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

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
09:25 GMT -5

Rob shifts awkwardly as the two of us wait outside the Bio-Ship. Roy's inside with Mister Freeman, familiarising himself with the controls. He's flown the Bio-Ship a few times in training but out of all of us he needs the experience of flying on a mission most. "Um. Look, I didn't want to say anything when Batman was there… But…"

"What is it?"

His eyes flick up towards the ceiling for a moment. "You know I..? Teleported here, right?"

"Yes, you said."

"Right. Err. There's a… In the grove? There's a naked woman? I think she's drunk? I dunno what the procedure is."

I look around as the lift door opens and the fully tooled-up Atlanteans emerge to join us. "Oh, that's Euanthe."

"Oh, right. Euanthe. Yeah."

"Yes." He keeps looking at me as I turn away to enter the Bio-Ship. Antarctica is ice over rock rather than just ice, so our Atlanteans don't have quite the same options they'd have in the Arctic. Still, the temperatures mean that a water spray would be pretty disabling. How quickly would it freeze..? No, they can manipulate ice without turning it back into water, and airborne ice particulates are fine for electrical generation.

Mister Freeman is sitting in the front left while Roy's at the pilot station. I focus for a moment and the ship extrudes a chair for me next to Roy. He's still wearing the light power armour I made for him. I should be able to upgrade it to mithril in a couple of weeks but I want to prioritise the Justice League's metamaterial equipment upgrade ahead of my team's. They're the ones who regularly do heavy direct combat, after all.

He glances at me with a wry smile. "You're that confident, huh?"

"This is just in case we encounter a lot more resistance than we should. We're just going to-." I look around as Kaldur and the others board, Garth and Tula taking the seats on the left side of the cabin. "Aqualad, how far out do you want me to put us?"

"Two kilometers." He takes the seat just in front of me and turns it around to face me. "I am a little concerned about Euanthe's state of intoxication."

"I told her to go easy on the fruit. I'll have a word when we get back."

From the back left of the ship Rob looks at us with obvious confusion. "Okay, seriously. Who's Euanthe?"

"A Dryad of my acquaintance."

"Oh! So she's been eating Swamp Thing's fruit to… Power up?"

"Yep. Only to her-"

Kaldur waves his hand over the instrument panel and the hangar doors begin to open.

"-they're like catnip. She'll be a bit out of it until she's adjusted."

Roy raises his hands over the controls. "I'm taking us up. Engaging camouflage." The Bio-Ship rises smoothly up from the landing pad and accelerates forwards, stealth system coming on as we pass through the external doors and accelerate into the Happy Harbour sky. "Minimum distance for transition in.. forty seconds."

I start plotting the route for the transition. Weather at the other end seems clear. No real reason to pick one direction over another.

"Aquagirl." Kaldur looks across the cabin. "Send a message to the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station as soon as we appear. It would be best if they kept their distance while we investigate."

"Right."

"Orange Lantern, do you recognise the design of the pod at all?"

I shake my head. "Sorry, it's too generic. Hundreds of species -including all the spacefaring ones in this Sector- could have built it. Might be able to tell more with a closer look."

Roy looks around. "Minimum distance."

I nod, turning my attention to the front window. "Transitioning in two, one, now."

1st April
14:28 GMT

The window is suddenly filled with clear blue skies and an expanse of white ground beneath, flecks of grey visible where the snow has been blown clear of the underlying rocks. I keep a filament attached to the hull just in case I have to put construct armour around the Bio-Ship. No, doesn't look like the pod thing suddenly turned into a killbot on us.

"This is Aquagirl calling the Amundsen-Scott Station. Come in, please."

"Coming up on the alien pod now."

I narrow my eyes and look out through the ring's sensors. Yep, that's a pod alright. There's a snowmobile next to it, but no sign of the rider. The snowmobile tracks lead off in the direction of the Station, so… Someone went out to investigate, then disappeared. No blood or ash and according to Batman it's only been minutes…

"Rats."

Kaldur inclines his head slightly. "Someone has visited it already."

"Whatever was disrupting my scan of the pod is no longer in situ." I sit back slightly, a cut away construct of the pod appearing before me. "Nothing special about the pod itself. No life support… I'd say it was a cargo container."

Mister Freeman looks the image over carefully. "Not quite. A standardised cargo pod would either be larger for bulk transport or better protected for valuables."

I shrug. Sure, I knew that most would be, but no other purposes leap out at me. "What do you think it is, then?"

"The thing which most comes to mind is a refuse pod, but that does not seem to fit its behavior."

"This is Aquagirl calling the Amundsen-Scott Station. Please respond."

Roy turns his eyes in my direction for a second as he floats the Bio-Ship towards a landing area. "What's it carrying?"

Wha-? "From the looks of it… Socks."

"Socks?"

"Yep."

"You can't be serious."

"Fifty one pairs, neatly ironed. And…" Huh. "A fifty second pair which appears to be of Earthly origin. A couple of other boxes have been opened. Tentatively, I… Think whoever brought the snowmobile out here changed their clothes before they left."

"Wouldn't they freeze to death? It's got to be ten below outside."

"Minus twenty one-. Wait, Fahrenheit or Celsius?"

Kaldur smiles very slightly. "In either case, it would not be healthy for a normal Human to be exposed to without their clothing."

Tula looks up, shaking her head. "They're not responding."

Ring, scan-. "Whatever it was that was stopping me scanning the pod earlier, I'm getting the same thing from Amundsen-Scott Station's dome. Not picking up any people."

Garth frowns. "How many people are there at this time of year?"

"Fifty or so. And I can't see any corpses, either. This is… Really quite odd."

Kaldur nods. "Aqualad to Watchtower."

"Go ahead, Aqualad."

"We believe that an object has been removed from the alien pod and transferred to the Amundsen-Scott Station. We will confirm that the pod is safe and then proceed on to the Station."

Batman barely pauses. "Confirmed. I will continue monitoring from here."

Roy looks at me as the Bio-Ship sets down. "This armor has heating elements, right?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
14:31 GMT

The Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station is an ugly jumped-up portacabin of a building balancing on stilts over a foundation of densely compacted snow. Mister Freeman and I float over the structure, looking down. "Not seeing any sign of a disturbance. No sign of forced entry. One snowmobile missing, the one left by the pod… Apart from the lack of people everything seems to be in order."

Down below, Kaldur looks pensive. Usually, this sort of scenario goes one of two ways: 'obvious enemy' or 'nothing to worry about'. Large numbers of people disappearing completely is weird. Someone wearing power armour could have survived travelling in that pod, but if they were hostile they'd have attacked the first person to investigate and wouldn't have bothered cleaning up after themselves this well. Same with a predatory creature; even if they ate everything there would be blood on the snow, to say nothing of how the snow itself would be disturbed.

"Orange Lantern, Icon. Do you have any idea what this could be?"

"Best I've been able to come up with is a nanotech swarm. One of those could completely disintegrate a person, and they love cold weather. And with the right programming it could build something to interfere with power ring scans."

Mister Freeman looks thoughtfully at me. "That seems unlikely to me. The nearest place in which such weaponry has been used is far outside of this Space Sector."

"I agree it's unlikely, but…" I shrug. "Other than 'something which does exactly what we've encountered and hasn't ever been seen by anyone before' it's the only thing I can think of." I look down. "Sorry, Aqualad."

"It is hardly your fault that you are not omniscient. Tempest-."

"What the-?!"

All our heads snap in the direction of the geodesic dome which housed the previous incarnation of the Station. Garth and Tula are standing at the base of the dome, peering inside. For some reason not only can the rings not scan inside there but the transparent dome surface is opaque.

"Tempest, report!"

"No, it's-. I'm fine, it's just… The dome's warm, and.. I can feel a large body of water inside."

Wat?

Kaldur halts his jog towards his friends' position. "You are sure?"

"Dowsing's a first year spell, Aqualad."

How does that work in Atlantis? 'Yes, I'm underwater'?

Tula holds out her hands and there's a brief pale blue glow. "He's right. There's definitely liquid water in there."

Mister Freeman and I look at each other. I throw up my arms in bewilderment.

"Cornwall, Speedy, attempt to gain entry. Pull back at the first sign of a threat." They turn towards him, nod, then they walk into the short tunnel containing the door. "Orange Lantern, are you still able to track them?"

"Yes. No problem so far. Do you want me to put construct armour on them?"

He thinks for a moment. "There is no direct evidence that anyone has been harmed, and if we have an alien visitor I would rather not alarm them unduly."

"Right you are."

Roy walks up to the door and triggers his armour's thermal vision. "The door's definitely warmer than the surrounding environment. Can't see any traps. Cornwall?"

"Can't feel any magic affecting it. Thermodynamics are weird, though. The ice should be melting a bit with the door this warm."

"We're not going to learn anything else out here."

Kaldur starts walking in their direction. "If you believe that it is safe to proceed, do so."

Roy takes a step back, putting an arrow on string but keeping it pointing downwards. I'm pleased to see that the armour doesn't seem to be impairing his mobility. He nods to Rob, who pauses for a moment and then tries the door handle. It turns easily, Rob pushing it open slightly further than he meant to and then pulling it to again. "Door's not locked. Warm air coming out. No smoke or anything."

Roy raises his bow slightly. "Let's keep going."

Rob pushes the door wider.. and.. I've lost picture. "Boundary effect on the door. I've lost picture."

"Speedy, Cornwall, report."

"It's.. a…"

"It's a beach."

"Come again?"

"Like, with sand and that. Feels like thirty degrees in here. I can.. just about see the dome up in the sky, but it's miles away."

Mister Freeman's frown deepens. "Spatial warping? Unlikely. Aqualad, I advise checking for holographic imaging equipme-"

"Hey there!"

-nt."

"Speedy, right? Or is it Arsenal? Or Red Arrow? Hey, whatever you want to call yourself, you're cool with me. Put her there, pal!"

"Ah. Aqualad? Some weird looking guy just walked up to us. He's wearing a green onesie with a weird mask and then he's got Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt on top of that."

"Is he armed?"

"And.. I know you! You're Cornwall Boy! Huh, and people say I'm niche. Aloha, one shot wonder!"

"Just with a cocktail. Ah, looks like all the other scientists are here as well."

"Any more out there? Invite them in already!"

"Are they in good health?"

"Think so. Speedy just went to check. Yes, I'm-. Excuse me sir, but who are you?"

"Doctor Irwin Schwab, but you can call me-" A green figure with yellow.. thingies extending out of the top of his mask materialises next to Kaldur. "-Ambush Buuuuuuuug!" Another flicker and they disappear. "Hey, you guys work with Jackson Hyde? Weird. But, y'know, cool. Take a load off."

"Jackson… Hyde..?"

"Oh, okay. Kaldur'ahm. I can respect that. Anyone else?"

I look at Mister Freeman. "A man got super powers from an alien crash and used it to create a beach in Antarctica. There are.. worse things he could have done."

There's a flicker, and… Doctor Schwab is perched on Mister Freeman's shoulders. "And Icon? Glad they're finally letting you out of the Dakotabox, buddy. And…" He orientates his head on me. I can't see his eyes under the red goggles that appear to be part of his green with yellow antenna ski-mask. In fact, I don't think I can see any part of his skin at all. Ambush Bug… Vaguely remember hearing about him. "I.. don't know who you are."

"Doctor Schwab, we rather need to talk to you about the alien pod you-."

"Wait!" He leans closer and.. I'm.. not sure why he isn't falling off. "I know what you are." His right hand tremors slightly as he raises it to point it accusingly at me. "You're not from around here."

"Antarctica? No. I'm-."

"You're an SI!" He dives at me, shimmers and then reappears directly in front of me, his right fist swinging around and- "Ow." -bouncing off my power armour's faceplate. "We'll see about that." There's another shimmer and my armour-. My armour's gone! I hurriedly generate construct armour as another flicker signals his reappearance. "No filthy SI in my story!" Ahghah! He's not very strong but his fist went right through my construct and my environmental shield. I transition away and-.

"Canon for the Canon God! Scribes for the scribe throne!"

There's some sort of robotic looking insect on my chest-.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Suicide Squad, part 0

1st April
10:16 GMT -6

Amanda Waller looks up with a sigh as I walk into her office, before sliding the paperwork she had been doing aside and steepling her hands. "What is it this time?"

I shake my head. "I can't believe you actually did it." I come to a halt a metre away from her desk. "I warned you what would happen when we met in Washington, I got you your job back so you wouldn't need to… And you got your Suicide Squad created anyway!" She nods. She's not going to bother denying it. "What the hell?"

"Our prisoners are Americans and some of them want to volunteer. I thought you'd be all over something that might get your friends out a few years early."

"You're planning to use them as deniable assets. Leaving aside the fact that they'd be killed if whoever you sent them after caught them… Can you imagine what would happen to Belle Reve if their identities were revealed? It would look like this place was full of holes again! After all the trouble we both went through to get people on-side again after Strange-."

Waller reaches into her desk and pulls out a small pill. "Know what this is?"

Ring, scan. Oh.

"Suicide device. Looks like the same thing the Chinese give their Xeno Teams."

"Some sorta alien technology-."

"Durlan."

She looks directly at me for a moment, then returns it to her desk. "You'd know. We'll give one to every operative. They die or get captured, no evidence."

I stare at her for a moment, then pull out the visitor chair and sit down. "I assume that the existence of this group isn't intended to become public knowledge."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm not even sure how you found out about it."

"I have my ways."

She sits back. "Alright. So, you know. What do you plan on doing about it? The Taskforce X project will still go ahead anyway. It's legal-."

"I wouldn't go that far."

"We have Senate oversight. The US government doesn't need to announce everything it does."

"Fine. But this is an issue that might result in the League refusing to cooperate with Belle Reve any further. And you can certainly forget about getting any more cooperation from me."

She nods. "I thought as much. I still don't understand why you have such an issue with it. Most of the convicts here are violent thugs -and yes, I'm talking about your friends - and we're giving them a chance to channel their abilities into something useful."

"The problem I have is that the most violent ones will jump at the chance, then get better treatment and earlier release than the ones who are actually reforming. That's what prisons are for, not to serve as black ops recruitment centres for the US intelligence services. And if you don't reform them, then they'll go right out and start offending again."

"We've.. made arrangements. They'll be kept under close observation after their release."

"Closely observing supervillains? Yeah, good luck with that. If it was that easy you wouldn't need superheroes."

"Look, Orange Lantern, this is happening whether you like it or not. But, we could use someone's help wrangling the inmates."

"You want me?"

"We've got a couple of guys lined up to act as officers. Having someone outside the chain of command who they could talk to might help things along. Even our most violent convicts know you're only 'trying to help'." Heck. "Obviously, we'd expect you to maintain secrecy-."

"I won't-."

"We don't care about the Justice League knowing, but there would be.. consequences, if you took the position to release classified information to the general public."

Okay. I exhale. They're going to do this anyway, and unless I'm prepared to drop everything and really campaign… I can't stop it. Keeping tabs on it… There's value there, and if things get really bad I can just blow the whole thing up then and try getting rid of the people involved before they revenge themselves on mine.

"Okay. I'm.. on board. Do you have.. some papers I need to read?"

She pauses for a moment, then shakes her head. "On second thought… No."

"What? But you just.. offered it to me? How can you just-?"

She shrugs. "You didn't buy the DLC."

…

I boggle. "Suicide Squad is DLC!?"

"Uh-huh."

"But the basic game references it about a.. dozen times. There were event triggers and everything!"

"I don't make the rules."

"This is ridiculous! The content's on the disc! A bunch of procedurally generated missions using characters in the main game and one unique scenario, which would be pretty weak even if it was new content."

"You bought the Hellblazer DLC. I can see it on your hard drive."

"Hellblazer was released two years after the main game, added new characters, mechanics and events and had them interact fully with the main game! The resolution I got in Prayer this playthrough came from that DLC, partially because of the fans campaigning for it! It wasn't on the fricking disc I already paid for!"

She raises her eyebrows. "This isn't your first time through and this is news to you?"

"It wouldn't have been in character for my other characters to bother finding out about the Squad. Agh, this is such bullshit! I paid for this disc! Why don't I own it?!"

"You actually paid for a licence to use-."

"Oh, don't even."

"Look, a triple A game like this costs you sixty dollars."

"Forty pounds."

"And you spent how much on the last Hearthstone expansion? You spend more than that for sixty packs." She shrugs. "It wouldn't cost them any more money to give everyone access to all of the cards, but they make you buy them in packs instead. How is that any better?"

"It isn't! I know that's bullshit too! I know they're taking advantage of the sales model that comes from hard copy cards, where there were costs in printing and distributing and a secondary market they didn't directly profit from, but this is not something I'm prepared to put up with." I get up. "Forget it! Forget it. I won't do it. I just won't follow this quest line. All the rewards are crap anyway and I can grind relationship points later on."

"Okay. If you're sure." I nod, then turn away and start towards the door. "I've just got.. one more thing I need to say to you."

"What?"

"You've paid your sixty dollars-"

"Forty pounds."

"-and now you want to play
But all the game's bullshit is getting in the way
Companies don't have to listen to what the fans say
They keep offering you extra content on the first day."

There's a hidden mockery song? Oh that is total-!

She stands up.

"The DLC! The DLC!
You haven't bought the DLC!"

Oh fuck this. I storm out of the office-

"Peasant, get the fuck away from me!"

-to emerge onto a veranda overlooking an entire cell block as the prisoners and guards combine to perform a display of interpretative dance to the song now playing from the prison's speakers.

"'Cause you haven't bought the DLC!"

I try transitioning away, only to find that the function is disabled.

…

I lean back against the wall in frustration. I could be playing Young Avengers right now.

"We already know you like it, so how is it a risk?
To make you buy characters already on the disc?"

Fuck it. At least I can put this on YouTube later.

"Proper bug testing? Why bother with that?
You can download fixes later for our pile of tat!"

"The DLC! The DLC!"

They're still going?

"You haven't bought the DLC!
Peasant, get the fuck away from me!"

Oh… Come on..!

"'Cause you haven't bought the DLC!"

"AAAAA-"

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Sororicide, part 21

26th July 2003
21:32 GMT -8

Even after a month and a half, I'm still not entirely used to it. The strange flashes of heat which run unbidden through my body. The sudden surges of violent impulse that all too often threaten to crowd out my rationality. A couple of times I've come perilously close to trying to find a way just to chuck the whole thing in.

But as some guy on the internet said: how stupid do you have to be to give up a power ring?

My first fumbling attempts to improve the Earth with the universe's most powerful weapon were.. inefficient, at best. It wasn't until Dharma noticed what I was trying to do and started feeding me information that I made any real progress. More than a little blood on my hands now, but: Red Lantern. My current ongoing assignment required that I set up shop here in… Jump City.

And if that isn't the dumbest name for a city I've ever heard…

No, no, not helping. Yes, I… Would like to live in a city with a sensible name. I'd like to have a power ring whose AI responded to my questions a little more intelligently than this one does. But, flying's always fun, helping people is satisfying and -I thrust both hands forwards as I unleash a scintillating beam of red energy at that fucking dropship- occasionally I get to take out my constant frustration on someone truly deserving.

The beam strikes the flying platform thing the aliens are using as their getaway vehicle directly in the centre, gouging through the armour before hitting the primary anti-gravity control system. The red and grey armoured figures look up in shock even as they activate their boot clamps in an attempt to remain upright as the vehicle starts to fall from the sky. One thing I've learned about red rings is that they're shit at anything that doesn't involve wrecking something, but at anything that does? Kind of awesome.

"Friend-?" My vision goes red for an instant and Koriand'r shrinks back slightly in the air. "Acquaintance Red Lantern, what are you doing!?"

"I'm making a neural shock generator." Both aliens cry out in pain as the construct goes to work on their central nervous system, rendering them incapacitated without doing -much- lasting harm. The third alien on the platform, the one being held in some sort of force field bubble thing, smiles savagely at their misfortune before trying to pound her way out with her fists. Emergency anti-gravity should keep them from landing too hard, but… I really want everyone to know exactly why I'm doing this. Red, spike-wreathed clamps manifest around the falling ship, thrusting it towards the ground and then yanking it to a halt.

Koriand'r's eyes and hands glow green as she tries to work out whether she needs to attack me or not. "You will tell me why you have attacked them and you will tell me now!"

I descend towards the ground as the other members of the Teen Titans -actual early to mid teens here, rather than late teens to early twenties like in the comics- form a half circle and ready themselves for combat. Control, control. Reasonable mode on. I lean forwards slightly, my toes nearly touching the ground. "Simple, Miss Koriand'r. I've been flying around like a blue-arse fly all day getting absolutely nowhere and it's made me somewhat cranky."

Mister Logan puts his right hand over his mouth and leans a little towards Mister Stone. "Crankier more like."

"Also, I'm preventing a kidnapping." A tin opener construct slices a hole into the force field around Komand'r and a chain construct pulls her out before releasing her. "Don't go anywhere. I can fly far faster than you." She raises her eyebrows slightly and folds her arms across her chest as I generate heavy manacle constructs for her would-be abductors.

Mister Grayson lowers his staff slightly. "They're not kidnapping Blackfire, they're arresting her."

"Oh, you think they're police officers, do you Mister Grayson?" I stare him down, eyes wide and probably a little manic. "Really? Let's just.. let's just check that, shall we?" I raise my right hand to my right ear. "Ring, give me the non-emergency number for the Jump City Police Department, would you?"

"ERRRRRwrrrrrrrrrrrrrahhHHH."

Helpful as ever, but the phone sounds like it's dialling.

Koriand'r floats around, coming to a stop near to Miss Roth. "Why does he call Robin 'Mister Grayson'? Is it some sort of Earth joke that I do not understand?"

"I do it because I don't like using silly pseudonyms."

Someone answers the phone. "Jump City PD. What can I do for yah?"

"Hello, officer. I was wondering if you could please tell me… How many aliens the Jump City Police Department employs?"

There's a slight pause. "What is this?"

"A simple question, sir. A number of aliens have made their homes on Earth, I was just wondering if-?"

"No, we don't have any aliens on the force! Now stop wasting my time!"

She hangs up, and I lower my ring. "Turns out, they don't! Who'd have thought, hey?"

"They're not local police, they-!"

"Oh, they're FBI, are they? Shall I phone Washington and check?"

"They're from the Grand Centauri Empire. Blackfire stole from them and they're taking her-."

"Absolutely nowhere." I yank one of the kidnappers through the air towards me before releasing the clamps on hirs right arm. "You. Identification."

Ze shakes hirs head slightly before reaching to hirs equipment harness and pulling out a small shield-like medallion. "Here. I am an officer of-!"

I read the inscription on the shield. "Fuck all, from what I can see. My power ring has a universal translator. You're not a police officer at all, you're a bounty hunter. Brotherhood of Zvort, according to that."

"We can't send planetary police halfway across the galaxy! Our warrant is valid-!"

"Yes, in a region of space that's about… Ahh…" I point out in the approximate direction of their homeworld. "About seven thousand light years that way! You are totally beyond your authority! Did you think I didn't have a stellar map?"

"Waaait." Mister Stone tilts his head slightly to the right. "What you sayin'?"

"I'm saying that while you can make arrests thanks to Batman's deal with the local police, and while I can make arrests under the same United Nations Security Council resolution which authorises Lantern Stewart to operate on Earth,-" They probably only meant it to apply to Green Lanterns, but the text doesn't actually specify a colour. "-they have no authority to make arrests here. This, was a kidnapping attempt." I float closer to my prisoner. "The Brotherhood of Zvort are usually quite well regulated. Tell me, did you make any effort at all to secure an extradition warrant? You know, like you're contractually obliged to?"

No response.

"You didn't, did you? What was the discussion like? 'Oh, it's just some primitive place. Might as well just fly in, grab whoever we want and leave again, it's not like anyone there can stop us.'" I float closer to hir. "Well done for picking up the wrong woman, by the way. Do all Tamaraneans look alike to you? Was an identity scan really too much like hard work you lackadaisical fuckwit?"

I pull back slightly. "I'm remanding you both in custody for assault, kidnapping, criminal damage, and such other offences as may be revealed by a full investigation. Your equipment will be impounded to be returned to you either when you are found 'not guilty' or at the conclusion of your term of imprisonment." I subspace the remains of their flying platform before tearing the armour from their bodies. They look a good deal smaller without it. "I will also be forwarding an official complaint to the Grandmaster of the Brotherhood of Zvort, which will with any luck result in disciplinary action being taken against you at the conclusion of your sentence."

"But…" Mister Grayson appears to be a few steps behind events. "What about Blackfire? She stole-."

"Was accused of stealing, Mister Grayson. She has not been convicted. And if their guild ever sorts out an extradition treaty with Earth or with the United States of America, she may in the fullness of time face trial for it. In the mean time-" I turn to Komand'r, eyebrows slightly raised. "-dare I express the hope that you have not committed any crimes during your stay on Earth?"

She affects an expression of total innocence, pressing her right hand to her chest. "Me?" She slowly shakes her head. "Noo."

"Glad to hear it. I've taken the liberty of applying for refugee status on your behalf, based on the same arrangements which gave Miss Koriand'r leave to remain. It should take a few days for the application to be processed. Do you have somewhere to stay at the moment?"

She takes a few steps in my direction. "I was staying at a place." She glances at the Teen Titans. "But my roommates were kind of a drag."

Mister Logan looks shocked. "Kind of a.. drag? But she said I was funny!"

Miss Roth pats him on his left shoulder. "Maybe she didn't mean 'funny, hahah' funny."

"In that case, you're welcome to my spare room for the duration of your time here." I rise into the air, dragging the bounty hunters and their armour along with me. "I'll show you the place once I've dropped these two ne'er-do-wells off at Jump City Prison." I return my attention to the Titans. "If you wish to register a formal complaint about my conduct, travel to Ysmault, request and complete form seven zero one b and then prove your worth by defeating Senior Lantern Kultonius in single combat. Then submit the form as directed." I nod. "Farewell."

