given how vast the security breeches to the Watchtower today have been, adding two more couldn't hurt," Superman argued.
"Does that mean you're going to publish your secret identity in the papers, Superman, since Savage now knows it?" Batman demanded, which caught me off-guard, because I hadn't really known that Superman had a secret identity, living at that North Pole Fortress like he did.
"Does one bother to close the barn door after the horse has escaped?" Red Tornado asked.
"Well, sure you do," Captain Marvel concluded, scratching his head. "I mean, even if the barn is empty, you don't want wild animals getting in, either, and are we talking about just one horse, or are there a lot of horses still in the barn? Oh, and what about any cows or goats or chickens?"
"Okay, I can understand your reasoning. Though, we keep chickens in coops, Captain Marvel, not barns," Superman mentioned.
"If we can return to the subject at hand?" Batman growled, thumping his fist on the table.
"Mm. Yes. Will the Watchtower have new security soon?" Ferris asked him, though he didn't answer her.
"We're already working on security updates to implement, and the Lanterns will talk to the Guardians about possibly reactivating a number of systems that were turned off when the Corps donated the Watchtower," Dinah listed instead.
"Good. Thus," she reasoned, "Scott Free and Big Barda can- should reverse track before new security. After new security, no new threat."
"We'll contact them about it," Superman suggested. "It may even be that they can't track the transportation, so we should ask that first."
"Are there any indications that a member of the Light is or was cooperating with the New Gods?" Batman asked.
<Dinglingling >
"Some New Gods can hide, but… the people Sphere saw were not New Gods, xe thinks. It is possible the Light made the techno-,"
<Bwonnng! >
"It is not possible- not probable likely," Ferris corrected, "for the Light made the transportation. Likely cooperating with Apokolips."
From there, everything moved on to talk about how the League was going to announce this incident, what part the Team would play – I knew better than to call them kids, now, but they were minors and they were supposed to handle covert operations, so announcing that they all officially worked together and beat the League was problematic – and how we should handle the people who had been on the Watchtower.
Finally, we got to the search for the real Roy Harper.
We would begin with Cadmus, was the plan. Superman said Guardian - 'Roy's uncle,' I knew - had already been asked to search it and to call in all the scientists affiliated with it for more thorough questioning, and that there should be a preliminary report within the next few hours.
Ferris noted that Guardian was already susceptible to mind control from past occasions, before she suggested a search that spent less than 15 minutes per floor – which, with 52 floors in total, just searching 4 floors per hour would take until at least this afternoon, so she had a point – couldn't be very thorough, while any unattended employee could destroy evidence in the meantime.
I almost bolted out of my chair right then, had Dinah and Ollie not grabbed me. Much as we'd had our differences – and we'd had those for a while, so I didn't think it was all due to programming, though now I guessed he was better than I'd deserved, anyway – it meant a lot to me when Ollie said he would go down immediately to oversee everything, and he'd take Red Tornado to hack the systems and help out.
Dinah insisted I needed at least a few hours of rest after the day I'd had, and that she would carry me home (to the real Roy Harper's home, because I didn't have one now, which was all the home I deserved, anyway,) over her shoulder if she had to.
After noting that Ferris was now stifling yawns at a rate of three per minute, and that almost every League member had family to inform about all of this, Batman declared that he would go to Gotham for an hour to settle some business before personally overseeing every inch of the Cadmus search as necessary. Of course, he didn't say how likely he thought it was that the real Roy was still there, but I had to hope.
We adjourned until later, and I just had to hope it would all, somehow, turn out okay.
Last edited:
- Location
- Leeds
Hemalurgy didn't come up?
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
Mera has mentioned the outlines of it in the first debrief meeting, but she doesn't know how much Ferris revealed or wants revealed now.
Meanwhile, Ferris was unconscious/recovering --> on-screen getting to where she could break down privately --> breaking down off-screen with Superman --> sitting out the first debrief meeting to collect her nerves and organize her thinking --> on-screen during the second meeting at the U table --> going off to presumably sleep for a few hours again after the scene.
She also may or may not be semi-consciously dodging that big pile of DO NOT WANT conversation she'll have to have eventually.
Ace is not scheduled to show up until the last few months of 2011, but I'll try to make a note of it.
Glad to hear that I hit exactly what I was aiming for! Next installment should be a bit more sappy.
There were cameras, and it was late enough that the footage was not scrubbed (by the Light).
Images of this may end up on some Wall of Shame, beside the pictures of Savage being pants'd, Luthor's face when he heard Conner's full name (Conner Lionel Kent), Klarion flipping shit on Roanoke (thank you satellite photography), and others.
Probably because you thought Comet would be jumping the shark and more than a one-off appearance?
Either way, glad to have you back.
If asked, Renka will remind Wu Mei-xing of her episode smashing the bathroom during their first meeting, and admit that her disgust was partly because that was exactly where her mind went to along with the breeding thing.
Also, Renka really only befriended Gui, while Wu is more a mutual friend with whom she shares some common things. Semantics. *Shrugs*
Well the Light making off with a number of potent/important artefacts like the Lasso of Truth and Alan's Ring was an unexpected but entertaing twist. It will be interesting to see what ripple effects result from that state of affairs.
Red Arrow's perspective was really well handled. You can easily see how and why the search for the 'real' Roy Harper became such an all consuming mission for him in canon.
Red Arrow's perspective was really well handled. You can easily see how and why the search for the 'real' Roy Harper became such an all consuming mission for him in canon.
The Casualty Count - part 4
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
Life Ore Death
* January 1 [Overview]<Hello, Paula? >
"Sandra? I didn't expect- how are you?" the wheelchair bound woman inquired.
<Angry. Anxious. Jittery. Has Artemis heard from Oliver at all? We were supposed to be spending the holidays together. At first I wondered if he had flaked out – he certainly did it enough times in our earlier years – but it's past midnight now and I've heard nothing from him all day, nor from Roy, nor the Hall of Justice or the news. He was never this bad when I knew him before… If you have any ideas…? >
"Artemis called me earlier today," Paula admitted grimly. "There was a- something about mind-control and Vandal Savage. She told me to call for help if I saw any sign of any of the Justice League, and that her friends were working on a cure. I don't- one moment. Hello?"
<Mom, it's me. >
"Artemis! Any news? I've been worried sick about you."
<It's all fine. I'm going to be staying the night for observation so they can check that I don't sleep wrong on any joints – it was just a guy using his telekinesis to try twisting me around, I swear, nothing is broken or anything – and I'll be coming home tomorrow afternoon. Well, today afternoon. I just need a solid eight hours. It's all over, we won, hip-hip-hooray. Okay? >
"I can't explain how glad I am," Paula sighed. "I have Sandra on the other line just now; remind Green Arrow to call home."
<I will. Goodnight. >
"You too," Paula agreed, hanging up. "Sandra, still there?"
<I am. >
"Artemis just called to say they won, and she should be telling Green Arrow to call you any minute now."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 1 [Overview]
"Well, lookie here," a woman purred, sauntering up to Jim's table. "What's a distinguished-looking older man like you doing alone on a night like this? It's been the New Year for a while."
"Meeting someone," he said simply, nursing his coffee.
"At three in the morning?" she exclaimed skeptically, affecting surprise behind her masquerade mask.
"It's open all night," he replied, not looking up. "Now what's a woman dressed as well as you are doing in a cheap diner at three a.m.? You've been hanging at the booth back there for almost an hour, watching me. What's such a sight to see?"
