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[Archive] With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Story Only)

Discussion in 'Story Archive' started by Mr Zoat, Jan 30, 2019.

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  1. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    9th August
    22:56 GMT -5


    She removes her hand and I take that as the sign that I should pull back. I run my tongue along my lips. Hm, biscuit crumbs.

    **Why are you KISSING the ASSASSIN?** Artemis is not amused.

    **Her idea. Miss Martian, getting anything good?**

    A pause.

    **Hello Megan! You were trying to distract her!**

    **I like to think I was keeping her attention focused at least a little, yes.**

    **Right! Um, I've got the location of a few League of Shadows safe houses and informants. Nothing that really applies to this mission though.**

    **That's a bit of… of…**

    And now I'm sitting on the ground. Huh? How did that happen? Oh, that's a pretty sign over the road. Wonder if it distracts traffic?


    **Orange Lantern, are you okay?**

    Mind cuddles! I send a mental image of myself as a long fluffy orange snake all coiled around her and constricting in a friendly way. I feel her.. alarm? Why is she alarmed? Can't she see its big smiley snake grin?

    **Artemis, there's something wrong with Orange Lantern!**

    Maybe Martians just don't like snakes. HeEhEeHeE.

    "HeEhEeHeE."

    Oh, Jade's chair's disappeared.

    I wish I had a comfy chair. Sitting up is sooo much effort at the moment. But Jade Jade Jadey Jade doesn’t want to sit?

    That's fine. I'll just lay here.

    Oh look! A stick with a feather. Doesn't look like Jade likes feathers. Maybe it's from a super fast feather delivery company. InterFeather. InterFletcher.

    "Hehehehehe"

    No, I don't wanna get up.

    Whaw, Jadey's a lot stronger than I thought. Being carried around is kind of fun. No more feathers?

    Lots of feathers!

    Ow. She dropped me. She must have been scared of all the feathers chasing her to jump off the building like that.

    My head's dangling right over the edge. Someone really needs to clean that alley.

    And now I'm being picked up again. But no one's touching me.

    Hello M'gann!

    **Hello M'gann!**

    She doesn't look very happy. Maybe she needs more cuddles? Ugh, is she saying something? Everything's a bit….


    "Paul, snap out of it!"

    Ugh?

    **He's been drugged.**

    I can hear Kralder brut can't see? Huh?

    **Artemis has gone after Cheshire.**

    **I don't know what drug she used!**

    **See if you can get him to focus on what's happening. He should be able to use his ring to purge his system.**

    All of the voices?

    "Paul, you need to use your ring."

    Big face? Hand?

    "Come on M'gann, he names his attacks, he told you what he called it. What was it?"

    hfoiedgaspbh25xfjkbcvm,fg[pidgf

    "Rightful…wholeness?"

    Teehee, silly Martian. Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

    "DAMN IT!" I'm on my feet and in the air immediately. M'gann's expression combines surprise with relief. Where's Jade?

    I feel her. Artemis has her at arrowpoint. She's… Talking to her?

    !My target!

    A surge of orange and I interrupt their conversation. Eyes glowing, a swarm of Octopus tentacles projected from my chest yank her off the ground, completely engulfing her.

    I drag her up in front of me. "That. Was rude."

    I feel her pushing against the construct. Is she seriously trying to escape?

    "Stop struggling. I've seen this film, and it doesn't end well for the Asian woman."

    I tighten the construct's grip.

    **Orange Lantern, are you well?**

    **Yes, thank you Aqualad. I'm sorry…sorry about that. I realise it was stupid, but in my defence; poisoned lipstick?**

    "You're choking her."

    "What?" I descend to ground level. Artemis is looking at me like… Is she scared?

    Ring, we're not choking Jade, are we?

    Breathing of the subject is restricted.

    Well, loosen up, then.

    Stated request is contrary to user's desires. Unable to comply.

    Ah, crap.

    "Let her go, now!"

    She's actually got an arrow notched.

    "I'm trying!"

    Okay, I'm angry because I was stupid. Of course she was going to try to escape. I shouldn't have thought otherwise. I shouldn't take it out on her.

    Loosen.

    The tentacles part slightly, and their numbers thin out. She's still being held securely and in some discomfort. I've got one around her mouth for good measure. She takes a deep and slightly panicked breath through her nose.

    Ah, hell with it. ShockCrown.
     
  2. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    10th August
    09:14 GMT -5


    Ten hours, and I still feel stupid about it.

    Robin, Kon and Wallace dealt with Professor Ojo and the Infiltrators easily enough, and the four Shadows have been transferred to a very secure holding facility. Apparently Hook and Spider broke out of a normal transport last time they were arrested and the police have taken it a bit personally. What's left of the Infiltrator control unit after Superboy landed on it is in a secure STAR Labs facility. Green Arrow told me that Red Arrow made sure that he destroyed all of the backup servers when he rescued Doctor Roquette, so that should be that.

    Most of my team mates found my actions to be more amusing than anything. I think Wallace was actually slightly impressed. Kaldur merely described it as 'ill-advised'. Artemis, on the other hand, was livid. Not really sure why. I mean, yes, obviously it was unprofessional and could have gone very badly, but by now? I need to find out what's going on there.

    Batman wants our reports by ten this morning, but mine's already on the system. Rather than mope, or wait for him to tell me things I already know I did wrong, I decided to make a delivery.

    I'm standing outside the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit's headquarters in the New Troy borough of Metropolis City. It also serves as the main police station for this part of the city. I'm in civilian clothing and trying to look harmless. A scan shows me that Sergeant Ramones is on site. Not sure how this sort of thing is supposed to work, so I decided to just walk up to the front desk and ask for him.

    The technology in the MONQIs wasn't anything very exciting by local standards, except for the battery unit. Most of the wrecks we recovered went to STAR Labs, but apparently they didn't need most of the ones I collected. A little work with the ring and I was able to turn a battery and two eyes into a nifty little plasma pistol. I say pistol, but with the variable focus they can match most rifles for range and their power is much greater than commercially available weaponry. I'm keeping a green one and a red one for myself -just in case-, but that still leaves eight green ones that I don't have any use for. Seems like something the SCU could make use of now, not when STAR Labs finishes deciphering how the battery was made.

    Not giving them any red ones. Handing out anti-Kryptonian weapons sounds like a really bad idea. Think maybe I'll give one to Alan?

    I walk up the stone steps and push through the front door. There's a porch area with metal detectors with another set of doors on the far side. As expected, the ring doesn't set them off. Then I'm into the main lobby, and I walk over to the reception desk. The chap manning it looks up from his monitor.

    "Can I help you sir?"

    "I do hope so. I'd like to speak to Sergeant Ramones of the SCU, if that's at all possible."

    "Alright." He reaches for his phone. "If you can give me your name and why you're here?"

    "Orange Lantern, and I have some guns for him."

    He's still for a moment, then sits back and looks irritated. "Why don't you go waste someone else's time?"

    Huh.

    I lay my right hand on the desk, palm upwards, and generate an orange sigil.

    "I appreciate this is a little unusual, but I feel it is worth your time. I met the sergeant on the third while transporting the components of a rather dangerous android to STAR Labs."

    "Oh-! Uh-! Right, sorry!"

    He grabs the phone and starts dialling. I cancel the construct and stand at parade rest.

    "Sergeant Ramones? Front desk here. There's a guy calling himself the Orange Lantern here, says he wants to talk to you." A brief pause while he listens to the reply, then he hangs up. "He'll be down in a minute."

    "Thank you."

    A look around shows me a settee to sit on, along with a table upon which rests a copy of today's Daily Planet and a few magazines. I also spot the security camera, and wave and smile at it when it moves over my face.

    Come here, let's have a read. Anything about that bridge collapse last week? No, too much time's passed for it to be new news and too little for anyone to have a detailed investigation complete yet. Anything by Mister Kent? Yes, something on an ongoing investigation into government corruption. Oh, and an opinion piece by Miss Lane. I'm not going to bother reading it, but given how much her appearance changes in every comic and animated series it's worth remembering her picture.

    There's a bleep as one of the security doors opens. I turn and see the sergeant staring at me. Odd seeing him out of the full armour he had been wearing. Best grin on. "Morning, sergeant!"

    "Hi. Wasn't expecting to see you again any time soon."

    "Had some guns to drop off for you."

    I appear to have left him behind a little. "Where from?"

    "I basically took the MONQI's eyes and power cell and stuck them together. Nothing too complicated. Thought the SCU might want them."

    "Oh, you're donating them. Right. Um, d'you wanna come through? Sykes,-" He turns to the chap at the desk. "-sort him out a visitor's pass, will ya?"

    I fill in my details -apparently writing my name as Orange Lantern is perfectly acceptable- and clip the tag onto my vest. Then I follow the sergeant through the building.

    "The sortsa weapons we use, can't test them in a normal firing range. STAR Labs had to build one special."

    "Makes sense."

    By the time we get there a few other SCU officers are waiting.

    "So, where's the cape?"

    A heavy set bald black guy jerks his chin in my direction.

    "'Where's the cape?' as in, 'where is the superhero?', or 'where's the cape?' as in 'why aren't I wearing one?'?"

    "Didn't know the limeys even had superheroes."

    "I can see this is going to be a productive meeting Mister..?"

    "Corporal Jase."

    "Alright then, corporal. Since I have everyone's attention, I'll begin. This-" I hold out my right hand and call the case with the pistols in forth from subspace. "-is my little gift to the SCU."

    I put it down on a nearby table and open it. Eight pistols sit there, sticking out from the padding in two slightly overlapping rows of four. I pick one up.

    "I made these from parts taken from the monkey robots that Professor Ivo sent after his android. As I'm sure the sergeant has told you, they bored through the armour of the trucks in a few seconds."

    "Can't believe he made them look like monkeys."

    A thin blonde man.

    "They aren't called mad scientists because they're angry. For the purpose of this demonstration, I'll be setting it to.. low.. power-" I turn the rear of the gun in their direction and show them the dial. "-and short range." Another dial. "If either range or power are not selected then the pistol will not fire. This is the safety. If both are selected, then it will fire. Do not pull the trigger accidentally if the safety is not on."

    I walk over to the range itself. "The gun itself is much quieter than most kinetic pistols. On the low energy setting, all you'll hear is a slight sizzle as the air is superheated. On higher settings, there's a slight… Mm, not sure how to describe it. A sort of ringing noise. The beam is quite bright, though not painful to look at for a short time."

    I check the range, then raise the pistol, one hand on the grip and the other supporting the barrel.

    "The beam is not affected by wind speed or gravity. At least, not within its longest effective range. If the range is not set correctly, the beam will strike it in a diffuse manner, and so have a dramatically reduced strength."

    Regular visits to the West Side Pistol and Rifle Range have allowed me to graduate from 'piss poor' to 'not so bad, English'. Hitting the target with this weapon is easy. Three flashes of green light later there are three glowing circles in the centre of the heavy sheet of armour they have as the target.

    "Now, any questions?"
     
  3. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    10th August
    10:25 GMT -5


    "Recognised, Orange Lantern, B zero six."

    Ah, it'd be too long if I changed it.

    I walk to the mouth of the zeta tube and then out into the main area of the base. Wonder Woman, Red Tornado and Batman stop their discussion as they see me.

    Oh, heck.

    "Where have you been?"

    Diana doesn't sound angry, but I'm a little clenched at the moment.

    "Metropolis. I've turned some of the MONQI components into plasma pistols and I wanted to give them to the SCU." I approach to within three metres and then come to parade rest. I turn my head towards Batman. "I'm not late, am I, sir? Usually you take three hours to-."

    He raises a hand to stop me. "I've scheduled the debrief for thirteen hundred hours. And from your report it appears that you are well aware of the serious error in judgement you made."

    I wince slightly, and nod. "Yes… I.. am, sir."

    "Then I see little need to labor the point." I sag slightly with relief. "You may also be pleased to know that Wonder Woman has agreed to take on a greater responsibility for Superboy's training."

    !Is good!

    I nod to her. "Thank you sir."

    "She has also made me aware of a significant breach of League security. By you."

    Oh. That. "Sir, if you've discussed it then you know why-."

    His hand rises again. "Understandable, but still problematic for us. Firstly, I would like to confirm that you actually have the knowledge you claim to."

    "Sir, Wonder Woman gave me an order not to use the name of a League affiliate without their permission or an order from you or her. I can't just… Well, okay, I can just say it, but the consequences are a bit severe."

    Batman's eyes move to Wonder Woman, who nods slightly. "Very well. I order you to say my name. Once."

    I create a barrier around myself and him, and make it as opaque as I can. "Bruce Wayne." I dismiss the barrier.

    He considers for a moment. "I suppose, given the more complex ways in which you use constructs, it was inevitable you would become privy to sensitive data eventually. Have you shared this information with the rest of your Corps?"

    "I don't… Not intentionally, sir. I'm not completely sure how the data transfer works. I… I've been assuming that using Green Lantern's lantern, I'm off the network. Certainly I haven't received any messages. My.. database hasn't been updated either."

    Wait. 'More complex'? Did he just compare me favourably to the League's Greenies?

    A shallow nod. "You had a chance to abuse this information and you didn't take it. I don't believe any further action on my part is necessary."

    Now or never. "Actually, sir... I would appreciate it if you would remove the existing order. I've… Since Wonder Woman made it, I've been dreading the thought that I might say a name and be overheard by someone I didn't know was there, or I might say a name I didn't think was a secret, and violate the order that way. I mean, Kon introduces himself as Kon, but it's his real name and not many people know it. Does that count? Given the penalty I'm looking at…"

    Wonder Woman stiffens slightly. Batman looks at her. "It… Might work like that. This sort of oath is used so infrequently…"

    Back to me. "Consider it removed."

    This version of Batman is much easier to work with than the one in Justice League Unlimited. "Thank you sir. That's quite a relief."

    "One last thing. Considering what happened during your first practice session with Black Canary, I decided that it would be best if we found an additional tutor for you. Someone who could give you training in using your constructs in combat."

    "Sounds sensible, sir. I'm going to assume you aren't referring to Lantern Scott?"

    The zeta tube glows to life behind me. I remain standing where I am and try turning my head to see who's coming through.

    "Recognised, Green Lantern, A zero four, Troia, A zero five."

    Was that Alan's designation? Oh, no, no it isn't.

    That's Guy Gardner. The uniform's different to the incarnations I'm familiar with, and so's his hair. Looks much better, actually. Sleeveless black and green shirt with Green Lantern sigil, black trousers and fingerless gloves. Not sure what they're for. Protection when he punches people? Doesn't look armoured, but compared with some

    He sees me and strides in my direction. I turn to meet him as Diana walks over to greet Donna, who was hovering a touch nervously at the tube mouth.

    "So you're the punk who thinks he's a Lantern."

    Hm. He's not a League member, so he doesn't outrank me. I tilt my head a little to the left. "So you're the idiot who got taken down by a bus."

    "Oooooooooooh." He grins, and cracks his knuckles. "Smart mouth. Let's see how long you can keep that up for."

    "Against someone who's been through Green Lantern training? Quite a while, I should think."

    "Yeah, they told me you think we're a bunch of muscle brains."

    Did I say that? "I don't think I called you all muscle brains."

    "No?" He stretches his neck. "Guess I just take it personal when someone insults my teacher."

    "Your teacher was Kilo-? Oh."

    Poop.
     
  4. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    10th August
    21:46 GMT -5


    I'm still not sure why they believed me when I said that she just 'got away'. It isn't as if I keep the ring's capacities a secret. Maybe they just didn't want to push me while the paramedics were still scraping Black Spider and Hook off the pavement. Had to use the ring to judge their injuries that precisely. Heck, even had to heal Hook a bit. But, the upshot was that Batman didn't really have much to complain about during the debrief.

    Nice to know that I'm not completely dependent on the ring. And that ninja training doesn't somehow make you the equal of someone with actual super powers. Hook looked quite shocked when I caught his weapon in my bare hand. Heh, and then used it to spin him around my head.

    Good day, good day.

    Today's been less… Fun. Productive, though. Researching Jade Nguyen née Crock took a while, as did making sure that I kept up to date with all of her movements. Nice though my augmented body is, I do rather draw crowds when out in public. Fun in Aichi -hah, and rather time-saving- but inconvenient here.

    I was shocked to learn that the League of Shadows keep computer data files on their agents. Poor practice, keeping things like that where just anyone with a power ring could scan it. Once I get round to handing the operatives I caught to Batman, that should get me a place in his good books. Valuable intelligence, too, though I'm making use of it first.

    One of the many nice things about my new skin tone is the camouflage it offers. If I take hold of the ring in the palm of my hand, no light is visible until I choose to use a construct. If I stand in an unlit room, using the ring to breathe for me, then even a fairly alert person might walk right up to me without noticing that I'm there.

    This is the third safe house Jade's been to. I think me shutting down all of the others in the area has left her rather spooked, as well as cutting her off from League of Shadows resources. But, now it's time to make myself known.

    I spent some time staring into her soul, as I held her struggling, helpless form aloft when I fought -I'm being generous there- the three of them. I think I may have a use for her. If she's sensible, it won't be the same use I have for her father. The other two were clearly chaff, but she may yet become wheat for my mill. Her identity is so tied up in her father, in wanting to fight against him… I find myself curious as to what will happen when I tell her what I did to him. She wants to become strong, but the only model of strength she has is that of the man she hates above all others.

    Defining yourself in terms of someone else. So wasteful. Such a diminution of the self.

    I hear her, now. She stopped at this place to check that it was undisturbed before leaving to purchase food. All of the phone numbers she tried failed to reply. I think I might have caused the Shadows' entire American network to go to ground. I hear the crinkle of those paper bags Americans use for groceries. The security on this place wasn’t bad exactly, but it dances to the ring's tune now.

    She's walked past the utility room where I'm waiting, and moved on to the kitchenette. She kept the lights off. I assume she doesn't want to advertise the fact that there's anyone here to those outside. A reasonable measure, if I were a conventional assailant.

    As it is, I form a small platform under each foot and drift after her. I'm standing directly behind her when she puts the bags down on the work surface and flicks on the light.

    "Good evening."

    She's sprinting for the door before the reflexively thrown knife glances off my chest. I hold it shut. Cornered.

    She turns to face me, crouching, kunai in her hands. She looks haggard, as I imagine a beast at bay would look. Not really what I was going for, but I'll take it.

    "I'm sure that you realise by now that those won't work."

    Her eyes are wide, staring. In theory, my own eyes represent the one point of vulnerability she could exploit. In practice, the angle is a very awkward one even without the ring defending me.

    "I appreciate how you feel, you know. Everything you've done, everything you've achieved, and someone like me can just come along and ruin everything."

    "What-? What do you want?"

    "Good question. My objective, is the complete destruction of the League of Shadows. I'm sure you've seen-."

    "It was you! All of them!"

    I allow myself a slight smile. "Yes, yes it was. But there lies the problem. I can only act when I have information-."

    "I won't tell you anything."

    She's shaking a little.

    "Jade, I already know everything you know. Now, I want to make you an offer. Once you've heard me out, I'll leave you in as much peace as you're likely to get. I want you to return to the Shadows. I want you to continue your work for them. Then, one day, when I'm ready, I will destroy the entire organisation. And you, you will give me the information which I will need to ensure that none of its members escape me. Then, once your comrades are no more, I'll aid you in starting a new life, away from all this unpleasantness."

    "They'll know. They'll kill me if I make a deal with you."

    "Then tell them. Simply tell Ra's, or the Sensei, or whoever asks what I asked of you. Have a laugh at my foolishness. If I die or otherwise fail, you've lost nothing."

    She looks like she's getting a better grip of herself. Hmm.

    "He tried to deal, you know." Eyes narrow. "Your father, I mean. Implied that things would go badly for me if I didn't let him escape."

    "If you're planning to pay him back, you're in the wrong place."

    [​IMG]

    "You don't know the half of it, little girl."

    The Sportsmaster Construct-Lantern materialises next to where she left the shopping. No orange beam connects us, though I don't imagine that she knows the significance of that fact. He's been quite useful as both an information source and as a provider of training. Black Canary just doesn't teach certain things which I want to know.

    Jade flicks her eyes at it, before dismissing it. "It's just another one of your constructs."

