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A N D R O M E D A G A L A X Y

Tolmeria System

The Kymellian smartship sailed toward the neutron star.

Alarms were echoing inside of the craft, alongside eerie sounds of the hull compressed under the stress. Still, the young horse-lord pressed the craft on. Standing before the cockpit’s large window, the technomancer’s apprentice had his three-fingered hands extended out toward the void beyond the glass.

Warning: gravimetric shear in excess of safe margins.

The white maned boy’s eyes were vacant. Glowing, pearlescent orbs of energy as the child slipped into a trance, divining the universe according to the laws of physics. The layers of the physical realm separated into strata of matter, organized and orderly, surrounded by the chaotic forces of kinetic potential that was contained behind every possible action.

Turning his hand, Kofi extended his metaphysical reach out toward where a single human child was acting against the gravitational force of the collapsed stellar core. It was as though Billy was just out of reach. Kofi’s fingertips brushing against the boy, without being able to grasp him.

There was a sound like part of the hull beginning to buckle. This is as close as I can get you,” Friday’s voice snapped.

Crossing his arms, the young Kymellian drew in a deep breath. Then worked through a series of meditative exercises designed to open up the mind’s eye to the prime physical realities. Gravity. Velocity. Matter. Energy.

Outside, in space, the dark haired boy was pushing himself harder than he had any time before. The output would have been blinding, except that the forces rolling off his body were immediately stripped away toward the stellar prison that was pulling him down.

Kofi put his palm against the glass, as though willing his reach to push through the unseen barrier. “Come on, Billy,” Kofi uttered, gritting his teeth as he redoubled his efforts. “Come on...”

A presence appeared behind him, matter displaced and then re-organized as Lord Aelfyre Whitemane just snapped into being, teleporting aboard Friday. A glow rose up from Kofi’s feet, as a scientific equation was scrawled out like a magic circle, surrounding where the two Kymellian technomancer’s were weaving their powers in unison.

“Billy Batson, I need you to picture Friday in your mind,” Aelfrye voice supplied, the voice of the elder Kymellian booming in both Billy and Kofi’s heads. In his mind’s eye, Kofi could now see the threads of physical reality that were weaving through the forces that were acting on Billy’s corporeal matter.

“See yourself where you want to be.”

Doubt was starting to sap the strength from Billy’s will to keep trying. Pushing harder to go forward, when everything was working to drag him down. “Where I want to be…” the boy echoed, even as he struggled to raise his eyes toward the small, speck of light that was the smartship.

He suddenly felt weightless. A mild dissociation as the familiar, intrusive touch of Kymellian teleportation magic suddenly swelled around him.

He managed a weak smile as he felt the universe start to slip away...

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The energy coursed across the sky.

Across the globe, the phenomenon caught the attention of space agencies. A comet that had escaped notice? A meteorite colliding with Earth? There was no warning and not enough time to try and deduce what was happening.

Whatever it was, it was already here. Only after the fact was there time to digest and deduce the available data to determine that something had just crashed down in Fawcett City, Ohio.

The cascade of energy displaced the water vapor in the air, creating a beautiful illusion in the sky. It was as though the end of the rainbow had appeared over Fawcett, out of which tumbled a single, small object.

The child’s red-and-blue emblazoned form slipped into the atmosphere, as the unconscious Marvel dropped toward the ground below like a stone. The lightshow overhead had garnered attention, the people on the street looking up in awe at the appearance of the dark speck that had appeared from out of the now fading rainbow.

A shrill whistle permeated the air, as the boy’s still form shot through the air with the collected inertia propelled on by gravity. In the park, awe transformed to panic as people scrambled away from where the airborne child seemed aimed to land.

The impact send a plume of grass and dirt twenty feet into the air. As the soil rained back down, a few brave individuals crept toward the small crater that had been carved like a scar across the otherwise pastoral green lawn. A dark haired boy lay there, his form still.

The 9-1-1 call went out from there.

