Young Justice Plus

WyldCard4 · Mar 10, 2015

OP Edited:

Author's Note: This quest is not your usual or standard game. It is set in an alternate universe of the Earth 16 DC Universe (aka Young Justice, the television series). A core premise of the game is that it is heavy on the mystery. The details of the protagonist and the universe itself, as well as the backstories, desires, and aims of those within are not immediately revealed. As the game progresses one of the goals of you the players will be to unravel the mystery surrounding everything. In this way I hope to keep the narrative original and interactive in a way that cannot be easily metagamed, contrary to the majority of similar quests.

This quest has an IRC channel #YJ+ on freenode for speculation and discussion.

Star City-
July 4, 08:55 PDT

Star City.

You rest your head on the seat and look out the window. The morning sunlight plays beautifully across the Pacific Ocean as the car moves slowly along the bridge. The girl, model pretty, who picked you up is talking enthusiastically.

"...so my dad's been like, super depressed ever since. I keep saying he needs to get out of the city. He's like really racist so I think if he's not changed by now he should just move somewhere without black people for him to rant about. Also, living in a crappy apartment in the Glades can't be good for him. He needs to be out in the country like Mom, but he insists he needs to be here so he can work on his..."

"What is that?" You ask as cars start swerving and screeching all around you.

"Holy cow!" The girl, Laura or Ashley or something, slams on her breaks and stops the car safely. The horrible sound to the rear of the car told you that incredibly ugly Jeep that had been following you for the last half hour had not been so well driven.

"Haha!" A cheerful laugh cuts over the sounds of chaos. The next noise is far worse and far closer, as the car door is ripped right off.

"Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses..." People had been praying a lot lately. You wondered if they were getting used to being saved, or if they wanted to be saved from what was happening. You grab the taller girl's hand and pull her out of the car.

"Hostages!" The same voice that had cut through the crowd crows with delight! "You two aren't going anywhere." You look up at the threat. A man, or maybe boy, appears to be made of ice, or wearing some ice armor with blue skin, or simply resembles ice. Laura, no Ashley, or was it Laura, begins to get to the ground.

"No, don't babe. Please, don't be scared." The supervillain gives a smile that looks genuinely nice to Laura/Ashley. "I'm just getting some attention. I promise I won't hurt you. But if I have to get some hostages, you two are the ones I want to be spending time with." You give him a soft half smile.

"Why are you doing this?" You ask, your eyes on the man's face.

"It's awesome. I have this mission, a really important one and I need to, well, it's a secret." He flashes you a smile and fires a spray of ice, stopping an out of control car that had almost gone over the edge of the bridge.

"If you don't want to hurt anyone, why are you doing all of this?" You glance over to Ashley/Lauren, who is shaking.

"My father, he's the big man up in Dreamland. He was a legend before that bi-, um, girl, woman, took him in." You are mildly amazed that someone like this was seriously considering how sexist his language was because he was trying to flirt with you.

"So you want to be taken up there, just like your father? Lose all you could have here with all this power?" You gesture at the bridge.

"Not for long," He winks at you. "Now if you could give me your digits, we do get phone calls in..." A set of arrows hit him and he howls, falling back.

Superheroes.

Two of Star City's finest, Green Arrow and Speedy. Speedy had been a superhero for three years, and Green Arrow for four. The two moved quickly, very quickly for humans. You wonder briefly how human they really are, but then the arrows explode. The question is irrelevant.

A tackle from Laura, probably Laura, takes you down. No one had tried to protect you in a long time.

"...better not interfere today." You hear as the heroes hit the ground near you.

"Calm down. She's still going to like you even if this takes all day." You hear a grunt of frustration and the twang of arrows as you position yourself, and then a shriek of pain.

"Gah!" The ice man is on his knees. Speedy and Green Arrow move away from each other, racing along walls of ice.

[X] In a flash, you decide to help the ice man. He had been nice, he liked you, he wanted to impress you. That was more than could be said of a lot of people.

