AndyC

Justice League: World In Crisis (GM-led co-op superhero game) Interest Check

Well, between myself, MB, Renegade, MST, and Peter Porker (and possibly Hound), that gives us 5, which I believe is enough to justify moving forward. I'll work on the sign-up/OOC thread over the weekend, and should have it up by Monday.

Justice League: World In Crisis (GM-led co-op superhero game) Interest Check

Also, this may technically belong in Tabletop, so if need be, I'll move it there.

Justice League: World In Crisis (GM-led co-op superhero game) Interest Check

JUSTICE LEAGUE

WORLD IN CRISIS

S Y N O P S I S:
World in Crisis is a co-operative RPG set in the DC Universe. In it, players will portray members of the Justice League, and will attempt to stop disasters, solve mysteries, and fight villains thrown at them by the Game Master. While it does include a very simple dice mechanic (described in the Gameplay section), that is meant primarily as a writing prompt for the players, hence me putting it in Advanced instead of Tabletop (though I will move it there if the mods deem it necessary). As this is more of an experimental format, this game is not meant to continue perpetually, but will end after one “Season” once the larger Crisis is concluded.

G A M E P L A Y:

Hider

At the start of the game, the GM will generate a Crisis, a large world-spanning threat perpetrated by a Mastermind villain. The exact nature of this Crisis and who is behind it is unknown to the heroes, but will be uncovered as they resolve Events.

Twice per week, the GM will roll on a table to generate a new Event that the players can resolve. These can be Disasters that endanger the lives of civilians, Mysteries that require keen eyes and sharp wits, or Villains that attack the heroes directly. The exact details of the Event and how the players resolve them shouldn’t be too different from any standard play-by-post RPG, though there are a couple of mechanics that make the game unique. Each event has three factors that the players must account for: the Location, the Target Number, and the Timer.

The Location is the area in which the Event is taking place: a character in Gotham City cannot suddenly show up to help with an Event happening in Tokyo, for instance. The Target Number is the amount of Progress the heroes need to make in order to resolve the Event-- think of it like the Event’s “Hit Points.” The Timer is how long the heroes have to resolve the Event. The Timer is set at the start of an Event, and is reduced by 1 every time an attempt is made to resolve the Event, or if a full day passes with no heroes attempting to resolve the Event. If an Event is resolved, good things happen. If an Event Timer reaches 0 without being resolved, bad things happen.

Players are allowed 1 post per day, with a minimum of 3 complete paragraphs, recommended no more than 10. In that post, they can do the following:

Make Progress in an Event: Before the player begins to write the post, they will determine how much Effort their character is using, then roll a die to make Progress towards resolving the Event. The die roll signifies how well your character is doing at resolving the Event, and should be reflected in how the player writes the post.

Minimal/Struggling Effort: 1d4
Standard Effort: 1d6
Empowered Effort: 1d12, can only use again after spending one post with Minimal/Struggling Effort
Maximum Effort: 1d20, cannot use again without a Down Time post

For each additional Hero at an Event, add +1 to the die roll.

Extra Effort, Stress, and Catastrophe:
If a player is dissatisfied with the result of their die roll for Progress, they can choose to put in Extra Effort and roll an additional 1d6. If they do this, however, their Stress Level goes up by 1. If a hero has at least 1 Stress, then they run the risk of causing a Catastrophe during an Event, if their next Effort roll is lower than or equal to their Stress Level (for example, a hero with a Stress Level of 3 will cause a Catastrophe if their next die roll is 3 or lower). A hero’s Stress Level remains the same unless they Banter with another hero, or spend a post in Down Time to reduce it to 0.

A Catastrophe will render the hero unable to contribute to the Event-- this could be the hero being severely injured by a villain, causing a horrific amount of collateral damage that they must break away to contain, or otherwise being taken out of action. A character who has suffered a Catastrophe must make a Recovery post to be able to participate in another Event.

Banter:
A player can reduce the Stress of another hero at an Event by playing out a short skit with them. This is the only instance wherein players are allowed to post more than once per day, in order to keep an interaction going, but for mechanical purposes the entire Banter only counts once. All characters engaging in Banter reduce their Stress by 1.

Travel:
A hero cannot suddenly appear out of thin air in order to participate in an Event; they must first spend time traveling to the correct Location.

Down Time:
A hero can spend time with friends, loved ones, etc, to clear their head for the next Event. Reduce the hero’s Stress Level to 0. A player can only make a Down Time post if they are not currently participating in an Event.

Recovery:
If a hero suffers a Catastrophe, they cannot participate further in the Event, and must spend time Recovering to be able to participate in another Event. This can be seen as spending time in the hospital, training harder after a defeat, getting a pep talk from a mentor, etc. Their Stress Level will remain the same as it was before suffering the Catastrophe, but otherwise they will be back in the game.

Once per day, the Game Master will post to update the Timers on all active Events, and roll to see if there are any Twists that occur. A Twist is a change in the Event that may be good or bad-- such as raising or lowering the Target Number, extending or reducing the Timer, or affecting the type of Effort a hero can put into their next attempt to resolve the Event.

R O S T E R & C A N O N

Hider

The roster is limited to members of the Justice League. Since the canonical membership of the League is gargantuan, to keep things simple, the initial active roster of the League is 12 members:

Superman
Batman
Wonder Woman
The Flash
Green Lantern
Aquaman
Martian Manhunter
Green Arrow
Black Canary
The Atom
Hawkman and Hawkwoman
Zatanna

Other members can only be added if all 12 have been claimed, or if one of the initial 12 dies and must be replaced. Other heroes in the DC Universe do exist, and can show up as assists or peripheral characters to interact with, but for the moment will not be playable.