"Well," she laughed, running a hand over his shoulder, "the truth is I've been stood up by my date tonight. It's not the first time it happened, I grant you, but unlike most of the others, I have absolutely no idea why! It's a total mystery," she teased. "So, in the spirit of solving this case and soothing my ego, I decided, 'who better to track down my absent dance partner than the good police commissioner himself'?" Jim finally looked up at her directly as she slid into the booth across from him. His eyes widened.
"You're-?" He cut off and stared at her carefully – what he could see of her around the pink and purple tiger mask, at least.
"Straight from a masquerade ball, where I was hoping to make the acquaintance of some valuable friends? Yes, yes I am," she purred, leaning in, though James Gordon was too old to be flustered by the cut of her dress. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" she teased.
Commissioner Gordon wondered for a long moment what would happen if he tried to take this woman in on suspicion of theft. He'd seen Catwoman a few times in the darkness, and heard her taunts several more, but none of it was identifiable, and she could outrun him.
"You don't know where he is either?" Jim asked instead.
The woman – it had to be Catwoman, even if he could never prove it in a court of law – frowned.
"No, and I was hoping you did. He mentioned this little tradition to me when it interrupted one of our date nights, once, and I thought I might find him here." After years of trust fighting suspicion, Gordon didn't let her implication of a 'date night' rattle him; it was nothing to the innuendo Joker had spouted on occasion about 'painting the town red with Batsy,' and no one would ever think that was true.
"Hate to break it to you, but I don't know anything either," he admitted, sipping at the decaf. Then, just because he'd bet it would offend her, he asked, "Can I buy you a drink or anything, ma'am? I'm hardly a gentleman if I leave a lady of the night all alone."
Sure enough, she cringed. "In that suit? I doubt you could afford anything, especially if you're too honest to be on the take. And if you ever reference an article from that rag ever again, I might claw your eyes out; I am not a prostitute."
"I didn't mean to imply that," he apologized, because in between Poison Ivy's sporadic mischief, Joker's bloody mayhem, Killer Croc's episodes, Penguin's plots, and any number of other colorful characters, the woman who mostly stole from museums and mob families was much lower on his list of concerns than she would be in other jurisdictions. "Besides, I still have some of my Christmas bonus."
"Some? What did you spend it on, patches?" She sniffed disdainfully.
"Oh no," he corrected, brushing off a ragged sleeve in a pretense of embarrassment, "I bought several suits of new clothes, just like we're supposed to do with our bonuses. All of them were in sizes too small for me, though, so they got donated to some children in need." He smirked proudly. "Do you know how loudly a homeless seven-year-old squeals when she gets a pretty pink sweater and gloves? I do."
In a stunning lack of poker face that he would not have expected from her, Catwoman slid her gaze away out the window and said, "No, and I can't say I've ever felt the need. Children were never my thing, really. Can you imagine me as a mother?" Her fingers drummed on the table.
"I've had people compliment me on my granddaughter when we go out together; they only rarely guess that I'm her father," he laughed.
Catwoman let out a laugh as well. "Well," she purred, leaning over again, "you certainly must be… virile, to get a girl in the family way at the age you must have. What do you say we go for a spin, see if we can make Mister Dark Knight die of jealousy?" She stroked a single finger along his jaw, drawing her lips closer. Without otherwise reacting, Jim slapped her unwatched hand away from his coat pocket.
"Bad kitty. Don't make me get the spray bottle," he intoned.
Catwoman drew back as though stung, hissed, and raked her claws in his direction. Jim still didn't blink.
After a few seconds of his even stare, she put her hands down and let out a reluctant laugh.
"Alrighty-o, then, copper," she agreed in a fake accent. "If your offer's still on the table, I'll let you buy me something. Surprise me."
"Bobby," Jim obligingly called out, producing his wallet to wave a twenty at the cashier. "Two cups of decaf-," Catwoman winced. "-and a slice of your carrot cake for the lady."
"Just the cake for me, actually" she called after him. "I don't drink decaf, or anything except t-,"
"Make mine regular," growled the Batman from right behind her.
Catwoman shrieked, leaped a solid six inches into the air, and spun around as she landed, claws out, swearing in a mish-mash of Italian, English, and French.
"Don't- don't- don't do that, damn you!" she finally finished with in a fluster as James Gordon chortled in amusement. "You-… you-… you damn winged rodent! Stop sneaking up on people!"
"Wow," Robin called—he had snuck up behind Jim Gordon instead—to the older man's mild shock, as the boy hadn't previously attended any of these meetings. "You're usually much more put together than all that. Cat got your tongue, Commish?" he teased.
"Little birdy," she growled threateningly, but waved it off after a moment to ruffle his hair instead. "Where were you, anyway?" she grumbled. Robin gave Batman a long, questioning look. Batman gave no reaction, save to sit and wait for his coffee.
"It's complicated, and we've got to be in DC again in half an hour, so how about another night?" Robin offered, sliding in beside Gordon. "By the way, I beat you both to the check," he added smugly as Bobby delivered two coffees and two plates. "Hey, Batman-?"
"No. I may be in DC, but you will be in the cave and going up to bed half an hour from now. Is that clear?"
"Fiiiine," Robin whined, and put up no further argument.
Batman and Gordon gripped their mugs and toasted traditionally.
"Here's to a new year in the fight against crime," Gordon offered.
"To justice," Batman agreed, clinking his cup.
Robin cackled and Catwoman rolled her eyes.
"I've got one: here's to just us," she suggested drily, "and making mafiosos cry at the mention of our names."
"Ooh! I'll toast to that," Robin agreed, more enthusiastic than she had expected. "Or better yet, I'll toasted coconut that. Try some!"
Catwoman blinked, smiled, and ate the bite of coconut cream pie he held out to her. She fed him a bit of her carrot cake in return.
"You know kid, you're pretty cool," she complimented as the men sipped their drinks. "I've said it before and I'll say it again: if Bats ever gets too grim and gritty for you, find a way to stray over in my direction, and I'll teach you to tom cat around the town all night long."
Robin made a big show of thinking about it, humming as he shoveled his pie slice in his mouth.
He chewed, he swallowed, and he answered, "Well, you know what Catwoman, that's a mighty good Leaping Lizard Spawn!" he shouted, pointing across the room and prompting both adults to jolt around. "What's Killer Croc doing in a tutu?"
""What?"" Catwoman and the Commissioner asked at the same time, staring for a blank moment at the jukebox as they searched.
Both turned back to find that the Dynamic Duo had vanished, and a few bills were left on the table for the tip.
They shared a mystified look.
"Goddamn Bats and his corrupting that birdy," Catwoman groaned, head in hands.
Gordon just shook his head and sighed. "Every time, he still manages it."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 1 [Overview]
*Doo doo doo, doo-doo doo doo doo. Doo doo d-*
"Hello? What is it?"
Few people would believe, much less guess, that Amanda Waller—better known as "The Wall" in the halls of power—of all people had the Jeopardy theme tune as a ring tone. If asked, the humorously inclined would predict Vader's Imperial March, while the practical-minded would predict a conventional ring tone by default, and the insightful would predict differing tones to alert her to whom was calling.
"Damita? Why're you call-? The Justice League-? Who the what the what?!"
The lattermost option would almost be correct, as some of her business lines did produce a variety of beeps and tones depending on the office and status of the caller. Her personal cell number, however, had exclusively rang out the Jeopardy theme for family calls ever since she was thirty-six, when Joe Jr. had hacked her phone, changed it (a prank he loved to play on all members of the family, along with sending them phony joke texts from each others' phones), and made her promise to keep it for a week as an 18th birthday present to him.
