Blizz

Titans of Gotham

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Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

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Jack Hawthorne

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Location: Limbo
Skills: N/A
Spells: Darkvision
Outfit

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Jack wiped the blood away with the edge of his copy of the cloak, and blinked away the blackness in his eyes. They looked normal now, unlike the devilish girl across from him.

"My name is Jack Hawthorne. I knew Stephen before his apparent death, and I also don't know why he'd send us here." Looking between these two before him, one of them seemed like she fit right in, and the other looked ready to kill someone. Entirely understandable, honestly. Jack elected not to comment on her horns and claws, thinking it would be rude. His slightly blood-tinged expression showed no signs of being surprised by it, either. He then spoke to both of them at once. "Strange has apparently sent us all here because his seat as our Earth's sorcerer supreme is now empty, and believes one or perhaps all of us deserve to take his place. It's unlike him, you'd think a man of his power would have something more coherent in place for this sort of thing, but here we are." He pulled the note in question out and gestures to it in case they didn’t get one. This was the first implication that Jack wasn’t entirely normal himself, as the hand he held it with was pitch black, without the slightest trace of a visible surface. It was made of solidified darkness, and looked almost like an illusion.

Looking at the tower in the distance, Jack had a suspicion they were meant to find it. Or it was meant to find them. ”That sounds like a wise decision. But we shouldn’t stray too far from one another. Limbo has a way of haunting people who get lost.” The Devil woman likely knew this, but the other one? Who could say? Not many people knew about Limbo, and fewer had been there.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

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In the midst of Shirik’s esoteric cooking ritual, Zeynap found them while they were crushing a now fully seared Soreltail fin into a crumbly powder- Shirik’s equivalent to black pepper.

”The lake is always teeming with most things one can catch. Bring anyone willing to eat what they’ve never eaten before. Come and join us. Those-“ They pointed to the slices smoking over a fire pit. ”Will last for months without spoiling once they are ready. You mentioned you had a problem with your food. There are ways to preserve things without them tasting like humid mud.”

As they sprinkled bits of the powdered fin over the smoking meat, Shirik pulled one of the many precisely cut chunks of now perfectly cooked fish meat off of a spike. They placed it on a large leaf, a handful of which that Shirik gathered once the fire started. This was the closest thing to a plate they could manage, and so they rested the portion on it and handed it gently to the captain. It was roughly the size of a decent steak that one might eat back on earth.

”Eat. There is plenty for everyone. You, Ixtaro. and whoever else is hungry.”

The cooked fish had a taste like red meat. It was smooth like the texture of most fish, but it was much more smokey as well, and had a sweet, earthy kick to it thanks to the sap that Shirik used. It had just the right amount of three different tastes that non single one was too strong. A flawlessly cooked meal, prepared through mastery of the Heat domain.

Shirik looked over and saw that Kareet and Vigdis were still doing their thing. As much as Shirik understood the curiosity, even tireless, nocturnal scholars had to eat at some point. Shirik took two more pieces meat from the flames and wrapped them in a large leaf from a tree, grabbed their staff and approached them both.

”Forgive me for intruding.” Shirik said as they sat down next to the two. ”You two seem busy, and I wouldn’t want you to forget to eat in spite of that.” Shirik laid the bundle down in front of them both and unfurled it to reveal the delicious, outdoors dinner.

”I take it you two have been productive.”

Avengers Academy 💥

Leah Jordan

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Location: Framework
Skills: Punching things and throwing rocks
Today’s Fit

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This was starting to give her a headache. It didn't surprise Leah at all that the Young Avengers were all nepo babies. You don't get a name like "Young Avengers" if you're not connected or even related to the Real Fucking Avengers. Granted, she was dating someone who was more or less a SHIELD baby, but that was a but of a step down from literal superheroes. At the end of the day, Leah wasn't all too concerned with it. She didn't plan to actually overthrow anyone. If she was a full blown superhero by the end of next year, then she'd be a superhero. If not? Well, it's just a good thing this internal dialogue of hers stayed internal.

