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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Mr Zoat, Jan 27, 2019.

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  1. Threadmarks: Difficulty (part 17)
    Mr Zoat

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    Difficulty

    Day 97
    17:05 GMT -5


    Kalibak flares his nostrils expansively as Ms Selton sprints down a side street towards a burning building. His eyes then shift to the fallen Star Sapphire and Mr Doe.

    "Pathetic."

    For a moment, Ms Willis looks a little less confident. Then she recovers with a jaunty smile, electricity crackling around her fists. "You want first crack at-"

    Kalibak's right hand twitches, and a manhole cover embeds itself in the armour covering my face. I surge left across the street and he slams into the space I was standing, the road surface cratering around his fists and the shock cracking the tarmac all around him!

    "-him? Oh, guess you-"

    Construct shields block the chunks of concrete Kalibak hurls at me.

    "-do."

    More electricity arcs my way, once again failing to make contact. Didn't she used to be able to control all electronics in Metropolis? No, not important. Weak to water, and any modern city has gallons of the stuff a little way underground in pipes and hydrants. Kalibak-.

    His right fist crushes my construct shield and I back up again, an energy pulse fired at his eyes merely making him blink hard as he barrels forward! I create a frictionless construct beneath his feet as I evade once again, and he-

    "Ooof!"

    -falls on his face. Okay, I think Ms Willis is the larger threat to the city. Master, locate water pipe.

    Data available.

    I blink, and green lines showing me where pipes lie under the road appear in my visual field. Good show. I fly at Ms Willis as Kalibak picks himself up, surrounding her with a bubble construct before she can transubstantiate.

    "Let me out!"

    Her eyes go white as her body is surrounded by electrical discharges, turning the inside of my construct into a plasma ball. Which is an apt comparison, because if-

    Bullets ping off my construct armour. I ignore them.

    -she puts enough power into it the air in there will turn into plasma, and there's a distinct limit to the level of plasma pressure I can contain. Hydrant, hydrant, there! I-. I don't slam her into it hard enough to rupture the metal, but instead use her to block a lump of masonry as Kalibak renews his attack. The construct cracks-

    "Yeah! Like that!"

    -while I open the hydrant and connect a construct hose to it before sticking the nozzle end of the hose into-

    "yAAAAAGHH!"

    -the construct bubble. Ms Willis shakes violently for a moment as if being electrocuted, then slumps bonelessly to the bottom of the bubble. Hm. It should be possible to contain her by keeping a small portion of her body in water at all times-. Not relevant. I never found out exactly how long she stayed unconscious for, earthing her just gives her an escape route and given how wildly she can arc I doubt that a Faraday cage would achieve much. Just dump-?

    Kalibak slams into my armour!

    "And now I have you!"

    He grips the construct armour around my head, which immediately begins fracturing! I focus on it, dropping Ms Willis to the floor as I stop focusing on her prison. Water sprays across the street as-

    "Rrrrraaaaawhh!"

    -Kalibak exerts himself. Okay, Kalibak, weaknesses. Superman. Not helpful. Radion. Master?

    Data not available.

    Ah… Looks like he's breathing-.

    Splitting focus unaided with a green ring is not a good idea, and the difficulty involved probably explains why John Stewart likes to keep things simple. Master?

    An image of a suit of Qwardian power armour appears in my mind along with a simple hose.

    "Ugh."

    Kalibak grunts as he tries to squeeze the now far harder plate armour, his fingers barely making an impression. In the meantime I get the hose construct into position…

    And clamp it over his mouth.

    His eyes boggle as high pressure water roars down his throat, displacing air as it fills his lungs. My construct over his mouth and nose prevents him from clearing his airways, and while I don't know how often he usually needs to breathe this isn't a matter of just holding his breath. He's got no air in there to hold onto. With growing desperation he gives up on squeezing and just grabs onto the hose with both hands, falling off me and onto the street as he tries to pull it off him. It takes him a moment to achieve his objective, then he rolls onto his front and starts vomiting up water in a frantic attempt to clear his lungs.

    So I restore the hose construct, shifting position as he reels back and shooting him in the eyes to try and keep him distracted. Yes… Working. He's still trying to get the hose off but his tugs are weakening. Keep it up

    Kalibak, son of Darkseid, collapses back onto the pavement.

    I have Master count a full minute before removing the hose and hoiking him into the air and letting the water run out.

    Huh.

    I look around. Windows and vehicles are smashed and a few buildings are going to need structural repairs… There are probably bodies in there, but I can't hear any more explosions. If this is all of the supervillains who were taking part in the attack -barring Ms Selton- then paramedics and other aid workers can get in there now.

    Master, location of nearest-.

    Another round of bullets ping off my construct armour, and I turn to see a Metropolis SWAT team laying down suppressing fire at me while one of their colleagues brings up an anti-armour missile launcher. Looks like the League hasn't managed to reach them. I pointedly raise my hands, construct reaching out to pick up each of my fallen foes in turn.

    They fire the missile anyway, but I block it with Kalibak so no harm done.

    "Excuse me! Do you have the facilities to hold these people?!"

    They freeze in apparent confusion, but I see someone with a corporal's markings activate their radio.

    "Maybe I should take over from here?"

    I look left-.

    "Superman?"

    My charges fall to the ground, and I'm only just able to react to get a crashmat construct under Star Sapphire. Superman… Is… Now sporting a beard and.. decidedly barbarian-looking clothing, complete with a sword strapped to his back.

    I don't-.

    The slave-animal will gather combat data on the kryptonian.

    No. I won't.

    "I'm a little surprised to see you here."

    "The.. League will be here shortly, it was just.. quicker for me. And I.. do owe you for your help. But-" I glance at the police position as Margaret Sawyer cautiously comes forward. "-it.. might be best if I do let you take over." He nods. "I'm.. glad that you're not dead."

    "You and me both." He looks around at the damage and sighs quietly. "I don't suppose I could talk you into sticking around to help with repairs, could I? I know you've already paid me back-."

    "Yes. Yes, of course. I didn't-. This isn't quid pro quo, when you died… I worked through the pain to.. be able to do this. I don't want to.. go back to.. how I was living. Whatever you need, I'll do it."

    He smiles. "I'm glad to hear it. I'll settle things with Maggie, and then… I've got some business to take care of."
     
    Last edited: May 28, 2019
  2. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 1)
    Mr Zoat

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    Angelic

    28th January
    07:28 GMT -5


    I knock on the door again. "Kara?"

    "Yeah, I'm-. Just a sec-!"

    I stand back a little and take a look around the hall outside Kara's apartment. I don't.. really know Metropolis boroughs or property prices, but it looks… Nice enough? Hard-wearing patterned carpet which looks like it gets vacuumed regularly, a few photographs of local places of interest on the walls and essentially for Kara, no tolerance for random people turning up to bother Superman's cousin.

    The door swings open, and Kara steps back to allow me inside. She's wearing a white blouse and blue jeans, and… Her emotional balance looks a little healthier?

    I close the door behind me. "Not planning on wearing Kryptonian clothing?"

    She looks away a little awkwardly, shaking her head. "No. I.. thought about it, but then I realised that Match isn't-. He's kryptonian but he's not from Krypton." She looks back at me as I close the door behind me. "He isn't ever going to live on Krypton, or interact with any kryptonians other than Kal and I. I might as well just… Dress Earth."

    "Did.. Kal-El talk to you about Daxam? Because my offer is still open, and it's not limited to him."

    "They've got their own culture, and they weren't exactly…" She sighs and looks away again. "If a part of your culture you had absolutely no respect for was all that was left, would you bother going to see it?"

    "My home country is Themyscira, and-."

    "I mean England."

    Hmm. "I want to come back with the 'if wrong, to be set right', but honestly?" I nod. "If the disconnect was that strong, I don't know. I was never that big-"

    She walks towards the kitchen area. "Can I get you something?"

    "-on. Oh, ah, no, thank you. I was never that big on Morris dancing anyway."

    She picks up a half-empty coffee mug and turns around. "Morris dancing?"

    "Country dancing with bells, sticks, handkerchiefs and a pole with ribbons on it. And accordion music. If that was all that survived I don't think I'd make a point of stopping by."

    She nods. "Did you know that Kal didn't actually know when his birthday was until I told him?"

    I frown. "No. What, didn't Jor-El put that information on his recordings?"

    She shakes her head, then takes a sip of her coffee. "Neural clones aren't simple to create, and they really aren't people. Uncle Jor started work on it before Kal was born. He's been celebrating his birthday on the day he arrived on Earth ever since he arrived here."

    I smile. "Is he going to change it, or is Superman going to get an 'official' birthday?"

    "I don't.. think he really cared. I suppose it's not-." She shrugs as she tips her mug back and downs the coffee. "Not a big deal for him. His life.. here.. started when his foster parents picked him up."

    I nods as she takes her mug to the sink and puts it in the basin.

    "Ready to go?" She nods, walking back towards me. "Do I.. need to worry about crowding Match?"

    "No. I remember from history class that clone soldiers were pretty much fully.. ready for the world the moment they were let out of their pods. And Uncle Jor will make sure the programming includes us."

    "Assuming that the programming works." I raise my right hand and generate a zeta tube. "After you."

    28th January
    07:30 GMT -5


    "Recognised, Kara Zor-El, A four five, Orange Lantern, B zero six."

    Kon and M'gann look around as we materialise. Kon smiles and M'gann waves happily to Kara with her right hand while Kon holds her left. Kara raises her right hand to return the greeting. Kal-El-.

    "Where's Kal-El?"

    Kon glances down the corridor. "He's in medical already. Probably.. checking things over." He shrugs nonchalantly, then starts strolling down the corridor in that direction. "Or something."

    Kara frowns as we follow him. "I don't think Kal actually-."

    The door opens in front of Kon and he gasps. "Superman? What happened?"

    Kara darts forward at more-than-human speed, nudging M'gann and Kon aside to get inside. I'm a little worried myself; treating a kryptonian with significant injuries isn't exactly a simple endeavour, and I'm sure that Mr White will expect him in the office on Monday.

    "It's-. Kara, calm down." I enter the room and see a shirtless Kal-El sitting on one of the unoccupied biers. Bruises are appearing all over his torso, and I can see what are clearly heat vision burn slashes across his chest and.. face. And I think that's going to be a black eye. "It's just a few bruises. I've had worse before."

    Kon looks over the injuries while Kara cautiously hugs her cousin. "General Zod?"

    "No, not this time." His eyes meet mine and what have you done? "When you said she didn't want to talk to me, you sure weren't kidding."

    "Sir… What happened?"

    "Huh?" Kon looks at me. Oh.. marvellous.

    "I located a certain individual on Earth. They expressed a desire not to be contacted further. It appears that Kal-El managed to locate them."

    "I didn't appreciate-" He rolls his right shoulder and winces. "-exactly how strongly she felt about it."

    "Sir, she was in the navy. You're lucky you're not dead."

    "Wait, there's-" Kara looks from Kal-El to me. "-another kryptonian?" I nod awkwardly. "What's her name?"

    "Karsta Wor-Ul." My eyes meet Kal-El's. "Did the two of you reach an accord at some point, or is she leaving?"

    "She didn't-" He picks up a new pullover and pulls it over his head, hiding most of his injuries. "-say." He looks around at each of us. "But don't worry. I'll get better in no time." He floats off the bier and onto the floor. "And.. I'm.. disappointed about it, but I got the message. I won't bother her again." He walks over to Match's bier and looks down at his sleeping face. The lights I remember from when I first saw him like this are far fewer in number now, no longer scanning or altering him but just keeping him unconscious. "How about we wake him up now?"

    Kon nods, then looks vaguely upwards. "Jor-El? How is he?"

    "Match is now a flawless clone of my son. Physically, he is as Kal-El was during his fifteenth year. As best as I can determine his mind is healthy. His sleeping patterns match what my records say was normal for cloned kryptonians at this point in their development, and I have cross-referenced them with the records held by Har-Zod and with Cadmus. If there are any ongoing problems they cannot be identified by data currently at my disposal."

    Ah. I glance at Kal-El, who makes momentary eye contact with me and gives me a small nod. That would explain it.

    Kon nods. "Okay. Let him out and wake him up."

    "Of course. Don't be surprised-" The lights go off and the crystal begins being retracted from around Match's body. "-if he doesn't recognise you immediately. It may take several seconds for him to become fully cognisant of his surroundings."

    "Yeah, sure."

    There's a quiet grunt from Match as the last of the crystals fall away and he transitions to what I assume is natural sleep.

    "Match?"

    Match's eyes flicker, then open.
     
    Last edited: May 26, 2019
  3. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 2)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    07:33 GMT -5


    Kon gives him a nervous smile as Match's eyes start to focus, and I notice that his sclera are now white rather than black. I'm a.. little nervous, given what happened last time we had Match in this position.

    "Hey… Kon-El." Match blinks in surprise at the sound of his own voice. "I.. know who you are."

    "Yeah. We thought it would be a good idea-."

    "I attacked you." Match's eyes move away and he frowns. "I think… And-" His eyes focus on me. "-you, you were there."

    "Ah… You remember that?"

    "Yeah. I don't.. remember why. Oh."

    "What?"

    "Cadmus messed up with making… Me. So my brain chemistry didn't work right and I was angry all the time. And I.. know that, but I don't…" He looks around at the room rather than the people in it. "This is Superman's Fortress of Solitude. No one.. told me that. So how do I know it?"

    Kal-El takes a step forward. "While we were fixing your genetic damage, we thought it would be a good idea to make sure you would know what was going on when you were well."

    "Oh." His frown deepens. "Huh."

    "You remember anything else?"

    Match's jaw tightens. "I remember the tank."

    Kon nods, grimacing. "Yeah, you and me both. Anything other than the tank?"

    Match's face stills, then he shakes his head. "No. Am I.. supposed to?"

    Kon shrugs. "The genomorphs programmed me with a bunch of things. I thought maybe they did the same with you."

    Match frowns again, eyes narrowing as he concentrates. "I think… Pictures and… Voices? But it's all… Really unclear. Like a buzzing or.. something."

    I nod. "Given your state of mind, it isn't surprising that the programming didn't take."

    "What were they programming me to do?"

    "Probably the same thing they programmed me for. To be a Superman they could control."

    Match blinks again, then focuses his gaze on Superman. "Superman's taller than me."

    "For now, but-." Kon cuts himself off. "Jor-El? Match is gunna keep growing, right?"

    "Match will continue to grow normally, and will probably grow to be approximately the same height as Kal-El."

    "So I was supposed to.. grow into it?"

    Kon frowns slightly. "Does it bother you?"

    "No, I'm… Just trying to make sense of… Stuff." He looks around our little group again. "Can I get up?"

    Kon blinks in surprise. "Ah, yeah, sure." He holds out his right hand and Match cautiously takes it, allowing himself to be pulled into.. a…

    Oh… dear. Alright, he's basically a few hours old. I wasn't expecting a great depth of emotional depth. But there's… Nothing. Not even the 'be like Superman' drive Kon had. The knowledge Jor-El programmed him with is… Probably there, but I can't see it because it isn't connected to anything. It's not even at the level of hearing a news broadcast about people you've never met; that sort of thing triggers a weak empathic reaction.

    Okay, none of that is a total surprise. Krypton used this system for programming soldiers, not for creating complex, well-balanced individuals. And even for telepathic intervention, creating attachments usually requires there to be attachments first. But as a wise robot in Isaac Asimov's stories once said, people often disproportionately value ideas merely because they were the ones who came up with them. He will come to value things eventually, there isn't a-. No, there is a simple, orange light based fix, but I'm not going to do it unless it turns out that he can't learn to value things.

    Kon half-turns towards us. "Do you know who everyone is?"

    Match nods. "You're Kon-El, Superboy, but… Brother? We were both made by Cadmus, but you're… Half Lex Luthor?"

    "That's right."

    Match turns to Kal-El. "Superman. Superhero. Based in Metropolis."

    Kal-El nods encouragingly. "That's the Cliff's Notes version, anyway."

    "I'm a.. clone of you. Is that… Important?"

    Kal-El shakes his head. "It's only as important as we choose to make it. I didn't.. react well to finding out about Kon-El, but I've had a lot of time to think things through since then."

    "So it is important?"

    "Ah…" Huh. It's actually not making him uncomfortable, he just isn't sure how to answer it well. "Having a child and raising them properly is a big responsibility. And it wasn't one I was prepared to have dropped on me like that, particularly… If I hadn't been there from the start."

    "I'm not your son. If anything, I'd be your brother. We're genetically identical."

    "… True, but if I had a younger brother your age I'd-." He pauses, probably rethinking what he'd been planning to say. "I'd want to be involved in his life as well."

    Match… Sort of nods, as if he isn't sure what to make of the statement. Which he isn't, as what programming Jor-El gave him only explained familial ties in the abstract. His eyes move over to me.

    "Paul, the Orange Lantern. Superhero."

    "An Orange Lantern, these days. Nice to see you up and about."

    He nods, not sure what to make of me. Or… Anything else.

    "M'gann M'orzz. Miss Martian. Superhero."

    M'gann smiles broadly. "Hi. How are you feeling?"

    "Disconnected. Like… I know who you all are but not what that means. Or-. No, it means that I know you from my programming and not from interacting with you, but I don't know… What the difference would feel like."

    "Do you want me to show you?"

    "Ah… Yes?" He blinks. "Oh, not-. Not with telepathy, not right away. I think I should… Learn how to do that for myself."

    M'gann nods and Match turns his attention to Kara.

    "Kara Zor-El. Kryptonian. I don't think you're a superhero."

    "That's because I'm not."

    "Um." He looks around the group again. "I think… Most of the people I know about are. So… How come you're not?"

    Kara looks away for a moment. "Because I've only been on Earth for a few months. The whole idea of someone… Being so much more powerful than everyone around them, and using their powers like that… Isn't really something I've gotten used to yet."

    "Oh." He considers her answer for a moment, then files it away. "And you're my… Cousin? Aunt?"

    "Something like that. Clones don't quite fit normal family relationship models."

    "No." Match nods. "I see that. So… What happens now?"

    Kon smiles warmly. "Since we actually had time to plan for this, we've got a few different options for you, about where you could live, and go to school… Things like that."

    Match nods in a slightly disinterested way. "Okay. So what are they?"
     
    Last edited: May 27, 2019
  4. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 3)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    28th January
    08:11 GMT -5


    Kal-El and I watch from the other side of the room while Kon and M'gann use one of the Fortress's holographic displays to teach Match about Earth. Inefficient, of course, but the social interaction is really more the point. Last time I spoke to Dubbilex he told me that they were still doing trials on telepathic education, but that would probably end up being the best thing for Match. Kryptonian clone soldiers didn't get complicated concepts programmed into them, and those who transitioned to civilian life later on were stuck learning things the analogue way.

    "This is going about as well as could be expected."

    He nods. "He's less assertive than Conner was."

    "Kon was designed to be obsessed with you. That part of Match's programming never took."

    Kal-El frowns faintly. "Was he different with the rest of you?"

    "He was.. obsessive. Frustrated, snappy, because he wasn't getting the attention he was desperate for." I shrug. "But he wasn't fixated on us. That… Earnest desperation you saw, we didn't get it."

    He nods. "And what's your super-vision telling you about him?"

    "You're asking me that?"

    "I can't see into people's souls. Sure, I can see more of the electromagnetic spectrum than humans can, but as far as telling what people are thinking goes, that… Only really shows me whether they're emotionally aroused at all based on how their arteries dilate or contract."

    "You can't see their brain activity?"

    "A little, but that's even less accurate. I'm not a telepath, and a particular area lighting up can mean a whole bunch of different things. To be honest, I'm better at telling what people are feeling based on the stresses in their voice when they talk."

    "I'm seeing barely any emotional light, which is what I'd expect. I'm not worried that he's going to go berserk again, but I consider it likely that he'll continue to be like… This for a while."

    Kal-El nods again as Kara walks in from the kitchen with… Some sort of transmuted Kryptonian breakfast pastry in her right hand. Turns out that the Fortress has a kitchen, though without access to the chemicals it needed to recreate Kryptonian food Kal-El had been limited to Earth food until Kara expressed an interest. She looks at Kal-El's face, focusing on his visible bruises. "Are you going to tell me how you got those now?"

    "A woman named Karsta Wor-Ul-."

    "A kryptonian woman. On Earth?"

    He nods. "Yes, though I.. don't know how long she's going to stay."

    "How did she get here?! Where did she come from?! If she-. If she survived, there could be-" Kal-El's already shaking his head. "-others..?"

    "'Karsta Wor-Ul' as in 'Sub-Commander Karsta Wor-Ul', of the Kryptonian Stellar Navy."

    "The.. navy..?" Kara frowns. "We haven't had a navy since before isolationism."

    I nod. "Yes. You didn't..? Cover her in history class?"

    "My history classes always focused more on ancient history. How our society formed, why we should avoid-" She glances at me and then M'gann. "-aliens."

    I nod. "They stopped teaching events and started teaching goodthinkfulness. Of all the sins Krypton was accused of, I had thought that intellectual dishonesty was one it would avoid."

    "It wasn't like history was censored. Anyone could take a look through the archives. And you can't teach all of thousands of years of history equally and thoroughly in a few hundred hours. Something had to be the focus."

    "And they skipped the events which caused modern Kryptonian society to have the form it did?"

    "How would I know?"

    Oh. Yes, I suppose.. by definition she wouldn't. "When the Science Council came to power, they ordered the fleet to return to Krypton in order to be permanently stood down. Karsta Wor-Ul was the leader of a group who went AWOL rather than spend the rest of their life on Krypton."

    "That was… They've been on Earth all this time?" She takes in the sober expression on my face. "No. Just her?"

    "I'm not sure exactly how long she's been here. At least eighty years. She owns a small farm but don't go looking for her." I turn to Kal-El. "Kal-El, did you actually… Talk to her?"

    "A little." He sighs. "I know you said that looking for her was a bad idea-"

    I gesture to his face with both hands.

    "-but I couldn't let an opportunity like that pass me by. What did she tell you? Assuming you're willing to tell me now."

    "If she isn't heading off Earth as soon as she can repair her ship now, she's probably decided against leaving. And since you know where she's been living there isn't much point holding anything back."

    I look over to where Kon and M'gann are showing Match images of Happy Harbour. I'm.. not sure that a normal school is a good idea, not until his social skills are up to the level of a teenager of his apparent age. Then again, I'm not sure how people have failed to realise that Conner Kent and Kon-El are the same person.