Miss Komand'r flies after me, her eyes moving over my armoured body and to her two attackers, still bound in construct chains. "I think this could be the start of something beautiful."

I glance back as the Titans watch us go, Mister Stone looking thoroughly bewildered. "What just happened?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Sororicide, part 22

26th July 2003
22:09 GMT -8

"…not really sure why you did that."

A tiny spike of irritation allows my ring to manipulate the mechanisms of my apartment's lock. As a security measure it doesn't have any externally accessible components.

"I dislike bullies, Miss Komand'r."

The two pillars rotate in response to the lock being deactivated, causing my door to open down the middle. It's designed to be very difficult to force, externally applied pressure just pushing the two parts together more strongly. I don't look back as I stride in, letting the automated security system get a good look at me.

"Recognised, Red Lantern two eight one four. Welcome home."

I stop just ahead of the inner door, hearing Komand'r's faint footfall follow on behind me. "Computer, one guest. Indefinite leave to remain. Name: Komand'r."

"Recognised, Komand'r. Welcome home."

The pillars behind us rotate closed with an audible thump, then clank as the mechanism engages. I had this place refurnished when I started living here by people whose usual clients were supervillains. Perhaps I should have been more annoyed that that's actually something it's possible to make a living at, but they did good work. A moment later the inner blast door slides aside, granting us access to my richly furnished living room. There's quite a lot of red, but perhaps not quite as much as my theme would seem to demand.

I walk slowly through the living area in the direction of my armoury, dumping the alien armour off to one side. Another tiny surge of irritation and my own torso armour unlocks, allowing me to start pulling it off my body. Would have been nice if my ring could have given me some sort of physical tune-up as well as the Lantern-powers, but the best I've been able to get it to do is burn away excess fat. On the other hand, I'm more physically active now than at just about any point in my life, and the ring does appear to improve my endurance and reduce my capacity for boredom while I exercise. I'm no Mister Universe, but there's definitely muscle definition present in a way there didn't used to be. "Make yourself at home. I'm just going to grab some normal clothes."

In a wall-mounted mirror I watch as her face goes contemplative for a moment before appearing to dismiss me as I move out of sight. The armoury door has a palm reader, so I drop the cuirass on the floor for a moment to allow me to pull my left hand free of my gauntlet and then put in on the reader. It flickers into life for a moment, then the reinforced door slides open. This armour was a gift from a guy in New York. Well, I say gift, it was really more of a 'I'll make you armour if you don't kill me' kind of thing. Fucking mob armourers… Anyway, the flat's AI can do maintenance to my armour which my ring certainly can't -and clean it as well- so I usually leave it here instead of in subspace.

I put the gauntlet under my right arm and pick up the cuirass with my left before ambling in. Not a large room, just a few weapons and the armour stand as well as the maintenance armatures. Haven't quite been able to get an Ironman-type system set up, but this is body armour, not true power armour. Gauntlet goes on the bench, then I lift the cuirass with both hands and put it on the stand. Then the left gauntlet and rerebraces follow the right gauntlet and I'm nearly free. I throw the gambeson into the washing basket and pick up a towel to dry myself off. I don't really get hot any longer, but sweating is a normal physiological response to stress and I feel a lot of that most days. Boots come off next and get stored in their own slot, followed by my greaves. I take a moment to do a few stretches before towelling my bare legs and chest and my crotch dry. Oh, that's better. Towel goes into the washing basket and I take a pair of loose cotton trousers off the bench and put them on, followed by a t-shirt printed with the logo of the Death Metal band 'Atrocity'.

Last step… I walk over to the medical scanner and stand on the platform. "Update."

The machine hums for a moment, green lights dancing over me. "No change detected since last scan."

Great. I close my eyes for a moment, listening to the beating of my heart. I know the Corps of which I am a member isn't quite like the one in the comics. No 'rage zombies'-. Well, not exactly. Still, the ring is changing me. It would be nice to be able to monitor it better. Oh well.

I walk out of the armoury, hearing the armatures whir into life as the door closes again. Looking down the short corridor into the living area, I see Komand'r holding her right hand out to one of my trophies, comparing the size and shape of her hand to the size of the shape melted into the bone.

"Do you like it?" She pulls her hand back in to her body as she turns, a little more wary now. "For people who make me really angry, I-" I hold out my right hand, fingers outstretched. "-like to hold them by the head and have the ring burn the flesh off. That little shitter was the leader of a militia which murdered about… Wwwwwhw… Two thousand people? After my employer confirmed the kill they let me keep his skull. The bounty payment paid for this place, actually."

Say what you like about Dharma, he pays well.

"Those guys from earlier?"

I shake my head. "They didn't deserve it." I walk over to the aliens' armour. I'll have to hand this over to… Star Labs? But I can do that tomorrow. First, I burn holes into the chest plates around the transponders and pull them free. Couldn't risk setting these off by putting the armour into subspace.

"What are those?"

"Emergency FTL transponders. If the wearers die, if the armour gets destroyed or they trigger it themselves, a call for help goes out. I'd rather avoid that for the moment." I put them down on an empty shelf.

"What did you mean by 'bullies'?"

I walk into the centre of the room and flop down on one of the settees. "People from more technologically advanced societies who think they can do whatever they like on our world. They had no right to remove someone from this jurisdiction yet they tried anyway because the people whose job it normally is to stop things like that wouldn't have been strong enough to stop them." I tilt my head to the side for a moment. "Not that I have to tell a Tamaranean what that's like."

No visible reaction to that. I suppose I couldn't be sure that this Komand'r would care. She keeps walking around the edge of the room, taking in some of my other kill trophies, each skull with a hand-and-red-lantern-sigil burn on the forehead. "Were these murderers too?"

"Mostly. Murderers, brigands, warlords…"

She nods at the smallest skull. "Children?"

"That little shit had murdered seventeen people, twelve of them tortured to death, by the time I met him. I saw no reason to wait for an arbitrary age limit."

Dharma's little test of my resolution, before he attempted to sic me on Miss Roth. Apparently she's responsible for.. something very bad happening some time in the next couple of years and he wanted me to 'intervene early'. I took the deposit, checked his information and then refused the commission on the grounds that she hadn't done anything. And frankly that it doesn't look like she ever would. He couldn't give me more information -a lot of Shadow Cabinet operatives get pissy about that, but it's not like he knows everything- so he told me to stick around until I change my mind. Can't hurt to keep an eye on her, and it's his money.

"You… Did all this with your power ring..?"

I hold out my right hand, taking a good look at it and noticing the renewed interest in her eyes. It's not the original ring. Lord Atrocitus took that when he took me to Ysmault for my 'induction'. "Red rings are catalysed by anger and hate. Though -because I know this is why you're asking- taking it from me would-."

Pantomime of innocence time. "Oh, no, I wouldn't-."

"Yes, you would." Her face goes back to a somewhat more honest expression. "But it wouldn't work. It's bound to me by blood and magic. Take it off and it would just crumble to dust." I pull my right arm back a little. "Of course, if you want one of your own, there's no real reason why you can't go to Ysmault yourself. I'd be happy to take you."

Her eyes narrow slightly. Curious but cautious. "How would that work? What does 'Lord Atrocitus' want in return?"

"There's a.. three day ritual. Senior Lantern Qull gradually regresses your mind to its most primal, rage-filled state, until you're reduced to a savage, animalistic level. At that point, they throw you naked into the Lake of Blood which surrounds the Red Central Power Battery and Lord Atrocitus himself calls forth your rage with which to forge your ring and personal lantern." I flick my eyebrows up for a moment. "As to what he gets out of it, I'm really not sure. I think.. that he likes giving people filled with righteous anger the strength to fight against their oppressors. But, he hasn't said anything definite to me."

She turns her head away again, looking at an ornate sword I took from a previous target. "Maybe. Maybe not."

I nod, then wait for a moment. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do? Now you're not having to evade those bounty hunters?"

"I've got a few things…"

"I ask, because one of my regular employers has another target for me. I'm planning to go after them in three days' time. I'm not.. hurting for cash myself. I'd happily split the commission with you."

She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. "What kind of split?"

"Half the money for half the work. The job should be well within our combined abilities."

"Hmmm." Appraising look now. She turns to face me, hip tilted slightly to the side and her eyes... Ah. Not a huge surprise. And I think I'd be… Okay with it. No, more than that. I'd like to have someone around to share -she saunters forwards, poses above me for a moment then drops into my lap- this life. Or, hey, just until she gets bored. Frankly, having someone who's a little more on my wavelength-.

Her left arm goes around my shoulder as she leans in slightly, her eyes studying my face as she tries to gauge my reaction. She's a lot stronger than me, but that's not.. a problem, as far as I'm concerned. I raise my eyebrows and give her a small smile. Her grin expands and in an easy motion she twists to straddle my legs, staring down at me from above with both hands on my shoulders.

"Interested in Human males?"

"You're not that different." She leans forwards. "And I do owe you for your help."

I interpose my right hand and press my index and forefingers against her lips. "No. Not like that."

She blinks in confusion. "Like what, Red?"

"Because you find me attractive, because you like me… Because you've got an itch and I'm a convenient penis… That's fine. But never because you owe me. Never for.. obligation's sake. I don't.. own you. I don't want to."

She leans forwards, pushing my fingers out of the way and nuzzling the side of my face as her right hand ah. "I think I can manage that."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
23:47 GMT +9

The great thing about being the focus of a Tentacle Ogre orgy is that there's no need to worry about what you're going to say the morning afterwards. Everyone's clear what they're there for and you're all going to be heading back to your own homes at the end of the evening's festivities.

I look around the shop. "So… How have you been?"

The fact that I don't live anywhere near Aichi meant that the chance of just running into someone I'd met there was minimal, but… This is the Japanese city I know best. And I knew that this shop had a personal shopper service and stayed open late. Seemed like such a good idea at the time.

"I… Haven't been back since you stopped going, if that is what you are asking Mister Grayven."

Hara Takako is the manager here and was one of my more.. ardent admirers, right up until the point she nearly… No, did, cause herself a rather nasty injury on… Me. I healed her with the ring, but the screaming and blood rather put a dampener on the festivities. I did warn her not to try something like that.

"I think you can probably get away without using the 'Mister'. Given…"

"Oh no, that would be quite improper."

I raise my left eyebrow slightly. I once used seven construct tentacles to… Okay, I guess it's.. probably a company directive or something. Don't I.. remember something about the Japanese being big on those?

"Was it..? Did what happened between us drive you away?"

"No, not… For me, it wasn't a lifestyle choice. It was something fun to do in my spare time. I met a woman who wasn't part of that scene and… That was that."

She nods. "Is the young lady her daughter?"

I look over to where a young Japanese woman with blonde hair -bleached rather than natural, but done well- is helping her pick out items of clothing that are to her taste. "No. Lynne… I'm adopting her."

She looks a little surprised. "I realise that I only saw you in one.. role, but it does surprise me that you are the paternal sort."

I nod. "Surprised me a bit."

"You know…" She looks me over. Ooh dear. "They may be busy for some time."

"Could well be."

"There is an.. office…"

"Ahh. I'm afraid that Jade and I are monogamous." She nods disappointedly. "But.. if you like, I can give Guy Gardner your phone number?" I still go to the anger management classes. Lynne's presence makes it doubly important now. "He doesn't look like an Ogre but he can make tentacles just as well as I can."

She looks thoughtful. "Maybe I could ask him to wear a mask."

"I'll.. pass that along. Um." I wiggle my right forefinger in the direction of the personal shopper. "What did she do to get lumbered with us?"

"Miss Amane is a wonderfully vivacious young lady. I was certain that she would be able to help you and whoever it was you were buying for." Ms Hara watches her for a moment. "She only works here part time now. She was scouted by a modelling agency and I imagine that she will leave us entirely once that contract generates enough work to justify it."

"Ah. Then I am honoured that we are considered suitably armigerous to deserve her attentions."

She looks me over again, this time a little less amorously. "Will you be purchasing anything for yourself?"

"Do you stock my size? I mean, I know that I'm not as big as I used to be, but I'm a fair bit bigger than your usual customers."

"Still…" The tone says innocent enquiry. The expression- "Too big, Mister Grayven?" -says something rather different.

"No. You just have to be careful with the fit."

Ms Hara smiles salaciously. "I can imagine. We have a tailoring service, and we can order clothing in to your specifications if you find a style that you like."

"Then…" I nod. "Certainly. It would hardly do for me to let the side down by dressing shabbily when my daughter is so chic."

"Let us see if Miss Amane has finished her first set of selections." Ms Hara leads the way away from the counter and towards the young women's clothing section. Should I pick something for Jade? That would probably be a good idea. Nothing too racy or fetishistic… A dress? Blouse? Oh, I'll ask Miss Amane what she thinks.

There's a small and neatly folded pile of clothing on a cushioned seat near to where Miss Amane and Lynne are going through a rack. "…pierced ears? I think these would look so cute on you." She holds up a couple of surprisingly large earrings in the shape of a fleur-de-lis.

"Oh no, I'm dad-vetoing that. No self mutilation until you're eighteen." Lynne just rolls her eyes -I'm calling that a success- while Miss Amane turns to look at me with genuine nervousness in her eyes. I shake my head. "It wouldn't work, anyway. We heal our injuries too fast. The hole would be gone-" I flap my right hand at my own right ear. "-before they could put a placeholder stud in."

Miss Amane's eyes dart from me to her employer and back again. Then she performs a shallow bow, hands clasped at her waist. "I apologise, Prince Grayven."

Bit melodramatic of her. "That's fine. No way you could have known." Her own ears bear some sort of cross design. Being Japanese she's probably not Christian. Maybe she just likes right angles? I think I heard something about the Japanese liking symmetry? "Lynne? Found anything you like so far?"

"Uh-huh." She looks at the pile. "Is that alright?"

"Of course it is, poppet. Buy what you like."

"Miss Lynne." Ms Hara smiles at her. "Why don't you pick that up and come to the changing rooms with me. Miss Amane, Mister Grayven has expressed an interest in acquiring a new wardrobe himself."

I didn't.. go that far. Oh, the sell-me-the-shop thing. Can't really complain. I'll admit that my non-armour clothing isn't something I've paid a great deal of attention to. On Apokolips it's basically 'body armour or leotard' and my wardrobe wasn't much better organised back on Earth Prime.

"Yes, Madam Hara. Prince Grayven, please come this way?"

"Lynne, I'll be right over here-" I point as Miss Amane leads me towards what I assume is the men's section. "-if you need me." She nods as Ms Hara picks up the clothing and leads her towards the changing rooms. "Lead on, Miss Amane."

I follow her across the shop floor, past the-. Huh. "Isn't men's clothing over there?"

She glances back for a second. "Yes, Prince Tentacle Ogre." Hah! Oh, Japan. "But I am afraid we will need to take your measurements first." She leads me over to a slightly remote part of the shop towards what looks like a tailor's work area.

"What exactly did Ms Hara tell you?"

Miss Amane looks away, and I think I saw a blush. "Madam Hara did not tell me anything. I heard… Rumours. About you. And I saw the news report that you killed the monster Klarion."

"And what do you think about that, Miss Amane?"

"There's nothing wrong with liking sex, even with a.. Tentacle Ogre."

"Hahaha! No, I meant about Klarion."

She walks over to a work bench and picks up a tape measure. "He was evil. Killing him was a righteous deed. Could you please take off your shirt?" I hold my arms out to the side as I send my shirt to subspace. She unwinds part of the tape and walks up to my right arm. "Did.. someone ask you to kill him?" I raise my eyebrows. Not quite sure where she's going with that. "I mean, did someone offer you… Something? You know… This, or that?"

I suppose that the Light did. "I was compensated, but.. I wouldn't have killed an innocent. He had it coming."

She steps behind me to put the tape around my chest. "I.. believe in you, Prince Grayven. Would you do the same thing again?"

"Yes. I mean, I'd prefer it if the legal side was a bit better organised, but some people need killing."

"Okay." The tape is no longer around my chest and I extend my left arm. "And Tentacle Ogres like Japanese girls best, is that right?"

"Hahaha. I'll.. admit to a certain fondness, but, ahh… First, they were all consenting adults." I turn to face her. "And I wasn't offered-." I blink. "What happened to your clothes?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
09:37 GMT -6

A thoroughly dejected looking Amane Misa sits opposite Lynne and I in Olive Ridley's Coffee & Tea Company Café in Rifle, nursing her hot chocolate. I've erected a sound baffle around us as I get the feeling that this isn't a conversation any of us want becoming wider knowledge.

I sigh. "Miss Amane, just because I played the role of a Tentacle Ogre during a sexual role play, that doesn't mean that I actually am one."

"Yes, highness."

"I mean, for goodness sake, you're-" Only about a year younger than Jade, actually. She just.. acts younger. Or maybe Jade acts older? Certainly, Amane has a certain girlish air to her than Jade hasn't had as long as I've known her. Probably the pig tails. "-asking me to trade sex for a hit?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"Who did you even want killed?"

The change is instantaneous. Her hands whiten as the strength of her grip on her mug increases, the muscles of her face tighten, her teeth are bared, her eyes flare with rage. "The man who murdered my parents."

"Oh." Sugar. "Would you.. care to explain to me what happened?"

And the passion's gone, as if that moment drained her. "It was a robbery. He broke in through the back door while we were out at dinner." She's staring at her mug, completely still. "When we came back, we didn't realise that he was in the house until he came into the living room with a kitchen knife. I-I don't know why he killed them, but I was-." Her eyes are watering. "I was right there, and he stabbed them! And they were bleeding and I couldn't do anything. And after he ran away I phoned the ambulance but by the time they got there-." Her voice hitches, her body hunching slightly. "By the time they got there it was too late. They were dead! He killed them!"

"The police?"

Her eyes are running freely, and she absentmindedly dabs them with a napkin. "I told them what happened. The man who did it was arrested three days later. At the trial, his lawyer said that I wasn't a reliable witness."

I lean forwards slightly. "And?"

"He's in prison, but the trial is still going on. Because I was the only witness and there wasn't much physical evidence, the prosecutor said that he isn't sure if the man will be convicted."

"And you want me to kill him. Without a conviction."

"He murdered my parents and the court isn't going to punish him."

"You don't know that. They might well decide that he's guilty." Sinestro, connect to the Mountain's hush tube generator and open a small aperture to the Amane family home. Scan for biological material, hair and skin cells. And access the prosecutor's database to get any other pertinent information. Confirm the accused's guilt.

In progress, Corpsman. Hm, curious. It looks like he wore gloves while carrying out the theft. No finger prints or biological traces there. There is some biological material from him at their home.

"You didn't see the way the jury looked at me when I gave my evidence. You didn't hear what the defence lawyer said to me in court. A-and the newspapers said that I might have made it up. They said… They said that my father might have killed my mother and then himself and seeing it drove me crazy."

Did the police not find it?

Lynne is looking at me expectantly. Does she think I can fix this? Would killing this… Komon Eiji actually bring Miss Amane any peace? If I could see into her soul… I can't ask Lynne to read her mind, that wouldn't be safe and in any case Lynne doesn't know enough to be able to judge things like that. Would a G-Gnome.. or Jean herself? Don't know. Probably not.

They searched diligently and found hairs, but they were unable to prove how they came to be there. The defense said that they could have been blown in from outside.

The jury believed that?

Humans do not shed that many hairs. I can detect his skin cells in situ, but with Human technology that would be next to impossible for the police. I assume that we will be killing this man?

Hm. No, I don't think so.

Murder is murder, Corpsman. Japan has the death penalty. I fail to see any reason for hesitance, now that you are free of the aegis of the Justice League.

That's because you're a surprisingly small minded individual. Now shut up and let me work.

"No. I'm.. sympathetic, but compared to many of the people I've encountered, two murders barely registers. Mister Napier alone has killed-."

"He didn't kill my parents."

"Lots of people's parents die every day. Why should the man who killed yours get special attention?"

"Because it's what he deserves."

I shrug, shaking my head. "Why me?"

"Because-. Because I can't. I just sat there. They fell on the ground and I just sat there. I couldn't move, I couldn't think, I just stared up at him and he laughed at me."

There we are.

"Then, wouldn't it be better for you to be able to kill him yourself?"

She stills again. "I.. can't do that. I'm not a fake Tentacle Ogre with magic powers-."

"No." I tilt my head a little to the right. "But would you like to be?" Her eyes widen. "I ask, because I can make that happen. If it's what you want."

"An.. Ogre?"

"The Ogre thing isn't actually necessary. But if you like, I can give you power. Perhaps… Super speed? Like the Flash? You could pass through the prison walls like they were nothing, run down the halls faster than the cameras could track you… Vibrate his brain to pulp? Strike him repeatedly faster than the eye could see? Or perhaps a bladed weapon? Would you rather slice through his neck and watch his head fly off as his blood spurts out of his neck stump?"

Her eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open slightly. I don't need an orange ring to know how much she wants that. "What… What do you want from me in return?"

"I was serious, when I asked what was special about your parents. You aren't unique in your situation, Miss Amane. Any number of young women feel the same pain that you do, for the same reasons. Does that not seem.. unjust, to you?" She nods, hesitantly. "Then -once your own situation is resolved- I would like your assistance in doing something about it. I would not take up too much of your time. There would be no need for you to abandon your career-."

"You want to make me a superhero?"

I smile. "I want to make you a goddess. I want to set you free of your mortal limitations. I want to give you the power to decide who lives and who dies, and the guidance to use that power responsibly. If you say yes… Then it will be a difficult and violent road, my little death goddess, but this I will promise you. You will never be powerless again."

She's nodding before I've even finished my offer. "Yes. Yes, please, Prince Grayven. I want it. I want it so much. I want to be able to-."

I stand and move to the side into an empty area of the floor and motion to the space in front of me with my right hand. She gets up, not entirely steady on her feet, and stands before me for a moment before kneeling. "Please."

I lean forwards, touching her lightly on the forehead with my right forefinger. Sinestro, Garrick Formula infusion.

The air around us crackles with the signature electrical discharge that signals the Formula taking effect.

Done, Corpsman.

Father Box, Divine Awakening.

Ploong.

And I can feel it. Feel her soul expanding. Feel the idea of speed and motion making itself part of her at the most fundamental levels. It's glorious.

"Rise, Iname, New Goddess of Death." Miss Amane gets to her feet, taking a moment to stare at her right hand and vibrate it to a blur. "Now…" I look around the room, outside of my sound bubble. We've drawn a small crowd, passers by who decided to stop and gawk at the superhero and his coterie. I drop the barrier. "Shall we celebrate our compact in the traditional Japanese manner?"

She nods twice enthusiastically- "Yes, Master." -and then appears to hesitate. "Here? In public?"

"Of course. Where else would you perform karaoke? Bret!" I turn to face the chap a the counter. "This place has a live music licence, right?"

He nods. "Sure does, Mister Grayven."

"Right then." Can't muster that much fear power, but what the heck. Singing's not exactly a high power activity. I turn back to Amane. "I'll go first, you think about what song you want to do." She nods, and I walk towards the rear of the café before turning to take in my impromptu audience. Easy choice. Two yellow construct speakers appear next to me and a construct microphone appears in my right hand.

And then the music starts.

"Like an unsung melodaaaaa-aaaay!
The truth is waiting there for you to find it." I will help you.

I clench my left fist for emphasis, enunciating violently with all the passion this song requires.

"It's not a blight, but a remedaaa-aaaay!
A clear reminder of how it begaaaaan! You will become strong.
Deep inside your memoraaa-aaay!
Turned away as you struggled to find iyat."

I stare directly at Amane.

"You heard the call as you walked awaaaay.
A voice of calm from within the silence."

Then at Lynne.

"And for what seemed an eternity.
You wait and hoping it would call out agaa-aain!
You heard the shadow beckoning.
Then your fears seemed to keep you blinded.
You held your guard as you walked away." Trust me.

Now I'm not looking at anyone, throwing all of my energy into the song.

"When you think aaaaall!
Is forsaken,
Listen to me now. I will guide you.
You need never feel broken agaaaaaain!
Sometimes darkness can show you the liiiiiiiiiiiight!" You will be magnificent!

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Mayday, part 3

Day 6
10:57 GMT -5

It's amazing what you can become accustomed to, really. And how quickly.

Five days ago I committed my first murder. I suppose I could argue it down to manslaughter. My choices after all were -and still are- severely curtailed. But I feel that would be dishonest. I didn't choose to kill, but I did have a free choice of the target. Or I.. could have chosen to die myself. I'm not surprised I wasn't… I'm not brave, certainly not enough to suffer through what I would have had to in order to make that choice. Learning things about yourself isn't always nice.

Four days since I started committing what even a relatively sympathetic jury would have to admit was unarguably murder. I am.. a serial killer. I'm sure that various law enforcement organisations around the world are trying to assemble a profile of me even as I float here in the skies above Detroit. My victim profile probably doesn't make much sense yet. The Society of Shadows doesn't exactly advertise its employees' occupation, and local police most likely have not yet been informed by their country's intelligence agencies exactly who the bodies in the morgue belong to.

And… I'm okay. I'm okay with it. I really am. I'm okay with them being dead so long as I get to live. Obviously, there's the argument that I'm saving lives by killing assassins but in my own head I'm not completely sure it would matter.

Three days since my first suicide.

Less than a day since my most recent. Carbon monoxide really is the way to go. None of that nasty business with needles or slicing your own wrists open and having to watch the blood pour out. Between pulling myself out of the Lazarus Pit and going to sleep with the gas mask on, I get about eighteen hours. The first time it took me half an hour to get my head together, but on the second the fucking ring-.

"GGAHGAAAAAAGHHHHH!"

The slave-animal will address this ring as 'Master'.