The ambulance arrived about twenty minutes after. Police cordoning off the area around where EMTs put the boy up on a gurney.

Wheeled into the emergency room, the EMTs passed the gurney off to the attendant medical staff. “Juvenile male, age unknown. Literally fell out of the sky. All witness accounts agree by at least a couple of hundred feet,” the EMT supplied, as the doctor bent over the gurney. Prying open Billy’s eyes, one after the other, the man shone a light to gauge the pupil response. “Pulse and breathing irregular, but all outward injuries appear to be superficial lacerations or bruising.”

“What is this material he’s wearing?” a nurse blurt out, prompting the doctor to look down with the realization that the child was attired in some form of armor.

“Oh, watch the cuffs,” the EMT uttered, indicating the bluish-gray metal encircling the child’s forearms. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the gauntlets almost seemed to be glowing. “Those things will give you a wicked shock.”

“We need to clear a path to a vein for a blood type and screen,” the doctor said.

“Maybe he’s O-Neg?”

Turning his head, the doctor looked over at a medic, then down to where the medic’s hand was holding an object. The boy was wearing a set of notched dog tags around his neck.

Reaching out, the doctor inspected the tags. They looked military. And old. The name embossed read WILLIAM J BATSON. “Find our Red Cross liaison,” the man stated, looking back up at the medic. “Maybe they can run that tag. See if it gets us his parents.”
So, in the interest of spurring OOC discussion (so we can get to the 2000th post and it can be used for something that isn't a GIF of Thanos dabbing), what is, all time, your favorite single piece of superhero media? It can be a movie, TV show, comic run, anything of your choosing.


Kieron Gillen's Journey Into Mystery run, specifically the Fear Itself event.
H A L E Y ’ S C I R C U S

Gotham City Premier | March 15, 1967

The ground is forty feet below me.

There’s no net.

Nothing holding me up. I let go of the flying trapeze and, for a moment, I’m flying. I can hear the gasps, the collective holding of breath, and even a few shrieks rise from below. I’m starting to fall, but I’m not afraid. I just stretch out my arms, and I know she’ll be there to catch me. Because she’s always there. Because she always does.

The gasps echo, louder this time, as we both go sailing through the air. Me, dangling in mid-air, and my mother holding onto my arms with her legs hooked around the trapeze bar.

Then she lets go.

The screams pierce the air. I shut out the audience - the blur of faces and lights - as I tuck into a ball and flip through the air. Once. Twice. What they don’t see is my father, standing on the platform. He let the trapeze bar go right as I finished the first rotation. Coming out of the second, I plane my body out. My hands open wide, the trapeze bar smacking right against the palms. Holding fast, I sail through the air. Dismount, tuck into a backflip, and make the landing on the platform.

The cheers break out, even as my mother is following suit, until all three of us are standing on the platform together. The applause grows in intensity as she dismounts and joins us, then transforms into a standing ovation as we take a bow.


“The fearless Flying Graysons! Let’s have a great Gotham round of applause for ten year old Dicky Grayson. The youngest acrobat performing today!”

I step back, and soon I’m the only one standing on the platform. The performance goes into the second act and I’ve got the best seat in the house.

Stepping back from the platform, I put my back against the tent pole and slide down. The strength seems to go out of my legs and I’m starting to realize that my arms are numb. My heart is pounding in my chest and I’m still trying to catch my breath. Below, it probably feels a little cool inside the tent. Up here, with all the lights, it feels like it’s a hundred degrees.

There’s a strange twang overhead. I look up, but it’s just the tension wires. In between the platforms, mom and dad are really putting on a show. I know every move. I know each routine. But it’s still incredible to witness. It takes my breath away, and I get to see this every day. The audience below? Amazed would be an understatement. I wish that I could be out there with them, but I’m still too little. Mom and dad are worried that I’ll get tired. Tired during practice is one thing. We have nets and safety harnesses while we learn a new routine. It gives us that little extra security to push ourselves to the limit to figure out what works and what doesn’t. Which, in my case, usually doesn’t. I hit the net four or five or even a dozen times some days.