[X] You focus on the young villain, and attack. It had been too long since you had a fight. He had kidnapped you, scared a girl who helped you, and really messed with your day.

[X] You stand up and usher your "protector" to safety. You can let the heroes and villains fight this out. The heroes seemed to have things well in hand.

WyldCard4 · Mar 11, 2015

Star City-
July 4, 09:02 PDT

[X] You stand up and usher your "protector" to safety. You can let the heroes and villains fight this out. The heroes seemed to have things well in hand.

The battle is over by the time you turn around. Emergency workers are moving in from both sides of the bridge. Green Arrow is standing near the supervillain with a smile on his face, in contrast to the annoyed look of his partner. Speedy moves rapidly, placing or firing arrows into the occasional position to flashes of fire, yellow foam, and wires.

"What is he doing?" Ashley/Laura asks. "What is he doing, what is he doing?" Shock, or something like shock.

"He's trained for this. He's making sure everyone is okay. See, there he is stabilizing a car with that arrow. This is what they do, Laura." She laughs in a soft, stressed way.

"My name is Spencer." You smile back at her. "I'm sorry. I have been on the road a lot lately."

"No problem," Spencer mutters. "It's, it's..." You let her trail off.

"You are just visiting your dad in Star City," You remember.

"Yeah." She nods. "It's just, what was that. Who does that kind of thing? Just attacks a bridge for, for what?" She shakes her head.

"He's crazy." You dismiss him. After losing so easily he had stopped mattering to you. "If he wasn't crazy he wouldn't try to be a supervillain."

"Supervillain. Those freaks out in L.A. or Kansas, and then they're here. First it was terrorists and now it's them. I'm so tired of this." Spencer looks up. "Shouldn't we, you know, help?" You consider the idea.

"If anyone was in serious danger the heroes would be doing something. If we move the wrong person before the EMTs and firefighters get here it could hurt them." You want to bolt, get out of here before anyone else arrives, but that would be suspicious. The villain had grabbed you, talked to you. If anything had picked that up and you ran it could look very, very bad.

"Miss?" You look up and see Speedy standing near you. "Are you two okay?"

"We're fine," You answer.

"Would you mind answering a few questions for the police when they come?"" You nod. "Sure, sir."

"Don't call me sir. Any other day we would be staying, but there's important business to take care of. We might be seeing you." Speedy walks away, back to his mentor, superior officer, father, or whatever Green Arrow was to him.

"He's not what I expected," Spencer said quietly. "I've never met one of them before."

"I never thought much about sidekicks," You admit. "Partner!" Speedy shouts and you jolt. His hearing had to be excellent to hear that.

Star City-
July 4, 10:45 PDT

Just let this be over. Just let this be over.

The police station was crowded and dirty. Spencer sat next to you, snoring softly. The snores reminded you of, well, it's not home anymore.

Running is what you did. Running to and running from, it was how it had always worked. Pack up when something goes wrong, or get help, get to safety. It had kept you alive this long.

You were going to have to give the cops a name. Something simple, easy to remember, but new.

You wondered if you would have given the ice man a phone number if you had the chance. You wonder if you should have talked to the heroes, asked to go with them.

"Miss?" A woman in plain clothes, probably a detective, beckons towards you. You get up and head to follow her.

"Stop right there young lady!" A complete stranger in a business suit is walking towards you with purpose. "I apologize ma'am, but her father doesn't want her talking to the police without me." Father?

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The detective frowns at the man.

"I'm her lawyer," He replied. "Holland Lewis. I apologize, but her father really is very..."

"Fine, fine. You two can talk in there," The detective opens a door and ushers us inside. "Miss Smith?" She asks Spencer.

"Who are you?" I ask softly of "Holland Lewis." He smiles.

"I am merely an interested party taking your case. We recognized your face on the news and sent help immediately. You probably don't know this but your family has a history with my firm." You nod cautiously, wishing that this was more helpful.

"What case? I've done nothing wrong. I was taken hostage by a maniac." Mr. Lewis smiles.