Joe Jr. was shot to death 16 days later; her phone rang the default tone when she received the news. Amanda never remembered why or when she had changed it back to the Jeopardy theme after that, (she hadn't, but Jesse had on his next birthday, in his big brother's honor,) but when it started ringing out the Jeopardy tune she kept it, setting it to ring that way only for family calls, and it had done so ever since.
"Escape at Belle Reve!" This time, Amanda's voice held the faintest note of panic, but she was cool and down to business in seconds. "Roger-!"
"I heard," her husband said, rolling out of bed. He was an accountant, not the man of action Joseph had been, but he knew the necessity and they had drilled for this, just in case. His hand found the panic button under the bedside table as fast as Amanda found the keys to the gun locker she kept in their closet.
One second after he hit the button, security system activated at full alert, and every light in the house turned on for visibility. Metal shutters shut at every window, the door to an apparent linen closet slid open in the hall, and a dozen other tiny changes happened across the house as an alert was sent to the authorities.
Amanda had survived seven assassination attempts so far, and her kids lived in this house. She had taken no chances with their safety.
Seven seconds after the alarm went off, Roger Patterson was out the bedroom door in time to see Coretta dash across the hall, into her twin sisters' bedroom. In his hand, Roger held a specially made metal baseball bat – one that concealed the batteries for a Taser charge on the inside, with output controls that could potentially be set to lethal levels.
In the event of a home invasion, his job was to be the first one out to see what had happened, either rushing to his children's rooms if they were attacked, or buying time as a big distraction should any attackers try to come upstairs too quickly. Coretta was in charge of evacuating the twins, since their rooms were across from each other.
The older twins, who were more often known individually as Martin and Jessie, were supposed to get guns from their mother and guard the retreat if they needed to. For reasons yet unknown, they were slower on the draw and had not yet emerged from their shared guest room.
Ten seconds after triggering the alarm, Roger was halfway down the stairs to the first floor, his weapon charged to a crackle, his eyes and ears alert for any invaders in the building. At that same moment, as they had not yet been noticeably attacked, Amanda was taking the time to check and load the second and third handguns she had taken from the locker, rather than rushing out with the first to join the fight.
Coretta had scooped up Claudia from her bed, and was in the middle of dragging Celine under her other arm, since the two 7-year-olds were too young, confused, and bleary to be responding to the alert in any meaningful way.
Jessie, aged 24, was at this same moment swearing quietly while he tried to drag his twin brother Martin out of bed, the latter being still a bit drunk (if not absolutely sloshed, since he'd snuck in a flask of vodka) from their celebrations.
Sixteen seconds after the household went on full alert, Coretta had just rolled off the trampoline-like cushioning at the bottom of the escape chute disguised as a laundry chute, both her baby sisters still tucked under her arms. The 22-year-old knew she was ostensibly 'safe' now, having got her baby siblings to the armored panic room in the sub-basement, but she knew nothing about what was going on and was already on the verge of panicking.
Martin, meanwhile, was just landing on that same padding, having had his drunken ass dropped three stories down the chute to the sub-basement as soon as his sisters were out from under his landing zone, since Jessie had reasoned that he would be of no use to anyone.
Jessie was in the process of taking a handgun from his mother, who had deduced that no immediate attack was forthcoming and was snapping at him to get to safety and she would follow. Roger remained where he had been before, perched mid-stairwell between the first and second floors to intercept any invaders, waiting only for his wife's word that the others were safe before he would retreat to the bunker behind them.
Thirty seconds after it all began, the last lock to the outside world sealed shut, the armored chute again disguising itself behind them as a linen closet, leaving the five sibling and their parents in the now airtight panic room, which had armor, additional weapons, water, food, and an isolated air supply that could keep eight people alive for two days.
Thirty two seconds in, with the noise of the alarms now shut out, someone spoke and broke the solemn silence.
"What is it, what's happened?" Coretta asked, panting as the adrenaline caught up with her. "Do I need-?" She eyed the firearms held by her mother, stepfather, and sober brother, but did not yet move to take one.
"Damita called: there was a breakout at Belle Reve, she said, number unknown. Somehow," Amanda continued, her voice low but furious, "the new stations in goddamn Spain started hearing about it before I did, even though it happened a few hours ago."
Left unsaid was her assertion that if she ever found out who had knocked her off the Inform Immediately list when she was wanted dead by almost all of the prisoners and lived less than two hours away by car, that person would rue the day their parents were ever born.
Or worse.
"Momma," Claudia complained, rubbing at her eyes, "Ah'm tired."
Her sister Celine – the two were physically distinguishable mostly by blue and yellow color coding – seemed a bit more aware of how serious this was, and silently huddled up against Martin rather than bother anyone.
Roger almost moved to hug her, but Amanda had flicked the safety on, handed it to Jessie, and headed over first.
"Easy, baby girl," she muttered trying to bring back the softness she'd had for her first five kids' childhoods, before food stamps and the streets and the many bloodsucking pests of politics had leeched it out of her. "Mommy's got you. Here," she said, picking Celine up too.
Yes, her last two kids had been a point of contention between her and Roger, but she still loved them even if her second husband had been a marriage more of convenience (along with, admittedly, familiarity and respect, since he'd been one of Joseph's groomsmen) than any deeper affection between she and he.
She wasn't around enough with all her work, while he was a step or two away from a stay-at-home-dad, so she would damn well step up every chance she'd get! Being 'let go' was galling and infuriating, but she'd spent the last three months since September so wonderfully free. Sure, she'd had to do some consulting and organizing, etc., but she'd done some important things as well.
After being asked to resign, in her newly freed up time, Amanda had attended her daughters' school play instead of seeing it on camera, she'd volunteered collecting donations for the church's winter clothing drive, and she'd hosted a Halloween party that had half their class show up.
She'd taken her kids trick-or-treating, she'd gotten everyone in their family together—even Edna and Flo as well as all her kids—to visit her sister Mary for Thanksgiving, and they'd even flown over to spend Christmas in Spain with Damita for the first time since she'd moved there.
Would she want to stay jobless long enough to do it all again next year? Fuck no!
But she could appreciate a taste of something strange, every now and then.
"You think we should make Marty lay off the sauce? Fucker's gone to sleep again," Jessie exclaimed, poking his twin in the side.
"Don't talk about your brother that way," Amanda scolded on automatic. "Save language for the deserving; you're not too old for me to wash your mouth out." Jessie – living in an LA flat share and attending the David Geffen School of Medicine – snorted, but stayed quiet.
"Aw, lay off him Mom, we're all nervous," Coretta complained. "He's just missing Courtney cause she went home to her parents."
"Drowning his sorrows in drink ain't a good thing all the same," Roger said judgmentally. Coretta scowled and shifted over to Martin's side, blocking any attempt her stepfather could make to move over wake up Martin.
She had been 15 when Amanda remarried, and The Wall knew her daughter had not appreciated a replacement father, even if it was Cool Uncle Roger, who'd come over every now and then for dinner.
Amanda was sure there had been some vicious disagreements outside her earshot, but if there was one thing Roger and her children could agree on, it was to not bother their mother with those arguments. Almost anything said between them stayed between them, and Roger'd never said a word to her about those fights while she was working.
Still, at least Amanda Waller could own being a distant (shitty) mother. Given the circumstances, she'd settle for raising them to be better.
"We might as well let him sleep it off, so don't argue," she said, rather than take sides where she wasn't welcome, in something that had probably been fought about five times behind her back already. "Speaking of sleep, where are those pallets?"
