Dusty

Rangers

I've got a down to earth veteran contribution for Green completed, if you are ready to start taking applications.

Titans: Dawn of a New Tomorrow

You may want to let the good folks in your interest check know you've opened up the OOC. They seemed to have missed its premier. For my interest, how do you intend to open the roleplay? Will it start with Viran recruiting new members, or will we be starting as a newly formed team? Or something else entirely?

The Supermen of America

Is anyone willing to do a collaborative post? Just to keep things moving?

The Supermen of America

I don't know if I'm still around. I have trouble figuring out what to post.

@Crimson Flame

Feel free to shoot me a PM, I’d be happy to help brainstorm potential story ideas for you to work with.

The Supermen of America

Who’s still around?

The Supermen of America

Three years could really change a person Nightwing realized. Meeting his long time friend face to face brought back a swirl of forgotten memories, as he compared the Superboy he knew, to the Superman standing before him now. A genuine smile forged itself across his features at Kieran’s upbeat response, not everything changed apparently, thankfully. The masked hero stepped aside allowing the other man to stride past.

“Yeah, definitely.” Nightwing hesitated, then making a executive decision extended an offer to the departing Super. “You should come to the cave afterwards, it will be like old times. And you ought to meet the soon to be newest member of the Titans anyway.” Batman would never have sanctioned an unnecessary visit to the cave. Oftentimes unless circumstance demanded no one but the Batman and his Robin entered, after all it was a mission center not a social hub. For a few years, even Nightwing was not exactly welcomed within its dark recesses, his merely tolerated. Seeing as the base had been solely occupied by Nightwing and Robin for the last few weeks however the acrobat saw no reason not to invite his friend over. Alfred certainly wouldn’t care, he might even enjoy playing the Butler to a guest again. His attempt at adding some sort of purpose to the blatant social call helped him justify it to himself at least. Kieran ought to meet Tim, and get to know the newest Robin.

Nightwing fired his grapple, swinging down the last hundred feet to land beside Grodd’s collection apparatus. Left nearly entirely intact after the gorilla’s unceremonious retreat, the machine posed to be the answer behind this attack, and the first step in identifying the maniac’s end goal. Besides, Nightwing could not contain his own burning curiosity which demanded to know how the device worked, and why. Ignoring the curious looks from the Supermen he inspected the empty battery compartment first. His fingers ran over the connection ports and wiring curiously before he moved on to the internal control panels. One glance at the intricate wiring beneath caused the acrobat to hiss in distaste. He snapped his fingers away, narrowly avoiding getting his digits doused in acidic fluid. “Acid wash, activated after the battery cell was removed. Clever ape destroying the software-“

“Maybe not just Grodd though.” Nightwing glanced behind him, grinning at the sight of an all to familiar scarlet speedster being supported by Obsidian approaching.

“There you are, I thought maybe you’d gotten lost or were late for the fight. How are holding up?” Nightwing jested, throwing a mock punch at the Flash’s shoulder. The speedster caught it easily, letting their knuckles brush.

“Great, never better honestly.” The speedster glanced down at his slightly mangled legs, wincing. “Maybe a little embarrassed for being caught.” He remedied at Nightwing’s unconvinced expression. “I think we ought’a be concerned about you though. What are you doing out, during the day? I thought you turned into a vampire? It would explain the new look.”

Nightwing rolled his eyes beneath the white lenses of his mask. “Harr, harr fleetfeet. Joking aside, what did you mean, maybe not just Grodd. Is there someone else involved?”
Obsidian and Flash glanced at one another. “From what we heard, yeah. I might be mistaken but… It almost sounded like he wasn’t just working with someone, but for someone. If you could believe it.”

“Grodd, a subordinate…” Nightwing frowned, his lips drawing into a thin line. “Unusual…”

“You’re telling me.” The Flash waffled for a second and shrugged. “I guess I could be wrong.”