Yes Master, I'm.. sorry, Master.

The slave-animal will complete its appointed task within the next half an hour. If it does not, first stage punishment will begin. Comply.

I can taste blood in my mouth. I'm not sure if I've bitten something or if th-. If Master just burst a blood vessel by punishing me. I suppose it doesn't matter. Master will heal me if it looks like my effectiveness is being impeded.

I will comply.

There are some things I'm not allowed to think. Surprisingly few things I'm not allowed to do. Master had no objection to me attempting to cut off my right middle finger, confident that the level of energy channelling it would need to do in order to protect me from myself would be its own punishment. It doesn't object to me reading about local superheroes or supervillains, even though it knows I'm trying to find someone who can help me escape. I'm just… I'm too interesting a test subject. Through me it's learned too many interesting things to casually discard me. I suppose that's.. nice to know, but I dread to think what the Weaponers are learning from what I do.

Why I'm here is simple. I don't have a personal lantern, and I'm told that aside from a handful in the workshops back on Qward there aren't any 'green antithesis personal lanterns' or 'anti-green lanterns' to be had anyway. No, Master is designed to recharge by taking power from a Green Lantern. I was putting it off, but Master's charge is now low enough that it's decided to force the issue.

This is a DC universe, obviously. Nothing here quite tracks with any particular continuity I remember. It looks like it's most similar to the Justice League Animated continuity, with a load of canon DC stuff thrown and other differences as well. Cyborg -Victor Stone- was a founding member of the League here, and he appears to have a sidekick I've never heard of. The Flash's sidekick is Impulse rather than Kid Flash. In fact, the sidekicks appear to go on League missions a lot more than I would have expected.

Not that I've got any grounds for feeling morally superior.

There's some sort of giant robot assisted crime wave going on down there at the moment, but I'm not here to help. I'm going to wait until Lantern Stewart is on his own, attack him and steal as much power as I can before the League turn up to assist him.

Ushh.

"Magnify."

Uuehh. As ever, making a construct feels like I'm undergoing amateur brain surgery. Antithesis rings -or as the Qwardians call them 'slave-rings'- were originally designed to be used on mass cloned slaves with little mental activity bar what was imprinted on them so they wouldn't soil their owners' laboratories. Whenever I use it to make a construct it 'boosts' my mental acuity in the same way it would have boosted theirs. I suppose that their lives were so generally unpleasant that the added discomfort didn't really register, but it does for me.

Master has so far refused to tell me whether it has to do that every time or if it can work like a normal green ring.

On the other hand, there are advantages to having my willpower artificially increased. The increase in mental clarity while it's active is really quite noticeable. Right now I'm tracking the League members as they move from trouble spot to trouble spot. Here, Wonder Woman blocks some sort of particle beam shot from a robot's arm gun with her bracers, defending a crowd of people. There, Superman sends one staggering back with a punch to the head, pushing it away from its objective. Over to the west, Batman directs the sidekicks in attacking a warehouse that was used as part of the criminals' staging area. Lantern Stewart…

He's in the south east. From the way a collection of rough-looking types are tied up with bent steel I'm going to assume that he beat his Human assailants before their robotic support unit arrived. As I watch hatches open in its torso, firing out a volley of missiles in his direction. He creates a construct barrier to block most of them, but whether by intent or by faulty guidance systems three get past him and slam into the America-side tower of the Ambassador Bridge just behind him. They detonate and the entire bridge begins to tilt to one side. Stewart hears the screams slightly before I do and turns to look, but the robot takes advantage of his distraction to shoot him in the back with its arm mounted plasma cannons, sending him careening through the sky with a yelp.

Oh heck. They're going to-.

I shoot forwards, support pillar construct already projecting into the water of Lake St Clair as the other end comes up under the bridge. Careful not to damage it further… Okay, stabilised. Stewart recovers from the attack and spots me, giving me a slight frown before returning his attention to the robot.

The slave-animal will explain itself.

I-It will be easier to lure him in if he thinks I'm a friendly.

Master doesn't say anything further. Guess that means I'm in the clear. The robot fires its plasma cannons again, but Lantern Stewart's able to block them before forming a sniper rifle construct and shooting the cannons directly in the barrels. From the electrical crackling and smoke I'm going to assume that he wrecked them. Another batch of hatches opens, and as the robot lumbers towards him it fires missiles one at a time as a distraction.

Master blinks. What does that-? "Hey, kid. If I hit it full power, can you stop it crushing anything?"

John Stewart's voice. He's talking to m-? Oh. "I can probably do that, sir. Just give me a little notice."

"You're not Rayner." I see him shoot out the missiles and give a little ground as the robot advances. "Did something happen to him?"

"I don't know, sir. I'm not actually a Green Lantern, I just have similar powers."

"Alright then. On three. One. Two." His ring glows brilliantly for a moment. "Three." His beams strike the robot in the head, chest.. and open hatches.

The remaining missiles detonate first, then I see his green beam erupt from its back. Immediately I extend.. ugh, an X-clamp construct around its torso, catching it before it can fall too far. I'll have to lie it down in the road… Anyone there? No? Okay then. Gently does it, the civil engineers are going to be busy enough as it is after this. Right, done.

"Good job. Now hold still while I fix the bridge." His beam goes to work on the tower, pushing broken metal back into place and fixing it good as new. I suppose it only needs to last until people can evacuate… "Alright, that should do it. You can take the support away."

Check for myself… He's right. I drop the construct and fly up to land on the bridge's road surface. Well. Now here comes the.. shitty part. Lantern Stewart floats down through the air to land just in front of me. Unlike the Anti-Green Lantern uniforms I vaguely remember from the comics, I'm wearing normal street clothes. Unless he spots the ring he's got no particular reason to be cautious.

He looks me over. "Are you sure you're not a Green Lantern?"

"Yes sir. I'm afraid that I'm-" I raise my right hand and for a second his eyes widen as he sees the twisted symbol Master bears. "-quite the opposite."

"Bwaaagh!" The dull-green beam strikes him in the chest, causing him to shudder and fall to his knees.

"Recharging."

Master, please let me know when he reaches nine percent charge.

The slave-animal will explain its request.

We'll need to feed on him again. He needs that much to get away safely without being able to pursue us.

Acceptable.

Lantern Stewart's glow has noticeably decreased. Antithesis rings were specifically tailored to shut down Green Lanterns after all, he'll be basically powerless until I stop draining him. He manages to get his head up to stare at me, shock and anger at my betrayal clearly showing on his face.

I look away.

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Mayday, part 23

Day 11
23:57 GMT -4

I look around at the barren rock and parched earth around me. This is it. Ra's al Ghul's last bolthole. Master hasn't wanted to make my job too easy, it hasn't just let me scan the planet for the man. But it has been willing to let me use its god-tier hacking and decryption abilities on every Society of Shadows database I've come across. Oh, and confirm the location from low orbit. There was no obvious reason for a plane to ever deliver supplies out here. They had to more or less drop them out of the back before flying onto their 'official' destination to avoid detection.

Conventional detection.

There's a plane here now. I raise my right hand and blast it through the fuel tanks before walking on. The crane over the side of the canyon gets the same treatment a moment later, the broken and twisted metal falling into the void as the plane explodes behind me. In theory, a person could climb up or down, but that certainly wouldn't be easy.

This is it, then. Once I kill Ra's al Ghul my part of the deal will be complete. Nyssa wants to be in at the death but it won't be any real trouble to pick her up once I'm more or less finished. No sense putting her in the line of fire before that. Anything happening to her would defeat the whole purpose of the exercise.

I should feel relief.

I don't.

I don't feel much of anything, except tiredness.

I walk to the edge of the canyon and step into the air before turning around and slowly descending. Lesa DeOrro. Not sure how that's supposed to be spelt. Sounds Spanish, so it was probably the name given to the place by the Spaniards Ra's led here to slaughter the population and steal all of their worldly goods rather than the people who built it. A man who has the ability to cure any disease in the world and this was where his fortune started. Even if he wasn't sharing the technique, the money he could have made offering to regenerate the occasional king or wealthy merchant… But no. The Pits were for him and him alone and genocide was the only way he would accept making money.

My right index finger glows as beams of dull green energy leap towards the lights hammered into the cliff face. I'm not exactly trying to hide my approach. I'm even -for the first time- wearing the uniform of black, white and dull green. Still, I haven't needed to recharge since that thing in Detroit and I don't particularly want to have to waste power blocking missiles here.

Vision.

Thirty seven people, all armed. Ra's isn't looking all that good. He appears to be in a wheel chair, wizened and frail. Possibly he has a problem with Lazarus Pits? Well, he's hundreds of years old. If the same thing ends up happening to Nyssa and I then I'll have lived far longer than I would have without it. The others… Talia, naturally. A hulking brute I presume to be the current Ubu. And a whole lot of agents of various stripes. With the lights going out the ones on lookout duty have donned night vision goggles and are aiming their rifles in my direction.

I raise my right forefinger again and lines of dull green pierce their chests and bore into their hearts. They barely have time to cry out before the blood pouring out of the smoking hole causes the pressure in their veins to drop with the result that they lose consciousness. I continue heading down, level now with the city's rock pathways. One brief moment to admire the architecture and then I walk softly in the direction of the Demon's lair.

What does come next? Having recently persuaded Master that I do in fact need sleep in order to think clearly I think I'll start lying in. Maybe a day of not killing anyone? Heh. Oh, what have things come to that that sounds so good? I imagine that Master won't be onboard with me not killing anyone, at least not for a prolonged period. It can't be that hard to find people I wouldn't object to killing… Or at least fighting.

I idly wave my hand forwards and disarm the recently planted mines. Another volley of beams strike the security cameras and deny them the ability to see me. Hm. Why am I going this slowly? I could just.. zoom up there..? Ah, that's why. I'm worried that whatever I have to do next will be worse. Another group of guards appear on the roofs surrounding the meeting hall which Ra's is holed up in and they meet the same fate as their comrades. Right, come on. I start striding up the shallow incline towards my objective. There's been some attempt at fortification, but it's nothing I can't lift out of the way.

Two assassins charge out, blades drawn. These I shoot through the heads, sending them tumbling to the floor where they lie still. Perhaps years of fighting Batman has caused them to forget how to fight people who don't mind using lethal force? Inside, the remaining assassins form up in two ranks, rifles at the ready, Ubu, Talia and Ra's just behind them. I form a blade construct and slice in through the chaff, cutting them in half. Ubu goes to snatch up a gun but Ra's lays a hand on his arm to stop him, watching the doorway with a degree of interest.

I walk forwards, arms held loosely at my sides. As I enter the room Talia shrinks back very slightly. Ubu's face tightens. Ra's just looks a little disappointed. "So this is my fate. To die at the hands of a man I've never heard of."

"Yes, basically." I turn to Talia. "You may leave, now."

She draws a pistol and points it squarely at my centre of mass. "I'm not going anywhere without my father."

"I have orders to leave you unharmed, Miss Talia Head. However, everyone else dies."

"Orders?" Ra's manages a weak smile. "Indulge a dying man. Who ordered this? Which of my many enemies finally found someone who could-?"

"Qward."

I stiffen slightly at the voice from behind me. Batman. Why didn't I..?

The continued existence of the slave-animal is permitted as long as it provides data. The execution of these weak warriors provides none.

"Detective. Good of you to come."

"You've been keeping yourself alive using his Lazarus Pits, haven't you?"

I take a few steps to my right, turning as I do so. Yep, that's Batman.

"I wondered who was attacking the Society of Shadows. Once Green Lantern explained how your power ring worked, it was obvious." I nod. "But if you kill them all, how do you intend to stay alive afterwards?"

"Obvious, logical and wrong, Mister Wayne. You lack a vital piece of information. It's like on that-" I snap my right fingers twice. "-Sherlock Holmes update thing, where he deduced a load of stuff about Watson and misses the fact that Bob is his sister not his brother because there's nothing present to suggest it."

He inclines his head slightly. "So what am I missing? You passed up two opportunities to kill Talia before today. Were you planning to force her to make them for you?"

"I would never help you!"

"Guessing." I shake my head. "Master, are any of the others here?"

"You call it 'Master' and you wince whenever you use it. You're not working for the Weaponers voluntarily."

"No shit." Master's giving me nothing… Ah heck, Batman's just a man. If it comes to it I can just hide in an ocean trench until he loses the trail. My eyes blaze dull green as two beams of light shoot from my side and stab my two remaining targets through the chest.

"I die… For the Master."

I turn my head slightly to regard the dying Ubu. "Yes, and you do it voluntarily, which is all the more patheti-." Ra's looks down at the hole in his chest as it oozes closed, then stands up. "Mister J'onzz." I sigh as he returns to his 'Martianish' form. "Should have seen that coming."

"Indeed." Talia backs off as his eyes glow. Telepathic chat with Batman? Master made it clear that it wouldn't let-. I feel a brief sense of disorientation and then Mister J'onzz sags, clutching his head. Qwardian copyright protection in action.

"If he's not here, I'm leaving. I can hunt-." There's a brilliant flash at my feet but I'm already flying backwards, bulldozing through the wall before Batman can follow up. Once I'm clear I pause. No, no reason to hang around. I'm not really on a clock. Nyssa would probably like to spit in his face but I can always throw his corpse into the sun for her. I accelerate upwards-

"HhhhhhhhhAYAH!"

-and frantically lunge sideways as Hawkgirl dives at me with her mace!

"Oh look, the spy." No, the wind's up and she isn't really paying attention to what I'm saying. I'd like to blackmail her into leaving me alone but I don't think it's going to happen. I accelerate away as she comes back around for another pass. Master, you can outfly her, right?

Nothing back. And she's gaining. Fine, scramjet. It takes a second to form but as soon as it does I'm leaving her in my backwash. Right, watch my surroundings. The Flash can't fly, Mister J'onzz is still nursing his head and Wonder Woman isn't fast enough. The only one I've really got to worry about is BWOFF!

I spin out of control for a few seconds before dropping the construct and taking control. Superman floats in the air just in front of me with his arms folded across his 'S'.

"Stand down, Anti-Green Lantern. I don't want to have to-." My kryptonite laser hits him in the chest. "Aagh!" Not enough to seriously injure him, but enough to hurt and to slow him down for long enough for me to get away.

"Lex says 'hi'. Don't follow me, Mister Kent."

Now I have to go and report a failure to Nyssa.

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAAA-"

Bereave, part 1

19th October 2007
10:12 GMT -5

This building has excellent air conditioning.

Whatever their other failures -and there are many- the air conditioning in Vought-American's New York headquarters are a marvel of engineering. And I know bad air conditioning. One of my colleagues at my previous job described what we had there as being a flu simulator: cold in the morning and toasty in the afternoon whatever the actual outside air temperature was. Here, we're just reaching the end of autumn and there's a ve-ry slight breeze percolating through the place and… Is that lavender? I'd make a comment about executive privilege but actually it runs through the whole building.

And after my encounter with Brand I'm in a particularly good position to enjoy it. While I came out somewhat less scathed than I thought I might, they've still dressed me up like a seventeenth century Native American of some sort. Or at least Brand's idea of what a seventeenth century Native American looks like, which is probably nothing like the real thing. Animal skin -probably fake- waistcoat dyed to a pretty near match for the indigo glow of my constructs, shorts made of the same material and mock moccasins. I've got enough bare skin showing that anyone who looks at me is getting an eyeful of the skin paint that appears whenever the ring has a charge.

The butt of my lantern's staff taps gently on the carpeted floor as I make my way towards James Stillwell's office. I'm getting a few looks, but I imagine if you work in Superhuman Development you get a bit used to odd-looking types walking around. Ah, no, that woman's checking me out. I turn my head and give her a warm, friendly smile, prompting her to immediately turn her head away. I rather suspect that she's blushing under her makeup. It's funny; I seem to remember something about indigo rings having some sort of brainwashing effect, but though I have experienced a slight change in my approach to things I certainly haven't experienced any sort of radical disconnect.

I walk into the antechamber of the office and stroll over to Margaret's desk. A woman I don't immediately recognise… Sandra, thank you ring. Is occupying it, and she's still new enough to react with surprise to someone who looks like me hanging around the place. I haven't gotten around to learning the executive assistant hierarchy yet… I'm probably going to need to. Presumably the one hanging around here is fairly low on it? "Good morning, Sandra. I was asked to report to Mister Stillwell once Brand had finished with me?"

"Ah. Right." Her attention goes back to her computer. "I'm afraid that Mister Stillwell is in Washington at the moment…" She looks back up at me and rises to her feet. "Could you wait here for just a moment?"

Calm. "Certainly."

She turns away, walks to the door to the main office and knocks before pushing it open and walking through. Bit odd. Mister Stillwell always seemed to be an extremely precise man. Not like him to leave things up in the air without-.

The door opens and Sandra comes back out. "Ms Bradley will see you now."

"Thank you." I incline my head slightly towards her and smile before heading towards-.

"Um." I stop, raise my eyebrows slightly and give her my full attention. Under the make up, her cheeks colour slightly. "No, it's.. nothing."

"Alright. Let me know if it becomes 'something'." Not a great deal of compassion in places like this. They usually don't know how to cope with it. I expand my smile slightly, then turn away and head on through the door. A woman… Ah, Jessica Bradley. I think she's Mister Stillwell's deputy director or something? I've seen her around a few times but I haven't interacted with her directly. "Ms Bradley. I'm sorry if this is inconvenient..?"

"Not at all." She moves the paper file she was reading -one of several littering the desk- into a position which makes it awkward for me to try peeking at it. "Please, take a seat." And she does this while maintaining eye contact. Good distraction. I already know the contents of my own file, of course. Mostly it consists of Vought-American's attempts to work out how the hell someone with no Compound V in their system can do any of the things I can do. Most of the rest is their attempts to precisely work out what those things are. The remainder is Mister Stillwell's own observations, the most pertinent being 'Indigo Lantern is considerably more intelligent and capable than most superheroes currently in Vought's employ. I advise taking whatever he says seriously'.

"Thank you." The visitor chair is positioned some distance from the desk. It's probably an attempt to make the desk -and its occupant- seem larger than they are, to add a little intimidation to the proceedings. I release my staff just to the right of it and it remains standing upright, casting an indigo light over the area. I then sit, slouching back in the seat and crossing my right ankle over my left leg.

"How was your meeting with Brand?"

"I survived. Lost some-" I raise my arms to the side as if noticing my bare arms for the first time. "-clothing."

"What's your new origin story?"

"Visiting missionary for an alien religion. Have you heard the good news about the Proselyte?"

"That's odd. They usually try to avoid non-Christian religious themes for Caucasians."

"Or make them ridiculously stereotyped. I.. may have had to guide them away from a few things."

A nod. "How did you manage that? They're usually fairly insistent."

"Yes, but they value their 'originality'. Avoiding a dodgy concept was a simple matter of pointing out each time it had been used before, and at whose instruction. They hate the idea of copying someone, so…"

She smiles, then catches herself. "Still, it's a bit… If you're in any way unhappy-."

"Oh, no. This will just be for publicity stuff. I'm meeting a Red River guy later to sort out an actual armoured version to wear if I'm going into combat."

She nods. "I'm.. afraid that James' departure was something of a surprise."

"I'm sure that the Vice President is very grateful for his assistance."

She pauses, then decides to press on anyway. "I know you had a meeting scheduled to discuss your proposals, but I haven't had a chance to properly review them yet."

"Very well. Would you like me to come back later?"

She looks me over, trying to decide how seriously to take me. She's had more than a little experience of… Nearly everyone else in my profession. Still, I doubt that she'd simply ignore something Mister Stillwell told her. "I'll read your written proposal later. But since you're here, why not explain them in your own words. What exactly do you want to do?"

"Alright. Well… It struck me, after I'd got the measure of the place, that Superhuman Development doesn't actually do much development of superhumans. You've got branding and public relations down, Victory Comics make most teams at least slightly profitable… But there are basically no attempts made to actually upskill existing superheroes. I'm painfully aware that most of my peers have no skills beyond brute force and I've seen the casualty figures that approach generates. Even superhumans you have on your radar since birth don't really get any training. There are those pageant things, then if they meet the grade on their own they're assigned to a manager… But not a tutor."

"What did you propose to do about it?"

"My original proposal was to take a youth group and give them various useful forms of tuition. Have a paramedic lecture them on first aid and emergency care, a fireman on firefighting, someone from Red River to lecture them on firearms and.. how to conduct yourself in a fight. Since the conceit would be that this was how all superheroes were trained anyway, they wouldn't be functioning in the field for some time. I thought that the costs could be defrayed by turning it into a reality television series. In the long term of course, the costs required to manage them would be reduced because they wouldn't create as much of a mess in the first place as…"

"Most current superheroes." Ms Bradley give me a wry smile. "I do understand where you're coming from, Mister Lantern, but that concept is something that would require a great deal more study before I could approve it."

"I understand." And I do. I really do. Superheroes are a roller coaster for Vought-American. They make them a great deal of money, but at the same time the slightest thing goes wrong and it can get very messy. Godolkin was the worst, but some of the things the others get up to… They're going to be nervous about any change. "My alternate proposal was to assign me to Superduper." Her eyes widen slightly. "Superduper are a cash… Well, not a cow. A calf? They don't cause any trouble that can't be dealt with by normal insurance, they turn enough of a profit year on year that it's worth keeping them going... But they themselves are going nowhere. What they can achieve is.. basically nothing, due to lack of skills, lack of useful powers-" I don't know who thought 'Ladyfold' was someone it made sense to put on a super team, but they need a slap around the head. "-and their low IQs." I lean forwards slightly, resting my chin on the back of my right hand. "Those are problems I am uniquely well equipped to deal with. It wouldn't cost a significant amount of money and it would let me test out the viability of my ideas concerning training."

"I was half expecting you to ask to transferred to the Seven. I understand you and Homelander hit it off at Herogasm."

I'm not sure exactly why he was flying naked in the middle of a flightpath, but whatever it was he appeared to give up on it once I turned up. Oh, he pretended he was just out for a flight, but I know for a fact that wasn't it. I'm not actually telepathic, but I get the feeling that there's something very wrong with him. More than the usual disregard for the lives of the squishy people. "Homelander notwithstanding, I don't think my profile's really there yet. Maybe in a few years…"

"I have a file on your own behavior at Herogasm. Apparently you spent the whole time playing a children's card game in your room."

"And healing the injured." My staff pulses. "Did you know that some of those sick bastards actually wait outside the medical-."

"I'm more curious as to why."

"For a start, Babylon Five isn't a children's card game. It's very complicated and I usually have trouble finding opponents. I mean, those ladies were there to keep us happy, right?" Whore procurement on a disturbingly epic scale. Dangerous work for them, considering how most superheroes here behave. Nice women for the most part. I fixed Bryony's son's cerebral palsy after it finished. "Wait, you're not planning to use that as an excuse not to pay them-?"

She shakes her head. "I also have a report that says that you broke up a number of people smuggling rings in the aftermath of the event. Without orders."

Whores I don't have a problem with. Their 'managers', on the other hand, I remonstrated with and then passed to the local authorities. "I was told that that sort of thing didn't require specific prior authorisation."

"It's been a while since we've had someone capable of acting on their own initiative in the way that you do." She closes a file and leans forwards. "Superduper.. had an… Experience, with-."

"Malchemical." I sit up, nodding slowly. "I know that winning them over won't be easy, but I'm confident I can make it work. I'm an easy man to like, and I already have an approach planned."

She nods. "Meet with the team. If you think you can make it work, I'll authorize it."

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-AAAGG-"

Bereave, part 7

22nd October 2007
08:52 GMT -5

Alright, let's review what I've got to work with.

Superduper is a dumping ground for retarded and otherwise useless superhumans who somehow make it past Vought-American's screening process. It's nominally led by a baseline Human named Charlotte Miller, who used to work as a special needs teacher before government cutbacks led to her leaving that profession and being employed by Vought. She should be here in a few minutes, having handed her charges over to a former colleague for an hour.

The team consists of:
Aunty Sis, the aforementioned childminder.
Klanker, a shapeshifter with Tourette's Syndrome who transforms into iron objects. He can't control what he actually transforms into each time and the chance of it actually being something useful appears to be somewhat low.
Kid Camo, a protean shapeshifter who can make his epidermis -and whatever he's wearing, something I was very glad to find out- mimic the texture and colour of his surroundings. For about two minutes, whereupon he turns into a puddle of goo for a bit.
And that's about it as far as functional ones go. As for the rest:
Black Hole, who has some sort of semi-controllable portal in his throat.
Stool Shadow, who can sometimes move though solid objects. Using a trigger that is going to be the second thing I fix.
Ladyfold… Yes, technically that's 'superhuman', in the sense that normal women don't produce that much, but it isn't a power I'd wish on anyone. Otherwise she's one of the more normal members of the group.
And Bobby Badoing. His body fat has remarkably elastic properties. He suffers from low self esteem, low IQ and gluttony and is responsible for most of the actual damage the team do to their surroundings.

No real wonder no one wants to try doing anything much with them.

I'm in the reception area of the Mission Health Hospital in Asheville, North Carolina, and if an Indigo Lantern can't convince someone that he's a good guy after healing hundreds of sick people then he isn't worthy of his staff. Still, she's going to be sceptical. Last time Vought sent someone to take over it was Malchemical. I had to hack Vought servers in order to get a full report, and it made for disturbing reading. He started by merely being rude to the group and finished by attempting to rape the female members, only being prevented from doing so by the intervention of a man named William Butcher. Apparently Mister Butcher is part of some sort of anti-Vought CIA team. I've never met him myself. What he was doing there is anyone's guess, but I'm bloody glad he was. I sent him a thank-you note and some flowers at their office before I left New York.

Someone -female and irritated from the sound of it- clears her throat behind me. I turn around and give Ms Miller a warm smile. Ah, excellent, she isn't in costume. I extend my right hand. "Ms Miller, pleased to meet-."