Usagi wanted them to fight in a battle royale. Wasn't that the shitty genre of games all the 9th grade kids played ten years ago? Leah wasn't exactly a pro gamer, but she had a feeling this just meant they'd all be thrown into an arena and forced to fight for Usagi's amusement. She'd be very surprised if it was something else. She checked her phone again... What world did they speak that language on? April was secretly an alien or something, Leah was beginning to suspect.

@April, @Sabine

Earthbender: gonna pretend i know wtf that means. getting injected into the internet in five. ill bring back an emoji or something

She then stood up and went to grab a suit. These things were ugly as shit, and always made Leah feel awkward because of how tight they were. Sabine might've enjoyed seeing that, and maybe April too. Oh well. She left her shit in a stall and then climbed into one of the tanks. The real world fell away, and she was now in the digital world of heroric bullshittery.

Inferno - STRIKE THE MATCH! - Concluded

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Jack Hawthorne

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Location: Limbo
Skills: N/A
Spells: Darkvision
Outfit

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Stephen Strange's death meant that Earth 666 was put on a shelf life- It would no longer be Earth 666 if that wasn't fixed. Jack understood this much, it was a Sorcerer Supreme's job to keep that from happening. What he didn't understand was why Stephen didn't have a contingency in plan that didn't have room for this kind of thing. Now the entirety of a universe had to wait with its proverbial driver seat unattended, for what could be seconds or even eons. He could've had anything in place, a Shiar golem imbued with the power necessary, sorcerers trained in maintaining the spells... Anything. That's what Jack would have done. It seemed that was what he would be doing in the near future, in fact.

Jack strolled down a rocky path, in no clear hurry to get out of this hell. Hands in his pockets, and the alien wine in the cloak's, he carried himself forward like this was just another day in the park. For a chronic world hopper like him, it was just that. This world didn't bother Jack. It stung, being present in it, but one learned to tolerate it the way one learned to tolerate ghost peppers in their food. Jack wasn't a fan of ghost peppers, in fact, they made him lose his appetite. But the principle of it was the same. Breathe in, let the lungs remember the sting of the wind, breathe out, and accept that this is the air.

He saw the mist in the distance, and didn't falter. Rather, Jack stepped in, knowing he had to keep walking forward. It stung his eyes and felt coarse against his face, but he accepted this. Jack closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they felt… Warm. The last time he was here, his eyes weren’t bleeding. He hadn’t encountered this mist then, so he shut his eyes and had an idea. Jack touched his fingers to his forehead, and opened his senses outward. Light was taken out of the equation of vision. Alas, it worked, but he could only see his own eyelids. Worth a shot, at least.

He opened his eyes, which were now a pair of onyx-black orbs for the next few minutes, and exited the mist. Red blood mixed a strange murky black substance like oil in response to his spell. It made the blood he wiped away look like it had poison in it. In the distance, he saw two figures. From the look of it, he could barely make out the Cloak of Levitation… On both of their shoulders. Odd.

He approached them, wearing the same cloak and magic eye.

”You both have the cloak as well. You must’ve been sent here by Stephen Strange ad well, I take it.”

They looked human. More so than he did with magic altering his eyes currently. Hopefully they wouldn’t be bothered by it, but this was Limbo. Everything was intimidating in Limbo.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

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That night lightning quaked sourceless to the west beyond midnight thunderheads, but never quite reached the Jotunheim. Itxaro watched it as it crept ever closer in the darkness like some malevolent spirit dragging itself towards the living, only to break and dissipate as fast as it formed. The sky cleared, and Itxaro watched as an endless river of stars went past, each one foreign and brilliant and new to her eyes.

She slept fitfully after that, her leg like an evil visitant in the bed with her, itching as torn flesh healed. No more painkillers. Doctor's orders. Itxaro had enough to occupy her mind after the strange day so it bothered her little.