    "There were originally twenty or so marines with her. One by one they started getting killed… Which isn't all that surprising, given how unpopular the Kryptonian Stellar Navy had made itself in some places. So she decided to hide out here, on the grounds that the locals look like kryptonians and that the sun is yellow. When Kal-El turned up she decided to stay, as anyone looking for kryptonians would go after him first. But now that people have started to spot her…"

    Kara frowns. "Where else can she go with a yellow sun where the locals look like kryptonians?"

    "Several of the worlds of the Thanagarian Empire would work. Maybe Tamaran, if she didn't mind using body paint." I look at Kal-El. "Did she add anything when she spoke to you?"

    "A long list of members of House El whom she held responsible for the destruction of our species. I didn't realise how small a minority my father was in."

    Kara nods. "Oh, definitely. Most people thought Uncle Jor was a crank. It.. took a long time before even my dad was willing to listen when Uncle Jor tried to convince him that Krypton was unstable."

    Kal-El shakes his head. "I still can't understand why that happened. Scientific data is reproducible. Why weren't other people able to replicate his results?"

    Kara shrugs. "Scepticism regarding scientific reports isn't a phenomenon restricted to kryptonians. Humans have had space flight for over fifty years, and some of them still think that their planet is flat."

    "Even so, shouldn't there have been other scientists looking at the same data? The ruling body of Krypton was the Science Council."

    "The same Science Council whose main manifesto commitment was to isolation. The same Science Council who shuffled Krypton's alien population off into ghettos. Don’t let the name fool you, Kal-El."

    Kara looks away, shrugging. "That… I don't know. If you'd asked me at the time, I would have said that I assumed that other people looked at the data and came to different conclusions. And… Now…" She shakes her head. "Maybe they said that the seismic activity could be explained by.. a natural response by radioactive elements in Krypton's core to our use of.. force fields, or… Our historical use of exotic matter, or... Something. And the Science Council would accept that, because it would be an explanation which fit their preconceptions and it fit the evidence that everyone could see. And Uncle Jor couldn't get better evidence because he was getting frozen out of Science Council assets."

    "But, surely-."

    "We don’t send people on arctic surveys if they express an interest in seeing the great ice wall which stops the ocean running off the edge. Heck, the people who proved that stomach ulcers were caused by bacteria and not stress couldn't get published until after they deliberately infected themselves. And couldn't get research funding because pharmaceutical companies were doing perfectly well with their palliatives."

    Kara nods. "Eventually, people would have come around. When other researchers found evidence that the official model didn't support. But that takes time, and…"

    He nods. "Krypton didn't have time."

    "To be fair, he probably did sound like a crank. It's easy to see the right answer in hindsight."

    He sighs, then looks at Kara. "Any plans for the rest of the day?"
     
    Last edited: May 29, 2019
  5. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 4)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    28th January
    08:53 GMT -5


    Barely visible beams of red trace lines through the air, each one striking the centre of one of my target constructs.

    "Hah!" Kara slows her flight, smiling as her eyes simmer down. "I hit every one this time!"

    I shake my head. "No, you didn't. Also-."

    The rock-crusher construct I've had chasing her finally catches-

    "Huh?"

    -up with her, momentarily enveloping her feet before trying to crush the rest of her and decaying to orange mist as it fails against kryptonian resilience. She watches the mist decay for a moment until she's sure that it's not about to reform, then returns her attention to me.

    "You stopped moving again."

    "What do you mean? I hit-."

    I extend my left arm sideways and make a beckoning motion, reeling in the target I generated a couple of miles away. She frowns as she focuses on it.

    "You missed this one."

    "How was I supposed to see-? Oh."

    "You now have the ability-."

    "I know, Kal explained it. Microscopic vision, telescopic vision and heat vision."

    "And you can see a wider part of the electromagnetic spectrum. As a civilian, you could probably live your entire life without needing heat vision. But unless you spend the rest of your life with a blindfold, you do need to learn how to focus on things, and how to do so without incinerating them unless-"

    She nods. "Unless I mean to."

    "-you mean to, yes." I generate a dozen targets around me. "Ready to try again?"

    "Can we do it without the rock crusher this time?"

    "That was just to give it a sense of urgency, but… Alright."

    I send the target constructs out in all directions, making sure that they end up at different elevations and directions. I also alter their sizes in an attempt to throw off her ability to judge the distances a little. Kara's eyes dart around as she tries to follow them, then she squeezes them shut with a wince.

    "Problem?"

    She opens them again, blinking, and I notice that her pupils appear to be slightly dilated. She blinks again and… No change.

    "I think I'm stuck."

    "Stuck?"

    She holds up her right hand in front of her face, then moves it in and out. "I can't change my focus. I can see things a couple of miles away as if I'm standing next to them, but anything closer or further away and it's just a blur."

    "Okay. Um." I fly up to her, looking into her eyes as I do so. This never happened to Kon. Of course, his magnification isn't anything like as good as that of a full-blooded kryptonian, and he hasn't been dosing himself with gold kryptonite on a regular basis... "Okay. Shouldn't be permanent, but I'm going to try scan-"

    There's a flicker of red.

    "-ning-."

    I can smell the burning just as I get my construct shield up, the laser from her eyes deflecting up into the sky!

    Kara squeezes her eyes shut. "Sorry! Sorry." … "Are you okay?"

    "Yes. May I ask why you just tried to incinerate-?"

    "It was an accident! I was just trying to-. Unstick my eyes and I-. Pushed the wrong button!"

    Ring scans don't detect any unusual escaping heat from around her eyelids. "Is it off now?"

    She tilts her head back and opens her eyes, twin beams of ruby red failing to burst forth from her pupils. She gives it a moment and then tilts her head back down to look at me, her pupils moving normally.

    "Okay, let's just assume that was a minor cramp thing and move onto a different exercise." I dismiss my target constructs and generate a brightly glowing punching bag construct, a pale construct bunch of flowers and a construct vase. "For your next test-"

    She nods. "Hit the bag really hard, then move a flower into the vase without crushing it."

    "-you have to hit the bag really hard, then move a flower into the vase without crushing it." She rolls her eyes, nodding. "I've reinforced the bag so that it should be able to survive a couple of hits. Begin when ready."

    "Did-" The bag bends as her right fist hits home before I see her move. "-Kal-" She moves to the flower and barely gets it out of the bunch before it falls apart under her fingers. "-ever do-" She grimaces and hits the bag again. "-things like-" She slows down, gently lifting the flower and nearly getting it into the vase before snapping it in half. "-this?"

    "I don't actually know Kal-El that well. Certainly not well enough to share childhood stories."

    The next hit is weaker, but the flower makes it safely into the vase.

    "I'm a little surprised that you haven't asked him."

    "I wasn't that worried about it. I mean, I was, but with everything else… Then… I.. just.. had an off switch. And.. then-."

    "Then I pointed out that it was killing you."

    She looks awkwardly away. "Then you took me to Thanagar and I killed someone."

    "You mean the Man-Hawk?" She gives her head a small nod. "No, you broke its back. The patrol killed it. And given what we-."

    She jerks her head back towards me. "They did?"

    "Yes. Do you.. want to see a recording-?"

    "Great Krypton, no. But.. you're sure?"

    I nod. "I watched them do it. The Man-Hawk you punched wouldn't have survived even if you hadn't hit it; one of us would have downed it and the patrol would have finished it off. The only difference would have been that someone on our side might have gotten injured. Kara, have you been… Worried about that-?"

    "I felt its bones break under my fist!" I just look at her-. "It really.. doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

    "Violence?"

    "Killing."

    "Wasteful killing bothers me. Senseless killing bothers me. Accidental killing bothers me. Ending the life of someone I have decided to kill?" I shake my head. "No, that doesn't bother me."

    "You're a soldier." She nods. "I'm not. I was a mathematics undergraduate. The closest I came to that sort of violence on Krypton was.. walking past a small student demonstration. I'm doing this training so I can learn not to… Break people's spines by accident, not because I want to become a soldier myself."

    "A lot of the time, proper training means that you don’t have to lead with your most powerful attacks. If you learned to grapple or strike with lower levels of force -like Kal-El does- then you could avoid doing that even if you were fighting."

    She doesn't look convinced.

    "But your goal is a reasonable one. Shall we continue?"
     
    Last edited: May 30, 2019
  6. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 5)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    28th January
    09:27 GMT -5


    Kara can barely stop herself giggling as we head towards the training room.

    "…sound conceited about this, but last time I helped a young woman out like this… Things got a bit-"

    "It's okay."

    "-awkward, and while you're a perfectly pleasant-."

    "You're not my type either."

    I stop, regarding her curiously. She comes to a halt a moment later. "What?"

    "What is your type? Because I know a lot of people-."

    "Ah-. Look. I'm.. not really-" She shakes her head. "-looking for a relationship right now."

    "Glad to hear it." Artemis walks out of an adjacent corridor, eyebrows raised in my direction.

    "I was offering to act as a matchmaker. Or at least do some vetting."

    I get a mild eye-roll as Artemis steps up to Kara, right hand extended. "Hi, I'm Artemis. You're Supergirl, right?"

    "No, I'm Kara Zor-El." Kara cautiously takes Artemis's hand-.

    "You don't need to be that careful. I've used the Danner Formula. You don't have to worry about accidentally hurting me by squeezing too hard."

    Kara smiles, slightly reassured, as the two of them shake hands. "I'm not a superhero. I don't intend to fly around calling myself 'Supergirl'."

    "Oh. Ah, okay." Artemis turns to lead the way towards the training room and we follow on behind her. "How did the thing with Match go?"

    "As well as could be expected. He was a little.. 'spaced out', but he wasn't violent or aggressive."

    "Kon and M'gann are off the active list for at least a week while they help him settle in."

    Artemis glances back. "Is he.. gunna be living here?"

    I nod. "Yes, though Kal-El's going to be mentoring him rather than Diana."

    Kara frowns uncomfortably. "You're not… Going to make him a 'super hero', are you?"

    "No. Being a superhero takes training. We can't just… Throw people out there, whatever super powers they've got."

    "And he's effectively new-born, and doesn't have the same programming Kon-El did making him want to fight people. It would make sense for him to take part in some of our training, but only in the same way you are. If he wants to join up later, that's his decision."

    "And he's going to be educated in the same school that Kon and M'gann attend?"

    Artemis frowns. "I thought they were just gunna use the g-gnomes?"

    "Probably, and that's Match's decision. It might work out better if he started school next autumn, give him a chance to acclimatise a bit first."

    Artemis doesn't look entirely happy with my answer. "But he's physically a teenager. If he doesn't want people to know where he really came from, it's gunna look kinda weird if he doesn't know-"

    We walk out into the training room, where Kal-El is waiting for us with the rest of the active team. Richard and Kaldur look around as we come in, while Wallace-.

    "-basic stuff."

    Wallace dashes up and halts in front of Artemis. "Hey babe!"

    "Hey Wally."

    I press on as they embrace and Kara flies over to talk to Kal-El. Robert and Beryl are here, as are Raquel, Tula, Garth and Leonid. Canis-.

    "Orange Lantern." Kaldur heads my way. "Canis Minor has not returned from Ungara."

    "Still?" I would have thought that he would have come back by now. "Is that.. critical?"

    "No, but it is difficult to plan for team exercises if I do not know who will make an appearance."

    I nod. "I'll head over to Ungara after we finish whatever Superman has for us. See what the hold up is."

    He nods. "Thank you. It is most likely that he has merely been struck by inspiration and is spending his time painting or sculpting, but he has not returned to the Mountain for several days."

    Roy walks in from the direction of the showers, Wolf and the Sphere close behind. Looks like a full house, then.

    Kal-El looks around. "Aqualad, is this everyone?"

    "Yes, Superman."

    "Alright then." Kal-El calls up a holographic screen as all of us -including Kara- fall in to our accustomed arc. "Last year the Justice League became aware of a effort by a group of demons to sell-" He hesitates, his eyes rest on me for a moment. "-a narcotic based on demon alchemy on Earth." Screenshots from our first encounter with the jizzers appear on the screen. "Since then, police worldwide have been fighting to shut down production and distribution facilities. Unfortunately, the alchemical potions they use can grant the people using them short term superpowers, meaning that they're often more than capable of fighting back."

    Footage from a fight in Mexico which occurred while I was off founding the Orange Lantern Corps. A vaguely wolf-like jizzer tears first through members of a rival drug gang and then through a police blockade, bullets… Hitting, but failing to stop it.

    "The substance in question was created by a demon lord named Satanus, known to the world as the media tycoon Collin Thornton."

    An image of him in both forms appears on screen.

    "With his arrest and imprisonment last year-"

    And after what happened with The Demon Constantine, Waller quadrupled down on the magic defences and convinced the committee overseeing Belle Reve to authorise a round the clock presence of Atlantean mages. Constantine's alter-ego is cunning, but as far as I could tell he doesn't have much more raw power than the regular version. Or… Less, now, I suppose. So I don't think there's anyone with a strong motive to attempt to liberate Collin Thornton, and I'm reasonably sure that he can't escape by himself.

    "-we hoped that the supply would be cut off, or at least reduced. Unfortunately, he had already passed responsibility for that over to one of his allies, a demon named Rosacarnis."

    The picture of Satanus vanishes, replaced by one of the ones I took over New Year of the woman herself.

    "Usually, a demon lord would play his cards close to his chest. The fact that Satanus was willing to share his knowledge with other demons means that we might not be dealing with a single supply chain any longer."

    Which isn't exactly a novel problem. If only one person knew how to make heroin or cocaine the War on Drugs might actually be winnable.

    The picture of Rosacarnis disappears, and is replaced a map of Virginia.

    "State police in Virginia have uncovered what they think is a distribution network. They've made a series of arrests-"

    Images appear on the screen, police leading various people away in handcuffs and in one case standing on guard in the aftermath of their SWAT team shooting a transformed Jizzer dead.

    "-but they're a little concerned that they're going to run into harder resistance when they close in on the ringleaders. They've asked the Justice League for help, and that's where you come in. You'll be assisting police departments in Richmond, Midvale and Leesburg with detecting users and suppliers." He turns his attention to the team's magic users. "They've already been granted the warrants they need for using magic-detection spells, so you won't need to worry about whether your tests are admissible in court or not."

    A minor grimace from Tula and Garth. They were called to testify on a case a few months ago, and the uncomfortable place magic occupies in the American judicial system gave the defence lawyer an avenue for trying to get their testimony thrown out.

    "Your mission is to aid them in the detection and apprehension of anyone associated with the network. Your secondary objective is to see what you can find out about who in Hell is in charge of the supply side, so that the Justice League can try and do something about that side of things."

    "Does anyone have any questions?"
     
    Last edited: May 31, 2019
  7. Threadmarks: Angelic (supplementary, Renegade option)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    09:09 GMT -6


    "…feudal, but that's a.. rather dramatic oversimplification."

    A slightly more highbrow programme this time. Even though -strictly speaking- Jon won't be the Democratic nominee until September, no one else in the Democratic party has anything like the support that would be needed to remove him. The only real question is whether he keeps Suarez on as his Vice President, and as far as I can tell all of the justifications for having him in the position the first time still apply. The only real alternative is Russell Abernathy, the guy Jon beat for the nomination last time. He'd.. be a business-friendly choice, but I don't see Jon going for it.

    Ms Abernathy, my inquisitor and the daughter of the former Vice President, nods. "If it's not hereditary, how does an Apokoliptian join your ruling class?"

    "Technically speaking, any Apokoliptian can join the Elite. And someone born to parents who are part of the Elite might fail to Awaken. Or Awaken with a God Name that's… Not impressive or relevant enough for them to hold high office. For example, Father tried to have our God of Art killed because he believed him to be useless. On the other hand, a Lowlie who is capable, lucky and vicious can rise. It's… Similar to American capitalism. It's a heck of a lot easier to be rich and well connected if your parents were rich and well connected, but it's not a guarantee and a small number of people can claw their way upwards."

    "Do you have any examples of Apokoliptians who managed to do that?"

    "The Art-God's father is the one who comes immediately to mind. He started life as a Lowlie, joined the Dog Soldiers, fought well and survived doing so… My father approved his elevation himself. But…" How to put this? "I don’t want to overstate the similarity. In America, your people need to believe that they can rise to that level. It's the… American Dream, the fiscal opiate of the people. If they were actually capable of comprehending the financial systems around them your country would become socialist just as soon as the revolution was over-"

    That gets a small smile.

    "-but the Elite don't need the Lowlies. A human general can't fight a war without an army of privates and a legion of non-commissioned officers to command. My uncle Steppenwolf on the other hand is perfectly capable of fighting an army on his own, just as I am."

    My fellow interviewee raises his eyebrows at that. "It's a metahuman aristocracy. Ah, oligarchy."

    I shrug. "Or you could call it a meritocracy."

    He shakes his head. "I wouldn't call it that. How is there merit in… In effectively enslaving an entire planetary population?"

    "It emphasises Father's power very well. Look, I'm not… America's leaders in theory run the country on behalf of the entire population. Father doesn't run Apokolips in that way. He runs it for him, and he makes no secret of it. 'Merit', then, is 'traits which aid Darkseid', not 'traits which aid the common good'. Being skilled at something is no guarantee that the person who is so skilled will be nice about things."

    "And that's the main difference between Earth's metahumans and the Apokoliptian Elite." Mr Martin looks a little happier now he can refer to things he is more familiar with than Apokoliptian sociology. "Ever since the Second World War we've had superheroes who would have been capable of overthrowing the government if they'd wanted to. The original Green Lantern could have fought an army group, same with the first Flash. And a lot of their friends and allies were nearly as powerful. And they never did, even when the US government let McCarthy spit in their faces."

    I nod my head to the left. "Hugo Danner did try and take over Brazil."

    "And he was defeated by the All-Star Squadron."

    "Which was a government-organised endeavour."

    "An all-volunteer organisation which was created for the Second World War. Every superhuman who joined up was a superhero before they joined up. And by the time Danner launched his putsch everyone who was still working with the organisation was there because they wanted to be." He frowns. "And given what the government-run parts of the organisation went on to do, I'm a little surprised to hear you speaking in their favor."

    "Oh, I'm not. I'm defending one specific example of overreach. The problem with SHADE -as far as I'm concerned- was that they were able to evade government oversight, not that they were part of the government."

    "But they were at one point. If they had been disbanded when the rest of the All-Star Squadron was then they wouldn't have been a problem. Federal agencies have a history of repeatedly going beyond their mandate. The FBI had cannabis banned in the thirties for the sole reason of ensuring that their funding increased, which the government supported and has continued to support ever since even though it knows full well that it isn't dangerous to adults. The campaign of demonisation and racism that was generated by their efforts stymies rational discussion on drug law to this day. And then you're got the CIA's involvement in all kinds of things that frankly make me sick to my stomach."

    He leans back slightly.

    "Have you got any idea how many people the CIA helped murder during Operation Condor? How many were tortured, and how thoroughly the name of the United States was blackened by its association with South American military dictators and fascists? The effect that taint has on our legitimate diplomatic efforts to this day? I do not and will not trust these people, who want to give the federal government more and more power over people's lives."

    "Um. You… Do realise that the Department of Metahuman Affairs is -initially- giving training and official power to people who were already active as vigilantes, yes? I know what the CIA did-"

    Because someagency hasn't gotten around to power ring-proofing their servers yet.

    "-but do you know how many prosecutions fail because of problems in getting vigilantes to give witness statements, or to gather and preserve evidence properly, or who extract confessions under torture? Because I do. The Justice League is comprised of highly skilled people, but the top fraction of a percent of a job-. Well, not a job, but you know what I mean… They're not representative of what the average vigilante does. Heck, do you know the death rates for costumed vigilantes?"

    "Then arrest the ones who break the law!"

    "Vigilantism is by itself against the law. Police officers get a lot of training, and yes, they have a sophisticated system to hold them accountable when something goes wrong. Contrast that to a total free for all by anyone who wants to volunteer regardless of their skills and competencies, and who are used to disguising their identities in order to avoid blowback."

    I lean back in my chair.

    "A lot of the people who have been signing up to DEO courses are well-meaning enough, but the test scores of the ones who think they already have what it takes tell a very different story."

    Mr Martin leans forwards slightly. "How does Apokolips handle policing?"

    I crease up my face. "Policing? Apokolips doesn't do policing! Father's subordinates are free to fight amongst themselves, as long as they don't disrupt his plans. Individual.. military officers might do investigations in order to maintain order, but that's about as far as it goes."

    "It seems to me that -given your exposure to an extremely tyrannical and arbitrary system- you might be a little more accepting of creeping centralization than most Americans."

    "It's really more that -having lived in a genuinely tyrannical system- I'm capable of recognising that minor changes in how you administer existing laws aren't the same as that. And if it's a creeping expansion, it's creeping in exactly the same place as where the FBI was established." I hold up my hands. "But okay, you don't want the US government to-"

    "The US federal government. If individual states or cities want to make their own arrangements, that's up to them."

    I nod. "I'm sorry, the US federal government to take any sort of role in training or directing superheroes. Am I.. accurately characterising your position?"

    He nods. "Outside of a major war, yes."

    "Klarion killed more people than died in every war America has fought in since the Second World War. He killed more people than America lost in the Second World War."

    "It's not the number of deaths, it's the expansion of power. Wars only last a few years, while the DEO is trying to become a permanent part of all our lives. It's not being brought into temporary existence as a reaction to an upsurge in supervillain violence or superhero… Failings."

    I nod. "I recognise that I don't.. place the same value on the particular form the separation of powers takes in the American system, but I do think that a structured system offers benefits which you appear to be deriding."

    "This isn't Europe, Mister Grayven. We value initiative and individuality here. Presidential paternalism is not the American way."

    I stand, prompting both Mr Martin and Ms Abernathy to lean away.

    "Then my rebuttal will be in the form of a song."

    Ms Abernathy blinks. "We don't.. actually have-."

    A construct guitarist appears next to me as a holographic projector appears from subspace, a copy of the stars and stripes billowing into being behind me.

    "There's a land!
    Far away!
    Where men are truly free
    No gover'ment upon their backs
    They walk in liberteee"

    Mr Martin risks a confused smile.

    "And they stand upon their own two feet
    And live just how they please"

    The stars and stripes catches fire.

    "'till they get killed in some tribal conflict"

    A blue flag with a white five-pointed star in the centre appears behind me.

    "Or die of a curable disease!

