[IC] Titans
- Superhero
- Modern
- Historical
- Casual
- Advanced
- Slice of Life
- Small Group
- GM mickilennial
Join Status:
Apply
GM
mickilennial The Elder Fae
Member
Seen
0-24 hrs ago
| New York City, Earth -- Now |
Being teleported through two beacons on separate ends of the galaxy was convenient, but it was also painful. For Kori it was like experiencing the worst of sensory overload and burning pain. She supposed the Rannian scientists who developed it thought the positive aspects outweighed the negative. The Princess of Tamaran obviously did not come to the same conclusion, though after being chased across an abandoned planet with her pursuers to her back she didn’t exactly think about the displeasure of zeta beam travel when she found a malfunctioning teleportation device in an old survey post. Kori knew the dangers of a working zeta beam transponder. But fortunately, instead of having her body deconstruct in the process of moving through time and space she found herself simply thrown into a laboratory halfway across the galaxy.
But Kori didn’t get the time to “take a breath” and try to figure out where she was. By the time she had gotten to her feet her pursuers had made the courageous move to follow her through the malfunctioning transponder and Kori was not so lucky to have them end up missing their limbs or frying their brains upon contact. She had immediately screamed as she scrambled to her back just as the laboratory’s warning device screamed out in a language she did not understand. Despite this, she knew exactly what was happening when her eyes caught sight of the device beginning to tremble and crack.
The transponder was going to go nova and the laboratory was going to explode.
She didn’t even have enough time to react.
The taste of concrete, the smell of gasoline.
Koriand’r winced, face down some amount of distance away from what remained of the laboratory she had found herself in. She closed her eyes and reopened them, trying her best to focus away from the pain and discomfort. The impact of the transporters overload had blown apart the lab’s easternmost wall, igniting the building with unnatural fire, and tossing what appeared to be a variety of primitive transport vehicles on their sides. Some people were crushed under debris and metal while others ran away in fear as Kori’s pursuers called out for her in a toxic, vicious tongue. She knew the words well.
<Find the slave.>
She couldn’t let the Gordanians catch her, but at the same time what kind of person would she be if she let innocent people be hurt simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? What kind of Princess of Tamaran would she be? These people had no chance against Gordanian weapons. The amount of energy she had left from X’chal was low, but she couldn’t just run away. She wouldn’t. A bright hue of energy surrounded her and she pushed forward, flying above the streets as her hands began to glow with neon green energy. She would do everything she could. Even if it ended in her inevitable capture.
“You chase me across the galaxy? Your master must be proud!” She shouted in Tamaranean as she shot out a beam of light at one of her would-be captors.
She was outnumbered. Maybe outmatched. But she was not going back.
Kori spun underneath one of the electromagnetic blasts that exited the Gordanian weapons. Her brows narrowed, recalling how the beams felt when they touched her skin. Her people were strong against gamma beams and anything revolving around ultraviolet radiation. The Gordanians had developed weapons to counteract this somehow, weapons that revolved around electromagnetic energy. It was worse than being cold. It burned like fire, but with a bone chill that attacked her nerves. Energies that could slow and disorient. She still wasn't sure how the Gordanians got their hands on it.
The loud hum of the Gordanian energy weapons became apparent once more as a flurry of more energy beams screamed past her head, hitting the buildings behind her. Kori immediately cursed in Tamaranean, ducking and weaving the best she could while she tried to count how many of her pursuers had followed her from Staphis. This was no small task between the fire that had begun to spread and the innocent people caught in the crossfire. It was hard to keep focus, but as far as she could tell there were at least eight or more alien pursuers.
She shot out another blast of neon energy as she flew down and kicked one of the Gordanians in their chin, sending him flying back into a few of his friends.
How much longer could she fight them off?
| New York City, Earth -- A Few Minutes Ago... |
There was always a good air in New York City during the July 4th weekend.
From the Piers on Long Island to Manhattan’s Central Park, people had flocked to New York to experience a little bit of what The Big Apple had to offer. The end of the eighties was only a year and a half away, and the times were certainly changing. In many respects, it was a good time to take pause and enjoy what time it all had left, though the denizens of New York City had no idea what would strike their streets only several minutes later.
Until then, strangers to New York City might have continued to enjoy the fireworks or the more lowkey things to keep them company in the city.