"Well if you have done nothing wrong than you wouldn't mind at all being interviewed, though I would prefer to be present to assist you in the interview. The name you give will be in records, attached to your face and a supervillain." You keep yourself from shuddering.

"What are you offering?" Mr. Lewis smiles widely and opens his briefcase, handing you a photograph of a woman who looks very much like you. "Miss Littleton is a woman in Sydney, Australia, who is about to be very grateful for a charitable donation that will keep her mother on life support. She will be on vacation in Star City for a very unfortunate incident and if it ever comes up, have a very good story to tell anyone who is curious. You, on the other hand, will have had an interview with a police detective under this name and no connections to this case."

"What do you want from me?" There was no point to not being direct with this.

"You are going to take my card," He answers. "If you are ever in trouble again you may call us for help, and we will come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. It is hard in this world to be without friends. We are here to help." The card had left his wallet and he slid it across the table.

"And if I go in without you?" Mr. Lewis gives another smile, a somewhat sad one.

"If you have nothing to hide, then nothing will come of it. Perhaps a reporter or investigator will come across this, but would that be so bad? Miss Littleton of course would not be contacted and would soon be attending a funeral.

You stare at the card and read it carefully.

[X] "Yes." You take the card. "Thank you." You could just go, and no one would have to know you were ever here.

[X] "Your services are not required." You smiled at him, got up, and walked out the door. All you needed to do is get through this.

[X] "I'm sorry, but I think I'm going to want an actual lawyer." Whatever this man was, whatever he was doing, you were going to want someone on your side, someone to go over options with.

WyldCard4 · Mar 12, 2015

[X] "Yes." You take the card. "Thank you." You could just go, and no one would have to know you were ever here.

Star City-
July 4, 10:49 PDT

On the back is a simple number. 1-800-555-6666, and a list of addresses for each of the listed branches.

"What if I want to contact you without a phone?" You ask the lawyer.

"We're in the phone book, any of those cities, or you could search for us online."

You pause for a second and look down at the woman's picture. She does look an awful lot like you.

"Don't mess with her, okay? If you do that, we're done." You pause for a moment and think of the girl who almost saved you, but it would be too risky to see her again.

"I believe we are almost done here, Ms. Littleton. Now, remember to be honest. You were here to interview a couple who wished to remain anonymous. You were very confused and think you hit your head a bit when you were saved from danger by the brave miss Spencer Smith, but you are sure you will be fine once you lie down a bit and have no need to go to the hospital. You remember a lot of shouting from Icicle Jr. as he held you hostage, but you cannot remember specifics. Now repeat what I said back to me..."

The conversation is quick. You have always been a good actress, and the lines are easy enough. You put on a troubled, out of it expression on your face and are out of the station in two and a half hours.

Star City-
July 4, 13:33 PDT

Icicle Junior's little act of domestic terrorism hadn't even made the national news outside of a brief headline of a set of ice villains launching coordinated attacks around the country. Gotham City was the only one with fatalities, according to the coffee shop buzz. Two amazingly pretty blondes dressed expensively enough for you to hate them are discussing the attacks in serious towns.

"Of course it was coordinated with him. He was trying to blot out the sun. It was related. Who else is going to thrive in the cold? They were going to be his followers and help him rule the world." The quiet, firm, gentle voice was without a hint of doubt.

"I don't think so. None of the ice villains are even magical. A pantheon of scientists to restart, maybe, but why send them for an attack then instead of building up. You don't last this long and get the Amulet of Aten without being smart." This one was softer, drinking from a much larger cup of coffee and sounding like this was not her first large cup.

Someone had tried to black out the sun while you were answering questions from people who thought a college degree and a few decades of experience made them forces to be reckoned with. You sip the coffee thoughtfully, you'll need more money soon. Right now a hotel is probably not even a good idea, and doing anything that could draw attention today is just asking for trouble.

Wolfram and Hart's card is in your pocket, but that is not something you should be burning so soon.

Five years ago a discussion of current events would not have touched on the Justice League. Now that was nearly impossible.