"Can we just skip it?" She glowers at me. Impressive. Usually being near my lantern makes people at least a little amiable. "I don't know what you did to get sent here, and frankly I don't care. Let's just sort out some sort of publicity thing and then you can stay the-. The heck away from my team."

"Alright. Firstly, I'm here because I asked to be." She rolls her eyes. "Perhaps a demonstration of good will?" A small box appears from subspace and floats over to her. "A present for Ms Kalmar."

She sighs, slumping slightly as she reaches out to pluck it from my indigo aura. "Just.. don't call her that. Don't call any of them that. It's just about the only source of self esteem-." She opens the box and her eyes widen. "Why am I even surprised that you'd-!"

"It's a medicine. It should help with her 'problem'."

She pulls the syringe out and takes a closer look. "How?"

"Vought were kind enough to grant me access to everything they have on Compound V. I developed that. It's got a long and complicated chemical name, but I call it 'Purge'. It completely removes every trace of V from a person's system, shutting down whatever exotic abilities they possess. Even turns your poo back to brown. I have more, but it seemed to me that she was the one most likely to benefit from it."

"Is it tested?"

I nod. "Vought has.. people in their custody, people who had worse reactions to the stuff than your friends. Their families sign them over because they can't afford to look after them-."

"And you took advantage."

"I healed them. They get to live normal lives now." I shrug. "Would you rather I left them there?"

She takes a deep breath to steady herself, then closes the box and slips it into her handbag. "Why did you want to meet me here?"

"I wanted a chance to convince you to give me a try before meeting the rest of your team. I fully expect them to react even worse to me than you did." Let's see… Children's ward? I start walking. "Would you please come this way?"

"Alright, I suppose I could… This better not be some kind of set up, though."

"There's a story there. Oh." I take a file out of subspace. "This is my file, everything Vought knows about me and a few of my own observations."

I hear the binder open. "Saul Talbot, huh?"

"Close enough. Mm, what do you think of my costume? Brand went for a sort of sexy, metro Gandalf the Younger thing, but it's a bit of a clash with what the rest of you wear and it's no real effort for me to get it changed."

"I don't like the staff. I don't want them being around weapons."

"I'm.. afraid that.. I'm stuck with the staff. But I can stick it in the corner of the room instead of keeping it on me, if that's any good?"

"I s-. Mind altering?"

Ah, page four. "Yes. People in proximity are nudged to behave more compassionately. The effect appears to be cumulative, gradually reverting to normal after a period of absence. I should point out, however, that I've been more or less constantly exposed for the past seven months. I really don't think that a small compassion nudge is going to do much to the team."

She keeps reading. "Wait, you can really do all these things?"

"Yes. I'm happy to demonstrate later, if you like."

"And you.. asked to be transferred here."

"The alternative appeared to be Team Titanic. Not saying they couldn't do with learning to be a bit more compassionate but I don't think I could help them in any more fundamental way."

"What.. sort of.. 'help'..?"

"I aim to make your team all that they can be. I aim to understand their limitations and remove them if at all possible."

"They're happy how they are."

I glance at her. "Are they? Does that explain why Mister Badoing weighs as much as five normal people? Or why Ms Shadow is covered in bruises? They need help that -with the best will in the world- you can't provide. But I can. If you'll let me."

"Prove it."

"Why do you think we're here?" I look down the corridor. "Ah! Doctor. Are we ready?"

Doctor Reid is on a retainer from Vought to report anything they might be interested in to them before the proper authorities. This is probably going to be the least immoral thing she's done for them.

"Yes, I can take you to the terminal cases. Getting the parents to sign off on a superhero helping was no trouble at all."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"Are you certain this is going to work?"

"Yes, completely. Thoroughly tested, if not exactly FDA approved. You know they don't have authority to regulate superpowers."

She nods, a little reluctantly. "Well, in here we have-."

Timothy Ketz, aged eleven, a really quite aggressive form of leukaemia. He's bald, visibly withered and now he isn't. He breathes in suddenly and sits up in astonishment.

"Next, please."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
10:03 GMT -6

"I don't think.. I understand."

Lynne frowns slightly as we walk along the road out of Rifle in the general direction of Challenger Mountain. Yes, it would have been easier tubing back but -observant chap that I am- I spotted that my new daughter had something she wanted to get off her chest. She waited until we got away from the built up areas. After all, we may be bonding well but we haven't actually spent all that much time together. I don't mind having my decisions challenged -I even put up with Richard- but I imagine that it's more than a little hard for her to bring herself to do so.

"Okay? Ask away. It's my job to explain things to you."

"You gave.. Amane.. superspeed."

"Uh-huh."

"And she's going to kill the man who she says murdered her parents."

"Oh, he did. I opened a hush tube and had Sinestro scan her house for biological material. Skin cells all over the place. Probably scratching his face.. orrrr maybe he sneezed."

"I.. thought.. you were… A superhero."

"Okay, stop." She does, turning to face-.

Oh, no. Not having that. I crouch down. "Lynne. There is nothing wrong with questioning me. Friends.. and family, who are prepared to tell you things you need to hear and don't want to are very valuable things. I am not perfect. And-" I nod my head to the left. "-I'm here to teach you things. I can hardly do that if you're afraid to ask me questions."

I spread out my arms and do my best harmless face. "Hug?" She smiles, stepping up to me and wrapping her arms around my neck, her head pressed against the right side of my chin. This is nice. "Okay." She pulls away a little, her hands resting on my shoulders. "Better?" She nods. "Okay. Whether or not I'm a superhero depends on how you define 'superhero'. Most superheroes don't kill people. You know full well that I do. However, the people I kill are either mindless -like the guards at the SHADE prison that were holding you- or very very bad, like Klarion and Esak. Killing someone is a big deal, and… I know of no reliable way to reverse it. If the job of a superhero is to keep as many people alive as possible, then a simple look suggests that a superhero shouldn't kill. But what if they kill someone who would otherwise go on to murder lots of people?"

"Then.. those people don't die."

"Just so. I'm not quite that utilitarian, usually. But if I am presented with someone who has killed and.. whom I might reasonably expect to kill again… Kill innocent people…" Hm. "Or at least people not guilty of anything very much-."

She nods slowly, her eyes turned to the side as she gets her head around the idea. Probably a bit much moral philosophy for an eleven year old. "Then you've saved them. You've saved more people than you would have by not killing."

"I don't know if the man who killed Amane's parents had killed before. He may have, he may not. But when confronted with the people whose home he was robbing, he stabbed them to death. He stabbed them repeatedly. He did that in preference to threatening them and running. I strongly suspect that, if left in the wild, he would kill again if a similar situation arose. Plus, Japan does have the death penalty for murder, so… Their society has decided that it's the correct way to treat people like that."

"And that's the other part of my justification. When you can act on the sort of scale that we can, you have to decide what sort of world you want to live in. How you would like… No, how you believe things should work. In my case, I'm trying to persuade-."

There's a rush of wind as Amane precipitates out of the air next to us. She's beaming, a not entirely sane glint in her eye. The armour I designed for her borrows from her preferred 'perky goth' style of dress. Decorative, but providing a sensible degree of protection. Though I was never going to make her the high heels which she wanted I compromised and gave the boots a bit more of a slant than the ones I wear have. Balanced over her shoulder and supported by her right hand is an Apokolips-tech scythe capable of cleaving through just about anything I was able to test it on.

There's quite a lot of blood on the blade and splattered across the left side of her face.

I stand. "Your revenge is complete?"

"Yes, Master."

"Very well then. Assuming that there are no pressing demands on your time in Japan, I think now is a good time to show you the Mount-"

Bzzzt.

"-ain." I frown slightly. "Or possibly not."

"What is it, Master?"

She must.. know that the blood's there, right? She isn't reacting to it, blinking or wiping it away. "Doctor Robbins wants something." I raise my right hand to my ear. "Go ahead."

"Something just happened in Philadelphia."

"When you say 'something'..?"

"The nearest phenomenon on record is one of your hush tubes, but apparently it doesn't quite match."

"Hush tubes are hardly the only stealthy sort of portal. When did this happen?"

"Maybe.. three minutes ago?"

I nod. "Right. Got an exact location?"

"Near the Academy of Natural Sciences is the best I can do. There's nothing on local news yet."

"Still worth checking out. Get Jean to put a squad of G-Elves together in case we need to do crowd control, then give me a hush tube."

I see the outline of a hush tube form in the air in front of me. "Way ahead of you, Grayven."

Miss Amane looks at me curiously. "Master?"

"Did I hear someone just call you 'master'? Am I calling at a bad time?"

"I've recruited someone. I'll introduce you when we get back. Let you know what I find. Grayven out." I lower my right hand. "Iname."

Her smile heads right into slasher territory. "Yes, Master?"

"We have a job. I'm afraid that you're going to need to-" I waggle my left hand at the left side of my own face. "-clean up a little. If that's alright?" She makes a tiny frown, then touches the left side of her face with her left fore and middle fingers before pulling them away and staring at the sticky red substance on the end in apparent surprise. Okay then. A wave of yellow and the blood vanishes. "Okay, girls." Another beam and Lynne's armour reappears. "Someone just opened a portal in Philadelphia. We don't know who they are or why they did it. We're going to have a quick look around and see if we can find out what's going on." Miss Amane moves her right hand to the haft of her scythe. I hold up my right hand to stop her. "No, that might not be required. Hang back a little while Lynne and I look around. And.. stow it for now."

"Yes, Master." The scythe vanishes. I built it with a subspace storage system linked to her nascent divine signature. She can pretty much disappear it or summon it to her whenever she wants, and while she can almost certainly get away with walking around central Philadelphia dressed like that the scythe would draw a little too much attention. Hm. Might be worth creating 'low impact' armour suits for myself and Lynne.

"Lynne, stick with me and keep your eyes open. Look for anything out of the ordinary."

"You mean like us?"

"Other than us. Ready?" Miss Amane nods immediately, Lynne a moment later. "Okay then." I hold out my left hand and Lynne takes it in her right. Together, we step through the hush tube and into Philadelphia.

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
11:09 GMT -5

"Alright Lynne, look around, and see if-"

Lynne points. "Her."

I plough on. "-you can work out-"

"Her. It's obviously her."

I smile benevolently down at her. "-which of these people does not belong."

She gives me a moment, just to make sure that I've finished. "Her."

I look over to the young woman she indicated. "And what makes you say that?"

"She's.. trying to walk on all fours."

I nod. "On her fingertips and toes, actually." The young woman in question collapses onto her side again. "But she could just be on drugs."

Lynne shakes her head. "Too clean and healthy. And.. I think her balance is actually okay. She's just trying to do something Humans can't do. Like.. she doesn't really know how Humans move?"

I nod. "Very good. What else?"

"She's speaking a language I don't recognise."

I raise my eyebrows. "I didn't know you spoke languages other than English."

She gives her head a small shake. "I can't, but most languages have the same sort of.. noises? She sounds like some sort of animal."

"There are some pretty odd-sounding languages out there, but okay. Not something I'd have noticed. Anything else?"

"The yellow stripes in her hair. The color's wrong for them to be bleached, and it's too even to be dyed."

"That could be Chimeraism."

She frowns up at me. "What's that?"

"That's where a person's body contains cells with different genetic information. Parts of her scalp could have the bit which says 'blonde' and other parts the bit which says 'red'."

She thinks for a moment and then shakes her head. "I don't think real people have hair that red."

"It's unusual, certainly. And I don't think Human irises come in that shade of turquoise. Anything else?"

"She… Feels… Weird."

"You mean-" I point to my forehead with my right hand. "-telepathically?"

Lynne's eyes widen slightly for a moment. "No! No, I'm not-!"

I reach across to where I'm holding her right hand in my left and pat it. "It's okay. It's okay." She calms down again. "What exactly do you mean?"

"I… Don't know? I can just sort of.. feel her, I guess?"

I nod. "I can too. Soul sense. It's a magic ability, sensing other concentrations of power."

"Is she a witch?"

"Hah! Oh. Maybe. It doesn't feel quite like… You haven't met any other magic users yet, but there's something… Off, about it. Anything else?"

"She's scared. I can tell from how she's looking at things around her, then looking away and trying to pretend they're not there."

"Threat assessment?"

Lynne shakes her head. "She's not a threat. Well… Maybe to herself. We should go talk to her."

I nod. "I agree. Here." A yellow filament connects us as I share my ring's translation function. "That should let you understand her. Let me do most of the talking, but tap me on the hand if you want to join in. Okay?"

Lynne nods her affirmation, then together we walk past the Swann Memorial Fountain towards the young woman lying slightly curled up on her side. She looks perilously close to tears, actually. We come to a stop about three metres away and I release Lynne's hand as I kneel down to speak to her. "Excuse me, Miss? Are you alright?"

Her eyes widen at the sound of my voice. Ah, of course, I'd be the first thing she's heard in her own language since she got here. "Fine! Yep. Totally fine."

"I ask, because you appear to be unfamiliar with bipedal locomotion." I hold out my right hand with a smile. "Can I offer you a hand up?"

She gulps. Odd. Everything around us seems to scare her, but my size and obvious physical differences don't appear to warrant special attention. Just the fact that I'm the bit intruding in her space. "Ah…" Her eyes flick to Lynne for a moment. "Please?"

I shuffle forwards, taking hold of the sides of her torso under her arms and lifting until her feet are dangling just off the ground. "Alright, now hold your feet parallel to the ground…" Her toes point down. "No no, your foot is the flat bit… Lynne, would you mind demonstrating?" Lynne obediently turns sideways, lifting her right foot off the ground and bringing it down again in an exaggerated stomp.

The young lady I'm holding looks at Lynne's foot for a moment, then down at her own as they wiggle slightly. "I don't think I can."

Lynne takes the initiative, coming closer and pushing her feet into the right position. There's a look of disquiet on her face, but she gives me a nervous nod and I gently set her down. Almost immediately she tries to go up onto her toes and collapses into my waiting hands. "No, not like that. I know it feels weird and counterintuitive, but really try to stick with it."

"O-okay." With great care she returns her feet to the parallel position and I lower her to the ground once again, holding onto her to see if her en pointe habit reasserts itself. No, she seems to have gotten herself under control. "Okay. I think I got it."

"Standing still, yes." But I move my hands away as I rise to my own feet. "My name's Grayven, and this is Lynne."

"Graven and Linn, right. Ah, hello!" She smiles with enthusiasm borne of her desire to move beyond what must have been quite an embarrassing first encounter for her. "My name's Sunset Shimmer." She holds out her right fist towards me, fingertips first. "Pleased to meet you."

I bump fists with her. "Locally, that gesture is made with an open hand. Like so." I flatten mine, fingers pointing towards her and blade downwards. "Can you do that?"

A momentary flicker of uncertainty. "Um. I…" Her fist shakes a little, but the fingers don't uncurl. "Aagh!" I grab her again as she nearly falls over. "Why can't I make this stupid body do what I want it to!"

"Alright, calm down, calm down. What morphology are you used to?"

"Ungulate quadruped! How do you.. balance on..?" Her face stills as she realises what she just said. "Um."

"We detected the portal. You rather stood out." I regard her curiously. "The portal itself transformed you?"

"I.. think so. I came through like this, wearing these.. clothes. And those-" She looks over to where what I presume to be her boots lie on the grass. "-foot.. boots."

"And you didn't.. test it beforehand?" She averts her eyes. Ah. "Clothes. You were.. naked on the far side?"

"I wasn't cold enough to need clothes." She frowns, this time with curiosity. "What species are you?"

"I'm.. somewhat unique. Most of the people around here are Humans."

"Taxologically?"

"Animalia-" She nods. "-Chordata Synapsida Mammalia-"

"I worked that out."

"-Primates-"

"You're Monkeys?" She looks at her fists. "I'm a Monkey now?"

"-Haplorhini Hominidae Homo Sapiens Sapiens. And no, not Monkeys. Apes."

"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay." She gestures left with her left fist. "If you can just get me over there, I'll go back through the portal and pretend none of this ever happened."

"Ahhhh."

"What?" She looks straight at me, fear bubbling in her eyes. "'Ahhhh' what?"

"I'm sorry, it's… Already closed. If you.. can't reopen it on your own, you're… Pretty much stuck here."

"No, that can't be right! The book said it stays open for three days!"

"Did you.. check? I mean.. before..?"

This time the deep breath doesn't quite seem to do it as she throws back her head, presses her fists to her cheeks and screams her despair to the heavens!

"Nooooooooooooooooooo!"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
11:21 GMT -5

When I saw that the nearest café was a Sundollar, I nearly tried to lead Miss Shimmer somewhere else. Fortunately for her, Lynne stopped me with a raised eyebrow. Yeah, okay, my contempt for the place isn't entirely rational… It isn't as if I'm ever going to be in a position where I'm going to need to make use of the services their untaxed switched profits aren't paying for, but when something arouses my ire I tend to stay properly ired up.

Lynne took the window seat facing the door and I sat down next to her after helping Miss Shimmer into the seat opposite. She's staring moodily at her coffee, as if trying to drink it with her mind.

"Do you want me to get you a straw?"

"I don't-." She exhales, looking away from it and me to the view through the window. "I can't do anything! I can't even pick things up with these claw-things-."

"They're called 'hands'." Lynne picks up her milkshake. "Like this, see?" Miss Shimmer gives her a dejected look, then taps her right fist fingertips-first into the side of her cup. "Oh."

I raise my left eyebrow. "If you used to have hooves, how did you pick things up? I mean, we could get you a.. sippy cup or something if you used your mouth?"

"I used my horn."

I screw up my eyes. How would that work? "Was it prehensile?"

"No." She scowls at me, trying to work out whether I'm mocking her or not. "My horn was the focus of my magic. Moving things with thaumokinesis is easy." She goes back to staring at her cup. "At least it.. was."

I frown. "Thaumo-."

She rolls her eyes. "It means-."

"I know what it means." I look her over again. The hair.. sort of fits... "This might sound odd, but… Were you a Pony?"

Her eyes widen. "Yes! Are there other Ponies around here? Do you know another way for me to get home?"

"I… Sorry, ah…" I shake my head. "I've heard about a lot of different species, but…"

Lynne looks at me like I've said something weird. Yeah, okay, I'll give her that one. "She's a.. Pony? She doesn't look like a Pony."

"Equus Sapiens Monocerotos. I'm a Unicorn Pony." She makes a face. "I was, anyway. Stupid Monkey-body."

Lynne valiantly tries to take this in. "You were an intelligent Pony, and you came through a portal that turned you into a Human?"

"I didn't know it was going to do that! Now I'm stuck with hand-claws and no magic for Celestia knows how long!"

!!!

"Celestia. That would be the big white pony with the suns on her bum, right?"

"You know her?!"

"Um. Just.. stories, really." Okay, I'm in a Detective Comics universe. I've met Superman. There's nothing inherently more strange about encountering someone from Wilson. "Do.. you know her?"

"I-!" And she deflates again. "I was her student."

!PonyPonyPonyPonyPony!

"Like Twilight Sparkle?"

She frowns. "Who?"

Huh. Divergent timeline, or just an earlier point? Or.. later? Could ask about Princess Luna to establish that? No, she's going to start thinking I know where her home planet is and that I'm just keeping it from her. Um. "I do have some good news, however. As far as I can tell, your magic reserves are still as strong as ever. You just need to learn how to utilise them as a Human."

She holds up her right hand and manages to slightly uncoil her fingers. "With.. these things?"

"Human.. magic.. is more…" I wave my right hand as I try and summarise what I know in a way that would make sense to someone-. Somepony from Equestria. "Like… The world has all sorts of arcane systems in it already, so you're working out how to connect your bits to those bits to tweak them into doing what you want."

Miss Shimmer looks thoughtful. "That sounds a little like how Earth Pony magic works."

Lynne looks lost. "Earth Pony?"

Miss Shimmer nods. "Equestria was settled by three migrating tribes of Ponies. Unicorn Ponies, with their horns-" She moves her fist to indicate her forehead. "-that could focus their magics to do all sort of things, Pegasus Ponies, with their wings-"

Lynne gives her an incredulous look. "Ponies who can fly? Ponies can't fly."

"-and innate magics that reduced their effective weight so they can fly, as well as manipulate weather, and Earth Ponies, whose magics increased their physical strength and endurance as well as giving them simple instinctive floramantic abilities."

"Flora-?"

"They could make plants grow better."

"Oh."

I nod. "And Alicorns, who get all that and more." I reach across the table, pick up her cup in my right hand and hold it up to convenient drinking height. She hesitates for a moment, then dips her head and takes a small sip. "You did research into Earth Pony magic?"

She nods as she swallows. "As much as I could. Canterlot doesn't have farms, but the palace gardeners let me watch them work sometimes. Of course, I.. can't really push my magic out through my hooves anymore." She sighs.

"Why did you even come through the portal like that?"

"I…" She looks away. "Sort of… Fell out. With Princess Celestia." She hesitates again and then turns back to me. "The other side of the portal is a magic mirror. It.. showed me myself as an Alicorn. And, well, that seemed like the best goal for my research.. and Celestia wouldn't tell me anything about how you become an Alicorn. I guess I just thought the mirror could help me… Ascend." Another sigh. "And instead it turned me into a Monkey."

"Ape."

"What's so good about being an Alicorn?" Lynne shrugs. "If you could use magic anyway…"

"Alicorns don't age. If I became an Alicorn I'd have all the time in the universe to learn magic, the magics of all three tribes instead of just Unicorn magic. And having the magic of all three tribes makes their magic much stronger." This time it's a huff. "I'd know more if Celestia had actually helped me."

Lynne looks at me. "So… Like us?"

Miss Shimmer frowns. "Like us what?"

"Grayven can do a thing he calls 'Awakening' where he alters you so you can become much more powerful."

Miss Shimmer looks at me in astonishment. "You can do that?"

"I can do that to Humans. I've never done it to a Pony before. Your metaphysique is probably quite different."

"I'm a Human now."

"Yes, but I assume that you're going to want to go home at some point." Hmm. "Okay, here's what I think we should do. You need a place to stay, people who can understand your language, research materials and, um…" I nod at her right fist. "Physical therapy."

She looks at her right fist too. "Ye-eah."

"If you want to sign on with me, I can arrange that."

She looks a little suspicious. "You'll let me study you?"

"Hah. I am a fascinating subject. And I can probably find you a few other subjects as well. Iname?"

A puff of air and Miss Amane is sitting next to Miss Shimmer, who looks around in shock. "Ah! How did you-! Teleportation? No, that wouldn't-."

Miss Amane smiles beatifically. "Master gave me the power to move at super speed."

Miss Shimmer starts to smile. "Oh, I'm going to study the hay out of this."

 

[Mr Zoat]

"-GGGGG-"

Defector, part 5

7th August 2010
08:21 GMT -5

Even after being.. 'accepted' by the Syndicate, I can't help but feel a little… No, let's be honest here, more than a little nervous about being called into Ultraman's office. Okay, so my status as a Made Man and Ultraman's appreciation of my work so far as team supervisor -not caretaker, Jackie- means that I can come in from the street, walk up to the lift and press the button for the penthouse without anyone stopping me, but… Some of the things I've learned about his personal history from Syndicate files were.. deeply unsettling to me. And that's not even starting on the police and Justice Underground files I've been able to lay my hands on.

The lift chimes, the doors open and I walk out into the hallway beyond. I think a few of the pictures have been changed since last time I was here. Does that mean that someone fell out of favour, or do they just get rotated on a regular basis? Ah, I see. The new ones all have Jon in them. Ultraman may be a violent criminal but he's really gone all out to make Jon feel like one of the family.

Kin-family, not Syndicate Family. Though that too.

I come to a halt just outside the door to Ultraman's office. As far as I've been able to tell, Ultraman doesn't have a secretary in the conventional sense. After all, who could he trust who isn't already doing something more important? Instead, he remembers appointments himself and sets approximate times for things. I was told to be here 'early morning, after breakfast' and that was when I realised that I had no idea what he considers to be breakfast time. Do I knock? Oooor should I find someone to ask-?

"Get in here, Blue."

Super hearing does make things easier. I take hold of the handle, turn it and push the door open. Ultraman is standing on the balcony, looking out over the city he might reasonably claim to own. His pose certainly implies it if his accountant can't prove it. His cape flutters majestically in the breeze. Or… Is there an antiheroic version of majestic? He certainly looks inspiring, if it's fear and obedience that you're looking to inspire. An icon for a harder, more realistic age.

"Reporting as ordered, Ultraman. What can I do for you?"

Jon told me that Ultraman actually gets a kick out of me going 'full English' when I speak to him, so I've been brushing up on my diction. Never hurts to put your boss in a positive frame of mind, especially when your boss is a serial killer.

Ultraman remains scanning the skyline for a moment. Are we actually expecting trouble, I wonder? The country is.. stable, at the moment. With the Justice Underground thoroughly underground, Lex Luthor in hiding and President Wilson nobbled there shouldn't be anyone who could seriously threaten this building… Ultraman turns away and strides back in through the door, waving a hand to trigger the closing mechanism behind him as he walks around his desk to sit down. He looks at me for a moment, then waves his right hand in the direction of the free chair on this side. "Take a load off."

"Thank you, Ultraman." I walk over and sit down. "Jon not joining us?"

"Nah. This is…" He looks a little pensive. "This ain't about the team. I wanna.. talk t'you about this thing Owlman came up with."

"I am at your disposal. What.. sort of thing?"

"He wants to build a bomb. A real big one."

I frown slightly and shake my head. "City killer size?"

"Nah. This one would be big enough t'kill a whole planet."

"Is the Syndicate going interstellar?"