This game subscribes to a mentality of “casual canon,” wherein the exact details of a character’s history can be fudged a bit, so long as they are still immediately recognizable as the character being portrayed. You can mix and match elements from a character’s canon to play them how you want, so long as the core elements of the character are preserved.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

Azarath.

"A calling by name. By speaking the name of the plane of the Azar, one opens the mind and soul to the possibility of worlds beyond our current perception of reality. Older studies of the occult, particularly in the areas of demonology, believe that to know the name of an angel or demon is to have power over it, and in a sense this is true, but not the entire truth. Speaking the true name of an outside entity can bind it, but this is a two-way connection: you may bind a demon to you, but you also bind yourself to it. Thus, it is important to practice the utmost caution when speaking the names of things beyond our world. The Azar are generally benevolent, but naming one is to invite their own wrath upon you. Therefore, it is best to name their plane, Azarath. By binding Azarath to you and yourself to Azarath, you connect to both their world and our own, expanding your perception, your empathy, and your potency as a practitioner of applied metaphysics."

"Uh-huh," I say with skepticism as I read through my mom's old copy of The Great Door, the Dianetics-like text that the Children of Azarath use as the basis of their cult. "Applied metaphysics" is the preferred name they have for magic; ironically, by slapping science-sounding nomenclature onto what is ultimately a bunch of spells and rites and nonsense, they pretend to understand it and have power over it. I grew up around this stuff, and always thought it was nonsense. Now, I'm not so sure.

Metreon.

"An Awakening. Not to be confused with Metatron, the greatest of the Angels in Hebrew lore; or Metron, an entity of an entirely different pantheon best left alone by mortals, Metreon is the Azar name for the levels of existence within ourselves that extend past the body. The closest term we have for this is the 'Soul,' our conscious psyche, our memories, our awareness and willpower and empathy. To understand Metreon is to understand that we ourselves are infinite, and to speak the true name Metreon is to connect to that infinity. If speaking Azarath connects you to the infinity of their realm, speaking Metreon connects you to the infinity of the realm that is your Soul Self."

I've been having recurring dreams about Mom, about the last time I saw her. She keeps telling me to find "the three words that unlock the soul." So far, this mantra is the only thing I've found that sound even close to what she means.

Calling it a "mantra" is generous, given that's a term for an actual religious practice. I ought to call them what they are: magic words.

Zinthos.

"An opening. Zinthos is the name of the Great Door, the barrier between all worlds. For those who do not understand the principles of applied metaphysics, Zinthos is closed; the physical world is the only one they can see and interact with. If Zinthos is open for you, the physical world, the world of the Azar, and the world of your Soul Self all become one. Through the Azar, all things are possible. Through your Soul Self, all possibilities are focused through your willpower and your thought. Through the physical world, those possibilities become reality.

In your meditations, in your explorations into dreams, and in your practice with applied metaphysics, the mantra will awaken and empower your Soul Self, and allow you to project the power and wisdom of the Azar into the physical world.

Connect to the higher realm.

Awaken your true self.

Open the Great Door.

Azarath.

Metreon.

Zin--"

"Friend Rachel, I have the most joyous news!" Kory bursts into the loft above the book store, startling me to the point where I almost fall out of my chair. "I have acquired an ally in our battles, who will teach me the ways of the Ani-May!"

"Wha--" I start, scrambling to cover my books. "Kory, you can't just bring people in here! What if they're with--"

"Oh, ummmmmm, hi, should I....should I go?"

The boy she's brought into our apartment is overweight, with greasy pockmarked skin, a patchy neck beard and mutton chops, stringy red hair done up in a top knot, and a T-shirt with a logo for something called Pretty Pretty Pegasus on it. I feel like I've seen him somewhere before....

"Friend Rachel, this is the Friend Alex," Kory introduces us. "He is a merchant among the Dorks, and commands the Space Marines of the Imperium of Man in the world of the Forty-Kay. Friend Alex, this is Friend Rachel, who--"

"Uhh, we've actually kinda met," Alex says sheepishly. "At the, uh, at the Control Freaks concert the other day?"

"....oh, right, that was you," I remember. "Sorry I yelled at you. I had.....a migraine."

Really, I had a voice that sounded like the universe falling apart shouting in my head. But he doesn't need to know that.

"It's, uh, it's okay," he says, shifting uncomfortably on pigeon-toed feet. "So, Kory says you're playing a spellcaster, right? And she's your Fighter. So I was thinking, maybe I could be, like, a rogue or something?"

"......what?"

"The LARP you're doing this weekend at the con," he explains. "She said you were going to attack a hive of some kind, so I thought you'd need, like, a sneaky ninja guy to help infiltrate? I mean, I don't know what kind of rule system you're using, but like, I've read all of Ashida Kim's ninjitsu books, so I know how to--"

"Okay, one second," I cut him off as I start to realize what he's saying. "Kory, can I talk to you?"

"I was not aware that you were unable to talk to me now," she says.

"In private," I specify. "Sorry, um, Alex, can you wait downstairs for a minute? I need to discuss some things with my, um....team mate."

"Okay, sure, yeah," he nods, "Just whatever you decide, I'm not playing Paladin. Paladins are for babies."

The greasy nerd waddles his way downstairs, and once the door is closed, I round on Kory.

"What were you thinking?!" I burst. "We don't know anything about this guy. What if he's working for the HIVE? And you just led him right to us!"