The sun rose over jagged, snow-peaked mountaintops to the east, though Itxaro was up well before it. After yesterday's madness, Shirik had made her an offer too good to pass up - a naturalist tour of sorts. Itxaro had never been hunting or fishing in her life, but time spent learning the local flora and fauna would be better than staring at an FTL engine that wouldn't function until the more practical-minded engineers were able to restore power. The two agreed to meet by the nearby lake downhill from the Jotunheim which she had only seen from a distance, and was eager to see up close.

Itxaro gathered what she figured might be useful and packed it all into her sea bag. A cargo net, some duct tape, an MRE, and a crudely welded “fishing pole” consisting of an aluminum pipe with a few rings welded on and a spool of plastic wire, along with some even more rudimentary metal fishing hooks. She doused the sea bag in her homemade borax concoction, hoping it would prevent the canvas bag from igniting on her back. Booted, pistoled, shotgun slung across her shoulder, and feeling like some kind of itinerant vagrant, she let Chief Zhao know her plans before making her into the wider world.

Once out of sight from the Jotunheim, Itxaro unpinned her white hair, letting it tumble down savage and unkempt, and wriggled her arms free of the grey jumpsuit's sleeves, tying them at the waist, before throwing on a crumpled ball cap embroidered with the Jotunheim's logo. The simple change made her feel more herself, as if she was going on a camping trip instead of stranded on an alien world. Itxaro smiled to herself before pressing on through the trees, watching as strange birds flushed from each branch at her passing.

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Shirik didn’t sleep like most. For weeks or even months at a time, they didn’t sleep at all. All throughout the night, they gathered sticks and tall blades of grass to fabricate fishing tools. When the morning came, they were by the lake which was fed from rivers that ran through the entire countryside. The fish that swam through were native species all the way from Mythadia. It was the perfect place to catch something.

By the time Ixtaro came down to meet them, there was already a thick, grassy line in the colder water. On the ground next to Shirik was a large net made of woven grass spread out to wrap a fish up once caught. Shirik’s cloak was propped up with branches like a small tent, and they sat cross-legged on the shore. Silent and unmoving like a statue.

And entirely aware of Ixtaro approaching from behind. ”There you are.”

"Here I am," Itxaro confirmed as she strode past the dwarf evergreens nearest the lakeshore where rich soil transitioned into loose sand. "Didn't think I'd miss this, did ya?" Itxaro asked rhetorically, sweeping the landscape with a free hand. The glacial lake was surrounded by tall pines, or what passed for pines on this planet, and the shore was studded with polished rocks intermingled with soft dark sand. On the far shore, a herd of bison-like creatures with what looked like green grass growing on their backs waded into the turquoise water and drank deeply. Birds the color of slate with trailing plumage circled the area, and occasionally one would dive into the mirrored surface of the water below and emerge with some aquatic creature trapped in their long beak. It was all beautiful, unlike anything she'd seen back on Earth, even in old footage before the ecosystem started to crumble.

Itxaro turned her attention from the scenery to Shirik's fishing implements; similar to her own improvised equipment, but more... Crunchy. She emptied the contents of her bag onto the sand before taking a seat next to Shirik. "I'll be real with you Shirik, I haven't been fishing since I was a kid, so any pointers would be much appreciated. What's today's catch?" Itxaro asked as she fumbled with her own rod and line.

”That depends entirely on what takes the bait. Nakaresk, Greenjaws, Soreltails, or more could be swimming through here. Water from this lake runs through rivers all the way from Mythadia and the mountains to the north. You could catch anything here.” Shrink was in another one of those mellowed out moods, apparently. Who would’ve guessed the tree knew a thing or two about nature?

There was barely a sound on the lake beyond the distant din of work happening from the Jotunheim. ”I have no need for food, but there are few things that mend rifts quite as well as something cooked to perfection and shared among the people.”

Itxaro clumsily threaded her line through the rod’s rings and looked it over with dismay. Graduated from the best engineering program in the USASR and you can’t even make a primitive tool. Nice. She shrugged, figuring it would have to do, before attempting to tie on a hook as she spoke. “Naksek and Soretails, right. Think they’d like beef stew? No one on the Jotunheim does.” she tilted her chin to the emergency ration on the rocks nearby, which was labeled SAVORY BEEF CHUNKS WITH POTATOES AND VEGETABLES. She’d had the meal only once, and that was one time too many.