The masked heroes pondered their conflicting knowledge of Grodd’s usual MO, and what was witnessed today. The violent attack in Central City all fit, the main outlier being no clear motive, and the malefactor gorilla’s apparent subordination.

“That’s a helluva case bro.” Nightwing clapped Flash on the shoulder, shaking his head as if giving up. “A real conundrum, good luck cracking it, but I gotta get back to Gotham. I have my own head scratchers to solve.”

“Thanks, a lot” the speedster moaned, knowing full well Nightwing was making a jab at his mediocre detective skills. Eager though he might be, Flash never had been the master sleuth that Nightwing was. “I think I’ll just offload this one to the Supermen, or better yet.” He gave Nightwing a sly wink. “My best bro could help me out?”

“You ought’a ask him then.”

The speedster’s face scrunched up under the mask. “Ah, c’mon man. You aren’t gonna make me beg and cry are you? You know I will, I have no shame.”

Holding up his hands in mock defeat Nightwing resisted the urge to continue their verbal duel. He knew Flash well enough, and the threat of begging and ululations to achieve his goals were not idle ones. A small crowd of civilians were gathering, and the masked vigilante was beginning to feel exposed under their collective gazes. A familiar sensation at constant odds with his natural affinity to the spotlight, built up over the years serving as Batman’s sidekick. Avoiding cameras and publicity at all costs to preserve his identity. There were already going to be rumors, and now that he’d been spotted helping the Supermen of America in Central it was only a matter of time before the villains noticed as well and put two and two together. “Alright, alright fine I’ll help you. Send any information you gather along with whatever data the tech genius back at the Tower manage to salvage from Grodd’s toy my way. I need to split back to Gotham.”

“What, to much sunshine for the vampire?”

Nightwing shot the scarlet runner a good natured glare. “Something like that fleetfeet. Heal up bro, and I’ll see you soon.” A nod and a wave later the masked vigilante vanished into a nearby alleyway, blending into the shadows where he belonged.

The Supermen of America

@King Kindred @Omega Man

Nightwing could not help but release an amused chortle as Longshadow delivered a response that would have given Alfred an aneurysm. If nothing else, the masked acrobat felt assured Longshadow’s wit and crass tongue survived the “bitch-slapping” he received from Congorilla. Granted, if anyone could weather a sucker punch from the oversized ape and came back spouting crude quips it would be Longshadow. Speaking of people who could survive the monumental impact the gorilla’s fist delivered, Superman came crashing through the Marriott. The living Kryptonian missile bit deep, sending shudders up and down the structure, shaking it to its core. The structure, to its engineer’s credit was well built, but Nightwing winced at the thought of numerous expensive rooms being destroyed by Kieran’s rapid passage. Hopefully, no one had been in the way.

“How’s the face Supes.” He joked through the radio, peering over the edge towards Superman’s entry point. He considered climbing down to check on his friend’s wellbeing directly. Superman might have been Kryptonian, but even the neigh unharmable alien race could suffer physical damage if hit hard enough, his friend’s predecessor was a painful reminder that even the Supers were not wholly invulnerable. Besides, Nightwing reflected it had been a long time since they’d met face to face, too long in fact. With the battle wrapping up after Grodd’s retreat Nightwing decided a quick reunion would do him good. Fastening his jump line to the building’s edge Nightwing leapt into open space, feeling the rush of adrenaline as the wind whipped playfully at his raven hair. He plummeted a good hundred feet, sprinting straight down along the glass panels he had only just scaled until the line ran short and his internal harnessed arrested his rapid descent. With only a few meters left to go the acrobat jumped out and swung back in releasing his jump line and preforming a practiced mid-air somersault landing lithe as cat on the shattered windowsill.