    Somalia! Somalia! Land of libertarian dre-eams!
    Somalia! Somalia! Just ignore the scre-eams!
    Of the victims of warlords and pirates and gangs!
    Gunfire and shelling, explosions and bangs!

    It's the way of the future you kno-ow
    And it's where everyone who thinks that all governments are bad and unnecessary ought to go."
     
    Last edited: Jun 19, 2019
  8. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 6)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    28th January
    11:02 GMT -5


    The Leesburg Chief of Police -a man named Noah Clayborne- looks a little sceptically at the four of us.

    "I don't wanna come off as ungrateful or anything, but I was expecting…"

    "Older? Taller? Actual Justice League members?"

    "At the risk of sounding greedy… Yeah. I'm not sure I'm allowed to take kids near dangerous suspects. I feel like I should be notifying your parents or something."

    Tula smiles brightly. "I'm a final year apprentice battlemage. This is part of my field experience placement."

    "Apprentice.. battlemage?"

    She activates her water armour, shimmering magic-infused liquid covering her body in an instant. "War machines like those used by surface nations do not work well under water." She clenches her fists, and a forty centimetre blade appears in each of her hands. An instant passes and one freezes solid while the other begins to emit steam as she magically enhances the water's conductive qualities to shift heat around. "When we wish to wage war, we use magic instead."

    "So you're like an officer cadet.. or a second lieutenant? Something like that?"

    Tula opens her hands, swords merging with the rest of the armour and the water flowing back from her head. "Those positions are… Nearly equivalent."

    "Okay, I guess…"

    Artemis rolls her eyes. "I can bench press a semi, I'm bullet-proof, and I've fought jizzers, like, seventeen times before. I think I can handle this."

    "Seventeen times?"

    She nods. "Some guys in Star City tried using it." She pulls an anti-magic arrow out of her quiver. "Had to get Aqualad to pick more of these up. Hey, do you think Angelica would-?"

    I shake my head. "Not a good idea. We're trying to arrest people, not burn them alive in golden fire."

    Chief Clayborne frowns. "Yes, please don't burn my suspects alive. The Mayor frowns on it."

    Artemis-. I think she's frowning too but her mask gets in the way. "Wouldn't it just burn the demon magic out?"

    "Not reliably, not if they're long-term users or cultists." I turn to Chief Clayborne. "Superman's briefing implied that we were looking for ringleaders at this stage?"

    He looks sceptically at Raquel for a moment, who raises her right eyebrow and folds her arms across her chest. He gets the message.

    "Sure hope so. We've had.. some kind of gang around town for a while. I thought it was just.. kids, until a local priest got attacked. A patrol managed to get on-site while the attacker was still in the victim's house, reported that they thought there was some kind of.. big cat inside. It charged them, they fired…" He shrugs. "Guess they got lucky."

    "Not necessarily. Though jizzers who get doses empowered by a warrior demon can be extremely dangerous, a dose from a more average demon isn't necessarily going to make the one using it bullet resistant. How big was it?"

    He types something on his keyboard, then turns his monitor around. Hm.

    "This was taken from the officers' body cameras right after it stopped moving."

    Looks… Like a humanoid tiger with horns. No, it's smaller than a tiger would be, and the fur is more brown than orange. Blood is streaming from wounds in its chest and-.

    "They shot it in the heart?"

    "Yeah, that's what the path report says."

    "Missed the ribs, hit the heart-. Anything special about the gun?"

    "P Two Two Nine, same as the rest of the force."

    "Lucky. Very lucky. But not inexplicable. I assume that it then changed back?"

    "It took a few minutes, but yeah." He presses a button on his keyboard and the image skips to a later timeframe. A child-? No, a dwarf, pale skin and black hair in a bowl cut. "We picked up a lot of the gang right away, but the leader slipped out."

    "When you say 'slipped out'?"

    "The building was surrounded and we had guys watching the roof. He was inside when I gave the 'go' order but he wasn't when we cleared the building."

    "Are members of your force equipped with any sort of wards?"

    He shakes his head. "No. Ah, well-." He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a crucifix.

    My jaw tightens for a moment. "Unless you've had some very special training, that doesn't count."

    "Then we don't." He slips it back inside his shirt. "Think I need to add something like that to the budget?"

    "It depends on how widespread devil jizz remains. It would probably be worth getting at least a small number."

    "A small number?" Tula frowns. "Do your police really not have any personal wards at all?"

    "We don't run into magicians all that often."

    "It is still a significant flaw in your defenses. How do you know that you do not have frequent encounters with magicians if they can easily cloud your minds?"

    Chief Clayborne's face falls slightly. "How long does it take to learn to do something like that?"

    "With a teacher, it could be learned within two years. Less than two years if the student had any knowledge of magic before they began studying."

    "And you-? Atlantis sells devices to protect against that?"

    "Yes, and the weaker versions are licensed for sale to surface world law enforcement organisations."

    "Okay, I'll sort something out. But unless you've got something you can lend my guys now, I don't know how we can conduct any kind of operation until they arrive."

    I take a small reinforced suitcase out of subspace and put it down on his desk. "This is what my team uses." I open it and show him a dozen latest generation spell eaters. "I'm happy to lend them to you for the duration of this operation."

    He picks one up and gets a feel for the weight. "They need any special training, to use them?" I shake my head. "Thank you. Okay, so how do we go about finding these people?"

    Tula shrugs, which is an interesting gesture as the armour doesn't move with the shoulders beneath it. "Demon magic isn't hard to find. I will need a quiet space, drawing implements and a map."

    "We can sort that out for you."

    "I should probably speak to the prisoners as well. I have a degree of familiarity with the demonic."

    "That's a little trickier. We can hold them all, because until we get 'Buzz'-. That's their leader's name, Buzz." I nod. "Until we get him it's an ongoing enquiry. But we still need their lawyers here when we interview them."

    I nod. "That's perfectly acceptable. If you could contact the representative of one of the more cooperative ones, I can convey them here."

    "Okay, fine."

    "Artemis, please assist Tula. Rocket, you're with me."

    Two nods.

    "Hey, look." Chief Clayborne looks at us uncertainly. "This isn't… Is this going to blow up in our faces? I remember what happened in Fawcett…" He shakes his head. "I don't want that happening here."

    "Nah, shouldn't think so." Artemis shakes her head. "Most of the time, they've got a couple of fighters and that's it. And if there's anything else?" She nods, smiling. "We can handle that too."
     
    Last edited: Jun 2, 2019
  9. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 7)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
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    Raquel frowns at me as the police move one of their suspects into an interview room. Sara Birchall, seventeen years old and dressed like an almost stereotypical 'bad girl'. From all the yellow I can see I think this whole 'getting arrested while your leader legs it' experience has been a real eye-opener. She has volunteered to speak to us without a lawyer being present, which is convenient but not really very sensible.

    "So… You, Robin and Aqualad are leading teams."

    "Yes."

    "Why is it you three?"

    "Robin has the most experience of any team member, while Kaldur and I are both military officers. When the team was founded we were also somewhat more mature than our colleagues."

    "Why not Miss Martian or Artemis?"

    "Despite her age, M'gann is only as emotionally mature as a human in their mid-teens. She also had no experience of combat before joining the team. Artemis… Wasn't in the right frame of mind to lead people. Though she could probably do a passable job now."

    Hm. Have to ask if Paula would mind tutoring her.

    Raquel nods slowly. "Aren't Tula and Garth in the Atlantean military? Tula said something about their magic being more advanced because they stayed in school or.. something."

    "Yes, but they're on the battlemage track rather than the officer track. Their knowledge of magic is far greater, but their studies didn't -don't- focus on strategic or tactical planning. Kaldur's lessons with King Orin did."

    "So what do I have to do to lead a team, join the army?"

    I frown. "There isn't a formal process, though I… Suppose we could run exercises with different people in charge. Though I would remind you that we are technically all amateurs, and joining the army might actually be a better option."

    "So I have to go to officer training school."

    I shrug. "Green Two Eight One Four A joined the marines as an enlisted man. These days, there are grants for non-commissioned officers who want to undertake officer training." I smile unpleasantly. "Or if you'd prefer, there are several Lanterns under my command with extensive military experience. I have the authority to order them to train you."

    "What's with the smile?"

    "The sort of officer who becomes an Orange Lantern is usually from a martial culture, where commanders are expected to lead from the front. The training would be extremely intense, but it would make a man out of you."

    She rolls her eyes. "I'm fine being a girl, thanks."

    "We might be able to sort something out with the g-gnomes, but-"

    A police lieutenant sticks her head out of the interview room and beckons us over.

    "-we haven't…" I shrug. "Back to work."

    We walk across the room and through the door into the interview room, Sara Birchall's eyes widening as I sit down in the chair opposite her.

    "Ah… Hey."

    I smile warmly at the would-be cultist. "Good morning, Miss Birchall. I'm Orange Lantern, and this is my colleague Rocket."

    "Yeah, I…. I know who you are?"

    "Well. I don't like to presume. Now, I need to make you aware that this conversation will be recorded, and that you can -at any point- end this interview and/or request the presence of a lawyer. Do you understand?" She nods. "Alright. Now, I've read your initial testimony, and… Well, I suspect that your general approach of keeping quiet was sensible if not helpful. May I ask why you've decided to become more open?"

    "Yeah…" She shifts on her chair. "Buzz… I thought it was just… Fun? But.. if.. superheroes are getting involved… It's way more serious than just smoking pot or whatever."

    "Theoretically speaking, making no reference to any one person in particular who may or may not have smoked marijuana, yes, it's a good deal more serious."

    "What's he supposed to have.. done?"

    "Presently, he is wanted for immigration offences and maleficium."

    "What?"

    "Since demons are treated as 'human' under the law, communicating with them isn't a crime, any more than speaking to someone on the telephone is. However, the United States places certain restrictions on the ability of people who are not citizens of the United States to enter the country, and most acts of summoning break those laws."

    "No, I get-. What's malla.. fictum?"

    "Virginia's Puritan founders imported quite a few anti-witchcraft laws from England, and with one thing and another they've never been fully repealed. A variety of types of magic are covered, and the punishments are quite severe. Now-" I take a rune stone out of subspace and lay it on the table between us. No reaction. "-I know perfectly well that you're not a magic user yourself, but I'm afraid that Mister Buzz is in quite a lot of trouble."

    She nods sombrely.

    "Alright, so let's start… Do you know his real name?"

    She shrugs, shaking her head.

    "What does he look like? Where's he from?"

    "He sounds English? Blonde, short hair-" I wince, and take a picture of The Demon Constantine, Gordon Sumner, Ambrose Bierce and Welsh John out of subspace. "-kind of a thin face…"

    I lay the pictures on the table in front of her and push them towards her. "Do any of these men look familiar?"

    She looks them over, her eyes hesitating on Mr Sumner for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, he's younger than them. And his hair's longer and.. brighter?"

    Lucky escape for Mr Sumner. I return the photographs and rune stone to subspace.

    "Did you ever see him perform any acts of overt magic?" I shrug. "Levitation, conjuration or alchemy?"

    "Ah… What counts as alchemy? Because -. Ah, I think some of the others might have been… On something?"

    "When you say 'on something'-?"

    "There was this white powder some of-."

    Raquel snorts. "That's not alchemy."

    "It might have been! I didn't try it!" I give her a somewhat sceptical look. "I didn't!" She slumps, sighing. "Look, it wasn't like I was super close to Buzz or anything. The.. whole.. group was just somewhere to relax, have some fun. You should really try and find that midget guy or Linda."

    "Linda?"

    "Linda… Danners?"

    "Danvers?"

    "Maybe? I didn't really know her either, but I think she was Buzz's girlfriend or something."

    Linda Danvers. A young woman I checked up on a few weeks after first arriving on this Earth so that I could eliminate the possibility of her being a kryptonian.

    "We'll try and find her. Specifically, did you ever see Buzz hand out any sort of vial or syringe to his followers?"

    She shakes her head, and I nod.

    "Then in addition to some people consuming narcotics, what exactly was the.. special draw of the group? I mean, was it just a social gathering, or-."

    "It was…" She blushes faintly, her eyes dipping. "Somewhere to get away from our.. parents, you know? Try… Things out."

    I frown, then take a look-.

    I nod.

    "I understand completely. Thank you for your help."
     
    Last edited: Jun 8, 2019
  10. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 8)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    11:22 GMT -5


    Raquel waits until the door closes.

    "You took a look at her soul."

    I glance back, nod, then lead the way towards the room Chief Clayborne set aside for Tula.

    "Try what out?"

    "Gosh, Rocket, I just can't imagine what a group of teenagers from a socially conservative background might want to try out when their parents weren't around. Do you think we should go back and clarify it for the record?"

    I can feel her eye roll. "So what does that have to do with that Buzz guy? Did he just like to watch?"

    "That's possible. But there are ways to draw magic power from that sort of thing. And ways to use magic to lower people's inhibitions. If he knows enough about magic to dodge a police cordon, he's easily good enough at magic to do both."

    "You think he was mind controlling teenagers into 'trying things out'?"

    "Easy to explain away if anyone found out about it. But even if he was, we'd never be able to prove it. That sort of magic barely uses any energy. He'd be in more trouble for concealing himself from the police with magic."

    "She didn’t mention DMN. He might not be the supplier."

    "All sorts of things are possible. If she can't locate anything by scrying we can take Tula down to the building they were using for a meeting place, see what sort of reading she can get. Trying to locate Linda Danvers will be our third avenue."

    I learned that her father was on the local police force when I did my initial sweep, but if she hasn't done anything worse than have a boyfriend from the wrong side of the tracks I don't plan on embarrassing either of them by sticking my oar in.

    "Why not do both?"

    "Travel speed. Devil Jizz can make things that are hard for us to fight-. Fight without killing the user, anyway. You and Tula have kinetic belts and I can teleport, but if this 'Buzz' has summoned something and there are also users-"

    I push open the door. Artemis nods at us and Chief Clayborne looks up from Tula's water… Tablet? Slate? She appears to be making thaumaturgical notes on it with her right hand while holding her left over the map.

    "-somewhere else-."

    "We don't split up."

    I nod. "Split up further anyway."

    Tula's eyes clear as she comes out of her trance, and she turns to look at us.

    "Got something?"

    "I may have." She doesn't sound convinced. "They're definitely using demonic magic, but it does not feel… The energies involved do not feel like those of the combat demons we have encountered before."

    "Okay, so what is it?"

    "I think that it is a carnalite of some kind."

    Artemis smirks, checks where on the map Tula is indicating and pulls her phone out, while Chief Clayborne frowns. "And what does that mean?"

    "'Carnalite', from 'carnal', meaning-."

    He closes his eyes, nodding. "We've got a succubus."

    "Technically, there are demons that can feed on any overwhelming sensation. There are greed demons who get powered up by people gorging themselves. Succubi are just the most popular for…" I shrug theatrically. "Some reason."

    "Can't imagine why."

    Artemis holds up her phone. "It's a succubus. That's-" She nods at the map. "-a massage parlour."

    "Artemis, I'm a masseur. I've massaged you bef-."

    "Not a massage parlour massage parlour. A massage parlour."

    Chief Clayborne holds his hand out for the phone. "Can I see that?"

    Artemis presses a couple of buttons and then hands it over. Chief Clayborne looks at the place and nods before handing it back. "Yeah, I know the place. We've… Had people poke around there a few times. Never caught anyone in the act-." He looks up at me. "We haven't had any unexplained deaths where it looks like the… Deceased had been… Y'know, drained."

    I shake my head. "Succubi can kill when feeding, but they don't need to. Sex demons working in the sex trade usually just leave their partners extremely tired. That way they can get repeat business, and it's far harder for demon hunters to find them. And I know of at least one who's married." Hm. "I know that both 'DMN' and prostitution are illegal in Virginia, but how do you want to handle this?"

    He shrugs. "I mostly want to shut down the supply side. If they are using DMN then I don't mind looking the other way this once if that gets us the ringleaders. But you can be sure that we'll be going back there on a regular basis afterwards. If they're actually summoning demons then everyone there gets prosecuted to the full extent of the law, no exceptions."

    "Do you have the facilities for containing demons?"

    "Ah… Not-. No."

    I look at Tula, who nods. "I have binding chains, and I can place spells of containment on the holding cells. If they are within the usual power distribution curve for carnalites then that will be sufficient."

    I nod. "Could you put a containment ward on the building from the outside?"

    She nods again. "I will just need to direct a circle of water around the area to be warded. It will only take a few minutes as long as you only want me to create a version which requires my constant attention. A lasting version will take longer."

    "No, that should be fine." I look at Chief Clayborne. "And if by some freak chance it turns out that they've hired a demon chef or something..?"

    "Can't say I really.. like the idea, but… My job is to enforce the law. If they're in America legally and they're not hurting anyone, that's… Really all there is to it." I nod. "What sort of support do you need?"

    "A small cordon to keep people back, just in case there's a fight and it spills outside. A scene of crime team to check the place over with Tula. A van for prisoner transportation, and you'll need to make sure that the officers who will be in direct contact-."

    "They'll need your magic amulets, right." He nods. "You need a SWAT team?"

    I frown, regarding him curiously for a moment. I'm not sure what he thinks they'd do, but I suppose that he's only trying to be helpful. "Ah, no, thank you. How soon can you get that together?"

    "Apart from the forensics guys, twenty minutes? Do I.. need to hurry things along?"

    I look at Tula, who shakes her head. "I can not feel any particular build up of power. There may be an advantage in waiting until there are more cultists present."

    Chief Clayborne nods at me, then marches out of the room to set things in motion.

    Artemis shrugs. "We don’t actually know they're a cult."

    "I do not know the English collective noun for a group of prostitutes."

    "Actually, a succubus could probably survive as a masseuse, even without happy endings." Hm. "I think."

    Raquel looks between me and Tula. "If they are using succubus-flavored Devil Jizz, what can they actually do?"

    "Enhanced sexual appeal, limited shapeshifting including wings, enhanced strength and toughness… They might have thralled their clients, but I doubt it. I won't ask whether you ladies think you might be susceptible, but do you all have your wards?" Three nods. "Glad to hear it. Let's take a look at the building plans while we wait for the police to ready themselves."
     
    Last edited: Jun 4, 2019
  11. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 9)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    11:58 GMT -5


    Midday Saturday doesn't appear to be a very busy time for 'massages'.

    "What sort of ward is that?"

    Water trailing from her armour, Tula considers it for a moment. "A weak one. I would guess that they copied images from a book without any understanding."

    I nod to the police officers setting up a barricade across the road. I get a… Not entirely friendly look back. Why is-? Oh, come on. Angels mark you for death one time and suddenly you're the bad guy! Should have negotiated for a general announcement…

    "I'm starting to take that sort of thing a little personally." I blink, the world before me changing colour. "Good job it only blocks my empathic vision. Three… Probably clients, getting an actual massage. One masseuse each, receptionist and two others."

    Hm. Perhaps it's a massage parlour and a 'massage parlour'?

    "Are you picking up any active magic use?"

    "No, none." Her eyes unfocus slightly as she takes another reading of the ambient magics. "I don't think we're going to find a leader or magician here."

    "Probably not. But now that we're here, we may as well take a look. It's difficult to use demon magic in America without breaking the law, and at the very least we might be able to scare them off doing anything more with it." She nods. "Please stay here and maintain the ward." I raise my left hand to my ear. "Artemis, are you in position?"

    "Yeah, all set up here."

    Artemis is perfectly capable of covering the rear exit with glue arrows. I was going to have Raquel in reserve above the building, but that seems… Unnecessary. On the other hand, asking her where she'd prefer to be isn't how things are done.

    "Rocket, how much reading have you done on magic use?"

    "Ah, some? I don't know as much as you or Tula. DMN never caught on in Dakota."

    So I can't really justify her taking the lead here. Maybe next time, then. I mean, given Dakota I imagined that drug trafficking would be right up her street.

    "Okay, keep an eye and an ear out. I'm going in. I'll shout if I need you."

    "Right."

    "Chief Clayborne?"

    At the other end of the street I see him raise his right hand. "All set up here."

    "Orange Lantern moving into suspect premises."

    Out of ingrained habit I look both ways before crossing the road. This mission doesn't call for power armour. Light armour with a ward and a personal kinetic barrier is more than enough. If any crimes are happening in there, the presence of police is going to be more than scary enough without me crashing around.

    I push open the door and look around. They've gone for a kind of… Doctor's waiting room aesthetic. The receptionist -a strikingly attractive-.

    Hah.

    Warning: spell eater temperature increasing.

    I head over to the desk as she smiles welcomingly-. No, invitingly at me. The desk and the seating behind it are set up to draw the eye to the receptionist's spectacular cleavage. When her eyes meet mine I surreptitiously fish my rune stone out of its pouch and glance down at it. Weakly demonic. Probably a minor infusion of essence of succubus for a cheap instant makeover and instinctive glamour, which thanks to the spell eater is doing nothing to me. Are people cutting DMN with things now? The version Satanus was handing out when we first encountered it gave far stronger effects than this. Or maybe they don't think that they need it?

    "Good morning."

    She smiles winsomely. "I don't believe that I have anyone down for a mid-day appointment, sir. If you'd like to book-."

    I pull out my Justice League documentation and hold it out. For a second her face falls, then she brightens up and-

    Warning: spell eater temperature increasing.

    -I'm going to assume that she's trying to turn up her glamour.

    "Please don't do that. Justice League operatives aren't susceptible to weak magic. I'd like the arrests here to be as peaceful as possible."

    Her eyes water as-

    Warning: spell eater temperature increasing.

    -she tries turning it up again, her right hand going for her desk telephone. I tag the phone with a filament and move it into my left hand, then take a mage slayer round out of subspace, lean forward and tap the tip of it against her forehead. The tiny runes on the round shimmer for an instant, then her chest deflates, minor instances of discolouration appear on her skin and the structure of her face becomes just a little more asymmetrical.

    "When I say 'please don't do that', I'm not actually offering you a free choice, I'm just being British." I put the rune stone and round into an equipment pouch, because the round is now evidence. "Would you care to explain to me how you got access to demonic magic?"

    "I-. N-not without talking to a lawyer."

    "You do of course have that right. However, if as a result of you withholding information a demonic attack occurs I will encourage the judge to impose the maximum sentence possible. Police officers are waiting outside to arrest you."

    I scan her, but I'm not seeing any weapons or vials of DMN and a quick burst of empathic vision doesn't show anything relating to fighting.