Ultraman shakes his head, and I realise that he's not looking at me. Humans instinctively avoid looking at face-shaped objects when thinking hard about something and it looks like it's the same for Kryptonians. "He wants it as leverage. Way he sees it, we get a bomb that powerful then we can threaten the world's governments into surrender."

The fuck? "Okay?"

"Now, me? I prefer to do things subtle. Less trouble, less chance fer things to go wrong. But, he's got a point. Blackmailing Wilson turned out t'be a whole lot easier than stayin' under the radar." His eyes come back to me. "Somethin' this big, I wanna be sure in my own mind before I say 'yes' or 'no'. You're a smart guy and you're not… You don't think like the rest of us long time Syndicate types. So. " He leans back in his chair, hands resting on his abdomen. "What'd'ya think?"

"My… Instinctive response is that it's a bad idea."

He nods. "Thought ya might say that." He motions with his right hand. "Convince me."

"One of the first things I learned from Al Scott.. is that you don't make a threat you're not prepared to carry out. Because there's always a chance someone will call your bluff, then you end up looking weak."

"What makes you think Owlman wouldn't push the button?"

"Oh, no. I know he would. Superwoman too. But that's because they're mental." A slight smile. "Okay… You're blowing up the Earth. Where are you when this is happening?"

He shrugs. "The moon base."

"Alright. Let's assume that no rubble from the Earth hits the moon and destroys either the whole moon or just the base. And that the bomb doesn't destroy the moon anyway. And let's assume that the majority of the Earth's mass stays in roughly the same place so the moon's orbit isn't adversely affected. What are you planning to eat that day?"

He frowns. "What's that got to do with anythin'?"

"The Syndicate's moon base has food stores for about a month. With the Earth gone there's no way to replenish them. There's a water recycling system so you could probably stretch it out to two months if you had to, but then you'd start starving. And that's assuming you're just talking about evacuating the Management; if you bring Jon and Superwoman brings the other Supers and.. so on, it would be a fraction of that."

Ultraman nods slowly. "Okay. I grew up on a farm…"

"Farming on the moon would be.. difficult, without a lot of preparations. Assuming you install vertical farms and don't mind a monotonous diet it's doable, but you're talking about at least a year planning, testing and building and a lot of money. And again, that's just for management and immediate family. What do you think would happen the moment the rest of the Syndicate -Made Men or not- found out you were planning to blow up the planet they were standing on and not evacuating them?"

This nod is a bit more definite. "They'd do everything they could t' stop us."

"Right. So… The only way you could do it would be to take the entire organisation with you. That takes you from seven to…" I shake my head. "I don't even know how many. Thousands at least. And what about their families? Children, spouses, parents… They're not all going to be Syndicate members. You'd be looking at setting up a city on the moon for millions of people. And defending it, because when the world's governments work out what you're doing you better believe they're going to pull out all of the stops to stop you. I.. don't even know how to work out how much that would cost. We could probably do it, but it would take every spare penny the Syndicate had and massive amounts of manpower. And that's not even getting on to the really serious problem."

He raises his eyebrows slightly. "More serious than starvin' t' death?"

I nod. "Oh yes. The question is: what do you do the next day? The Earth's gone and you don't have faster than light spacecraft. The only place you can go is the moon base. You-" I gesture to him with both hands. "-are now Governor General of all that remains of the Human species. Given all the people you'd have to evacuate to get that far the gene pool probably isn't a problem, but do you have teachers? Doctors? All of the people with the specialist skills needed to keep a civilisation going? Are they going to be on the moon city permanently? Because people like the people who make up the majority of the Syndicate won't react well to being cooped up. What's the next move? Where are you going to go?"

He looks away for a moment. "Mars, maybe?"

"I don't imagine that Mister J'arkus' people would be particularly happy to see us. You could set up a mining industry, build ships and colonise the system, but that's an even bigger undertaking and you'd be looking at everyone living in artificial habitats… Terraforming… No work's been done on actually doing that. There are.. theoretical models, but none of them would be quick if they worked at all. You'd be looking at generations, at best."

"Put it that way, the whole thing sounds like a dumb idea."

"I'm a little surprised he suggested it. I mean-" Ugh. "-a city-killer is a viable threat, especially if it doesn't give off radiation or other poisons. If worldwide destruction is what you're looking for, a biological weapon would serve far better than an explosive. Far easier to hide an immunisation program than making a massive city in space. But even so…" I shake my head. "The whole thing sounds like a massive White Elephant that would make more problems than it would solve."

"Bribing governments is expensive. Maybe I think we could convince them we're serious without needin' to use the bomb."

"Bit of a risk, but okay. Ultraman, you run the Syndicate as a business. You know that the threat of violence achieves more than actual violence. That a little violence nudges things along while a lot of violence just riles them up. The government's used to taking your money. That's.. part of the system they're used to. Giving it to them gets you more money, that's why you do it. No one on their end is looking to rock the boat. What does having a planet killer bomb get you that you don't have now?"

"Whole lotta nothin'." He nods, then stands. My signal to leave. "Thanks, Blue. You've given me a lotta stuff t' think about."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
21:31 GMT

"-GGGHHHHHHH!" I plummet from the sky, frantically grabbing at the robotic insect thing on my chest. I hurl it away about half a second before I hit the snow just outside the Amundsen-Scott South Pole Station. Boowf! Construct armour holds out, but I get a rather confused few seconds as black sky and orange snow fly past.

Uuuuuuuuuuugh.

Ring. The fuck.

"Lantern and ring ceased to exist for approximately-."

"Oh, don't you give me that." I let the construct armour fade away, then push myself into an upright position. Environmental shield, don't fail me now. "I did not cease to exist. I formed memories. I was-." Blue.. me. He tried to persuade Ultraman not to build the bomb. And… That was The Boys. As an Indigo. He.. didn't remember reading The Boys. Red was Teen Titans and he didn't remember that either.

I move to a kneeling position, staring out across the Antarctic wilderness. But… They each remembered DC in general, but not the place they ended up. I…

Oh gods.

I don't remember this, and… It didn't occur to any of them to think about it. Should I..? Did I..? Did I once watch or read some sort of updated Teen Titans thing that I can't remember? I… I assumed that I was from something like comic Earth Prime, the.. boring one. So… Did each of them come from different Earth Primes, or… Are we all versions of the same person? Is-? Do we have some original, sitting at home in Hampden Park, still… Going to work like a normal person?

Urm..?

Ambush Bug had fourth wall awareness, didn't he? And teleportation using… Bugs. Shitringwhere'ditgo?!

I haul myself to my feet as the ring highlights an area of snow. Okay, um, don't think touching that is a good idea. I'll just get-.

"Orange Lantern!" I look around as Tula runs across the snow towards me. "Tula to team, Orange Lantern has reappeared."

"Orange Lantern, report. What happened?"

"Not.. completely sure, Aqualad. Ambush Bug tagged me with something that looked like a mechanical insect. Next thing I knew I was living parallel universe versions of my own life. Ah, I'm not hurt, but I am still a bit weirded out about the whole thing."

Tula gets close enough to give me a quick visual inspection. "He is alright."

"Doctor Schwab disappeared immediately after attacking you. The interior of the dome returned to its pre-beach state and the staff are uninjured."

"Right." I turn in the direction of the main building. "The bug thing he used to.. displace me is still here. It appears to be inactive."

"Bring it with you. We are in the main building-."

"Sorry, Aqualad, I'm a bit nervous about touching it again."

Tula gestures, her tattoos glowing. The ice immediately around the insect melts, rising up into a short pillar with the insect buoyed to near the top. Ah, I know that spell! It's the same supercharged surface tension thing Kaldur's water-bearers do, only she can direct it without artificial aids. "I have it. We will be with you shortly."

We both start trudging in the direction of the Station. Rings, remaining power?

Sixteen percent remaining.

Ugh.

"What was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"The alternate universes. Other versions of your life? I have been wondering what it would be like since our fight at the LexCorp building. What would have happened if their version of Kaldur hadn't eaten her."

"I don't think he said that he'd eaten her, just that he'd eaten their version of Garth. For all we know she's alive and well."

Tula nods. "Did you see the Blue Lantern again?"

"See? Sort of… I… Experienced a few hours of his life from his perspective. As if I lived it myself, thinking his thoughts. Remembering his memories. He… Heh." I look down for a moment. "He actually got strong armed into joining the Syndicate after he tried to stop a mugging without realising that he was in a country more or less run by supervillains. The people he fought were Made Men…"

"That's terrible. Why didn't he just ask to stay here?"

"The bit I saw… It was months before they came here. At the time he was just trying to make the best of a bad situation." I sigh. "I'd like to think he was telling us the truth, but I don't have hard evidence either way."

"What else did you see?"

"A version of me with a red power ring. Red rings-."

"Are powered by anger and hate."

I nod. "He couldn't use it to build things like I do, so he'd settled for… Making a list of the worst people in the world and killing them. It's.. logical. It's probably the most efficient way to benefit the world if all you can do is kill things. I did… One of the visions of my desires I confronted when I was trying to separate myself from the Ophidian was of me-. This me, doing that."

"Did you.. see him kill anyone?"

I shake my head. "No, I wasn't… In his head long enough." I get a sudden flash of what having sex with Komand'r was like.

My goodness me.

Tamaran 16… What with the destruction of their industrial infrastructure by the Citadel and the siege-like conditions they live in now Tamaraneans are never seen outside of the Vega Systems here. They certainly can't fly at faster than light speeds under their own power.

"The second one was using a Qwardian power ring rip off. He.. killed a lot of people, but… He was acting under the threat of torture and death himself, and they were all murderers." One of Jordan's old mission reports mentioned antithesis rings, but there wasn't anything on the database on John's ring. Classified, maybe? I should probably ask one of them about it, because if our version of Qward is actively gathering information in that way that's something the Greenies need to get on top of.

"And then there was an Indigo Lantern on an Earth where superheroes were super-violent celebrities who hardly ever did anything heroic. They mostly just did publicity work for a psychopathic corporation, which covered up all their misdeeds in order to protect their revenue stream."

"Weren't any of them anywhere nice?"

Um… "No. Not really. I suppose if you give a 'me' a power ring we all just feel obliged to actually use it. Might have been interesting to get the perspective of a businessman Lantern or aaaa… Pure uplift Lantern or something? I don't really know what the selection criteria were. Any background on Schwab?"

"His co-workers say he was just a mild mannered climatologist. He volunteered to go out and have a look at the crash site in case it was a plane and there were any survivors."

"On his own?"

She shrugs. "He was already outside. He was just supposed to take a quick look and then radio back. The next thing they knew, he was dressed in a green costume and they were on a Hawaiian beach. An actual Hawaiian beach. We checked, and a section of the Hawaiian coastline got covered in snow and ice while he was doing it."

"So he swapped them around rather than creating it whole cloth." I nod. "Okay, that's useful to know. What happened to-?"

Just ahead of us the door to the Station opens and Rob steps out. "Mate? You got enough power to get us back?"

"Just.. about? Assuming there are no other upsets? Why?"

"Great granddad gets cranky if I'm late, that's all."

"Well… Ambush bug isn't here and we've got the pod. We'll have to see what Kaldur and Icon think, but I can't see any reason to stay. We'll probably be heading back in a few minutes."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
16:48 GMT -5

"Orange Lantern. I have been meaning to ask you a question."

Mister Freeman is watching me thoughtfully as I look away from where the Atlanteans are manoeuvring the alien pod onto a STAR Labs flatbed lorry with gelatinous water pseudopods. Not much longer and we can all go home. I. Have. No idea what I'm going to put in my report about my experiences. "Sir?"

"Doctor Schwab accused you of being an 'SI'. I have been trying to determine what he meant by that, and I have been unable to do so. Does it mean anything to you?"

Well… Yes… "The use of the phrase which I am most familiar with… It would mean 'self insert'." He frowns slightly as he tries to work out what that means. "It's a term used in fiction to… Some authors create lead characters which are essentially them. Maybe… How they would ideally like to be… Or… Covering up their worst characteristics… The example that immediately comes to mind in published fiction is the character Jack Reacher being an idealised version of the author Lee Childs. But, um, any.. author is bound to put some aspects of their character and experiences into what they're writing…"

Mister Freeman stands there quietly for a moment. "Ambush Bug believes you to be a fictional character?"

No, Leonardo, we don't need to go any deeper. This is already far far too deep.

"He also said 'canon for the canon god, scribes for the scribe throne'. That was a clear reference to the fictional battlecry of the followers of the fictional chaos god Khorne: 'Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne'."

"I am not familiar with-."

"Games Workshop. Their Warhammer setting. Khorne is chaos god of martial strife and bloodletting. Using it implies that I was literally driving him berserk. And.. possibly that he would be rewarded by a deity for killing me."

Mister Freeman nods. "A somewhat unusual motive."

"For conventional crime, certainly. For supervillains?"

"Most of the criminals I have fought to apprehend have been essentially mundane. Those who were not at least had mundane motives. Perhaps you would be best advised to speak with Batman." There's a slight hesitation. "Unless your empathic vision revealed more information about his motive."

I shake my head. "Couldn't see a thing. Probably.. the same as whatever was blocking my ring scans."

"Do you think his motivation is religious?"

"What, that he's a literal Khorne-worshipper? I think it's unlikely."

"Then I remain puzzled by his use of the word 'canon'. What body of texts does he believe that you are causing the world to deviate from?"

DC canon, presumably. Reed Richards -or whoever his opposition counterpart is- may be useless, but I'm not. Does Ambush Bug find acting outside the normal superheroic tropes offensive? Of course, there's a.. worse explanation. Before I came here, I was… I had only just started reading Hiver's stuff on Spacebattles. I'd just finished my Imperial Guard Tank Company and had ordered the bitz I needed to assess the feasibility of making a mega armoured Boar using a Juggernaut of Khorne and a Fantasy Boar's head. I wasn't really.. getting anywhere, and…

The alternative project…

I shudder. No. No. That sort of thing doesn't happen. And even if it did, I wouldn't know about it. It's like Descartes' Demon, there's no evidence for it. And… Yes, the other characters in settings with 4th wall breakers tend to just assume that they're insane when they are in fact right, and… That's pretty much what I'm trying to do here... No, it's stupid. It doesn't matter if I am fictional. This is the world I experience, that I live in. The people I have emotional attachments to. I can't just abandon that because someone -who probably is just a madman- shouts stuff at me. Head down, walk on.

It's that, or I try hunting down Alan Moore or Grant Morrison, and I'm just not ready for that.

My right hand goes to my forehead as my head dips slightly. "It doesn't have to have a religious meaning. It can just refer to any fictional setting. His use of the word 'canon' implies that he considers the rest of the world 'correct' in accordance with how the fictional universe in which the story takes place should be. As such, I believe it is possible that he thinks that we are all fictional characters, but that I'm some sort of Mary Sue author's pet. And that the story can't be good until I'm not in it any more."

"Then what would be canon?"

"I.. do come from a parallel universe." I look around as the others board, Roy returning to the pilot's station. "Maybe he… Maybe the suit makes him aware of that? So… To fix things he'd have to send me back to the universe I came from."

Rob looks around as we rise into the air. "Who's sending what back?"

"Camouflage active." Roy keeps his attention focused on his flying. "Orange Lantern, whenever you're ready."

"Orange Lantern hypothesized that Doctor Schwab is aware that he is not of our universe, and that that is what led to his attack."

I wave my right hand. "Basically just a guess. Transitioning back to Happy Harbour in three, two, one." The view through the front window flickers and is replaced with the Rhode Island coast.

"Oh. You.. going back to your Earth?"

"Not if I can help it. And all he really did was punch me." Ahead of us the hangar doors slide open. "I mean, he's not Klarion or anyt-."

There's a thump as something-. Several somethings land on the bioship, and-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

-what look like cannons are fired in our general direction from the landing area. No, all directions, they still can't see us so they're using grapeshot. The cannons are manned by… Actual.. pirates. The things that landed on the Bio-Ship areohshit! I instruct the ship to open a hole in the roof as one of the robots finds enough purchase to bring its arm-mounted energy weapon to bear! My orange bolt hits it in the chest, knocking it free and sending it sailing across the hangar, the brilliant golden beam from its arm narrowly missing the hull! A second later Kaldur's water-bearers shoot up and strike the second and third, knocking them off as well. A quick scan of the hangar lake shows a total of twenty six in the water and heading for dry land.

"Avast, Young Justice!" Doctor Schwab is now dressed like a pirate, loose cotton shirt, baggy trousers and tricorn hat over his green union suit. The other twenty six pirates are either working to reload their cannons or trying to aim at us with their muskets. "You see! This is how it's supposed to go! Lunatics in crazy costumes throwing down for no adequately explained reason!"

BOOM! BOOMBOOM!

Roy glances at Kaldur. "Aqualad?"

"Use the ship's cannons. Destroy their artillery."

"Right." The guns deploy and there's a harsh buzzing noise as the beams cut cleanly through the cast iron of the cannons, pirates scrambling to get away in case it sets the powder off.

"Orange Lantern, can you get to your personal lantern?"

"Probably."

"Speedy, use the ship to knock them into the water, then hold back to fire on any further robots they may have in reserve. The rest of us will deal with the pirates while Orange Lantern recharges."

Roy throws the bio-ship into a tight turn and I recreate the hole in the roof before surging out. I see puffs as the pirates fire their muskets but those aren't any threat to my environmental shield.

Doctor Schwab looks quite put out. "Knew I shoulda brought cavemen and astronauts. Now where did the ship g-?"

Pirates go flying as the Bio-Ship ploughs into them. I see Doctor Schwab himself leap clear just before it reaches him and then vanish. Right, they've got this. I transition to my room and yank open the door, thrusting my hands forwards. "Recharge." My lantern appears from subspace and the twin beams of orange light-.

"Got-cha."

I feel a slight pressure on my back as Doctor Schwab presses a new insect thing to my back.

"Let's try something a little different this time."

"Why are you doing-?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

Avatar: Legend of Azula, part 1

First Year
Reign of Fire Lord Zuko
Imperial Palace
Capital City
Fire Nation

Mid afternoon

I imagine that I cut a rather strange figure here. My clothing -robes of orange and grey- fit the local formal dress code… Well, more or less. Even my bright orange irises don't warrant more than a curious frown from the courtiers and officials my escort and I walk past. I haven't seen anyone else with that particular distinction, but I have seen gold and amber coloured irises so presumably mine don't stand out quite as much as they would in.. other climes. I'm tall, but not shockingly tall. My face on the other hand appears to be giving them a little difficulty. The skin of most of the local nobility isn't much different in tone to mine, but their facial features are far more Asian than my own Caucasian visage. And from what I've seen no other nation on this world shares my combination of features. The people of the Water Tribes have a similar structure but far darker skin. Being the most populous nation, the people of the Earth Kingdom vary in appearance, but those I saw during my brief visit favoured oriental features as well.

Hm. Perhaps they think I'm a colonial? That would be amusing.

"Hey." One of my escorts, a young woman who was also part of the group which took me into custody, frowns thoughtfully at me. "How did you do that?"

I bow slightly as I walk. "Do what, ladyship?"

"Keep moving like that."

Ah. I was wondering if she'd ask. "I've walked from a very young age, ladyship. At this point it's second nature. In fact, my mother told me that I never learned to crawl."

"No, I mean-." She looks astonished for a moment. "Wait, really?"

"So she said, ladyship. I don't remember much about the period myself. But I'm not about to call my mother a liar."

She blinks a couple of times, then shakes her head. "I hit your pressure points. You shouldn't have been able to stand up at all."

"Ah, that." I nod. "Yes, I see how that might have been a surprise."

She looks at me expectantly, then pouts slightly when I don't answer. "Are you a wizard?"

"Oh, no, ladyship."

"Pleeeeease tell me!"

I regard her for a moment, then make a show of looking left and right before returning my attention to her, apparently failing to detect the six other guards in my escort. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Uh-huh."

I reach up to my coat and turn up the edge slightly. Revealing the fine mithril chain mail beneath. She looks at it with fascination for about a second, then sags, looking at me like I spoiled her fun. She wouldn't recognise the metal, but the implication is clear.

I shrug apologetically. "These are dangerous times, ladyship. I spend a lot of time travelling. I'm afraid that you didn't hit me anything like hard enough to paralyse me through my.. robes, though I will have a nasty bruise later."

"That's boring. I thought you did it with monk-wizard magic."

Another bow. "I apologise, ladyship."

"You're probably going to tell me you didn't get into Azula's prison with magic, either." She holds the pout, but doesn't hide the eagerness in her eyes for an answer.

The guards at the front of my escort step aside as we reach an ornate door, and the leader of the group steps forward and knocks quietly on the door. A moment later it opens a crack and he has a whispered discussion with the person on the far side. "I wasn't planning on telling you that, ladyship."

She nods, her smile restored. Then she hesitates, pointing at me with her right forefinger. "Heey. That isn't the same as saying 'no'."

The doors ahead of us are opened and one of the guards behind me gives me a shove to get me moving. "You're right, ladyship. It isn't. Excuse me."

The room which I'm being led into appears to be an office of some sort. From what I've gathered of local politics, Fire Lord Zuko took part in overthrowing his father and sister and then rather had to hit the ground running after his uncle -his closest advisor and confidant- moved to the Earth Kingdom capital. At this point things have calmed down somewhat, but from the look of… Huh. His bodyguard appear to be some kind of warrior-geisha. Curious.

The Fire Lord himself is a serious, athletic looking youth. The stress of office doesn't appear to have quite gotten to him yet, other than providing a small measure of momentary frustration. This is after all a time of peace and disarmament, the other nations of the world more than content to give him the time and space to get things under control. His robes are not quite so ostentatious as those I've seen in some of the portraits but I have no doubt that they cost more than most peasants would earn in a year. His attention remains fixed on the scroll before him as I'm led to into the centre of the space in the centre of the room. A basic intimidation technique, used to reinforce the idea in the petitioner's mind that they are unimportant, insignificant and generally unworthy of the time of the person they have been led before.

I clasp my hands at my chest and perform the medium bow which my knowledge of local courtly manners suggests is correct for a sage before the Fire Lord. And then I wait, in silence, for him to deign to notice me.

I think that one of the bodyguards has noticed that I'm not behaving quite right. There's a little extra tension in her frame, a slight lean forwards suggesting that she's prepared to interpose herself at a moment's notice should I behave even slightly out of order. From the depths of my memory I drag up Mister Kent's distant lessons on how to appear harmless and do my best to put them into practice, using the loose shape of my robes to hide my stature, relaxing every muscle and generally doing my best to appear harmless. Gosh, that takes me back.

There's a sound of parchment rubbing against parchment as the Fire Lord rolls his scroll and binds it together, finally deciding to notice me.

"Since my sister entered confinement eleven people have tried to break into her prison. Nine were traitors seeking to release her. Two were people she's hurt who wanted to take revenge. All eleven are now dead." None of that was news to me, though the fact that he started with it is a little interesting. "Explain why you were there."

I make a point of not fully raising my head. "I sought to help her, majesty."

"Help." The muscles of his jaw tighten slightly. "My sister is being helped by the best doctors in the Fire Nation. What's so special about you?"

"The spirit I serve bade me visit her, majesty."

That makes him hesitate slightly. "Azula doesn't care about the spirits. I don't think she's prayed once in her whole life."

"But she has lived in accordance with the ideals of the spirit I serve, majesty. And.. that has.. not served her well. As such, her current state is the cause of some distress to my mistress. I was.. instructed.. to come here and render what assistance I could."

He remains still for a moment, considering my answer. The local religion appears to be animist, though the spirits who dwell on this world seldom directly intervene in people's lives. For the last century the Fire Sages have been reduced in status from enlightened spiritualists to symbolic court officials. But Fire Lord Zuko counts the Avatar as one of his close friends. My claim most likely carries a little more weight with him. "What spirit?"

"The Spirit of Avarice, majesty."

His eyes narrow, trying to work out whether or not I'm mocking him. "Avarice."

"She strove ruthlessly to realise her desires, subordinating all distractions in pursuit of the goal of becoming… Fire Lord. And yet… In the end-."

"She went crazy and lost everything."

"In essence, majesty. Though.. I.. wasn't able to spend enough time with her to.. fully diagnose-."

"Prove it."

"Prove..? "

"Prove that a spirit sent you. I've had a lot of charlatans and conmen try and convince me that they can help Azula. If you were really sent by a spirit, then I'll consider letting you try. Otherwise you can join them in the dungeons."

"Ah." I nod. What exactly would he consider adequate..? Hm, it's a little old, but… I manifest the Ophidian's Eyes and look directly at him for a moment. I'll credit him with having excellent self control. He barely recoils at all, though his expression shifts a little from irritated towards blankness. "Is that adequate, majesty?" He gives me a curt nod and I squeeze my eyes closed and give my head a small shake. Stage dressing as I remove the Eyes.

"Avarice, huh." He leans forwards slightly, elbows resting on his desk. "Let me guess: there's some sort of rare tea that she needs, or some oil extracted from a fruit whose location is only known to a handful of merchants..?"

"In all honesty, majesty, I don't think that putting hot liquids in her hands is really a good idea. There might well be some tea or some oil that would temporarily calm her, but I doubt that it would assist her in the long term."

"What sort of payment do you expect?"

I shrug and shake my head. "Bed and board, majesty. I've never been much of a tea drinker."

He doesn't quite squint. "And you don't.. want anything… For yourself."

"A healthy Fire Princess is far more valuable than trivial amounts of precious metal, majesty. Members of my order are taught to understand and achieve oneness with our desires. I want to help. All other concerns are…" I smile, waving my right hand dismissively. "Distractions."

He nods. "Very well. I will instruct her physicians that you should be granted access, under observation."

I bow again. "Thank you, majesty."

"Do you honestly think you can help her?"