Kory's eyes widen with realization.

"My apologies," she says, dropping to her knees and bowing in penance. "I only intended to find allies to aide us, not bring potential enemies to us. It did not occur to me that this Dork could be capable of deception."

"...well, to be fair, he's probably not," I admit. "He looks like the only damage he could do is leave a nasty comment on a Youtube video. But that's the other thing-- he thinks this is a game, Kory, that it's all pretend! If he gets wrapped up in all this, it's going to get him killed!"

"But surely his army of rare and shiny Pokémon will--"

"That's a video game, Kory!" I shout in exasperation. "Everything he was telling you about Space Marines and ninjas and whatever, it's all just entertainment. It's not real. He thinks that we're playing a game, and so he was telling you about all the other games he plays."

".....so I have not made a powerful ally, then?"

"No, Kory, you haven't," I say, relieved that she gets it.

"...I see," she says, before her smile returns. "But I have still succeeded in making a new friend! Rather than use his companionship for our strategic ends, we may simply enjoy his company for its own sake!"

"Heyyy, are you, um, you still talking up there?" Alex shouts from downstairs. "Because I was thinking, I don't wanna be a rogue. I wanna be a Goblin Slayer! You know, like the anime?"

".....oh yeah. I can't wait to have this guy around all the time."

"Splendid! He has promised to show us the Ani-May so we may understand the way of the Dork! A fellow Dork at the comic shop also says Alex draws his own Hen-tai, though I am unsure what that is. _{....the boy said it involves tentacles, so I assume it is some sort of aquatic art? Will I need to acquire swimming gear? Perhaps if I conduct research on the Inter-net....}"

This is just what I need. More distractions. More loose ends. More things to barge into my life and break my concentration. More nonsense.

"Why not," I say to myself, rolling my eyes as Kory rushes down the stairs to speak with our sweaty new friend. "Everything's been nonsense since I came to Jump City. Why not a little more? At least it's not more new-age occult garbage, more hocus-pocus and abracadabra and Azarath Metreon Zinthos--"

And then the entire world turns to shadow.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

I'll throw in my two cents.

First off, there's obviously no perfect system or silver bullet that's going to suddenly make everyone inspired and motivated to churn out lovingly crafted posts on the daily. Every format change, every shakeup in the status quo, is going to have strengths and weaknesses, and holes can be poked in all of them. The current format has its own strengths and weaknesses, which we've griped about at length in the Discord chat.

As I see it, the major strength of the free-form sandbox RP is that it gives players total license over their character, and allows them to flex their creative muscle and show off how clever and unique their take on a character can be. It gives us the opportunity to tell stories we want to tell, and -- especially in the case of DC, where many of us have been dissatisfied with the state of the official canon for a long time-- allows us to "do it right." The major weakness of this, however, is that it is entirely dependent on the player's creative muse-- if they're having a bad day, if they had a solid initial concept but then don't know where to go with it, if nobody else is posting and they don't feel urged to post themselves, then players drop out and the game slows down.

Personally speaking, I'm a big fan of tabletop-style roleplaying games, where the Game Master directs the events of a story, where the players operate within a defined set of rules, and perhaps most importantly, where there is the possibility of failure. A group of adventurers exploring a goblin cave isn't tense and exciting because there's anything inherently tense and exciting about goblins, it's tense and exciting because the goblins can kill you. On the other hand, the weakness of a GM-led tabletop style of game is that it funnels the players into a handful of options, which is stifling if you want to do your own thing. Plus, you have to be very careful about how much complexity you add into a system, since the appeal of forum-based RPGs is that you don't need to memorize a 300-page rule book. I do have a system that I have put together, and am going to put up an Interest Check, but it is purely meant to be an experiment to see if it works, not a replacement for the game as it exists.

As for the current state of DCU:G, I think a slight time skip might do some good. Because nobody has made their big public debut yet, everyone's either in hiding or on the run or operating in the shadows or whatever, which makes it harder to do big set-pieces or have reasons to cross paths and interact. Perhaps jumping forward a couple of months so that there are at least a couple of capes out in the open can free things up a bit. Though again, that also has its weaknesses, as it steps on the toes of people who are working on a big origin-story arc.

Long story short......I dunno, you can't please all the people all the time, it is what it is.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

"...may I help you, ma'am?"

"Hello, please yes, I would like to request a formal audience with your ruling May-Or."

"....uh-huh......name?"

"Princess Koriand'r, scion of the Royal House of Tamaran, Watcher of the Seals of Xhaal, Commander of the Grand Armada of Tamarus, and bearer of the title Starfire."

"....and your reason for wanting to see the Mayor?"

"I wish to begin diplomatic parlay between our worlds, and to gain valuable allies in the fight against the ass-holes."

"............"

"If you please?"

".......is this some kinda anime thing? Because the convention's not til this weekend."

My new friend, the native witch-girl Rachel, has spent much of her mornings performing research on our assailants, the Homeland Intervention Vulrenability Explication Corporation, which goes by the abbreviation HIVE. According to her research, they are mercenary warriors, a "private security firm" that operates in many of this planet's various nation-states. From what she has been able to determine, every city in which they operate happens to also see an increase in citizens disappearing-- something Rachel believes to be no coincidence. While I do not come close to understanding the intricacies of this world's politics yet, I cannot see how such an organization is allowed to continue its practices.

So I have come to enlist the aid of the local ruler, the May-Or of Jump City, in the hopes that he will rally the planet's warriors to defeat HIVE and their squads of mercenary ass-holes.