The Earth fell away beneath their feet.
They were far above the clouds. The blue sky seemingly dissolved away to reveal the familiar expanse of stars as the pair of blue-clad figures began to approach man's own definition of outer space.
"Ekto ra'ay nei lyat moiya," the larger of the two uttered, speaking in a language that was now dead throughout the galaxy. Rendered to just a handful or so of native speakers.
Or not so native, as the case may be. After all, while the Matrix had been operational on Krypton prior to his mission to Earth, the human homeworld was the only one that Kal-El knew. He'd grown up speaking in the human tongue.
It made moments such as this one important for sharing those traditions that may have otherwise died with Krypton. "Ra lyat nei hra tuk," the child-like figure answered, supplying a response that would encourage the conversation to continue.
"Hra sunro..." the man began, trailing off as he seemed to struggle for the right word. Or how to use it in the phrase he wanted to say. "...ra io'akoznecikal nya..." he began, but stopped himself.
"That's not right, is it?" the Superman asked, looking at the impish computer.
"It is not," the Matrix replied, in its usual matter-of-fact manner. A slight head tilt marked a moment where the alien machine seemed to anticipate the need for some positive reinforcement. "However your use of the future tense demonstrated marked improvement," the hologram of the Kryptonian youth supplied.
Unfiltered bursts of the sun's radiation washed over them, as the pair began to emerge from out of the planet's shadow. The hologram of the child flickered away, revealing an amorphous form that seemed to turn to pure gold as its sunstone was pushed outward to collect the energy.
Even while the likeness of the boy had vanished, the voice continued. "I believe that you were attempting to use the human phrase, I will return shortly. However, in our language, you cannot use a statement of fact to describe a possibility. You would state it as an intention."
"My intent is to return shortly," Superman mused aloud, rubbing his chin as he mulled over how to re-phrase that in Kryptonian. Finally, he said, "Sunro nei akoznecikal hra?"
A hologram of a hand appeared, extending one thumb upward in the human gesture of approval."I will, of course, maintain your affairs here until you return," the disembodied voice of the floating solar panel remarked. "I believe that Clark Kent has an interview scheduled today."
"Oh, right, the new county commissioner," the man uttered, revealing the fact that he'd lost track of his own appointments. Looking over at the golden panel, Kal-El said, "Have Jimmy looked it over before you submit the article."
The hologram of the hand flickered again, replaced by an image of a question mark. "You do not believe that my abilities are adequate?"
"Adequate, yes," the Superman stated, holding up one finger as he continued, "But your Kryptonian is better than your English prose."
Drifting further away, the man prepared to take his leave. "Check on Ma for me, too," the Last Son said, before he gave a wave and said, "Back in a bit."
And then he left.
The sunstone panel continued to orbit the planet, reviewing the available articles by award-winning journalists. Lucy Morgan. Jack Reed. Lois Lane.
Its use of grammatical structure was flawless, despite the human English language having many inconsistencies. Obviously, there was a nuance to good writing that was missing from the Matrix's assembled data set. "Noted," the Matrix responded, to no one at that point, as it was now alone.
The solar panel shifted, becoming a blob of purple and gold as it suddenly dropped back toward the planet below. Compressing itself into a ball, the small form sailed through the atmosphere like a comet toward the North American eastern seaboard.
As the ball dropped into the clouds, its shape expanded out into a roughly humanoid figure as the hologram of the boy reappeared to conceal the alien construct.
His course and trajectory ought to put him in Metropolis in precisely eighteen minutes. He was elevating his altitude to avoid any traffic from JFK or LaGuardia, when he registered an electromagnetic disturbance.
Several electromagnetic disturbances.
Cloaking himself, the Matrix vanished from view as he descended sharply to circle back and investigate.
What he found appeared to be a feminine alien being accosted by large figures that could have walked out of Lucasfilm's Creature Shop.
Dropping the cloak, the blue figure with its red cape inserted itself between the alien woman and the approaching figures.
They were far above the clouds. The blue sky seemingly dissolved away to reveal the familiar expanse of stars as the pair of blue-clad figures began to approach man's own definition of outer space.
"Ekto ra'ay nei lyat moiya," the larger of the two uttered, speaking in a language that was now dead throughout the galaxy. Rendered to just a handful or so of native speakers.