No need for food. What the hell is going on with this planet? Itxaro racked her brain thinking of life on earth that didn’t require any form of sustenance at all and drew a blank. It seemed contrary to the laws of physics and what little she knew about biology. Then again, neither of those included magic in their calculations. She decided to leave the topic for another time.

“You sure that’s a rift you want to mend? Seemed like everyone was pretty happy being at eachother’s throats,” Itxaro said as she remembered yesterday’s shouting match. She was all for it, of course, but had a sneaking suspicion it would simply end up like last time. Or worse.

Itxaro opened up the MRE and quickly attached a piece of “beef”, or whatever it really was, onto her hook and resealed the package before the fetid smell of synthetic meat and barely-edible vegetables reached her nose. “Maybe Silbermine doesn’t have to know about this cookout?” She cast her line, nearly snagging herself with the hook in the process.

”You already know what Silbermine intends to do. I expect Zeynap finds both sides to have merit. She will do as she wishes, and you will inevitably follow her lead. Silbermine’s type is one I’ve watched tear this world apart for countless years. More so than most people alive today in this world. His knights follow him because they must. Without a lord to uplift them, they might starve or be cast out to the lowest of their people.”

Shirik idly watched Ixtaro with that contraption of hers. Was it metal like the rest of their strange objects? Curious.

”Nellara means well. I know this, because it is in her nature to be so. The place she is from is a night and day difference to Silbermine. Divine right and self-affirmation are things that cannot exist together. So, no. I don’t believe Silbermine must know. But that isn’t for me to say. The Ascendancy will value you all as partners in trade, and Silbermine values you as a political token. I stand to gain nothing from entertaining either of those, but you and Zeynap do. It is her decision to invite him. Not mine.”

Itxaro stretched her long limbs out before her, digging furrows into the sand with her bootheels before settling into a figure four with her sore leg sitting out straight. She scoffed at Shirik’s first comment. “Zey’s gonna do whatever she wants to, and most of the crew will follow, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna go along with it. C’mon.” Itxaro reeled her line in idly as she spoke, hoping the movement might draw in some strange fish.

“And what’s Silbermine’s type? Nobility? Or just someone with power? We’ve had both back home, and both types are assholes. What separates the Ascendancy from Mythadia, aside from how those in power get it?” Itxaro said, giving up on trying to tempt any fish and instead turned to face Shirik. “Doesn’t matter if you’re born into it, ordained by the Gods, or earn it, either way you’ll abuse it. Hurt those weaker than you. Exploit them for as long as you’re able.” She was dipping into Marxist rhetoric, just a touch, to see how receptive Shirik would be. Purely out of curiosity, of course.

She shrugged her broad shoulders and looked back to the lake and the distant mountains. “Between you and me, I think we can outplay Silbermine. That’s half the battle, right? Play his little game, take his money, then be done with it. But if the benevolent rulers of these nations don’t want to play politics, then fuck it, let them slaughter eachother out there,” Itxaro said, nodding her chin to the northern fields. She didn’t mean this. In fact, the thought of nameless soldiers killing each other for plunder horrified her. But Itxaro hoped it proved her point; they could resolve this without bloodshed if they just tried.

“Pretty novel idea, I’m sure it’s never been done before.” Itxaro thought she felt something tug at her line, but after excitedly reeling it in there was only the hook and bait. She sighed after casting it back out into the lake. “I thought you said there were fish here.”

After hearing everything Ixtaro just said, Shirik had to think of how to best explain the way things worked around here. ”I have watched both of their nations rise up from nothing. I am older than both the Ascendancy and Mythadia’s nobility, much older. This is how they’ve both been for centuries. They are both set in their ways, for better or for worse. I won’t pretend that siding with either is a flawless decision. Mythadia’s faith dictates how they rule, and those in the lowest rung of their society are forced to stay there for the sake of the nobleman’s power.”