Unfortunately, the May-Or's defender, the Receptionist, is proving to be most unhelpful.

"Forgive me," I say, "But I am unfamiliar in the ways of the Ani-May. Perhaps if I learn and study, I will be worthy of speaking to the May-Or then?"

The Receptionist gives me a flat, dead-eyed look-- the type that Friend Rachel often gives me-- as if I had floobernok lizards crawling out of my g'norzz.

"This weekend," she explains, "over at the civic center. They rented it out for the whole weekend, specifically to do all the animes and the role-playing and the dungeons and the dragons and whatnot. You'll find a whole bunch of people like you. You know. Dorks."

"Ah! Splendid!" I exclaim, finally hearing some good news. "Perhaps I will find allies and friends among the Dorks! Especially if they know the secrets of taming dragons! This is most excellent!"

"....uh-huh. Now is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Oh! Perhaps, if you know where the Dorks congregate, I could--"

"NEXT!"

The Receptionist, guardian and attendant of the powerful May-Or, has closed off my chances of securing a formal alliance with the government of Jump City, at least for the time being. But I will not despair, for the flames of Starfire must burn ever-bright with hope.

And to find aid in the battles to come, I will first find my allies among the Dorks....

---

"I don't get it."

"Of course you don't get it, big guy. That's why I do all the getting for us."

"Why did Doctor Jones just let the fat kid go? Does he really think he's going to find them out there?"

"Oh, he knows the fat kid is going to find them. He can't help it."

"But the city's huge! And that kid was dumb as a bag of rocks!"

"Doesn't matter. All our greasy chubby little friend needs to find them is a little luck."

"Pffffft, he'd need the kind of luck that could........oh. Right. Now I get it."

"Again, Mammoth. That's why I do all the getting for us."

---

"That's twice this month, Polinsky. If you're late again, you're fired."

"Y-y-yes sir, Mister Wolfman! I-i-it won't happen again!" Alex Polinski sputtered as he cowered behind the cash register at the Unnatural Twenty Comics and Hobby Shop.

His mom had convinced the store owner to give him a part-time job since he spent so much time at the store anyway, and for a while it seemed like a dream job. But that dream was quickly becoming a nightmare. Having to punch in and out of a time-clock every shift, having to keep a 'positive attitude' when dealing with jerk-ass loser customers with their stupid questions about normie games, not being allowed to play his favorite post-industrial-thrash-core tunes over the store's sound system, having to put up with whiny kids and their lame parents on Pokémon Tournament Nights.....even getting a store discount on merchandise wasn't worth having to deal with all of this work.

Still, it was this or going back to Big Boy Burgers, and he wasn't sure they would take him back after they caught him sleeping in the meat cooler. Two write-ups for lateness in one month, such BS. If only he could remember what happened last night.....why he slept in so late this morning......and why every time he tried to think back about it, he suddenly wanted to scream.

Alex let out a groan, his day already going badly, before clocking in for his shift. Time to head to the back room and start sorting out the new issues of--

"Excuse me," came a voice as the front door opened. "Would you happen to be a Dork?"

Alex Polinski dropped his bag of Funyuns, as the most beautiful girl he had ever seen walked into the shop.

"Uhhhh, I'm a--.....I mean, hi, my name's-.....whu-....hold on...."

"I am looking for someone to teach me in the ways of the Ani-May....."

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

Morning comes, and I slowly feel myself fading from the world of dreams to the world of the waking. It's a gradual thing, for once. No night terrors, no starting awake with a sharp cry and a cold sweat. After hours of blissful tranquility, I'm actually ready to welcome the day.

Slowly, my senses drift from the joyful peace of my dream, to sensations of warmth and softness. "Mmmmmmm," I let out a gentle sigh, as I still feel safe and content in the embrace of.....

.....the embrace? What the hell is embracing me?!

"WHAT?!?!" I launch myself out of bed, black tendrils of arcane energy swirling around me as I jolt awake. Lying in bed next to where I was sleeping is the orange-skinned space-girl, the one I could have sworn was all in my imagination.

She wakes with a gasp and darts into the air, her hands glowing with green plasma.

"What has happened?" she asks as she flits about the room. "Are we under attack? Have the 'ass-holes' returned?"

I stare at her, incredulous at the sheer absurdity of it all.

"What," I demand, "were you doing in my bed?!"

Princess Kory looks at me with confusion, then lets the green fire leave her hands. "My apologies if I have startled you. It was not my intention. After you had begun to use the sleep, I saw that you were having a bad dream, so I thought it best to soothe you with an application of the snuggles."

She floats down and finally lets her feet touch the floor. "I again apologize if I have troubled you."

"No, I just," I trail off, taking a few deep breaths to take everything in. "Okay. So. Last night, I was pretty convinced that this whole thing was just some kind of stupid hallucination. This morning, you're still here. So either A) you're real, or B) I've gone completely insane. Either way, I guess you're sticking around, and I just....need to get my head around....around the HIVE guys, around you, around all of it."

"....but your head does not appear to be large enough or malleable enough to envelop me, let alone--"

"It's a figure of speech," I wave it off. "I just mean we need to figure out what we're going to do."

I thought when I'd escaped from Sebastian Blood and his cultists in LA, that they would be the only people I would ever have to run from. Now, though, there are these HIVE goons, who somehow found out about my 'gifts' and want to make me disappear. Maybe they want to brainwash me into some super-soldier for them, maybe they want to cut me open and find out what makes me tick. Whatever they want, I'm sure a flying alien is only going to bring more attention.