Or not so native, as the case may be. After all, while the Matrix had been operational on Krypton prior to his mission to Earth, the human homeworld was the only one that Kal-El knew. He'd grown up speaking in the human tongue.
It made moments such as this one important for sharing those traditions that may have otherwise died with Krypton. "Ra lyat nei hra tuk," the child-like figure answered, supplying a response that would encourage the conversation to continue.
"Hra sunro..." the man began, trailing off as he seemed to struggle for the right word. Or how to use it in the phrase he wanted to say. "...ra io'akoznecikal nya..." he began, but stopped himself.
"That's not right, is it?" the Superman asked, looking at the impish computer.
"It is not," the Matrix replied, in its usual matter-of-fact manner. A slight head tilt marked a moment where the alien machine seemed to anticipate the need for some positive reinforcement. "However your use of the future tense demonstrated marked improvement," the hologram of the Kryptonian youth supplied.
Unfiltered bursts of the sun's radiation washed over them, as the pair began to emerge from out of the planet's shadow. The hologram of the child flickered away, revealing an amorphous form that seemed to turn to pure gold as its sunstone was pushed outward to collect the energy.
Even while the likeness of the boy had vanished, the voice continued. "I believe that you were attempting to use the human phrase, I will return shortly. However, in our language, you cannot use a statement of fact to describe a possibility. You would state it as an intention."
"My intent is to return shortly," Superman mused aloud, rubbing his chin as he mulled over how to re-phrase that in Kryptonian. Finally, he said, "Sunro nei akoznecikal hra?"
A hologram of a hand appeared, extending one thumb upward in the human gesture of approval."I will, of course, maintain your affairs here until you return," the disembodied voice of the floating solar panel remarked. "I believe that Clark Kent has an interview scheduled today."
"Oh, right, the new county commissioner," the man uttered, revealing the fact that he'd lost track of his own appointments. Looking over at the golden panel, Kal-El said, "Have Jimmy looked it over before you submit the article."
The hologram of the hand flickered again, replaced by an image of a question mark. "You do not believe that my abilities are adequate?"
"Adequate, yes," the Superman stated, holding up one finger as he continued, "But your Kryptonian is better than your English prose."
Drifting further away, the man prepared to take his leave. "Check on Ma for me, too," the Last Son said, before he gave a wave and said, "Back in a bit."
And then he left.
The sunstone panel continued to orbit the planet, reviewing the available articles by award-winning journalists. Lucy Morgan. Jack Reed. Lois Lane.
Its use of grammatical structure was flawless, despite the human English language having many inconsistencies. Obviously, there was a nuance to good writing that was missing from the Matrix's assembled data set. "Noted," the Matrix responded, to no one at that point, as it was now alone.
The solar panel shifted, becoming a blob of purple and gold as it suddenly dropped back toward the planet below. Compressing itself into a ball, the small form sailed through the atmosphere like a comet toward the North American eastern seaboard.
As the ball dropped into the clouds, its shape expanded out into a roughly humanoid figure as the hologram of the boy reappeared to conceal the alien construct.
His course and trajectory ought to put him in Metropolis in precisely eighteen minutes. He was elevating his altitude to avoid any traffic from JFK or LaGuardia, when he registered an electromagnetic disturbance.
Several electromagnetic disturbances.
Cloaking himself, the Matrix vanished from view as he descended sharply to circle back and investigate.
What he found appeared to be a feminine alien being accosted by large figures that could have walked out of Lucasfilm's Creature Shop.
Dropping the cloak, the blue figure with its red cape inserted itself between the alien woman and the approaching figures.
"Demolition of buildings in this area is generally inadvisable."
There were quite a number of assailants.
And a number of bystanders at risk. The Matrix was trying to come up with a solution for addressing the multitude of situations with an efficient solution, but this seemed a problem that would benefit from some additional hands.
There were quite a number of assailants.
And a number of bystanders at risk. The Matrix was trying to come up with a solution for addressing the multitude of situations with an efficient solution, but this seemed a problem that would benefit from some additional hands.
Supermaxx dumbass
Member
Seen
6 hrs ago
A firework exploded in the sky above Central Park, showering red sparkles across the New York City skyline, and Wally West frowned. He unwrapped a hyper-nutrient dense sandwich from the picnic basket and shoved it into his mouth, chasing it down with his sixteenth cream soda of the night. That sandwich contained enough calories to feed a baby elephant. Wally felt his stomach growl with dissatisfaction.