    "'Fraid not, Little Girl. Orange Lantern here doesn't believe in killing useful people. Doesn't mean he always makes them an offer like you're getting."

    "Would you like me to make him dance for you? Sing? Pretend to be a dog? His mind is more or less intact, but his desires are completely subservient to mine."

    She lowers her knives, slightly. "You… You killed him."

    "In a manner of speaking. We met on Santa Prisca, while he was trying to recover an enhanced form of Venom. Which I used. Potent stuff." I make a show of examining my right arm, turning my hand to watch the muscles move under the slabs of armoured flesh. "Jade, I'm trying to alter the world for the better, and I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty to do it. I would very much like you to be a part of the change. This man-" I look at the partially late Mister Crock. "-shouldn't define you. You shouldn't let your feelings toward him limit your own potential for growth. I can, and will, give you opportunities that the Shadows can only dream of."

    I extend my right hand towards her.

    "Will you join me?"
     
  5. Threadmarks: Acceptance
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    Acceptance

    27th July
    06:12 GMT -5


    This early in the morning I don't think it's much of a risk to just fly to Alan's house, as long as I don't land in his garden or something. A quick look around to make sure there's no one in the immediate vicinity, and I land in a woodland in Isham Park before switching to civilian clothing.

    I still don't know what he wants. He actually sent the message directly via the ring, rather than using the secure comm line. I knew that it was possible to do that from the comics and the animated series, but I had assumed it was intra-Corps only. Guess I was wrong about that. Unusual way to get woken up, particularly given that he said it wasn't that important, but I owe Alan a lot and if he wants me to visit early in the morning without telling me why, that's what I'm going to do.

    I tense slightly when I see the expensive looking black car parked outside Alan's house, with a man whom I assume to be the chauffeur leaning against the bonnet reading a newspaper.

    Ring?

    No weapons detected.

    Where's Alan?

    I see his living room. He's sitting in the same chair he sat in when we first met. Another, more weather-beaten old man sits opposite. They're holding an animated discussion, but it seems to be good humoured. I don't recognise-.

    The hell? He just turned to look at me, my perspective point on the image. I'm not even how is what?

    Returning my full concentration to my surroundings, I pass the car, jog up the drive and open the door.

    "He makes pretty good time, too."

    The other man's voice.

    I move down the corridor at stride-pace and open the door to the living room. Alan and whoever… Kent Nelson? Fate? Oh. Both turn their heads to look at me. Alan's in his standard shirt and jeans, but Mister Nelson's in a full suit. A walking stick is propped up against the settee. He lacks Alan's vigour, but he still looks good for a man of one hundred and six.

    "Alan. Mister Nelson. Where's the fire?"

    Mister Nelson lowers his head slightly, a wry smile on his lips.

    Alan shrugs. "Paul, I said that it wasn't all that important. If you were still asleep-."

    "I was woken up by a giant orange head coming out of the ring."

    He pauses for a moment. "Uh, I didn't mean for it to be giant."

    "I'm lucky there was no one in the room above me. The top half of your head was projected through the ceiling. I just saw a giant chin. Didn't even realise it was you to start with."

    "Oh. Sorry about that."

    "No, it's fine. I hadn't even realised that I could communicate with Green Lanterns that way. I'll have to see about prank calling Lantern Jordan or something."

    Mister Nelson shuffles forward to the edge of his seat before rising to his feet. He offers me his right hand, and I shake it. He barely comes up to my shoulders, but his gaze is clear and slightly fierce, the mouth set of a man familiar with disappointment. His hand is cold, and bony.

    "I was surprised when Alan told me he'd taken on an apprentice."

    "I think I was a surprise to him as well."

    "Wouldn't have worked in our day. No computer databases for your ring to sift through. Though I can see things like that'll be a problem, going forwards."

    I turn and sit on the chair underneath the window. Mister Nelson gingerly lowers himself back into the settee.

    "I wanted you to meet Kent while he was in the city. He's heading to the airport to catch a flight down to New Orleans in half an hour."

    The older man smiles slightly. "Always happy to catch-."

    "Kent! You! The scrying pool."

    He looks at me quizzically. "I'm sorry kid, but you're going to have to be a bit more coherent than that."

    "When I went to Themyscira. Diana told me that someone called 'Kent' created a scrying pool for her to communicate with home, back in the forties. I hadn't-" I wiggle my right index finger back and forth. "-made the connection between that and you until just now."

    "Oh! I remember that thing. Must have taken weeks to get the darn thing to focus properly. Was worth it though, to see the smiles on her and her mother's faces."

    "Did you ever try creating any others? I'd have thought that long distance communication with coloured images would have been very impressive, compared to nineteen forties technology."

    He shakes his head. "It wouldn't have worked. Magala and I needed to be on hand at either end to keep it working when they wanted to speak as it was. There just weren't enough magic users around in those days to build a network." He sighs. "There's even less, today."

    Magala?

    "Don't the Atlanteans teach magic? Aqualad seemed to imply that it was fairly common where he's from."

    "It's the wrong style, the wrong sort of approach. But, if things keep going as they are, I might need to hire an aqualung after all."

    Alan nods at him. "Kent's going to-."

    I hold up my hands. "Don't tell me, don't tell me! I've been practising this." I take a deep breath, and close my eyes. Ring, Ophidian's Eyes.

    M'gann tells me that this application of the orange light makes my irises look like those of a snake, with glowing orange vertical slits. I can't see it myself, because it replaces my normal vision with images of the desires of whoever I look at, and mirrors don't want things. I know the Greenies can't do this.

    I turn to Mister Nelson, and I'm assaulted by images. A woman… His wife? The Helm of Fate. A tower. An idea… There's no image, but I can feel-.

    "That's about enough of that, I think." My vision returns to normal. Mister Nelson's raised his right hand in a 'halt' gesture, a golden glowing ankh floating just in front of it. "Young man, looking into someone's soul isn't something you should do so casually."

    Souls are a thing here?

    "Oh. Sorry, I didn't think that was what it did."

    I flick my eyes towards Alan. And get a shock. Mister Nelson didn't turn the Eyes off, he just blocked them from working on himself. And now I know exactly why Alan wanted me to have his lantern.

    "Ring, end."
     
  6. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    27th July
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    "You really didn't think calling up an elemental to take a look at a person's desires didn't involve looking into their soul?"

    I'm still a bit stunned, and take a moment to respond. "Um, no. The Ophidian is the embodiment of avarice. I thought… By the time a desire became part of him, it had been.. sort of.. projected? That it wasn't still in the person. So I'd be more looking at it than into whoever I was looking at."

    He closes his hand, the ankh collapsing into gold flecks before completely fading. "I'll let you off, but that really isn't how it works." He turns to Alan. "Alan, you've still got a copy of my old book on elemental summoning, don't you?"

    "Yeah?"

    "Give it to Snake-Eyes here after I'm gone. I think he's going to need it." He turns back to me. "So? Tell me. What did you see?"

    "Succession. The tower, and the Helm of Fate. You want an apprentice."

    He smiles, and shakes his head. "No, I'm too old for an apprentice."

    He pulls his pocket watch out of his pocket and opens it. Not sure why, there's a perfectly good wall clock.

    "I need someone who can take over the whole thing, as soon as possible. I don't have all that much time left. And now, my best chance is to go down to Louisiana and talk to someone who's probably going to turn out to be another carnival huckster." He puts the watch away. "Offered it to Zatara first, but he didn't want it. Can't say I blame him. Working with Nabu isn't exactly the most pleasant experience in the world. All the others I've spoken to, they either felt the same way, or just didn't have what it takes. Now I spend most of my time chasing rumours. Still, I'm glad to meet you. If Alan can get someone to take up his lantern, then there's hope for me yet."

    Think. Think. Adult magic users he could give it to. Only one name comes to mind. "Did you ever consider John Constantine?" I've done some research on him. Paper records aren't as easy to look through with a power ring as electronic ones, but it can still be done. What I've been able to get -including witness testimonies from the incident which sent him to Ravenscar- appears to match my recollection of the comics. To completely confirm I'd have to track down the other people who were there, and that certainly won't be easy.

    He glowers at me. "No."

    "Wait, you actually know who he is?"

    "Yes, and I'd prefer my heir to have a slightly lower body count. And not to have spent any time in a secure mental institution."

    "I'm sure you know as well as I do that sometimes, in this line of work, deaths are not avoidable. And as far as I know he's fully recovered, mentally."

    Mister Nelson looks away, grimacing. "Do you know what he did to get sent there? How many people died in the Casanova Club Massacre?"

    Wait. He's blaming Constantine for Newcastle? I checked that stuff bloody thoroughly, and nothing I could find indicated any deviation from what I remember.

    "Yes, and apparently I know it rather better than you do. John Constantine and his colleagues arrived at the Casanova Club after the majority of deaths had already happened. As you say, there aren't that many magic users around these days, and they'd heard that the owner, one Alexander Logue, was one of them. When they got inside they found his ritual space a charnel house, the only one unharmed his daughter, Astra Logue. Upon further investigation, it turned out that she'd been sexually abused by her father's entire cult, for years. And when they brought her to their latest 'party', she snapped, and somehow managed to summon some sort of.. dukh… The witness reports I read described it as looking like a giant, inside out dog. Constantine decides that the only way to destroy such a creature is to summon and bind a demon of their own, but he makes a mistake during the ritual and rather than a weak, pliant demon bound to their will they manage to get Nergal, with no bindings in place at all. Nergal kills the dog thing, more for his own amusement than anything else, knocks Constantine around a bit, then drags Astra physically into hell. Constantine tried to pull her back, but just gets one of her arms through the portal before Nergal closes it, slicing it off. John Constantine was then remanded to Ravenscar Secure Hospital, where the guards took turns in beating him. For two years. I know he messed up, and you can be bloody sure he does, but I think at this point he's served his time. And I know all this because I actually investigated it, rather than doing what the police did in grabbing a mentally ill witness and blaming the whole thing on him."

    "The police…"

    "The police aren't trained to deal with stuff like that! Most of them don't even believe that magic is real. They just decided that the whole group were lying, despite the fact that their testimonies corroborated each other. The only reason Constantine went down for it was because he was still holding her severed arm when the police arrived."

    "Paul, take it easy." Alan's voice. I'm standing. I'm standing over Mister Nelson. I didn't really think about getting up. I got so angry I just…

    Breath out. Step back. Sit down. "I'm sorry. I think I got a bit carried away there."

    I can't read Mister Nelson's expression. He's not exactly happy about my outburst, that's plain. But I think he's thinking about it. "That's alright. Things like that will make any decent man angry." He considers it some more. "You understand, I'll have to check everything you've said for myself. But if it pans out, then once I get back from Louisiana I'll probably be travelling to London next."

    "Thank you."

    "I'm not saying that I'll choose him. Even if the Casanova Club wasn't his doing, I've still heard a lot of bad things about John Constantine."

    "A lot of them are probably true. He's intelligent, cunning, and by now he's experienced. But he's not particularly powerful, and he's had to fight things that are. He's had to choose a lot of… 'least bad' options."

    A nod. He looks a little like he's sizing me up. "You know, when Alan said that your ring was powered by avarice, I imagined that you'd be rather different."

    "I get that a lot. But having seen what happened to the head of my Corps, I have no desire to be consumed by the orange light."

    "Not interested in taking up the mantle of Fate yourself?"

    Alan interjects. "Hey, he's my apprentice. Hands off!"

    "Heh, no, sir. As far as I know magic doesn't even exist in my parallel. I know only what I've read about it since getting here."

    He frowns at that, then waves his right hand in front of his face. When it passes, his eyes glow white. Then it's his turn to be shocked. He jerks back, blinks, and his eyes return to normal.

    "My God…"

    Did he just see the Ophidian? I bloody hope not. "Give it to me straight, doctor. How long do I have?"

    He shakes his head. "You're not ill. That wasn't what I was looking for." He takes a moment, organising his thoughts. "Are you a religious man?"

    "Hah. Hardcore Dawkinsian atheist, me."

    "I'm.. not sure what that means."

    "Richard Dawkins? British biologist and atheist philosopher?" Blank looks from both Alan and Mister Nelson. "Guess he doesn't exist in this parallel. No, I don't believe in gods."

    "Hate to break it to you kid, but I've spoken to several gods who would probably take issue with that."

    "You've spoken to jumped up elementals with delusions of grandeur. There are no gods."

    A pause, as he considers what I said. "Interesting way of looking at it. Well, since you asked me to be blunt; the world is full of magic. Even if they don't train at it, virtually everyone has some magic as part of them. In layman's terms, their soul."

    I can see where this is going. "And I don't have one. Because I come from a place where magic doesn't exist."

    "That would be my guess. I've seen a few people like that before, but they were the victims of magic attacks, and they didn't live very long afterwards."

    I don't know what to think. If I've never had one, then nothing's changed. Be practical. "What does that mean for me?"

    "In the short term, because as far as magic is concerned there's no definition for 'you', you'll have no resistance to magic effects at all. Alan told me about what happened when you went to the Temple of Gaea."

    Ah, hell.

    "You can expect that sort of thing to happen whenever you spend time in an area of high background magic."

    Ah, hell.

    "You'll also be much more vulnerable to offensive magic than most, although your ring shields should be unaffected."

    "Any advice?"

    "I'm afraid not. I've… I've never seen anything quite like it. It may well be that you'll start to develop one naturally, now that you're in a universe that has magic in it. Or, it could be that you just don't have the right, for want of a better word, the right 'parts' for it."

    "No, I mean practical advice. I will be fighting magic users at some point."

    His hand goes to his chin as he ponders the idea. "You might be able to get hold of some sort of artifact that could shield you. Ah, if I had a couple of months I could probably put one together myself, but…"

    "You don't have time. Don't worry, I understand. I'm sure I can sort something out."
     
  7. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    15:59 GMT -5


    Belle Reve is not easy to reach on foot.

    For very good reasons, it's a long way from anything else, and I decided that just flying right in would not be polite. Though the anti-aircraft guns, missiles, and soldiers on guard duty don't pose much of a threat to me, I want to make it clear that I am cooperating as much as possible. League records state that this place has a brute force teleportation jammer and that Giovanni Zatara warded the grounds against magic attack. Superman himself tested the strength of the walls.

    They really should have asked the Lanterns to help out with it as well.

    I land about three hundred meters from the first checkpoint, and switch to my suit. Just to complete the professional image I've added an Orange Lantern Corps tie and belt buckle. Or maybe those make me look like a prat. The guards on duty in the booth can clearly see me, and I did phone ahead to arrange this. The road up to the entrance is completely straight, and I can see where the trees on either side have been cut back to clear fields of vision.

    Hands in my pockets, I start to walk.

    The fact that I phoned ahead is most likely why they aren't scrambling to assemble a squad at the outer gate. I timed things so that I could get here just after normal visiting hours. I don't want to disrupt things if I can help it. I also don't want to get marked out by the harridan who runs the place: Amanda Waller. Unlike in the comics she came up through the FBI, rather than the CIA. She specialised in metahuman crime and containment, and this prison is her baby.

    I considered the comic and Justice League Unlimited versions of her utterly loathsome, her paranoia causing suffering on a scale most supervillains only dream about. Here, she doesn't appear to have done anything of that sort, though I get the impression she doesn't like superheroes all that much. You'd have thought that she'd be resigned to us existing by now, given that it's been seventy years since the formation of the Justice Society and how -aside from a blip during the Second World War- the American government has never had direct control over its caped population.

    As I get closer I smile and wave with my right hand at the guards. They don't wave back, but the nearest does nod before picking up a phone handset. Checking that I have authorisation, presumably. There are fortified watchtowers just inside the perimeter, but the outer gate is merely mildly military in appearance. Three armed police accompanied by two Alsatians pass in front of me. I get a couple of strange looks, but a friendly smile and a wave seem to reassure them. I have an existence on official paperwork, but I'm not active enough in the open to be recognised by the general public.

    The chap on the phone lowers it as I step in front of the booth. The woman next to him looks me over with a slightly incredulous expression.

    "What, no costume?"

    "I didn't really think it was appropriate."

    Surprise. "Didn't realize you'd be English."

    Best fake Carolinian accent.

    "I don't rightly know why folks keep makin' that mistake. Ah was born in Raleigh, North Carolina."

    She splutters with laughter. Fellow next to her just looks slightly confused. "Identification, please."

    Diana gave me a 'Justice League Affiliate' photo ID. All it really means officially is that I'm helping them with an investigation. It has my picture, title and identification number, as well as a couple of authentication devices that are quite sophisticated by Earth standards. It also has the phone number of the Themysciran embassy in case they want to check. Legally, it means bugger all for me, but the League's deal with the UN includes the right to interrogate prisoners held by signatory nations, and places an obligation on those nations to allow it. There are get-outs, but for the most part even people like Waller don't make a fuss about it.

    I place the ID on the indicated spot, and the panel swivels to take it inside. I then start playing 'spot the camera', but give up when I get to twelve. He looks at the card, and runs it through a scanner. In the distance to my right I can see the squat mass of the prison itself. Looks like a giant upturned bowl of concrete, though I know it's more sophisticated than that. Between here and there just off the main road sits a medium sized rectangular building next to which sits a vehicle that looks like a cross between a bus and an armoured van.

    "Reason for visit."

    Back to my natural accent. "Following up on a case with an inmate, one Jade Nguyen. Is inmate the proper term if they're awaiting trial, but haven't been convicted?"

    "If they're inside, they're an inmate."

    "You're the expert. So.. can I go in?"

    He hands the card to the female guard, who takes a look, visually comparing me to the image. Is this some sort of intimidation thing? That photo was only taken four days ago, and my face doesn't change.

    She hands the card back to her male cohort, who puts it on the swivel plate and returns it to me. "Keep it handy; they'll want to see it again at the main gate."

    The male guard picks up the phone again, and a moment later there's a buzz and the small pedestrian side gate opens. As I step through I take a look at the distance to the prison.

    "Is it going to wind everyone up if I fly there? Just along the ground, I mean."

    The female guard smiles. "This is a no-flights zone, 'Orange Lantern'. But, the bus bringing the regular visitors should be coming this way in a minute or two. Head on up to the sheep dip building over there and you can catch a lift back."

    "Why would the bus stop there?"

    "We have to search everyone before they leave, then we move them onto another bus in case they had anything stowed away. Can't be too careful. The prison-side bus can give you a lift back to the prison. Warden doesn't want you here any longer than you have to be."

    I renew my smile. "I understand her attitude completely. Thank you for your assistance."

    I give a shallow bow, then turn and continue walking. There appear to be two rings of thin rectangular watchtowers, one a hundred or so metres out from the walls of the prison, and the other just inside the outer fence. I can see gun turrets both in the manned section at the top, and another set of turrets which must either be camera controlled or automated positioned about a third of the way down.

    Ah. Those ones are tracking me. I give them a nervous wave, and make sure that my environmental shield is still in place. I'm not completely convinced that it could hold off weapons of that calibre at its current near-invisible level.

    The 'sheep dip' building is only thirty metres inside the outer fence. I decide to wait leaned up against the wall on the prison side. I can see the bus leaving the prison gate now. The gate is a huge thing which rises up inside the outer wall when open. Hmm. Doesn't look that secure. Wouldn't some sort of turntable arrangement be better?

    Out of curiosity I give today's visitors a look over. The ring identifies them all easily, but most only have a single line of text in Justice League files describing their relationship to the inmate. A few have minor convictions, but nothing that really warrants my attent-.

    Hello, I know you.

    Lisa Snart, better known to the world at large and the skating community in particular as Lisa Star. Better known to me as the sister of Leonard Snart, aka Captain Cold. I check, but there doesn't appear to be anything untoward about her visit. Her Golden Glider identity doesn't exist here and her record is completely clear. Social service records from Central City appear to indicate that their father's abusive behaviour does carry over from the comics. A real shame, that whole situation.

    Ooh, you've got more than a line of text. Hello, Huntress.
     
  8. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    16:08 GMT -5


    The bus has wheelchair access at the back, but the guard decides to be an arsehole and get everyone else off and into the building first, leaving her sitting there. The access is probably how they got prisoners who couldn't be allowed to move under their own power on and off before this armoured van was repurposed as a bus.

    "Can I give you a hand there?"

    She looks up from her lap, taking me in without altering her facial expression. "Ah, well, if you wouldn't mind..?"