Uncertainty gripped Nightwing as he examined the building’s destroyed interior. Superman’s destructive path could not be summarized so easily. Like a bullet tumbling upon entry, it bore all the hallmarks of unsteady flight. Granted, the human form was not designed for neatly piercing a hotel wall. He blinked, trying to readjust his eyes to the dark, something must have killed the building’s power, leaving the masked hero little option but to call out a greeting into the shadows. “Superman, hello are you alright?” Even years of practice couldn’t keep the note of concern from Nightwing’s tone, as he searched for his friend amid the rubble. He knew it was unreasonable to be overly worried. One hit from Congorilla wouldn't down the newest man of steel, but Nightwing felt that all-too familiar clenching feeling in his gut. Not again, not again so soon. His constant fear for further loss gnawed at his nerves, driving him to ever greater efforts. Bitterly it reminded him of his last conversation with Bruce, the argument they shared and the heated words neither truly meant, and now they could never apologize for what was said. Breathe, he command himself, slowing his rapid heartbeat. Flash, Superman, they were all fine. They had to be. He just had to locate Kieran first and make sure.

The Supermen of America

@King Kindred We might have to ask for more direct control over certain NPCs, just so Omega isn't struggling to keep up with us all.

The Supermen of America

I don't wanna post so soon after my last entry, but it seems the RP has already ground to a halt.

The Supermen of America

The most practical application of Nightwing’s abilities would be on the strategic level, operating from the shadows, providing intel and reconnaissance for the overall conflict. An important part, and generally ignored aspect by the JLA. Exiting the teleportation portal at a run Nightwing went directly into a combat roll, sliding behind an exhibit depicting several boomerangs and a crocodile Dundee hat. Besides the sounds of battle raging outside however there proved to be zero challenge to the Supermen’s’ direct line of reinforcement. Straightening up Nightwing scanned the surrounding memorabilia, hesitant despite the apparent lack of foes. “Getting sloppy Gordd, or did someone already take out your portal guard?” He inquired to the empty museum before making straight for the entrance. His confusion cleared when he spotted the unconscious pile of gorillas by the double doors, the product of Zatara’s efficient work. They were knocked out cold, and a few of them were groaning, no doubt suffering from minor concussions. Deftly Nightwing swept his fingers over the likely commander noting him for his different colored armor and enormous size. He probed the ape’s ears letting out a triumphant laugh when his efforts produced a communication device.

Screams resounded from outside followed by the unmistakable sounds of laser fire cutting off his short lived jubilation. Depositing the captured radio in a safe pouch Nightwing sprinted for the door only to be knocked down as the earth itself shook under a mighty impact. Windows and glass barriers shattered, sending broken glass and random exhibits tumbling across the museum floor. “Damn heavy hitters.” He muttered regaining his feet only to be sent tumbling from a second earthquake. Someone big just got absolutely rocked he summarized, picking a few stray pieces of glass from his armor. The momentary lull saw a renewal in the laser fire outside, fresh frightened screams rang in Nightwing’s ears as he sprinted to wall. Pressing his back against the structure he took a quick view of the outside situation.

The Supermen were hard pressed, despite the prevalence of superhumans the fighting spilled out in several directions. An unorganized mess of melee and magic and lasers, each hero operating separately of one another. Who led here? Surely the Supermen had a field command and were not relying exclusively on Black Lightning, who was managing at least two different situations from the Watch Tower. The Flash would be the logical choice, this being his home turf and him being the most experienced. Wally might not be the best choice for captain, but he would be managing them better than this. That awful twisting feeling in his gut Nightwing felt every time a friend’s status was unknown during a mission hit him hard, and he fought the urge to vomit. Wally knew how to take care of himself, he was the fastest man alive for crying out loud. He would be fine. Instead Nightwing focused on the mission at hand, most importantly the lone gorilla systematically working his way towards the masked vigilante’s hiding spot.