“Everything alright?” His aunt, Iris West, asked from the other side of the blanket. She gave him an easy smile that tapered over the concern in her voice.
Wally gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for inviting me.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the fireworks display. Coming to NYC for the first time has been a culture shock and a half, even for him. This place made Central City look like Smallville by comparison. Visiting Lady Liberty and the JSA’s old place in Battery Park with Barry and Iris had been a blast. And watching the Stars kick the Yankees’ asses in their own stadium? Wally’d never forget it.
“I know Barry’s timing was…inconvenient.” Iris sighed, shifting in place. “You know he wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t important.”
“Duh.” Wally groaned, falling on his back and splaying out like a dead man. “I know it’s important! That’s the problem! He’s- I don’t know, fighting the Rogues or an Atlantean sea monster or something- and I’m here. Watching fireworks.”
Wally wanted nothing more in the world than to go with his uncle. He wanted to help him take down bad guys and spin tornados back into sky. But he couldn’t- not without slowing Flash down. By the time Wally would make it back to Central City whatever emergency had drawn Barry Allen there would’ve been over an hour prior. Wally was just too slow.
“Do you know what I did at CCPN for two years before I caught my current beat?” Iris’s smile fell away, replaced by a thin, serious line. “I did fluff pieces for state fairs and interviewed dog show winners. They had me buying coffee for the ‘big shots.’” She gestured quotation marks with her fingers. “I didn’t get a real chance to prove myself until that Batman story fell into my lap. You just got your powers, Wally. Your time’ll come. Be patient, and be ready to chase it when its here.”
Wally gave a weak grin. “Thanks, Iris. I just wish my shot would come sooner rather than later, y’know?”
Somewhere a genie left it’s bottle as fire bloomed in the wrong part of the skyline. “You had to go and say something.” Iris mumbled, jumping to her feet. By the time she had her car keys out Wally was already gone, a streak of red and yellow blasting through Central Park.
Smoke billowed from Kid Flash’s bright, golden boots as he skid to a halt in the street. Chaos filled the neighborhood around him. Buildings were burning, people were hurt and trapped beneath rubble, and a gaggle of draconic lizard-men were shooting lasers at a young woman with a strikingly otherworldly appearance. Another figure in familiar red and blue floated nearby, though he wasn’t the man Kid Flash expected. An article Iris had read to Wally tickled the back of his brain like a half-remembered phone number. “Gonna guess you’re the super-tyke.” Rising to his full, unimpressive height, Wally spread his hands. “But who’re these clowns?”
“Everything alright?” His aunt, Iris West, asked from the other side of the blanket. She gave him an easy smile that tapered over the concern in her voice.
Wally gave a half-hearted shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for inviting me.” He nudged his chin in the direction of the fireworks display. Coming to NYC for the first time has been a culture shock and a half, even for him. This place made Central City look like Smallville by comparison. Visiting Lady Liberty and the JSA’s old place in Battery Park with Barry and Iris had been a blast. And watching the Stars kick the Yankees’ asses in their own stadium? Wally’d never forget it.
“I know Barry’s timing was…inconvenient.” Iris sighed, shifting in place. “You know he wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t important.”
“Duh.” Wally groaned, falling on his back and splaying out like a dead man. “I know it’s important! That’s the problem! He’s- I don’t know, fighting the Rogues or an Atlantean sea monster or something- and I’m here. Watching fireworks.”
Wally wanted nothing more in the world than to go with his uncle. He wanted to help him take down bad guys and spin tornados back into sky. But he couldn’t- not without slowing Flash down. By the time Wally would make it back to Central City whatever emergency had drawn Barry Allen there would’ve been over an hour prior. Wally was just too slow.
“Do you know what I did at CCPN for two years before I caught my current beat?” Iris’s smile fell away, replaced by a thin, serious line. “I did fluff pieces for state fairs and interviewed dog show winners. They had me buying coffee for the ‘big shots.’” She gestured quotation marks with her fingers. “I didn’t get a real chance to prove myself until that Batman story fell into my lap. You just got your powers, Wally. Your time’ll come. Be patient, and be ready to chase it when its here.”