Shirik noticed a ripple appear across the lake’s surface, but continued. ”In the Ascendancy, there is no help. You aren’t forced to stay in a caste like Mythadia, but no one will help you obtain anything. You work for everything you have, and the slightest lapse in success can mean your downfall. Merit, and merit alone is what they judge a person by, so much so that your family would be imprisoned for leaving behind an inheritance for you. In your situation, Ixtaro, they will only entertain your presence so long as you have something of material value for them. But they won’t lie about it.”

”If a fire destroys their homes, they are expected to either pay for their home to be rebuilt, or to build it again themselves. You are on your own in that nation.”

Another ripple. Closer this time.

”I care very little for that heartless nature of the Ascendancy, but Nellara’s presence is far less sickening than Silbermine’s. He’s a warlord. A conqueror, who only cares for himself. He wants to claim your skyward vessel because it will make him powerful beyond measure in the political sphere of Mythadia. Others would flock to his House and pledge their loyalty, their skills, and their weapons to him. I told you I was a soldier. I went to war against people like him.”

Itxaro turned Shirik’s words over and over in her head. Initially, she’d considered the Ascendancy the better choice, but now she wasn’t so sure. Their commitment to “meritocracy,” as they deemed it, seemed to border on insanity to her, like some sort of demented libertarianism. Every man an island. Any state that operated with this economic system, Itxaro figured, would have collapsed decades ago, but Shirik said the Ascendancy had been like this for a long time. But where does the wealth go? Capital is almost always accumulated in the family first and grows from there. What does the state do with the money, if they’re seizing the assets? Certainly not investing in the welfare of their citizens.

Feudalism, for all its woes, at least offered a system of support. Peasants supported eachother and their lord, while the lord offered some measure of protection and charity in return. Not perfect, and more exploitative than outright capitalism, Itxaro considered, but certainly less cruel than “every man for themselves.” She determined that there must be more to it than what Shirik was letting on. Itxaro reminded herself that she was on an alien world and her framework for social analysis might not apply.

Itxaro sat in silence for a few moments, returning to reality just in time to see ripple in the water near her improvised bobber. Her body tensed, but the ripple faded and she relaxed.

“Alright, so say you are us. What would you do in our situation? Join the Ascendency and go to war? ” Itxaro asked; it came off as sarcastic, but she meant it as an earnest question. She spread out her legs before bringing her knees up to her chest. She held the aluminum rod in her prosthetic hand while the other idly drew circles in the sand.

”I would side with neither of them. I’d find my own way to walk and see what the path leads to.”

The bobber dipped into the water for just a moment and reappeared on the surface but it went unnoticed. Only when the line drew taut and the spooled string began running did Itxaro realize she had a fish on the line. She also realized with a twinge of shame that she’d forgotten to include any method of reeling the line in when constructing her fishing rod; just rope on a stick.

Itxaro dug her feet into the loose sand and braced herself just as the line ran out, but whatever had taken the bait was larger than she’d anticipated. Much larger. In an instant Itxaro was pulled to her feet as she struggled with the rod. ”Uh, Shirik, how big are the fish in this lake?” She asked nervously.

”Very.”

The fish yanked aggressively in answer and flung Itxaro to the ground. She came up spitting sand from her mouth. Itxaro tried to let go of the rod’s crude handle, but her prosthetic had locked up in response to the slipping metal and wouldn’t budge. The fish rallied and pulled again, dragging her closer to the water’s edge. She frantically braced her free hand and feet as best one could when belly down. “Shirik - help!” She didn’t notice his own line growing taut.

Shirik resisted the Herculean urge to cackle. Looking back at their own line and then Ixtaro’s, Shirik flicked their fingers towards the water, and a small fireball the size of Ixtaro’s skull was lobbed forth into the water. In response, a fish leapt up out of the water, scared by the sudden flash of steam.