Part of me wants to tell this 'Princess Starfire' girl that she's on her own-- I don't need the extra danger that having her around brings. I could just pack up, hit the road again, go off the grid for a while, and start over in another city, preferably somewhere a little less likely to have spaceships crash in front of me.

But HIVE would still be out there. Sebastian Blood would still be out there. And this girl clearly has no idea how to get by on this planet. She wouldn't make it to the end of the week before they had her locked up or laid out on a dissection table.

A more cynical person might say "better her than me." And maybe I am too cynical myself. But I can't leave someone to the same fate that those people have in mind for me.

I let out another sigh, this one of exasperation and resignation. I feel like I'm going to be doing that a lot.

"Okay," I say, "until further notice, we're in this together. So first I'm going to make some breakfast. Then we're going to start looking into these HIVE people, and see if there's any way we can take them down, or at the very least get them to leave us alone."

"Oh, thank you, friend Rachel!" Starfire exclaims, lifting off the air to scoop me up into a flying hug. "With the bonds of our friendship sealed, we will surely triumph over any 'ass-holes' who--"

"And then" I say, struggling to pry myself free, "we are going to have a talk about respecting people's personal space."

---

"Let's start from the top, shall we? Starting with your name."

".....uhhh.....Alex. Alex Rol Polinsky...."

"And how old are you, Mister Polinsky?"

"......s-s-sixteen. L-look, there's p-people who are gonna be l-looking for me, okay? Y-you c-c-c-can't just--"

"I'm afraid we can, Mister Polinsky. But thankfully, that won't be necessary if you continue to cooperate. Now, explain to me what you saw at the concert last night."

"Just....y'know, just s-s-s-stuff....then all the l-lights went out, a-and--"

"Before the blackout. You spoke to someone, yes?"

"Y-yeah? It was a...a girl. I t-think she was m-my age. Dressed all g-goth like. I t-tried to talk to her, and she y-yelled at me and--"

"Did you manage to get the young woman's name, Alex?"

"It w-was....oh man, what was it? Reagan? Raelyn? It s-s-started with an R, I know that--"

"Hmm, disappointing that you can't recall it off the top of your head, but no worries. I have ways of jogging your memory."

"W-wait, no, p-p-please, I'm just-"

"Later, Alex. For now, what happened when you spoke to the young woman?"

"I j-j-just started t-talking to her about s-stuff. I got n-nervous, so I t-talked about stuff I know about. G-g-games and stuff. And she just, like.....freaked out, like she was h-hearing voices or something."

"Interesting. What happened next?"

"She r-ran into the bathroom, then all the l-l-lights went out. It was, like, I dunno.....like....m-m-magic or something."

"Oooooooh, did you say magic?"

"Because I loooove magic...."

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

Three more days, Andy. Three more days.

@Retired

I have been told that MB will actually kill me if I switch off of Raven and Starfire. But I may pester him about allowing second characters. Of course, that's assuming Wraith doesn't beat the deadline again.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

"...haa....it wasn't easy, you know...." she tells me, her head lolling from one side to another in a state of drug-addled delirium. "Ingredients hard to come by....heee, ohhh....especially here. But I did it, Rachel. My little black bird, my, aahh, my Raven. I did it. I, ah.......I've got it all in place. Almost....almost done."

Arella Roth, age 34. Admitted to the East Los Angeles Mental Health Center two years ago for displaying acute symptoms of schizophrenia. She had been a member since age fifteen of the Children of Azarath, a new-age religion (the board is too polite to call them a cult) that believes in bizarre mixtures of occult practices, with the intent of contacting and eventually ascending to a higher plane of reality. A true believer in the Azar and their otherworldly teachings, Arella began taking psychedelic drugs and participating in elaborate rituals-- many of which were explicitly sexual in nature-- at age sixteen. At age seventeen, she began a brief but passionate romance with another member of the Children of Azarath, a wealthy and powerful man named Sebastian Blood.

At age eighteen, she had me.

"What did you do this time, Mom?" I ask through the phone on the other side of the plexiglass. "Align the vibrational frequencies of the equatorial ley-lines to make sure I had a happy birthday? Because I didn't. Or did you project with your third-eye into the dimensional weave to send me positive thoughts again? Because I haven't had any of those in--"

Mom begins to laugh, barely more of a laugh than a cry, and I hate myself for saying those things as soon as I say them. Her mental health had been on a slow decline for as long as I can remember-- sudden bouts of depression or anxiety attacks, night terrors so bad her screaming would keep me awake in the other room. Then she started seeing things, "shadow men with six eyes," following us around. It was frightening, then it was dangerous. And now, it's just sad.

"I, aaaah, I asked the Azar," she starts to say, a vacant smile on her face, "I....I asked them to.....to send you an angel. Someone to protect my sweet little black-bird from......well......."

The Children of Azarath weren't any help with my Mom's condition. They first tried their own remedies, lots of crystals and incense and so much mystical bullshit when all she really needed was a doctor and some rest. By the time they sought actual psychiatrists, the damage was done, and all Mom could ever think of was more magical solutions to the problems. More magic, more crazy. More crazy, more magic. Over and over, further down the slippery slope until it became a cliff, and she wound up all the way down here at the bottom.

"Mom, I've read the same books you have," I tell her. "The Journals of Coman, the Great Door, all of it. And the Azar don't have 'angels.'"

"Oh, I know," she nods, "but they can find someone who does and get one from them. But she'll come soon, and you'll never have to face it alone, my little Raven."