Wally gave a weak grin. “Thanks, Iris. I just wish my shot would come sooner rather than later, y’know?”
Somewhere a genie left it’s bottle as fire bloomed in the wrong part of the skyline. “You had to go and say something.” Iris mumbled, jumping to her feet. By the time she had her car keys out Wally was already gone, a streak of red and yellow blasting through Central Park.
Smoke billowed from Kid Flash’s bright, golden boots as he skid to a halt in the street. Chaos filled the neighborhood around him. Buildings were burning, people were hurt and trapped beneath rubble, and a gaggle of draconic lizard-men were shooting lasers at a young woman with a strikingly otherworldly appearance. Another figure in familiar red and blue floated nearby, though he wasn’t the man Kid Flash expected. An article Iris had read to Wally tickled the back of his brain like a half-remembered phone number. “Gonna guess you’re the super-tyke.” Rising to his full, unimpressive height, Wally spread his hands. “But who’re these clowns?”
Virgil Static Hawkins
The sky was ablaze with the sight of fireworks which was usually the cap for many events. The Multicolored light show in this case represented the glory of the birth of a nation, at least for some. For others, it was more of a means to stick close with family and celebrate regardless of patriotic belief. This was especially for those who had family who fought abroad, to defend their homeland, regardless of the esteem (Or lack thereof) obtained from it.
Central Park was perfect for this. Not only does its positioning give a perfect sight for the city lights, but it is also perfect for the fireworks show common for the Independence Day Festivities. Here we have the Hawkins family and their extended family. It was…mostly just an excuse to have a cookout, enjoy the sounds of the boombox, dance, and overall have a good time.
The sounds of Big Daddy Kane blasted through the small picnic area that the family had commandeered for themselves. The Aunts having conversations and competition over who made the best potato salad, The uncles and males of the family at the domino's table various slangs and conversing about the next moves, the recent events. An escape for the more hectic lifestyle they mostly all lived.
Virgil like the rest of the teenagers took their time out on the dance floor. To Socialize and get their legs moving, familiar conversation about the New York life and school rumors ran around, something Virgil himself was not exactly familiar with, being a Dakota City native, Brooklyn slang and culture seemed alien to him.
“Hey Yo, Virg?”
His mind was brought out of his routine when he heard the voice of his Cousin, fairly older than him who seemed to be hanging out with an older crew. Virgil took himself off of the dance floor and toward the sound a side area near the water itself.
“Heard you knew was around in that bang baby sting, ya holdin'?”
Virgil winced at that point of conversation, It was sadly well known within his family where he was from and what he had done and escaped from.
“Nah man, it wasn’t like that.”
“Aiiight, Verg relax. I was just asking what was up.”
It was…not one of his proudest moments after all, and it was something he would rather forget. Then someone else piped up seemingly a friend of that cousin who was still curious overall about the stories he heard.
“So what’s up anyway, heard you nearly got caught by 5-0 that night…how did you even get out. Heard Dakota City PD don’t play, especially with that new task force for gangs…”
Virgil was set to speak again, when someone decided they would interfere. A Hand was placed on Virgil’s shoulders, a hand belonging to a man that suddenly sent his cousins back a bit. The man was far from his days of playing college football but the man was still in fair shape, including his height of 6’3” And being the oldest of the Hawkins brothers he clearly had some pull.
“Excuse me Jamal, but I require Virgils help with the sodas.”
Jamal back up and nodded as Virgil was escorted away by his father, someone who was clearly not happy with what he had heard.
“Pretty sure I asked you to stay out of trouble on this Trip.”
“I was, they came to me and asked about it I wasn’t even-”
“I know, that’s why I called you over…now come help with these Sodas, Edith is gonna kill me unless….”
The sound of the explosion was far too close now, in fact it was right nearby and the bright lights of blues and red from the fireworks seemed to be engulfed instead in red and orange. Something exploded and the force knocked him and his father over. Central Park, once bustling with the noises of the city in jubilation and camaraderie, was now at the peak of panic. The explosion did not seem to harm him or his father, but it was clear something was up.
“Virgil, Are you…
“Fine pops…”
However, the screams of the denizens made it clear this was not going to be a one time occurrence, Virgil needed to act, he had kept his backpack for something like this but didn’t expect he’d actually need to use anything from it. Turns out that wasn’t the case. His father had gotten up to check on the rest of the family, and with the panic he decided to take his chance.