"I've got 'em over here. The-? Wow, you two really did do the color coding with the twins," Jessie teased, pulling out a blue blanket and a yellow one for his sisters. "Why didn't you do that for us?" He and Martin had always been just that: Jessie and Martin, not 'the twins.'
'Because I didn't think of it, and you can't afford to be picky about colors with all the gifts and hand-me-downs you two used at their age.'
"I never had a problem telling you two apart," Amanda lied instead, to spare her pride. "These two just love to swap around on me. Yes you do, yes you do, don't you," she teased the two girls in her arms, squeezing out giggles and guilty smiled. "Does someone have a bedtime book?"
Roger kept his eyes on the cameras upstairs, but it wasn't showing anyone around the property, so Amanda took the time to read three full bedtime stories until her baby girls were both asleep again, before she walked over to check the systems.
"Nothing's messing with the satellite link, so I let Dami know we were all okay, and I got word out to the police," Coretta reported.
"How long do you think we should stay in here?" Roger asked, self-aware enough to know he had no measure by which to judge.
Internally, Amanda seethed. "Probably no later than noon, but it's not a matter of time," she said shortly, "it's about information. I want reports in about how many escaped, who's been caught, which way they were headed, and why the bloody hell I wasn't informed."
"Don't forget to ask about whose heads are going to roll, and whether they'll rehire you," Jessie joked.
'He thinks he's joking. Boy, you're a little too naïve for this world,' Amanda thought. 'Then again, I went to trouble to raise you happy.'
"Will they?" Coretta asked. Roger shot her a questioning look as well, fiddling with the now inactive baseball bat.
"They should," Jessie claimed. "If not, I vote you sue up to the Supreme Court for discrimination. Three years, and they fired her after one escape, only for the white guy who comes after her to manage a 'mass breakout' after three months, the incompetent creep."
"Hey!" she barked, because Amanda might not like the pansy man, and he might've damn near brought on himself with his 'de-escalation policy,' but she still had standards. "Professor Strange-," Because hell if she would call him Warden, whether or not he was, "saved my goddamn life during that breakout attempt, and the only reason the prisoners failed was because the Justice League went behind my back-,"
Oh how it burned her to even consider thinking about possibly admitting they were right to do so, because they could've told her, dammit.
"-to sneak in a couple of undercover agents. I didn't exactly cover myself in glory that day, and if things are that bad… Strange wouldn't let a bunch of psychos out into the world when civilians would be in danger," she had to admit. "If it's a mass escape, odds are good that he died in the fighting. Show some respect."
""Sorry, Mom,"" chorused Jessie, who'd said it, and Coretta, who'd been thinking it.
"We put a Bible down here, didn't we?" Roger mused. "I think I want to say a prayer for that man's soul, and all the other guards who may have been hurt in the fighting. Oh, thank you Jessie," he said, his stepson having passed him the good book silently. "Pray for us, too."
"You do that," Amanda muttered, bowing her head perfunctorily as her husband leafed through the pages, looking for a good verse or parable. She closed her eyes as he started speaking, but her mind wasn't really on her husband's words.
She was plotting.
'Heads are going to roll, all across Washington,' she figured, 'and they'll have to bring in the League and the Guard, I bet. Chances are, a fifth or so are going to escape anyway, even with all those forces looking for them. No way Strange will keep the job after that, and I doubt any replacement will want to be more than an interim warden for a few weeks.'
'If I play my cards right, make myself available, and don't try to force anything, they'll be offering me the job back before July.'
'The job, plus a few perks, no doubt, because no one else wants to do this shit. Well, if I cannot parley that into a couple of quieter options to explore a more permanent or useful course of action, then I don't deserve the job any way.'
Her mind continued to slowly work through the rest of the night, and into the morning. She bowed out of a game of Monopoly, was distracted all through they game of Sorry her family dragged her into afterward, and stayed sitting with her back to a wall, saying she'd stand guard to let everyone else sleep, so that she could brainstorm her course of action.
It wasn't until noon of New Year's Day, after 3 of the 116 escapees had been caught within two blocks of her home and the ranking officers in charge had personally guaranteed her safety, that she let her family leave the bunker and get their lives back to something like normal normal.
Normal, of course, was relative: Amanda just chugged two mugs of coffee and set to making phone calls instead of celebrating.
She had work to do, after all.
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- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The Catwoman segment was adorable, especially Robin's bit.
Shouldn't that be Batman and Gordon?
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
Depending on the Continuity? Probably helping cheer some children up
- Location
- Leeds
"I'm sorry it was too small. I'm sure you'd have looked lovely in it."
Did you just want to show off that album, or was it meant to mean something about helping cheer kids up?
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
The first picture link has him helping a kid.
Couldnt find one of him helping the homeless population, so i used that instead.
nmWarden
Webcomic Glutton
- Location
- Texas
Amanda Waller
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
All the kids names were taken from her wiki pages, I swear to Harmony - it was a shocker for me too.Now waa~aait a minute... Amanda Waller has seven kids here!?
That said, lets have a round of applause for badass women of color from unprivileged backgrounds who still make things work, dammit.
I guess that's why she's considered a foil to Batman, with Bruce being a rich white man who lost his parents to crime, grew up obsessed and unhappy, probably skipped out on college in most incarnations for the sake of training around the world, became a Chaotic Good vigilante outside the system, refuses to condone killing, ended up gaining more/new family during his crime-fighting, and has a public persona that isn't terribly well-respected (AKA "Brucie").
Sounds pretty much the opposite of Waller.
The above quote is not entirely how things went in LOD, being taken from her New Earth DC wiki page, but it should get you the general outline I used for how things went.
The biggest thing I had to reconcile was her age, since Amanda Waller in Young Justice is listed as 44 years old in season 1 by Word of Greg.
If Amanda had Joseph Junior at 18, and he was killed right before he could head to college on a basketball scholarship, then he probably died at 18 too, making her 36, which only gives her 8 years to go from housewife/widow to The Wall at Belle Reve.
Ergo, while she's still respected and scary, she's considerably early in her career compared to most versions of her in other continuities. She's still The Wall and a badass, but she'll have room to grow as we continue through the story.
For those wondering, Celine & Claudia Patterson are listed as her kids in Prime Earth, but not New Earth. They both show up for the first times in Teen Titans Volume 4 #2, from December 2011. I haven't read it, so if anyone who has wants to give me tidbits, I'd be grateful.
Given that she kept being called Amanda Waller after she was widowed, and her maiden name was Blake anyway, I squared that circle by saying she remarried an XXXX Patterson but didn't take her second husband's name, though her kids by him did.
Given that she kept being called Amanda Waller after she was widowed, and her maiden name was Blake anyway, I squared that circle by saying she remarried an XXXX Patterson but didn't take her second husband's name, though her kids by him did.
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The Casualty Count - part 5
Obloquy
CrossMyHeart And HopeToDie, StickANeedleInMyEye
- Location
- the Physical Realm
Life Ore Death
* January 2 [Renka PoV]We had all slept well and 'crashed hard' after everything, and we… we were not okay. None of us were. I could see it in the way we almost were paranoiac about texting or calling each other little messages throughout the entire day, and swinging back by the Mountain or staying here instead of being back at our homes or with our other, proper families (those of us who had them).
'Rusts, we're going to need to keep an eye on each other for "not coping" signals,' I decided, scribbling a note about it in the margins of my current piece of paper. I was writing notes about what I would say to Roy, as I waited for him to arrive for our talk, and-
<Recognized: Red Arrow, 21. >
I looked up as he approached and smiled openly, though no doubt it looked a bit sickly. "Hello," I said. "On a scale of one to ten, how bad?"