"Alicia, please, this was an apocalypse play like Braniac or the L.A. thing. This was a kill everyone one-oh-one, not a world conquest bid." You people watch silently, examining body language. You had done this as long as you could remember, peering into other families, other daughters, other lives.

"No one that crazy would have lasted this long. Believe me, it doesn't work that way." What was apparently Alicia leaned towards the other woman, and you noticed not-Alicia shrink back just a bit.

"Damn it, sorry, buzz time," She lifts up a phone. "Ah, just who I wanted to hear from. Wait, you're what? No, no, don't hang up on me young lady..."

You carefully move back to your frappé with strawberries and don't even notice Alicia taking a seat next to you.

"Do you come here often?" You wonder briefly if you are being hit on. Seconds later her hands are folded neatly on the table and you spy a neat, simple wedding ring.

"No, I'm just visiting, actually." You give her a soft smile.

"Me too. We go way back," Alicia gestured to the apparently panicked woman who is talking fast enough to draw stares. "I'm so sorry I bothered you, but you wouldn't believe some of the things that happen in this city. I just wanted to make sure you seemed alright." You can't help but laugh.

"I'm not going to rob you or anything. I wouldn't want to miss the flight home." She chuckles softly, and it sounds just a little fake.

"We're going, now." Alicia's friend puts a hand on her shoulder and gestures at the bathroom. "Bridezilla is going nuts right now. Something she is very clear is not cold feet. I think Claire's not picking up? I don't know, I could barely figure out what was going on over the phone."

"It was nice meeting you..." You call after them as they disappear into the bathroom. You finish off your frappe, wash it down with a cherry coke with lime, and leave a tip that you can't convince yourself is big enough out on the table as you think over the issue of money.

It's several minutes before you realize the women had left a purse in a seat next to you. The purse is expensive in a way that screams "they won't miss it" and a nice, tempting smartphone is in your line of sight. A quick move through the bathroom reveals they must have slipped out without you noticing.

Interesting.

[X] You take out the phone and swipe it, revealing a complete lack of password protection. You head to her recent calls and notice an "IICE-Husband" taking up half her recent calls, all of them incoming. Time to tell someone about a lost phone.

[X] You put the purse over your arm and walk out of the shop with a smile. There had to be a pawn shop or something nearby, probably cash in the purse, maybe credit cards? That was one problem solved. All you had to do was take care of the phone.

[X] It would be best if no one remembered you were here. You slip out and are on your way to absolutely nowhere. There is a freedom in that.

WyldCard4 · Mar 13, 2015

[X] You put the purse over your arm and walk out of the shop with a smile. There had to be a pawn shop or something nearby, probably cash in the purse, maybe credit cards? That was one problem solved. All you had to do was take care of the phone.

Star City-
July 4, 18:02 PDT

$43.03 in cash, one expensive bracelet and small bag of groceries paid for with a credit card, and two small ornate lead boxes containing something that looked like a blue college graduation ring and what looked like a homemade necklace of blue beads, little metal beads, and five small red gems.

You felt mildly guilty, looking at the low end jewelry, but you couldn't think of a way to get them back to Alicia without running a risk. Maybe you will just leave them somewhere and hope they get back to her. You pocket them for now.

That was the haul, outside of the phone and bag, which together were probably worth a good deal more than the bracelet hidden in your pocket.

Tomorrow you would pawn the necklace and the bag, then buy a bus ticket in cash, heading north. You had been finding places that paid cash for shady things like this almost as long as you could remember.

In the alley behind the hotel you kneel down and focus on the street, making it unfold, part itself for just long enough to slip the items you got, the cash, and a few personal effects into the hole. Once you are all done the only sign of what you did is just a little more loose dirt in an already dirty alleyway.

North was good. Up to Canada, maybe Alaska, or just Washington or Oregon. It didn't really matter, just somewhere nice and out of the way. You were going somewhere safe from your old "friends" and the police and those assholes back home. Somewhere where you were just the girl down the street, or maybe out in a cabin.