The fish had Ixtaro’s hook between its jaws, and landed just inches away from her. It was 3 feet long, covered in bristly red scales and had whisker-like appendages protruding from its body. Shirik then grabbed their rod with both hands and hauled on it, dragging a fish out of the water slowly.

As it broke the water’s surface, mud and sand flicked up in every direction as the absolute behemoth on Shirik’s line was revealed. No shorter than Ixtaro was tall, and at least 2 feet wide. The fish had a flat face and dark gray scales, with stubby appendages that looked like feet. By the time it left the water and flopped for oxygen, Shirik could no longer drag the beast forward.

Now they were cackling in amusement at this catch. ”I haven’t seen one of these in centuries!”

”Jesus, Shirik. Give me a warning next time,” Itxaro said in disbelief as she watched the fish bow and shudder on the shore. What she wanted a warning for, Itxaro wasn’t sure. Giant fish, fireballs, perhaps both. They were monsters to be sure, bigger than anything she’d seen dragged from the water before.

Itxaro stood up and wrenched her prosthetic free of the now mangled aluminum rod. She shook like a wet dog, trying to rid herself of the sand now covering her body. “Thanks though. Didn’t think a city girl like me could catch a fish like that, did ya?” Itxaro added as she swiped away sand clinging to her arms and stomach. She couldn’t help join in Shirik’s laughter, both at the absurdity of the situation and out of relief. “Wasn’t planning on a swim this morning. What do we do with these big bastards now? And what the hell do you call them?” She eyed the two fish suspiciously, as if they had somehow conspired to drag her into the lake. Itxaro kept her distance from them.

”What I caught is called a Murkmaw. Yours is a Soreltail. Now, all we have to do is drag them up the hill and cool them. That’s why I brought the net.”

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After binding their catches in the grass net, the two hauled their catch back up through the woods and into the clearing between the Jotunheim and the Ascendency’s camp. Shirik led Ixtaro to a small clump of 3 feet tall wooden sticks embedded in the ground. Next to it was a setup that allowed slices of meat to be hung over the ground. Under it was a smoking put full of blackened wood, smoking like the night of the crash.

”This is the part where you learn why I am the greatest heat mage to ever walk this land,” Shirik proclaimed in a near uncanny amount of confidence compared to any of their previous conversations.

”All I need from you is the sharpest knife you can bring me.” As they said this Shirik began tearing bark off of trees.

Itxaro shook her leg, still ridding herself of sand that had crept into her clothes, and rummaged through her pack before brandishing a large combat knife in its sheath. "Alright, world's greatest mage, let's see what you can do," Itxaro teased as she watched the Iriad work.

"I still want an answer to my question that Murkmaw so rudely interrupted, by the way." She held the sheathed knife out to Shirik, hilt-first. ”What would you do in our shoes?”

Accepting the curiously shaped metal knife, Shirik confided. ”I would ignore the bargains of political leaders. I would pick a direction and simply walk. What happens after simply happens. If I became the king of the strange new world or died within the hour, then I would have done both on my own terms.”

“Hmm. Ok. Not really an option for us, but good to know.” Shirik’s answer didn’t exactly provide Itxaro with a great alternative, but it certainly spoke volumes about what kind of being they were.

With that being said and done, Shirik slowly dragged the Murkmaw up over one shoulder and unceremoniously dropped it onto its back, over the spikes where it was impaled. The Sorelrail was impaled upon the spikes beside it in the same way. Shirik quickly and thoughtlessly scraped away every single scale in minutes. They then removed all the extremities from the Murkmaw with near surgical precision, laying them gently on the grass net along with a handful of sappy bark strips. The Soreltail was on the same way, except the fins were kept as well.

The next thing Shirik did was open them up, slicing away even, calculated chunks of flesh in rectangular cuts. There was enough flesh on the Murkmaw that Shirik skewered at least three slabs on every spike. Ixtaro was reminded of pinchos morunos, a sort of kebab, in the way they were laid out. She watched, obviously impressed with Shirik’s deft knife handling. In ten minutes, the guts of the Murkmaw were fully looted from its corpse. Blood began to well inside the newfound cavity, but this was intended.