    She looks over at the control mechanism for the lift. It's too far behind her for her to reach and still be on the lift. Eh. My construct picks her up by her wheelchair and softly places her on the tarmac.

    "Oh…"

    She's in her late forties now, but she was really quite attractive as a younger woman. She's been out of prison for under three weeks and I just got her daughter arrested. And her husband. I should probably talk to her.

    I smile. "Good afternoon, Missus Crock."

    Heck, she probably spent her six year sentence… ah. No, I suppose her injuries would have made that unnecessary.

    I wonder if Jade mentioned me?

    "Orange Lantern two eight one four, at your service." She's looking at me more carefully now. There's a wariness to it. "It is Crock, right? Jade said she was using your maiden name..?"

    I didn't even think about… Yep, Lawrence Crock's in the prison up ahead. Would she have been visiting him?

    "How do you know my daughter?"

    Sharper. How do I explain it..? Right index finger raised I open my mouth, then close it. Full explanation, probably unwise.

    "I… Kind of arrested her. I mean, I don't actually.. have.. powers of arrest on Earth, so, detained until the police arrived?"

    She blinks. "Oh."

    I point to the prison with both index fingers. "You.. were visiting her, right? 'Cause-."

    "Yes. Yes I was." She nods, then looks away. "Why are you here?"

    'Because I wanted to apologise for nearly throttling your daughter to death' probably isn't the right answer.

    "Well, I know that recidivism rates are lower for inmates with good social networks outside prison. I… I guess most people Jade knows are with the League of Shadows and I don't think they're a good influence, so.. I thought I'd… Y'know.. try and help? I mean, she might not even be in all that long."

    That surprised her. She's looking me right in the eyes. She's probably quite a good judge of character, but it's a skill that's wasted on me. I wasn't exactly complex before getting the ring, and I've even less motive for subterfuge now. Want to do it, do it.

    I give her a smile. She considers. "I'm not sure she'll want to talk to you."

    I shrug. "Doesn't really cost me anything. But we did.. sort of.. have a conversation before I knocked her out."

    "You knocked my daughter out?"

    "Urm…" Didn't think that through. "W.. well, technically the construct I used just paralysed her. It's pretty much the lowest level of force I can use to end a fight. And she used poisoned lipstick on me first!"

    Maybe shouldn't have mentioned that. Oh, no, she doesn't seem bothered.

    "Poisoned lipstick." She shakes her head slightly. "That takes me back."

    "Hey!"

    Oh, the guard's back. As he stomps toward me rifle in hand I hold out my identification card. He snatches it out of my hand and glowers at it. I risk a slight smile. I want to seem friendly and helpful, but not smirky and irritating.

    "Oh, it's you. You missed visiting hour."

    "The Warden was kind enough to agree to allow me to conduct an interview outside of normal visiting hours."

    He glares at me. Is that eyeballing? For goodness sake, I'm taller than you, more muscular, and I have a power ring. How scary do you think you are?

    He thrusts the card back at me. I take it.

    "Thank you."

    He turns his attention back to Mrs Crock. Oh, you better not…

    "Ma'am, if you could come with me please?"

    Huh. I guess it's just me he has a problem with, then.

    She puts her hands on her chair's wheels and pushes a quarter turn, then stops them and turns her head to me.

    "Orange Lantern, thank you. I don't want my daughter taking the same path that I did, and I'm grateful for what you're trying to do."

    "It's not a problem."

    A slight nod, and she resumes wheeling herself towards the building, the guard in tow.

    Right. Bus.

    I walk around to the door at the front. The woman I assume to be the driver is standing outside, talking to another armed guard.

    "Excuse me?"

    "Through there."

    She points to the building. Oh, for goodness sake. Light armour.

    "I'm not visiting. I'm conducting an interview. I've already presented my authorisation, but here it is again anyway." I wave my card at them. "I'd very much appreciate a lift up to the prison. I've rather picked up that I'm here on sufferance, and I suspect that the Warden would rather I got in, conducted my business and left, as soon as possible. Can you help me?"

    Surprise. They look at each other for a moment, and the guard indicates with a slight inclination of his head that it's her decision. "Yeah, of course."

    "Thank you. I appreciate it."

    I turn back and step aboard the bus.
     
  9. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    16:17 GMT -5


    I'm sitting in the seat just behind and to the left of the driver. The bus has actual seats, rather than the benches which the prisoner transports have. I suppose it's from the space they save stripping out the power suppression tech. I'm slightly curious about whether or not those collars would work on a power ring. Maybe they couldn't block if I was wearing it, but could prevent me summoning it? If the Greenies haven't volunteered to be guinea pigs, I'm not breaking ranks.

    The main door opens with a very loud whirring, and we pull into the middle of an open area inside the prison.

    "Looks like the Warden wants to speak with you."

    A look out of the windows on the opposite side shows a stern looking Amanda Waller flanked by two guards. Unlike the other guards I've seen, they have full body armour and plasma guns.

    Why plasma? Surely coil guns are easier to make?

    I get up, suit up and step off the bus to meet her.

    "That's close enough." Waller's voice. I stop, having just stepped around the side of the bus. The two guards have their guns levelled at my chest. I really couldn't take a shot from those with my shield at its current strength, so I strengthen it into visibility. The guards tense slightly as I do this, but return to normal when nothing else happens. "Check him."

    Another guard, similarly armoured, runs forward. In place of a gun she carries what looks like a hand held metal detector. I hold out my identification card, but this is ignored. She runs the metal detector thing over my legs, torso, arms and finally around my head. Then she steps back.

    "Sorry Warden, can't scan through his shield."

    "Hmpf."

    "Is there some sort of problem?"

    "Yeah. You, in my prison."

    Sigh.

    "Warden Waller, I want to talk to one woman, for an hour at most. Then, I'm out of your hair. I don't want to cause any trouble."

    This version of Waller isn't as fat as the others I am aware of. Her hair is tied back into a tight ponytail. Mine was like that, before I came here. I had thought that I liked it, but if it didn't survive the ring transforming me I must have been less keen than I thought I was.

    "Fine."

    The guns are lowered, and I reduce my shield strength. Waller motions forward a man behind her.

    Okay. This guy actually is a little intimidating.

    "Assistant Deputy Warden Bendemann. Show him to the prisoner."

    He catches my eye. "If you'll follow me please?"

    He leads me to a blast door, then places his right hand on a palm scanner. A glowing line moves from the top to the bottom, before the device chirps and confirms him. His name -Bendemann, A- and his rank appear at the bottom of the scanner. Next, he leans forward and peers into a device that somewhat resembles the fifty-pence-to-operate binoculars that I remember occupying seaside viewpoints during my youth. Haven't seen them for a while. Lastly, he raises his hand to his personal communicator.

    "ADW Bendemann, moving to corridor adjacent to visitor room B, one guest."

    A moment, a clunk, and then the blast door slides to the side. Gosh, that's thick.

    He steps forward into the corridor. It's narrow, and lined with metal. At the other end is another door like the one he just passed. Can't see anything dangerous. I walk after him, and the door closes once I'm through.

    For a moment, I feel a slight.. pressure..? On my shield. Doesn't seem to be an attack. "So, do you have to talk to a control room to get through every door?"

    He looks back at me. "No. Just the ones leading to either a high security zone or an external door. The control room's off-site, so even if the prison got completely taken over, the inmates couldn't open the doors."

    "Well, I'm impressed."

    He doesn't smile, but his face does take on a slightly satisfied air.

    Then the alarms go off.

    "Blaarp blaarp blaarp blaarp blaarp blaarp blaarp blaarp …"

    The ring adds noise filters to my ears, but Bendemann's still getting the full volume. He pulls his communicator up to his mouth with his right hand and covers his left ear with his left. "God damn it, what..! Well of course it doesn't work on him, you think he couldn't..! Yes, of course you-" The alarms cut off. "-should… Thank you."

    He puts the communicator back on his belt, and snorts derisively. "Usually we scan everyone going in. Obviously, you're blocking it, and Control decided to be a bunch of circle jerkers and follow the normal procedure. I'll have words with whoever's supposed to be supervising them later."

    "Thank you. Um, you know that compared to the ring, any other weapon I'm carrying is more or less decoration, right?"

    "Yeah. I've seen Green Lantern in action."

    "Which one? I'm being tutored by two of them."

    "The black guy." He places his palm on the scanner for the next door.

    "You know, he's the only one I haven't actually met yet."

    I haven't had a proper conversation with Lantern Jordan, but we've been in the same place a couple of times. I think I make him uncomfortable. Maybe I should ask Lantern Gardner about how the Corps is responding to me.

    Iris recognition next, then the communicator.

    "ADW Bendemann, moving to visitor room B, one guest."

    The door opens, and grants us access to a large oblong room, divided in two by a wall below and a clear screen from waist height. On either side of the screen is a line of bare metal chairs, fixed to the floor, with dividers separating them into cubicals. On the visitor side is a telephone handset, while on the inmate side a speaker and microphone are built into the dividing wall.

    In addition to the Assistant Deputy Warden, there is another armed and armoured guard on this side, and two on the prisoner side. Jade hasn't been brought through yet. Or should that be brought back through? It isn't all that long since she spoke to her mother. I was half expecting them to have left her here. I have a quick look around, then walk over and take the seat opposite the prisoner side door. And here I thought I'd get a nice interview room or something. I'll have to ask if this is standard, or if the Warden's just being truculent.

    The security here looks pretty good. One of their proudest boasts -and one which I've learned that they repeat to every new inmate- is that Superman can't break through their walls. That may be true, though I suspect that he could given time, but all of these electronics are child's play to a power ring. If one of these people ever gets selected by a ring, they're in big trouble. Even the stuff that isn't accessible without tearing through the armoured walls can be manipulated remotely with these things, and off the top of my head I can't think of a way to prevent it. Maybe, some sort of enchantment? But that would mean messing about with the general purpose wards. Some sort of telepathic network, like the Genomorphs?

    The guards on the prisoner side become more alert, and I hear a buzz as the door unlocks, then slides open.
     
  10. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    Jade comes out first. There are chains around her ankles and wrists, and those chains are linked together with more chain. She's wearing an orange jumpsuit, and her hair's straight and tied back. She looks different, in the light.

    She scans the room. I raise my left hand and give a royal wave. She blinks in confusion, then staggers forward a pace as the guard behind her pushes her out. She glances back and for a second forms a half-snarl, before biting it down and walking over to the chair across from mine.

    "Afternoon Jade."

    The guard who escorted her takes up station next to the door. We aren't getting privacy, but at least we can pretend they aren't listening to everything we say.

    She regards me blankly for a moment. "I didn't expect to see you here."

    No real life in her voice as she says it. I suppose it doesn't pay to wear your heart on your sleeve in a place like this.

    "Turns out, I can request an interview with any prisoner I want." I put the tips of the three central fingers of my right hand against the screen. "Biscuit?"

    I'm not completely happy with my latest triple chocolate batch, but from what I remember prison food is usually fairly bad. The biscuit appears from subspace on the other side of the screen, and she stares at it for a moment.

    "Jade, it's no more poisoned than the last one was."

    "Why are you here?"

    Her face hasn't really changed, but there's a definite edge to her voice. Okay, let's just say it.

    "I wanted to apologise. I feel that I used excessive force to bring you down at the end, and I certainly shouldn't have said… What I said. I did it, because I was very angry about the poisoned lipstick thing, but I should never have let you get into a position where you could use it. My own.. inexperience…"

    Her face has shifted slightly, though I'm not sure whether it's to confusion or incredulity. "What did you say?"

    "You didn't hear?"

    "I was too busy trying not to suffocate."

    "Oh. Um, then, does it really matter?"

    "You came here because of it."

    Stern, this time. Now I'm blushing. My eyes drop. "Um, alright. It was something like, 'Stop struggling, I've seen this film and it doesn't end well for the Asian woman'."

    She blinks, incredulous.

    "I know, I'm sorry, it was a disgusting thing to-."

    "Hahahahahahahahaha!"

    …and breathe out.

    I roll my eyes.

    "Well, if I'd known you were going to find it funny…"

    A genuine smile. I think. "Are you even allowed to watch that kind of movie?"

    For a horrifying moment I imagine Diana walking in on me watching La Blue Girl. Would she count as a strong female protagonist..? No, no, don't think about it.

    "Probably not encouraged to, no."

    She breaks off part of the biscuit with her right hand, and puts it into her mouth. She crunches down, and chews. "You know, I thought you were just trying to get information out of me. But this is actually how you are, isn't it?"

    She could have waited until she'd swallowed to say that? Eww.

    "Yes, pretty much. I mean, we were trying to get information out of you as well."

    She stops chewing for a moment. "The Martian."

    "Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean they're not there. Counting pi was working, mostly." I shrug. "Sorry."

    She shakes her head. "Ugh, no, I should have kept my guard up. And don't worry about the… The tentacles." She suppresses another laugh. "I've been hit worse in training than you hit me. How were you still moving?"

    "What, 'cause of the poison? The ring could easily remove-."

    "No, while it was still affecting you. I thought you'd either shrug it off or fall over. As it was I had to jump off the roof to avoid about a hundred orange arrows flying at me."

    "I.. don't.. remember that bit too clearly. I think I meant them as a gift, but I was pretty out of it."

    Another biscuit fragment.

    "A gift."

    She's worse than my granddad was.

    "I sort of focused on how pretty the feathers on Artemis' arrows were. Artemis, that's the blonde with the bow you were talking to just before I caught up with you."

    Quizzical. "Are you supposed to tell me her name?"

    Eh? "Come on, that's not her real name, is it? Who's going to actually name their daughter Artemis? An Amazon?"

    Oh. I think that biscuit went down the wrong way.

    "So, anyway, to my drug addled brain, you avoiding her arrows meant that you didn't like them, so I needed to make prettier ones."

    "The, the <cough>, the drug is supposed to work within a few seconds."

    "I was enjoying our conversation, so the ring worked to keep me awake. Since it didn't occur to me that a drug could be administered that way, I didn't tell the ring to guard against it, and once it started affecting my mental state I mostly stopped caring. One of my team mates had to prompt me to get me to cleanse my system."

    "Isn't that a pretty big weakness?"

    "Yes, it is. So I'm actually grateful that I found out about it fighting you. You know, rather than someone who could actually threaten me." A brief scowl from her. "Why'd you pick me up anyway?"

    "I didn't think this 'Artemis' would fire on one of her own team mates. Fortunately, your armour was arrow proof."

    I nod. "Arrows and small calibre b- wait, she shot me?" Did I tell her that was safe?

    Scowl replaced with sinister smile. "A couple of times."

    "Was I still glowing orange at this point?"

    "Yeees?"

    "Eh, s'fine then. So, other point of my visit. Your mum's out of prison; I bumped into her on the way in. Your dad's in prison, -about eighty meters in that direction, actually- and with his record not likely to get out soon, if ever. I'm not asking you to betray any information you have about the League of Shadows, because I know you won't. But, both your mother and I would like to encourage you to disassociate yourself from them. What would it take to persuade you to do that?"

    She avoids my gaze, and slumps slightly. For a good thirty seconds, she says nothing. Then, slowly, she looks up. "More cookies than you've got."

    I cross my arms. "Well, excuse me if I try anyway."
     
  11. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    Okay, a bit more than an hour.

    "Recognised, Orange Lantern, Bee zero six."

    Turns out, Jade hadn't seen her mum in years. And given that her mum really wasn't shy about telling her what she thought of her career choice, she actually preferred talking to me. I'm playing nice cop to someone's own mother.

    Guess I've got the not-seen-your-mother-for-years thing to look forward to.

    Oh, someone's sparring, and from the look of them they've been at it for a while. Kon has his t-shirt off, muscles on his heroically proportioned torso glistening with sweat. Donna's in her tight-fitting work-out gear, her hair either tied back in a bun or plastered across her face where it's escaped. They're both breathing hard.

    Donna's actual combat uniform is a black bodysuit with some sort of wire mesh under the material, and with silver bracers matching Diana's gold ones. We found out quickly that it gave her a rather substantial advantage over Kon during training, so she's decided not to wear it. I really have to ask Diana what the metal is. There's no conventional material that can survive those sort of forces, let alone protect against them.

    Kaldur, Wallace, M'gann and Artemis are spectating, while Diana calls out instructions to the fighters, correcting their postures and attacks. This is training for Donna as well as Kon, as without her armour she is noticeably less resilient than he is and her skills are tested evading and deflecting his attacks.

    As I watch, Donna dives at Kon's legs, pushing off with her left leg, falling towards the floor then shooting forwards. One of her many areas of skill is in being able to switch between flight and walking with no gaps between states. Fighting against her forces you to rethink how people shaped objects can move.

    Kon seems to find that much easier than Kaldur or I do. Wallace never stood a chance. He seems to find her somewhat distracting.

    Kon crouches slightly as she launches, guards, then hops forward and stomps down hard on her most likely vector, forcing her to pull out of her attack. She spins away and tries to sweep him. He counters by kneeling, catching her leg and yanking her across in front of him. He swings a punch, and she rolls under it and attempts an arm lock.

    "Don't anchor yourself in place when fighting a stronger opponent!"

    Thing about supernatural toughness and stamina? They can carry on like that for hours. Diana doesn't believe in the whole 'fight's-over-if-you-hit-the-ground' thing, and Donna likes to get her money's worth while she's actually here.

    The others are still watching the fight, but Artemis is sparing the time to scowl at me. I walk over to them.

    "Sooo. How long have they been at it?"

    "About forty minutes." Wallace takes a bite of his hotdog. "You know, if it was anyone other than Donna hogging the arena, I'd probably complain."

    "Kon-El, she's baiting you. You're getting too aggressive."

    Kon lunges forwards anyway, goes too far and gets an elbow to the back of the neck. He drops to all fours, turning as he does so and lashing out with his right arm in a wild swing. Donna doesn't get out of range quite fast enough and takes a glancing blow which knocks her spinning. She tumbles through the air before bringing herself under control just in front of us.

    "Hey Paul."

    "Good evening Donna. Nice to have you with us."

    I meet her eyes with a nod and a smile. A glance to the side reveals that Wallace is taking the opportunity to ogle her chest. Fortunately, she's turned her attention back to Kon, and flies back into the fray.

    "Yeah, soo not complaining."

    I roll my eyes, and pat him on the shoulder. "Stay classy, Wallace."

    Passing Kaldur, I walk over to M'gann and Artemis.

    "Hi Paul! Where have you been all afternoon?"

    "Prison. Belle Reve. I wanted to visit Jade."

    M'gann looks a little concerned. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. You know she just kissed you so she could get away, right?"

    "Yes, I had realised that."

    "Did she even want to talk to you?"

    Yep, still angry.

    "Artemis, part of the reason why I went was so that I could apologise for the whole tentacle crush thing. She said that she'd been hit harder in training."

    Artemis flinches slightly. Maybe she's more sympathetic than I've been giving her credit for? Don't think I'll mention the Asian-tentacle thing. If Jade didn't hear it then I doubt that Artemis did.

    "It took you this long to apologize?"

    "No, we moved on to talking about other things. Lantern Gardn-."

    "What other things?"

    "Oh, nothing secret or anything. A little about me, where I come from. A bit about weapons; she wanted to make sure I used the correct names for her knives in my report. We eventually got onto her relationship with her parents; I'd bumped into her mother going in, and her dad was-."

    Artemis is staring at me. "Why were you talking about this with her anyway?"

    "Well, Lantern Gardner used to work in prison counselling, and he told me that inmates who have good social support outside prison have a better chance of not reoffending. I mean, the supervillain rehabilitation rate in this country is basically zero, so if we want to avoid doing this all again in a year or two, we should really put some effort into.. finding.. productive... What?"

    Artemis is still staring at me, but now she's leaning into it.

    I smile nervously, catch M'gann's eye and make a small shrug.

    "You went to Belle Reve?"

    "Yes?"

    "To talk to Cheshire?"

    "Yes?"

    "And she didn't say anything about…" She stops for a moment, and looks away. "You didn't ask anything about the League of Shadows?"

    "No, I didn't really ask about them. I mean, M'gann already took everything Jade knew, and it's not as if the identity of their leader is a secret or anything. Look, is there something you want to tell me? Because you've been in a mood with me since we fought her. Did she.. say something to you? Because she didn't mention you at all."