"I am obliged to try, majesty." I rather doubt this civilisation -for all its surprising technological prowess- has quite discovered cognitive behavioural therapy yet. "But… If I may ask? I have.. some awareness, of the way your father raised her. Any more information you can give me would be extremely helpful."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Avatar: Legend of Azula, part 2

First Year
Reign of Fire Lord Zuko
Outskirts of the Capital City
Imperial Sanatorium

Morning, the following day

"Do you actually have any formal qualifications?"

Though the tone of Princess Azula's chief physician is condescending, it only takes me a fraction of a second to assure myself that he is guided by his concern… Not exactly for his patient, but certainly for the good conduct of his offices. He thinks that I may be a fraudster, but am more likely just a well-intentioned waste of time and the fact that he has been ordered to put up with me offends his sense of order.

After her defeat, Princess Azula was held in a.. specialist prison, close to the capital. Given the risks of a potential military coup using her as a figurehead, the decision was taken to move her to somewhere a little more remote. It is true that imprisonment seldom has a healthy effect on the minds of those who undergo it, but I'm sure that Princess Azula simply regards this as her brother trying to get her out of the way. Out of sight. Out of mind.

We're walking through the corridors now to the place where I will be granted my audience. As a highly skilled fire bender -a curious descriptor which apparently indicates that she possesses an innate ability to manipulate both fire and electricity- keeping her somewhere she doesn't want to stay is no easy matter. The rooms she is kept in are lined with high pressure hoses and whenever she is taken out of them she is chained hand and foot, particular physical actions apparently being required to activate her abilities.

"I am the spiritual leader of my order, my learned friend." Still true, though I am no longer the only member to have attained enlightenment. "Though it is true that my medical knowledge is fairly basic-" Though quite possibly more advanced than his. The people here are essentially Human after all. "-I have decades of experience in counselling people with.. similar backgrounds to the Princess."

A slight narrowing of the eyes. "Hmm." Ah, I just confirmed myself as someone who scrounges off aristocrats. If only he knew. From the brief glimpse I got yesterday it was clear to me that Princess Azula is in a bad way, but not more so than those poor souls who were once held in the Blue Cells on Maltus. I am an old hand at undoing the harm that can be caused by orange light exposure, literal or metaphorical. Now, even Larfleeze is.. nearly a fully functioning member of society.

We approach a door, and the guards standing by it open it at a nod from the doctor. Outside is a.. courtyard, a flame-blackened stone area in the centre surrounded by mostly recovered grass and edged by a flowering border. In the stone area, one heavy stone bench has metal rings set into it, designed to have manacles attached to them. Looking up, I see several guards dressed in blue Inuit-themed clothing… Ah, those would be water benders. A.. necessary precaution, I suppose.

"Sit down there-" The doctor indicates a seat on the opposite side of the stone area. "-and don't approach her. She'll be brought out in a few moments. The Fire Lord has sent you here, and I suppose I should tolerate one priest. But if I think for a moment your presence impedes her recovery-."

"Please, my learned friend. Such hostility is not necessary. If I am impeding her recovery, I will leave myself with no prompting required. My sole desire -and that of the spirit I serve- is to help her."

A combination of my own obsequiousness and the fact that he actually can't get rid of someone who has the authorisation of the Fire Lord to be here appears to placate him. "Very well." He turns, and heads back towards the door.

Taking a moment to arrange my robes, I sit myself on the bench indicated. Now, whereabouts..? Ah, of course. The chaotic tangle of orange that is Princess Azula's soul stands out clearly from her surroundings. Despite her angry and violent outbursts there actually isn't a lot of red, not inside. Plenty on the surface, a common enough response from people who believe that the world should be one way and are forcibly confronted with the fact that it is actually another. The buzzing mess appears to be in accordance with some of the descriptions of their upbringing Fire Lord Zuko gave me yesterday, as well as the more recent information the young lady Ty Lee was able to provide. Fortunately, there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with her actual brain. I'm actually feeling a little optimistic.

The door on the far side of the courtyard opens and Princess Azula is pushed through first. The guards behind her have some sort of staff attached to the chains around her torso and use them to push her along while staying out of arm's reach. Or what arm's reach would be if her arms weren't bound, folded across her chest and chained together. The Princess herself… A few bruises, and I think they're feeding her a weak herbal sedative. Compared to the portrait I saw yesterday her hair is much shorter, most likely shorn due to the impracticality of keeping it in good condition due to her violent outbursts. Her eyes go to me first, then disregard me, flicking from place to place as she tries to spot potential attackers or escape routes.

Cautiously, the guards with the staves manoeuvre her in front of the bench opposite me. She doesn't bother giving more than token resistance. Enough to remind them that she is a threat, but not enough to provoke a strong response. They push a little and she sits, not deigning to look at them as two other guards scurry in and one by one hurriedly transfer her bindings to the bench and then detach the staves. Their task complete, they pull back to the far wall to wait.

Without rising, I bow, my hands clasped to my chest. "Highness. It is an honour to meet you."

Her body is turned slightly to her left, indicating as best she can that I am unworthy of being in her presence. She regards me from the corner of her eyes, taking in my robes and trying to work out who or what I am. After a moment she returns her gaze to directly in front of her. "Are you supposed to be an air bender?"

"No, highness. I am a.. sage, one familiar with the ways of the spirits."

"I am not possessed." She snarls, but she doesn't look at me.

"I know, highness. But I do have some small insight into Human behaviour which I believe may.. help you."

She snorts. "Haven't you heard? I'm a monster."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a moment, highness."

Immediately her head snaps in my direction. "You should."

"No, highness. Though -please don't misunderstand- I'm sure that you believe it. And I'm sure that if you could right now you would gladly kill both me and everyone else here." A small sneering smile appears on her lips. "You're affirming your identity as a monster because it's the only freedom left to you."

She rolls her eyes. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The people who surround you every day these days want you to behave in the ways they consider conducive to good order. By opposing that in a way you consider consistent with your nature, you are able to protect your ego. The fact is, monsters aren't capable of learning the degree of self control you.. were famous for."

"My mother disagreed with you."

"I think your physician does as well. But that doesn't mean they're right."

"Ty Lee and Mai think I'm a monster."

"That's three people you've named whose opinions matter to you. A monster wouldn't care like that."

"So tell me about this total fantasy non-monster version of me who lives in your head."

I smile. "Alright then. At a young age, she showed great talent at fire bending. As a result, her father showed her particular favour and as a dutiful daughter she strove to keep him happy. She focused on her studies, trying with all her might to make him proud of her. Because… Wasn't that what she was supposed to do? And he in turn showered her with… Not affection, exactly. But he demonstrated pride as she got stronger, and made a particular point of encouraging certain behaviours which he believed useful. Viciousness, so that she'd push away all confidants but him. Cruelty, so that none would dare cross her. Aggression and assertiveness and a sort of domineering charisma. Useful traits for a Fire Nation noble. Her mother turned from her in horror, but that was fine. After all, she had her father."

"And when her brother failed to capture the Avatar so hard that an entire fleet was destroyed, she left the Fire Nation and took over the mission from him. Though she didn't quite manage to kill him, she did capture the Earth Kingdom's capital through stealth and guile and returned home in triumph. And when her brother betrayed her country, that was fine. She didn't think much of him anyway. Now her father would only have her!"

"And her friends turned from her, but that was alright, because she was doing what her father wanted. And they were traitors and they had to be dealt with as such. And then she came back to the palace to be told that she was to be made Fire Lord! The pay off had finally arrived." I smile. "All that pain, all that suffering, all that hard work, and here was the reward." My face falls. "An empty title as he promoted himself to King of the World, showing not the slightest regard for all of her efforts."

Her eyes are locked forwards, unseeing. She's shaking slightly. "You built your identity, your concept of the good, around a man who cared for you not at all. You pushed away everyone -just like you were supposed to- and you were left with nothing. And fixing that is what I am here to help you with."

 

[Mr Zoat]

My Little Pony: Avarice is Magic, part 1

1001, Celestial Era.

"AhH!"

I sit cross-legged on one of the few illuminated points on the moon's surface, watching with interest as the shadows flow around me like oil, coalescing and deepening at a single point just in front of me. There's a shift in local magic fields as the imprisonment spell finally collapses, and then:

"After a thousand years, I'm free!"

Nightmare Moon rears up on her hind legs and kicks with her front ones as her excitement at having a body again causes her to forget decorum. The pelt of Wilson's Night Goddess is deep black, coloured only by a purple blob on each of her haunches which in turn bears an image of a crescent moon.

Ohmygoodness.

"Now, 'tis time to conquer Equestria!"

She lands, lunar dust billowing away from her hooves as she does so. Her pupils are slits, like the eyes of a cat. She's clad in barding of midnight blue. The incisors in her upper jaw are extended beyond what any herbivore should need, and the rest of her teeth are surprisingly serrated as well. From her forehead extends a black, spiralled horn and from her sides extend two black-feathered wings, and the magic rune I'm holding in her direction shows that she possesses massive innate magic reserves. She's about one metre fifty tall at the withers.

Andshe'ssocute!

Okay, okay, I'm entirely too old to react like this to a Pony. I clear my throat. "If I might-" Her head turns towards me, lowering as if preparing to charge and gore me. Her wings open slightly, making her look bigger and preparing to thrust her forwards through this moon's surprisingly dense atmosphere. Her eyes narrow as she gets her first clear look at the intruder. "-have your attention for a moment?"

Her eyes narrow. "What manner of creature are you?"

"Does my voice not sound familiar? I have been visiting your prison on a fairly regular basis."

Her head rises a very small amount, tilting slightly to the side. "Yes. Your voice… We heard it…" Her head goes fully erect as she stares up at the stars. "A thousand years? You have visited us for a full millennium?"

"Not quite, highness. I was not here for the very beginning. Though after I first found you, I did make a point of being here whenever the spell's grip waned-."

Her attention returns to me. "So that you could commune with us." She nods, cautiously. "We remember your words, your attempts at counsel. E'en experienced in a dream as we did, we dread to think what a thousand years would have done to our mind without the distraction your words provided. You have your thanks, Ape."

NightmareMoonjustcalledmeanApe! EEEEEEEEeeeeee!

"Now we must be off. 'Tis the night of the Summer Sun celebration, and we are long overdue for a rematch with our-" She bares her teeth as she looks 'up' at the super Earth in the sky above us. "-sister."

"Might I..? Have a moment of your time before that?"

She rolls her eyes and lightly shakes her head, her translucent, star-filled mane falling slightly behind with each motion of her head. "We believe that we remember the thrust of your argument, having had nought else to contemplate. You wish us to resolve our conflict with our sister through means other than our battle magics."

"It would be nice."

She sneers. "Nice. Niceness has little influence on our mood. She trapped me here for a millennium and now she will fall beneath my hooves! You have made your view known to us before."

"Yes, but spiritual communion is not the most precise way of communicating sophisticated arguments. Would you do me the courtesy of hearing me once more?"

Her eyes go back to the planet for a moment, focusing on the dawn line. "Very well. But do not expect us to be much moved."

"As I understand it, the root of your conflict with Princess Celestia is that while your domain over the night mirrors hers over the day, the fact that your subjects are diurnal means that in practice her authority is greater."

"'Tis a little more than that. But… Yes, therein lies the root."

"Couldn't you.. share? Get up a little earlier in the evening-."

She rolls her eyes. "What a remarkable solution! In all my eight thousand years of life, not once had I considered-" Her ears lie flat against her head as she leans forward, scowling at me. "-getting up earlier." Fair enough. She shakes her head again, returning to a normal stance. "No, Ponies will choose 'day' for as long as it remains an option for them. The only way for them to select me over her is if she is no longer an option."

"And… Why does that matter?"

She blinks in confusion. "We are a princess of Equestria. 'Tis our due."

"But I'm thinking… Ponies are diurnal. You know that, they know that. Why not just leave?"

"We have our pride."

"But it's such a small place! I can feel your power, unconfined by binding spells. Equestia barely covers a small part of one of your planet's continents. Is that really the limit of your ambition?"

"Limit? Equestria is vast and prosperous. Of all of the nations we have encountered, whose sleeping minds we have touched-." I lower my head, shaking it. "What mean you by this effrontery?!"

I walk forwards, coming to a halt about a metre from her. The point of her horn is just about level with the top of my head. I hold our my right hand, palm upwards. "Let me show you."

"If this is some manner of trickery, be it known that we are notoriously vengeful and ill-tempered." She raises her left forehoof and puts it on my hand.

"Understood." I extend my aura over her and warp jump us about halfway between the planet and the moon, space bending to accommodate our travel. "Looks pretty big, doesn't it?" Another warp. Now, we're about one astronomical unit away from Wilson and its star. There aren't any other celestial bodies close by, this system's bizarre arrangement totally hostile to other planets. "A little smaller now, but still noticeable." Keeping her hoof on my hand she turns to stare back at her world. We warp again, this time halfway to the next system. One boring old main sequence star and two super Jupiter gas giants. Nightmare Moon looks around in concern as I pull away and spread my arms wide. "Night all around us, Nightmare Moon. Where lies Equestria?"

Her horn glows for a moment, then she gestures with her right forehoof. "That way. But we take your point. In the grand scheme of the universe, it is not so big."

I nod, then warp us again. One astronomical unit from her home world's nearest neighbour. She peers at it in puzzlement. "'Tis a.. sun, but it does not belong to our sister." A moment later she gets it. "You mean to tell us that every star is like unto ours, bearing worlds like our own?"

"Not exactly like yours. Less than one in every hundred are inhabited."

"You believe that we should turn our attention to one of these worlds in place of our own?" She tosses her head. "Why should those alien creatures care more for us than our own kind?" I smile, and warp us again. Beneath us a Karnan freighter ploughs through the void. Nightmare Moon's eyes widen in surprise. "Some manner of artificial vessel?"

I nod. "Trading. Travelling. Exploring. Far from any sun. Only the light you bring with you grants any meaningful illumination. Princess, day is a tiny, weak thing. A star's light diffusing through an atmosphere for half the world's cycle. You could do so much more than playing second fiddle to your sister or becoming a conquering, kinslaying warlord." I hold out my right hand again, manifesting a new orange power ring upon my palm. "Join me. Become their protector and in doing so earn their reverence. Let me give you eternal night."

She studies me, carefully weighing my words. "Tell us… More."

 

[Mr Zoat]

My Little Pony: Avarice is Magic, part 2

1001, Celestial Era.

"Thank you, my little Pony. I will be out to join in the festivities in a moment."

Oh, what would Lantern Onik have thought to see his High Priest staring at Celestia's mane like this? The gently waving pastel colours are so hypnotic, waving lightly in a nonexistent breeze. The Princess Regnant herself is politely shooing Ponyville's mayor out of her dressing room. Guards… Appear to have been similarly dismissed to join in the party. Outside, her apprentice appears to have calmed down somewhat from earlier and is chatting with the local school teacher.

She can't have failed to feel the spell collapse. Heck, the mare's head shape on the moon disappearing should have been enough of a warning. Yet, I can't feel any prepared spells. I think that I managed to talk Nightmare Moon down from her original plan of beating her sister senseless so that she could leave on a high note, but a little caution wouldn't be amiss on Celestia's end. Maybe Celestia has simply gotten too used to not having to fight people in her own weight class? Goodness knows I've had a few complacency episodes like that myself over the centuries.

She turns to look out of the window for a moment, gazing up at the moon. "Luna, where are you? This was the night-."

Darkness roils behind her as Nightmare Moon manifests through the shadows on the far side of the room. "Of our return." She takes a few confident steps forwards then stops. "Did you miss us, dear sister?"

Celestia's head dips slightly, eyes narrowing as golden light flows around her horn. "You are no sister of mine."

"Ugh." Nightmare Moon rolls her eyes as the two of them begin circling each other. "One thousand years and that is how you greet us? How are you? Keeping to your diet, I see? Do I have any new nephews or nie-?"

"Stop it. Stop pretending to be her."

"Pretending to be whom?"

"Luna."

Nightmare Moon stops. She blinks, genuinely perplexed. She flicks out her left wing for a moment, her eyes flicking back to check that it's still there. "You think us perhaps to be the other Alicorn of the Night?"

"I don't know how you possessed my sister, Nightmare Moon, but you-."

Nightmare Moon frowns. "Who?"

"You!"

"Oh, that." She nods. "We were Nightmare Moon for perhaps five minutes after having been Luna for eight thousand years. Excuse us for not remembering an off-the-cuff taunt we used a thousand years ago."

"Even at her most angry, Luna would never have raised her hooves against me as you did. She would never have imperilled Equestia as you did."

"And we knew that. Submissive, compliant, ignored and uncared for."

"She was never-!"

"That was why we transformed ourself into somepony who could. Somepony without all of those crippling weaknesses and doubts, drummed into her by your callous disregard."

"You're lying. Such magics are extremely dangerous. Luna would know-."

"Oh, pish. It involved less dark magic than we have both used before."

"No. I refuse to accept that Luna hated herself enough to turn herself into you."

"You weren't there when I performed the transformation and my records were designed to destroy themselves if you attempted to read them." She pulls her head back slightly. "Have you really been telling yourself for all these years that we possessed ourself? How absurd. Anyway." Her horn glows a surprisingly pale blue for a moment and a scroll appears in the air next to her before floating over to her sister. "We believe you will find it in order."

Not quite taking her eyes off her sister, the scroll is enveloped in Celestia's golden aura and cautiously unrolled. Her eyes flick to it, then back to her sister before widening and returning to the scroll. "You're abdicating?"

"You have clearly governed the country perfectly well in our absence. You have even managed the day and night cycle for yourself. Equestria neither wants us nor needs us. We refuse to play second fiddle, especially for a piece where only one fiddle is required. We are leaving to find a people who will appreciate us."

"But…" Celestia blinks in confusion. "Your duty…"

"Fie on 'duty'. They did not appreciate us when we lived here and we doubt that you erasing us from history has made them think of us any more fondly."

"That's not entirely true, Princess." I walk out of the shadows she created. Middle finger, middle finger, middle toe, middle toe. Don't know how M'gann managed things like this. Being a Pony is much harder than it looks. "She did create a festival where foals make offerings of sweets of various kinds to icons of you." Celestia takes in my grey coat, wings and horn. The transformation effect gave me an orange tail, mane and an orange sigil 'cutie mark', which I suppose is appropriate. My ring sits at the base of my horn. "In the understanding that if you don't like the offering, you will return from the moon and eat them."

"Who are you?"

"I am Illustres. A pleasure to meet you."

"And really? Eating foals? Really?"

Princess Celestia's eyes dip momentarily. "That festival was not my creation."

"It hardly matters." She walks over to the window and looks out at the festivities outside. "We will visit our quarters in the Castle to pick up some of our possessions and then depart."

Celestia looks at the disinterested Nightmare Moon and then back at me. "And what role have you played in.. my sister's change in behaviour?"

"He counselled me to reconcile with you. His words kept me from being driven mad by the isolation."

Celestia blinks, then focuses on Nightmare Moon. "You should not have experienced the passage of time-."

"The spell waxed and waned with the lunar cycle. She was meaningfully conscious for about three days a month."

"One century of isolation, since you're so concerned."

Celestia looks surprised for an instant, then rallies. "If you had not tried to kill me-!"

"No. No. It was a thousand years ago and we have decided that we do not care. We are done with Equestria, and wish you all joy of it." Nightmare Moon looks around, frowning to herself. "And we actually mean that. How odd." Her attention shifts to me. "Illustres, we will see you anon."

Shadows rise from the ground around her-

"Wait! I-!"

-then she's gone.

Celestia sits down heavily, staring at the patch of shadows her sister vanished into. "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen."

"Better than a fight, wasn't it?" I take a few finger-toe steps forwards before sitting myself. "I didn't think having two demigoddesses fighting it out would be all that healthy for anyone. And I didn't think that sending her back to the moon again would be much better. My experience with ancient evils is that it's best to either fix them or destroy them outright, and that the first is generally preferable."

"It was." She looks me over again. "How were you able to reach her when I was not?"

"My 'special talent' is helping people realise their desires. She just needed the problem… Rephrased a little. She wanted to be appreciated-"

"She-" Her head dips. "-was."

"-and she thought that you were an obstacle to that. When I showed her that she could simply go somewhere where they'd never heard of you, she was quite persuadable."

I get a minor scowl. "And what do you get from this arrangement?"

"A powerful and highly motivated magic user. I enjoy helping people become all that they can be, and if they do so doing something I want them to do, so much the better. And I get that annoying buzz of frustrated desire gone from my head. Ah, horn."

"I had… Hoped…"

"What?"

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter now." She gets up and walks towards the door. Just as she reaches it, she stops and looks back towards me. Gosh, Pony necks are flexible. "Please..? Ask her to visit me. I don't understand exactly what happened to her, but her absence these last thousand years has been like a hole in my heart."

I nod, standing myself. "Of course, Princess. She might not be available for a while, though."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Blight Up Your Life, part 1

1st April
13:53 GMT +5:30

Doctor Blight doesn't look back as she leads the way through maturation chamber seven, MAL's mobile screen hovering just behind her. As she reaches the door at the far end, the armature it travels on bends, turning him back to face me. "You better be right about this, Lantern."

I wave him off with my right hand. "I'm not convinced of the utility of a direct confrontation-."

Doctor Blight stops, her right hand outstretched to the release button. Like a lot of the things she builds, this facility is a strange mixture of super advanced and anachronistic. A door which requires a button to open it? No handle, but no motion sensor either?

"It's not all about utility, Lantern-sweetie. I've waited years for this and there's no way I'm getting cheated out of it now."

I shrug. "If that's really what you want."

For a moment her left hand moves upwards, under the fringe overhanging the left side of her face. Then she pulls it away, clenching her fist. "You better believe it, baby cakes. The look on their faces when they saw what we did to those Tigers… I am so ready for this."

MAL glances off to the side of his screen. "Much as I hate to bring down the mood, security has reported a perimeter breach."

Doctor Blight presses the button and the door retracts. A lot of the doors around here are blast doors. One too many encounters with high pressure water and bizarrely powerful gusts of wind I suppose, and they do serve to provide additional security around the more fragile parts of the facility. "Stop bellyaching, MAL darling." She steps through into the corridor leading to the dissection chambers. "This time, no one will-!"

"ABP!"

"Heh." Doctor Blight turns fully around to face me. "Are you still worried about that list?"

"I haven't properly been able to characterise local magic systems. It doesn't seem prudent-."

"Live a little." She turns away from me and starts walking again. "No one can stop me now. Everything is going according to plan. Those Planeteer punks are helpless-" MAL and I both wince. "-before the power of science!"

I lean towards his screen as she pulls away slightly. "Did you show her the list?"

"They cannot comprehend my brilliance!"

"You're the one who wanted to keep a low profile. I didn't think convincing her that killing her sister was an essential step was a particularly good idea."

"Everything is going perfectly!"

"Fair enough. Edited version?"

"I tried. But I'm not sure she was actually listening."

"Are you two coming?!"

MAL sighs silently, then accelerates Aperture Sphere style along his railing after her. I knew that recruiting a malign hypercognitive wouldn't be an easy thing to do. Or rather, it would be easy, just not easy to do on terms I could accept. I'm not going to give her a ring just to see her transmute the entire atmosphere into hydrochloric acid. This was the compromise we eventually struck. I assist her in getting a clear, unambiguous win doing something she actually wants to do, she agrees to adapt her methodology. On Maltus, where the natural environment has long since been destroyed and replaced, she wouldn't be able to do much harm. Even Mosaic is comprised mostly of artificial habitats. Once she gets out in the field… I need to know that she's not going to do anything antisocially crazy. And showing her that she can win without doing that is the best way to start.

I stride after my colleagues, pulling my phone out of my pocket and pressing the speed dial button for Mister Singh -our Ministry of Health attaché- as I do so. Probably a good idea if he's on hand during the confrontation. I really don't understand how Doctor Blight's got as far as she has without developing a relationship with some sort of business manager. Mostly, once a product she's developed is ready for release she just signs the licence over -usually to Mister Plunder- and then loses interest. She insists that she's not in it for the money and it's not like she's exactly short on resources…

"Chandeep here."

"Would you mind coming to the dissection room? We're about to have a showdown. "

"A.. showdown? With whom?"

"A group of environmental activists."

"Wouldn't calling the police be a more sensible idea?"

I roll my eyes. "You have met Doctor Blight, yes?"

He sighs. "In that case, I will be with you in a few minutes."

"Thanks." I hang up and jog after her. Amazing woman, really. Her actual doctorate is in chemical engineering but she's turned her hands at various times to just about every field of scientific and engineering endeavour with remarkable results. Even magic upon occasion. It's just a shame that she never- I press the button to open the door to what I wanted to call the surgical suite. -found a way to channel that to serve her own rational self interests.

"…what you have been doing here!"

Kwame points aggressively up at Doctor Blight from amongst the cut up corpses of various endangered animals, Gi at his side. Linka's holding onto a biological waste bin, stepping away from Wheeler, who appears to have vomited and missed. Ma-Ti is standing a little way behind the others. He's squinting at a dead Tiger, a look of puzzlement on his face. Not really a surprise that the team empath would realise that something was up. A second later his head jerks around to look at me. Hmm, some sort of passive detection? Wouldn't mind a look at their rings later, see if there's anything we can adapt-.

"Biological research. I've been studying how to automate surgical techniques-."

Gi's scowl deepens. "On defenceless animals?!"

"These?" She looks around at the remains. Not exactly best laboratory practice, but she wanted to make a point. "I cloned these." Stares. "My interest is in Human cloning, but I had to start somewhere."

Ma-Ti frowns. "I don't think this was ever alive." Don't think anyone's listening. A moment later he realises that as well. I give him a conciliatory shrug.

"This is sick." Wheeler wipes his mouth before raising his ring. "And I'm gunna make the right side of your face match the left. Fire!"