“Virgil, go get the car we have to get…”
His father turned around, only to see his son gone.
Virgil was already now in the sky, the metal trash can lid he commandeered after getting dressed into his suit, a last minute attempt to find suitable travel to find the source of what was going on. Only to see what seemed to be giant lizard creatures chasing after…What seemed to be Red Sonja, or at least who Virgil thought to be such, The vibrant red hair and athletic tone was a dead ringer for her after all.
“But Who’re these clowns?”
Seemingly, Virgil wasn’t alone in the sudden attempt at heroics, he didn’t expect however to see who he’d find. Blue and Red was a notable color after all, and the S On the chest could not be denied, now could the yellow bolt of another. However, they were a lot smaller than he saw on screen. He was aware of the Redhead, Kid Flash had been palling around with his Mentor for a while now. However, the Super…kid? That was a new one, Virgil moved toward the right of Kid Flash and interjected.
“Dunno, but they clearly ain't takin' no for an answer."
Stephanie had shown up to the diner thirty minutes before the agreed upon meeting time, only to find her father already seated at a booth, casually sipping a small cup of tea. He looked well enough from what she could see, and no one else seemed to take any notice of him at all. The picture of a perfectly un-remarkable New York dock-man coming off a shift. They'd met in person a few times since his release three weeks prior; but she'd been keeping tabs on him from afar, all as part of her own personal monitoring project. New York's parole officer Seyers was a perfectly fine cop, but Steph doubted anyone in the NYPD could recognize the patterns of a prestiged Gotham lunatic.
Or dad, as she liked to call him.
She did eventually have to enter the place. After pacing the block for some fifteen minutes, Steph finally worked up the courage to enter the dingy 24-hour breakfast joint. Smells of wet boots and bacon grease hit her, nearly in tandem with a greeting from her father; standing up from his seat before the door could close behind her.
"Steph! You made it," In a few long strides he reached her at the half-way point between the entrance and his booth. Once they were within arms reach Stephanie began to stretch out her right hand, only to realize too late that he had been moving with both arms out-stretched. They both changed course at the same time to match the others, until the pair ended in an uncomfortably stiff one-arm hug.
"'course dad'," She said as they parted and he began leading her to the both where a waitress was already bringing out a plate of food. "You seemed pretty pressed to talk on our call."
"Coffee?" The woman demanded of Steph, either oblivious or uncaring to the conversation her customers were having. Steph nodded in reply before taking a seat, and a steaming mug appeared beside the un-requested platter.
"Asked Jess to keep them warm for you. You still like waffles, right?"
She un-pursed her lips into a tight smile and nodded, but made no move for the food; instead she only fumbled idly with the cutlery while deliberating how to navigate the conversation. "You said it was an emergency?"
"I'm sorry, that was... a rash over-statement. Just had a bit of a scare, and got worried about you." As quickly as his smile had faded at her question, it returned again as he leaned forward to generously pour syrup over the food. "But you're good and healthy. How's school been? You're going to graduate this year right?"
Steph shrunk down in the booth, face darkening with a blush at the direction of conversation. It all felt so awkward. As much as Arthur might still see her as his daughter, she was having a much harder time compartmentalizing the murderous Cluemaster from the aged, doting man smiling at her with such hope. "Same as always." She replied, ignoring the graduation query, and took a sip of the coffee- only to promptly spit it back into the mug.
"Sorry, should've warned you," her father reached across the table again to offer a napkin. "The coffee is dish water. But the food's worth it, I promise." He nodded to her plate again. The heat from the waffles had already melted the whipped cream into a puddle. With a sigh, and another forced smile to her father, Steph cut into the treat and took a small bite.
Shit.
They were good.
She managed to force herself to stop after two bites, followed by a single strained swallow. "What was this scare about?"
Arthur sighed, frowning at the question. "Guess it's better for you to know than not." He leaned back in his seat and reached into the inner pocket of his coat.
There was a clatter, drawing the attention of the diner's few other patrons as Stephanie's fully-loaded fork clattered onto the floor. Her father had just produced an uncomfortably familiar red bat-a-rang.
"It's not what you think," He hurried, clearly concerned by whatever look of horror her face had frozen in. "I found it at work yesterday and got a bit freaked."
"Give that to me."