    I point to the door. "Go now."

    With a minor false start she rises, cowed, and walks out of the front door.

    "Receptionist disempowered and coming out. Please arrest her."

    "Will do. They're definitely using Devil Ji-. Using DMN, then?"

    I smile at the Chief's slip. "She was, or something very much like it."

    "Okay, I see her." There's a momentary pause as I consider whether I should walk in on the massages in progress or head towards the other people. "You got any idea who came up with that God damned name for it?"

    "Me, actually. I wanted something that would put people off the stuff."

    He huffs into his radio. "I suppose I can't fault your logic, but have you got any idea what it's like to write that on official reports?"

    "Yes, actually, and mine go to Batman." Massage rooms are closer, so I walk towards the nearest. "Heading to the massage rooms."

    "The receptionist is asking for a lawyer."

    "I'm not supposed to mind control people into spilling their guts unless I have 'clear and direct evidence that they are a party to an imminent or ongoing attack', so I'm afraid that she's entitled."

    "Huh. Guess I assumed that you guys could do whatever."

    "I couldn't be punished for it, but it would undermine the prosecution. And probably terminate your career if you asked me to without good cause. I would action your request as you're the ranking police officer, but I would strongly advise-."

    "Yeah, no. By the book unless there's a smoking gun."

    "Understood."

    I knock, then push open the door. Another improbably attractive woman, this time with her hands wrapped around a middle-aged man's shoulders. Her patient looks up, frowning in my direction.

    "I'm.. sorry sir-."

    "Orange Lantern. I work for the Justice League and I'm afraid that you're under arrest." Another mage slayer taps her on the forehead, to much the same effect as it had on the receptionist. "Please leave the building at once and surrender yourself to the police. Sir, you aren't under arrest, but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to answer a few questions. Please dress and then make your way outside."

    "What? I was just getting a massage?"

    "And that's perfectly legal sir, but unfortunately this parlour uses demonic magic and we feel it would be best-."

    His face falls, and he turns his head to look at his masseuse and then double-takes and scrambles off the massage table, sans towel.

    "Dress in your own good time, sir. Madam, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to insist."
     
    Last edited: Jun 5, 2019
  12. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 10)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    12:03 GMT -5


    Following the glowing light of my rune stone, I pull-. I apply power ring to the simple mechanical lock keeping a small cupboard in the employee kitchen locked and open it. I then take out a vial of what I strongly suspect to be Devil Jizz and wave the stone-. Yes, yes, that's a somewhat stronger reaction. I replace the vial.

    "Samples of Devil Jizz located on site, in kitchen cupboard. Proceeding to offices."

    "Understood. This has got to be the weirdest arrest I've ever been part of."

    "Really? Seems fairly low key to me."

    "…if the other girls want a coffee."

    I turn, holding out my identification as a middle-aged woman walks into the kitchen. "Might you be the proprietor of the business?"

    Her eyes widen. "Aaahhh…"

    Carol Bowen doesn't appear to possess the supernatural allure of her employees. Blue business suit with skirt and a string of pearls, with small touches of makeup to brighten up a face heading into late middle age.

    "I'm sorry, it sometimes causes confusion when I do that. You are the proprietress of the business and -having procured a warrant- I have discovered samples of Demonic Metamorphosis Nectar, also known as 'DMN', 'Hell Juice' or 'Devil Jizz', upon your premises, having been used by your staff."

    "AhAh… That-. If they were.. doing that, I didn't-."

    "Please."

    I hold up my rune stone, which glows once more.

    "The game is over. The jig is up. And the faster you tell me how you got this stuff and who your sponsor is, the faster I can start helping you deal with the consequences. Demons do not use the American legal system. And most magicians who deal with demons try to avoid leaving loose ends."

    I spread my hands out and do my best to look friendly.

    "So how about it?"

    "I don't have to say anything."

    I nod. "Quite true. But when dealing with demons it's not just how much legal trouble you're in."

    "Who are you to tell me what to do with my soul? Angels tried to kill you last month!"

    "We came to terms. But if a demon has a connection to your soul, they can bypass a lot of the normal resistance people have to magic. It's one of the reasons why magicians who know what they're doing are very careful in making pacts with-."

    "C-connection?"

    "Yes. I know that popular culture likes to depict.. the whole.. 'selling your soul' thing as something that only takes effect after you die, but actually it.. takes effect almost immediately. Precisely what that means varies from-."

    She starts breathing rapidly, her eyes widening as she starts to panic.

    "Immediately?"

    "Yes, and the effects can vary from simple.. behavioural alterations, to the demon in question flat out puppetting the individual in question. A friend of mine dealt with a rather unfortunate case in London where a-."

    "Please-. Please help me, please."

    I nod. "That's what I'm here for. So…" I look around the kitchen. "Why don't you have a sit down,-" I step forward, gently take hold of her forearms and direct her to one of the kitchen chairs. "-I'll make some tea, and you can tell me all about it."

    Kettle, kettle… Can't see a kettle. I take a kettle out of subspace and… 120 volts… Ring, kettle cable. Direct charge.

    Charging.

    There's a coffee pot, so I don't dare trust the mugs. Instead, I take a teapot, cup, saucer and a tin of tea leaves out of subspace and place them on the sideboard.

    "So. Where did you first come into contact with demonic magic?"

    "Some… Some girl, I never got her name, sold me… Sold me some Hell Juice a few years ago. Said it would… Help with business."

    "Yes, I'm sure that it did."

    "I bought… A few doses, but I guess… She got arrested, or… Something. And then this book got mailed to me. The note said… It had instructions for making my own."

    I nod as the water boils, then tip a few teaspoons worth of tea into the pot and pour in the water. Let it stew for a minute or two.

    "May I ask about the ward around the building?"

    "The book had a lot of descriptions in it, but… Fawcett City happened and I… Didn't want to try anything dangerous."

    I turn around. "How exactly are you..? Defining dangerous?"

    "Summoning things or sacrificing.. things, or anything like that. Just a… Little magic, to help out the business."

    "Did you ever receive a request for payment for the book?"

    She shakes her head. "No. I don't know who sent it, I don't know… Why…"

    "You made Devil Jizz?"

    "That name… Yes, but I didn’t.. call it that."

    I nod. "Do you still have the book?"

    She nods.

    "Okay, I'm going to need to see the book, your ritual space… Everything you've got, so I can work out how big a hole you've dug for yourself."

    She nods again, her eyes focusing on the hands curled into fists on her lap.

    I turn back to the sideboard, form a construct tea strainer and pour her a cup. Then I walk over to the table, set it down in front of her and sit down opposite her on a construct chair.

    "How many people have you given Devil Jizz to?"

    "I don't… Twenty… Three..?"

    "Can you contact them? There are forms of ritual purification we can use to remove any lingering influence."

    She looks at the tea, then raises her head towards me. "Influence. What… Kind of..?"

    "Devil Jizz forms a two-way conduit between a human on Earth and a demon in Hell. The human takes on a small part of the demon's nature while the demon gets a dose of earthly magic power. To cut the link, we need to remove that connection."

    "And you can… Do that?"

    "Assuming all that they've done is ingest Devil Jizz empowered by a regular succubus, yes. It's not even very hard. The behavioural changes might take a while to revert and they'll probably need counselling, but we can do it."

    "What if..? What if it wasn't a regular succubus?"

    "That depends. What exactly are we talking about?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 6, 2019
  13. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 11)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    12:09 GMT -5


    I look at Ms Bowen's… Shrine. The centrepiece is the skeletal remains of a snake with a wigged mannequin head replacing its skull.

    "Shit."

    "It's just that the book said that she was the Queen of the succubi-."

    "How long?"

    "Ah..?"

    "How long ago did you make your pact with Triskele?"

    "A little over a year ago..?"

    And the angels went after me in preference to her, for.. reasons. No, reassure her, then stick her in a.. heavily warded box somewhere… What is Triskele doing these days, anyway? I don't remember seeing her last time I was in Hell, and that was a grand mustering of everyone important. I'll need to check, and I suppose that she's a little above Ambrose's challenge rating. Welsh John? Yes, he'll be the man to talk to.

    "Then we've got a little time."

    "W-what do you mean, a little time?"

    I don't want to interfere with this setup. I'll need an actual expert in demons to examine it. I hope that John doesn't mind making a trip.

    "Triskele is impatient. She'll give you things, but never for longer than five years."

    "So… So I'll just forget everything I learned about magic?"

    "No, you'll be pulled bodily into Hell. I don't suppose you remember the exact day, do you?"

    "Pulled-? W-? Day?"

    I turn away from the shrine and face the clearly terrified woman. "You've done something very stupid, but we might be able to fix it."

    I can see the tears start trickling from her eyes. Not regret, just fear, nearly drowning out everything else.

    "I'll-I'll-I'll do anything!"

    "Good show. That might actually be enough. So here's what you need to do right now: give me the contact details for everyone you've given doses of Devil Jizz to. Get the book, get any of your staff still on the premises to hand themselves peacefully over to the police and to cooperate fully. Now."

    She nods, then hurries back up the stairs towards the offices.

    I raise my left hand to my ear.

    "Ring, call Welsh John."

    "Compliance."

    Now that I'm inside the building, looking through the walls at the emotional resonances of the other people here is easy enough. Ms Bowen's fear is swiftly shared by her employees, while her own dims slightly as she begins to organise them.

    "John here."

    "Good afternoon, John."

    "Paul. Hope you don't want to take another trip into Hell."

    "No, I'd like to avoid that. But I do have a related problem."

    "Angels again?"

    "An idiot who sold themselves to Triskele."

    There's a brief pause. "Triskele, 'Worm Queen of the Succubi' Triskele?"

    "That's the one."

    "Well, they're fucked then, aren't they?"

    "I hope-."

    "Yeah, okay, I'm mostly thinking as a street magician rather than the owner of the Tower of Fate, but… Shit."

    "Yeah. Do you mind coming and taking a look at what she's been up to?"

    "I suppose I better. Where are you?"

    "Leesburg, Virginia. If you report to the local police, they'll be able to point you in the right direction. I'll let them know that you're coming."

    "Did you know that I'm authorised to use the League's zeta tubes?"

    "I.. didn't, but since they're still in cover-up mode regarding Nabu I suppose that it makes sense. They're pretending that you're your predecessor."

    "As long as they don't want me to show up to meetings."

    "They've got Doctor Balewa for general magic advice. But don't be surprised if someone raises the subject eventually."

    "I don't think it's up my street."

    "Then say 'no'. But they still need high-end magic users."

    "I don't know I'd call myself that. I'm better informed than I was, but I'm not all that much more powerful."

    I frown. "The helmet-."

    "It's a powerful talisman of Order. And I don't have to tell you how well dealing with Order has worked out before. I'm getting stronger, but it's going to be some time before I'll feel comfortable joining a body like the Justice League."

    I nod. "I've been meaning to ask. I've been thinking of you as 'Welsh John'-."

    "Despite the fact that I'm not Welsh."

    "Do you know how many blond magicians I know? Anyway, if you can just tell me what your surname is, I can-."

    "Quinn. It's Quinn. It's a bit funny, actually: I was born in Liverpool and moved to London, the same as Constantine. I ended up leaving rather than settling like he did, but our careers actually have quite a lot in common."

    Wait. Does that mean that he's a near-reboot I just missed? A character I didn't read about? They did something like that with Captain Atom when they created Breach, and Ambrose and a man named Willoughby Kipling were Constantine stand-ins. There might well be more I haven't heard of.

    That makes a surprising degree of sense. It would also open the possibility of moving him out of Vertigo; a proper John Constantine would be far too unheroic to be put in a television series or film or a mainstream comic. Though they did do that stupid Keanu Reeves thing…

    "I.. hope you've got a smaller body count."

    "Yes, but I've had more resources to draw on than he has. You know, speaking to a few of his friends, I've actually started to.. understand far better the sort of man he is." There's a momentary pause. "Okay, Leesburg. Got it. I'll be with you within half an hour."

    "See you then."

    I hang up on him, then connect back into the police and team channels.

    "Okay, the woman in charge is surrendering, and she's agreed to talk."

    "What did you offer her?"

    Chief Clayborne sounds like he's waiting for me to drop a bomb on him. Which I suppose that I am, but not in the way he expects.

    "Protection from her own stupidity. She's agreed to hand over all records in exchange for us -by which I mean my team- breaking the pact she made to learn how to make Devil Jizz."

    "She was the source?"

    "So she says, though we won't know for certain until an expert takes a look at her setup. I've already called him in."

    "Is he a priest?"

    "No." I smile. "Doctor Fate. You did want a Justice League member."
     
    Last edited: Jun 7, 2019
  14. Threadmarks: Angelic (supplementary, Renegade option)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    12:20 GMT -7


    Queen Morgan and Circe regard each other awkwardly for a moment. And it's like… The air is thickening as they both reach out to the world's magics, to feel one another's actions and to prepare their own spells to activate at a moment's notice. The world stops flowing as it should and begins increasingly to flow in accordance with their designs. Circe's done a good deal to make up for the power she lost, and from what I feel it would appear that Morgan is in the same weight class as her.

    "Circe. You're looking well."

    Circe smiles. "Yes, I am. Escaping that infernal prophecy has taken years off." She makes a small gesture with her right hand in the direction of Morgan's face. "Is that mask really necessary? Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, but I rather assume that if you're talking to me that it's because you require my assistance with an arcane matter?"

    Morgan turns her head towards myself and Geoff. "I'm not comfortable parading myself before an audience."

    "Then at least remove your wards, so that I can take a closer took without having to overpower them-" Morgan's head snaps back to her. "-first."

    "As if you had that power."

    I hold up my hands. "I don't believe that this avenue of conversation is particularly helpful."

    Circe raises her eyebrows. "And what do you mean by that?"

    "While I understand why you're being so… Catty, surely you can appreciate why Queen Morgan is reluctant to reveal her weaknesses to us?"

    "Yesss."

    "And Queen Morgan, Circe has invited you into her place of work in the spirit of cooperation. Asking a little openness in return is hardly unreasonable."

    "It has been… A considerable time since I dealt with an equal in power so openly."

    "Then.. you are free to leave. As arousing as I'm finding this grandstanding, there's only so much time in the day."

    Circe's eyes narrow. "How, precisely, is this arousing to you?"

    I shrug. "What can I say, power and the will to use it are signs of a good mate on Apokolips. I can feel you both reaching out to local mana fields, dominating them, twisting them in accordance with your natures, turning them to your ends. It's… Somewhat distracting." I smile. "But not in a bad way. By all means, keep going."

    And then I feel it as they both ease off.

    I look down at my crotch. "Sorry, chum."

    Circe sighs quietly. "Perhaps if I take the lead?" Morgan cautiously inclines her head. "Though my knowledge has been hard-won over the course of the centuries, my power and vitality were gifts from Hecate. One she could take back at a moment's notice. Grayven advised me to simply renounce her gift, and offered to aid me in getting a replacement for both."

    "I thought that you felt weaker."

    Circe's face tightens very slightly, but she decides to let the implied slight go. She nods. "It will be some considerable time before I gain in my own right the ability to project the level of arcane force which Hecate's gift provided to me, but when I finally do it will be my power."

    Hmm. Oh, that might explain the attitude. I.. think that the two of them have cooperated before, but with Hecate's blessing Circe would have been the more powerful of the two by some considerable margin. And two to three times as old. I don't image that Morgan is the sort to be happy about being overshadowed. Although… As Circe said, her power now is her own. If they actually fought and Morgan lost, it would be a matter of superior skill and not of who had persuaded the Goddess of Magic to give whom a massive unearned boost. That would be a critical blow to the ego.

    Morgan tilts her head back slightly. "If you are so glad to be rid of Hecate's boon now, why did you cling to it so tightly for so long?"

    "A past suitor of mine granted me immortality without youth as a.. gift. I was desperate to escape from being a frail old woman, and at the time I… Didn't know how to perform the vitality draining spell which you employ. Hecate's boon granted me that escape, and the power to defend myself should my decidedly ex-suitor return."

    "I see." Morgan turns her head to take in the room. "And what is… This.. place?"

    I smile. "Soft power."

    Circe nods. "Indirect control. There's so little knowledge of magic in the world that governments are falling over themselves to benefit from my teaching. My rise will be slow… But I have no need to hurry."

    "Why show me this?"

    "Because of your insistence that you are the rightful ruler of Britain."

    Morgan turns to face Geoff. "Do you feel threatened? Is your grip on power less solid than you hoped it would be?"

    "The Conservative and Labour parties are facing total annihilation at the forthcoming General Election. All reliable polling says that we'll have a Reform landslide. I'll be Prime Minister within a month." Geoff smiles faintly. "God help me."

    "But not king."

    "I still can't grasp why you're so fixated on that title."

    "Because it was denied to me by a usurper. Regardless of what you tell me of the changes Britain has undergone-." She stops.

    "Have you any idea how often royal dynasties have been overthrown since you retreated into Albion?"

    "No." She looks around at us. "That is not what this is about. You wish to make me an offer. You wish for me to renounce my claim."

    "You don't have a claim. There are multiple acts of parliament covering the royal succession and none of them mention you. Yes, at one time you could have argued your case, but that time was a very long time ago. That said, I would rather that you pursued whatever outcome which you think that you deserve peacefully than make assaults upon the country."

    "What manner of nation is it that gives a claimant the freedom to call for the overthrow of their monarch?"

    "The fact that you don’t know is an ample demonstration of why you're unsuited to the office." Geoff pauses for a moment. "We've.. settled things with Buckingham Palace. The succession is being altered so that the people involved with the Caligula club won't inherit. In exchange, the people who were involved won't be prosecuted. The press aren't happy, but they learn to live with it."

    "And the new Crown Prince is unwed?"

    "No, he's married. But his son isn't. We don't arrange marriages for royals these days. Whether or not he weds your daughter is up to him."

    Circe nods. "And even if that option is unappealing, we can arrange for both you and Morgana to gain additional exposure to modern customs. You will have a far better chance of convincing the people of Britain to follow you if you understand how they live in this era."

    I nod. "And how to govern a modern country. I'm not convinced that either of you could do the job at present." Carve the Keystone.

    "And I assume that you would all resist any attempt at taking the crown by force majeure."

    I incline my head. "Naturally. My preference is to resolve disputes peacefully, but I consider resolving them permanently to be a decent consolation prize. No sense letting things fester."

    Morgan remains still for a moment.

    "You implied that you had a solution to ageing."

    I nod again. "One I could share with an ally. Not one I could share with a potentially hostile power. That would simply be foolish."

    "I see." She turns her head to face Circe. "Perhaps you could show me the rest of your school?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 8, 2019
  15. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 12)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    12:43 GMT -5


    John Quinn as Doctor Fate floats a short way off the ground, levitating the book Ms Bowen handed over at head-. Or rather, at helmet height as he looks through it. Tula has entered the building with the forensics team, in order to keep them away from anything thaumically active rather than to do any sort of examination herself. Demon magic is the one area where the surface world is actually more sophisticated than Atlantis.

    The small crowd on the other side of the police barricades grew once the news got around that a member of the Justice League who hasn't been seen in public in over six months had put in an appearance, but it's dropping off now that it's clear that he isn't going to do anything interesting. A few of the police are taking the time to stare at him, but I can't really begrudge them that. There isn't a lot happening, and expecting them to remain fully alert at all times is simply unrealistic.

    "Rocket, check in?"

    "Rocket here. We're about halfway through the list."

    "Any trouble?"

    "How do you mean 'trouble'?"

    "Are they cooperating?"

    "You mean, are they cooperating with the police officers arresting them for soliciting and substance abuse?"

    "Yes. Though I believe that the arrest warrant also includes mind control."

    "Some of them have kids. One had a boyfriend who didn't know what her job was."

    "And I'm sure that they'll be very glad that she's not going to get dragged into Hell." I take a breath. "Rocket, I don't think that laws against prostitution are sensible, saving in that they make profiting from people trafficking slightly more difficult. I have two friends who are former prostitutes. If it wasn't for the demon magic I'd probably turn a blind eye to the whole situation but they're using demon magic so I can't. Also, they were deliberately altering the minds of their clients in order to secure repeat custom."

    "Yeah, I get it." She sighs. "Those friends of yours. Who are they?"

    "Holly Robinson and Selina Kyle."

    "How did they.. get into it?"

    "Gotham City Child Services."

    "They were running a pedo ring?"

    "No, they were just really bad at their jobs. It's not exactly a well-funded department in most cities, and with Gotham's economic decay and graft they never really had a chance. Low educational attainment, no home support, poor diet, no safety…" I frown. "No offence intended to Dakota, but is this sort of thing really novel for you?"

    "Icon doesn't think prostitution should be illegal, either. He doesn't think government should have social policy. His 'grandfather' fought prohibition and internment."

    "And you?"

    "It's not like I don't get that banning it doesn't suddenly give the women doing it new jobs, I just…"

    "Okay, you don’t like it. How would you fix it? What do you want?"

    "To suddenly give every woman working in the sex-."

    "Just the women?"

    "Most-. Yeah, okay, everyone working in the sex trade a better education. High school graduate level. And-."

    "Do you have good data on what proportion lack that level of education? As opposed to taking it up due to a lack of employment opportunities and sticking with it due to the relatively high tax free pay?"

    "No, but I can't fix the whole economy."

    "If not you, then who?" I shrug. "Education is an easy enough fix. The genomorphs are looking for volunteers for their telepathic education experiments. If you can get me their contact details I'll put their names down. No charge."

    "I don't really know them personally. I'll definitely put out some fliers, though."

    "Might be worth asking them what they're paid per hour, so you can work out what sort of employment you'll need to create to replace it."

    "And how am I supposed to do that?"

    "I don't know. Wasn't Hardware moaning about Edwin Alva owning his inventions? Get him to make something with civilian applications and site the factory in Datoka. Look at it as homework."

    "Ah… Yeah, okay. I'll look into it. Anything else?"

    "No. I'll check in with you in another half hour. Let me know if you run into any difficulty."

    "Got it. Rocket out."

    John turns a page. He clearly still has a way to go, but if he isn't shouting anything yet I'm going to assume that there isn't an immediate need to panic. Since there's nothing I can really add to his investigation, I turn away and walk over to where Artemis is talking to Chief Clayborne. She notices me approaching and hurries in my direction to intercept me.

    "Yes? Something the matter?"

    She makes eye contact with me, then pointedly glances at John. "Did you ever… Check him out?"