He paused as he got closer. I made to roll away from the table where I waited, but he waved me off and sat down across from me.
"Hey," he greeted. "What's this about a scale?"
"I hate questions of 'are you okay,' because no, I am not okay. If you say 'I am okay' after my question, then I will laugh. Not okay, no. Thus, I ask how bad you are today. I am, I think, a number four. I am tired, I am afraid, I am upset, but I am becoming less bad soon. You?"
"…Four, but I'll be better once we find the real Roy Harper." I hummed and nodded at his answer, which was about what I expected. "Sivana said I don't have any physical abnormalities except for something about my right arm that she'll be testing. Thanks, for thinking of that, yesterday." I tried to not grimace at all, because him thanking me was… "In the future, maybe you want to say what the numbers mean."
"Mm?"
"The numbers, one to ten," he elaborated drily. "Like, one is being suicidal, and ten is totally happy."
I made a show of putting my pencil to the paper, sticking out my tongue, and saying, "Say… what… numbers… mean…."
His lips didn't twitch, but he gave a huff that was almost like a laugh, so that was one goal a success.
"What did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, and I sobered.
"First, I want to apologize. The 'beat by a woman in a wheelchair' fight, because you said broodmare. I am sorry," I said sincerely, making effort to meet his eyes when I wanted to look away in shame. Usually I had to emphasize my reactions on purpose, but this…
This event had stuck with me, twisting disgust in my stomach ever since I recalled it while reviewing my interactions with the Red Arrow.
"That? Don't worry about it," he dismissed, which told me he did not assimilate its importance.
"I do worry about it," I snapped quickly, before he could continue. "I-," I cut off with a grimace. I had that sensation of almost wanting to cry about it, but it seemed my threshold for tears remained too high, even after yesterday. Instead, I just had to be miserable through a choked throat. "I have done many horrible things," I recited carefully. "Some I was 'not in my right mind,' but I knew what I was doing. Many times, I do- I have done terrible things on purpose. But this time it was a bad thing I did on maybe accident, I think. I am sorry."
The Red arrow was giving me an odd look through his mask. I just knew what he was going to say next: denial. "Seriously, I think you're taking this too hard. I was being an asshole and I totally deserved the-,"
"No you did not!" I snapped again, more forcefully. "Stop sayin- please, stop saying you deserved it!" I glanced down at my notes on how I had wanted to explain this to him. "You were under mind-control," I emphasized, and almost added 'Roy' except he had not liked hearing his name since the discovery, and it would thus be a distractor. "The Light wanted you to antagonize me and find out about my powers. Thus, you did, and I walked into it angry and stupid."
"I seem to remember almost literally asking for what happened," he observed drily.
I clicked my tongue in frustration. "Yes. Because you had instructions to, I think, start a fight and see if I can did fight. Also, it was because I wanted a reason to hurt you, and I am good at manipulating conversation. I would have attacked whether you asked or not. Eventually."
I drooped my head under the weight of that admittance for a moment, and took some time to steady my breath.
When I looked again, the Red Arrow was still looking oddly at me. "This is a serious thing for you," he noted, half a question.
I heaved a sigh. "It is. It is a pattern, and it is an embarrassing thing to me. I will try to do better, and become patient."
He chewed that over. "…Apology accepted, for the moment, and we can talk it over more when you can talk more easily," he suggested, and I nodded to take what I could get. I'd still try to make it up to him, at any rate. "Was there something else?"
"A few things, I agreed," scanning over my notes of topics and pronunciations again. "Mm. I do not know if I am able to help, I think, but if you think I am able to help with finding… Mm, I also want to know what words to say to talk about you. You are Red Arrow, yes? Is he 'the real Roy Harper,' or 'the first Roy Harper,' or the original, or your template, or your brother…? But I will help to find him, if you ask," I promised.
"Given what I know about your situation," he said slowly, eyeing my wheelchair significantly, "I'm not sure how much help you'd be searching. Of course, I wasn't sure how good you were in a fight either, and you whipped me good," he said, and because it was a compliment I tried not to cringe. "You helped out with that time where the Ice Fortresses were causing a storm, too. If I think of something, I'll ask you."
I almost said 'thank you', but it would have been inappropriate as a reply. "I am glad," I said instead.
"That everything?"
I shook my head. "The other-," I glanced at my notes. "-topics," I explained, "are less cohesion. First we think there are other clones. Mm. The mission Artemis and I did in Khandaq, to rescue Miss Tora Drake… It is possible Tora drake is a clone of the Ice. Testing."
"I- There's another?" Then he said, "Ice is still running around though, isn't she? She wasn't replaced."
"Not as far as we know. But the Light, I think, may have tested other clones made before they tried to clone the Speedy." It was something that would be looked into, though probably not by me. 'I remain very invested in learning more about it, when we have more to learn, anyway.'
"That's… good to know. Anything else?"
"Two things. One: I am here to talk if you have questions, problems, fears… I can be good to talk with. Be careful about my advice."
"I remember Black Canary mentioning her breakup with Green Arrow," he said mirthlessly. "I'll keep you in mind."
"Mm. As the same, I will happily talk with the first Roy Harper when you find him, if he has trouble."
The Red Arrow blinked at me. "Th-thanks," he said weakly, but also with… with what I hoped was relief. "You're the first person to say that, you know? I think a lot of the others think he's dead."
'So do I, but the arguments go either way,' I admitted in my head. I bit my lip, did the 'either-or' hand wiggle, and checked my notes.
"Maybe he is dead. But. Killing a hostage is…" I checked the word to use again. "Wasteful. Killing a hostage is wasteful. We will, I think, know soon in time about the first Roy Harper…" I checked my notes again. "…being dead or alive."
"I hope so," the Red Arrow growled. "I can't… I read in your bio, you did some bad shit in the past. How did you forgive yourself?"
I gave him a smile for talking to me about this, curving my muscles in a familiar way, but I couldn't quite feel real satisfaction.
"Forgiveness is difficult. I am… thorough. I try to learn, and think, and control," I reflected, taking another look at my own habits to extrapolate. "Forgive, do not forget. But. Think," I instructed carefully. "Think about what you need to be forgiven for, and what you do not."
The Red Arrow snorted. "The last part is easy, at least. Sleeper agent. Puppet. Traitor." I dug my fingers into my notepaper, but I let him talk to get it out of his system and confirm my assumptions about this problem.
'It sounds like Dinah was right to worry about it,' I assessed calmly. 'Ideally I should "nip this in the bud" right now. Blame assignment is critical in the comprehension process of coming to terms with what's happened.'
"Mm?" I hummed, preparing my counterpoints.
"Savage could never have executed his plan if not for me," Roy declared bleakly. "I deceived everything and everyone I believed in - including myself. Whatever happened to those six Leaguers over those missing sixteen hours - and any trouble that follows because of it - is all my fault. How can I even begin to make up for such a betrayal?"
"First," I answered, trying not spit the word as I did my best to drown out pity with frustration, "you can not saying it is a betrayal."
"What?"
"The Black Canary mentioned to me this morning you were blaming you for the Starro-tech mind-control," I informed him calmly. "I do not blame you, I blame Vandal Savage and the Light." The words tasted like Ash. "When you- after you knew the problem, you helped about the problem. It is not your fault," I emphasized deliberately. "Saying it is, and that you need to 'make up for such a betrayal,' is a bad step."