He blinked, raising his eyebrows at her in surprise. "I was just paranoid- turned out a few of the guys had actually been making some shady deal, but I had nothing-"
"I'm serious dad," Steph retrieved her dropped utensil and pushed it and the plate of food away as she leaned in, lowering her voice as she continued. "I believe you, but do you realize the trouble you could get into if someone else caught you carrying that around?"
He stared at her a few seconds longer before setting the weapon down on the table between them. It had barely hit the linoleum surface before Steph snatched and tucked it away. "You're right," he sighed. "I'm still paranoid to be honest. The timing, being outside of Gotham..." His eyes glazed over as he seemed to get lost in thought, staring just over her head.
Stephanie patiently took the time to recompose herself from the sudden panic while polishing off her ice water. Eventually, she reached out to clasp his hand, drawing him out of the trance. "I believe you, dad." Her words and smile seemed to reassure him somewhat. "Coincidences happen, don't let it distract you from what's important."
"You're right." Arthur agreed, "Going to finish that?" He nodded towards her barely touched plate, and she shook her head in response.
"No, sorry, but I really wasn't planning on all this." She vaguely gestured to the table and shrugged. "You did say it was an emergency." She added quickly, suddenly aware of how dismissive that sounded. "Sorry I just mean-"
"No I get it," Arthur interrupted, holding a hand up to stop her from explaining. "It's the 4th, you probably have a million better things to do than listen to my paranoid ramblings"
She had forgotten the holiday completely. "Right, thanks for understanding. We still good for next Thursday?"
He only nodded, making no motion to follow as she stood- neither of the pair eager to repeat the uncomfortable greeting-dance from earlier. Only when she'd reached the diner's door did he call out a final time:
"Steph! Promise you'll be careful, right?"
She swallowed the urge to return the sentiment, and instead just gave a wave and a final forced smile before leaving.
Her bike was parked three blocks away, tucked neatly away behind a dumpster and under a black canvas tarp. The covering was put away, and the back compartment opened to reveal the red-and-green self-made costume. Stephanie fumbled with the bat-a-rang in her hands, pressing the inner button to no effect. Water damaged. She cursed quietly and slammed the box shut with the weapon inside, before kicking the bike into gear. At least she hadn't been totally careless. The damned thing had fallen under the port and washed ashore. She was just unlucky.
She couldn't afford to be unlucky though, not if it meant sending her dad into a spiral all over again. After all, she'd been patrolling the docks for his benefit in the first place. She'd just have to do better. Even if it meant diving into the Hudson.
The reminder of the holiday brought Steph further into Manhattan. There was sure to be trouble about, and her plan had been to start a patrol route anyways. Bright fireworks peeked out between buildings as she wove her way between the midtown traffic, eventually pulling up to the park. Friends and family crowded into the out of place green space to picnic under the lightshow. It was a nice sight, nice enough for Steph to take a moment peace- were it not for a sudden beeping in her right ear. She managed to pull over just in time to catch a beam of bright yellow light- too large to be a firework- streak across the sky, followed by a crash and ground-shaking impact.
As usual it seemed trouble had found Steph rather than the other way around. She dove behind her bike, quickly undressing the outer-layer of her clothes while attaching the accessories of her robin-suit. Her helmet cycled through differing vision modes as she did. An incredibly high temperature figure seemed to be the source of the initial energy burst- and the proceeding smaller green blast that came after. The things that followed them were decidedly inhuman, wielding weapons completely unfamiliar to her.
Already other vigilantes in the city were making themselves known. Superboy himself was the first to arrive on the scene, uncannily human looking as he directed in monotone. Steph popped her grapple to raise herself atop the building across the street from the original crash sight. The lone fighter was holding her own, but certainly causing some damage. The super-android was soon joined by two more; a speedster and a flying teen Steph didn't recognize. Three heroes standing around while aliens continued to wreak havoc.
"Whitty quips and questions later maybe?" She said, dropping to the ground just behind the group and looking up to examine the underside of the airborne kid's supporting trash-lid.
"Too many exposed people here, either they gotta go or the aliens do."
Her bo-staff extended with a snap of the wrist while she spoke; she immediately used it to push off the ground and flip herself into the fray. A single bat-a-rang flew from her hip and lodged itself into the closest enemy's weapon the moment she landed.
© 2007-2024