    "Magicians have ways of confusing their trails. At least some people who'd been where he claimed to be remembered interacting with someone fitting his description. And he's helped me out."

    She gives a slight shrug with her right shoulder. "Right. So what's our next-?"

    The street explodes in white flame! I throw up a construct bubble around Artemis and myself as white hot fire pours from the heavens! Artemis crouches as the torrent of fire envelops us, anti-magic arrow already on string. I hear explosions as car petrol tanks cook off all around us, and the crash of glass as windows explode!

    "Artemis, moving to the police line. Ring, what's happening?"

    Artemis nods and we start jogging towards where I hope the police cordon is. Damn it, we haven't evacuated the prisoners yet!

    "Incendiary attack launched from above. No prior chemical alteration in local air. Fire otherwise performing as conventional fire. Supposition: fire is conjured."

    "Possible, but this would take stupid amounts of power."

    A pact with the Parliament of Flames is a possibility, but a magic generalist who could conjure this amount of fire on their own recognisance would have far better ways to kill a few people. It isn't pure elemental fire because that has anomalous behaviours my ring can spot. It isn't divine fire because it's the wrong colou-.

    We break through the curtain of flame, the burning wrecks of the police cars in front of us. I can see where the police and civilians have fallen back, convection making the area almost unbearably hot. Several are sporting burns, and a few have been laid down and are being tended to by medical personnel.

    "There!"

    Artemis points upwards and I follow her finger. Yes, there's someone up there, throwing flame down at us. Magnif-.

    There's what looks like an explosion from the figure's location, and the spray of fire ends. Immediately I turn, cold gun constructs forming and shooting the still-burning buildings on either side of the street.

    "Aquagirl, status!"

    Artemis switches to flame-retardant arrows and joins my cold guns. The street still radiates heat, the air too hot to breathe.

    "One severely burned. I'm administering a healing potion. I got a water shield up before anyone else could get hurt."

    "Good reactions. Fate?"

    A golden ankh appears in the air, John appearing in the air a moment later.

    "Fate is well, though I am afraid that the book was entirely destroyed."

    Darn it. Temperatures normalised, I cease fire with my cold guns.

    "What the hell just happened?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 9, 2019
  16. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 13)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    12:47 GMT -5


    "…similar incidents of arson." Kaldur's team has had worse luck than we have. "Cornwall Boy is attempting to determine the form of magic used."

    Left hand to my left ear, I look around the blasted street. Mr Quinn is now standing on what's left of the upper floor of the massage parlour, trying to gain a thorough reading on the magics still present in the building. Fire doesn't just burn things. When it comes to magical traces even normal fire has an unfortunate habit of 'purifying' things. The forensics team had already removed samples of Devil Jizz, but the shrine's gone. And I doubt very much that its destruction matters as far as Ms Bowen's pact is concerned, but without a trace on Triskele actually doing anything about it just got that much harder.

    "Doctor Fate confirmed my belief that we were dealing with conjured fire. If it's the same person attacking each site, getting a read on the magic will actually be quite hard. He'll-."

    "The point at which the conjuration occurred will be the only place where the magic can be felt."

    I nod. "The person I saw was about a mile up. Female, and… Either blonde, or they had a fiery corona around their head. Didn't get time to really focus on them."

    "Make that another place."

    "Robin, what have you found?"

    "Someone's burned down a circle forty feet wide in the Shenandoah National Park. I guess that explains why Tempest had trouble finding it. Hold on."

    "Orange Lantern, are you aware of any fire-using metahumans in this part of America?"

    "No. But I've sent a message to Vincent Edge at the Alliance in case they know something I don't. Flight and fire isn't a particularly rare combination. A competent magic user could probably manage both."

    "An Atlantean could not."

    "I'm not… Sure. How many Atlanteans experiment with fire magic on the surface? Atlanteans learn enough general theory that I'd be surprised if they couldn't make it work."

    "It is not that simple. The magic used to enable us to live beneath the waves makes it difficult for us to use spells associated with other classical elements."

    I frown. "Even for Purebloods?"

    "If anything, they are affected more strongly."

    "Guys, we.. may have another problem. Whoever burned the forest left a message. They.. burned an 'S' into the ground."

    "They're not doing the crazy Gotham clue-leaving thing, are they?"

    "No, an 'S' as in 'Superman'."

    "In a shield?"

    "No, on its own."

    "The Kryptonian character doesn't just mean 'Superman'. It can be a reference to House El more generally, or in isolation mean 'hope' or 'resurrection'."

    "None of those really fit a demon cult."

    "Resurrection might. Thana and I have been pretty clear about what happens to someone who dies without making afterlife provisions. There are demons who are prepared to release people from Hell, if the price is right."

    "No, that still doesn't make sense. Why would they use the Kryptonian letter, rather than runes or diagrams?" He pauses for a moment. "Can Kryptonians use magic?"

    "According to Har-Zod, if they can, no magic tradition survived to the modern era. But he didn't have good information on Earth. We have a far more thaumically active environment than Krypton did. But I don't think that any of the kryptonians on Earth know enough about magic to make the attempt."

    "Oh El, how many kryptonians-" I wince. "-are there on Earth?"

    "One more than most people know about, but I doubt that they were involved. They wouldn't be this sloppy. And I don't believe that they know anything about magic."

    "Could they know someone who does?"

    "During my one conversation with them, they were emphatic about not wanting contact with anyone who knew their identity. And as far as I could see, their only real desire was to live out their life in peace. Getting involved with a demon would be radically out of character."

    Richard goes quiet for a moment. "Do kryptonians go to Heaven?"

    "They probably can, but I doubt that kryptonians are there rather than in their own afterlife at the moment. If someone was trying to resurrect a kryptonian then they would probably have to go to the Rao system and try there."

    "I do not believe that there is any purpose in investigating a single symbol burned into the forest, especially when the symbol is so well known." I nod at Kaldur's conclusion. "Orange Lantern, continue to aid the police in investigating the women you have in custody. Robin, do you have any further leads to follow?"

    "Yeah, I'm going to see if I can track down the people who came out here. They might just have been here to get high, but if there are any kind of long term effects to being exposed to Hell Juice we need to find them. How's your investigation going?"

    "The fires have destroyed any physical evidence. We are now here in case the police require our assistance with combating DMN users."

    "And whoever's creating the fires. I'll contact you again if Fate finds anything. Orange Lantern out."

    I lower my hand, then fly over to Mr Quinn. Seeing me coming, he flies up toward where I saw our attacker.

    "I have found nothing but Aquagirl's magic. I can only hope that the fire caster left a trace I can find."

    "If we had to fight Triskele, what are our chances?"

    "She slew an archangel in single combat during the War in Heaven. But she has marinated in hellish magic since then. If Angelica is with us, I am confident we will prevail." He stops in the air. "If we can bring her onto the Earth."

    "And if we can't?"

    Mr Quinn looks down, and judging us far enough away from any listeners he abandons Nabu's speech pattern. "Then we'll have to go back into Hell and talk someone into telling us where she is. Or wait until her deal runs out." He raises his hands. "Now. Let's see if I can talk the light into showing me what that woman who tried setting us on fire looked like."

    Golden lights twinkle around his hands, then coalesce in the air in front of him in the vague shape of a woman. He points his hands at it and the image comes more into focus. Shoulder length hair, slim arms and legs, generous bust with relatively narrow hips. More prominent cheekbones than Kara. Midriff-baring t-shift, short skirt, face…

    "Ring, search databases for a facial match."

    "No close match found."

    Drat. "Is that a cape?"

    "Yeah."

    "Demon hunting vigilante?" He shrugs. "Can you add colour?"

    "I'll try."

    He rotates his hands, and… Blotches of colour appear over the still sharp image. I.. think she was wearing a female superman costume. The t-shirt is blue and the red blob is in the right place for an 'S'. The skirt is red, as are the boots which Kara wouldn't be caught dead in. Still isn't Kara herself. Was someone.. trying to pretend that Kara was going on a killing spree? That would be stupid if they were. Even Lex Luthor hasn't tried something like that in years. People aren't quite stupid enough to believe that a costumed hero is going to suddenly turn on people for no reason, not when most costumes aren't hard to copy.

    Mr Quinn lowers his hands and the image fades. "Good enough?"

    "I'll let the police know. Something.. very strange is going on here."
     
    Last edited: Jun 10, 2019
  17. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 14)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    13:02 GMT -5


    Frederick Danvers lowers his telephone, shaking his head. "She's not picking up."

    I nod. I assumed that something was up when I tried to scan for her and found nothing. "When was the last time you spoke to her?"

    He hesitates. "Ah… Three.. weeks ago?" He nods. "Yeah, three weeks ago."

    With the number of people we've taken into custody far outstripping what the local police station could hold, Tula and Mr Quinn have taken our suspects to the Fort Pickett National Guard base. Artemis and Raquel are out trying to find any of Linda Danvers's friends who might have dodged the police raid while I try to work out what our next substantive step should be.

    "Do you have a regular contact schedule..?"

    "We… Don't. My daughter and I don't see eye to eye on a lot of things." His face tightens. "And it looks like I was right about her friends."

    "Now now, Officer Danvers. Don't count your chickens until they're convicted. Mister 'Buzz' might simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time."

    "I doubt that. I told-."

    "Orange Lantern?"

    I raise my left hand to my ear. "Chief Clayborne. What news?"

    "Someone just phoned in to report a 'burning figure' entering the house where we picked up the drug users. I've got a car on the way, but I don't want to send them in if it's the woman who set fire-."

    "No, no. Sensible. I'll get over there now."

    "You need backup?"

    Mr Quinn isn't Nabu, so I don't want to call Tula away because he might well need the help. Raquel isn't fire-proof, Artemis is-. Her skin, anyway. But if they trip over a jizzer while making their rounds I'd rather have them together.

    "No, I'll handle this on my own. I'll call you back if I find out anything useful."

    "Alright, if you're sure. Good luck."

    I lower my hand and nod to Officer Danvers. "Thank you for your help. I'll let you know when I find out where Miss Danvers is."

    He.. doesn't really react, then the universe skips as I transition to the house indicated. Police tape flaps across the broken-down door, but otherwise the place appears to be in a reasonable state of repair. Basic scan shows nothing untoward, infrared shows-. That the place should be on fire. But I'm not seeing any flames

    I stride up the short path and bang my right fist on the wall. "Hello!"

    "Fuck off!"

    Voice matches Miss Danvers.

    "I'm afraid-" I take a step inside. Opens directly into the lounge, which is an interesting design choice. Can't immediately see her. "-that it's sort of my job-" A few more steps inside. Heat is coming from upstairs. "-to not fuck off in situations like this."

    "Well make a fucking exception!"

    Empathic vision… Shows a mess. Major recent psychological trauma probably. I stand at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. She's in the master bedroom.

    "Miss Danvers-."

    "What is your fucking-" Stomping feet as she storms out, thrusting the door open and emerging, glaring, onto the landing. "-problem!"

    She spots me, and her face freezes. She's wearing a.. shapeless pullover on top of what is clearly a feminised Superman costume.

    "Fuck."

    "Miss Danvers, I understand that you're in a spot of bother. I'd like to help."

    "You don't know anything. This all happened because of you!"

    "What all happened?"

    "Everything! I was happy, I had power, then you happen and suddenly everyone's looking for demon magic!"

    "Stopping demon magic is usually a good-."

    "YeeeaghHHH!"

    She throws her head back, eyes squeezed shut as a wave of flame passes over her! Her hair -which was short and brown- becomes long and blonde and her chest grows-.

    I intensify my environmental shield as the fire caster appears in Linda Danvers' place. She… Isn't looking at me, but is taking the time to get her breath back.

    "Vile and maleficent sinner, what den of vice have you brought me to now?"

    "That's a slightly-" Her head jerks up in astonishment. "-grandiose way of describing it-."

    "You."

    Genuine loathing that time. Not sure why, but it's coming through loud and clear. Disassociate identity combined with physical change isn't unknown in metahumans, but that was a little strange.

    "I don't believe that we've met, Miss..?"

    "I am Noriel."

    "I see. From the costume I assumed that you were going to go with Supergirl."

    "No, I am Noriel."

    We look at each other for a moment.

    "Your voice doesn't sound right and I'm not seeing any wings. Plus you tried to set fire to some police officers and I don't think that an agent of the Silver City would do that."

    "I must fight every moment to keep this demon's harlot from directing me. And as for my wings, I lost them when you cut me with your accursed knife!"

    "When am I supposed to have done this?"

    "When you fled from Karrien Excalibris!"

    Did-? "Oh yes, I did hit one of you, didn't I? You should know that Karrien was working with Neron and has been cast down for his transgression. And I'm in the clear as far as the remaining Angel Kings are concerned."

    "Why should I believe a single word that flows from your excrement-flecked lips, heretic?"

    "Why would I bother lying to you? Excalibris beat me using theurgy. You're here because being stabbed by the Sword of the Fallen removed your arcane abilities. You aren't a threat to me, but it looks like you have useful information and I'd like to trade that for my help."

    She glares at me slightly less aggressively.

    "I mean, how did you even survive?"

    "I did not."

    Oh. Yeah, that would make sense.
     
    Last edited: Jun 11, 2019
  18. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 15)
    Mr Zoat

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    "Where did you wake up? Was it Skyros? Because if so-."

    "No. I awoke in a forest, not far from here. For a time I wandered alone, my connection to Creation's fires taken from me."

    "If you don't want your weapons taken from you, don't try murdering people with them."

    She raises her hands, fires blooming to life around each of them. "My theurgy may be gone, but as one who was part of the choir which sang the universe into being-"

    "I'm more of a-"

    "-I am well-familiar with-"

    "-giant hand man-"

    "-mortal magics, and-"

    "-myself."

    "-cease your heretical prattlings!"

    "No! I don't work for you, I don't work for the Silver City and after you set fire to a street I am under no obligation to treat you as anything other than a criminal." I make a gesture of appeal with both hands. "What was that in aid of?"

    "I could see the taint of the demonic upon them."

    "This is exactly how Asmodel was able to hoodwink so many angels into joining his crusade of self-aggrandisement! It's all about appearances and not at all about content or philosophy with you people! They were under arrest! We are going to break the pact with Triskele and rehabilitate them! What the Hell have we come to when a pagan like me is more interested in redemption than an angel?"

    The flames around her hands go out, her expression vacant. "I… No. No." Her eyes harden. "You did this to me-."

    "I didn't do this to you. If you want to get back to the Silver City, all you have to do is repent in full and find a non-suicidal way to die. Once you're back, I'm sure the remaining Kings will find some way to fix you-."

    "Guh!"

    The fires go out and Noriel staggers. "No, no-."

    Her hair shrinks, turning brown as her face restructures itself back into that of Ms Danvers. Who jerks, yanking her hands away from where Noriel was holding them. "Bitch! I'm not fireproof!"

    "Ms Danvers-."

    "Oh, you couldn't even fry the one person we both want dead!"

    "Ms Danvers, I feel that you may have gotten somewhat over your head. And when that happens, the intelligent thing to do is admit to it at the earliest opportunity. Most people don't do that for reasons of ego, but I'm hoping that at this point you're willing to recognise that I'm a problem that neither you nor your… Housemate? Are equipped to deal with. And in a situation like this-."

    She draws a small knife from.. somewhere with her right hand, and slices a cut across her left palm. "By blood freely offered-."

    My construct manacles pin her arms to the wall behind her, then to the construct I place over the wall when I realise that it isn't rated for any significant strain. A filament evaporates when it touches the knife blade but a small electric shock is enough to make her drop it to the floor. Another pair of manacles pins her ankles while I float up the stairs towards her, a look of what I hope is frustrated benevolence on my face.

    "Thank you for the evidence and probable cause, but that really wasn't very sensible. While an angel with-."

    "Fuckingshitsuckergraaaaagh-!"

    I muzzle her.

    "With its full theurgical power intact is a threat to me, one using a human body and with only the earthly magic it can channel through an untrained body isn't. She couldn't burn me if she wanted to, and I've come to realise that -despite my antipathy towards them- many angels are in fact reasonable, rational beings whose ends do not necessarily match my own."

    She is not happy about that muzzle. I take a look inside her. Oh, woe is me, my parents don't understand me, everything is stupid, Buzz shows me-.

    Ah. Well, at least I know what he looks like now. But I don't think I'm going to get anything useful from Ms Danvers.

    Hm. Let's see. What was the inscription John Dee used for this sort of thing..?

    Lines and symbols appear on the surface of my constructs, Enochian characters which are supposed to make getting in contact with angels easier. For some reason summoners are much less inclined to call up angels than they are demons, despite the fact that the latter will always try to screw you on the deal. I mean, yes, summoned angels nuked the Resurrection Crusade, but only after they'd had contact with them for a prolonged period of time and after they mucked up a major job. Given how popular monotheism is, it's a little odd that more people don't try it.

    Maybe it's an education thing?

    Ms Danvers stiffens for a moment, then her… Their hair turns blonde again. Noriel looks around, her eyes focusing for a moment on the symbols on my constructs, then goes back to glaring at me. Since she appears to be the more reasonable half of this duo I remove the muzzle.

    "That's curious."

    "This is your fault."

    "No, I killed you in self-defence. It's either Asmodel's fault for giving you an illegitimate order, yours for following it, or…" I shake my head. "I don't even know. This isn't what happened when the First died."

    "Linda Danvers' lover, the demon 'Buzz', found me while I wandered lost and bereft. He performed a ritual, and when next I was aware I was like this."

    "The police and my team are looking for Mister Buzz. Might I assume that you're interested in reversing this?"

    "Yes."

    "Do you want to go back to the Silver City?"

    She regards me curiously for a moment. "Yes."

    "Do you believe that I want rid of you?"

    "Of course you do."

    "Then start making yourself useful. How do I keep you dominant?"

    "I don't know." She looks at the Enochian characters. "What is this..? 'Welcome'?"

    "Atlanteans don't study theurgy. Does Ms Danvers have any particular magical power?"

    "She can.. confuse me. Confound my mind, steer me… To an extent. But in her own right she is a minor ritualist."

    "Right." I take a set of binding chains out of subspace. "I'm going to put these on you, then you're going to come with me to talk to the police. We're going to find Buzz, and then we're going to separate you, and then Ms Danvers can join her fellow cultists in prison."

    I smile.

    "And then you can go to prison for attempted murder. Take it as part of your redemption."
     
    Last edited: Jun 12, 2019
  19. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 16)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
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    "I am not answerable to human law. Unhand me!"

    Officer Danvers stares for a moment at the blonde woman in the female Superman costume and then turns his head towards me. "You wanna explain to me what this is?"

    "Your daughter's room mate."

    He frowns, then shakes his head. "She didn't say anything about having a room mate."

    "Sorry, I'm being poetic. They're literally sharing a body. Or.. something similar to that. Not entirely sure why or how, reversing it is one of the things we're going to be working on."

    He blinks. "What?"

    "She says that she's Noriel, the Fire of God. A presently-disempowered angel."

    "Then why is she-?"

    "Assuming that she's not just crazy, because on New Year's Day she tried to kill me. And earlier today she tried to kill a group of suspects, two of my colleagues, four or five of yours and me again. I rather hoped that the whole 'sky is on fire' thing had rather got people out of the 'angels equals good' mindset, but if it hasn't then I'm just going to have to ask you to do your job and take this suspect to the police station."

    "If my daughter's in there-."

    "She's uncooperative and loyal to the leader of the group probably producing the Devil Jizz, who is her boyfriend. We can't control the shift between the two individuals stuck in there, so I'd much rather leave it set to the one who is being helpful. Once Buzz is in custody, then, if we can't immediately undo the spell, we can sort out a timeshare."

    He hesitates then nods, holding the rear door of his car open. "Ma'am?"

    She shoots me a venomous look, but enters the car of her own free will. Officer Danvers closes the door behind her before getting into the driver's seat and pulling away.

    I raise my left hand to my ear, taking a look at the knife Ms Danvers dropped. My rune stone shows that it's definitely enchanted, though I don't know what it's supposed to do beyond 'something demony'. "Orange Lantern to team. Linda Danvers is in custody. She appears to have been merged with another individual and they're alternating control of their shared body."

    "You sure she's not just crazy, Oh El?" Richard sounds more amused than the situation really warrants. "Because that sounds a lot more likely."

    "The transition is accompanied by a physical transformation."

    "Rose Canton changed physically when she switched over to Thorn."

    And produced observable magic effects which her alter ego couldn't. Was she just feeding me a line about being that angel? Was anyone actually watching that fight?

    "True, and it's possible, but the individual in question claimed to be the one angel I stabbed with the Sword of the Fallen, and not a lot of people know about that. If exactly what's going on in her head really matters, we can investigate further. In any case, Noriel -that's the name the other individual gave for herself- informed me that Buzz performed the ritual which bound the two of them together. Tempest? Cornwall? Is that something we can track?"

    "Ah… We could track her back to the ritual site. I do not know if I could track the individual who performed the ritual."

    "Huh. I probably could. Fire magic's not that hard to track. I've actually got more experience with it than anyone else on the team."

    "Aqualad, if you wouldn't mind detaching Cornwall Boy? We can make a start on hunting down Buzz."

    "I agree. We have not yet encountered enough resistance to justify our presence."

    "I'm not complaining." Roy sounds rather pleased with himself for some reason. "The fewer fights break out, the less collateral damage, right?"

    "Or they could all be getting ready to ambush us." Beryl sounds just as cheerful, and I find myself smiling at her attitude. "We've only got evidence of one person using Devil Jizz to pick a fight. According to the police interviews, all the rest of them were just getting high off it."

    I rise up into the air, looking around with empathic vision to find Robert. As I sight him I note that he's a lot happier with his place in life than he was when we first met. He really likes being on a superhero team.

    "Drug addicts are not known for being honest." Leonid sounds less amused. "Is not the demon threat significant enough that we are allowed to use truth compulsion magic upon them?"

    "Demons as a whole, yes. But we haven't actually seen any demons yet. Just people using magic. There are dozens of augmentation drugs that dwarf could have taken to murder that man. Heck, Rag Doll could have done it with a knife. It's not really special."

    I hear Wallace exhale. "I'd vote for someone who wanted to make truth magic part of police interviews. Y'know, if I wasn't going to miss the election by five days."

    "Cornwall Boy, I have your location." I put one zeta tube construct down next to him and another in the burned street. "Transport to a site where Noriel used her magic available."

    "Going through it now."