"Dinah was- yeah, she even said she'd talked to you," he reminded himself before shaking the thought off. "It's true, Ferris. I-,"
I raised my hand to interrupt him. "Here is why it is bad to say you are a traitor. One: if you are a traitor for being mind-controlled, then I am a traitor for being mind-controlled. Please do not treat yourself worse than you treat me."
"You only got mind-controlled because I betrayed the League," he argued. I shook my head soberly.
"I only got mind-controlled because Vandal Savage mind-controlled me. He would have got a member of the Team or someone from the Justice League in a fight if he needed to. It is Vandal Savage's fault. You have to blame Savage, Red Arrow," I insisted, "because if you say it is your fault and you blame yourself, then you are forgiving Vandal Savage for doing it. None of us like this idea. Think about what you need to be forgiven for doing, and what you do not," I repeated. "Blame Savage. You tried to make it right; blame yourself for freeing me from him."
"I- that's…" He sounded more like he was looking for an argument than having a moment of revelation. I so wished I could tear into him.
"Red Arrow, please," I said softly, leaning in a bit. "What are you responsible for? Maybe you could have handled it better, faster, easier… you learn from that things. But. Mm. Blame Savage for what Savage did, did to us and to you. Do not let him get away with it, please."
He gave me a pained and strangled look but didn't argue with me. Instead, he said, "I'll keep it in mind."
I decided to take what I could get, on that matter.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 4 [Overview]
Lois Lane stepped out of the Zeta transporter, giving it a little glance over her shoulder as she entered further into the Fortress of Solitude. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't what it said the last time I came here," she commented to no one in eyesight.
Ten years of experience with Superman's super-hearing had gotten her used to the idea of him knowing what she said even when she didn't know where he was at the moment. It wasn't quite a habit – she only talked to open air deliberately, if she was expecting him – but it was something she'd done and gotten used to doing when she was dealing with him.
"The Justice League is in the process of reprogramming a large part of the Zeta software, after a relatively large breech in security a few days ago," Superman said, descending down from a vertical tunnel. Lois felt her treacherous heart flutter again at the dashing figure he cut, cape billowing about him, and tried to distract herself with thoughts about how flight totally changed the importance of interior design.
"I haven't heard anything about it from Cobert," Lois commented leadingly as she walked up to meet him where he landed. She was well over the idea of someone else being the Justice League's public affairs person – after seeming what it took she didn't want the job anyway – but professional rivalry was too ingrained in her to not start sniffing things out.
Superman looked a little abashed. "I expect you will pretty soon. We've had to speak to a number of officials about it; Batman and Wonder Woman are co-drafting a press release, since she'll have to deal with it once his term is up," he explained as he led the way past the statues of his parents, toward the more personal set of suites he'd made in honor of his closest friends.
"Well, if I find anything juicy I'll try not to sabotage it with my story," she joked.
"Hello," called a familiar voice, and Lois sped up her steps to round a corner and wave at the speaker.
"Hello to you too, Renka. Is everything going well with you?" Lois inquired.
"Mm." Renka Tindwysra didn't turn back to whatever she was doing at the computer set-up, but she didn't wheel away to face Lois, either. "Not well. Not good. Things are… fine, I think," the young woman answered. "Mind-control is unpleasant. Urgh," she grumbled.
"You got caught up in that too?" Lois asked, almost eagerly, but with an undertone of concern. "I remember… you told me off-the-record that mental attacks were a big weakness with you. This was the same thing Smallville got caught in?" she checked.
"Yes," Renka said simply, not glancing at Superman. "Complicated. Mm. The Superman is helping me to have a room here," she revealed. "Robin and my friends are here, also. They are helping decorate."
"Well, it's about time," Lois laughed amicably. "Congratulations."
"Mm. As well, I am 'here for moral support,' thus I am happy to talk to you if you need to talk and yell, after," Renka informed her.
'Well, that isn't at all ominous,' Lois reflected uncertainly, shooting a look at Superman. He looked slightly awkward again, which she felt privileged to see on one hand in comparison with his public appearance, but on the other hand she worried that she was causing it.
"How bad was the mind-control incident. Do you need any moral support?" Lois asked, trying to look Renka in the eyes. "I just wonder, because I've seen Smallville for all of five minutes since New Years and he would barely look at me. How bad was it?"
"He feels guilty," Renka answered simply. "Mm. From one hour, I think, if you ask me again, I will answer more tell you about it."
"Ask again in an hour or so? I can do that," Lois agreed. She hesitated, and added, "Get well soon, will you?"
"Mm. I want to get well soon," Renka agreed, smiling faintly before turning away to let Lois and Superman keep going.
They got down the hall a ways and around a corner before Lois asked, "How is she, really?"
"Really? It can be hard to get a read on her without violating her privacy, if she doesn't want you to know," Superman answered. "I'd say, she isn't doing as well as she pretends, but she knows it. Unfortunately, one of her preferred coping mechanisms is throwing herself into some kind of work as a distraction, so that she can remind herself of her own capability instead of feeling helpless or useless."
"Running herself into the ground, risking overwork, and potentially setting back her recovery time?" Lois summarized. "Familiar."
"Not quite that bad." The way he said it, she was expecting a chuckle out of him from the Batman comparison; Superman looking pained and anxious instead was a chilling reminder of exactly how bad this recent catastrophe must have been. "She isn't pushing her physical recovery, at least, but she is throwing herself into organizational activities, design, and cataloguing. She's currently juggling three different classification methods for summarizing meta-human abilities to try out which ones work well, and she's helping put the finishing touches on a set of tests to quantify and qualify the types of powers and skills we encounter in our line of work. That, and she's going to Atlantis a lot in recent days."
"Well," Lois considered, as something about that last one clicked in her head, "the Atlantis thing might also be a way of pressing her recovery and remembering that she isn't helpless. She can wiggle her toes and kick her heels, she just can't stand, right?"
"That's… right," he said slowly. "Most of her weakness is in her muscles and tendons, I think, though some more is supernatural. How so?"
"Swimming. If she's still buoyant the water can support her weight, and if she can kick around enough to move a little, she probably won't feel so stuck in that chair," reasoned Lois, who had once gone to nationals as part of her high school's swim team.
"I hadn't thought of that; I'll ask Aqualad to keep an eye on her."
"Discretely, boy scout," Lois prodded, budging him with her elbow. "Needing a sitter won't help her get her confidence back."
"Of course," he agreed. They finally stopped in a stretch of hallway between the Daily Planet room recreated in Lois's honor and the kitchen of the farmhouse Superman had installed in honor of Clark. "Lois… I have something to tell you. Something I should have…."
When he trailed off, Lois waited a moment to eye him before she inquired saucily, "Okay, on a scale of one-to-ten, how badly will this upset me? Where one means I'm going to laugh at your awkward ass and ten means I'll break my arm from punching you in the face."
She'd tried to make a joke of it, but from his face, it seemed he didn't find it funny.
"I'm worriedly it'll be a twelve, where you blow up and never speak to me again," he admitted, which had her eyebrows rising.
"What, seriously?" She wasn't sure whether to be offended at his lack of trust in her after all this time, or anxious that he did trust her and was still this nervous, because how would he have something this big that she hadn't sniffed out by now. "You're not secretly eating babies to fuel your superpowers, are you? Or… I don't know, about to take over the world like those alternates that time way back when?"
"No, nothing like that," he said calmly.
"Superman, I really can't imagine anything that could make me that angry at you," Lois answered. "Okay, hit me."
Superman sighed, opened his mouth, and then pulled out a few flashcards instead. Lois blinked and peered at him.