    Back to the staring, but it's less aggressive now. Huh. I'll have to ask Jade what she said next time I visit.

    There's a loud thump from the arena as Kon lands hard on his back and doesn't immediately get up again.

    "Kon, you alright?"

    "Great!" He goes to push himself up. "Ow."
     
  12. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    19:41 GMT -5


    Diana holds up her right hand. "I think that's enough for today. Kon-El, you're improving, but you need to work on keeping your aggression in check. Your eagerness to strike your opponent leaves you open to their counter attack."

    He nods in response, pushing himself into a sitting position. His breathing rate has already returned to normal.

    "Donna, you need to work on using your opponent's blind spots. You're too keen on attacking directly and forfeiting your advantage in agility."

    She just nods. She's panting harder than Kon is, but less than I would be pre-ringing after a two hundred metre jog.

    Whaw, I was unfit.

    The arena light shuts down, and Donna walks over to offer Kon a hand up. He smiles as he takes it. I don't understand it, but he seems to really enjoy this sort of thing. I still have unarmed combat lessons with Black Canary, and they just make me hurt. She tried to motivate me by comparing what I can do unarmed with what Lanterns Jordan and Stewart can do, but all that really tells me is that they're focusing on things that don't matter. Or maybe they do matter to a green ring? Not sure. My sessions with Lantern Gardner are much more useful, though even more harrowing. I was still shaking a good half hour after the last one.

    Fixing minor cuts and bruises is easy with this ring, but dampening down the psychological effect of a constant green energy beam barrage is not so easy. I used to wonder why Dragonball Z characters ever used that sort of bombardment when all of the worthwhile damage was done with slower, more powerful attacks. Now I know: shell shock. Until you get used to it -and I still haven't- when you're under attack like that it's very difficult to think anything more complex than 'shitshitshitshitshitshitshit!'. That actually helps my armour in the short term, but would have cost me a real fight before too long.

    There's a hum and a hiss from the roof, and the iris door to Red Tornado's room opens. It's directly above the arena for some reason. Wouldn't it be much more practical for it to be located off to one side? What if he wanted to get out and the sparring bout was still going on? Would stairs really be so bad? I had a look when I was taking bits of Mister Twister up there, and it's just an engineering workshop. I didn't even see any personal mementos. Alan's got a couple of rooms full of that sort of stuff.

    Red Tornado himself drops down to the ground, and the iris closes behind him. The force of winds needed to keep someone of his weight aloft must be immense, but outside the red blur that surrounded his legs there was barely a breeze. He walks over to Diana, and I can just hear his-. No. No eavesdropping.

    Wallace decides to take the initiative anyway. In a blur he's inside their personal space. "Do you have a mission for us?"

    Red Tornado rotates his head in Wallace's direction. "Mission assignments are the Batman's responsibility."

    "Yeah, well 'the Batman's' with 'the Robin' doing the dynamic duo thing in Gotham. But you're going somewhere, right? Hot date? Or a mish-shon?"

    Red Tornado pauses for a moment, and then turns his head toward Diana. She considers. "It can't hurt. I was going to ask Donna and Paul to accompany me anyway."

    I know that Red Tornado ended up married in the comics, but I haven't noticed much of an inclination toward social interaction while he's been here. Alan told me that he used to be the only member of the old Justice Society who lived on site, and that he had never known him to have a recreational pursuit.

    Red Tornado steps away, and activates one of the holographic computer interfaces. As the rest of us congregate around it, there's a hum, and a picture of Mister Nelson appears on the screen.

    "This is Kent Nelson. A friend of Wonder Woman and myself. He is one hundred and six years old."

    Wallace leans over to me. "Guy doesn't look a day over ninety."

    I shrug. "Alan could pass for forty."

    "And he has been missing for twenty three days."

    Ring?

    Confirmed. One day after visitation.

    Darn.

    "Kent was a charter member of the Justice Society, the precursor to the Justice League."

    A picture of a younger Mister Nelson in full Fate costume replaces the image of the old man on the screen.

    "Of course. Nelson was Earth's sorcerer supreme. He was Doctor Fate!"

    Sounds like Kaldur's done half the reading.

    Wallace isn't impressed. "Pff. More like Doctor Fake. Guy knows a little advanced science and 'Dumbledores'-" He actually made the air quote gesture. "-it up to scare the bad guys and impress the babes."

    "You realise you're talking to someone using a ring powered by his emotional state, right?"

    "Yeah, but-."

    "Kent may simply be on one of his… 'Walkabouts'. But he is caretaker to the Helmet of Fate, the source of the Doctor's mystic might, and it is unwise to leave such power unguarded."

    "He is like the great sorcerer priests and priestesses of Mars. I would be honored to help find him."

    Add researching Martian magic and religion to the slate. I've found that I can add things to my notebooks while they're in subspace. No idea how that works.

    Wallace raises a hand enthusiastically. "Me too."

    Not surprised. I imagine that Mister Nelson and Mister Garrick would have been friends, and Wallace seemed to admire the first Flash.

    "Soo honored I can barely stand it."

    Oh. No, he's just planning to hit on M'gann again.

    "Magic." He makes the horns. "Rocks."

    Hasn't he had even a basic induction session on the nature and uses of magic? We've done melee combat and criminal investigation, I assumed that magic lessons were further in to the curriculum. I've tried to do some reading, and the books belonging to Mister Nelson that Alan gave me were helpful, but there doesn't seem to be a set text or standard notation. I really need to talk to Diana about getting a thaumaturgist on the team. If Zatanna's not up for it, then maybe… Whatshername, Tracy Thirteen? Without knowing her real name I hadn't thought it worth trying to find her. Maybe see if Mister Zatara can teach a few lessons?

    Time to stick my head above the parapet.

    "I spoke to Mister Nelson shortly before he went missing."

    Ah. Centre of attention.
     
  13. Mr Zoat

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    19th August
    19:48 GMT -5


    Diana's first to respond. "When was this?"

    "On the twenty seventh of July. He was visiting Alan, and Alan called me."

    M'gann looks offended. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have loved to meet him."

    "Call came via the ring-" I point. "-at five past six in the morning. I was woken up by a giant orange head, and Alan was really unclear about why he wanted to see me. When I got to his house, Mister Nelson was there. He was stopping off before travelling on to New Orleans, and then probably on to London."

    Didn't he visit Diana as well, or at least contact her? Maybe they weren't that close. Hang on. Ah, drug gang gun battle in Mexico City. She probably couldn't spare the time.

    "Do you know why he wanted to go there?"

    "Is this ring orange? Because he's a hundred and six and he needs someone to take over looking after the Helmet before he dies. There was a medium in New Orleans he was going to interview, and I suggested the name of a wizard I know of in London."

    "What are their names?"

    "Didn't ask about the medium. Wizard's name is John Constantine."

    No sign of recognition. "I haven't heard of him."

    "I imagine that he's a little under the League's radar, but I think Mister Zatara knows of him."

    She nods. "I'll check with him. Do you think this John Constantine might have had something to do with Kent's disappearance?"

    Well… "Do I think he'd have kidnapped him, or attacked him? No, that's quite a long way outside his method of operation. But that's not to say that there might not have been some sort of incident. London's magic underground isn't exactly a safe place."

    She nods again. Kaldur's giving me a puzzled look. Not sure why. "Do you have any idea how to contact him?"

    "I haven't been able to locate him, but I do know where his sister lives. I haven't approached her myself because, as I understand it, Mister Constantine doesn't want the rest of his family involved with, well, this." I gesture to the room. "But if there's an actual incident to investigate, might be worth trying her."

    "Any other family?"

    "Brother-in-law and niece, both living with the sister. Other than that, not that I know of. Ring, upload all information relating to John Constantine to the computer on Wonder Woman's jet."

    "Compliance."

    "I'll follow up on London. Donna, are you able to accompany me?"

    She brightens at the prospect. "Ah, yes, but I should probably take a shower first."

    Ring?

    A wave of orange light passes through Donna, eliminating sweat and grime.

    "Oh. Thanks."

    Wallace looks curious. "Your ring has a shower function?"

    Eh? "Why'd you think I didn't shower with you guys after missions?"

    Red Tornado raises his right hand, holding what looks like a weird looking key.

    "It would be best if the team investigated the Tower of Fate. It is located in Salem, Massachusetts." He holds out the key to Kaldur. "This key will grant you access. I will investigate the lead in New Orleans."

    Kaldur takes the key, while Wallace wanders over to try his luck with M'gann again.

    I'm going to need to recharge. I'm not low, but this looks like it'll be an actual mission and I don't want to take unnecessary risks. I step away from the group, but Kon and Diana intercept me from opposite directions.

    Kon speaks first. "Would.. you mind cleaning me off as well? I don't wanna hold up the mission."

    "Sure, let me just…" He is rather sweaty.

    "Um."

    Come on damn you work. Ah. The orange band moves over Kon. He runs his right hand through his hair.

    "Thanks. Heading down to the bioship?"

    "Just gunna recharge the ring first. I'll be down in a moment."

    He nods, smiles, and turns back to the group. I turn to Diana and come to parade rest.

    "Sir?"

    "Kent told you that he was looking for a successor?"

    "Yes? Well, confirmed it after I used the-" I point at my eyes. "-Ophidian's Eyes on him."

    Not sure where she's going with this.

    "Do you know who else he was considering for the position?"

    "Ahp, I think he said he offered it to Mister Zatara, but he turned it down. Yeah, he didn't mention the others by name, just that he's asked a lot of people."

    She doesn't seem happy about this for some reason.

    "Can I ask? Why do you want to know?"

    "Themysciran reliquaries hold a number of powerful arcane artefacts. Though I don't think there are any Amazons who would be prepared to.. bond.. with Nabu, we would be perfectly happy to secure the Helmet and any other dangerous objects as an interim measure. Please, if you see him, let him know that."

    "Of course. Are.. there.. a lot of Amazonian magic users?"

    "Few choose to become sorceresses, but most Amazons use magic to some degree. We've… They've, had a great deal of time in which to learn."

    She makes to leave. "Oh, um, one other thing came up in conversation."

    She turns back. "Yes?"

    "It's probably more of a long term thing. Um. But Mister Nelson scanned me, and it turns out that I sort of.. don't have a soul. And, that could be a problem. In the long term."

    Incredulous. "You don't have a soul? I know you said you were an atheist-."

    "No no no, it's not a matter of faith. My home parallel doesn't have magic, so I came here without any sort of magic presence. No soul."

    Realisation. "That was why you reacted as you did at Gaea's temple. I had seen people affected by it before, but your reaction was unusually strong."

    "Yeah. Apparently that'll happen whenever I'm somewhere with intense magic."

    Her gaze shifts from me over to the others; Kaldur in particular, I notice.

    "The Tower of Fate is a site of powerful magics, though I have never tried to make a direct comparison between it and the Temple. Do you think that you will be able to cope?"

    "I don't know." I shake my head. "I'll tell Kaldur, and let him decide. Even if I can't enter the Tower safely, I can still be on overwatch."

    She nods her approval. "Have you considered what lacking a soul means for you?"

    "I've been trying to do some research, but even though magic is readily available here, there don't seem to be many reliable books on the subject. I suppose it means that if I die there's nothing to go on to an afterlife, assuming those actually exist."

    "I assure you that they do."

    "Okay, but, like you said, atheist. I believed that there was nothing after death anyway. Really, this is still an improvement, because I know it could change."

    She thinks for a moment. "I will speak with Magala, my mother's court sorceress. Once I have information for you, I will let you know."

    "Thank you."
     
  14. Mr Zoat

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    19th August
    20:02 GMT -5


    If you're not sure of your mission fitness, inform your team leader.

    I didn't take my normal seat next to Kon so that I could have a quiet word with Kaldur. I've been in close proximity to him when he's used magic before to no ill affect. He's actually taking some sort of Atlantean correspondence course, finishing the education that got interrupted by Aquaman taking him on. I've transmuted reagents for him a couple of times, then hung around to watch him work. The ring couldn't work out what was happening… Or maybe I just don't have the vocabulary to understand its explanation.

    Is this going to be a big deal with the rest of the team? I know Americans tend to be more religious than the English, but none of my team mates have shown any overt religiosity in my presence. On the other hand, the three I've spent most time with aren't Americans, and it hasn't ever come up in conversation. I didn't even know that Mars even had a priesthood until M'gann mentioned it. Do they have several religions? The way she said it implied just one. And I have no idea how Atlanteans do things.

    I lean forward, and try to keep my voice down. "Aqualad, can I borrow you for a moment?"

    He looks up from the data pad he was reading. Looks like he's reviewing Mister Nelson's service record. "What is it?"

    Where to begin?

    I exhale. "When I spoke to Mister Nelson, he made me aware of something… Okay, you know how I come from a parallel universe?"

    "You have mentioned it."

    "Right... It's not just history that's different. The way physics works is different as well. And, one of the differences, is no magic."

    His eyes drop for a moment. "If you are concerned about what we may face-."

    "No, I've read up on that. The problem's a bit more… When I appeared here, I didn't suddenly start interacting with local magic as if I'd been here my whole life."

    I'm trying to lead up to it, but I think I'm just confusing him. "Are you saying that you are immune to magic?"

    "No. Quite the opposite, actually. I don't have a soul, and as a consequence I have no resistance to magic at all. Made a, heh, a bit of a scene when Wonder Woman took me to the Temple of Gaea. Was a bit like I was drunk, or high, or something."

    Kaldur's face is still as he considers this. "You are certain that is the cause?"

    I shrug. "I can't check, can I? But it sounds logical."

    "It does, though it would appear to contravene what I was taught at the Conservatory of Sorcery. The idea that complex life is possible without magic is a strange one."

    "Welcome to my world. Look, I wanted to let you know in case I start acting up when we get to the Tower. You might be better off leaving me in a supporting role."

    He nods, once. "I will consider it. Thank you for informing me."

    "-seriously considered becoming a wizard myself."

    Is Wallace still trying that?

    "Aqualad, I just want to check: there isn't a school for arcane learning in North America, right?"

    "Not that I am aware of. In fact, I do not know of any in the surface world."

    "Eh, there's a few. There's the White College in the north of England, but it's invite only. There's Nanda Parbat in Tibet if you're spiritually inclined, Themyscira if you've got a v-."

    M'gann interrupts me. "We're approaching Tornado's coordinates, but-."

    Kon stands, and peers out of the front window. "Nothing's there."

    Kaldur checks an instrument panel. "Take us down. We will investigate further on foot."

    M'gann moves her hands at the controls, and the bioship drops down to land on what looks like an empty car park. I take a moment to look out of the front window myself as the others file past, out of the rear hatch. There really isn't anything here. I mean, one look at the surrounding buildings shows that there isn't really any reason for there to be a big empty space here, so someone's playing silly buggers. And if I can even notice that fact, the wards must be of the more passive sort. A glamour, then? I didn't notice anything on those in the book he gave me, but I was more concerned with making sure I wasn't sending messages to the Ophidian than magical hacking.

    I get up, armour up and join the group outside.

    There don't seem to be any other people about. Wallace is conducting a celerity assisted sweep of the perimeter, pausing at intervals to check… something..? I'm going to assume that he thinks the Tower is concealed by technological means, and presumably he has encountered such devices before. And, of course, it might be. Just because it's hidden by magic doesn't means that it can't also be hidden by other means.

    Just in case…

    Ring, general scan, four hundred metre radius.

    Compliance.

    It seems that the ring finds this area perplexing. Some of the returns from its scans don't agree with each other, but it doesn’t know how to resolve the dispute. There's definitely something here, though. I can't remember anything about the Tower from the comics that might offer any insight.

    Maintain scans. Let me know if anything changes.

    Compliance.

    **Sorry, ring's got nothing.**

    M'gann lowers her hands from the sides of her head. **Nothing on telepathic scans.**

    Wallace returns to the group, braking hard in front of Artemis. **I can't find anything either. This isn't simple camouflage.**

    Artemis has her hands on her hips. **So, what'd'ya think? Adaptive micro-optoelectronics combined with phase shifting?**

    Ring, we're checking for that, right?

    Optical camouflage is insufficient to affect base level scans. Current avarice levels also support multiphasic scanning, which is in progress.

    Good to know.

    **Absolutely.**

    So, wait, has he given up on the magic angle with M'gann? I'd like to think so, now that a mission is in progress.

    Then M'gann takes a few steps towards him.

    **N..not.**

    Gods damn it, Wallace.
     
  15. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    **Clearly, mystic powers.. are at work here.**

    Artemis' face leaves no question of what she thinks of his blatant nonsense. I'd roll my eyes, but the ring has just made me aware of a patch of phase shift at the edge of the area which the Tower of Fate is supposed to occupy. Someone just moved a stealth field up behind us, and I'm a little worried about the possibility of immediate attack.

    Nothing.

    Ring, are we able to see inside that area without letting those inside know that we've seen them?

    Unable to confirm. Probability dependent on data not obtainable without bypassing phase shift stealth system.

    Of course it isn't.

    **If everyone could maintain the pretence of looking for the tower? We are under observation.**

    Heads and eyes swivel in my direction. I ignore them, generate an orange torch and begin what I hope looks like a methodical search pattern.

    Kaldur gets the idea first. He holds out his water bearers and forms an arc of water between them, and begins walking a grid. I wonder if he can actually use them to detect magic? Some sort of reverse dowsing? M'gann rises into the air and swoops across the tarmac, a small distortion forming around her hands. The others catch on, and spread out to look by more mundane means.

    **The ring has detected an area of phase shift.**

    Kon frowns. **I thought you said you couldn't find anything?**

    **I couldn't. It wasn't there when I started scanning. Someone snuck up on us and is currently watching us. Kid Flash, don't look around!**

    He freezes for a moment, before resuming his fake search.

    Kaldur stops walking for a moment, and rotates on the spot, coincidentally making eye contact with me. **Are you able to determine who it is?**

    **Not without piercing the distortion, and I can't guarantee that they won't detect that. With your permission?**

    **You have it. Try not to let them know what you are doing.**

    Ring, you heard the man. Minimum power.

    I don't look in their direction, but in my mind's eye I see four orange outlines. No, five. It looks like Klarion the Witch Boy brought Teekl along. I only really know them from Seven Soldiers, but I don't remember him being particularly powerful in any of his incarnations. I see Mister Nelson, with his hands bound in front of him. He looks understandably miserable, but I can't see any injuries. Just behind him is a man in a white shirt and sporting a wand and a beard of evil. Abra Kadabra. Justice League records indicate that he uses highly advanced technology to perform apparently magical feats. Have to see about scanning his tech in detail later. I seem to remember that he comes from the future, but I can't yet tell if that's true of this version.

    The last man is standing at the back. Black leather coat, black gloves, black leather boots and a full head mask with a white swirl over the face. No idea how he can see out. I don't recognise him, and there's nothing in the League files. Some sort of dark nineties version of Batman of the Future's Spellbinder? I can't see any weapons on him at this level of resolution.

    None of them seem to be reacting to what I'm doing, though Mister Nelson might just be disguising his awareness intentionally.

    **Three opponents, Mister Nelson and a cat. Abra Kadabra of Central City, Klarion the Witch Boy and some guy I don't recognise.**

    I get an incredulous response from Wallace. **Klarion the what?**

    **Witch Boy.** Wait, that sounds stupid, and since he isn't in the files I can't explain where I know it from. He also isn't wearing his traditional puritan pilgrim costume. **Young male magic user. He's wearing a suit. I think the cat's his familiar.**

    Kaldur keeps things moving. **The other man?**

    **Not on file, and I don't recognise him. No obvious weapons, but that probably just means that he doesn't need them.**

    **Is Mister Nelson injured?**

    **Not as far as I can tell.** I think for a moment. Ring, can we attack through the phase shift?

    Phase shift piercing attacks are available.

    Good to know. I transmit the ring's image and the enemy's location to the others via the telepathic network.

    **Ah, Abra Kadabra. Such a shame that he never opened his heart to the true mystic arts.**

    **Not the time, W-. Kid Flash.**

    Artemis chips in. **I don't recognize the leather guy either.**

    I'm starting to worry about that as well. The dress code suggests malnourished Midnighter, but he's slightly slumped. Oh, his hands are twitching. I think Klarion's saying something to him, but I don't have sound at the moment.