    Transit in progress.

    "Huh, yeah. Shouldn't be too hard to follow this."

    I dismiss the zeta tube constructs, then transition myself to his location. "Cornwall and I will track Buzz down. I'll let you know when we find him. Orange Lantern out."

    Robert nods at me, eldritch sort-of-fire flowing from his hands. Then he rises into the air, supported only by his conjured winds as he heads to where Noriel bombarded us from. "Up here, right?"

    "Quite correct."

    "Appreciate you giving me the chance to do this, but… How come you didn't get Doctor Fate on it instead?"

    "Our mission is to prevent the distribution of Devil Jizz. Not to fight Triskele."

    "But we could, right?"

    "No idea. I can tell you her history and some of her better recorded feats, but exactly what her limits are? Pass. Don’t know. I don't think any fight is hopeless- "

    He raises his hands over his head and slowly turns to take in our surroundings.

    "-but it isn't a fight we're really geared up for, so I'd rather leave it for Doctor Fate and Angelica."

    Or Mammon. I didn't think for a moment that he'd cut off the flow of Devil Jizz, as it's the thing keeping Rosacarnis on-side. But I did think that he'd prevent visible spill over. If Triskele has been bypassing his supply chain, he might be able to justify coming down hard on her. I imagine that Rosacarnis would appreciate getting rulership over the Succubae once she's gone. Or… Really, I don't have.. much of a problem with demon pacts as long as the people signing up know what they're getting into. Triskele doesn't even follow the letter of her pacts, but… If the people using Succubae Jizz got consent from their clients in advance and knew what they were giving their demonic sponsors, that's… Really no worse than most business contracts.

    "Okay, those… Those are places we already checked with Aqualad. Did Noriel say anything about where this happened?"

    "In a forest. Could be at the 'S'' marked site Robin found, but-."

    "Yeah, that's her magic. But there's another place." He activates the holomap on his arm computer and points. "Right.. there."

    "Right then." Ring scan shows nothing much at the site. "Transition in two, one."
     
    Last edited: Feb 22, 2022
  20. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 17)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
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    Robert floats through what looks like a campfire site, occasionally closing his eyes to better feel whatever it is that he's feeling.

    "People were killed here."

    "Can you tell how many?"

    He shakes his head. "More than one, less than a hundred. The fire's covering everything up."

    I frown. The ground is clearly blackened where the fire was lit, but I can't see any other signs of burning. "Where..?"

    He lands, laying his hands on the ground. "Contained by magic, probably. I'd guess they cancelled the containment spell then left the fire burning for a bit to cover it up."

    "Does your training include necromancy?"

    "Nah." He shakes his head. "Dad's not keen. Otherworld's one thing, but messing around with Heaven or Hell is really s-something you have to think about very carefully."

    I nod, smiling. "Very carefully."

    I've got traces of genetic material from the site, but… Nothing I'd want to rely on in court. Or even in the less formal environment in which superhero investigations take place. The trees provide some cover from the winds, but what I'm picking up could have come from anywhere.

    "So I wouldn't want to try calling anyone up."

    "That's fine." There might not have been a jump in the murder rates, but that still gives a demon cult some leeway given that Virginia has over three hundred murders annually. "Can you track Buzz's magic with this?"

    He stands, shaking his head. "Sorry, mate."

    I walk over to him, pulling the knife out of my pouch and offering it to him. "Would this help?"

    "Maybe?" He takes it, holding it by the guard with his left hand and moving his right over its surface. "At least one person was killed with this. And-." His eyes come fully open. "Yeah. Got someone. Feels… Like demon magic. And… If this was the murder weapon…"

    He kneels, stabbing the knife into the ground and then standing and taking a step back.

    "I should be able to get a direction and… Roughly the distance."

    "How 'should' is 'should'?"

    "Blood and death are powerful ritual components. If he had a shield up strong enough to block it, Doctor Fate would have felt that."

    I nod, then frown. "You sure that's not necromancy?"

    "I guess it… Kind of is? But no one means this when they say 'necromancy'."

    I nod, then raise my left hand to my ear. "Orange Lantern to Aqualad. We think we can trace Buzz. Should we proceed?"

    "We have.. located a group of cultists. They are armed, though if they possess any-"

    I hear automatic weapon fire.

    "-Devil Jizz they have not used it."

    "Do you want me to help?"

    "This is well within our abilities. Find the leader and defeat him before he can carry out any further evil acts."

    "Rightoh. I'll let you know once he's in custody. Orange Lantern out." I lower my hand. "I'll transition us to his approximate location. We'll locate him together and then I'll fly us to him. Stay back and counter his magic as best you can while I take him down."

    "Um-. I haven't really.. practised countering demon magic. I can disrupt simple stuff whatever he does, but I'm not… Y'know, Doctor Fate."

    "That's perfectly fine. I'm not expecting you to be." I smile. "Not for a few years, anyway."

    "Right." He nods, then returns his attention to the knife. "Just got to.. redirect-."

    Something flows through the clearing, causing my environmental shield to flicker. Robert shakes for a moment and then gestures north north east.

    "That way. About… Ah… Fifty miles? On a road, big road. In a lorry."

    Ring, scan.

    I step towards Robert as he snatches up the knife, an image of the area appearing in my mind. Interstate 81 is roughly in the right area. No.. obvious gaps in the traffic where something is defying my scans.

    "Transition in one."

    We appear a mile up, looking down at the traffic. Compare visual image to scan…

    Got you.

    I transition us again, appearing in front of an articulated lorry and flying backwards to keep pace with it. The driver's eyes are slightly vacant, while-. While my eyes fail to see whoever is in the passenger seat beside him.

    Robert swipes his right hand across, and a sudden gust of eldritch wind causes whatever spell Buzz was using to flicker and fail. The driver jerks, blinking as the mental influence spell fails and momentarily losing control-.

    I stick a construct around the lorry and rise into the air, stopping once we're about a mile up.

    "Mister Buzz, you are under arrest."

    The driver frowns, looks right and visibly starts. "Who the fuck are you? What the fuck is going on?"

    Buzz's eyes flick from Robert and then back to me. "Easy does it, lads. No need for-."

    The front cab of the lorry disintegrates, segments floating in the air as I pull it apart. A large reptilian hand construct grabs Buzz and pulls him free, his legs dangling. The parts of the lorry then flow back together, then I lower it into a lay-by to allow the driver to recover.

    "I have corpses, Mister Buzz. A minor brothel madam who somehow found herself in possession of a book instructing the reader in the use of demonic magic. I have a knife and a woman who appears to have been merged with a disempowered angel-."

    "Oh yeah." He grins unpleasantly. "Nice work with that, by the way. Howagh!"

    I remove the mage slayer round from his forehead and then attach the binding chains to his arms and legs.

    "So this is what you actually look like? Curious."

    "I've-." He tries to pull against the chains and gets nowhere. "I've always looked like this."

    "Originally human? Well, you wouldn't be the only one."

    He stares me in the eyes. "Yeah. Bet even you were Human once upon a time."

    I chuckle, then shake my head. "Mister Buzz, I am not an impressionable teenager. If you wish to play mind games with me you will have to up your game. Now, do you intend to tell me what you've been up to in Virginia, or-" I hold my left hand out towards him, palm first. "-do I have to encourage you?"

    "You allowed to do that?"

    "Ongoing demonic threat. Any and all means to prevent loss of life. I'd try and turn it off afterwards, but? No promises."

    "Fine-. Fine. This whole thing's been a huge waste of time anyway. I should have cut 'n run when you got away from the fuckin' Host."

    "The benefits of hindsight. Now, tell me about the Devil Jizz."

    "Oh, that had nothing to do with m-."

    I roll my eyes.

    "Brand."
     
    Last edited: Jul 12, 2019
  21. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 18)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    13:20 GMT -5


    "Now hang-!"

    My rings flare, and the orange light burns through whatever arcane defences he had active so quickly that I barely feel the resistance. I'm not sure whether that's due to his defences being weak, his nature being so filled with avarice that he couldn't resist the orange light effectively or… My own ability. Orange light radiates from his forehead, then dims to the weakly glowing brand.

    His eyes roll upwards as he tries to see what I've just done, then he tries to raise his hands in order to feel it. But they're still trapped.

    "Orange Lantern?" I glance back at Robert, and he points downwards. "People are staring."

    I nod. "Thank you for pointing that out. This way."

    I fly myself and my captive west and upwards, bringing us out of easy visual distance of the road. The second to last thing I want to do is create a massive crash.

    Buzz gives up trying to see his own forehead. "What is this?"

    "Essentially, it makes it trivially easy for me to alter your desires. If I want to, I can totally reshape your personality."

    "Fuck me, you sure you're a superhero?"

    "Hero, villain, I'm the man with the ring. Now." I lean in a little closer. Though just for effect; I'm not stupid enough to get close enough for him to do anything. "You want to be open and honest with me-"

    He blinks. "Was that supposed to be a magic word or something? Because as a demon coming up to the end of his second millennium I gotta say, you need more pizzazz. Half of magic is-."

    "-regarding your recent criminal activity here in Virginia."

    "That's not exactly a short list, mate."

    "The Devil Jizz."

    He shakes his head. "Never touched the stuff. I was on Earth when my old boss got done in by the First-."

    "Your old boss being?"

    "Beelzebub. Miserable bastard that he was. Here, you didn't have anything to do with that, did you? No one I asked could give me the full story."

    "The First did.. something to him in retaliation for Satanus giving Sabbac the Sword of the Fallen. Satanus took advantage of his weakness to steal his power in a more permanent way. What did he have on you?"

    "He offered to help me assassinate Emperor Caligula and ensure my wife's safety in exchange for eternal servitude. Then that thing in Fawcett happened and the bond just vanished."

    "You couldn't disobey him in the intervening period?"

    "Basically, no." He tries to shrug. "I could creatively interpret, and he wasn't giving me orders every day, but when it came right down to it… He was the boss."

    And just like that, we can't convict him for anything before Fawcett. Mind control, which is a near-absolute defence even if the subject initially volunteered.

    "The Devil Jizz."

    "Answer hasn't changed, mate. I've been out of the loop since Beelzebub snuffed it. Don't even know how it's made. I mean, I can guess roughly what's in it, but I'm not part of the pipeline or nothin'."

    "Your cult."

    "Hah! Wouldn't call them a cult. Bunch of bravos and psychos. Not exactly hard to talk them into things."

    "What were you doing with them?"

    "Keeping me hand in. Passing time. Might a' done something with Linda… Then an angel dropped in me lap and I had to go for it. Didn’t really work out like I intended."

    "Why did you think that binding the two of them together would work out? A disempowered angel and a cultist?"

    "What? No, I didn't bind them together. How the hell would that work? No, I just killed Noriel and used her death to transfer her knowledge into Linda. I figured her knowledge of magic and that would be useful. Turn Lindy into a real asset." He exhales. "Turns out, million year old angel has a slightly stronger personality than a teenager could handle. Used another spell t' try an' keep them apart, but now that you've countered that they're probably really mixed up right now."

    Oh poop.

    "So what happened to Noriel?"

    "Body got burned up by the spell. Soul's probably gone back to the Silver City… Might have regained her memories, might not have done." He grins. "And I say 'probably', 'cause if she was down here, she's still be in the firing line for all that shit Excalibris got up to."

    "If Linda only got Noriel's memories, why was she physically changing shape?"

    "Dunno, really. Linda knew a little magic, Noriel knew a lot. Probably an instinctive thing. Wonder if they'll call themselves 'Lindel' or 'Nindel'..? No, 'Loriel', perfect." I narrow my eyes. "Like the shampoo."

    "What other crimes have you personally committed recently?"

    "Drugs, obviously. Resisting arrest. Maleficium."

    "Grooming?"

    "Doesn't bother me, but I think she was over sixteen when we started fucking. I mean, I'm two thousand years old, so-."

    "The age of consent in Virginia is eighteen."

    "Oh. Then yes. Kidnapping… Though the guy was a murderer. His mistress might not have been in on it."

    "Did you murder them?"

    "Nah. Got Linda to do it. Her parents took her to this one priest, see? Thought a growing girl might need moral guidance in this sinful age." He chuckles. "Only he was having an affair. Murdered his wife, played it for sympathy… Wasn't even that hard to prove it to Linda. Which helped out my whole 'morality is for the stupid' angle. Not exactly a tidy murder, but we've all got to start somewhere."

    And if he's telling the truth about overwriting her brain then we can't charge her either. I suppose that we can at least locate the bodies and close the investigation.

    "You can provide me with more details later, but-"

    "Happy to!"

    "-now I want to know where the Devil Jizz came from. You say you didn't supply it, but you must have been aware of it."

    "Of course I was. See, the reason I wanted to kill Caligula was 'cause he raped me wife. Only I couldn't come at him openly without getting killed meself. Made the deal with Big B, she was safe… But she decided that 'cause I couldn't protect her it was my fault, an' she stabbed me to death. Beelzebub sorted me out, said I'd have the chance to win her over…"

    "Because she'd go to Hell for murder. Not faithful to the gods of Rome, then?"

    "Might have been Beelzebub's doing. Whatever: with him out of the picture I figured I could summon her up meself. Only her opinion on me hasn't gotten any better, has it?"

    "Where is she now?"

    "I dunno. That brothel of hers, maybe? She somehow wrangled being turned into a succubus-."

    Oh dear.

    "Orange Lantern to Doctor Fate, we have a problem."



    "Doctor Fate?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 15, 2019
  22. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 19)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    13:25 GMT -5


    "Orange Lantern to Aquagirl."



    Nothing. Damn it. Ring, show me.

    "Buzz, are you talking about Carol Bowen?"

    "Yeah, that's it. No idea why she picked it. Valeria's a lovely name."

    The image appears in my mind, Fort Pickett… More or less as it should be. I don't know exactly what the arrangements the camp commandant made for our occupation were, but nothing.. particularly strikes me as strange about the soldiers' placement. And we didn't study the metaphysiques of her staff in any detail because Triskele was the greater threat and preparing for her required our magician's full attention. They could be disguised succubae using Devil Jizz as a disguise, humans looking for demonhood…

    "Orange Lantern to team. We've captured and interrogated Buzz. He's admitted several crimes but says that the Devil Jizz was being produced by Carol Bowen, who he claims is a succubus. I am unable to contact Doctor Fate or Aquagirl. Aqualad, orders?"

    "What is the status of Fort Pickett?"

    "Doesn't look like anything is out of the ordinary. However, several demons have demonstrated ways to defy my scans."

    "Time is of the essence. Take Cornwall Boy and perform reconnaissance. Inform us when you know more."

    "Confirmed."

    I fly rapidly down, depositing Buzz as I reach ground level.

    "Cheers, mate. I'll be-."

    "You want to stay right here."

    "-staying right here." He looks around. "Never really took the time to smell the roses."

    I fly back up to Robert.

    "Ready?"

    He nods, and the sky flickers as we transition to fifty metres from the front entrance of the base. While I could have brought us to the middle, defensive wards work best with established boundaries and there are all sorts of things a two thousand year old succubus could have set up. Still not seeing anything odd.

    "Cornwall? Are you getting anything?"

    He drops to the ground, looking towards the entrance gate. "Someone's using magic over there, and some of it feels like demon." He sounds a little despondent. "I can't… Really…"

    Because he's not a thaumaturgist, and his great grandfather has mostly been teaching him how to use his abilities rather than teaching him magic theory. And I'm asking him for something a pure magician could do easily but which he can't.

    "Fine. Let's-."

    Rounds patter off my environmental shield and Robert blurs away from me as a volley pings off the road where he was standing a second before! The soldiers at the gateway are kneeling and firing at us. Good accuracy, but they're only using mundane automatic rifles.

    "Soldiers attacking us."

    I generate construct armour and fly at them, Robert following me a heartbeat later. The soldiers recognise that their shots are doing nothing to me and switch to him, but all that happens as their rounds hit home is that a thin film of metal begins to spread across his chest. Ward Against Metal is a remarkably useful spell in the modern era.

    One bright spark has the idea of throwing a grenade our way, so I catch it and defuse it before it can risk hurting them. Honestly, that suggests to me that whatever enchantment is directing them has done a number on their combat skills. In an open environment the fragments the grenade throws out strike with less force than a volley from a rifle. I stop just before them, construct filaments flashing out and stunning them, taking hold of them as they fall and depositing them safely on the ground.

    "Cornwall, can you confirm that they're under demonic influence?"

    More shots strike my construct armour, and I raise a construct barrier to prevent deflections and near-misses hitting the soldiers on the ground.

    Robert kneels and puts his hands on a soldier's head. "Yes, definitely demon."

    "Orange Lantern to Angelica. Demonic incursion in progress in Virginia. Are you anywhere near a zeta tube?"

    "Yes, I'm on the Watchtower. What sort-?"

    "Two thousand year old ex-human succubus, her assistants and numerous mind controlled soldiers. Creating zeta tube construct now."

    "Recognised, Angelica, Two Seven."

    She steps out, wings flared and white/golden light radiating from her wings. "Be cleansed."

    The incoming fire falls off immediately, soldiers who had been sprinting towards us stumbling and blinking in confusion. Right, good. Ring, where is-?

    There's a yellow-gold flare of light from the barracks area, and a large purple-skinned demon is sent flying through the wall of one of the housing structures! Mister Quinn in full Doctor Fate mode follows up, a rain of ankhs flying from a golden disk floating just in front of his right hand biting into its skin! I generate railgun constructs and load mageslayers while Robert sprints towards the demon as it struggles to regain its feet. I'd guess that we're looking at Valeria, but we can confirm that once she's down.

    Mister Quinn spreads his arms wide, causing two golden disks to appear above the demoness. She gets her feet under her, just in time for a golden chain to drop down from each disk and wrap themselves around her arms and upper torso.

    "In the name of Order, I bind you!"

    Mister Quinn's got that. What can I do? Ring, locate the other people being held here.

    In a building-. Ah. I'm going to assume that she was siphoning power from them. Sex under the influence of demon magic… Neither they nor their partners appear in any physical danger, so I can leave that to a professional trauma counsellor. Where was the power going? Don't know. Ring, locate demonic sigils-.

    I fly at speed to the canteen, pulling the wall out of the way to give me space while I examine the drawing on the floor. Tula unsteadily walks towards it, sigils of water forming as she tries to do.. something.

    "Aquagirl?"

    "She already left. I'm… Trying to-." She sags, shaking her head. "No. She's gone."

    I fly closer. "Are you injured? Did she entrance you?"

    She nods. "It was.. subtle. I thought they were just being.. helpful. Friendly. Then she was all I could think about."

    I look behind me, to where the demoness… No, the human woman who was presumably enhanced by Devil Jizz, slumps in Mister Quinn's chains. The receptionist.

    "Where did she go?"

    "Back.. to Hell, I think. She had me draw.. this while she was working on the others. Doctor Fate-."

    "He's physically fine."

    I sigh in frustration. I think we can forget about prosecuting anyone, except some of Buzz's cultists. Any competent defence lawyer would point out that if Valeria could control Doctor Fate then none of her other employees stood a chance. And we couldn't use truth compulsion -even if it was admissible- because they probably don't know how much control of themselves they had.

    "Angelica is on-site. Have her check you over for any lingering magic, then head back to the Mountain." She nods. "I've got to go and check up on Ms Danvers."
     
    Last edited: Jun 16, 2019
  23. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 20)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    13:43 GMT -5


    "So…"

    Linda/Noriel sits across from me in the interview room. She's not completely unresponsive, but she isn't looking at me. Her hair is currently blonde, but her facial structure isn't exactly that of either Linda or Noriel.

    "We caught Buzz, and he will be facing charges of some kind. Valeria got away, but we've destroyed or acquired all of her assets in Virginia. All the members of Buzz's cult whom we've identified are now in custody."

    "What do you want me to say?"

    "I don't know." I sit back. "Given what Buzz has done to your mind, we can't charge you with anything. How about..? We start with a name."

    "I am not Noriel."

    "True."

    "I remember flying through the towers of the Silver City. I remember hearing all of Creation come into being as a harmonious crescendo. I remember the very first exothermic reaction. I remember the sacred joy of it all, and now I feel… Nothing."

    "I'm-."

    No. No. Now is not the time to question the validity of the beliefs of the angels. She's having a hard enough time of it without me kicking metaphorical sand in her face.

    "And… What about Linda Danvers?"

    "She is.. why I feel nothing. Every.. time that I remember something, I remember it as filtered through her. Her contemptuous bile.. taints… Every thought and action."

    "Extra-tainted because she was a fairly hateful person, or just normal human not-being-an-angel levels of taint?"

    She looks up very slightly, her eyes meeting mine.

    "Do not make light of this."

    "I'm not making light of it. I know that -to an angel- the normal human way of thinking about things is… Repulsive. But all I know of Noriel is her participation in Asmodel's putsch and her attempt to kill me, so… Those memories? I'm sceptical of their value. I don't think her existence was anything like as good as you appear to be implying that you do. Frankly, I'd say that not being either Noriel or Linda is a positive thing."

    Her head comes up. "What would you know of it?"

    "I went to Hell disguised as a demon once. Satanus set a trap for me which infused me with demonic magic until I effectively became a demon. It altered the way I thought about a lot of stuff." I shrug. "Didn't bother me at the time, because that then was how I thought about things. Hasn't really bothered me since…" I hesitate. "Except some things I said to my girlfriend, which were true for demon-me but not for normal-me, and for which I promptly apologised." Hm. "Do you believe yourself to be Noriel?"

    "Factually, I am not."

    "People often believe things that they can't prove with evidence. I've got a pile of hate-mail concerning some of the patently untrue things people believe about angels. Some people honestly believe the world to be flat, that fossils were made by the First of the Fallen to lure people away from the truth of Genesis… I knew a girl who honestly believed that leaving food in a tin in the fridge would cause it to become poisonous." I shrug. "If you want to be mostly-Noriel, that's fine. Treat Linda's perspective as an exposure to human vice you couldn't have gotten any other way and work to overcome it just as your kind encourage humans to overcome their vices. If you want to be mostly-Linda but with an added awareness of the wonders that the universe contains, that good and honest people do exist, that's fine too. Or if you want to forget them both and live your own life… Well, I'd encourage that."

    "Neither Noriel nor Linda were good at handling doubt."

    "Most people aren't. I didn't used to be."

    "How did you learn?"

    "Ironically, communion with a spirit greater than my own. But given that you as you have been alive for less than an hour, it would be unreasonable to expect you to make any radical decisions about your fundamental nature quite this quickly."