"Don't call me that," I all but spit. "and face what?"

Mom turns her head away. "The darkness, Rachel. You'll never have to face it alone, like.......like....."

She begins to sob, and I feel that burning ember of resentment again. The Children of Azarath, their stupid empty mysticism, their drugs and emotional manipulation, they did this to her. It isn't fair. Not to her. And not to me.

"Oh! I nearly forgot!" she suddenly says, the surprise shaking her body. "The, aah, the thing I've been working on for you. It's, ah, it's nearly done, black-bird. I, ah, I'm nearly ready. For the ritual, you see."

"What? No, please, Mom," I hear myself begging, "No more rituals, no more spells, no more sigils or scrolls or crystal matrices or Tarot decks or any of it! It's ruined your life, it's made you....sick. Just rest for a while, and take your meds, and--"

"Rachel," she stops me, "I know I'm not....well. I know I haven't been....been what I should have been for you. But this is the only way I know. I can give you something to protect you. Something to give you the strength you'll need. Something you can use to fight him! Please, just....let me give you that. It's......it's all I can do. And....and I promise, no more spells or magic or foolishness after. This is the last one."

".....the last one?" I ask. "Mom.....you're not going to....to hurt yourself, are you?"

She starts to shake her head.

"I....I never wanted to hurt anyone," she says, before she begins sobbing again. "I n-never.....never wanted t-t-to....."

"Mom? MOM?" I start to say, as a pair of orderlies approach to take her back to her room.

She stands, and the orderlies suddenly release her.

"Rachel?"

She looks at me like someone who has woken up from a long and frightful dream. Like someone who's been lost in a fog who can finally see clearly.

This doesn't happen. I know what happens.

The orderlies take her back to her room, where she has somehow snuck in a shard of broken glass. She completes her ritual that night. I never see her again.

Instead, she's looking me in the eye, the thoughtful, caring, powerful, and completely sane mother I never had.

"I'm so sorry, Rachel," she says. "I never meant for any of this. But you need protection. You need strength. You need power and weapons for what is coming. And in my state, I only knew of one way I could provide them to you."

The grimy tile floor, the plain white plaster walls, the awful fluorescent lighting, all fades away. Everything except for the plexiglass sheet separating me from her, now stretching out as far as I can see.

"....what? Mom, no, this is--....you're not---.....what's happening?"

"I could not resist him," Arella Roth says, her voice heavy with shame, "And now you must face him. But I promise you, you will not face him alone."

A black wind whips around us, wisps of smoke and shadow becoming arms and tendrils of darkness that whirl and grab and claw at me.

"Mom?! Wait, no, what's--"

"You will not face him alone, my Raven," she repeats, her voice drowning out in the deafening black wind. "Remember the keys to open the Great Door. The three sigil words to unleash the Soul....."

The grasping, groping, choking tendrils of darkness are suddenly chains.

I am no longer floating in the void, but chained to a table in a basement somewhere in Hollywood.

My mother is gone. In her place is the man I had been told was my father.

"Your brood-mare of a mother is just as wrong now as she was then," he laughs, throwing back his head, which in turn opens up the blood red cloak to reveal his body covered in runes, sigils carved into his naked flesh. "I was merely a vessel. Your father.....your true father.....wields power far beyond your comprehension. Power which he has promised me, in return for opening the door to this paltry world."

"HAIL THE DESTROYER!" a chant erupts from the rows of hooded figures behind him. "HAIL THE DEFILER! HAIL THE DESPOILER! HAIL THE DOMINATOR! HAIL TRIGON!"

"You, my dear," Sebastian says, letting his robe fall to the ground as I struggle against my chains, "Are born of two worlds, and in so being your flesh and spirit form the bridge between both. Tonight, I claim both of them as my own, and will use you to bring my master's reign on Earth!"

"HAIL THE DESTROYER! HAIL THE DEFILER! HAIL THE DESPOILER! HAIL THE DOMINATOR! HAIL TRIGON!"

"Don't squirm, girl," he says as he approaches, a dagger in one hand, his weapon of a completely different kind in the other. "Before this is over, I promise you'll learn to enjoy it."

An explosion. Green fire blasts Sebastian apart, reduces the hooded figures to mist.

This doesn't happen. I know what happens-- or I think I do. Black shadows erupt from my body, tossing Sebastian and his followers aside and allowing me to escape. That's what really happens.

Instead, they are obliterated by bolts of brilliant green light, and the darkness that envelopes me isn't a cruel, cold void.

It's....everything. It's a sea of possibilities, unknowable depths holding secrets and wonders.

In that infinite black, points of light emerge. Stars, nebulae, whole galaxies begin to glitter and play.

The darkness that surrounds me, that is me, it's.... it's the space between limitless wonders, that holds them and keeps them afloat. Just as the brightness of these lights puts the darkness into sharp relief, so does the darkness make the light seem that much brighter.

It's.....it's the most beautiful thing I've ever dreamed.

Distantly, I hear a voice in the glittering dark, an echo from somewhere I can't sense.

_{"You need not fear, Friend Rachel. The flames of Starfire burn bright. And no shadow shall ever smother them out."}

I feel warmth, and comfort, not just surrounding me, but embracing me, and I allow myself to drift, at play in infinity.

I have the best sleep of my entire life.

DC Universe: Genesis - Justice For All

"I am confused," I say, pausing in my action. "How am I supposed to place my garments of battle regalia in the machine of washing, if you do not want me to remove them first?"