    **I can try scanning under the mask, but that increases the risk of them realising that we're on to them. And, frankly, I'm not sure it's worth the effort. Major supervillains either don't do subtlety or they don't do fieldwork. If he were out of our weight class we'd have heard of him by now.**

    **Just so long as you don't try kissing him.**

    Banter? Glad to know she's stopped being angry with me. **He doesn't look like my type. All that leather? What is he thinking?**

    She gives me a surprised glance. What?

    **Rescuing Mister Nelson is our main purpose here. M'gann, find heavy objects and levitate them over the roof behind them. When I give the word, hurl them at Klarion and the unknown figure.**

    M'gann nods, and raises herself higher up into the air.

    **Orange Lantern, we will need you to neutralise Abra Kadabra as quickly as possible. Can you attack through his cloak?**

    I did want a look at his tech. **Unless he's done something very clever, yes.**

    **Prepare to initiate your attack on my command.**

    **Sir.**

    **Kid Flash, I need you to recover Mister Nelson as swiftly as possible. Artemis and I will cover you.**

    **You got it.**

    **Once you have him, take him to the bioship. Depending on the level of resistance we encounter, either return to assist or cover our retreat.**
     
  16. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    What sort of construct to use? Clearly, I need to disrupt whatever Abra Kadabra uses to control his technology. I can see a wand, but I imagine he has implants to go with it. Shouldn't be too hard to block or destroy, but in case he doesn't need to move to use them I should probably avoid using the ShockCrown. The records in the Justice League database suggest that all of his really dangerous stuff requires a good deal of set up time, and I haven't detected anything like that around this square.

    Hmm. Grapple, grab his wand and yank him away from the others, then plug a construct into his peripheral nervous system and paralyse him while jamming any signals to the outside. Slamming him into the ground couldn't hurt. Come up from below? Should I keep that in reserve?

    **Is everyone ready?**

    By 'sheer chance', Wallace's search pattern has brought him closest to the stealth field. Kon's crouched slightly, as if examining the ground. Artemis returned to the bioship for her bow, and is 'cleaning' some arrows. Kaldur has separated the water streams from his water bearers, ready to make medium distance whip attacks.

    Ring, extend subterranean construct. Prep phase disruptors.

    Compliance.

    An orange filament extends from my right heel. It goes down a metre through the tarmac, then travels straight under our targets.

    **Orange Lantern ready.**

    **I'm ready.** I get a quick flash of M'gann's position.

    **Ready.** Artemis 'experimentally' puts arrow to string.

    **Ready.** Kon tenses his legs, ready to leap.

    **I'm always ready.** Wallace stretches his right leg.

    **Attack once the camouflage is down. Orange Lantern, attack when ready.**

    My orange thread is split into four under the target area. The four sub-threads radiate away from the division point and form the corners of a square, each terminating in a ray gun like construct.

    Now.

    There's no sound, not even a visual distortion. One moment we're looking at a wall, the next, a group of three supervillains, a cat and an old man. Kadabra has just enough time to stare at his wand in confusion before the chain erupts from the tarmac under his feet. A clamp forms around his neck and yanks him face first into the ground. He drops his wand, and an orange tendril latches on to it. Wallace blurs past as I put an x-shaped harness around Kadabra's chest, jam his everything, and launch both of us off the ground. He's never shown any ability to fly, and most people will hesitate to attack if it means a two kilometre drop.

    Just as we leave the area M'gann's projectiles zero in on the remaining targets. The guy in black raises his head toward them.

    "'crack'"

    The two lumps of concrete explode into powder, obscuring the area. I see Artemis' arrow fly towards the last location of the unknown villain-

    "'tok'"

    -and bounces off air. We're going to need to have that talk about the efficacy of pointy sticks against force fields, aren't we? I had been hoping to put that off.

    Four bolts of red lightning blast out of the dust cloud forcing the others to evade, and I hear someone -I think it's Klarion- giggling.

    **Orange Lantern to Aqualad. Kadabra is clear. Orders?**

    **Kid Flash to Aqualad, Mister Nelson's clear. A bit beat up, but he says he'll be okay.**

    **Kid Flash, return to the combat area. Orange Lantern, uh-**

    **Kaldur?**

    **Klarion's assistant is more dangerous than I'd hoped. Interrogate Abra Kadabra. Report anything useful you learn.**

    **Sir.**

    That will take me out of telepathic range, of course. I seem to remember Klarion's powers in the comics being a little more subtle than red lightning. Eh, they've got a clear line of retreat if they're being overwhelmed, and they've still got the radio.

    Up we go then.

    As the car park drops away I take a moment to scan Kadabra. Not as many implants as I was expecting. A couple in his gut, and a cluster around the base of his skull. They keep trying to transmit, but nope, still jammed. His organs are more or less baseline Human, though according to the ring there's been quite a bit of genetic tweaking. Optimisation, rather than redesign. I take his wand into my hand. It looks like it has similar subspace storage facilities to the ring, but it can also form links between stored objects and the outside world. He's weaponised something I use for notebook writing.

    We're now at splat height, and he's pretending to be unconscious.

    "Mister Kadabra, I can read your brain activity. I know that you're perfectly aware of your surroundings." He lazily opens his eyes, and wrinkles his nose at me. "Now, I'm Orange Lantern t-."

    His eyes open wide in shock. His pupils flash down to the glowing sigil on my chest. His heart rate and breathing rate have shot right up.

    Um… Okay…

    "No no no no no no!"

    He's reaching out for his wand with his left hand. The implant in his neck appears to be a dedicated subspace receiver, and he's trying to trigger it like mad right now. I suppose that implant handles the activation process of the subspace link? Wand waving wouldn't be precise enough.

    I put the wand in my subspace storage.

    "You can't be here now! I checked! You shouldn't be here yet!"

    Guess he does come from the future, then. "Can I.. take it then that you've heard of First Lantern Larfleeze?"

    "Heard of..? Hehehehe…" Despair fills his chuckles. He raises his right hand to mantle his face. He's still breathing as if he's sprinted four hundred metres.

    This should be easier than I was expecting. "So, if you've heard of the Orange Corps, then you should know what I can do to organic life forms who aren't helpful when I want them to be."

    He looks me over, then looks down. "Yes. Ah, yes. Yes, I know."

    "Glad to hear it. Now, I've got some questions for you. You can answer them as you are, or you can join the Orange Lantern Corps the unfun way, and then answer them. Please remember, I'm monitoring your brain wave patterns."

    " What do you want to know?"

    Ring, transmit to the team. "Let's start with: who's the guy in leathers?"

    "I.. I.. I'm not sure. I didn't meet him before this evening. Klarion called him 'Onomatopoeia'."

    "And what can he do?"

    "He doesn't talk, he just makes noises and things happen. I don't understand how it works! I don't know anything about magic!"

    Brain activity suggests that he's telling the truth. Now, the other half of the problem.

    "Now, talk to me about Klarion."
     
  17. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    He makes a token struggle against the bonds, then gives up and looks down. Is he actually trying to spot Klarion from up here?

    "Klarion is a Lord of Chaos, and one of the most powerful magic users on this planet."

    What? Oh, hell. Ring, team status.

    Kaldur's got both water bearers attached to Onomatopoeia, but before he can do anything with the connection the water freezes then shatters, knocking him back. Some sort of vaguely bear like creature made of mist is chasing M'gann, while Klarion cackles from behind it. Wallace picks himself off the floor and only just dodges another bolt of red lightning. He's limping. Artemis is pelting Klarion with arrows which twist and bend as they reach him. Most snap or fly into the wall, but one goes back towards her and forces her to dodge. Mister Nelson is just behind her, reaching for something. Why's he there?

    Kon jumps through the mist creature, disrupting it for a moment. I see cuts on his chest and face.

    !Help them!

    Ring, shut down Kadabra's neck implant. Duration: twelve hours.

    Kadabra gasps in shock. I do a quick check, but the implant doesn't do anything essential to his body.

    "I'll be dropping you off now."

    Ring, route.

    At the moment, FTL is a bit rough on the people I bring with me. Kon walked it off, but M'gann asked if we could take the bioship next time. A momentary flicker of orange and Kadabra and I are hovering just over the grass next to the 'Welcome to Salem' sign. I let him drop. "I'll pick you up when this is over."

    He's still a bit out of it, but he manages a-

    "You can't!"

    -before I transition back to the fight area.

    A shock prod construct hits Onomatopoeia in the diaphragm. He's wearing armour, but NO ONE HURTS MY FRIENDS and he's knocked over and down. I spin in the air and a giant fan construct disperses the mist thing. I land next to Artemis.

    "Where's Kadabra?"

    "I shut down his tech and dropped him off on the edge of town."

    Klarion smirks at me. I hadn't really noticed before, but the structure of his face isn't quite right. The hair horns could just be gel, but the angles in his head and his colouration are just subtly… Wrong. Something pretending to be Human, but not quite getting it.

    I stick a bubble barrier around him. I've no way to know whether or not it'll actually do anything, but Mister Nelson did say that not having a soul shouldn't affect my constructs. Every little helps.

    **It won't be enough.** Mister Nelson's voice.

    "Oooooooooooh. Who gave you a kiddie decoder ring?" Klarion's decided that I warrant his full attention.

    "No idea. Looks good on me though, doesn't it?"

    "Eeeh, I've seen better. I don't think orange is your color."

    Teekl rubs around his legs. Her eyes are solid red, and her fur has some decidedly odd markings. The versions of her I know about look more or less like a normal cat most of the time. She catches me looking at her and snarls, swishing a paw in my direction with claws extended. Usually I love cats, but I think I'll give this one a miss.

    Klarion's eyes brighten for a moment. Both figuratively and literally. "You're empty."

    What am I doing? Trying to hold his attention, I suppose. I don't particularly want to bait a spell I can't block with a barrier. I don't know what a 'Lord of Chaos' is except in Warhammer terms, but I'm guessing this is probably about my worst possible match up.

    "Mum always told me to go before leaving the ho-."

    Red lightning crackles around his left hand and my barrier dissolves like paint dust thrown into the wind. The sensory feedback I get from it feels like I thrust my forearm inside a big bag of uncooked rice. Lots of tiny packets of pressure from lots of directions at once. On the off chance, I pull the construct back, turn it into a razor sharp edge, and bring it around at chest height. This time, it's ink in water.

    Uhoowf. Feedback from that one actually hurt a bit. Like sandpaper pressed into the skin of my left arm, then yanked hard along it. Calm. Breath. Focus on your need.

    He is a threat to my ingroup. He has hurt my friends. I don't really mind a little small 'c' chaos myself, but comic Chaos is all about wanton destruction of the sort I find depressingly pointless. I want to build, and people like this live just to tear things down.

    Shots from my particle cannon turn into filaments of light that swirl around him like streamers as they reach him. A chunk of concrete hurled by M'gann turns to gloop as it strikes him, then drips upwards and evaporates to nothing.

    "Heeeey. My soo-oot."

    Klarion makes a fist and oh hell. I remember the episode of Teen Titans where Raven forced Beast Boy to change from one shape to another. I hope that's what happened, because otherwise Klarion just broke M'gann's shoulders, hips, spine and neck twisting bits of her around.

    She cries out, and Kon lunges in to catch her.

    !Kill him!

    I fire a wide orange coruscating beam at him while simultaneously building two Van de Graaff generator constructs on either side of him. Maybe avarice is inherently chaotic, or something? I ramp the generators up far beyond what normal physics allow, because mere electrons will do what I want them to. Then they discharge, a continual blinding stream of white so bright I put a shield around the target.

    !M'gann!

    There isn't much on Martian physiology in the part of the database I could access, but a brief application of orange light triggers her shapeshifting in the areas Klarion rearranged. Some breakages, but mostly things just aren't connected to each other properly. If she weren't in so much pain she'd do it herself, but with a little luck she should be able to sort herself out now.

    There's a faint 'click' from behind me, and the Tower of Fate appears from wherever it was hiding.

    When this is over, I'm going to bypass League security and get as much-.

    "Hkk."

    Cold. I feel cold.

    The Van de Graaff generators collapse. The barrier's still up, but it's thinning and I can see a smiling, unhurt Klarion on the other side of it. I stagger slightly to the left, then catch myself. What is-?

    Ghaaaagh!

    There's a cone of glowing red nothing sticking out the left side of my chest, and from the feel of it an equal length inside as well!

    "Aaaagh!"

    Come on damn you, cut the pain!

    The skin around in numbs, and for a moment I'm alright again. Breathing isn't working quite right, but the ring can just feed my cells directl-.

    Eaughh!

    I crumple, dropping to all fours on the ground, just able to raise my head enough to look at him.

    "Ah ah aah." Klarion waves his right index finger at me as he shoves what is left of my barrier aside with his left hand. "No cheating."
     
  18. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    20:28 GMT -5


    **Get him inside. The Tower's defenses…**

    Everything's getting a bit peculiar. I can see Klarion walking forwards, step by step. There's a cat in his arms, and he's stroking its head. There's a sort of orange haze around, but it's not really…

    Oweraghowowaaagh!

    The pain comes from two places now, the left of my chest and my abdomen, a red cone in both of them. My armour's still there, for all the good it's doing. I've rolled over onto my side, and I'd have curled up in the foetal position if that didn't make it hurt more. Dully, I register the ring describing the physical damage the cones are doing.

    I think I'm melting. It doesn't burn, but parts of my body are being torn into tiny shreds. I try to regrow them-

    "Yaaaaghh ah ah ah!"

    -and it gets worse as the new flesh is melted in turn.

    My eyes are wet.

    I'm lifted off the ground. It's not gentle, but compared to the other pain, it's nothing. I hear a shout-

    "No! Come back here! He's mine, mine, MINE!"

    -then I'm through a heavy wooden door and into a corridor of bare brick. We're… Going up some stairs.

    Brick. That explains the cold, I suppose.

    Wider corridor. I see a worried green face. Rounded, hard and bald, like a Martian's supposed to look. A two fingered hand laid on my chest becomes five fingered.

    **You're going to be okay.**

    Her head changes shape, back to normal Megan. Why doesn't she just leave it? Why won't she show me her real face?

    The wall ahead of us peels away to reveal a living room. There's a large square rug on the floor, and a fireplace in the far wall. M'gann deposits me on a chaise longue, and I curl up again while Kaldur tends to Kon's cuts. Banda- No, no, focus, Kon needs you. The medical kit I put in subspace clatters to the floor next to him. Wallace looks shocked, his eyes moving from me to Kon to M'gann. He wants to help, but doesn't know how.

    The broken remains of Artemis' bow hit the floor with a clatter. The.. whatever it's made of.. has exploded apart near one end. There's a small cut on her cheek, but I don't think that she's noticed it.

    "Let's have a look at you." Mister Nelson gently pushes me onto my back. I grip the sides of the chaise longue. I shouldn't curl up. He's the only one around here who can fix this.

    But it hurts.

    "As I feared. This spell shouldn't last longer than a few seconds, but you've nothing to fight it with."

    He moves out of my field of vision, and my eyes are drawn back to the two red spikes in my torso. For a moment, I wonder about transferring the ring to my mouth and just cutting away the damaged parts of my body. No, no, too risky. Might work, probably wouldn't.

    Aghhuhuhuha.

    I feel a hand on mine, which still hold the chaise in a death grip.

    "Paul."

    Ugh.

    "Paul."

    Insistent. I push my head back to look. M'gann.

    "Not dead quite yet, M'gann. "

    There's a blast of cold air, freezing really. A few flakes of snow waft across the room behind M'gann.

    "I can try to turn off the pain telepathically."

    I try shaking my head. I think it wobbles a bit.

    "Ring… Ring can do that. Isn't working. Magic, ugh…"

    I wince.

    She presses her other hand against my cheek, and looks across to Mister Nelson. He's now carrying his walking stick, the metal handle glowing gold. He holds the shaft and points the metal end at me.

    The red double ended cones rise slowly from my chest, a faint golden aura around them. It doesn't hurt worse, but now the ring's giving me an even clearer idea of what's been happening inside me. Without the ring, my stomach, liver and small intestine would be a write-off, along with most of my left lung. As it is… Ugh… They'll be more or less fixed in a few moments.

    Once the cones are fully out Mister Nelson sweeps the cane around, taking them with him. He walks over to an empty area of the floor, and a pedestal topped with a large lump of crystal rises out of the floor. A brighter glow, and the cones sink into the crystal, trapped the hell away from me.

    The pain's starting to subside. Come on, you practised this. Wholeness Rightly Assumed.

    "Ah!"

    According to the ring, I'm now more or less intact. There's still some pain, though I don't know whether it's an echo or if there's still something wrong with me. I release my grip on the chaise, smile at M'gann and then move to a sitting position.

    "Thank you, M'gann, Mister Nelson."

    "Don't be too grateful. I didn't get all of it. You're going to need someone to spend a great deal of time making sure that they've removed every last bit of it before you'll be fully well again."

    Kon looks relieved. His t-shirt's off and his chest is covered in plasters and bandages.

    Ring, photon beam.

    A thin filament of orange arcs from my head over to his, where it expands into the sunlamp-like construct of Kryptonian well-being. I need a name for it. Rao's Beatitude? No, Rao's red, that wouldn't make sense. Don't know.

    He closes his eyes and turns his face upwards towards it, breathing out in relief.

    "What… What exactly.. cut up Superboy, then?"

    "Onomatopoeia."

    Kaldur's sombre. There's a joke in his answer, but I'll not be making it. I just remember who Onomatopoeia was in the comics. He was a nobody. Vocal tic, whatever weapons he could lay his hands on. Guns mostly, but I marked him down the intelligence scale on the grounds that he wasn't in it for money. Once pissed off the Joker by using him as a distraction. Hah, clown-sexual. But the fact is, there's no way he should be able to do anything much to our team. Certainly not from a standing start. Then again, I wasn't expecting this much in your face power from Klarion. Reality warping rituals I could understand, but no-selling me head on?

    "How?"

    "He just pointed at him and said 'ssshik'. Gotta be some kinda radiation weapon, programmed to respond to his voice."

    Wallace, I don't need this right now. And by the look of it, neither does Artemis.

    "What happened to believing in magic?"

    "I decided to get serious when a guy started trying to kill us!"

    "Then how do you explain the red lightning? Or the mist creature?"

    "An advanced plasma manipulation device, and.. probably.. some kind of holographic system, using charged water vapour as the medium. Magic isn't real!"

    M'gann looks downcast, and rubs the back of her neck. "Having my whole body twisted around felt pretty real to me."
     
  19. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    20:37 GMT -5


    That shuts Wallace up for a moment.

    I should be patient. He hasn't had any regular contact with magic. It's a bit out-of-context for him.

    "Wallace, any sufficiently well understood magic is indistinguishable from technology. I don’t understand how those things happened. The way Doctor Roquette's nanobots work defies everything I thought I knew about the way matter works, but you don't see me complaining about it. I mean, look at this ring."

    I wave my left palm at him. He isn't having it.

    "A power ring is super advanced Guardian technology."

    "Don't ever let the Controllers hear you call it that. Maltusian technology, thank you very much. And you're trying to make a distinction where no distinction exists. The Controllers understand the forces which ignorant magic users -ur, no offence Mister Nelson-"

    He waves it off with a smile. "None taken."

    "-manipulate through spell and ritual, in the same way that you understand radio waves. And they use that understanding to build things like this." I tap the ring with my right forefinger. "The way I think determines the strength of my constructs, but doesn't affect the power drain. Where's the power coming from?"

    "Your lantern, and it gets stored in your ring."

    "And how does it get into the lantern? There's no chemical or nuclear reactions going on in there, I checked when I was trying to work out how to build one."

    He looks to the side, thinking hard. "I… dunno, but that doesn't mean there isn't an explanation."

    "Of course not. There's an explanation for everything. Doesn't mean it's going to be simple, or obvious, or that it can be understood in terms of things you already know. Mister Nelson just pulled something out of my chest. For the moment, I'm prepared to take him at his word."

    A jab of pain, and I wince. Even that was better than it was when the spell was in full effect, but a chunk of my left lung just got lysed. I restore it, but from what Mister Nelson said I'm going to assume that will keep on happening.

    I think I just got invalided out of this mission. I'd assumed that couldn't happen. That I'd either be able to fix myself or I'd go down and either die or wake up in a hospital.