Wearing a brutish grin, the murderous beast gunned down several fleeing civilians, mocking the way they screamed and squirmed. So invested was he in his rampage the gorilla did not notice the concealed hero until the flashbang capsule exploded in his face. Blinded the ape released a terrible roar, firing wildly in all directions. Not wasting a second Nightwing leapt from his place of concealment preforming a handspring over the monster’s head delivering twin blows to the animal’s cranium using his batons. The gorilla sank, his laser gun going silent as Nightwing grabbed his head and pulled it down violently slamming his armored kneecap directly into the ape’s temple.

The crowd, shocked and slightly blinded by Nightwing’s flashbang themselves struggled to get a good look at the victorious hero. “W-who are you?” One frightened woman asked, shivering despite the day’s warmth. Nightwing did not answer, instead he grabbed the gun disassembling it and scattering the pieces.

“Get the injured and clear the area.” He ordered once he was sure the weapon could not be easily reassembled. When the people hesitated, he raised his voice to a very Batman-esque growl. “Go NOW!” Unfortunately, there was no way to secure the downed gorillas. The zip ties he used on human suspects would be useless, he would just have to hope the head trauma they received would be enough to keep them out of the fight. Drawing his grapple launcher Nightwing waited until the last of the civilians had scattered and went back to the task at hand. Swiftly he scaled the side of Marriott Resort conveniently located across the street from the Flash Museum. Seven years ago he’d been here as a civilian, staying in the fancy resort as Dick Grayson with his best friend Wally West. The two of them wanted to be the first ones through the doors of the museum during its grand opening. Wally, always the troublemaker got them in and out of enough mischief that they were nearly kicked out, but his friend had always been there ready and willing. Nightwing shook the memory away, now as not the time to worry about Wally. He needed to focus.

Every hundred feet he would unhook his grapple line and take a quick survey of the situation on the ground before scaling another length. The climb was like those he had done a thousand times before. Select target, fire, real in, release and repeat. Except even when he ran as Robin with Batman or the Titans, he would rarely attempt this during the day. He felt exposed and vulnerable against the building’s reflective glass. All it would take was one sharp eyed gorilla, and a single well-placed shot.

Surmounting the summit without incident Nightwing rolled onto the roof, laying flat to minimize his profile while he examined the ground situation more thoroughly. The battle raging between Longshadow and Congorilla explained the minor earth shakes he had experienced earlier, Grodd himself seemed to be distracting Superman, but even Nightwing’s bird eye view could only see a small part of the city. “Robin, do you read me?” Nightwing waited, before pressing the earpiece again repeating his request.

A short silence followed and then a slightly static. “Robin here, you’re coming through slightly garbled. Let me find a stronger signal.”

“It’s distance, these radios are good but…” He did not need to explain the sheer mileage involved between Central City and Gotham, even Batman’s radios began to suffer. “Listen, I’ve got a captured enemy communication device here, I’m going to transfer the signal to you. I need you to decrypt the voice lock and transfer the information to Black Lightning. This might be vital, and at the very least it will help us combat the enemy.”

Robin’s response was slow in coming, and even across several hundred miles Nightwing could hear the hesitation in his voice. “I-I’m not sure I can. That is more Oracle’s specialty…”

“Well, Oracle is not available and I’m in the field. So, you’ll have to do it.” Nightwing softened his tone. “You know how, you’ve been taught by the best.”

“Alright,” Nightwing could practically hear the renewed confidence flooding back. “I’ll get that done, fast as I can, anything else?”

“Negative, Nightwing out.” Now for the next item on the list. The vigilante turned his attention to the battle between Longshadow and Congrilla. The two goliaths caused the earth to tremble beneath them at every impact, but more curiously was why they fought in the first place. Patching himself through the Supermen’s communications Nightwing tried to hail the beleaguered Longshadow.

“Longshadow do you read me, this is Nigh-“ He pasued, would Longshadow know him as Nightwing? The hero mentally shrugged, who cared really? If the information got passed along what difference did it make? “This is Nightwing. What is the situation over there, is Congorilla under some sort of mental influence?”