    She turns her head, taking in the various parts of the room. "What is to happen next?"

    "We'd like you to give a full deposition on Linda's activities. I personally would quite like one on Noriel's activities as well, so I have something to send to the angel fanzealots when they next accuse me of lying about what happened in the Silver City, but we're in America so I have to tell you that you aren't obliged to bear witness against yourself."

    "It would not precisely be bearing witness against myself."

    "American law hasn't yet had to adapt to permanent mental overwrites. But if you don't mind?"

    "I have Noriel's perspective on her crimes. What would you have me tell you?"

    "What was with the Superman costume?"

    "I believe that at some point she intended to attempt to implicate Kara Zor-El in her crimes."

    "Why? I mean, for a start, Kara can't create flames. And she's never been to Virginia. And she actually doesn't like using her exotic abilities."

    "In reality, Linda knew nothing of her. In her head, she had already decided that she already knew everything that she needed to. Kara Zor-El was new to the Earth, but already had the interest of the entire world. She had the affection of the world's most powerful superhero-"

    I cough quietly. Though I suppose that Kara and I do have a friendly relationship.

    "-and a well paid job despite not having any Earth qualifications."

    "And she was hurting herself with a radioactive rock because she wants to deny that any of it is happening because everyone she knew and loved died when Krypton exploded."

    "As I said, Linda knew nothing of the real her. To her, it seemed entirely believable that someone in her position might give form to their vices out of the limelight. She also role-played as Kara during her lewd encounters with Buzz."

    Yes, I suppose that would be one of her kinks.

    "I can detail-."

    "I don't need to know exactly what she and Buzz got-."

    "No, not-. Not that. Their crimes. I am happy to put everything in writing… Though my memory is fallible."

    "Thank you." I take a pad of paper out of subspace, along with a pen. "But -aside from that- what do you want to do?"

    "Live a good life, die without committing suicide and… Not return to the Silver City, but go there."

    "You are-."

    I'd like to try to sell her on the other options she has as a human. Or point out that humans who go to the Silver City aren't supposed to stay there. But this isn't the time, and I doubt that my credibility with her is all that great.

    "I meant in the short term. Where do you want to live? What do you wish to do with regard to employment?"

    "I assume that I still have Linda's apartment. I still have her skills as a sculptor, though my inspiration comes from a less ghoulish source."

    "But you also have Noriel's understanding of fire magic. Don't you?"

    "Yes."

    "Because I know some people who would consider that highly valuable. And since I imagine that Noriel used theurgy for just about everything, you might.. like doing something that neither of them did for a while. While you settle into… You know, existing."

    "That is an.. interesting offer. Though I am a little suspicious. You have no fondness for either of my… Component parts."

    "Because… Without wishing to sound hackneyed, we're all more than a sum of our parts. And I barely know the sum of you at all. How about it?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 17, 2019
  24. Threadmarks: Angelic (part 21)
    Mr Zoat

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    28th January
    21:34 GMT -3


    "Beatriz, I think-"

    Beatriz's head snaps around, a thin film of fire immediately appearing over her hands.

    "-I've found a fix-"

    The men -yes, they're all men- around her either start at my sudden appearance or take a step away. Beatriz herself on the other hand has already scanned and recognised me and is lowering her flame-level.

    "-for your combustion dysfunction."

    She smiles for her conversation partners. "Would you gentlemen excuse me? Paul and I have superhero business to discuss."

    A few nods from slightly calmed guests as Beatriz takes a rather firm hold on my left arm and pulls me towards the balcony. She smiles and waves at several of the conversation clusters we pass before leaning into me companionably. I doubt that anyone else attending this… Post fashion show party thing, can see how gritted her teeth are.

    "Did you have to do this now?"

    "No, but you made it clear how interested in this you were, so I thought that you might appreciate being involved from the start."

    "On balance, yes, but this is what I do for a living."

    "Pleased as I am that the Brazilian fashion industry doesn't immediately reject women with a bit of muscle on their frames, I can't help but feel that you're wasting your talents."

    "I don't remember getting a call from the Justice League."

    "Not.. superheroing. Police work. Or the Brazilian fire service. You are fireproof, yes?"

    "This pays better -mostly- and gives me enough time off work that I can volunteer to work with the police and fire service as a superhero."

    I nod as we walk out of the main hall and out into the Brazilian night air. January after sundown and if it wasn't for my environmental shield I'd be sweating.

    "I saw your blog entries. How is your training going?"

    She checks the distance to the other people out here. "My control's a little better, but I'm still-. Only as powerful as I was before."

    "Why exactly.. do you want to be a superhero again? And if you could avoid the bullshit answer you put on your website, that would be splendid."

    "You know who Hugo Danner is?"

    I smile broadly. "Yes! I managed to get a copy of his research from Green Lantern -the one who was part of the-."

    "The All-Star Squadron. I didn't know they actually found that. You know how to make the formula?"

    I nod. "Yes. LexCorp hired his son, and the first batch of Guard Dogs of Dawn should be undergoing their training now."

    "Dogs?" She frowns, then nods. "I.. suppose that makes sense. They're easier to train than people." She lets go of my arm and walks over to the edge of the balcony. "Did you ever wonder what would have happened if the Children of Dawn had won?"

    "I'd probably be down a mentor or two. Depending on whether or not they pulled their punches fighting Green Lantern and Wonder Woman. Flash had already left the Squadron at that point, so the modern Flash would probably still exist. The-."

    "I meant to Brazil."

    "I can't honestly say that I've studied Brazilian history in any detail."

    "Our last Emperor, Dom Pedro the Second, was overthrown in a military coup. He abolished slavery, instituted parliamentary democracy, championed free speech and civil rights, and he was replaced first by corrupt oligarchs and then by a military-backed dictatorship. Then a handful of idiots, then twenty two years of fascist military rule."

    "What exactly was your grandfather's job?"

    She looks back at me, but she's actually not glaring this time. "He was the Head of Counter-Insurgency. He told the field units who to grab from the streets and torture to death. He had thousands of people murdered." She laughs humourlessly. "And of course the amnesty law gave him immunity from prosecution."

    "There was a lot of that going around. I still remember the attempt to extradite Pinochet from Britain."

    She shakes her head. "Growing up, I actually liked Grandpa. Then he tried to persuade me to join the Brazilian Integralist Party and we had a.. disagreement."

    Ring, who are-? Oh. Yes, that reminds me a little of when I found out that Patrick Moore would have quite happily genocided Germany. You think you know the Gamesmaster, then it's sort of an uncomfortable 'ooh'.

    "Hugo Danner and the Sons of Dawn would have laughed off the military coup. I don't know whether or not he would have been successful at running the economy, but he was used to the American system of government. I would be astonished if the more unpleasant parts of modern Brazilian history would have occurred. And.. you would never have been born, so there's that." I frown. "Why do you ask?"

    "My grandfather's police murder anyone with strong political opinions while a superhero who would have saved the country rots in prison and you're still asking why I want to be a superhero and not a policewoman?"

    I nod. "Ah."

    "I couldn't face it. Not after my grandfather-. His son's working for LexCorp?" I nod. "I didn't think he had any children."

    "He got together with an old girlfriend shortly before coming to Brazil." I shrug. "I can give you his e-mail address if you want to send him a message."

    "Thanks. So what was that about improving my powers?"

    "We recently apprehended an individual answering to the name-" Provisionally, we have to call her something until she makes a permanent decision. "-'Noriel'. She claims to be the angel responsible for -amongst other things- fire. With her-."

    Beatriz' eyes light up. "She helped you create a ritual we can use to boost me?"

    Technically…

    "Wait." Her eyes narrowed. "You hesitated. Why did you hesitate?"

    "You remember when the angels marked me for death?"

    "Ah. I thought that was some sort of trick."

    "Technically, it was. It still hurt. Anyway, she and some Atlantean mages working for KordTech based the design for the spell on how she manipulates fire. Technically, it won't boost your raw power, but it will allow you to do much more with it."

    "What's the drawback?"

    "Magic is easier to directly counter than metahuman abilities, so don't slack off on your other training. And there's a small chance that fires might start… Pointing at you in defiance of local air currents."

    "And that's it?"

    "I don't use demons, and we already discounted the Parliament of Flames."

    Unhelpful, uncommunicative gits that they/it are/is.

    "So are you up for this?"

    "Yes." She straightens up, and I can see her shift mode into the intelligence agent she used to be. "Let's go."
     
    Last edited: Jun 18, 2019
  25. Threadmarks: Uxoricide, part 12
    Mr Zoat

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    Uxoricide, part 12

    11th September 2004
    02:05 GMT


    "What?"

    Komand'r looks at me with a mild frown on her brow, and that.. slight edge of suspicion, deeply embedded instinct telling her that it might be time to fight or run.

    "How.. old are you?"

    She smiles and rolls her eyes, a slight shake of her head causing her hair to dance in the vacuum as the burning hulks of the Gordanian navy's ships drift past. "Don't worry about getting me a present. This is plenty."

    I lift up the severed head of the navy's admiral. "I… Thought that we could burn our handprints in this together."

    "Awww." She bats her eyelids mock-coquettishly. "Did you punch all the way through a spaceship for me?"

    I hold my arms out, gesturing to the Vega System. "I painted a star system red for you. This was just a matter of pushing back the rage for long enough to remember to keep this part intact. And working out which of them was in charge."

    I mean, they're not batch-produced like the Citadelians, but to a human they still look pretty similar to each other.

    "But to return to my question: which birthday is this?"

    "My sixteenth." She shrugs. "I don't usually make a big deal out of it." Her eyes grow slightly distant. "It's been a while since I've been in any one place long enough to bother."

    "So we.. got together.. when you were fifteen?"

    "You mean when we started fucking?" She nods. "Yeah, I was fifteen."

    "Oh."

    I don't think she can see my eyes through my faceplate, but she's giving me an odd look. "Why does it matter?"

    Ring, find me-.

    "ERRRwrrrrrrrahhH."

    Yes, silly me for asking a red power ring a civil question.

    "Could we please-?"

    She glares. "Tell me."

    "I will, but I want to have this conversation face to face inside an atmosphere." I turn to our left, where Lanterns Skallox and Zox are sitting on a floating lump of debris, watching us. Zox appears to have found a bowl of popcorn somewhe-.

    Ah. No, those are eyeballs.

    Zox notices me watching and holds one out to me. "What? You want one?"

    "In private."

    "Fine. Let's do this in Kysarr." She turns away from me, her hands glowing as she powers herself at faster than light speed back towards Tamaran.

    Skallox leans forward. His badly burned face makes it difficult to read his expression -not that this fucking ring helps at all- but the slight change in the angle of his jawbone makes me think that he might be trying to smile.

    "This it? You're finally going to fight to establish dominance?"

    "That's not how humans do things, Skallox."

    He gets off the debris, 'accidentally' knocking Zox's bowl out of his hands and forcing him to scramble to recover his eyes. "Why not? Lets everyone know where they stand at the start of the relationship. Far simpler than fighting every single time you have to decide anything."

    "I fight people I want to kill. I have no intention of fighting the woman I love."

    My environmental shield flickers and fails, and I notice Skallox recoil for a moment before flying forward and peering in at my visor. "You alright in there?" He reaches forwards to knock on my helmet with his right hand.

    Komand'r wants us to meet in Kysarr because it's the city the Citadel Empire destroyed on the day of her birth.

    My environmental shield reactivates, and I catch Skallox's wrist.

    And while that isn't why we're here to melt their faces, it certainly doesn't hurt to have a personal motive as well.

    "I can't hate everyone all the time, Skallox."

    He looks at me, and I really wish I knew what he was thinking. "Angry, then. The people you're closest to can make you angrier than anyone else. And it doesn't have to be all the time. A couple of minutes, if you beat her real quick. And then you mount her-."

    "Skallox, I like you. You're a good fighter, your help here has been invaluable and I get that you're trying to give useful advice. But you are the last person-."

    Having recaptured most of his meal, Zox shoves his face into his bowl, the action causing him to float in slow circles around his own centre of mass.

    "Second to last person I'd go to for romantic advice." I mean, at least Lord Atrocitus was married once upon a time.

    "Okay, you.. crazy alien. Whatever you say." He looks around. "I'll just go see if there are any lifepods or whatever."

    He generates a tin-opener construct.

    "Have fun with that." I turn in the direction of Tamaran. Ring, I've had enough of your attitude today. Kysarr. Now.

    The universe flares red for a moment, then I'm floating above the overgrown ruins of what used to be a Tamaranian city.

    "Why do you suddenly care about my age?"

    And Komand'r wastes no time in getting in my face. I float down, landing on a ruined but reasonably clear plaza and removing my helmet. She remains floating above me, arms by her sides and fists clenched.

    "Because, where I'm from, a person is legally a child until they reach sixteen. What I've been doing is illegal."

    "And burning your handprint into people's skulls isn't?"

    "Why would I care about whether what I do to some lunatic serial killer is legal or not!?"

    "Then why!? Why do you suddenly care-" Her eyes are glowing purple and energy is crackling around her fingers. I don't think she's doing it consciously, but like my ring her innate powers respond to anger. "-about my age?!"

    "Because if I'd have known I'd have waited! What I did, in my culture it's the same as forcing myself on you!"

    The lights in her eyes dim. Not completely, but I can see her irises again. "What? That's stupid. You weren't exactly my first."

    "Komand'r, you come from Vega. Are you really telling me that I should take what usually happens here as 'correct' or 'moral'?"

    "Who I have sex with is my choice! If I didn't want you then it wouldn't have happened!"

    "I'm not.. arguing-!" Right, Tamaranian. She isn't worried about an older man 'taking advantage', she's getting angry about me insulting her ability to exercise her autonomy. "I appreciate that, but in my mind I.. treated you poorly. I feel bad about that, and because I didn't know about it in advance I was a bit shocked when you told me." I hold up my right fist so that she can see my ring. "And that's the last thing-" My environmental shield dies again. "-I want to do. I love you."

    She blinks, eyes and hands returning to normal as she descends from the sky in a.. slightly uncontrolled way. "Uh-. W-what?"

    "I love you. That's why I-. Why the idea that I haven't treated you properly so horrifies me."

    She blinks again, her mouth hanging open slightly. "Um."

    "You are the last person in the universe I would want to harm, and while I appreciate intellectually that you don't see it that way, that's how I was brought up. I apologise for not explaining this-."

    "I just-. Ah… Need to-." She rises off the ground, pointing vaguely behind her. "Thing."

    "Thing?"

    "At the.. place-." I notice her wince slightly as she hears what she just said. "I'll.. see you later?"

    I get a fraction of a second of her wincing before she flies at speed in the direction of Tamarus.

    Huh.
     
    Last edited: Jun 19, 2019
  26. Threadmarks: Uxoricide, part 13
    Mr Zoat

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    Uxoricide, part 13

    11th September 2004
    02:14 GMT


    "…why I ate my dentist." Lantern Zox grins for a moment, then looks mildly disappointed by my lack of a response. "Hey, that was a big deal for me."

    "Yes… Sorry. I'm.. just a little distracted."

    Obviously, anything that makes someone angry enough to call a red ring must have been pretty traumatic, but I can't.. quite work out why that set Zox off like that. Skallox, sure. He was accused of a crime he didn't commit by someone he'd served loyally and then was thrown in an incinerator on his order, and because red rings are shit at healing he's going to look like he's got a burning skull for a head for the rest of his life. But… Substandard dental work?

    "So…" Zox turns in the direction of Tamarus for a moment, then turns back to me. "She say no..?"

    "Huh?"

    "See, I did hear that crack about me being the last person you'd ask for romantic advice, but I actually come from a civilised region of space. Humanoids like you are everywhere, and even if you all look like shrunken heads on sticks to me, I do get that all the little shrunken head people come from somewhere." He grins in what I'm sure is supposed to be a reassuring way. And it.. sort of is, actually. "Tell Uncle Zilius all about it."

    "She's about half my age."

    "Uh-huh. So she's more fertile than you."

    … "Pos-sibly?"

    "That's a disadvantage in contract negotiations. But given how often you two have been mating, I don't think it bothers her. Does it bother her family? Are they worried that you're incapable of siring children?"

    "Her.. family is just her sister." Who appears genuinely happy that Komand'r and I are together, even if some of her friends are less sanguine about it. "Ah, and her k'norfka, who seems nice enough."

    "Ah, so he'll be handling negotiations on her side. Who have you got?"

    "What do you mean?"

    He blinks at me as if I've said something stupid. "The breeding contract. Obviously you don't fight each other; you're more the type to team up against other people. For money. And I approve: that's a sound way to both build up mutual trust and to create the financial security you need in order to support your offspring."

    "Ah…"

    "But if her family are getting professional negotiators involved, you can still find yourself at a disadvantage. If you haven't taken out a contract yet, you should get on that right away. I know some people. They really work more in criminal law rather than family law, but their firms handle it and they can probably do an internal referral."

    I hold up my hands. "Zox, we're not talking about breeding yet."

    "So you're taking out an option? I respect forward planning, but if you're concerned about getting too old to impregnate her, delaying it any further-."

    "No. No no. Zox…" I really need to get a database on alien cultures at some point. "I'm slightly past my physical prime, but I could wait another twenty years without it being a critical issue. She's young enough that my culture considers her-. Considered her a child until recently."

    He peers at me, realising that he's missing something but unable to work out what it is. "So… She's old enough to handle negotiations herself? That could actually work out best, but you should still stick to a standard contract format, otherwise-."

    "No, it-. I violated a cultural taboo. Like the guy who did your bridge."

    "Oh." He grimaces. "Well, you suck."

    "I know! And she thought that her age meant that I considered her beneath me, and I convinced her that I don't, and that I love her, and she.. fled."

    "Huh." … "No, I'm still on the bridge thing. What'd you do that for?"

    "It's not always externally obvious exactly how old someone is!"

    "So you just didn't bother x-raying her! Just like that skin-gnawing dentist!"

    "I made.. an unwise assumption based on appearance and behaviour. And my main concern is not the violation of the taboo itself, but on the implication for our relationship."

    He peers at me for a moment. "You didn't literally do my bridge, so I'm not that bothered-."

    "No, not you and me. Me and Komand'r. Like… You… Think a female has good genes and you want to sire children on her, and she's up for it but you don't bother making a contract first, and even though you acted with the best of intentions things get messy?"

    "Oh. Oooooh. I get it now." He thinks for a moment. "You should go talk to her. Poor planning or miscommunications in the initial stages can be counteracted, as long as everyone is prepared to work at it."

    I gaze towards distant Tamarus. "Yes, the initial shock should be over by now. Thank you for… Helping."

    He smiles warmly, red acid saliva dripping between his teeth and eating through the brick beneath him. "What are friends for?"

    But if I have ruined my relationship with Komand'r, I'm going to be angry with myself for a good long time.

    Space bends as I hurtle towards the royal palace, the universe snapping back to normal once I reach the settlement. Rather than the relatively conventional city I originally expected, Tamarus here is a largely-underground city running through a fat column of dense rock. I think it used to be some sort of defence silo, but as the attacks got worse Tamaran's people retreated to more defensible locations. I suppose they could expand again now

    I fly up and land in front of the main entrance. Komand'r stopped for a quick 'check me out' when we first arrived, but I haven't actually spoken to anyone myself-.

    A really.. quite huge Tamaranian I recognise as Mr Galfore stomps out to glower at me.

    "Is.. Komand'r in? We had a bit-" He glowers harder, folding his arms across his chest. "-of a miscommunication, and I very much want to talk to her about it."

    He growls.

    O-kay then. "Or you can get in my way. And since she loves you, I won't kill you. But I will injure you just enough that you won't be able-."

    Faster than I can react, he bear hugs me. "I am so happy that my little ember has met someone as bile-filled as she is!"

    "My bones, Mister Galfore! I need my bones!"

    "Ah hah hah hah hah!"

    He drops me, and I… Ugh. Good.. bluff-call. And my ring can't heal. I stretch my compressed joints a little as I follow him back into the palace. The few other Tamaranians I see give me a decidedly respectful look, but I'm not really in the mood to appreciate it. Mr Galfore leads me along a few corridors and comes to a halt in front of a door with 'Everyone Keep Out Especially Koriand'r' painted on it.

    He sniffs as he rereads it, then steps forward and knocks on the door. "Little ember-?"

    "I don't wanna talk to-!"

    "It's him."

    The door is wrenched open and Komand'r-. She stares at me, eyes wide and-. Has she been cry-?

    She grabs my right arm and pulls, wrenching me off my feet and tossing me inside before slamming the door on her guardian's face.

    I push myself up as she stares at me some more.

    "Komand'r-."

    "You love me?"

    "I'm afraid so."

    "Are you sure it's not just sex?"

    "Remember when we fought those dominators, and you couldn’t work out why I let you fight that big guy by yours-?"

    "You said you didn't want to intrude."

    "I couldn't. The beautiful savagery you displayed when you went all-out left me transfixed. Your wonderfully carnal fury left me speechless."

    "Oh."

    "I don't expect you to feel the same way-."

    "But I.. think I.. do?" She looks away. "Remember when we killed those vampires in Russia, and then sat outside their cabin as the sun came up? And I put my head on your lap and you stroked my hair and I fell asleep?"

    "Yes, of course I do."

    "I don’t do that! I don't.. relax around people like-." She looks at me, a little lost. "I like you. I like fighting with you, killing with you, fucking you... And that was fine but I could give it up at any time and now just being around you makes me happy and relaxed and I don't know what's going on!"

    I take a step towards her and she's on me, kissing me hard and wrapping her arms around me to trap my arms by my side. And then she pulls back. "I don't…"

    "Do you trust me?"

    "… No?" … "Yes."

    "Do you believe that I love you?"

    "Yes."

    "Then what's the problem? We can keep doing all the things we've been doing."

    "I don't like feeling like this. It feels… Vulnerable."

    "You're changing the habits of a lifetime. It's normal for that to feel uncomfortable. But you'll beat your discomfort like you beat everything else. And I'll be there to help."

    She stares into my eyes, and the vulnerability starts to fade.

    "Okay. I'll.. try it." She pauses briefly. "Have you.. still got the head?"

    I smile warmly at her, raising it with my right hand. "Of course I've still got the head."
     
    Last edited: Jun 20, 2019
  27. Threadmarks: Doppelgängered (part 1)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    Doppelgängered

    1st February
    12:52 GMT +1


    "Oh." Thaddeus Junior lowers his… I don't actually know what that is, once he sees that it's just me. "You want something?"