Shirik did much the same for the smaller Soreltail, except they cut away its meat in longer strips, which were then cut in half and then fourths and laid across the cooking spit beside the spikes. These were higher above the ground. The smoke rose up and would eventually dry the meat out, making it edible for weeks after, or feed people for one evening if it was shared.

Shirik stepped back and began to draw shapes out of fire. A glowing ring of yellow light encircled the spikes, as the light arched over like the frame of a dome. Shirik raised their arms over their head, and the ring slammed itself into the dirt without a sound, causing the grass and the ground itself to ignite in a brilliant fire. The wooden stakes were untouched by the blaze, but the heat began to cook the meat slowly.

They then drew a small circle with one finger, and threw it into the pit like a frisbee, causing the smoke beneath the Soreltail to come up in greater volume. Shirik walked over and picked up the bark stripes, slowly dropping the sap on them onto the Murkmaw meat to add flavor to it.

With another hand, they made a circle over the harvested fins that quickly seared the very air around them, drying the fins out and cooking them in seconds. Strange as it may sound, the fins of a Soreltail tasted very peppery when cooked soon after being severed from the body.

”The feast will be ready shortly. Tell Zeynap that she is more than welcome to attend, and bring as many guests as she would like. I can feed over 30 people with this catch. I’ll tell Kareet and the Castigator shortly.”

Itxaro looked over the spread, barely to contain her excitement to eat food that hadn’t been pickled in fetid chemicals for several months. It might poison her, but judging from the smell of roasting fish, it just might be worth it. "I'll let'em know, see if we can't have the science team check if this is safe to - ah, fuck it."

Itxaro grabbed one of the skewered fins, from the Soreltail she thought, and bit into the flaky flesh. It was cooked through, so hopefully no risk of parasites, and the taste was exceptional; richer than she'd expected, dense, and almost spicy. "Oh yeah," Itxaro said as she chewed with a grin, "Not bad, chef, you've outdone yourself. How'd a tree get so good at cooking?"

Itxaro started to walk off in search of the commander, food in hand, but turned back to the strange creature tending to the fire. they were truly and utterly alien in every sense of the word. And yet, this alien had likely just saved her life an hour ago, and was now attempting, in their way, to broker some kind of peace between the humans and Ascendency via medieval barbeque. I think I owe him. Big time.

Itxaro wasn't big on thank you's, but she tried. "We'll have to do this again sometime. Maybe hunt some grazing animals, or at least something that won't try to drown me."

Shrink nodded to Ixtaro, and as she left, they turned and shouted in Kareet and Vigis’ direction.

”Kareet! You’re invited to eat with us and the humans shortly! Tell the Castigator if you see her!”

And then they turned their full attention to the food.

Avengers Academy 💥

Leah Jordan

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Location: Framework
Skills: Punching things and throwing rocks
Today’s Fit

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The fucking cat landed in her hair. And didn’t get hurt. That was good at least, since they’d probably have to square off at some point. The first thing she did was pogo off of everyone’s hair and taught about slaughter, blood and entrails. Something about Usagi rubbed Leah the wrong way, in the same way Danni did. She just didn’t stop running her damn mouth at Mach-4 and as loud as she could. Why couldn’t the High Evolutionary have made her less obnoxious? Jeez. Stealing a quick glance back at her phone, Leah slipped it away and joined the land of the living again.

At least Vic didn’t seem that amused either.

”Leah. Codename Jotunn. Favorite color is orange, and people give a shit about me because I run the entire battlefield with my mind. And because I punch like a mule.” Usagi had to be aware of these things already. Leah’s history of being a tactician was something that explained itself given the multiple superhero classes she took around that very subject, as well as the nature of her powers, her past fuckery in the Framework simulations and the fact that Usagi picked her personally.