    Ring, power level?

    Nineteen percent remaining.

    That's below my 'recharge now' level. Where was the expenditure? The particle cannon?

    Fifty four percent of recent total expenditure used on physical repair.

    Shiiiitt... That's a lot of power.

    I think Wallace is following my reasoning. "Okay, but I still don't really… Uh. Fine." He shrugs. "So, what do we do now?"

    My eyes switch between Kaldur and Mister Nelson. Kaldur's my team leader, but Mister Nelson's the one who actually knows what's going on. I think everyone else is thinking in the same way.

    Kaldur takes in initiative. "Mister Nelson, is this Tower secure?"

    "Should be. Klarion will probably be able to find a way in eventually now that he knows where it is, but I think we have a little breathing room."

    "I mean no offence, but was there a reason why you did not engage him directly? I know of your deeds as Doctor Fate, and compared with…"

    Mister Nelson smiles, and waves his left hand. "Oh, I'm not Doctor Fate. I'm just an old coat Fate used to put on, until my wife Inza convinced me there could be more to life." He gets out his watch, and this time my angle is such that I can just see that there's an old photograph in the top section. "Ah, she was a real pistol, that woman. Anywho, Klarion's after the Helmet of Fate. If he gets his sticky little mitts on it he'll turn the planet into his own personal playground of pandemonium."

    Artemis isn't satisfied. "What'd you mean, you're not Fate?"

    "The Helmet of Fate is the home of the spirit of Nabu, a Lord of Order, and ultimate enemy of someone like Klarion. When a person puts the Helmet on, Nabu gains control of their body, and can act on the material world through them. Without that link, he's almost completely defenseless."

    Kaldur's already thinking through the problem. "Then we must recover the Helmet. Are you well enough to use it again?"

    Mister Nelson sizes Kaldur up. "I'll have to be. Oh, don't worry. There's life in the old bones yet."

    I need to ask… "Can I assume that you didn't make it to London?"

    He shakes his head. "Ambushed as soon as I finished talking to that woman in New Orleans. Huckster, like I thought she would be. Huh, maybe I should of gone to London first."

    Oh heck. Then I've sent Diana to talk to Misses Masters for nothing. I really hope Mister Constantine doesn't take it badly.

    Aqualad draws his water bearers. "How far must we travel to reach the Helmet?"

    "Not far. A short walk and an elevator ride."

    I end the photon beam construct. Kon stretches his arms. He told me that it feels a bit like a warm, relaxing bath. The area of carpet around him has faded noticeably. I need to be more careful about that. I also pull one of his spare t-shirts from subspace and float it over to him. He takes it with a smile.

    Mister Nelson walks to the fireplace, and the wall peels back to reveal…

    The heck?

    Thin stone pathways floating in a putrid green void. From the orientation, it looks like the direction of gravity depends on exactly where you are on the path. After about fifty metres the one leading away from this room appears to shift to vertical, and there's some kind of multi-directional junction.

    Kaldur nods. Has he seen this sort of thing a lot? "Orange Lantern." He looks at me. "I am sorry, but given your injuries, and your susceptibility to magic attack-."

    "You think I should stay here." He nods. "I agree. I'm not going to be able to help if Klarion can take me out with a thought."

    "I suspect that the high level of background magic within the Tower's more arcane sections would also present a problem to you."

    I nod.

    "Ahhh..?" Artemis holds up her broken bow.
     
  20. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    I raise the ring at the same time Mister Nelson raises his cane. We simultaneously stop and look at each other. He nods at me.

    Ring, repair.

    An orange aura holds the parts of her compound bow in place while the ring undertakes repairs. The severed carbon fibre is mostly still there, and transmuting the little extra needed from the air is no real obstacle. For a moment I consider enhancing the bow, but the change in weight and balance might affect her aim. Still need to do something with the arrows.

    "I should be able to transmute some more trick arrows, if you think it'll help. I've also got a spare plasma pistol..?"

    She shakes her head. "Thanks, but I'll stick with what I've got."

    Mister Nelson taps his chin with the head of his cane, then raises it in her direction. It glows for a moment. "There. I can't promise much, but that should make it harder for Klarion or Onomatopoeia to affect your bow or arrows with magic."

    She smiles. "I'm looking forward to the rematch."

    Mister Nelson takes a few paces toward the bizarre stone path. "We'd best get moving. Time's a-wasting."

    The others follow on behind, M'gann flying above them with an expression of wonderment on her face. Kon's bringing up the rear, and is looking back at me as the wall slides back into place. I wave, and cover my discomfort as a sudden spike of acidity melts a small part of my liver.

    Ring

    And it's fine again.

    Now what?

    Ring, scan.

    According to the ring, nothing exists in the whole universe outside this room. And it's not too sure about the room. I gingerly stand up, and walk over to the pedestal. The double ended cones float in the crystal. I don't feel anything from them. I carefully tap the top of it with my right forefinger. Solid. Doesn't really smell, either. I stare at the translucent red shapes. Now that they're out of me they don't really look that special. The area of red is sort of cloudy, in motion but never going beyond the bounds of the cone.

    I don't understand what I'm looking at.

    I step back, and wave the ring at the faded patch of carpet, restoring its colour. Then I pace, making two full circuits of the room while examining the walls and decorations in detail. There's a large painting of a woman I assume to be Inza Nelson on the wall over the fireplace. She looks young, maybe in her mid twenties, and the painting looks old. Wonder why there isn't something more recent? A photograph perhaps?

    No electric lights. The wall brackets have candles and the fire appears to be coal. Not giving off any heat, but the room's still a comfortable temperature. Puts me in mind of Goldeneye for the N64, where the light in the room appeared to come from the lights, but would still be there if you destroyed them. There's a grandfather clock, but there are no hands or numbers on its face, and the pendulum is still. Probably a good thing, as I find ticking clocks quite uncomfortable to be around.

    "Ring, charge?"

    "Seventeen percent."

    Liver and bow, and that's two percent gone. I lose translation at five percent. Flight at ten. Particle cannon already takes more power than I have.

    I sit back down on the chaise longue.

    I quite like the colour of the walls. Always been fond of purple.

    I wonder what the emotion of a purple power ring would be? What's a bit like love and compassion? Generosity? Or am I just thinking that because of Rarity's mane?

    Who can I get to sort out the residual damage from Klarion's spell? Diana said that she was going to speak to Magala anyway. Is this her sort of thing? I do need to actually speak to John Constantine now that I've involved him in this. Not sure it's up his street though, and he does present certain… risks. Getting Mister Zatara to have a go would probably involve least work, and if I remember correctly his work commitments decrease toward the end of the tourist season.

    Oh. Ooooh. That's a better idea. I need to test the flexibility of Captain Cornwall Junior's magic abilities anyway, and my dossier's about as complete as it can get without a face to face meeting. And I doubt that he can make the situation worse. Nothing I've found suggests that the men of his family -and it is just the men who put on the costume- have that sort of talent. I'm not quite sure what 'realigning my natural energies' would do, but I imagine it'll be either nothing, or something useful. Now, how to go about introduc-.

    There's a sort of ringing sound, and Mister Nelson's ghost appears in the centre of the room. It's… He's.. a translucent gold colour, with different tones for his suit.

    Oh, hell.

    I stand.

    "Mister Nelson, what happened?"

    Oh, that's stupid. Obviously he died.

    The ghost shakes his head.

    "This is not Kent Nelson. You are speaking to the intelligence of this tower. Kent asked me to inform you that Klarion and Onomatopoeia are inside the Tower, and are attempting to intercept your team."

    Relief.

    "How did they get in?"

    The projection raises its hand, and an image forms of the outside of the tower. I see my team retreat through the open door, which then closes and vanishes. Klarion waves his hands forward, and the wall glows red.

    "What's he doing?"

    "He's forcing the Tower to remain linked with Earth, rather than retreating to the Nexus of the Subtle Realms."

    Onomatopoeia steps forward, past Klarion and nearly touching the wall.

    "'cli-clunk.'"

    The door reappears, and Klarion lowers his arms.

    "'sssuuuih. creeeek.'"

    Klarion claps as the door swings open, and Onomatopoeia stands aside to allow him entry before following him up the stairs. The image vanishes.

    "Are they heading here? Because that would be rather bad for me."

    "The Tower detected their hostility and has attempted to deal with them. They were redirected via a more.. hostile route. Unfortunately they have proven rather adept at overcoming obstacles."

    "Does the team need my help?"

    "Kent asked me to inform you that your assistance would not be required."

    What can I do?

    "Probably wouldn't be much use anyway. Thank you for letting me know."

    What can I do?

    "Could you please show me what's happening now?"

    "Of course."
     
  21. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    20:48 GMT -5


    A new image forms.

    They're running across an intersection. Artemis pauses to launch an arrow at another pathway, at ninety degrees to their own.

    "'fooosh.'"

    Not quite sure what that noise was supposed to do, but it didn't work and Onomatopoeia takes a quick hardening foam arrow to the left shoulder. Trick arrows may look silly, but they still move fast and have some mass behind them. That will have hurt. He twists, trying to get his coat off even as the foam expands. Perhaps realising that it's hopeless, he wiggles his right arm at the team's path.

    "'crack crack crack crack crack.'"

    M'gann frantically tries telekinetically hurling him out of line of sight. He sails off the platform he was on, bounces off the thin edge of the next and hurtles down… Um, away, out of sight. But the damage has been done and the team's pathway starts to come apart.

    Meanwhile, Kaldur and Kon are trying to cover Mister Nelson. Kaldur's making shields with his water bearers, and Kon's got hold of a golden tower shield from somewhere. Red lightning evaporates water and chars metal while Klarion laughs maniacally and Teekl stares intently.

    I can't do anything. I can't help.

    Mister Nelson trips, and Wallace zooms forward to help him. Together they hobble towards a great golden bell, using it to take shelter from Klarion's onslaught. Mister Nelson strikes it twice with the head of his cane and it glows with golden light. He and Wallace step into it and disappear as the platform comes apart beneath them.

    "No no NO!"

    Klarion leaps from his pathway, falling towards the bell in a way which appears to defy gravity. Can he fly? Or is it the fact that he's in his element here, in a place suffused with magic? He strikes it and passes through as the surrounding walkways break into chunks.

    Kaldur and Kon are holding on to one of the larger pieces, but they've got no way to get to the bell. The lump Artemis ended up on is spinning wildly relative to the rest, but with gravity working as it does in there it doesn't seem to be a problem for her. Motion sickness might be, as her eyes are closed. M'gann's floating freely, dodging smaller bits of rubble. She misses one, and it strikes her in the abdomen and knocks her back.

    What can I do?

    "Tower, can you open some sort of portal to them?"

    "None of the pieces of walkway near them are large enough to support a doorway."

    They're not in immediate danger with Onomatopoeia out of the picture.

    "Alright, can you manifest from one of the smaller pieces and get M'gann to drag a large bit over?"

    "That is within my abilities."

    "Where have Mister Nelson and Wallace gone?"

    The view shifts to a large platform surrounded by crenellations. It takes me a moment to realise that it's the roof. The Helmet is floating in the air next to Wallace and Mister Nelson. For a moment I am convinced that we've won, before Klarion materialises and blasts Mister Nelson in the chest. He staggers, but gets a dome shield up before collapsing to the ground.

    Wallace is the only one with access to the Helmet. Even if he puts it on, I'm not all that confident.

    What would John Constantine do?

    Oh yes. Oh, that’s beautiful.

    "Tower, can you open a portal between here and the roof?"

    "My instructions only prevent me from transporting you into the Tower's interior. There is no portal from here to the roof, but now that the bell has been rung there is an elevator that goes directly there."

    "Open the elevator, then work on evacuating the rest of my team."

    "Confronting Klarion in your present condition is extremely unwise."

    "Giving Wallace the Helmet of Fate doesn't exactly score prizes in the cleverness category either, but it's what we've got."

    The projection appears to think for a moment, then flickers. An outline of gold appears on the wall to my left, then solidifies into a lift door.

    I run to press the 'open' button. Why does it have to be a nineteen thirties style lift? What's wrong with Dolmen Gates, or fairy rings? Magic had teleportation before machinery. So slow!

    It opens, I lurch inside, spin around and press the 'roof' button. The door closes again and I see the Tower projection vanish with a smile in my direction.

    The numbers above the door begin to count up as I ready my approach. I can't block Klarion's attacks even at full power. I'm now at…

    Ring?

    Seventeen percent.

    Right. How to do this with low power?

    Ring, prepare Ready in Sixty Four Directions Stance and the random evasive pattern of your choice.

    Compliance.

    Since I mostly fight from the air, a Lantern version of the Exalted charm Ready in Eight Directions Stance wouldn't be all that much help. My version expands my awareness in all directions, as well as augmenting my mind so that I can actually process that sort of volume of information. It also requires surprisingly little energy, though in testing I ended up walking into things a lot after I turned it off.

    Floor eleven. How many floors are there? What's the betting the roof is floor twelve A? No, hang on, the other buttons go up to eighteen. So, nineteen? Is that significant? It's a prime number isn't it?

    Urgh! Just in case I forgot, there goes the chaos magic. An allergic reaction in the intestine that time. Much simpler to repair.

    Ring?

    Sixteen percent.

    Ffffffffffff…..

    No, no, calm. It's fine. I doubt I'd get out intact if Klarion won anyway. Maybe I should start keeping my lantern on the bioship? What happened to the bioship anyway? The plan was to get Mister Nelson out of here, not hang around.

    Floor eighteen. Might be a slightly larger gap between here and the next floor. I shuffle. Random evasion involves short FTL jumps and momentum control to enable rapid changes in air direction. No risk of motion sickness, but it is a little distracting. On the other hand, I really only need to issue one command and then either hide behind the wall or behind Fate. Assuming Wallace has actually put the thing on, of course.

    Shit. If he hasn't, I might have to. Would that even work?

    "Bing!"

    The lift doors open. Doctor Fate -Nabu- is in the air and holding Klarion off with a giant golden ankh shield while Klarion throws red fire at him.

    "-went out of fashion in the twentieth century!"

    But he's not my target. This isn't the Cell Games, and I'm not as tough as Vegeta.

    I spot my target just to Klarion's right, even as the Chaos Lord turns his head in my direction.

    "Ring, assimilate the cat."
     
  22. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    20:51 GMT -5


    I love cats. All of them. No matter how cruel they clearly are or how little affection they feel for me. When I'm out walking I'll routinely stop when I see a cat and try to persuade it to let me stroke it. Not sure where that started, though I suppose my Nan's now long dead cat Muffy was a good deal friendlier than my Gran's Chihuahua, Fang. Heck, the cats owned by their neighbour Mister Lusty were friendlier. Sparky and Bunty I think their names were. Gosh, they must be fifteen years dead now, at least. I've even got time… No, I even had time for the cat owned by my neighbour in the house next to the one I owned before coming here. Vicious thing. Never seen me and not tried to take a swipe at me, even if it was inside my house at the time.

    I don't want a witch boy. But I do want a cat. I want a cat a lot.

    I'm holding my left hand outstretched with my palm toward my target. The orange beam travels straight from the ring. The beam is much brighter than when I've used the ring for cutting or kinetic force, the orange colour richer and more intense. Teekl's facing Nabu, fur erect and tail extended. It hits her on her left hip, and there's a sort of orange ripple, like dropping a pebble in a pot of orange paint. Then the orange glow coats her fur, and she yelps.

    "Identity Theft in progress. Two percent complete."

    Doooooooooooooooooooooodge!

    "No!"

    My FTL hop took me back behind the elevator and upwards into the sky. Klarion broke off his attack on Nabu to throw fire in my direction, but I'm far faster than his reaction shot. Heh, this might not be too-

    "Identity Theft ability interrupted by FTL transfer. Resuming."

    Teekl takes a shot up the arse.

    I can't FTL? Oh, that isn't good.

    "Identity Theft one percent complete."

    Random dodge random dodge!

    "Orange Lantern. Your presence here is not required."

    "Get. Away. From my cat!"

    Fuck both of you!

    Klarion misses with two bolts of red lightning, then spends a moment charging a fireball. Nabu drops his ankh shield, points both arms forward and hits him with a golden ankh shot before he can finish. He staggers and drops the fireball.

    That's not a fireball! It’s a face! It's a flying burning face! Dodge the face dodge the face!

    The Tower's a blur. I don't bother trying to see what's happening, I'm moving too fast to make sense of it. My Stance construct makes me aware of incoming attacks, but I just connect the data to the autododge.

    "Identity Theft six percent complete."

    This is going to take all night.

    **Attacking his familiar is a sound strategy, but your vulnerability to magic renders you naught but a liability in this conflict.**

    Is M'gann doing that, or can Nabu do it himself?

    **You wanna try doing something helpful, like keeping Klarion off me until I'm done? Or shielding me yourself?**

    With no real cover I've moved away from the Tower to make directed shots harder. Klarion takes another ankh to the face and disintegrates, before reintegrating on the other side of the Tower and summoning a swarm of the Tower's own bricks to fly after me. Between that and the BURNING FUCKING FACE I'm not liking my chances in the air.

    Ring?

    "Identity Theft eleven percent complete."

    Oh, come on!

    Four golden ankhs spring up around Klarion, boxing him in while a golden beam strikes him from above. Again, he disappears, but his projectiles are still in motion. Would they stop if the caster died or was forced away? I know some spells keep going after their creator's death.

    A portal, black and lined with red opens behind me, and Klarion drops down onto one of the larger brickwork lumps behind me. He conjures a giant glowing red hand and takes a swing. I barrel roll out of the way.

    Oh, that's it.

    A blur as I loop the Tower once to lead the pursuit away, then dive for the Tower roof. I take position under where Nabu floats in my friend's body.

    "That shield any time you like!"

    Klarion steps off the rubble as it barrels towards us. Nabu spares me a withering glance, before lowering himself to the ground and summoning a circular golden barrier between us and the attack.

    Okay, leave the defence to him. Why is my attack so slow? Idiot, you're not focusing your avarice. You want a cat, what makes you want a cat?

    Two small sleeping bundles of black fur huddled up on my knee for warmth. In a year, Bubbles and Magic will be too big for this. Too argumentative too, they really go for each other before Bubbles establishes his dominance. But for now, in a strange house away from their familiar cattery, and their mother, aunt, brothers and sisters, they can be content with me.

    "Identity Theft twenty five percent complete."

    Teekl, left behind in the frenzy of activity, looks in confusion between Klarion and myself.

    "Maow?"

    The fire-face comes in. Nabu spreads his arms, and two ankhs form a wedge, splitting the face in half. Then they flare and it collapses to nothing.

    Hampden Park's railway station. The tiny tortoiseshell that spends so much of its time hanging around the travellers climbs onto the metal bench, peers at me for a moment, then sits on my lap.

    "Identity Theft thirty seven percent complete."

    Ring, charge?

    Twelve percent.

    Doable, as long as Nabu doesn't fuck up.

    Klarion gestures, and a huge arch of stone rises up to crush us. Without thinking I grab Wallace and pull us out of its path.

    "Unhand me at once."

    Oh. Right.

    "Sorry."

    I've lost sight of Klarion, though my link to Teekl is still in place.

    I'm sleeping on my aunt's settee. Tomorrow is Christmas, and we're spending it with them. It's chilly, and Bulmer and Polo decide that if I think it's alright to sleep on their spot then they're perfectly at liberty to settle on me.

    "Identity Theft fifty one percent complete."

    I can feel Teekl. I turn my head to the left and I know she does too. In my mind I can see what she sees.

    Teekl, reduce Klarion's power.

    She doesn't want to. He's fun, and treats other people like she treats mice. Always someone new to toy with when you're with Klarion.

    "You can't have my cat!" Klarion lunges out of a portal, hands wreathed in red flame. Nabu throws up a golden circular barrier, which flickers and shimmers as Klarion lets rip at point blank range.

    He's smiling. Why is he smiling?

    My Stance alerts me to the attack and I'm pulling myself aside even as the cluster of red lightning shards hits Nabu in the side, knocking him across the roof.

    With him out of the way Klarion's glowing red eyes lock onto me, and his unfriendly smile lengthens into a predatory grin.
     