    "I need to talk to Georgia, actually." And this time I came in via the door rather than just teleporting to her. I don't for a moment doubt that the Sivanas have improved their anti-intrusion measures since my return to Earth. "Is she at home?"

    He looks mildly confused. "No, she's in the workshop." His hands are already fiddling with the 'ray gun' in his hands as he steps back from the door. "Come in."

    "Thank you."

    He nods distractedly, taking some sort of matter sculpting tool out of his lab coat and using it on his ray gun. "Sure, whatever. This way."

    The corridors… Have been slightly modified since my last visit. Someone has put some paint on them for a start, and there are pictures… There are variants of historically significant pictures with members of the Sivana family replacing their original focus. I actually stop and wince at the sight of the Sivanafied version of The Scream.

    "Is your.. father branching out?"

    "Huh?" Thaddeus had made it most of the way down the corridor without realising that I was no longer with him. He stops tinkering with his ray gun and walks back, trying to work out why I stopped. "Oh, that. It's his parallel universe life coach guy. He suggested that Dad try something expressive that.. wasn't a ray gun." He shakes his head. "I don't get it. Ray guns are plenty expressive, aren't they? But anyway, Dad wrote a computer algorithm and this… Well, these are the result."

    "Huh."

    "Yeah, that was what I said. Eh, I suppose it covers the turret hatch." He heads back down the corridor. "You coming?"

    I.. take a step away from the painting, shrug slightly and then follow him.

    "Hey, Georgia. You got a visitor."

    With one false start, Georgia extracts herself from the interior of… Some sort of rocket? And pushes the welding mask up before looking around. She sees me and smiles warmly. "Ah, Orange Lantern! To what do I owe this pleasure?"

    "Georgia, I need help only you can provide."

    "Well, natur-."

    "Georgia!" Thaddeus glares at her. "We're not supposed to mind control him! Remember what Tia said!"

    "I didn't mind control him." She preens, nose up and right hand on her chest. "He's simply seeking me out because he recognises my brilliance."

    I tilt my head thirty degrees to the right. "She did not mind control me. I simply sought her out because I recognise her brilliance."

    She regards me contemplatively. "Or… Did I-? No, no, that was humour."

    I straighten up, smiling. "Well spotted."

    She nods, satisfied. "We're not quite so bad as Dad. What is it you need my help for?"

    "I need you to use your mad science powers for me."

    "I'm afraid we're a little busy with this sheeda mess-."

    "Hey!" Thaddeus glares at me. "What's so special about her mad science powers?! I'm a mad scientist too!"

    "But I need a mad social scientist, and you-"

    "It is a soft subject!"

    "-were quite emphatic that you don't respect the discipline."

    Georgia stalks towards her brother. "It's not a soft subject! Do you have any idea how hard it is to eliminate independent variables from a study of giant monster attacks!?"

    Thaddeus gesticulates, apparently forgetting that he's holding a ray gun. "Not as hard as making giant monster attacks!"

    Georgia and he square up to one another. "I couldn't use data from attacks I made, that would risk biasing the data!"

    "Excuse me?"

    "What?!" / "What?!"

    "If we could take this back to my original enquiry?"

    Thaddeus rolls his eyes. "Fine. I'll go and do some real science." He stamps towards one of the other doors. "Can't make strangle-broccoli with social science."

    Georgia waits until the door is closed before relaxing her posture and shaking her head. "There's no talking to him when he's like that. So." She turns back to me, smiling winsomely. "Who are we experimenting on today?"

    "Not experimenting. Putting into practice."

    "Oooooooooooooh. I like the sound of this." She grins. "What are we doing?"

    "Advanced technology does not propagate well through our society. Captain Cold robs banks rather than building freezers, despite the obvious financial incentives for him to do so. Superman sits on a treasure trove of alien technology that could revolutionise the way we live, but contents himself with inefficiently punching things rather than rendering that punching unnecessary in spite of his genuine desire to do good in the world."

    "And you want to know why? I suppose that Dad's example-."

    "No. It's not that I'm not curious, but I don't need to know 'why'. I need it to stop."

    She raises her eyebrows. "To stop?"

    "To stop. I don't know if it's psychological, something to do with our social structures, our evolutionary biology, our.. financial systems… But things aren't happening which -on the surface- it appears should be. And I need it to stop, so they can start. I don't…" I take a breath. "I'm pretty good at understanding the motivations of individuals, but… My empathic abilities don't work on groups. You're… Literally the only person I can think of who might be able to solve this for me."

    "Hnm." She frowns thoughtfully. "It's a puzzle. But… We're supposed to be working on the sheeda problem."

    "Your father and your brother are perfectly capable of making weapons. But the more widespread they are the better. It's nearly pointless if no one is prepared to use them."

    Georgia glances guiltily at her rocket.. thing. "We weren't planning on handing them out. This is personal."

    "But why? If the aim is just to beat the sheeda, shouldn't you want to maximise our chances? And it's not as if people haven't tried to kill your father or you before."

    She frowns, her right hand stroking her chin and her gaze distant. "That… Is… Curious."

    "If you can crack this, high value weapons created all over the world will suddenly become available en masse. And as I said, you're the only one who can do this. Mad social scientists don't come along very often at all."

    "I… Suppose that it wouldn't hurt to take a look. And you're right; it would benefit from my particular insight. Have to…" She glances at her rocket again. "Finish this off first…"

    "Thank you. I really appreciate it. Oh, and if you want to gather some first hand data I'm going to visit Captain Cold today. Do you want to tag along?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 21, 2019
  28. Threadmarks: Doppelgängered (part 2)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    1st February
    07:24 GMT -5


    "Ah, sorry, Orange Lantern." The correctional officer who is escorting me through Belle Reve's entrance looks a little awkward. "With all the work we're having done on the prison, the usual interview rooms are out of action right now."

    "I hope that I'm not putting prison security at risk. I'm happy to reschedule."

    "Prisoners get mighty upset when their schedules aren't kept to. And no, Warden says the people you talk to are all low risk, so there ain't no risk to the prison."

    "I'm pleased that she thinks so highly of my efforts."

    The officer radios his control room and the heavily armoured door in front of us clanks open. This part of the prison is still fairly similar to how it looked when I first started visiting. The arcane containment wing is elsewhere, though there are a few glyphs attached to the walls to extend the simpler security spells to cover the mundane inmates as well.

    Leonard is already waiting with his own slightly burlier escort of two correctional officers on the far side. He doesn't smile when he sees me, but I do get a respectful nod. My escort gets a similar nod from Leonard's escort, then turns to our right and leads the way along one of the interior corridors. I fall in next to Leonard, with his escort bringing up the rear.

    "You doing alright?"

    "Can't complain."

    And that's probably all I'm going to get while there are witnesses around. A quick scan reveals no new injuries, and his body chemistry suggests that he's less stressed than he used to be.

    The correctional officer in front raises his right hand and comes to a stop just before an intersection. "Ah, just a minute. Laundry detail coming through."

    I nod, and there's a chime of warning as the security doors opposite us open and a pair of armed officers walk through, leading…

    The manacled Mr Crock and I make momentary eye contact. I smile, shrug, then turn to my left and raise my right hand to blinker my right eye so that I can't see him. The guards lead his group around the corner away from us and head towards the laundry room. Leonard gives me a small frown, then appears to brush it off.

    "Not far now."

    I lower my hand once more as we proceed to… I think it's a temporarily converted medical cell. Leonard's detail escort him to the actual chair on the right, while mine just smiles politely at me.

    "If you need anything else, just shout out and we'll be right in."

    "Thank you."

    Leonard slouches in his chair as his guards file out, though I notice that he's watching my escort very intently as the man leaves the room and closes the door behind him. I run a visible strobe of orange light around the room to make sure that Waller isn't playing silly buggers -she's usually pretty good about that, but it makes Leonard happy that I'm checking- and find nothing. Then I sit down opposite him, mirroring his relaxed posture.

    "So. Anything you want to talk about, Doctor Snart?"

    He tries to disguise it, but I can tell he's smiling. "Sam sent me a cake. They nearly stuck me in solitary when they realised that the silver ball things were tiny mirrors. Bastard probably thought it was hilarious." He snorts. "Think I'm the first person in America to become a doctor while in prison?"

    "I can't think of any others."

    "What was that thing with your hand?"

    I smile. "Amusing story. Do you know who Horatio Nelson was?" He shakes his head. "British Admiral in the eighteenth century. He was blind in one eye after a failed attack on a French fort, and his career was at a low ebb until the British navy tried attacking a Danish fleet in Copenhagen harbour. The commanding admiral signalled a withdrawal, Nelson raised his telescope-" I mime the action. "-to his blind eye and said 'I really do not see the signal'. He then ordered his half of the fleet in and shot the Danish fleet to pieces, an action from which we derive the phrase 'turn a blind eye', meaning to notice a thing but to decide to ignore it."

    "And what were you ignoring?"

    "Mister Crock. I'm friends with his ex-wife and younger daughter and I'm dating his elder daughter." My smile dims slightly. "And I told him that if he had any contact with any member of his family ever again I'd kill him. And while you can't make a threat and fail to carry it out without losing credibility, a chance encounter in a corridor doesn't seem worth actioning a threat over. So." I raise my right hand. "Blind eye."

    "'Any member of his family'?"

    "He wasn't quite as bad a father as yours was. He did appear to be trying to teach them lessons on how to be a criminal. Those lessons just happened to involve a similar level of bruising and broken bones."

    Leonard slouches back. "Fuck him, then."

    "Quite. How are things going with your mother?"

    "We've talked.. some." He shrugs, not meeting my eyes. "She says she's sorry for abandoning us. I believe her. For what it's worth."

    "I did notice that you never went after your father."

    "No point. All in the past."

    I nod, and wait for him to pick a new topic.

    "I got a letter. Some company wants to hire me to work on their freeze rays, once I get out. Maybe do some work from inside."

    My eyes widen slightly as I smile. "That's excellent. Are you actually going to go for it?"

    He shrugs. "Maybe. Depends. I want to know more about the man I'd be working for first."

    I nod. "Sensible. Who is it? What's the name of the company?"

    "Alva Technologies."

    "No."

    He frowns, clearly surprised. "What? Why not?"

    "Edwin Alva has an unfortunate habit of fucking over his talent." Can't directly mention Mr Metcalf. "Just a moment."

    Ring, court case summaries.

    Compliance.

    A pile of paper appears on the table between us.

    "Here's a few of the cases that have been brought by his ex-employees. The few whose cases weren't quashed by judges he owns were financially exhausted by his delaying tactics. I would strongly caution you against working for him if there was any alternative."

    "How many offers do you think I'm getting?"

    "I don’t know."

    "One other, and that's LexCorp, and I know you're not-."

    "Actually"

    He frowns. "What? We both know that LexCorp's-."

    "Yes. But. Most of their work is legitimate, Lex tends to treat his talent decently… As long as they keep up their side of the contract, anyway. And he generally doesn't use direct employees for skulduggery, because it's too easy for it to get traced back to him. If you made it clear that you weren't interested in returning to your former occupation in any way from the first… You'd probably be okay."

    "Never thought I'd hear a superhero recommending that I work for Lex Luthor." He regards me curiously. "You sure?"

    "Sure?" I shake my head. "No. But if those are your options, then LexCorp is definitely the better one."
     
    Last edited: Jun 22, 2019
  29. Threadmarks: Doppelgängered (part 3)
    Mr Zoat

    Mr Zoat Dedicated ragequitter

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    1st February
    22:34 GMT -5


    "Frederick, I think you should think very carefully about-."

    He fires the second barrel of his shotgun directly into Richard's chest, forcing him to brace himself slightly.

    "The fuck are you?!"

    "Now, Frederick, think it through. Why would the result-"

    He turns to run, then trips over one of his net-entrapped colleagues.

    "-be different the second time?"

    Richard steps forward and handcuffs Frederick's ankles together before he can get back on his feet.

    "You know, it used to be that when people shot at me I had to dodge."

    "If you really miss it I could clone you a new body?"

    He pantomimes thinking for a moment, then shakes his head. "Nah, I'm good."

    "Uh uh uh!"

    Frederick tries to get to his feet, trips, and-

    "Uuuughfuckin'idiot!"

    -thumps his bound colleague on the back, causing his face to smack into the pavement.

    Richard winces in sympathy. "Okay, I'm calling this a mercy arrest." He effortlessly pulls Frederick's arms behind his back and cuffs him there as well. "Now, can you lie still or do I have to gas you?"

    "Ah, excuse me?" A woman in Congregation uniform jogs down the road towards us. "Can I help?"

    Richard nods. "I think we're freaking them out. Could you sit on them until the police get here?"

    "Sure, I can do that! Just a sec." She closes her eyes and bows her head, then two other Congregationalists flash into being next to her. "Do they have any serious injuries?"

    "Fuckin'idiotbrokem'fuckin'nose!"

    "No, no they don't." I glance at Richard, but he doesn't appear concerned in any way. "Thank you for your assistance." I take a data stick out of subspace and put onto it a full recording of the period leading up to the 'fight', as well as the confrontation itself. "Please hand this over to the officer in charge."

    She takes it. "Can do!" I nod, smile, and-. "Ah..?"

    "Gotham police are well used to this sort of thing, it won't be-."

    Richard walks forward with pen in hand as she pulls out a small notebook and holds it out towards him. "Who do I make it out to?"

    "S-shannon?"

    "Sure." He signs it and then turns to me. "Oh El?"

    I take it, and… I've never been all that sure what to put on these. The few times a 'fan' gets me in a position where I feel obliged to do this I just sign 'Orange Lantern', but Shannon here is actually being a useful auxiliary. 'Thank you for your assistance, Illustres, Orange Lantern Corps'. I look at it for a moment. Yeah, that should do. I float the book and the data stick to Shannon and the pen back to Richard.

    "Thankyou!"

    I look over to Richard. "Want a lift-"

    He crouches and then leaps, easily passing the third floor and landing on the roof.

    "-up? Okay then."

    I fly up after him, following as he begins to parkour across the rooftops.

    "Are we expecting anything else to happen this evening?"

    "Nah, not really. To be honest, things have gotten a lot quieter lately."

    "Have they?"

    "Yeah. I mean, Batman broke up the old families-"

    "With a little help from Mr Dent."

    "They were going down anyway. And once that happened, it was only a matter of time until City Hall and the police got cleaned out. Right now, we're seeing record low unemployment, so street crime's way down. Most of the 'theme criminals' are either in Arkham or Belle Reve."

    "Not Blackgate?"

    "No, the warden agreed that putting gangs with their bosses wasn't a great idea."

    "Are the Congregation making themselves useful?"

    "Yeah. They're so popular in Gotham now that it's almost like having a city-wide surveillance system. And they trust the police enough to actually contact them when they hear about something."

    "No internal corruption?"

    "Nothing substantial substantiated." We come to the end of the block and he accelerates, easily leaping from one side of the road to the other.

    "You know you.. could just use a kinetic belt for that."

    He lands in a roll, then springs to his feet again. "Sure, if I wanted to take all the fun out of this."

    "How are things with your foster-mother?"

    "It's…" He slows to a jog, then stops completely. "Well, my Arabic's getting better. She's… More… I think she's trying to Mom me, but she comes off more like she's conducting an interrogation."

    "She did grow up in the League of Shadows. But I'm sure that your future brothers and/or sisters will be grateful to you for wearing down her rough edges."

    "I'll remind them." He looks over the city rooftops for a moment, then turns back to me. "So. Zatanna's birthday?"

    "Y.. es."

    "Are you… Going..?"

    "How is.. she.. doing?"

    "Not all of us have your empathic vision, Oh El." He sighs quietly. "She seems… Okay? She's been spending more time with her school friends, and… Working on her stage act. She's going to be joining Mister Zatara on his next residency."

    "That sounds… That sounds good?"

    "She knows it wasn't going to work out. With you." I nod. "Was it.. the Star Sapphire, making her act like that?"

    "No, it was Drakul Karfang making her act like that. But… No. I.. had some people check the wards on the staff. They weren't breached, and they were doing what they were meant to. But drawing on its power required that she focus on love. And she wasn't just doing that for the fight with Nabu, and she didn't stop afterwards. Every time she used magic, she was focusing on how much she.. loved me. Thinking about the things that made her love me."

    "Kinda like how I ended up bulletproof."

    "No, if.. she'd called the Predator, I'd be trapped in a block of violet crystal right now. But… Yes, it's a similar idea. The enchantments contained the corruption, not the normal psychological effects." I sigh. "But… I don't want her to think that she's completely alienated me. I still.. like her. I only-."

    "You're only staying away because you want her to get better."

    I nod. "I don't think… Maybe after the birthday party? Would that work?"

    "I think she'd appreciate it."

    "Then that's what I'll do. So… What's your uncle up to these days?"
     
    Last edited: Jun 23, 2019
  30. Threadmarks: Doppelgängered (part 4)
    Mr Zoat

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    4th February
    22:46 GMT


    Jade raises her steaming cup of.. some sort of red coloured sap distillate, and regards it contemplatively. "I think this is the strangest thing about living here."

    I reach across her apartment's small table, take hold of her left hand and raise it to my lips. "The endless tracts of space separating you from your one true love?"

    She regards me with a look of affectionate contempt. "No. The food."

    I take a small sip from my own cup. "Doesn't taste that strange to me. I expected it to be sweeter, but that's probably because-."

    She nods. "Because you're thinking 'maple'. And rubber would be thicker. Whereas this tastes like tea."

    "Only tea doesn't come in this colour."

    "Or this texture." She takes a sip, and I watch her throat as she swallows. "I traveled all over Earth when I was a Shadow. I could fit in on every continent. But I haven't tried more than a tiny fraction of all the different food in this city alone."

    I turn, looking out of her window towards the… Well, the apartment block opposite. Maltusian cities are built very high rise, and at the edge of the city the cut off is so severe that it looks a little like someone cut along the streets around the central business district of a much larger city and plonked it down. Every apartment has access to holographic displays if the residents want a view, but you don't get much in terms of a 'real' view.

    "We could live here indefinitely and not manage that."

    "Oh?" She raises her right eyebrow and takes another sip. "Planning on moving in?"

    "Pushing the Reach back will take a while. You might decide that you want to live here, rather than back on Earth."

    "It's.. possible." She looks thoughtful. "But I don't think I will. It's too… Artificial. Too planned. It almost doesn't feel real."

    "There are-."

    The door opens, and Jade's flatmate walks in. I've seen her in the background during Jade's calls before, but this is the first time we've met in person. Green skin, black hair, face is.. slightly oriental in its configuration. From Tillettit, though since both her eyes are organic I'm going to assume that she's from one of the other continents.

    "Oh." She takes in Jade's pyjamas and relaxed demeanour, looks me over, gives me a friendly smile… And then blinks as she spots the rings. "Oh."

    "Good morning, or… Whatever time zone you're working on."

    "You're-. The Illustres."

    I turn back to Jade. "Jade, did you just not mention me at all? Are you too ashamed to talk about me to your friends?"

    "No, I mentioned you."

    "She did. I just.. wasn't sure that I believed her. You're-. Could you just make a construct or something, because I'm having a hard time-."

    I raise my left hand and generate a construct globe of Tillettit.

    "I'm really sorry. Um, My Lord Illustres. I am Darkstar Cadet Caccanah."

    I dismiss the globe. "I asked Lantern Coutara not to call me that. Please, 'Illustres' if you must, but my name is fine. I'm not in your chain of command."

    "No, but because of you my people have space travel now. And you wiped out a religion that was blinding all the women living wherever it infected."

    "Lanterns Coutara and Taranna did most of the work."

    "But it wouldn't have happened without you being there. It was always… Everyone else hated it, but the only way to change it would have been an invasion and.. so many people would have died, it.. just…"

    "I understand."

    "How long.. have the two of you..?"

    "We've been 'together' romantically for less than half a year."

    "I didn’t think Orange Lanterns-."

    I hold out my right hand and call the Staff of Love to me, laying my right palm over the crystal on the end and generating a violet sigil with it at the same time as generating an orange one over my left hand.

    "Orange Lanterns can feel love. Banning Orange Lanterns from feeling anything is counterproductive on several levels. It's just that below a certain level of self-mastery, feeling one emotion strongly enough to use a power ring usually precludes feeling another emotion strongly at the same time. And most of the current generation of Orange Lanterns are so focused on being the most powerful Orange Lanterns they can be that they're.. not looking for other sorts of emotional connection at the moment. There's no actual ban."

    She makes a minor gesture of obeisance. "I will.. bear that in mind. Do you want me to leave the two of you alone?"

    I look at Jade. "Don't think I haven't noticed you putting off speaking to Zatanna. Go. I'm not being deployed for another two days. And it's not as if it's harder for you to reach me in the Periphery than it is here."

    I stand, nodding. "You're right." She tilts her head back as I lean down and gently press my lips against hers. "I'll see you in a few hours."

    4th February
    17:49 GMT -5


    Ah, Shadowcrest. Good to see you again. I deposit the Staff of Love into a subspace pocket and take out Zatanna's birthday present: a near-complete record of magic as practised on Euphorix in the Vega system. They don't appear to have ever really adopted a scientific approach to it so I doubt that the record has much practical value, but I hope that she'll find it at least somewhat interesting. I walk up the path and…

    Ring, dial 'Zatanna Zatara'.

    Compliance.

    "Ah, hello?"

    "Good afternoon."

    "P-Paul?"

    "That's me. I'm walking up your front path now with a.. belated birthday present."

    "I'm.. not at home right now. I… Wasn't expecting-."

    "No, of.. course." I stop. "When are you… Free..?"

    "After dinner?"

    "Okay. Um. Do you… Want to meet up in the Mountain?"

    "I've… Ah, hang on." There's a beep, then her phone goes silent. I turn around and walk back down the path, returning my present to subspace. "Sorry, right. Um, I've been avoiding the Mountain? You said-. I mean, you're right, but you said we should avoid each other, and-."

    "I didn't-. I wasn't banning you from the Mountain. I'm not living there myself."

    "Oh."

    "Being in the same place.. with other friends, that's probably… Fine? And Kara's been wanting to show us some Kryptonian cinema for a while. I mean, if you're interested."

    "Yes, that… I'd like that. I'll… See you later?"

    "I'll see you later."
     
    Last edited: Jun 24, 2019
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