But that’s practice, and this isn’t. So I come in at the start of the performance for the first act, then I’m sidelined for the second, and come back toward the end of the third. But I don’t really have any stunts after the first act.

The sound again. Louder, the cable and support structure giving a snap-CLAP of protest that echoed like a roll of thunder. I heard it. I bet the audience below heard it.

My parents heard it.

They’ve paused their routine, missing the jump. They’re lower than they should be. From this vantage point, I can see that the trapeze is sagging. My dad’s looking up at the cables. My mom’s looking at me. I can see her face.

I can see her fear.

“Mom?”

The cable snaps before I can even get back to my feet. “DAD!” I see them drop, and lunge forward. I collapse onto the platform, peering over the ledge and I see everything.

I see the end of the world.


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City of Bludhaven, New Jersey
Present Day


The coffee had been cold for more than an hour.

The styrofoam cup cradled in his hand, untouched, as he sat there. He seemed as oblivious to its presence in his grasp as he was the flash of lights from the roof of the police cruiser. The door to the car was open, one leg extended out to the shoulder of the road. Propped up in the driver’s seat, the former circus acrobat looked as though he was withering away. His clothes might have been slept in.

And that was before the call had come in about a school bus out on Route Sixteen.

The iconic, yellow caravan was reflected in the windshield of the police cruiser. Dick was staring at it when the phone rang. Reaching inside of his wrinkled suit coat, the disheveled man fished out a cell phone. Swiping a thumb across the screen, he brought the phone up up to the side of his head as he answered, “Yeah?”

“This hasn’t been a good two weeks for you, Commissioner.”

The scowl on the man’s well-lined face only deepened. He’d known it was only a matter of time before the political vultures began circling.

This had been a month for vultures.

“This hasn’t been a good two weeks for any of us,” Dick answered, working to keep his voice even as he spoke back into the phone.

“The mayor is asking for advice on what the messaging should be on this,” the man on the other end of the line remarked, before plunging ahead with what was obviously the line that the PR cadre intended to try and tow. “Can we call it an accident?”

With a shake of his head, Dick just rolled his eyes in disbelief. Then, staring at the coffee lingering in the cup, pitched the drink out the door of the car before returning to the conversation. In a much more heated tone. “I’ve got three dead bodies and thirteen missing children,” Dick snapped coldly. Did these politicians even give a damn about any of that? At times, he had his doubts. “That’s thirteen families that are going to show up in the hospitals, looking for their kids who were in the ‘accident.’ How long do you imagine that story’s going to hold water?”

Jesus. He was appealing to a political lobbyist with common sense. That was somewhere between futile and talking to a wall.

“We can’t go public with this,” the man’s voice on the line repeated, though it seemed as though he didn’t have any alternatives or thoughts of his own on the matter. “The outcry could spark a panic.”

“Whatever happened to ‘and the truth shall set you free?’”

“Jesus saves. You know what Jesus doesn’t do? Manage a fucking election campaign,” the man on the phone snapped in retort. There was a pause, before Dick heard, “Tell your people to keep this close-hold. We’ll be in touch regarding the messaging.”

The line gave a click, before Dick was left with the muted warble of the cell phone closing the connection.

He just sat there, in the police cruiser, staring out at the school bus without so much as breathing. Then, he punched the steering wheel as he lurched forward and exploded with a forceful, FUCK!

His people were trained to serve and protect. To color within the lines, investigating ordinary crimes.

There was nothing ordinary about what was happening in Bludhaven right now.

Relaxing back into the driver’s seat, Dick looked at his phone. A tap of his thumb brought up his contacts. Without even thinking about it, he started scrolling through the list.

Until his thumb hovered over a name.

WAYNE, BRUCE

He stayed that way for about three minutes, debating in his mind whether to make that phone call or not.

Instead, he put the phone down. His head in his hands, the Flying Grayson was at his wit’s end. He hadn’t been this twisted since he’d walked out on Bruce. But, he was certain of one thing.