"Renka suggested them," he admitted, glancing over one. "With her language difficulties, she's now in the habit of writing down any complex speeches she wants to give ahead of time. She suggested it would help me say this to have a… a script, if you will."
"Seems... sensible," Lois allowed. "Alright then, I'll just stand back and-," She smirked at him. "-let you monologue like super-villain."
Worryingly, Superman didn't return her banter, so she just waited as he skimmed his notes and murmured something to himself.
"Lois, I'd like to tell you my secret identity," he said.
After the moment it took for that to sink in, she laughed.
"Okay, good ice breaker," Lois said once she was done laughing. "Now, what's this really about?" He just looked awkward at her again. "…You can't be serious." He nodded, still looking pained. Lois gritted her teeth, exhaled while counting to ten, and re-evaluated her….
Well, more like she un-re-evaluated her life up to that point, as she'd once believed in this theory but been convinced otherwise.
"You have a secret identity," she pressed, only half asking a question. "A secret identity. With a social security number, an address, the works?"
"I do," he admitted.
"Right," she breathed to herself, eyes closed as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Right. Okay. I'm calm. I should've stayed with my gut." She glanced around the Fortress again. "I always thought this place looked a little unlived in, but I chalked it up to... Sorry. Are you an alien?"
"Yes, still Kryptonian. It was pointed out to me – by Ferris in fact, who was not impressed at the tangle of everything between us – that I am a surprisingly good liar as well as close friends with one of the best actors on the planet, so I shouldn't blame you for believing me."
"No," Lois growled, "you shouldn't, but it doesn't mean I don't feel like… I should have noticed this," she finished.
"You almost did on several occasions," Superman admitted, putting his hand on her shoulder consolingly.
"Meaning my reporter instincts flopped on several occasions," Lois replied scathingly. An odd look flickered across her face. "Wait, wait. Oh, God. Please don't tell me I know your alter-ego outside of the cape," she groaned.
"Ummm… Well, the thing is-,"
"I thought I told you not to tell me that!" she snapped.
He cringed away as though he could actually be hurt by her. "Sorry!"
Lois shut her mouth and folded her arms, reflecting that the question of whether or not he could be hurt by her was a little unfair.
'For all that he's physically invulnerable,' she knew, 'that just means that his heart is far more fragile than the rest of him. And we're friends.'
Lois sighed and did her best to let her anger die down. "Okay, I can be calm about this. I'm a mature, reasonable grown-ass woman. I'm not going to blow my top or haul off and deck you," she said, as much to herself as to him. "Secret identity: hit me."
She wasn't even bothering to run him through her mental list of people she knew; 'knew' was a wide category with Lois Lane, and he could be anyone from one of the 800+ employees in the Daily Planet with whom she exchanged five sentences in as many years to a contact who had informed her about something for an article or two in the past and whose name was in her contact list because of it.
Rather than say anything, Superman swept away down the hall, into the recreation of the Kent farmhouse, and plopped down at the table. Lois followed after him just fast enough to see him sweep a hand through his hair and don a pair of glasses.
"Lois," greeted Clark Kent in a Superman costume.
She gaped.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________
* January 4 [Conner PoV]
I winced at the sound of impact, swearing, and a crack of bone.
"That could have gone better," I muttered to Ferris as I tried to not eavesdrop on their conversation. Rushed words, sharp whispers, raised voices… 'Yeah, that could have gone much better. Poor Superman. Clark.'
"It could have gone worse, I think, yes?" Ferris suggested, glancing up from the diagram of her house growing up.
"…I think so?" 'I suppose so… If I can't hear her shouting that she'll never speak to him again, then it isn't as bad as it could be, yeah.'
"Mm." Ferris was about to say something else, but Wally rushed over in a blast of wind and cut her off.
"Hey, Conner, I want to check out the Kryptonian medical files and I can't get in, what's the password?" he asked eagerly.
"Buffalo. Two effs, one el, and just keep typing it in," I told him shortly. For some reason, Wally started laughing.
"Oh, wow, Superman is a much bigger nerd than I ever imagined, isn't he?" He ran back to wherever he'd been coming from.
"…Speedsters," I grumbled, because of course Wally had raced off before I could ask him about it. "Any idea what he meant?"
Ferris shook her head silently and turned back to sketching out the Metallic Arts rune-things that she wanted hidden in her room.
"Hey, does this stuff actually have any magical powers?" I asked, squinting at the semi-triangles and the crescent shapes.
"Mm. On Scadrial? Very, very little, I think. On Earth? Maybe more," she answered. She still wasn't smiling much, I noticed.
"Huh." We kept quiet for a few minutes longer, just working and me keeping an eye on her, until I heard heels clicking in the hall.
'Here it comes.' I tried not to look like I was bracing myself for anything as Lois Lane rounded the corner in a huff and came bearing down on us. She only had eyes for Ferris to start with, but I could hear her give a start when she noticed me.
"I- you! You-!"
"Hi, Miss Lane," I said with a half wave, trying not to draw her attention to me or look too scared. 'She can't hurt me. Except my ears.'
"Hello," Ferris chimed again, glancing up immediately this time. "Time to talk? Shout? Throw things? …Mm, is your hand hurt?"
"…A little. And yes, I want to talk," Lois said sourly, glaring between me and Ferris. She focused on me first. "So, I'm guessing you're not actually his half-brother then? Or are you from a different planet after you got sent on a different rocket?"
"Lex Luthor made a clone of Superman, hoping that I'd kill him and be an obedient weapon and replacement," I answered.
Miss Lane winced, which was probably a good sign if she didn't like the idea of him getting hurt.
"I'm guessing you go by Superboy? I heard about you on the news, with the Ice Fortresses, but he didn't want to talk about it. Back then."
"Superboy, also known as Conner Lionel Kent," I informed her, trying to sound… whatever it was, blasé about it.
"Lionel? Like Lionel Luthor?"
"We think Lex may be a bit more obsessed with Superman than we previously believed," I did my best to deadpan. 'I really wish M'gann was here to help me out with this, I feel like I'm going to fumble it.' "Nothing screams 'Why won't the alien love me' like a half-human test tube baby, right?" 'Shit, shit, there was some joke about having two daddies and I'm blanking on it.' "…I have pictures of his face," I offered instead.
After a long, long moment of silence, Lois Lane broke down laughing so hard, she ended up curled up on her side on the floor.
I sighed. 'Success.' "Hey Clark, the Fortress is recording this, right?" I whispered, perking up my hearing.
"It is," I heard him mutter from a ways away. "Just… be discrete about it?"
"No worries," I breathed in reply.
"And thanks, Conner," my brother/whatever added as Miss Lane started to quiet down.
"Oh- oh boy," she choked, starting to stand up. "Kid, that was- fuck!" she wheezed toppling over again. It didn't sound like laughter.
"Uh. Here," I muttered, getting up and going over to her. She'd put her hurt hand on the ground for leverage, and collapsed onto it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, this didn't hurt so much a minute ago," she hissed as I picked her up, trying not to touch anything bad.
"Yeah, that happens. Uh…" I glanced at Ferris.
"Joke about people hitting him," she suggested under her breath, for my super-hearing to pick up on, and I nodded distractedly.
"Most of the people who aren't invulnerable are too preoccupied panicking about, 'I just punched Superman!' They don't remember how much it hurts until they hit something else," I told her, hoping that would work.
She glared.
"I hit the wall, not him," Miss Lane corrected tightly. I got the idea that I'd said something very wrong, and Ferris was no help with it.