MAL nods. "Fire suppression-" A bolt of flame blasts from Wheeler's ring and is met by a shot from the lab's freeze ray. "-active."

"Nice try, hot stuff. But the fact is-" Doctor Blight tosses her hair back. "-you're too late." They stare at the smooth skin which now covers the left side of her face. "Cloned skin tissue and the finest in automatic surgery." She pulls the glove off her left hand and reaches up to touch her face. "In a few months I'll be able to supply every hospital in the country with transplant organs. Every surgical suit with machines that can handle just about any routine surgery."

"We saw your security guards! Their skulls were empty!"

Doctor Blight smiles. "Cloned body parts and a computer plugged into their spines. There was never anything in them, sweetie."

Kwame looks like the rug's been pulled out from underneath him. But for the team, he tries to rally. "Cloning Humans is against the United Nations Declaration-."

"Which isn't binding." Mister Singh walks in through a side door. "And nothing that has happened here violates Indian law. Not by Doctor Blight, anyway. You -on the other hand- are committing criminal trespass. And interfering with our attempts to resurrect endangered species through cloning."

"Heart."

Oh no you don't. "Avarice."

Two of Doctor Blight's securizombies enter through the rear of the room, truncheons ready. Mister Singh nods. "I suggest that you cooperate with Doctor Blight's security personnel until the police arrive to arrest you formally."

And at that point the Planeteers realise that they've been conned. I watch as even Wheeler deflates slightly, wind knocked out of his sails. In fairness to them, the idea that Doctor Blight might be doing something which helped the world does seem a little absurd. At least, it does until you realise that after a string of defeats what she wanted most… Was to see the look on their faces when this happens.

I give it a moment, but it doesn't look like they think Captain Planet is the way to handle the situation. Which is a relief, because I'm not sure-. There's a thump from behind me and I turn away from them as Doctor Blight stumbles back against the wall. "You alright?"

"Better than-" She pants. "-alright. After all these years…" She blinks heavily, and shudders as she takes a deep breath. "I think I'm ready for my ring now, Orange darling."

 

[Mr Zoat]

Kung Fu Leopard, part 1

The Pit
Chorh-Gom Prison

The guards here are impressively alert. As Commander Vimes was wont to comment, put together enough soldiers for a game of poker and unless there's an officer right there forget about them staying alert. These Rhinos on the other hand are by all appearances absolute professionals. Those outside are keeping a close watch on all approaches.

Tai Lung.

Those inside tend their equipment and man their stations as diligently as any I've seen. The distance between the Prison and the nearest settlement probably helps, as does the lack of amenities within the Prison itself, and I have caught the occasional muttered conversation. Simple word games, and those manning the ballistae down here in The Pit have scratched noughts and crosses boards into the brickwork.

What do you want?

But, all in all, a highly effective installation. Which did nothing at all to block my ingress via the spirit world. A little surprising, that. They clearly have spiritual adepts of the mystic martial artist sort, even if they don't have what I would regard as a conventional wizard. There were a couple of Daoist charms around the entrance, but they appeared to be purely decorative.

For what end do you strive?

Atop a pillar of rock there stands a Snow Leopard. Around his torso are locked metal plates like a Turtle's shell, holding in place the pins which keep him almost totally paralysed. Strapped to his wrists are heavy manacles, and from those manacles extend chains which descend through a series of iron rings into the abyss surrounding him. Attached to the ends of those chains are great lumps of rock, designed to pull him to the ground. In the eighteen or so years he has been here, the sum total of movements he has been able to make are twitching his tail, opening and closing his eyes and swallowing. Twice a day they feed him with a spoon on the end of a stick and once a day they clean away his excrement.

Silence, spirit.

Here in the spirit world I manifest as a great orange snake. The space around us is a dusty yellow/green, populated by floating rocks and what appear to be temple ruins. The floating island which Tai Lung stands on has the exact same dimensions as the platform upon which his body is imprisoned. No getting entirely away from the place. I half expected to find him in meditative repose. He isn't. He's practicing Leopard Style kata at incredible speed, mind and soul completely focused.

You called me, mortal.

I flow in a wide circle around his island, nearly forming a full circle. In a setting where an action like this might more readily be expected from a Chinese-style Dragon, I manage yet again to subvert genre expectations with my Snake body.

I did no such thing.

You burn with desire. Your soul resonates with the orange light.

I did no such thing.

How can you have come as far as you have, yet remain so ignorant?

I tilt my head slightly to the side as he performs a series of rapid strikes in my direction.

You can only achieve true spiritual balance by confronting and understanding yourself. Your discipline and skill are already unparalleled. These activities you perform with such vigour are a waste of your time.

He leaps across his island then lands, claws digging into the rock to arrest his movement and allow him to swiftly rebound. If you have something to say, spirit, then say it.

A phantasmal orange image appears on his platform. Himself, lunging towards the end of a temple. Before him stand a wizened Tortoise and a Red Panda. Tai Lung's eyes don't shift from his Kata as his younger self batters aside the second before being brought down by the first.

A misstep I will correct when the time is right.

Purely by chance, his motions take him through the shrine at the phantasmal Temple's end, striking the strange dragon-head decoration in the ceiling with a snap kick.

I am more interested in the why.

It was necessary for me to progress.

Orange light shifts, and the Tortoise shakes his head solemnly. The image of Tai Lung looks shocked, stunned at the refusal while the surprised looking Red Panda bows his head.

Were there no alternatives at all?

I am well versed in all forms of Kung Fu practised in China. I could continue to practise my less-favoured styles to master them more thoroughly. I could travel beyond China's borders and study other forms. But I am a practitioner of Leopard style. I attack, relentlessly and furiously. The scroll holds the next logical step in my development as a Kung Fu Master, so that is my objective.

Images flicker around the edges of his island, showing what little I could gather of his assaults on the people of the misleadingly named Valley of Peace. Mostly property damage, nothing worse than a few broken bones.

Were they impeding your progress as well?

No. Those assaults were the product of my anger. I was less.. focused then than I am now.

In my experience, such rage is usually the product of defied assumption.

A series of spinning kicks.

Is that unreasonable? I was raised to be a warrior, then at the last moment they denied me the tool I needed to fulfil that destiny.

They?

I turn my head to look at the previous image.

It seems to me that only the Tortoise is refusing you.

Shifu supported his decision. It amounted to the same thing.

A new image forms. A Red Panda and a much younger Tai Lung, moving slowly in the most basic forms of the martial arts they practised.

Another image, a little further on. The child Tai Lung vigorously attacks a training device, then breaks away and looks to the Red Panda for approval. A nod, and he approaches his teacher, rubbing his head against the older man.

Sweet.

That closeness was why the betrayal hurt so much.

He is why you became a martial artist?

He is.

Sooo... Indirectly, he's the reason why you want the scroll?

Tai Lung stops dead as I slither through the air around his island.

Just thinking out loud, you understand. But it occurs to me that you weren't just doing that as some sort of exercise in zen. 'I exist, therefore I strike'.

Ghost images of a hundred training sessions fill the air.

You did it because he taught you.

Another of Shifu patting the young Tai Lung on the head at the end of a spar.

Clearly, this relationship means a lot to you.

His eyes glow.

Clearly it meant nothing to him!

I pull away, looking at him with curiosity as he tries to regain his control.

Curious… That you should say that. Clearly it means something to you. Otherwise, why the outburst?

Begone!

I extend my head forwards, imposing on his personal space.

If the relationship didn't matter to you, you wouldn't have any reason to steal the scroll.

I will do this as revenge for eighteen years' imprisonment.

So you won't take the scroll? If you only studied martial arts for him, why not spite him by becoming a baker?

I flip over onto my back in the air.

Poor confused little Snow Leopard, trying to get his father's approval by beating his father up and stealing from him.

Raaaagh!

He charges and I recorporeate, appearing at the bottom of the Pit. I'll give him a few hours to think about things, then try again. We've both got plenty of time.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Kung Fu Leopard, part 2

Temple
The Valley of Peace

I watch as the Temple's roof explodes, Tai Lung and his former master shooting up into the air to strike at and wrestle with each other. Tai Lung appears to get the edge as they crash back down, making a new hole.

Honestly thought I'd have more time than this.

"All I ever did, I did to make you proud!"

I'll step in… Ah, slither in, if it looks like he's actually about to kill the chap, but even when they were on good terms they mostly related to each other by hitting each other.

"Tell me how proud you are, Shifu!"

I get close enough to see through one of the holes in the wall their fighting has created.

"Tell me!"

His hands are burning with blue fire. Burning oil from one of the braziers.

"TELL MEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Both sets of knuckles strike his diminutive opponent and send him flying backwards towards the pool at the end of the room. Okay, last… I flick out my tongue. Dumplings? Where..? Oh, the Panda's coming back. Huh. Hadn't really paid him much attention before, but he's gained quite a bit of mental focus from somewhere. Hm. Having Tai Lung sent back to prison would probably cause my task to flip over into 'flat out impossible', but it would be best if I didn't reveal myself.

"I… I have always been proud of you." The Red Panda pushes himself up slightly from where he fell. "From the first-" He pants. "-moment, I've been… Proud of you."

Tai Lung stalks closer. But.. some of the passion that drove him to assault his father figure appears to be waning.

"And it was my pride… That blinded me. I loved you too much to see what you were becoming." Shaking with effort, he turns his head to face Tai Lung. "What I… Was turning you into. I'm s-. I'm sorry."

What do you want?

Tai Lung's eyes dim. For a moment he stands like a statue, motionless and lifeless.

Then he falls to his knees, rocking back and forth slightly as conflicting emotions surge through him.

"I'm sorry, master."

Shifu blinks, taking a few more panting breaths as he tries to work out what just happened. "Ah… What did you say?"

"I'm sorry, master."

There's a quaver in his voice.

"Oh. Okay." Shifu blinks again and nods. Then he frowns, staring up at his hulking foster son. "What?"

"I'm sorry, master." Tai Lung drops onto all fours, choking back his tears. "I…" He crawls towards his not-entirely-up-to-speed former mentor. "I thought that was what I was for. I thought that was what you were training me for. Everything… Everything that was worth anything about me, I had because of you… I thought-" Shifu is looking a little nervous now, as the clearly distraught Snow Leopard still towers over him. "-that I needed to validate that by…" He sniffs. "By being the absolute greatest Kung Fu warrior that exists. By becoming the Dragon Warrior. And then… And then when Oogway turned me away…" He collapses onto his chest, hands gripping his head. "I thought I failed you. And you didn't.. care…"

Nervously, Shifu sits up and then cautiously reaches forwards with his right hand to gently pat Tai Lung on the head. "There. There?"

Tai Lung darts forwards, wrapping his arms around his former master's back and pressing his face against the man's chest as he bawls into his robe. Shifu freezes completely still for a moment, then sighs and goes back to patting him. "I have no idea what is happening any longer, but-"

"Waaahahaheeeeeh!"

"-I would rather not have to fight you and I am not having to fight you. So, I will not question it." Another sigh, deeper this time as his immediate need for oxygen is dealt with. "I should have pressed Oogway for answers-"

"Ughuhhuhuhrrr!"

"-then and there, if only to find out where I was going wrong in my teachings. And, now I think I will have to apologise to Master Tigress too, for the way I treated her."

Tai Lung makes an unsettling noise, like he's got an awful lot of snot built up but doesn't want to blow it out over his master's robes.

"Oh, hey!" The Panda stands at the smashed in doors of the temple. For a moment, he beams at them. Then he doubles over, panting hard from his exertion in running all of the way up the mountain. Well, he is a big Panda, with.. proportionally short legs. "You guys made up! Whaw, aheh." He sighs with exaggerated relief. "I thought I was actually going to have to fight you for a while there!"

Shifu taps his son on the head, then gives him a slight push. Tai Lung pulls back a little, rising into a hunched all-fours position as he turns to see who it is.

"'Cause, y'know, even with the Scroll, I…" He holds his right hand up in a request for time while he bends over, gasping for air. "I've only actually been… Studying Kung Fu… For a couple of weeks…"

Tai Lung stares at him in utter bewilderment. "This is the Dragon Warrior."

Shifu closes his eyes again, nodding. "I know."

"I feel-"

"I know."

"-not, less bad-"

"I know."

"-but-."

"I know."

"You guys have made up, right?"

Tai Lung is still too bewildered to respond coherently. Shifu looks him over, then returns his attention to the Panda. "He isn't on a rampage anymore, and he's been in prison for twenty years for his crimes." He takes a deep breath as he attempts to centre himself. "So I suppose we have."

"Oh. Cool." The Panda waddles forwards towards them. "In that case-" He pulls the Dragon Scroll out of his back pocket. "-I guess there's really no harm in letting you read-" Shifu starts frantically shaking his head and waving his arms back and forth across his chest in an emphatic 'no' gesture. "-the scroll after all." He notices Shifu. "What?"

Tai Lung can't bring himself to look at it. He shakes his head. "I-I don't want to read it. I don't deserve-."

The Panda holds the rolled up scroll out in front of him. "Hey, it's cool." Tai Lung starts backing away. "I don't think it's about whether you deserve it or not, really. Because, y'know, heh." He shakes his head. "I sure didn't."

"No. No." He raises his right hand to block his view of it. "I don't want to see it!"

The Panda shakes his head. "I think it's like one of those zen puzzle things? Y'know, the answer's something you can't understand until your head's in exactly the right place."

"Po!"

Oh, that's his name.

"I didn't get it when I first saw it. And, ahh…" He leans forwards, mantling his mouth with his free hand to stage-whisper. "Between you and me, I don't think Master Shifu did either."

"I don't want to see it!"

"It's fine, look." Po unrolls it and holds.. the blank but surprisingly reflective scroll out in front of him. A mirrored surface. Oh, that's clever. And a bit stupid.

Tai Lung puts his left hand over his eyes, waving Po away with his right as he comes closer. "Stay away!"

"Here."

"No!"

"Here." Po knocks his outstretched arm aside and tries waving the scroll in his face.

"No! I don't want it!"

"Here. You gotta-" Po tries pulling the hand over Tai Lung's face off so he can wave the scroll at his eyes. "-see-" Tai tries to turn away, but since he can't see where he's going he trips and falls onto his back. "-what's on-" Tai tries rolling onto his front, a motion Po converts into a confused roll which results in Tai lying on Po's vast stomach with the scroll in his face. "-this!"

Tai Lung blinks, squeezes his eyes closed. Too late. He's already seen it. His eyes come open again, staring madly at the surface.

"See what I mean."

"I DID! ALL THIS! FOR A BLANK..! For a blank scroll…"

"Guess you… Kinda did. The way I see it…"

Okay, I think he's done. So that's all of them. Past me, you need to go and deal with Ambush Bug now. It's been a while, but I seem to remember it going something like this…

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:23 GMT -5

The orange beams reconnect to me the moment I reappear.

"Recharge complete." / "Recharge complete."

What.

Future me meets..? No. Deal with pirates and robots first, have existential breakdown later. Rings, what's going-?

Brilliant flashes of light from the other side of my bedroom door. Deal with that first. A destructive bolt annihilates the door as the rings show me the exterior. A series of mobile force field projectors have been set up at the end furthest away from the hangar. Behind them, pirates armed with coilguns are firing down the corridor towards the advancing robots, which return fire with beams of golden energy. Rob's standing next to the pirates, and with electricity crackling around his forearms he shoves one aside and blasts lightning into their mechanical foes. Not a bad choice, the coilguns aren't powerful enough to put the robots down permanently in anything less than overwhelming numbers but they can knock holes in their insulated armour.

"Orange Lantern to Cornwall, cease fire."

"Oran-? Right. Cease fire! Get down!"

Remarkably, the pirates promptly obey.

Ring, railgun, unmakers. Stewart ring, energy pulses. Both, construct armour.

Compliance. / Confirmed.

I step out into the corridor and a strange dislocation comes over me, déjà vu of a possibly literal kind. Orange beams blast for their centres of mass while the railgun tracks them xenomorph style, head shots to kill and leg shots to impair mobility. I could have done this from inside but I know my construct armour is tougher and has better battery life than the mobile force field generators and I should probably make an effort to preserve our apparent allies.

And a moment later, all the remaining robots are down. Eight lie on the floor, though I'm sure that there were more when we started. Can't feel any more in this section. Right. I turn back to the pirate line. "Cornwall, what's going on?"

A few pirates have their guns pointed at me, so as a show of good faith I drop my railgun construct as Rob manoeuvres around the barricades. "The pirates are on our side now and we're all fighting the robots."

A man in a red greatcoat follows him around the barricades, then strides past him towards me. "Captain Tyrone Fortune, at your service."

"Orange Lantern two eight one four."

He seems disquieted by my response. "Do none of the men of this era have rational names?"

"I gave you my rank and the length of my writ. I have to like you before I give you my name. What led you to work for Ambush Bug?"

"He appeared from thin air upon my ship, the Revenge. He said that he wished to commission us to attack a target and that he would pay us well for our efforts. Once I had his sworn word that the target was not an English possession, I accepted. Then this madness began."

"Witchcraft is what it is, Captain!"

His head snaps around, scowling. "That's enough, Mister Harrow. We have one slim chance to see our homes again and I'll not have your bellyaching ruin it!"

Rob looks at Captain Fortune for a moment, then returns his attention to me. "Ambush Bug's still around somewhere. He said something about this pushing our ratings up." He shakes his head. "That bloke's seriously messed up."

"The robots?"

"They can take a beating, but we can put them down. Then they-" He waves his right hand at the wrecks. "-disappear. I think he's fixing them up. The Bio-Ship to a few nasty hits, so Aqualad had Speedy take it back outside."

"The League?"

He shakes his head. "We lost contact after the Bio-Ship left and the zeta tubes aren't working. Icon's still here, but that's about it. If he could move a bit of the Caribbean to the Antarctic we could be anywhere." He glances at Captain Fortune. "Or anywhen."

I reach around to my back and pull the robo-bug off my armour. "Okay. I should be able to prevent him recovering his robots or teleporting. Ring, analyse, and update the jamming system we used on Johnny Sorrow."

"Update complete."

Rob looks sceptical. "And the rest?"

"I was given a plan for that from a version of me from the future."

"Blimey."

"I should be able to stop him, but he's going to have all of my attention. We'll need to attack the hangar."

"If he hasn't got infinite robots anymore, we can do it. Captain?"

Captain Fortune turns back to his men. "Look lively, you sorry swabbies! Get those barricades moving!"

A couple of pirates hand their guns off to their comrades and switch the shield generators to tower shield mode. They're really too heavy and awkward to be used like that in a fight, but they should at least be able to protect the people behind them from a few shots. I raise my left hand to my ear. "Orange Lantern to Aqualad. I've jammed the robots' recall ability and Cornwall and I will be assaulting the hangar."

"Good work. The rest of us will deal with the robots attacking us and then push towards the hangar. Wait for us before beginning your attack."

"Understood." I generate an orange barrier and lead the advance down the corridor. "Whereabouts you from, Captain?"

"Portsmouth. I was granted a letter of marque by his Majesty King Charles the Second." He looks me over. "Now look you, you're the second Englishman we've met here so I want a plain answer. Is this English territory?"

"Charles the Second? Late seventeenth century?"

"The year was sixteen seventy eight, though I take from your question that it no longer is."

"Hey!" Rob looks concerned. "We weren't telling them because we didn't want to change history or anything."

"Bit late for that. In answer to your question, Captain, this is not English territory. Britain conquered all French and Spanish territory in North America before losing most of it to a revolt by the colonials. We're presently in Rhode Island."

"I know of it. And the year?"

"Twenty Eleven. Elizabeth the Second rules Britain and the United States of America are our allies. I say 'ours', for reasons which don't really bear going into I'm not actually a British citizen myself."

"Britain?"

Ring? Oh. "England and Scotland will be unified under King Charles the Second's niece, Queen Anne. The resulting state will be called Great Britain."

"Niece?" He frowns. "But Prince James is Catholic."

"And that's what seems odd to you about what I just said?"

"It has a beatitude of being unfamiliar in a familiar way. To be frank, the rest is a bit much."

"Fair enough. Charles had the sense to realise that his heirs being Catholic was a bit much for the country. He made sure his nieces were raised Anglican. I hope you'll be pleased to know that Christian on Christian religious wars are a thing of the past."

"I lived through Cromwell and the Restoration. I am well glad of it." He raises his coilgun as I destroy a patrolling robot. "I don't suppose that I could prevail upon you to permit us the continued use of these arquebuses once this affair is over, could I?"

"Not a chance."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:30 GMT -5

Rob looks at me across the energy weapon lit corridor. "You think he knows you're back?"

The fusillade doesn't cut out as we hear the sound of heavy metal feet charging down the hallway.

I generate a construct railgun and shield. "Could be."

I stick my construct out of cover for an instant and a shining beam of something immediately blasts it apart. About fifteen metres away is the lift shaft down to the hangar. Between it and us are eight robot warriors (now sporting force field barriers on their arms) and something which I really hope isn't an adult Mister Mind in a Skeets body. With everything that's been going on I hope I can be forgiven for not spotting the pirate-robot-Ambush Bug link to 52, but Skeets being on an Earth with no Booster Gold was a bit of a clue. I can only detect where it is by the area the rings won't scan. They have no idea at all what it's shooting and the one time I burrowed enough constructs through the walls on either side of the corridor to tag it, I couldn't affect its epidermis quickly enough to noticeably impair it. Its armour was made of Waverider's skin, wasn't it? The Guardians appear to have a bit of a thing about time travel. No help from the Stewart ring and I'm not quite ready to cut loose with the qwa matter just yet.

I like this planet.

"I'll draw its fire. Get those robots down."

"Right. Captain, shields first."

I shoot up to the top of the corridor. Thiiis is going to suck.

Head facing towards the robot and feet back to present the narrowest possible profile, I begin stabbing forwards with crumbler constructs. Skeets can manage three shots a half second, then needs a half second to recharge. I can fire faster, but not with enough power for him to consider it a threat. Everything around me slows as my beans intersect with his and I manually trigger the crumbler effects. His beams are mildly destabilised after one intersection. Two and they cease to exist. They come from the smaller gold lumps floating around his main chassis. I can judge the angle from how the smaller dots in the rear line up with the larger ones, but my constructs need to already be moving when he fires.

He's fired three volleys before the mobile shields are in place, their owners immediately dropping down on their chests to allow their comrades clear shots. As the first of the combat robots start taking coilgun fire Skeets adds a tenth of a second delay to his shot that I wasn't expecting. A fire extinguisher flies through the air as I realise that my filaments are out of position and I can't get-

NRUGUGHEH

The air shoots from my lungs as I wake up, trying to catch a breath and I can't! The night sky is all around and OH SHIT THAT'S THE EARTH! I see the Earth and it's a long way away and I can't breathe!

NOYOUDON'T

-my crumbler filaments back into position fast enough to prevent myself being hit. Uuh. Rings, calculate difference between that shot and the previous.

Lightning blasts from Rob's arms once more, arcing through the water spilled by the holed extinguisher to bypass the robots' barriers. The ones closest to the pirates' position begin to smoke and shudder.

Analysis available.

The shields covering one robot blink out and the pirates concentrate their fire on its chest. The combined force of the impacts knocks it back into its fellows where it slumps and doesn't rise. Skeets switches to irregular fire as I create crumbler barriers. Five layers covering the arc between me and him and this is going to cane my power reserves if we can't win here quickly. Fire from the robots' arm weapons finally downs a shield barricade, the pirates behind it throwing themselves aside to evade the incoming fire. I see hits to arms, legs and upper chest as they aren't quite fast enough. Skeets' next shot passes through the first and second barrier layers but the next three trigger as intended and the attack fizzles out. Then he switches back to full speed firing to try overwhelming it.

The water on the floor freezes, momentarily robbing the robots of friction. As several start to slip, Rob gestures and it reliquefies, flowing upwards and freezing around their joints. Another shield barricade is brought into position and activated as I create another barrier layer, trying to get closer to Skeets. I've got less time to intercept but the barriers can detect whatever weird alteration that beam makes to them, allowing me to judge the required position with complete-.

Skeets cuts his repulsor and drops down the lift shaft, just as the last of the robots fall.

Uh.

Time accelerates back to normal as Rob waves the water aside and the pirates undeploy the barriers once more.

"By God! What was that thing?"

I drop back down, towards the wounded pirates. No fatalities, I note. "I'm not sure, Captain."

Rob frowns at me. "Thought it hit you."

"It did. For a moment I was back to when I first arrived in this reality. Without the ring." Filaments slide over the burns on the bodies of the wounded, mending flesh and repairing clothing. "Orange Lantern to Aqualad, we're about ready here. Slight problem, he's got some sort of drone weapon. Its weapon appears able to bypass my defensive constructs."

"Do you believe it is safe to proceed?"

"I'm pretty sure that I'm preventing him from summoning more reinforcements… But if we don't do something, he can sit in the hangar with it indefinitely." I think for a moment. My… What I hope to be my future self -because recruiting those people would be ridiculous and awesome- didn't mention Skeets being here, which is kind of a big oversight. On the other hand, the other aspects of his thoughts on the matter still seem reasonably sensible. "I think I.. might still be able to talk him down. But it'll require my full attention if I have to dodge the drone as well."

Rob and a couple of the pirates are attaching ropes to the lift shaft. They'll be a second wave if the Atlanteans can't down our attackers and I can't talk Doctor Schwab out of it.

"Make the attempt. We will not be able to guarantee his survival if we are forced to attack at full power."

"I'll keep transmitting. Transitioning now."

Doctor Schwab floats over the hangar pool, sitting in what looks a lot like one of Doctor Ivo Robotnik's flying pods. Some robots have taken defensive positions around the entrances while others are clamped to the walls to make sure they have clear shots. Skeets floats just behind his new master. Prepare to dodge…

Doctor Schwab scowls… I think. It looks like he's supposed to be scowling, the mask makes it hard to tell. "You again. What's it take to get rid of you, huh?"