Turning to Bruce Wayne for help was not the answer.

Instead, he picked the phone up and, this time, scrolled through the contacts until his thumb landed on CHARLES, SARAH.

This time, he pressed it.

Holding the phone up to his ear again, he heard it ring twice before she picked up. “Sarah? Dick Grayson.”

”Dick?” He almost winced at the surprise in her voice. Not because she was surprised, but because he knew that he’d come that guy who only called his friends when he needed something.

He’d become like Bruce.

”Oh my God, it’s been ages! How are you?”

He forced himself to smile. People could always hear the smile. “Good. You sound good,” he offered, trying to come off as relaxed or casual.

He could try to make conversation or...

No, just get to it. “You have time for a cup of coffee?” Dick asked, before adding “Your office, preferably.”
OLD MAN GRAYSON
A N D R O B I N T H E T O Y W O N D E R

R I C H A R D G R A Y S O N J A S O N T O D D B L Ü D H A V E N B A T - F A M I L Y
C O N T I N U I N G C O N C E P T:



Dick Grayson was only 10 years old when he became an orphan. At the time, he had been the youngest performing acrobat. That was in 1968, the same year he met a man named Bruce Wayne. Wayne fostered the orphaned circus performer, invariably dragging into Wayne’s own world of secrets and shadows. Dick became Robin, the Boy Wonder -- until 1980, when a falling out between the two led Dick to striking out on his own. He got serious about his education and became a Blüdhaven police officer to make ends meet. For a time, he lived a double life. Officer Grayson by day and the vigilante known as Nightwing by night. That lasted until the early 2000s, when age and competing interests with his police career caused him to hang up the cowl. Today, in his early 60s, he’s still active as Commissioner Grayson of the Blüdhaven Police Department.

Jason Todd is a mechanical automaton. Originally constructed by the late Winslow Schott to serve as both a surrogate son and henchman, the robot terrorized Gotham and Blüdhaven as the villain Toyboy until 1996, when he betrayed the Toyman and turned both Schott and himself over to Nightwing. Using stolen patents, Jason's android replicates the work of Dr. Phineas Horton. Originally classified as a robot or android, modern scientific nomenclature describes him as a synthetic human or synthezoid. Powered by a Horton Cell battery, Toyboy has been studied by S.T.A.R. Labs since the doll surrendered itself to Nightwing in 1996. In order to facilitate the double life that he now leads as part of Dick’s life, Toyboy has adopted the identity of Jason Todd, the alter ego of Robin, the Toy Wonder.

C H A R A C T E R M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S:

This season will explore Dick’s backstory while continuing the new adventures of Robin, the Toy Wonder across three story arcs that will incorporate my own take on a classic Batman: the Animated Series story, an early Jason Todd/Robin story, and a Tim Drake/Robin story.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:

As a Bat-Family character, Robin, the Toy Wonder shares much of its concepts with those of @Lord Wraith’s Batman. Particular characters that will be recurring to the Bludhaven Saga are:.

THE GOOD
Dr. Sarah Charles: In the 1990s, while just an intern at S.T.A.R. Labs, Sarah Charles was rescued by Nightwing and became a trusted contact and confidant. She was entrusted with custody of Toyboy and became the head of the secretive project studying the Horton Cells that power him.

Lieutenant Cissy Chambers: A good cop who stumbled into a police career against her best intentions of a brief interlude to pay for her education. Currently being groomed by Grayson to replace him as the next police commissioner of Blüdhaven.

Colin Wilkes: A troubled orphan in the care of the New Jersey Juvenile Justice Commission, currently held in state custody at the Blüdhaven Home for Boys, run by Ma Gunn.

THE BAD
Anton Schott (The Dollmaker): The son of the Toyman, the late Winslow Schott, Anton was the victim of horrific crimes at the hands of his father, resulting in deep psychosis that led to his creation of the Dollmaker identity.