My new friend the native girl Rachel, her hands still shielding her eyes, shakes her head. When the other natives-- the "ass-holes," Rachel calls them-- attacked us upon my arrival, they used a powerful explosive weapon in their attempt to incapacitate me. This weapon, which Rachel has identified for me as a "fucking bazooka" (although I do not see how the act of physical love applies to such a device), left my regalia-- as well as much of my body-- covered in soot and char.

Upon sneaking me back to her domicile, Rachel offered me the use of her facilities to cleanse myself and my garments, but as soon as I began to remove them, she demanded that I stop.

"Is this some form of riddle known to your people?" I ask.

"I just--...I meant give me some time to, I dunno, look away or leave the room before getting undressed," she says, sputtering her words with what sounds to be frustration or embarrassment. "Just stripping down in front of someone, especially someone you just met, it's.....it's weird, okay?"

".....if you say so," I say, though this explanation raises more questions than answers. "I will wait until you have averted your eyes to begin the clothing removal."

"I'll get you a change of clothes while you clean yourself off," Rachel nods and points to a small chamber on the far end of her small living quarters. "The shower's in there. The right knob is for cold water, the left knob's hot water. The faucet's a little tricky; you've got to kind of jiggle the handle a few times to--"

"I am unused to such a device," I say as I look into the room, seeing a stall with a hanging curtain closing it off, and a few metallic protuberances sticking out from the wall. "Perhaps if you could demonstrate, I will watch and--"

"Absolutely not," the native girl interjects.

"I see," I say with disappointment, before another thought comes to mind. "Friend Rachel......am I.....ugly?"

She stops and turns, giving me a quizzical look. "What?"

"You act with revulsion when I offer you gestures of affection," I explain, "And the sight of my body or the thought of me seeing yours seems to cause you a great deal of distress. By your people's standards, would I be considered ugly, then?"

Rachel pauses, chewing at the inside of one cheek as she considers the wording of her response, before answering.

"There are people on this planet," she begins, "whose entire life revolves around looking pretty. It's literally their entire career, just standing there in pretty clothes for people to take pictures of them and make everyone else feel bad about how much prettier than them they are. There are giant industries that pump billions of dollars into making outfits for them, getting their hair and makeup just right, finding the perfect diets and workouts for them, surgically enhancing their bodies and digitally enhancing their pictures, a monstrous international corporate machine which operates for the sole singular purpose of making these people look as pretty as possible. And you -- and I'm saying this purely from an aesthetic point of view-- by comparison, make those people look like diseased sewer mutants."

While her method of speech is strange to me, I get the general intent of her statement.

"So then," I say, my eyes welling up, "I am so ugly, that my very presence contaminates the beauties of your world and makes them ugly as well?"

"That's not what I said," she says, "I'm saying you're---....*sigh*.....forget it, just forget I said anything, okay?"

I nod, but I do not know if it is within my capabilities to intentionally forget something. Perhaps this is one of those riddles her people seem to engage in, like wanting me to place my garments in the machine of washing without removing them first. I do wish that I had a stronger grasp of her communication, but I was only able to share a psychic meld for a moment. While a connection of lips provides sufficient contact between concentrated nerve endings, it is not the most effective possible connection. However, while there are areas of the Tamaranian body that contain far more nerve endings, and the native people's anatomy seems near identical, I doubt she would be receptive to the suggestion.

"I....apologize for my inexperience with this planet and its customs" I say, before bowing my head. "If I have brought you shame, name my punishment and I will atone for it."

Rachel shakes her head again. "I don't want to 'punish' you for--.....look, just try to figure out the shower the best you can, and I'll get you some spare clothes and start making some tea or something. It'll help relax."

"But I am not in need of a relaxant."

"That's for me," she says, stalking off to the cooking area of her living quarters while muttering under her breath, _{"...have enough to worry about, going to develop a complex on top of all this...."}

It seems I cannot do anything right.

I step into the room of washing, and after closing the door so that Rachel is not offended by the sight of me, I disrobe, and begin to analyze the workings of this 'shower' device. Perhaps I can at least clean myself correctly.

---

"Look out there, D'orion," Queen Komand'r, the Blackfire, Scourge of Tamaran and Crusher of the Weak, said to her manservant as she gestured from atop the gaudy throne she had made from the old statue of the goddess X'haal. "Look out there, and tell me what you see."

Her grand throne room opened up to a balcony which overlooked the once beautiful city of Tamarus, now a smoldering ruin. The Citadel had been particularly enthusiastic in their sacking of Tamaran's capital, gutting the gleaming towers of their treasures, slaughtering anyone who tried to fight back, and having their way with anyone who did not. Few had been left alive, so much of the slave labor now being used to rebuild the city-- and in particular the royal palace-- to Komand'r's liking, had to be imported from other conquered cities. Of course, the Citadel could merely deploy drones to complete the reconstruction more quickly and efficiently, but the use of Tamaranian slaves was to send a message.

"...I...I see...." D'orion, a jagged scar across his magnificent bare chest, considered his words carefully. "I see a city transforming. Transitioning from a weak old regime to a strong new one. I see the tired old ways being swept away for a glorious new era."

Queen Blackfire grinned at her manservant. Pure, placating drivel. She knew he did not believe a word of what he said. She could see it in his eyes; he hated her with every atom of himself. He wanted, more than anything, to lunge at her and bite out her throat, gouge out her eyes, find the nearest heavy object and bash in her skull. But she also knew that if he ever attempted such a thing, his children would be flayed in front of him, and so he remained her faithful, obedient pet.