"Um. Okay…?" I hazarded. 'Does she want me to apologize?' She just frowned at me, and I had no idea what to say.
"Ask stay or leave," Ferris whispered, "and help her stand."
I realized I was still holding her, and tried to not drop her. "Miss Lane! I, you know, are you staying or heading ou-?"
"Hey, Supey, you'll never guess what I found!" Kid Flash babbled excitedly, reappearing in a blast of wind, waving a printout.
I glared at him as Miss Lane jerked back a few steps.
"Kid Fla-? Of course. You know, maybe I should just stop questioning it," she grumbled, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"Uhh… Okay never mind Rob and I will be back later," he babbled and raced off again.
That left us just standing there, with Clark still close enough to listen in but not interfering yet, which was just awkward.
"Mm." I tried not to mutter a thank you to Ferris for breaking the tension, but I sure was feeling it. "The Superman has invited me to stay at the Kent Farm while I recover as a guest," she mentioned. "I have said no, because I want to be busy, with computers, and I want to talk to my teammates, and I need to visit Atlantis… but I think maybe in a month I will visit. Do you think anything about the idea?"
"About-?" Miss Lane tried to say something and cut off. Finally, after working her jaw a moment, she said, "I think Jonathan and Martha are wonderful people, but you probably know enough about what you need to feel better. I… think I might want to visit them soon, because there are so many things I want to ask them about now that- now that I know about- Hoo boy," she grumbled, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
There was probably some joke I could've made to make things comfortable, but I had no clue what to say still.
"Mm, yes. I want to ask about the Superman's powers in his childhood," Ferris reflected. "The much strong, and when they started."
Miss Lane snorted, which I didn't think was ladylike, but whatever.
"You know, now that you mention it, I want to ask you something, too," she said, turning to Ferris. I totally did not relax when she looked away.
"Mm? Yes, ask."
"Super- Clark, fucking Smallville mentioned only three people have figured out his identity without him telling them, and all were women."
"Wait, what about Batman?" I asked. Miss Lane paused, and then started swearing fervently.
Like, really fervently. 'Forget washing out someone's mouth, I might have wash my ears out after this,' I reflected. I still took notes.
So did Ferris, or at least she was writing down something.
"-and shove it up his nose!" she finished, stomping her foot. "Urgh! He knew! He knew this whole damn time!"
"He did," Clark admitted, prompting all of us to spin around.
I snorted. "You look so weird in that," I complained; he had thrown on Ma Kent's Christmas sweater overtop his Superman outfit.
"Such a dork, Smallville," Lois groaned. "I don't know how I missed it. And how Ferris caught it when I didn't," she half-accused.
"Touch," Ferris answered immediately, giving a little conspiratorial nod to Clark. "You saw me understand it, in the diner."
""Touch?"" Miss Lane and I asked. She glanced at me and I shrugged. I hadn't heard this story either.
"Ferris knows what invulnerable skin feels like," Clark answered, "especially when you squeeze or dig in your nails."
"That thing with the fork," Miss Lane breathed, eyes wide. I was having flashbacks to the times she's hugged me, or sat beside me on the couch in the past. 'Yeah, I get that.' "I thought she was flirting with you, Kent, or shooting down a footsie attempt or something."
"I'm pretty sure any attempt to play footsie with Ferris might get someone stomped on," I pointed out, trying to imagine it.
"No, I played with M'gann all okay," Ferris disagreed, and we all stared at her. "Mm? It is good practice," she observed.
I cringed. "Oh. Right. Your feet," I muttered, feeling awkward and a little turned on. 'Stupid puberty.'
"M'gann. Megan, your girlfriend?" Miss Lane checked. Then she said, "It wasn't a coincidence, that thing in Qurac, was it?"
"No coincidence," Ferris agreed before Clark or I could try to hem and haw our way out. (I'd picked that phrase up from Pa and liked it.)
"I think, if you're telling me all this, then I want to know the whole story," Miss Lane said severely.
"She's Martian Manhunter's niece," I said, because I knew she wouldn't mind and I was the only one here who'd know that.
"Then what's her connection to… I know the Logans aren't visiting Martians, they've been around too long and Marie Logan has a traceable history," Miss Lane reasoned, tapping her chin. "Was it just a convenient cover? You'd never go for messing with minds for that."
"Never mess with minds," Ferris agreed flatly, and Clark was cringing, and I bit down on saying something nasty because we'd just got over the fucking mind-control thing a few days ago and we didn't need her opening it up again. "She saved son Garfield's life."
"We," I began, and glanced at Clark for confirmation that I could, "were the ones who went in and rescued Harjaavti from the mind-control back then. Queen Bee tried to hurt Garfield, and M'gann gave him a blood transfusion that saved his life."
"It also may have potentially given him super-powers," Clark said, not exactly approving of it even though he accepted what had happened. "We still don't know about the effects of cross-species transplants, so we're keeping an eye on Garfield. He calls M'gann his blood sister, now."
"Mm, he will, I think, be okay. Humans, and very humans with the meta-gene, I think, are easy to mix with other things. Very… diverse," Ferris mentioned. "As such, a half-human, half-Kryptonian." She nodded to me.
"Test tube baby," I muttered, still not sure how to feel about the whole 'hybrids are sterile' thing. 'I never mentioned that to her, did I? I sort of I talked about it with Black Canary that once – I should have known she'd ask if we were risking it, ugh – but not with Ferris, right?'
"Nothing wrong with that," Clark commented, which would've been the most empowering, awesome thing he'd said to me ever if I didn't count the five other times he said stuff that made me almost choke up like that in the past. "Besides… Well, what with being the last one," he said distantly, and I twinged, remembering when I'd talked this out with him, "I've had to accept that I probably won't have kids."
"Mm? Why not?" Ferris asked, which… 'Didn't she explain all this stuff to me? Well, the genomorphs covered genetics, but still….'
"Humans and Kryptonians can't… different species can't have kids," I said. 'Well, mules and ligers, but lets not talk about them.'
"Mm, yes, usually, I think, but humans… Humans are prolific," Ferris said carefully, and it felt like a cool breeze ghosted past me.
"Christ, that was weird," Miss Lane muttered. "Prolific, huh? Are you saying Smallville could knock me up if we did the dirty?"
"Lo-Lois!" he sputtered.
"Pregnant, yes," Ferris answered calmly, one eyebrow up, which shut all three of us up fast. "Humans… Mm, the Doctor Fate knows many half-humans in past history. Half-gods, mm, and half aliens, half elves… many and many. It is possible, I think, thus please ask the Doctor Fate, yes?"
We all stopped to think about that for a little bit.
It made me wonder how much I really knew about… Well, what I knew said I shouldn't have been made as half-human in the first place, so I'd written that off, but then… I hadn't….
"Well, I guess that's good for you guys to know, but M'gann and I aren't going to need to worry about it for a while," I decided.
Miss Lane broke down laughing again.
"-hahahahahahaha! I guess," she finally gasped, "it's true what they say: the mouths of infants speak the truth unadorned."
"Hey," I complained.
"Well, Conner, you are only a few months old," Clark agreed, sounding so totally innocent it couldn't possibly be for real.
- Location
- Australia
Did Renka invoke Endowment? It was white which is usually Preservation but prolific (or any synonyms of) doesn't fit and I think the different colours got scrapped due to being tricky to read.
The Sandman
So Zetta Slowpoke
- Location
- Wherever I am, which isn't where I'm not
What I wonder is if Lois inadvertently said anything that could be used to figure out Batman's identity during her little advanced lecture in applied profanity.