Sheriff Steven “Shotgun” Smith: The sheriff of Gotham County, with fills the jurisdictional “no man’s land” between Gotham City and Blüdhaven. A history of racially charged police beatings ran him out of the Gotham City Police Department, but he’s managed to hold onto his police career outside the city limits as the sheriff.

Matthew Hagan (Clayface): In the 1970s, Matt Hagan was an aspiring actor who might have hoped to have become a D-list Hollywood Talent. Unfortunately, his experimentation unstable chemicals to enhance his looks resulted in a monstrous transformation. He battled Batman and Robin (later Nightwing), but has been presumed dead since the early 1990s.

Ma Gunn: An elderly Gotham heiress who has devoted her family’s fortune to investing in the impoverished children of both Gotham and Blüdhaven, overseeing the Blüdhaven Home for Boys as her part on the Governor’s Juvenile Justice Commission.

Arnold Etchinson (Abbatoir): A serial killer who believes that he draws mystical power from the blood of those who share relation to him, leading him to murder any and everyone with a connection to the Etchinson line.

THE UGLY
The Black Cullens: The organized crime that runs the Blüdhaven Ports Authority. They exist in a sort of gang “cold war” with the Black Mask crime group that operates out of Gotham.

The Street Demonz Gang: The derelicts, drop outs, and future felons on two wheels that terrorize the outskirks of Blüdhaven, rarely but occasionally, stirring up trouble in the city proper. They’re separate from the Black Cullens, but often get used as low level dealers, muscle, or otherwise pick up odd jobs for the mob money.

S E A S O N O N E S Y N O P S I S:

When 15 children disappear during an elementary school field trip, Dick Grayson realizes that he’s facing a menace beyond the means of law enforcement. Too old to suit up as Nightwing, Dick instead gambles on using one of his former enemies as a surrogate Robin -- Toyboy. With Toyboy’s robot senses supplying information for Grayson’s deductive reasoning, the pair are able to identify two possible locations where the children could be held. The subsequent investigation goes awry, with Dick becoming entangled amid a meth lab while Toyboy stumbles upon his former charge and master. Though Toyboy was ultimately successful in the rescue of the children, Anton Schott escaped and remains at large.

Realizing that he’s too old to ever be Nightwing again, Dick resigns himself to playing the role of Jim Gordon, while living vicariously through Toyboy’s own adventures as the new Robin. While Dick’s police force continues the work of pursuing where Anton Schott may have fled, Dr. Sarah Charles de-activates Toyboy again in order to perform hardware, firmware, and software upgrades necessary to prevent Toyboy from becoming unrepairable as his manufacture rapidly becomes obsolete.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

S E A S O N O N E:
Chapter One: “The Dark Nightwing Returns”
Issue 1.01: Objects in Motion
Issue 1.02: Objects at Rest
Issue 1.03: Past Prologue
Issue 1.04: Commissioner Grayson
Issue 1.05: Smells like Toyboy Spirit
Issue 1.06: I, Toyboy
Issue 1.07: Nightwing
Issue 1.08: Sins of the Father
Issue 1.09: Cold Comfort
Issue 1.10: Boy
Issue 1.11: Schott's Flaw

S E A S O N T W O:
Chapter Two: “Feat of Clay”
Issue 2.01: Unit 12
Issue 2.02: Do Toyboy's Dream of Electric Sheep?
Issue 2.03: Disappearing Act
Issue 2.04: The Masquerade
Issue 2.05: A Boy Named Jason
Issue 2.06: Imitation of Life
Issue 2.07: About a Girl
Issue 2.08: Darkwing
Issue 2.09: In And Out Burger
Issue 2.10: Annie
Issue 2.11: Enter the Clayface
Issue 2.12: Boy Wonders
Issue 2.13: I Know Just The Place
Issue 2.14: How I Met Your Father
Issue 2.15: I Am Clayface


Chapter Three: “Where the Streets Have No Name”
Coming soon.