  23. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
    20:54 GMT -5


    I'm sitting on the floor, watching dominant Klarion stalk towards his prey, hands crackling with red light. A man and a woman. They're dressed as puritans, and are backing away from him with expressions of horror on their faces. He's dressed in the same style. The male says something, and Klarion responds by raising his arms and hurling the red light forward. Their bodies are obscured for a moment, and their scent becomes strange. As I continue to watch, the visible outline inside the light shifts and contracts while Klarion laughs maniacally. He thrusts his hands forward, and the light aura collapses as he pulls out a pair of fun prey. He holds them up by the tails for a moment, then throws them to me.

    …And back in the room.

    I'm behind the stone arc before Klarion can release his spell. What the hell did I just see? I was close to the ground. I was looking up as Klarion turned two people into mice, then threw them.. to.. Teekl?

    Teekl, was that you?

    Fun with orange man? Fun hunt?

    A short and very fast flight gets me over the edge of the battlements. The line between myself and Teekl is still a give away to my position, so I create six others radiating off from her in different directions.

    Okay, I know from Dex-Starr in the comics and from my own experiences with dogs that power rings are perfectly capable of translating animal communications. I turn that ability off whenever possible. There's only so many times you can hear 'Ball! Ball! Gotta get the ball! Gotta get the ball!' before it gets really annoying. But I've never had images before. Teekl can send images? That's blooming useful that is.

    "Identity Theft fifty nine percent complete."

    "There you are!"

    Move move move move move!

    Doesn't this thing have a silent mode!

    Klarion perches on a crenellation, hands at his sides. A dark portal opens in front of him, and six red outlined tendrils emerge from the aperture. They wiggle in the air for a moment, and then extend in my direction faster than I can move. I duck, dodge and try to get them in each other's way. One still comes close to latching on, and I'm forced to block it.

    Warning. Eleven percent power remaining.

    The tendril slams into the small barrier, coils up against it and explodes in a surge of power.

    "Nabu!"

    I take cover next to the outside of the tower wall, baiting the five remaining tendrils for a moment before yanking myself over the rim. No luck. They can turn as fast as I can. As I fly past the centre of the roof I get a brief view of Nabu pelting Klarion with small ankhs. Hopefully that's taken care of. Alright, idea. I grab a pile of the brick lumps that Klarion sent after me earlier while forming a rail gun. Rail guns are fairly ring energy efficient, at least at the power levels appropriate to an inhabited area. Iron pellets from subspace strike each of the tendrils in turn while I slam the mass of rubble into the portal from which they are still emerging.

    "Aaaaaghh!"

    Klarion drops to his knees, grasping his head. The tendrils more or less shrugged off the iron strikes, slowing but healing the holes my projectiles made with no lasting damage. The portal itself however seems to have been the weak spot, destabilising and collapsing and taking the tendrils with it as it vanishes. Huh. Never would have thought that reading Titan would actually ever have practical value.

    Nabu raises his arms in the most melodramatic fashion possible, and another golden ankh materialises around Klarion, pinning his neck, arms and chest. Nabu's attention turns back to me.

    "Finish your work."

    I halt in the air, still braced for another attack as I search my memories for more happy cat videos. Or maybe that's the wrong approach…

    The keeper forces the male tiger to remain in the ditch in concealment while another keeper leads the female around to the rear of the herd. When the female makes herself visible, the gazelle flee straight towards the male, who goes into a frenzy of killing. Reintroduction into the wild will go as planned.

    Orange man? Reason?

    Klarion hunt alone, only hunt prey he can catch. Orange man hunt with whole pride. Work together to catch better prey.

    I envisage the scene on Santa Prisca, with several notable supervillains caught by my team at our mercy. Our fight with Mister Twister, working together to trick him into a position of vulnerability and then pulling him apart.

    Wait. Is a house cat going to understand that idea? I seem to remember reading that they only hunt alone, even when they live in colonies. Damn. Er, okay…

    I'm kneeling down between my house and my local supermarket while a couple of local cats nose around my shopping bags. The younger one decides to climb on my knees to better rub against my chest.

    "Identity Theft sixty six percent complete."

    Teekl hunt with Klarion.

    Teekl hunt with Klarion, or Klarion hunt while Teekl watch?

    Her head turns a little to the side. She doesn't like that idea.

    I double check that Klarion's still being held in place, then drop to the roof just in front of Teekl. I crouch, and hold out my right hand while narrowing my eyes in what I understand is an affectionate gesture for cats. She sniffs at me. She's mostly orange at this stage, but I can still see fleshy cat under the glow.

    "Teekl, NO!"

    Klarion changes. His arms and legs lengthen while remaining stick thin. His fingers extend, gaining extra joints. His eyes shrink, and start to glow red.

    The ankh holding him snaps.

    Ah, crap.

    His spine extends.

    "Nabu, you wanna do s-?"

    Klarion envelopes Nabu in his left hand, runs red lightning through him for a moment, then hurls him to the ground and raises his right foot, an expression of glee on his distended face.

    Grab.

    Nabu gets deposited behind me. "Arh." He's awake, but that attack appears to have done appreciable damage. Can he heal himself? He slowly pushes himself up to a crouch, eyes fixed on Klarion.

    Klarion only has eyes for me. "How can you be so annoying?!"

    Klarion pulls his arms back, and a swarm of red dots appear around him. Sweeping his hands forward, the dots turn into a volley of red beams. Most head toward me, but with the Stance construct still in effect I just about manage to dodge them. Nabu angles himself to reduce his profile and creates a circular golden shield, which blocks them.

    "Aaagh!"

    Klarion raises his right hand into the air and brings it down in an arc, a wave of red fire flying in its wake. Again, I manage to dodge. Then Klarion stops.

    "Uh oh."

    Teekl didn't manage to dodge. The force of the attack knocked her several metres. It looks like rolling on the ground put the flames out. Or maybe she's resistant to chaos magic by now?

    "Teekl?" Klarion raises a finger to his mouth. He looks genuinely nervous, an expression completely at odds with his current appearance. "Teek? I didn't mean it."
     
  24. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    Teekl rolls onto her chest, shakes her head, then gingerly gets to her feet. All the while her eyes are fixed on Klarion.

    "Roawwwwwwwwwww."

    Her fur stands on end.

    The ring jolts.

    "Identity Theft eighty percent complete."

    Her ears go back. Her tail lashes.

    "Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."

    "Identity Theft ninety one percent complete."

    "Hehkkhkhhk!"

    Mouth open, teeth on display. Teekl prepares to attack.

    "Identity Theft complete. Teekl of Witch World, you belong to the Orange Lantern Corps."

    There's a brief flare of orange light as the fleshy cat becomes an unusually solid looking construct. The markings on her side are still in place, but the ones on her face have moved to assume the form of the orange sigil. Then she starts to grow.

    Teekl, cut off his power first.

    "No." Klarion shrinks down, his monstrous form fading. "No. No." The red glow vanishes from his eyes. He actually looks scared. "Teekl? Teek?"

    "Rawawowowow!"

    "Ah!" He frantically scrabbles around in his pockets as Teekl -now the size of a lion- pads forward, teeth bared. He finds something, and makes eye contact with me. "You took Teekl away from me! I don't know how you did this, but I'll get you!"

    He holds up what looks like a small stone with a glowing shape carved into it, and throws it to the ground. There's a brief blast of wind and Teekl charges forward, but it's too late. He's gone.

    Teekl pads over to the area he was standing in, and sniffs it. I smell it as she does. Klarion's scent contains far more fear than she remembers smelling for a very long time. She looks back at me, and I get a brief moment of confusion as I see me looking at her and her looking at me.

    Ring, block sensory input from Teekl unless I specifically request otherwise.

    Compliance.

    "You severed a Lord of Chaos from the source of his power." Nabu is floating in the air just off the ground. Puts me in mind of how Black Adam held himself to reinforce the idea that he was separate from the mere Humans around him. "I did not think it could be done."

    "Is it permanent?"

    "Unlikely, though it will take him some time to find an appropriate anchor to serve as the cat's replacement."

    Teekl's walking across the Tower roof. She's returned to her normal size, and is sniffing something

    Oh.

    I walk over to Mister Nelson's body. I scan it to make sure, but he's fairly obviously dead.

    Damn.

    Teekl stands on his chest, circles around twice and then lays down. "Teekl, no. Come here."

    I reach down and gently pick her up to hold her against my chest. Her coat feels normal, despite its new colouration. I rub her head, and lift up Mister Nelson's body.

    PAIN!

    The ring keeps me upright while it does repairs. This time it was my normal stomach acids turning into something much stronger. A chunk of my body dissolved.

    Warning. Nine percent power remaining.

    Chaos spell pulling me apart. Lord of Order behind me.

    I turn around to where Nabu floats.

    "Nabu. Hate to be a bother, but Klarion used a rather unpleasant spell on me earlier, and taking Teekl doesn't seem to have turned it off. Would you mind-?"

    He reaches up and removes his Helmet. His blue and gold costume disappears immediately, returning Wallace to his normal clothing. Wallace drops a metre to the ground and lands lightly.

    "Kid Flash. Glad to have you back with us, but I was really hoping that Nabu could do something about that.. spell.. residue.. in my chest..?"

    His eyes go from Mister Nelson's body to the floor. "He almost.. almost didn't let me go."

    "Who didn't?"

    "Nabu."

    Oh.

    He holds the Helmet up and looks at it for a moment.

    I don't remember any version of Nabu who actually stole unwilling hosts.

    "He wants someone to wear him badly enough that he'll just steal bodies? We'd never accept that."

    "I don't think he cares."

    Wallace tucks the Helmet under one arm, crosses the Tower roof and picks up something. Mister Nelson's watch. He walks over to where I'm floating his body and places it on his chest before folding his arms across it. I ensure that they stay in place.

    I glance at the somehow still intact lift.

    "We should… We should probably get back down."

    "Yeah. I think Nabu did something to Onomatopoeia. Stuck him somewhere."

    "Good."

    "Mister Nelson.. he offered to stay inside the Helmet to keep Nabu company. That was the only reason he released me."

    "Is that bad?"

    "He put off.. going on to wherever his wife is. For me."

    "Well, I… We'll just have to find a new host quickly then."

    A long term coma patient maybe? Or someone suicidal? This doesn't sound like a job anyone should take up.

    "Nabu didn't treat Mister Nelson like that back in the forties. What changed?"

    "He got stuck on a shelf for fifty years."

    Makes sense.

    "And now we have to leave him there, because he won't accept going back there. I wonder if Lords of Order have a concept of irony?"
     
  25. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    19th August
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    "Soahc esir!"

    Mister Zatara holds his gloved left hand over my bare chest. We're in the medical unit. No one else has any serious injuries, though Kaldur needed some stitches and Mister J'onzz gave M'gann a very careful examination after hearing what Klarion did to her. Kon got some medical tape, but he heals fast when exposed to sunlight and we put some light bulbs in an old storeroom near his quarters which are nearly as good.

    Teekl's curled up on the next bed over. She tried laying next to me, but got annoyed by all of the people. Just Mister Zatara and myself left in here now. I imagine that Batman will be asking me some rather pointed questions about her very shortly.

    Tiny fragments of red rise from my torso and hover next to Mister Zatara's hand.

    "Yfillun."

    They disintegrate and disappear.

    It turned out that the reason everyone didn't leave by bioship was that someone -they couldn't tell whether it was Klarion or Onomatopoeia- attacked her when she came in to land while stealthed. M'gann had to send her away before they completely destroyed her. I went from low power to vapours repairing the damage to her left side for our journey back, and I was sweating more than a little by the time I got to my room to recharge the ring.

    Red Tornado took Mister Nelson's body from me. Wallace repeated his story about Mister Nelson's soul staying in the Helmet. Wallace kept holding on to the Helmet the whole way back. I hadn't really thought about it, but that might be his first exposure to violent death.

    There's going to be a funeral. Two, actually. Superhero life being what it is his family will perform the actual burial, and we'll go along later to pay our respects. I feel a bit weird about it. I didn't really know him. Turning up for a memorial with two of his old friends seems… odd.

    Donna went home. Diana's here, but she's in the main room arranging for Mister Nelson's family to collect his body. Presumably they know about his superhero work? She never found John Constantine, though she said that she signed an autograph for Gemma Masters.

    "Soahc esir."

    This time the red shards resist, coming out more slowly. They stop a few centimetres from my skin. Mister Zatara's hand shakes.

    Ow!

    The spell collapses, and the chaos energy re-enters my body. "I am sorry, Paul, but I do not think that I can remove any more of the Witch Boy's magic."

    Thought that would be a bit too easy. "Don't worry. I appreciate what you've been able to do. What do you think what's left will be able to do to me?"

    His hand rubs his chin. "I cannot say with any degree of certainty. Chaos magic is by its very nature difficult to predict. But, it should be less than what you experienced during your second fight with Klarion."

    "Is there any way to change what it will do?"

    "Perhaps, but only within the bounds of the original spell. It will always be harmful to you. Diana told you that she plans to take you to visit Magala on Themyscira tomorrow?"

    "Yeah, but there's someone else I wanna try first. Could you… Alter it so the effect is less, but constant? I should be able to suppress the pain from low level damage but I don't want to risk suddenly getting a serious injury while I'm on duty."

    He looks a little puzzled. "If you want. I suppose there's a certain value in predictability, but I strongly recommend that you attempt to have the remainder removed as soon as possible."

    I hold up my hands in surrender. "No fear."

    "Very well then. Soahc cigam skaep nettalf!"

    Ow. Ow.

    It isn't too bad. More in line with a modest cramp, and the ring repairs the ongoing damage as it happens.

    "Thank you."

    He smiles slightly. "Before I go, I should ask. Did Kent give any indication of what he wanted us to do with the Helmet of Fate?"

    "He wanted someone to take over. He told me that you'd already turned it down."

    He doesn't quite wince, but he does turn his head to the side for a moment. "Yes. I did not like the idea of giving my body over to Nabu."

    "Yeah, Wallace… Doesn't sound like Nabu feels like sharing any more, and I'm not sure whoever it was in New Orleans would have felt any differently than you do."

    "Diana said that she and Donna were following up a lead in Liverpool. I do not know of any practitioners of the mystic arts in that city."

    Idiot.

    Zatara looks at me curiously.

    "You think he had someone in mind?"

    "I.. recommended someone. I… Now we know what Nabu was thinking, I doubt he'd have taken it."

    "Who was it?"

    Shit.

    He's noticed that I'm hesitating.

    "John Constantine."

    His face freezes. He knows him then, and he doesn't like him. It can't be about Zatanna, she's fourteen. Ah well, Zatara's decent enough that he won't take it out on me.

    "Thinking about it, if there was a man who could get one over on a Lord of Order, heh, and might try on principle…"

    He's frowning. "I am somewhat surprised that you know of him."

    I shrug. "I've been trying to learn about magic. His name came up, I investigated… The official version of what happened in Newcastle is total nonsense, by the way."

    He considers it for a moment. "Do you mean to say that Kent was going to give the Helmet of Fate, to him?"

    "No, he was going to check up on Mister Constantine himself, then maybe ask him about it. Got the impression he was getting a bit desperate."

    He nods. "I suppose he was."

    "What's going to happen to the Helmet now? I think Wallace just wants to stick it in the trophy cupboard, but that doesn't seem... really…"

    "That… Will be a matter for careful consideration." He nods to me. "I wish you a speedy recovery."
     
  26. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    22:01 GMT -5


    He turns and leaves, nearly bumping into M'gann at the door. After a mutual apology she walks in. I vest myself and swing around into a sitting position with my legs over the side of the bed. She looks… worried for some reason. Head slightly bowed, tension in the shoulders. Is she mimicking Human body language, or do Martians show things in the same way? Has she just learned that here?

    "Hi M'gann. How are you doing?"

    "How am I doing? I'm not the one who had chunks of raw chaos magic sticking out of my chest!"

    "Oh, I know I'm not fine, but I'm not dying, and there's a good chance I can get fully repaired."

    Teekl looks up, sleepily. "Mrw?"

    Teekl, come here
    .

    She gets to her feet, and takes a moment to stretch out.

    M'gann grabs the chance to avoid what she came here to talk about. "Is there a reason why you're creating a cat construct?"

    I raise my left hand. "No orange line means I'm not maintaining her. When I turn something into a construct it just.. stays there."

    "You can turn things into constructs?"

    "Some things. It's permanent, so I haven't really wanted to test it."

    Teekl jumps onto my bed, and walks over to face M'gann. She leans forward and sniffs the air. M'gann reaches out towards her.

    "How did you know that doing this to her would cut Klarion off from his magic?"

    "I heard of a case where a wizard.. beat an enemy magic user by doing something similar."

    M'gann's hand is now within Teekl's sniffing range. She presses her nose against it. "Who was that?"

    "His name is John Constantine."

    "Oh! The man you told Mister Nelson about."

    "That's the guy."

    Teekl sits back, and M'gann goes to stroke her head. "Is he a wise and noble wielder of the arcane mysteries?"



    Um, how to put this…

    "I'd describe him more as 'cunning' and 'well intentioned'. Pretty sure he could do the job, but I don't think Mister Zatara likes him, and it looks like the League will be deciding what happens to the Helmet."

    Teekl's tail flicks, and she dawks M'gann, who snatches her hand back. M'gann flashes me an annoyed look. "Hey!"

    "Wasn’t me! She's still mostly her, and I got the impression that she grew up on a farm. Not entirely domesticated. Stroke at your own risk."

    M'gann rubs her injured hand, her face sliding back into her earlier expression of unease.

    "Are you sure there's nothing wrong? You just.. look a bit.."

    She's looking at her feet.

    !Support your teammate!

    I stand, put my best friendly smile on my face and my right hand on her shoulder.

    "M'gann, what's wrong?"

    "When you were… When we were carrying you inside the Tower, I could hear what you were thinking. About my face."

    What did I..?

    "I was pretty out of it. I don't really remember, and if I thought anything offensive-."

    "No. No, it wasn't that."

    She finally looks up at me. "You were thinking that you were sad that I haven't shown you my-."

    She stops, and looks over her shoulder at the still shut door. She wants privacy? Okay then.

    Ring, block all observation devices in this room.

    Compliance.

    "My Martian face. You thought it meant I don't trust you."

    Ah. "It's not… I know you trust me, I just.. I'd like to think that you feel able to show me that. If you don't want to, that's fine. It's not a problem for me. I know roughly what you look like anyway."

    "Could.. could you keep the door shut, please?"

    Ring, do it.

    An orange line extends from my left foot, runs across the floor and highlights the door.

    "Actually… You don't. When you showed me what you think Martians look like, in the kitchen, I was.. I was just so worried that you found out I didn't think about it. But, when I thought about it later I realized that the image you showed me wasn't all that accurate."

    Oh. "It still doesn’t matter, I wasn't thinking straight."

    "No. You.. you were right. There's no reason-" She takes a step back. **-not to show you.**

    Her hair retreats into her head, which expands, becoming squarer. Her arms, legs and torso lengthen while her living clothing pulls back across her skin, leaving just the red X. Not that she has anything to conceal in this form, as far as I can tell. Her arms terminate in the same two fingers I felt at the Tower, and her feet have three webbed toes. Her… carapace? Is hard and green, with softer parts in dull lilac. There's a membrane of some kind between her upper arms and the side of her chest. Her skull like face has some sort of fleshy bulge projecting from the back, but that can't be the source of her telepathy as she certainly doesn't have that in Human form. Her natural posture in this form appears to be bent over, knuckle walking, and she's quite a lot larger than a Human.

    I suppose she really isn't a White Martian here.

    It… She looks odd, like this, but honestly it isn't repulsive. I place my left hand on her right forearm. No, that won't be enough. I float up until my face is level with hers, and rest my forehead against her forehead. Next, I run my hands along the hard ridges under her eyes.

    **See? Not so bad, is it?** I allow her to feel every part of my reaction.

    **I suppose not.**

    She doesn't quite sound convinced. She lifts her left hand and clasps her right arm, a nervous gesture I recognise from her Human form.

    **Did the others see this when we entered the Tower? I triggered your shapeshifting to try and undo Klarion's attack, but I seem to remember-.**

    **No, I didn't change all the way, and the others thought that it was caused by Klarion.**

    Makes sense, I suppose.