Idly, she activated the electrodes on his collar, and D'orion toppled down the side of her throne, convulsing in agony on the floor. It was delicious.

"Pull yourself up, D'orion," she ordered, "And let me tell you what I see. I see a million Tamaranians, like you, who believe the fighting is not yet over. Who believe in ridiculous lies about a savior, a champion or a hero who will spark rebellion and overthrow me."

As D'orion struggled to his feet, crawling at the foot of her throne, Komand'r gave him a mocking smile.

"Do you believe in heroes, D'orion?" she asked, the sweetness in her voice a thin film over the venom in her thoughts. "Do you believe the Omega Men are still out there, waiting to strike against me? Or perhaps you believe the silly old legends about X'haal returning in Tamaran's darkest hour?"

With a surprising speed, she went from idly lounging to pouncing down on her servant like a jungle predator, pinning his body flat on his back.

"Or do you believe," she snarled, "That my miserable, honorless sister will come back and save you?"

D'orion avoided her eyes, but she knew the answer. He was one of her father's honor guard, and had been first to swear loyalty to Koriand'r when she assumed the role of Starfire. He would die before he ever gave up hope that the 'rightful' ruler of Tamaran would return to set things right.

"As long as my sister lives," she said, straddling the servant, "people like you will resist me, will hold out hope, will hate and curse and fight me. But only people like you, D'orion. Not you yourself. No, you will hate me still, but you will love me all the more because of it."

With a hungry growl, Komand'r's hands explored her servant, and she smiled at how much it humiliated him. He glared at her, eyes full of defiance and indignity as she degraded and debased him, and she reveled in it.

All of her life, the people of Tamaran had hated her, heaping all of their love and affection upon her sister instead. Now, Koriand'r was long gone, and she had them all to herself. Free to inflict the humiliation and shame upon them that she had felt since the day she was cursed enough to be born.

She loved how much she hated them.

And in time, they would hate how much they loved her.

Still, as she indulged herself, she knew her victory was a hollow one. Only once her sister was well and truly disposed of would her reign be absolute. As long as Koriand'r drew breath, or at least as long as the people of Tamaran thought she did, they would never fully be hers to torment.

The flames of the Starfire burn ever bright, their father would say. Blackfire, then, would be the shadow to finally smother it out.

---

Some time has passed since I determined the workings of the shower device and the machine of washing. The cup of boiled leaves that Rachel had prepared for me has grown cold, and the starchy edible shapes she calls 'cookies' sit half-eaten beside it. Rachel has gone to sleep, and I sit atop the roof of her building, staring out at a strange city, on a strange world, under strange stars.

This is not at all how I expected my first contact with the people of another planet. I had assumed I would be leading a diplomatic mission, forging some powerful new alliance for the glory of Tamaran. I would be at the head of an emissary fleet, the occasion marked with feasts and festivals and explorations of exotic delights. Perhaps I would find wondrous works of art and beauty to enhance our own culture, or work with their scientists to achieve some revolutionary breakthrough, or meet a gallant and honorable male to join my host of prince-consorts.

Instead, I come as a refugee, fleeing my own world in disgrace and defeat. Instead of a palace, the place in which I stay is little more than a hovel. Instead of melding the cultures of two mighty and beautiful worlds in glorious harmony, I seem to create only dissonance and stress. Instead of a muscular and heroic prince or knight-general to woo me, I am intruding into the personal life of an impoverished witch-girl who finds me revolting yet offers me protection like a stray animal.

Countless light years away, my people suffer. My sister, under the rule of the Citadel, is tormenting the living and defiling the remains of the dead. And there is nothing I can do to stop her.

I am close to giving in to despair.

"Oh X'haal," I call to the great Fire Goddess, "what am I to do? If you are truly there, I ask only for a sign so that I--"

CAWWW! C-A-W-W-W!!!!

A black, feathered animal appears from out of the night sky, its claws tangling in my hair as it beats its wings against the sides of my head.

"Away! Release me!" I shout, swatting at it with one hand as I charge a star-bolt in the other. However, after the confusion of a few seconds, it untangles itself from my hair and flutters down to the rooftop, where it snatches up one of the uneaten cookies. After realizing it was not an enemy, merely a creature looking for a sweet, I giggle, and let the black winged creature have the rest of them. I did not wish to say it to Rachel, but in truth I found them revolting myself.

My musing interrupted, I float back down through the window to the small loft, and prepare to sleep upon the futon which Rachel had prepared for me, when I hear a sobbing from her bed.

"Friend Rachel?" I whisper as I approach, "Are you all of the right?"

I look at my sleeping hostess, and see that she is tightly curled into a fetal position, trembling, her breath coming in gasps and sobs.

_{"....n-no....don't.....I'm n-not.....s-s-stop....."} she says in her sleep, her eyes wet with tears.

When I had established the psychic meld upon meeting her, I briefly saw her mind as we kissed. She had constructed thick, hard walls around herself, barriers to keep others out of her mind. Even so, I could feel the suffering behind those walls. Her dreams are painful ones, full of fear and sorrow.

She is an innocent, who is in need of help.

I may be defeated, disgraced, and hiding away in exile, but I am still Starfire, Light of Hope and Champion of the Innocent. If I cannot help my people at this moment, I can at the very least help her.

I lie down beside my new friend, and placing a hand on her shoulder, I send her thoughts of peace, of calm, and of loving warmth.

"You need not fear, Friend Rachel, I whisper my assurance. "The flames of Starfire burn bright. And no shadow shall ever smother them out."