Chapter Four: “On the Wings of Dirty Angels”
Coming soon.
@Ultimate Spidey

Go for it!

Clearly, you need to use the Power Pack and have them all be one aspect of Shazam via fusion technique. Appease Bounce. Do it.
Then you'll have Power Pack with Shazam mythos, and Billy Batson with Power Pack mythos. The symmetry.


Katie Power as Shazam would be amazing awesome.

And probably end the world.
Just a note that the application for Robin the Toy Wonder has been updated based on discussion with @Lord Wraith.
@Ultimate Spidey

We briefly had Kamala Kahn as Shazam. Billy Batson is currently the Marvel Comics Captain Marvel.

So the role of the Wizard’s champion is open at present, as is the Marvel Family minus Billy.
T H E F O R B I D D E N A S T E R O I D S

The Andromeda Galaxy

The young horse lord was seated in mid-air.

It was a floating meditation. A practical exercise in the application of physics that defined the fundamental principles of Kymellian technomancy. His three-fingered hands held out, the boy concentrated on understanding the present exercise. To understand his place in the universe. To reflect on what forces were acting on him. To appreciate how he affected the kinetic potential around him…

He was interrupted by a chime.

Looking up, the young Kymellian spoke to the air as he answered, “Yes?”

“Lord Whitemane, you’d requested to be contacted when we had contact from the human.”

The horse-boy’s ears immediately perked up. “Billy?” he uttered wistfully, hopping from out of the lotus position. In a shimmery flash, the world surrounding him was displaced. Gone were his spartan quarters. In their place, he had returned to central assembly.

“Captain... og, star... whatever point...”

It was unmistakably Billy Batson. The sound of his voice brought a smile to Kofi’s long face, his imagination already running away with flights of fantasy that sought to speculate on what adventure that Billy might have found waiting for him on Tolmeria.

G’Kar and Aelfyre were already present, the two figures pouring over different monitors. “The Galladorians have an exploratory vessel that received this transmission,” Aelfyre offered, casually taking note of his young cousin’s arrival.

“I’ve arrived... Tolmeria. Surface search is... ning up any signs of life... definitely been a... something here. Maybe a...”

The sound of Billy’s voice was becoming distorted, crackling in and out amid bursts of static. After a moment, Aelfyre looked up and noted, “That was as much of the signal that they were able to decipher.”

Kofi looked down toward the floor, then raised his eyes again. It was more news than they’d had. And now they knew that Billy had arrived at Tolmeria.

“The vessel was able to capture several scans of the Tolmeria System,” G’Kar intoned, in his booming voice. Lowering his tone slightly, the Okaaran warlord noted, “The energy readings are concerning.”

An Okaaran who expressed anything resembling fear was cause for a double take.

Aelfyre moved over toward the monitor where G’Kar had been standing. Reviewing the data there, the elder Kymellian remarked, “This electromagnetic signature is consistent with Billy’s power. But I don’t think we’ve seen him hold such a high output for any extended period of time.”

G’Kar just gave a solemn nod. “Whatever he’s fighting, Billy’s at his limit.”

Kofi just blinked at that suggestion. Billy had a limit? Everything that Kofi had seen had caused him to believe that Billy was unstoppable.

So, the Kymellian boy could hardly believe the question that he was posing, as he opened his mouth and asked, “He’s in trouble?”

Aelfyre didn’t answer.

“We may all be in trouble,” G’Kar murmured darkly.

The two adults just stood there, arms crossed and brooding as they cast dark glances at the monitors in the room.

Looking up at the pair, Kofi was quiet for only a moment before he reached up to tap his communicator. “Friday, please prepare for launch.”

Aelfyre’s head snapped up. “Kofi, what are you doing?”

What was he doing? What should he be doing?

What would Billy do?

Standing his ground, the horse-lord looked up at his uncle and said, “Well, for starters, I’m not standing around.”

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Space was an infinite vacuum that was expanding infinitely in all directions.

So how was it possible to be out of breath in space? Well, beyond the notion of being out of breath all the time. Because of the no air thing.