You had fallen a long way from last year.

The room has a Bible and an issue of the Star City Register from last January. The cover story is a band of criminals who had attacked the local police precinct. The level of vagueness in how they were stopped reminds you of some headlines you had read back in New Mexico, which makes you smile. Superheroes had touched down, but no one involved had wanted to say it. Maybe supervillains instead? Green Arrow and Speedy had been out for years in Star City, but maybe there was something about the encounter that made no one want to admit they had helped. Perhaps it was just a rival gang that had saved the day and a less honest press or police department than Boston.

You are into the paper's strangely extensive society pages and bored with speculation of Oliver Queen's possibly cheating on his wife with a reporter from Kansas (the paper apparently had decided Oliver was secretly gay due to not yet having had children, which struck you as gross on a number of levels) before you hear a thud outside and look out your window into the back alley.

''...and we're stuck here while the League is off ignoring us," The voice is worryingly familiar and right out your window, not taking any care to be quiet. Green Arrow and Speedy could always be quiet when they wanted to be. You risk a glance outside, and it is a smaller figure besides Speedy who seems to have failed her jump off the roof. Speedy is helping her up and she is dusting herself off.

"Why did you think roof running was better than taking a cab?" The smaller figure is young, female, and sounds very annoyed.

"You told me you wanted training. This is training." Speedy looks away, ignoring her. "Speedy to Watchtower, we are at the last known GPS point." GPS? You'd turned the phone completely off two blocks from the coffee shop.

You move in, take the jewelry out of your pocket, and put your hand over the floor, letting it melt into the faux-wood until there is no trace of it.

There were always stories of superheroes leaping into the pettiest of shit. Superman, back when he was The Blur, had broken steroid rings and fences. Red Witch had spent a year smashing US drug rings trying to bleed out the Cartels. But of all the dumb luck...

There's a huge screeching outside. Looking out you see Speedy and his companion standing back, and catch a view of his companion. Brown hair, wearing a hoodie and domino mask along with a strange backpack with a rope swinging from it. You didn't recognize New Girl. The crash had come from Speedy shooting down a fire escape for some reason. You can't hear them from this distance, but Speedy and New Girl appear to be arguing heatedly.

You head back and head down the hall, into the bathroom. Not even having a bathroom in your room seemed weird, but you were not in a position to be picky. Hopefully they would leave while you waited in the bathroom stall.

You see a silhouette in the green glass window when you get out of the stall fifteen minutes after you get in. Too much longer would be suspicious by itself. Leaving through the window would definitely be a bad idea with someone watching. Speedy is alone, leaning against the wall when you get out,

"Twice in one day, ma'am. I don't believe we've been formally introduced. May I ask your name?"

[X] "It's (write in), sir." Just get through this. Just get through this and run.

[X] "It's..." You can't afford to get caught now.

Subvotes:

-[X] You pull out a trick you haven't used in a while, and walk past him as he stares at where you were, seeing a fidgety, confused young woman and very much not seeing that woman walking away.
-[X] You raise your hand and and step forward, smiling, as you start talking. His bow collapses, and a moment later you're hitting him in the head before he has time to react.

[X] "It's Ms. Littleton. Do you mind if I call my lawyer?" You give Speedy a smile. Cashing in that favor so soon was bad, but better than being alone for this.

WyldCard4 · Mar 13, 2015

OP Edited:

Author's Note: This quest is not your usual or standard game. It is set in an alternate universe of the Earth 16 DC Universe (aka Young Justice, the television series). A core premise of the game is that it is heavy on the mystery. The details of the protagonist and the universe itself, as well as the backstories, desires, and aims of those within are not immediately revealed. As the game progresses one of the goals of you the players will be to unravel the mystery surrounding everything. In this way I hope to keep the narrative original and interactive in a way that cannot be easily metagamed, contrary to the majority of similar quests.

WyldCard4 · Mar 14, 2015

[X] It's... You can't afford to get caught now.
-[X] You raise your hand and and step forward, smiling, as you start talking. His bow collapses, and a moment later you're hitting him in the head before he has time to react.