    **M'gann, I feel truly privileged that you have shown me this part of yourself. I'll keep it secret for as long as you want me to, but I say again that I think you'll find our team mates much more accepting than you appear to think.**

    **I… Maybe. But I don't think I'm ready to do that yet. I can show you because you sort of knew anyway, but…**

    **You don't need to explain it to me.**

    I'm so glad that she decided to do this.

    !M'gann Mine!
     
    Last edited: Oct 18, 2019
  27. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    20th August
    10:02 GMT


    My body is telling me that it's five o'clock in the morning, and I don't know enough about my body clock to use the ring to reset it.

    I'm in Truro, Cornwall, sitting at a picnic table outside a pub called The Builders Arms. The sign depicts four arms radiating from a centre point, each holding a tool of the trade. The school summer holidays are still in full swing here and in a few hours this place will be full of tourists getting lunch. The weather's just about good enough for my customary jeans and vest combo, and I've got my environmental shield set to minimum. The sigils on my clothing are visible, but they aren't glowing and so aren't attracting any attention.

    I'm here to finally meet Robert Marrack, fourteen years of age and better known in the West Counties as Cornwall Boy. It turns out that I was mistaken when I first looked him up; he isn't called Captain Cornwall. Golden Crust Pasties just have a poorly laid out website. Getting hold of him was easy enough: he has a mobile phone, I have a power ring. Persuading him to meet me was fairly straightforward as well. I told him that I had a minor magic related problem that I hoped he could help me with. Respect to him though, he actually checked that I didn't want to speak to his father and had the sense to suggest a public place to meet.

    If he can't help me with the residue from Klarion's spell then I'm getting that trip to Themyscira after all. I'll conduct the interview anyway, though I will need to be very clear that this is merely an information gathering exercise and isn't an offer of a position.

    I think Diana was joking about me needing to wear a bag over my head.

    Teekl seems to accept being around the team, though Kon finds her a bit weird. I asked if she wanted to come but she said that she'd rather explore her new home. Well, it actually came out as "Tell place I own", but I think that's what she meant.

    Cats don't wee on stuff to mark it, do they? Oh, hang on, they do. My aunt had trouble with Polo doing that. Can a construct urinate?

    I've had the ring tracking Cornwall Boy since he left his house, but he's only now coming into view down the road. He's wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt with the Cornish flag printed on the front. As far as I know he isn't a nationalist, so he's probably just sticking to a theme in the same way I do. His hair's a dull blonde and his ears stick out a bit. He looks physically fit. Less muscular than me, but he has to actually work for it. When he gets close enough to start trying to work out where the guy he's meeting is, I wave with my right hand. He nods at me and starts walking faster. I rise as he approaches the table.

    "Mister Marrack. Pleased to meet you."

    I offer him my right hand. For a moment he seems a little off balance. Could be my accent. I think that living around Americans had caused me to redevelop the Received Pronunciation accent which I abandoned in primary school. Granny would be pleased.

    He takes it in the slightly careful way that I've noticed people with super strength do when interacting with the squishy folk; holding but not applying any pressure.

    "You can just call me Rob. Mister Marrack's my da."

    "Alright, Robert. Please, take a seat."

    He sits, looking a little uncomfortable. "So, you got some kind of magic problem?"

    "Yes, yes. Yesterday evening I had a run in with a rather unpleasant practitioner of chaos magic. The spell's been largely removed, but there's residual energy that's causing me some trouble."

    "A chaos wizard? Where was this, then?"

    "Salem, in Massachusetts."

    "And who exactly removed the spell?"

    "Kent Nelson. I don't think you'll have heard of him."

    "No, I haven't. So, why isn't he doing this?"

    "The chaos wizard killed him."

    "Oh. I'm sorry."

    "Mmm. I didn't actually know him all that well, and he'd had a good innings."

    "Right. Um. So what's this spell do then?"

    "In its original form it dissolved parts of my body in a manner determined by its caster. Now, I just get a constant burning, and I don't mean a burning sensation. It is continuing to harm me. Quite painful, too."

    He looks off to the side. I imagine he's thinking in the same way I did just after the bridge cable collapsed in Metropolis. Something's happening in front of you and you know it's your job to fix it, but you're not sure where to start.

    "Look, um, I don't really… I mean, I haven't been trained in removing spells and that. Da said that stuff can be really dangerous if you don't know what you're doing."

    "The spell isn't active, there's just some of the energy used to make it left over. I don't know.. how your.. connection with this sort of thing works, exactly. But if you can just take a look, and if you don't think you can help, that's fine, I'll just find someone else."

    He still looks a bit uncomfortable, but he's getting his head in the game. "Yeah, I can do that. Whereabouts did the spell hit you?"

    I point. "Bottom of my left lung, and centre of the abdomen."

    "Jesus! And that was dissolving you?"

    "Yeah, not a lot of fun."

    "Okay, give me a minute."

    He holds his hands out slightly, and closes his eyes. A moment passes. "I can feel it. I think. I can't really feel much from you."

    "That's because I don't have a soul."

    His eyes snap open. "What?"

    I shake my head. "Problem for another day. So, can you help?"

    "Maybe? It doesn't feel like there's much there. Da said that minor magics like that just wear off if you leave them."

    "That's where the no soul thing comes in. Normally a person's soul will deal with foreign magic energy. Since I don't have one, I need to make sure that the wound's completely clear."

    "That.. that sort of makes sense. There's.. something I can try. If this starts to hurt, you tell me immediately, right?"

    "No need to worry about that."

    Ring, monitor rate of ongoing physical damage to affected areas.

    Compliance.

    Robert sticks his hands out again, eyes unfocused but open this time. I can't see anything happen. There's no glow, no distortion in the air, but the pain fades to nothing almost immediately.

    Rate of ongoing physical damage reduced to zero.

    Hm. Lad came through.

    "That shoulda sorted it."

    I poke the impact sites through my vest. Still no pain. "I think you're right. Thank you. I was worried I'd be stuck with that for life."

    "Ah, don't mention it." He definitely looks happier now. I know that feeling. "So, this chaos wizard. Did he get a load of other people too?"

    "Not so far as I'm aware. Why?"

    "Well, I could, like, fix them up as well?"

    "No, I… I kind of made myself a target."

    "What'd you do?"

    "I beat up one of his henchmen, and then had a go at him."

    He looks at me incredulously for a moment. "I thought America was full of superheroes. What were you doing fighting a chaos wizard?"

    I smile. "Oh, you know-" I turn my right hand palm up, and generate a rotating orange sigil. "-professional occasion."
     
  28. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    20th August
    10:08 GMT


    He recoils.

    "Fucking…"

    I close my hand and remove the sigil. After a quiet moment with no follow up he calms down again.

    "I just realised; you never told me your name."

    "Correct. I didn't. Orange Lantern two eight one four, at your service. And I do mean that; I owe you for this."

    He blinks as he takes this on board. "Orange Lantern. Like Green Lantern, only orange?"

    I raise my left hand, palm pointing toward him so that he can get a look at the ring. He stares at it. "Same technology in the rings, certainly. Here-" I take a card with my name on it from subspace. "-since you gave me your name, it's only fair."

    He takes the card from me, looks at it then looks back at me. "Paul?"

    I shrug. "Dad wanted to call me Matthew."

    "R-right."

    "Is this a bigger shock than I thought it would be? I mean, you've met other.. empowered people before, right?"

    "Yeah, but… Wait, empowered..?" He shifts back in his seat again. "You're not a criminal, right? 'Cause I know a lot of superheroes have villains with powers a lot like-."

    I raise my hands to stop him. "No. The worst thing I've done was inadvertently destroying some money. Oh, and stealing someone's cat."

    "Why'd you steal someone's cat?"

    "It was the familiar of the chaos wizard I mentioned. Without it he lost access to most of his power, but she's still technically his property."

    "And the money?"

    "That's a bit complicated. Long story short? I pay for things with precious metal now, and the US Treasury Department told me that they don't intend to press charges."

    He considers. "Um. Don't take this the wrong way, but I haven't heard of you. And I read a lot about superheroes in America."

    I wave it off. "I've only been active for a month and a half, and I've mostly been in training. The missions I have been on, I'm not really supposed to talk about." I shrug. "Sorry."

    Another pause. "Does the US have a superhero training program, then? That why they've got so many?"

    "Huh? Oh, no, it's not a government scheme."

    I start feeling it. The feeling I get when I'm about to make someone really happy. It's tingly, pins-and-needles' benevolent cousin.

    "Then, who's training you?"

    I take my League-issued ID out of subspace and push it across the table to him.

    He doesn't pick it up. It seems to have transfixed him. He actually gulps. "Is that.. real..?"

    I pick it up and disappear it. "Yes. Though I would appreciate it if you didn't, for example, phone the Themysciran embassy to confirm that."

    "You… You're a member of the Justice League?"

    "No, and keep it down a bit, would you? I'm part of a Justice League run training program. If I meet their standards, and if I want to, I might eventually join the League's roster."

    "How'd you.. get into that?"

    "Recommendation from a friend of Wonder Woman; the Green Lantern from the nineteen forties. You've heard of him, right?"

    "Yeah, of course. He was one of the founders of the Justice Society. But I thought he was dead."

    "Please don't tell him that."

    "Uh, sure."

    "Actually, that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about."

    Tingly tingly tingly.

    "I've been putting together a dossier on you, your abilities and character. I want to be clear from the start: I don't have the authority to just bring someone on board. But, if it's something you want to get involved in, I'm perfectly happy to make a recommendation to the people running it. That doesn't mean they'll offer you a place soon, if ever. But, if you want to get more involved in superheroing, it's a pretty good route to take."

    "Who's.. who runs the program?"

    "Batman's in charge of mission assignments. Black Canary organises training, though my combat training is mostly handled by Green Lantern two eight one four bee."

    "Which one's that?"

    "The ginger one."

    "Oh! Guy Gardner."

    Knew it.

    "Wait. You know Batman?"

    "I've spoken to him, and he knows who I am. I'm not on his Christmas card list or anything."

    He puts his right hand on his forehead. "What do you want to know?"

    "To start with, are you interested?"

    He looks me straight in the eyes. "Of course I'm bloody interested."
     
  29. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    20th August
    21:27 GMT -6


    From the cover of trees in the Prairie State Park I'm observing a collection of wrecked cars in a scrap yard just outside of Central City. Kadabra's gone to ground, but now that I know what his technology looks like it isn't hard to find. That's a real scrap yard, but a good chunk of what my unaided eyes are seeing isn't real.

    The perimeter of his base of operations is delineated by wrecked cars along three sides and the outer fence along the fourth. Other wrecks are arranged in such a way that, from outside, it isn't obvious that you're looking at a straight wall. In the centre of the area it looks like there's another cluster of wrecks, but it's actually a hologram of some kind disguising a fancy looking caravan. Interior decoration looks pretty nice as well.

    The ring has also detected a number of subspace pockets around the area, linked to what are probably booby traps. It can't identify the devices on the other side, but it seems to think they're supposed to cause a local spatial distortion. The full description sounds like a vortex grenade.

    It takes me a second to deactivate them and smash in through the roof of Kadabra's home.

    Jam

    Oh. He isn't here. He was a moment ago. Teleportation, perhaps?

    Scan.

    Hm. Not a bad effort. Looks like he's not even going to try a phase shift this time. There are several subspace pockets with some sort of matter transmission devices in them, and a couple of others which don't appear to contain much of anything. They are tiny, and contain only tiny amounts of matter and parts of a complex energy waveform which…

    Is that..? Is he hiding in subspace? No, there's just… Oh.

    Oh.

    Teleportation suspension inside a subspace pocket. That can't be safe. Ring, how long is that set to last?

    Unable to determine. Devices make use of randomisation units whose technology defies analysis.

    Come again?

    Performing further analysis. Unable to determine. Certain similarities exist between residual radiation discovered at user's origin point and radiation within all subspace pockets. No other comparable samples on record.

    Kadabra has Bleed tech? No, no, I can't assume that the Bleed exists without more evidence. At any rate, whatever he's using must be fairly impressive to defy a power ring.

    Ring, analyse the comprehensible parts of the devices. Are you able to bring him out?

    Unable to determine with certainty. However, the components controlling the system appear to largely utilise more comprehensible technologies. The evacuation protocols have been detected, and are available at your instruction.

    I take a few steps back.

    Do it.

    The pockets containing the devices fire beams of blue-white light into the centre of the cluster, where it collects.

    How does that work?

    Ring, continual analysis.

    Compliance.

    Lightning -no, it can't just be lightning, I've no idea what it is- cracks between the energy portals and the centre point, forming a constant connection. Frozen lightning?

    I see Kadabra's outline build in the centre of the area, then the whole thing collapses, filling him in. He staggers for a moment before catching himself.

    Jam.

    He looks up, and sags slightly. "I hoped that would work."

    "Sorry."

    He flops down into a nearby armchair, and lazily waves a hand in the direction of a whiskey decanter on the sideboard. Nothing happens. After a moment he gives up. "So, what now?"

    Ring, Ophidian's Eyes.

    There are faces, historical figures he admires. People whose inventions weren't just improvements on existing technologies, but radical departures from accepted truths. Some of them are not Human, but I don't get a clear idea of era like this. His boyhood reaction to seeing the activation process of.. some sort of device.. I can't tell what it is. Failing to find the same sensation in his own studies in.. engineering? Wonder. He wants wonder. Something he doesn't understand and can't learn by just reading the work of another.

    I can work with that.

    "Now, I pump you for information and then, decide what to do with you. Let's start with: where, and when, are you from?"

    "You wouldn't know the name. It doesn't exist yet."

    "Humour me."

    "The Halo of Valgrun Septimus."

    "Explain?"

    "A halo is an artificial orbital ring. Valgrun-" He looks up at the hole I made in his ceiling, and sighs. "-you can't see it from here. I think it's in that direction." He points towards the ground.

    It probably doesn't matter. "Alright. And when?"

    For a moment he makes eye contact. "How do you..?" He sighs again. "About four thousand years in your future."

    Woo. That's a long time. I don't even know what Human society was like four thousand years ago. Hang on, is what he's been using really the limit of Human technology after four thousand years? I mean, it isn't bad, but shouldn't he have a much easier time of it?

    "Don't take this the wrong way, but the technology you've used so far, doesn’t seem…"

    "I scrambled the control systems before I left, but the people of my era would have no trouble detecting me if I'd taken anything more advanced than what I use now with me when I came to this era."

    "And I assume that you have no way to return?"

    He sneers. "Even if I did, all that's waiting for me there is a brief interrogation and then an execution."

    "And why this period of time?"

    "This period of time is known in the future for apparently anachronistic technology. It's just about the only part of Human history in which I could get away with this."
     
  30. Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    20th August
    21:32 GMT -6


    Hmm. So, he can't do much to improve this era's technology without getting spotted, and from his point of view it's all old hat anyway. He wants something new.

    "Why were you working for Klarion?"

    He makes a shrugging gesture with one hand. "He offered to teach me magic. The society I come from, we don’t really use it. It interests me."

    Bit more to it than that, I think. "When you first arrived in this era, what made you pick a fight with the Flash?"

    "I didn't, not immediately. I spent months familiarising myself with the Earth of this era, making sure the historical information I had was even slightly accurate."

    "Why wouldn't it be?"

    "I don't know. Some sort of great disaster, perhaps? Maybe they don't put completely accurate data in the archives to prevent people trying what I did."

    "Okay, so what did you do next?"

    "I tried to find a practitioner of magic who could teach me. This was back in nineteen ninety nine, so Atlantis had no formal contact with the rest of the world. I couldn't find anyone. In the end, I decided to set myself up as a stage magician. I'm actually quite skilled, even without my technology. With it, it was child's play. The money was good, and the applause gratifying-."

    "You forced people to applaud you."

    "Sometimes, yes. It made the situation bearable. But I had hoped that I'd draw a genuine wizard out to meet a fellow practitioner. No takers." His eyes move to the decanter again. I wave my right hand and he slowly lifts himself out of his chair, gingerly walks over and pours himself a glass. He then picks up an empty glass and looks at me in an enquiring manner.

    "No, thank you."

    He knocks the first one back, then pours another, adding some ice from a container built into the surface of the sideboard. "Three years I travelled the world like that. Central City… The Flash… They were flukes. I simply happened to be here when I finally ran out of patience. I had hoped that he would summon magical aid, or that a magician would be drawn there by my actions." He takes a sip. "No such luck."

    "Why didn't you try talking to Giovanni Zatara?"

    He gives me a look. "Please. He's an obvious fake. Talking backwards?"

    "Hate to break it to you, but Mister Zatara is very much a real magic user. "

    "What?"

    "This time last night he was pulling bits of Klarion's spell out of my chest."

    That did not compute. "But… Talking backwards!"

    "It's some sort of bloodline thing. I don't understand how it works."

    His left hand goes to his forehead.

    "So, why Klarion? Why not try Atlantis now? After your last term in Iron Heights you didn't have any outstanding warrants..?"

    "Atlantis gives out only slightly more travel visas than Themyscira does. They certainly wouldn't let a man with a criminal record study magic there. Klarion.. approached me a few months ago. Said that he liked the way I caused chaos, and that he'd be happy to teach me if I did some work for him."

    "Anything other than kidnapping Kent Nelson?"

    "He also had me manufacture some synthetic materials. Nothing an advanced laboratory from this era couldn't produce."

    "Anything special about them?"

    "Strong and tough, but other than that? No." He takes another sip. "Stupid thing is, he didn't actually teach me anything. I tried copying his gestures and words. Nothing."

    "Oh, that's not the stupid thing. You know what is?" He looks at me. "Mister Nelson was looking for a successor. If you'd sought him out rather than picking a fight with the Flash, he'd probably have given you a chance at it."

    "Bah! I thought he was simply a retired archaeologist! I had no way to know he was Fate until Klarion told me."

    "Really? You didn't bring any data analysis gear with you from the future? You couldn't narrow down probabilities based on known appearance and appearances?"

    "No." He stares morosely at his drink. "I didn't think it would be this hard."

    Hmm. What to do with him now? Standard procedure would be to drop him off with the local police, after checking they could actually hold him of course. But…

    He wants to experience wonder again, and believes that he'll find it in magic since his society doesn't use it. I could probably get him a teacher. Heck, he'd probably be my friend for life if I just showed him the books Mister Nelson gave me. Could I use that to keep him on the straight and narrow?

    "I should probably tell you now, I don't think that Klarion is in a position to keep his end of the deal."

    "Why do you say that?"

    "I turned his familiar into an orange construct."

    His hand tightens on his glass.

    "Magic users have powerful bonds with their familiars, and in his case me taking it cost him most of his power."

    He downs his drink, and then puts his glass down. The ice rattles as his hand shakes.

    "Mister Kadabra, I'm going to offer you a deal."

    "Oh?"

    "You may not know many magic users who could teach you, but I'm confident that I could find one or two. If you hand yourself in to the Central City police department, confess to everything you've done but not been sentenced for and serve your time, then upon your release I will arrange for you to receive tuition for as long as you remain rehabilitated."

    "And if I don't take your offer?"

    I shrug. "Nothing much. I knock you out and hand you over. You go back to Iron Heights, or on to Belle Reve, and when you eventually get out you're in no better position than you are now."

    He considers it for a moment. "Why should I believe you?"

    "You want magic, I want you on the straight and narrow. This doesn't have to be hard."

    He still hesitates. I hold out my left hand. Ring, book.

    "This is a volume on basic Elemental lore Mister Nelson gave me before his death. Outline only, you wouldn't be able to summon something with what's in here. If you accept my offer, I'll let you read it first. But, if you cheat on the deal, I will forcibly remove your implants, and I don't think twenty first century technology would allow you to rebuild them."

    His eyes flick between my face and the book.

    "I know magic users, and if reasoned argument fails I could pay a commercial mage from Atlantis to come to you if I had to. Do the intelligent thing."

    He still hesitates, hand raised to grasp. "Can I… Think about it?"

    I remove the book. "You have one week."

    He nods.

    "On another matter, I was interested to see that you know about the Orange Lantern Corps. Do you know of the War of Light?"

    "How could I not? Entire planetary populations turned into undead monstrosities. I came to this time period so that I'd have a chance to learn what I wanted before any of that happened."

    "Yes, Black Lanterns can be a bit of a handful, can't they?"

    "Black? No, not Black. Orange."
     
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