"I'm not entirely clear why you're so set on doing that."

"Because you're an SI. Have you any idea how much you mess up the story just by being here? It's hard enough to keep these things on the air as it is, and you don't even want to ask about the merchandising." He leans forwards. "I already saw one series fall into the abyss. I'm not about to let that happen again."

"So why did you bring pirates-"

"Privateers!"

"-and robots here? Please tell me you don't have Mister Mind in there."

"Hah! You admit it!"

"Admit what?"

"The only way you could know how they're linked is if you read it!"

"How do you know then?"

"I was there. Obviously. Anyway, I don't know exactly how much damage you've done, but privateers fighting robots should be enough of a draw that I get time to get rid of you permanently."

"Now, hold on a moment. How can you be sure I've done any damage at all?"

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:34 GMT -5

"Polling data."

I raise my eyebrows. "Polling data?"

"Market analysis. People keep buying Superman comics, Batman comics… Heck, they've been buying them for seventy years. Name one comic about socioeconomics."

"Spice and Wolf."

I think he's frowning. "Name. Two. Or name one that's seventy years old!"

"Okay… I can't."

"War and Peace is fine, but this just isn't the War and Peace universe."

"No, it's Universe Sixteen."

"Right, Young Justice. You gotta keep the ratings up, gotta move the merch, or you get cancelled. What people like is what they spend money on."

"And you think my being here is creating a genre shift that is going to drive people away?"

"Obviously. If Reed Richards isn't useless then you end up with a setting people can't relate to. One that doesn't look like what they see out of the window."

"Watchmen sold perfectly well, and that has electric cars everywhere, Nixon serving three terms-."

"And it was a limited run thing!"

"And a film-."

"And the prequel series and now I hear they're doing a TV series! Now you wanna tell me how many series Batman's had since Watchmen got published?"

Um. Animated, Brave and the Bold, The Batman, Beware… "Four?"

"You wish. People like what they like. And you're a threat to that. Skeets?" The robot floats up a little.

"Wait a second. Wait a second. You think I'm an SI right? The author embodied in the story?"

"Yah huh."

"But if I die, why would the author carry on writing it? I mean, if I'm their window on this world…"

"Nice try, but this universe will just fold back into the real Young Justice. We probably won't even remember you ever happened by the time season two comes around."

Oh dear. "But the competition in the Superhero comic market is so great that this might well get cancelled anyway. And if that happens, aside from the occasional reality jumping thing no one will hear from us again."

His arms shoot up. "I know that! But what can I do?! I have to go for the route that gives us the best chance!"

"Oh, come on! Do you know how meta you made this episode? Self indulgent cleverness turns people off like nothing else."

"Only from your point of view. From everyone else's, they got a quick lesson on the Antarctic's environment and an awesome fight with robots and pirates! And that Grayven guy, for the niche crossover appeal."

Who? No, never mind. "But maybe a different approach would work better."

"Like what?"

"You know… Probably better than I do, how many different superhero comics there are. Lots, right?" He nods. "Okay then. Why should people buy this one over the others?"

"Greg Weisman?"

I frown. "The Street Sharks guy?"

"Don't let him hear you say that."

"But… You think… The me who's.. outside.. is writing this. So even if Greg Weisman is the original writer, that doesn't have any impact on the quality of.. what we're experiencing now. Right?"

I think I'm getting a bit out of my depth now.

"It's his setting. He's got a series bible, it's got good fundamentals. The setting's coherent. Lotsa stories start in worse places."

"Okay, but… Even if it's a good example of the superhero genre, it's inevitably going to be retreading a lot of ground, right?"

"I.. guess..?"

"So what's unique about it? See, what I'm thinking… What if all the things I'm doing are what make it stand out? I mean, on a newsagent shelf there are going to be a dozen comics about a superhero punching someone in the face. How many uplift comics are there?"

"None! They wouldn't sell!"

"Internet. I know there's never going to be the same size of market for things like that, but it's possible to have perfectly successful niche players that just run and run. Even if we never make this continuity equal Earth One-"

"Ahhhbout that-."

"-if we put ourselves in a position no one wants to compete with, that will do more to assure our survival than being one of a crowd. There should be at least enough people interested to support one uplift superhero story. One that tries to be both realistic about the consequences of superheroic actions without being all grimdark all the time. Where characters can make lasting changes to the setting for the better, and have them stick. In a setting only written in by one author, that can happen! And it can attract a loyal enough audience to keep it going!"

"You got Ted Kord and those other guys working on that, right?"

"Yes?"

"Skeets."

Transition!

I'm on the other side of the room as the little robot's beams send chunks of floor… Somewhere. "What the hell was that for?"

The pod thing swivels around. "It's a good idea, but there's no way DC'll okay something like that with characters they don't own! You're still an SI so you've still gotta go!"

"How do you know I'm an SI!? How do you-" Transition. "-know I don't have media awareness like you do?! Have you-" Transition. "-checked every comic in every setting DC owns!?"

"Of course not! That's what the wiki's for."

Transition. "But that only works for named characters!"

"Skeets, knock it off for a second." The robot stops, and Ambush Bug's pod floats in my direction as I head for the door to the kitchen. "What d'ya mean by that?"

"What if I'm a minor character who got promoted?"

"How d'you mean?"

"How many Orange Lantern Corps characters can most fans name? Larfleeze, Sayd, Glomulus, maybe Blume… Then it's that butler guy…" I shrug. "But in theory anyone can get a power ring. What if rather than being an SI, I'm a reference to an old DC property. Greg Weisman.. or one of the artists read something years ago and thought 'hey, why don't I put that guy in it'? If that's what happened, then I'm fully owned by DC." I land and spread my arms out. "I mean, it wouldn't exactly be out of character. Who heard of Queen Bee or Sportsmaster or.. Nylor flipping Truggs before this?"

"I…" Ambush Bug looks thoughtful, his right hand going to his mouth. "So are you saying you are a minor character?"

"How would I know? For all I know, we're having this conversation to establish that social battles can work for final showdowns just as well as violent battles. But whatever I am, this is my home. I don't want it to stop existing, but I'm not prepared to abandon everything I've wanted to do to make it better. That would be denying my heroic identity."

He vanishes from the pod and appears next to me. "I see where you're coming from… But the only way to know for sure…" I activate the bug and pull open the kitchen door. He looks into the room I just revealed. "Oh no."

It's not the kitchen. Videos, DVDs, film reels and out of date radios litter the various available surfaces. But more than anything else, there are comics. Stacks, piles, drifts of them, reaching up to the heavens and off into infinity. Everything DC ever produced, every published work and unpublished author's note.

Ambush Bug shrinks back from it. "You can't… Ask me…"

"It's the only way to know for sure. You have to check.. everything. Because if I'm in there at all, I'm canon. And if I'm canon, then I'm authorised. And if I'm authorised, this deviation from the normal tropes has been authorised by DC Editorial. And if you go against that… Well, who knows?"

"I'm too pretty to go unpublished for years again!"

I look into the room again. "Then you know what you have to do."

He stares at the monstrous piles of comics. Then he reaches into his belt and pulls out a remote control. One click and the pod, Skeets and the other robots all vanish. "If I gotta, then I gotta."

He takes a deep breath, then marches into the comic cave and closes the door behind him.

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
18:39 GMT -5

I deactivate the bug, wait for a moment-

"Recognised, Superman, zero one."

-and then open the door again. Just a kitchen. Just a kitchen. Thank goodness.

"Recognised, Wonder Woman, zero three."

"Orange Lantern to everyone. He's gone." I take a deep breath, then turn away and let the ring float me down the steps.

Mister Kent's moved to the middle of the hangar, eyes glowing as he searches for targets. Diana -resplendent in the gold and red plate armour Io and Ted made for her- gives the hangar a quick glance and then flies towards me.

"Orange Lantern, what happened?"

"Pirates, robots, Ambush Bug… And a whole lot of really weird stuff that I'm probably going to ask to leave out of the official report." I sigh. "Is now a good time to bring up the idea of automated defences again?"

"Are you still under attack?"

Ring, scan. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Kaldur, Rob? Icon? Pirates and robots?"

"Gone, mate. They just disappeared."

"The mountain's systems detect no further presence."

The water in the hangar pool surges as it lifts the Atlanteans onto the Bio-Ship landing platform. No targets in sight, Mister Kent lowers himself to consult Kaldur.

"Sounds like we're safe, sir. Though I may have had my view of reality permanently altered." Her fists.. unclench. Huh, hadn't noticed that. "Sorry we were out of contact, sir, but I understand that Doctor Schwab did something to the mountain."

She nods, then raises her right hand to her ear. "Wonder Woman to League. Stand down. Situation normal."

Oh dear. "Rob, did the coilguns go with the pirates or stay here?"

"Still got 'em here. Um, could you give me a hand putting them back in the armoury?"

"Sure, just…" Oh, hang on. "Look, it's past eleven UK time. Why don't you just head home? Let the rest of us handle cleaning up."

"Come on mate, I'm not going to be able to sleep after this."

"Alright. Ah, just do a quick visual inspection… See if any fabric or blood from the pirates who were hit got left behind. I'll handle the guns."

"On it. Thanks."

Diana waits for a moment to make sure that my conversation with Rob is over. "I read your report on your encounter with Doctor Schwab in Antarctica. I'm not sure why finding out that other versions of you exist would be so disturbing. You got on surprisingly well with your Blue Lantern alter ego, and he was a criminal."

"Meeting them would have been fine." I generate a couple of construct armchairs and deposit myself in the closest. "Living parts of their lives as if I was them is a bit different. I mean… You've met your Dane of Elysium a few times but you've never lived as him. And you certainly never lived as the vampire version of you you met that one time."

She sits down opposite me, nodding supportively. "Okay. What exactly was it that upset you so much?"

"I come from… For the sake of this conversation, let's call it Earth Prime. I checked, there isn't a version of me here. No Me Sixteen. I assumed that meant that I wouldn't have doppelgängers, that whatever it is that causes there to be lots of versions of Wonder Woman or Superman or.. whoever, didn't apply to me. That my point of origin was outside that. But they all remember coming from the same place I did. Exactly the same."

"If they were real."

"What I saw Blue Lantern doing was consistent with how he behaved when I met him, and.. with how I'd behave. And the time I spent in his head-. No, as him… It's possible, but I've got no reason to assume that the others were any different." I shrug. "So maybe we're all copies of an original? I can't know for sure unless I visit… Home."

"You don't talk about your family much."

"They're not really relevant to what I'm doing here. And since I can't communicate with them…" But it wouldn't do for her to think I was avoiding the subject. I take a holoprojector out of subspace and have the ring take images from my memories. "Dad, Mum-" I point them out in turn. "-my sister Karen, sister's boyfriend Peter, Aunty Sallie and Uncle Richard, Uncle Simon… He doesn't actually have that moustache anymore, that's just how he looked when I was younger. The Cats: Bubbles and Magic. My grandparents." My grandparents died a few years ago, but I show them as they were… As I think they were when I was eighteen. "So, okay, maybe I'm a copy. That's fine, everything I've done since I got here is all me and all that jazz. Second time Doctor Schwab bugged me I ended up in-" Oh, irony of ironies. "-a setting I recognise from a work of fiction. I think I was.. a future version of me."

"From what little I understand about the way the Bleed works, there may well be parallel universes that resemble works of fiction." I have the ring seize control of my facial muscles. "Maybe you saw yourself visiting them in the future."

"Yes, but a combination of that and Doctor Schwab referring to this setti-. This universe as fictional and interacting physically with things I believed to be fictional and... The fact I had to get into his metaphorical head to convince him to leave left me a bit discomported."

"He just left?"

"He believed that I risked lowering the series' ratings and so causing cancellation. Once I convinced him that the setting could distinguish itself from other superhero works by embracing my ideas-" Her eyes narrow slightly but her lie sense doesn't go off. "-he was worried that the company which owns this work couldn't profit from it because I'm creator-owned. I told him that he'd risk going against editorial policy unless he checked, so… I opened a door and there was a big pile of comics… And he'll have to read them all to check I'm not a promoted background character." Her mouth is hanging open slightly. I look up at the cavern roof. "Does this mean I beat Batman for craziest villain now?"

"If he was genuinely trying to save the entire universe from being cancelled then I'm not certain that he is a villain. Where is he now?"

"No idea, and hopefully he'll stay there for a long time." I get up. "We also need to check historical records for a privateer named Captain Tyrone Fortune to make sure he got back to his own era alright.. Assuming he wasn't a fictional character as well. Oh, and the pod at STAR Labs."

"The Atom's been working on it since we lost contact with you." She rises from her seat and I remove the constructs. Mister Kent appears to have finished speaking to Kaldur and they are walking our way. "Despite the difficulty you appear to have handled yourselves well."

I nod. "How are you finding the armour?"

She moves her right arm… A little awkwardly, actually. "It is a little more confining than I'm used to. I want to give it a fair-" She's not looking directly at me. Diana's terrible at deceit. "-try before I-" Ring? "-give my final-."

"What happened to your arms?" Under the golden metal covering her limbs are a series of nasty looking burns and.. scalding injuries, like she wrestled someone who was made of fire.

"It will heal quickly. And it is a useful reminder that I am not invulnerable."

"Did you wrestle an Elemental or something?"

"No." She turns her head back towards me. "But it seems that you were right about Richard Swift."

 

[Mr Zoat]

1st April
20:07 GMT -5

"Who?"

Neither Holly nor Karon appear to recognise the name. I turn my head to the right to see if Jade knows it, but she just shakes her head.

"Richard Swift. The Shade?" Still nothing. "He took over from Jack Knight -Starman- as superhero-in-residence of Opal City in Maryland… Um, about twenty years ago?"

Holly makes a little shrug, her lips pursed. "So why'd it matter that he was strong enough to hurt Wonder Woman?"

Jade shifts position a little, leaning into the settee's side cushion. "Because Wonder Woman's one of the toughest people on the planet."

"I've seen her on TV. She uses those bracelet things to block bullets. If she's so tough, why doesn't she just ignore them like Superman does?"

"A few reasons. Firstly, if she didn't they might go anywhere. There have been a few incidents where bullets deflecting off Superman have hit and injured people."

Karon blinks in surprise. "Really?"

I nod. "Doesn't get a lot of news coverage, apart from one time early on in his career when someone sued him over it, but yes. He doesn't have super tough skin, he has a sort of skin tight biological force field, so if you hit it from the right angle it doesn't necessarily remove much momentum from the bullet. Secondly-."

"You mean-." Jade looks at me in disbelief. "-Wonder Woman can judge bullet trajectories fast enough to deflect them precisely?"

"Well… She has been doing this for seventy years. And the bracers are enchanted. But, yes, most of the time. Um, anyway, the other reason is because you never know when someone's going to fire something at you that actually can hurt you. Someone uses something that doesn't look threatening-" I turn my head to look directly at Jade. "-like poisoned lipstick-" She rolls her eyes. "-and you can end up looking like a right idiot."

"You-?" Holly smiles slightly as she waves her right forefinger at us. "You kissed him.. when you had poison lipstick on?"

I nod at her. "It was so romantic."

Jade nods, sitting up then leaning into my side. "Then he nearly choked me to death."

I smile affectionately at her. "Oh, you totally had that coming."

"Aaaand now it's just like Christmas at my parents' house." Jade and I both look at Karon in horror. "Wha-?" She blinks, then rolls her eyes. "I was joking, guys. Jeez. My parents never get that bad."

"And.. I'm.. glad to hear it."

"They just do all this weird passive-aggressive stuff. Eh." There's a moment of silence. "Ah, Wonder Woman blocking bullets?"

"Um, yes. Anyway, Wonder Woman is very resilient."

Holly leans forwards slightly. "If they're both superheroes, why'd they fight?"

"Superheroes fight each other in training all the time. Wonder Woman usually works out with Superman or Big Barda-."

Holly snorts in surprise. "There's a guy who picked 'Big Barda' as his superhero name?"

"Her name's Barda and she's just over seven feet tall."

"Okay, Big Barda it is."

"The Shade used to be a thief. He fought the Justice Society on a number of occasions. His particular ability… He had a cane which appeared to grant him the ability to manipulate shadows, including the ability to make them have actual weight behind them and to teleport between them. What they didn't know was that he was sandbagging them. He was actually much more powerful than he pretended to be. He doesn't need a cane at all, he can control shadows at will and he can control a far greater mass of them than he ever did against the Justice Society."

Jade frowns. "Why did he do that?"

"He didn't need the money. He's about a hundred and eighty years old and.. when he was younger, something happened to turn him into some sort of eldritch shadow creature. He competed against the Justice Society because he found it entertaining, but he realised that if he fought them at full power he'd kill them and his fun would end. So he didn't. He faked weaknesses he didn't really have and when they won, he tipped his hat and let them." I lean back slightly. "I told Diana that last year, when this nutter called Nylor Truggs attacked a group of us with a thing called an 'Enemy of All' and I called in the Shade to get rid of it. She didn't quite believe me, but today she had to go to Opal for something and decided to check."

Holly looks incredulous. "She asked him to try to hurt her?"

"She asked for a display of his real power. Things.. escalated. See, Diana's.. a lovely woman, but when she was younger she had quite a temper on her, and she was a lot more prideful than she is now. Knowing that he was basically taking the piss out of her younger self.. sort of… Caused her to have a relapse. Apparently he just found the whole thing rather funny."

"She gunna be alright?"

"Oh yes, she'll be fine in a few days. Diana heals very quickly from mundane injuries, however they were caused."

"So, ah…" Karon nods at the television playing silently in the background. "What's with her new look?"

"Diana's normal armour was made by Hephaestus. And you may have noticed, but it's basically a swimming costume."

Holly smirks. "You bet I noticed."

"Right, well, we can't equal Hephaestus' work quite yet, but Io, Ted Kord and this Atlantean guy I know are working on enchanted armour that will actually cover her everywhere. There's even a helmet. The fact it covers up the burns on her arms is just a nice bonus."

Holly looks up at the ceiling. "So… Wonder Woman."

"What about her?" Holly's grinning and her eyebrows are raised. Karon glances at her then rolls her eyes. Oh. "Diana grew up in a homonormative society but I have no idea whether she prefers men, women, neither or both. To the best of my knowledge and the knowledge of those Amazons I've asked, she's never been in a serious romantic relationship with anyone."

"Oh." She nods. "That explains it."

"Explains what?" Jade lets out a quiet snort and Karon giggles.

"You holding out for Wonder Woman?"

"O-? No." I shake my head. "No, that… N-. No. I mean, she's my best friend's mother." Sniggers all around. "And even if this is a work of fiction, it's not that kind of work of fiction. Honestly, I don't think of her in that sort of way."

"So, um…" Karon moves her right hand in a circle. "What happened to them? The.. Pony princess and the pyromaniac and the Leopard guy?"

"I don't really know. I assume that Nightmare Moon joined the Orange Lantern Corps. Or.. will in the future. If it actually was a vision of the future and not just something… Else. I stopped being aware of what was happening to Azula just after she started shouting at me. Him. The Leopard, I don't know."

Jade shifts position so that she's kneeling on the settee, looking down at me. "And the beautiful supervillainess you rehabilitated? What happened to her?"

Ah, heck. It's a beautiful feed line, but she's still effectively on probation. On the other hand, so is Talia and Batman's marrying her. "Well, that depends." I lean forwards slightly and purse my lips. "On what she wants to happen to her."

She nods, smiles, then sits back down. "Good to know."

…

Dang.

 

[Mr Zoat]

Triumph of the Will

3rd April
09:26 GMT -5

"Ooookaaaay." Ted taps a couple of buttons on his tablet and then looks up at the… Ah, call it what it is, the stage. "Try the legs?"

Diana leans forwards, stretching her left leg straight backwards as she bends her right at the knee, her hands resting on her right thigh. She bends it a little further, then tries twisting her torso left and then right. Then she stands and bends her right leg behind her, taking hold of her right foot with her right hand.

Io looks her over. "It seems well to me, Princess. How is it to you?"

Diana lowers her right foot to the ground, then spreads her legs apart before bending to her left. "Constricting."

Io's face falls. "Which part, Princess? We can-."

"No, Io, the armor is perfect. It's simply that my normal Wonder Woman armor doesn't cover quite so much. I have become accustomed to the flow of the air across my arms and legs."

Ted starts walking in a circle around her while the motion sensors capture everything for later review. We developed this set up to try and make the computer in my power armour a bit quicker on the uptake, but Ted thought it could help with arcane armour as well. "We've only been talking about the enchantments we could put on it in the theoretical so far. Sephtian could probably come up with.. something if it's a problem for you. Of course… We can only make the matrix so complicated, you know? Might end up…" Head down again, he taps a few more buttons. "We could make a bunch of different versions if you can't decide."

Diana twists and throws a punch to her right, testing how far the armour can accommodate her. "Can you make me faster than a speeding bullet?"

"Top speed in the air, no problem. I mean, you'll want a helmet with a-" He waggles the tablet at his jaw. "-mouthpiece…" He turns to Io. "Io, you don't happen to have a super tough glass or something you haven't told me about, have you?"

"Would aluminium oxynitride not work just as well?"

"For the armor? Sure, but it's a synthetic material so-."

She nods. "It would interfere with the enchantments."

"Yeah." He taps his tablet again. "Maybe. We might be able to persuade the spells to just ignore it…"

Diana stands again and looks down at Io. "How were you able to make this so quickly without Paul's help?"

"The foundries here are far more advanced than those on Themyscira, Princess. Achieving an alloy that is nearly perfect for the transmutation is apparently a simple matter."

"I wouldn't say simple, but-" Ted shrugs. "-yeah. Automating the process of making the rings for the chain was harder. We don't usually have any use for armatures that small."

"That is why the armor I made for the guards on Themyscira makes no use of chain. Without the knowledge of enchanting Sephtian shared it would have taken until the end of the universe for me to transmute all of the links that would require."

"How do you feel about the design?" Ted points to her with his tablet. "We could stick some stars on the skirt if you start missing them."

"No, that won't be necessary." She rises slightly into the air, then drifts down from the stage. "The design is perfect. The armor is beautiful." Io beams, blushing slightly. Ted grins. "I am almost afraid to be struck while wearing it in case it becomes damaged."

Ted nods. "Just because you can take the hits, doesn't mean you have to."

"Who else do you plan to make such armor for?"

"Small wrinkle there."

Ted pulls a face. "Y-eah."

Diana looks at me. "What is it?"

"Senator Clyemne's been agitating again. Currently, we're not supposed to manufacture suits for any military organisation, which.. because Themyscira doesn't separate the military guards from police guards, includes the police."

"She doesn't have the authority to order that."

"It's covered by existing laws about supplying military equipment. We can make it for the Justice League, or other Amazons… Which means we can make some for Kon, Donna or me… Unless Lyta Trevor-Hall feels like coming out of retirement."

"That seems unlikely."

"And then we run into a bit of a roadblock. Themyscira doesn't trade with the outside world, so we can't pay them for the right to sell it. Or, we can, but they've got no use for the money. Giving potentially hostile countries better armour does technically weaken Themyscira's defence… This isn't something where I can just persuade my fellow citizens not to demand that I stop, this is… They'd have to actively change the law to make this possible. And I'm not that popular yet."

"Do you want me to try speaking on your behalf?"

I shake my head. "No, thank you."

Ted raises his right hand. "I wouldn't mind, actually. Oh, I'm not-" He turns his head to me. "-complaining, or anything. Kord Tech's share price doubled within a day of us announcing the weather control drones and our order book is packed, so this whole thing hasn't been a drain on our assets. But I'd like to know this is going to get used by more than a handful of people. Otherwise, I just-" He shrugs. "-feel like I'm kinda wasting my time."

"But it's not just this. I want Amazons to embrace the best of the modern world. Otherwise, we're going to have to fight them on every little thing. I mean, we're not even allowed to mass produce the purple healing ray. It's a gun that shoots life."

"A Nazi gun that shoots life."

"Also." I turn to Diana. "Bit annoyed you didn't tell me about that thing earlier."

Io walks around to join us as Diana shakes her head. "I didn't know that she had a working version in her workshop. Otherwise, I would have brought it to America myself."

"Okay, that.. makes sense." I return my attention to Ted. "And who knows what else they've got squirreled away where no one will ever hear about it."

"Princess? We have a purple healing ray here if you wish to use it on your arms."

Diana shakes her head. "Thank you, Io, but that will not be necessary. The wounds will be gone by tomorrow, and until then they serve as a useful reminder that I am not invulnerable. Paul: how do you plan on convincing our countrywomen to change the habits of three thousand years?"

"Wait until next September? Once the births start I don't think it'll be all that hard to convince people that I'm on the right track. Until then, I still think that increasing familiarity is the way to go. We need more arcane smiths anyway."

Io nods. "I have had three present themselves to me for training, though it will be months before they are ready."

I nod. "But… Then they'd either have to come here or we'd have to set up a modern foundry on Themyscira annnd I know that's a non-starter. We could trade suits to the guard in exchange for letting us sell some here. That just requires me to convince Philippus, and I should be able to do that."

Io looks thoughtful. "Perhaps if we focused more on the mithril type instead? The weight of orichalcum might be more difficult for those who do not share the Princess' strength and stamina. The guard does not use it and the metal is generally considered inferior for weaponry."

"Maybe some of your senators could visit us here?" Ted looks around the workshop. "We do sometimes show politicians around when we're competing for major orders. Io got pretty excited when she saw what we'd be working with-."

"Theodore!" Io glares at him indignantly.

"You did. And Paul.. said most Amazons have tried just about every profession sometime. Maybe it'll work for them?"

Diana nods in approval. "I am glad that you have it so well in hand."