Thinking about it, there wasn’t much difficulty in seeing the synergy this team seemed to have. Arcade was the tech guy, and his abilities, mutant or otherwise, fit pretty decently with just about anything that had wires, like Vicky’s suit. They’d be in good company. Zarina was a fucking valkyrie which meant they had decent frontlining. Diana’s teleporting and ranged skills would easily fill gaps in Zarina’s up close fighting tactics. She could hit targets from places none of them could. And Leah’s own powers could give her vantage points and sight lines if her teleporting failed.

Maybe this was secretly why Usagi put them together.

Titans of Gotham

“I’m so sorry team, but GCPD just found Gemini’s body in an old abandoned warehouse in midtown."

The crime scene suggests it was Peace Keeper 01."

The words hit Oscar like cold water. Standing statue still with his arms crossed, the titanic metahuman released a labored sigh of displeasure. Nothing would bring Gemini back, but letting Peace Keeper go unpunished would only let this happen more. He had faced the vigilante more times than he could count, and could attribute plenty of scars to their paths crossing. One of his new teammates stormed off in tears, and another disappeared. He could hear what sounded like crying from the kitchen. Oscar couldn't blame either of them. Natalie struck him as the type who needed that solitude, and staying here meant he could console someone else.

Natalie wasn't wrong, though. That little information wasn't productive.

He walked in and found her under a kitchen counter. She looked terrified. Of course she was, Gemini was dead and they were all very, very mortal. Oscar knelt down under the countertop and very gentle rested a hand on Tiara's shoulder. Everything was fragile to his hands.

"It's scary, knowing your life is in danger. I've stood in Peace Keeper's way enough times to know it could happen to any of us, and he knows me well enough he'll have something in mind for me if we meet again. It's okay to be scared. You can't be brave if you're not." Oscar talked like he was 30 years old, consoling someone who was scared of the world ending tomorrow. That's just how he was. "We'll find him. We'll make him face the consequences of every person he's ever killed, and Gemini will rest easier because of it."

Titans of Gotham

discord.gg/TUFUCgXE

Omega never got around to sending it so

Here

Avengers Academy 💥

Leah Jordan

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Location: Dorms - The Gym
Skills: Punching things and throwing rocks
Today’s Fit

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Reading the letter that they both got, Leah identified her team. Neither Sabine nor April were on hers. That was… Unlucky. How did someone have two girlfriends and not be put on a team with either of them? Oh well. Absence made the hearts grow fonder. Let’s see… That Zarina chick, the blondie with the nerd shit, the blondie with the who she never got along with due to that ego… Who the fuck is Arcade? She didn’t recognize whoever he was, but she’d probably meet him soon. The letter said to meet at the Frames. In that ugly-ass uniform. Fantastic.

Not giving a shit whether or not Sabine made her forget she was still in the room, Leah tore through her closet and pulled out pants, a shirt, and whatever the coat-thing was. Blazer? Overcoat? Fuck if she knew. Leah was sure as hell not wearing a skirt with the amount of scars, faded abrasions and burns she had on her legs from the good old days. She changed into the uniform quickly enough, grateful that someone somewhere remembered that it had to be made of something especially resistive lest it be shredded when she put it over her head. She grabbed her usual things and headed out the door.

Leah wasn't very familiar with... Any of these people. She just barely met one of them two days ago, didn't know anything about Zarina and didn't like Diana at all. Now they were all on one team that was meant to overthrow the Baby Avengers one day but likely wouldn't. Not that Leah really cared about that sort of thing. She was just here to... Well, she was definitely here. She made her way up the steps to the second floor and found herself to be the third one there. Diana and Vicky. People she didn't know enough to really talk to.

It said a lot when the cat with a drinking problem was supposed to be Miss Teacher for this year. Not when it was put that way, but it said a little more when Leah, Vicky and Diana were here and she wasn't. Oh well, she thought, as she pulled up a chair and checked her phone... Might as well text the girls.

@April, @Sabine

Earthbender: How the hell are none of us on the same team

"Where the hell is she? She sleep in or something?" "She" being the weird GMO cat.