But, seriously, Billy ordinarily moved about in deep space with no problem. Now, he and this Terrax guy had been going at it for long enough that they’d moved from the planet into orbit and then beyond.

For his part, Billy was pretty winded. Which was remarkable, because he’d forgotten just what this felt like. The last time he’d felt this way, it was the Second World War and Billy still had no ideas just what his powers even did.

And Terrax the Pants-less?

Dude still seemed the same as when Billy first met him. He took everything that Billy could dish out and then came back without so much as a scratch. The transition from terrestrial planet to the interstellar medium allowing Billy a luxury of being able to cut loose without worrying about doing some serious damage to the environment. Even still, none of his blasts seemed to faze Terrax.

They were fighting to a stand-still, but it wouldn’t last. Terrax was wearing Billy down. At this rate, Billy would exhaust himself and then Terrax would return to Tolmeria to continue the conquest and enslavement of the planet.

Unfortunately, punching things repeatedly wasn’t looking like it was going to carry the day for this one. And Billy was running out of other ideas.

There was a warbling chirp in his right ear.

His communicator had just paired with another. Did that mean..? “Friday, I need something to trap this guy. Quick!”

“Trap?” Kofi’s voice came back through the open channel. “What trap?”

“I dunno,” Billy tossed back, ducking and weaving as he continued to try and press his attack. Something!

Trading a series of blows, Billy fought to try and get a word out. “I just do the punching, you’re ‘sposed to do the thinking.”

Friday’s voice came back a moment later. “There is a neutron star at approximately two-eight-seven mark twelve, distance forty astronomical units.”

Glancing around, Billy finally stared down at his feet and oriented himself to the location that Friday had mentioned. He could feel the gravity from here. Getting close to that was going to be a day time…

“Kofi, I hope you got a bodyslide in you,” Billy noted softly. Bracing himself, he deflected a punch along his forearm, before angling himself so that Terrax was between himself and the neutron star. “‘Cuz I think I’m gonna need one…”

“You’re not actually flying into a neutron star, are you?”

“See you in a bit,” Billy quipped, before rocketing forward in an explosion of nuclear energies. He slammed into Terrax, grabbing hold of him even as the two accelerated rapidly to the speed of light, and then beyond.

Letting go of Terrax, Billy flipped around to kick away from the pants-less dictator.

He didn’t get very far.

He could feel himself falling backward into the star’s gravity. It was possible that this was a bad idea.

Pressing against the edge of forever, he blacked out.
Tagging @Lord Wraith as the Bat-Family Patriarch, @IceHeart as the Bat-Family Matriarch, and @Gowi for the Superman/Supergirl elements (Winslow & Anton Schott).

Naota Nara



The midgets were parading through the doors.

Herded like cats, and with arguably even less of an attention span, the academy students straggled from out of their classes. As they did, one head would pop up from among the crowd, briefly appearing amid anxious glances before slipping back down to the ground. Another moment and then his head would pop up again, as the child literally hopped up and down, his head seemingly on a swivel as the boy seemed to be looking desperately for something.

The Jounin had returned to the village? Was it true? Did that mean that the war was over?

Did that mean that Shikato had come back as well?

Try as he might, Naota could not see any indication that his brother was anywhere to be found. Even still, he never stopped looking for him. Anxious and fidgeting as he stood around the school yard, largely oblivious to the snippets of conversation that passed over his head or between his friends. There was talk of the war.

There was always talk of the war.

So what was different now? At last, roused from his own wistful thinking, the raven-haired youth slowly warmed to the realization that something was wrong.

"You're actually taking kids? To the front lines? That girl literally has a PUPPY to defend herself, and you want to send her in? What about that kid, the one there the Uchiha brat eh? He looks like he would die if I stared at him too long!"

Turning his head up, the faun-eyed Naota found himself observing a one-sided exchange between a pair of older ninja. The look on the face of the one who had spoken conveyed volumes more than words alone.
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