Star City-
July 4, 18:21 PDT

Speedy screams, rolling down with the punch. As he rolls his legs kick out and your legs fall out from under you. Your eyes are on the ceiling as you prepare for a punch or kick that doesn't come. When you get up the bathroom window is breaking from the sound of it.

Archers fighting an unknown super, it makes sense to attack from a distance, especially with your demonstration of close ranged powers. That has to come from training or experience.

Avoid the windows, avoid going out in the open. If he can engage you outside of close range you are probably doomed, powers or no powers. He lost his bow, but the new girl is probably another archer. Probably, didn't Green Arrow have a reputation for picking up strays, help found the League?

You have to know more about Speedy than he knows about you. But his partner could be just about anything. A Skin, a magic user, a robot, any of the freaks in the League or something entirely different.

You need to engage in close quarters, and you need to engage fast. This has to be over before backup is involved. You can't chase him, so you need to lure him in.

The alley is tempting. Narrow, closer quarters, and limited avenues of attack, but there is a good chance he prepared the area. You aren't invincible, and he had time, way too much time for anywhere to be safe. He could have prepared any of the exits, so you need to make your own way out. Taking hostages is dangerous, especially if the police show up.

You don't have enough time to plan this out. There are two logical exits, the alley and the street. The alley could have been prepared, but the street would leave you very open...

It has to be the alley. It's bad, but it keeps leading back to that. You head back into the bathroom and through the window Speedy had ran through. Neither hero is outside as far as you can tell. The fire escape is still down there, of course. Maybe he was trying to prevent a roof escape?

Looking out there, you focus on an image of yourself walking out into the alley, surrounded in flames that don't burn her. Might as well confuse as much as you can. A second later you change the image's face. Make you seem like you're not alone, or shape shifting, that has to be good.

A pressure hits your head a second later. It doesn't hurt, doesn't do anything, but it's scary. You've never felt anything like it. Some kind of strange backup weapon, were you drugged somehow?

"Lower the flames." The voice from earlier, the new girl. Commanding, the pressure increases. "Lower the flames and get on the ground."

Are you dealing with someone who has mind control?

The illusion takes a moment for you to get closer, and lowers the flames, gets down on the ground. An arrow swings forward, not the usual speed, thrown from the looks of it, and a yellow foam erupts out.

You hear a vague shout, and Speedy leaps on top of a nearby dumpster, another arrow in his hand, glaring down at the fake you.

"Talk." The telepath says. "Who are you working for?"

You hold out your hand and make a wave of containment foam that splashes forward. Speedy jumps away too quickly for you to catch him. Your illusion vanishes as your concentration breaks to do that. Speedy is hanging off two arrows embedded into the side of the building.

"Speedy to Watchtower, bypassed containment foam, telekinetic. Possibly telepathic."

Your field of vision is too constrained from in here, but going out in the open is a worse idea. You begin to stretch the "containment foam" over the ground of the alley. It seems to just keep expanding, from the arrow and from where it ruptures, the ground is nearly covered.

Speedy is out of your sight by the time you're done.

He probably doesn't want to touch the ground now, and that should make him vulnerable to a fall if he keeps to the roofs and walls. His telepath probably lacks telekinesis, flight, or similar physical power from the sound of it.

Then an arrow is in front of you, spraying some kind of gas. It takes a second to melt it, but you've been kicked in the head by then. You roll one way and an illusion rolls the other way. Speedy falls onto the illusion, another arrow in his hand spraying the same awful gas in "your" face.

The burst of air that sends the gas into his face causes him to smash his fist down into what he feels is the floor.

You are feeling very woozy at this point, from the kick in the head and maybe the gas and the landing on the floor. That is probably why the electric arrow Speedy throws at you hits. It takes a bit of howling before it falls off.

You love being better than a human sometimes. Most of the time. Speedy is collapsed in the cloud of gas, and you are safe. You think.

You thought he would be a lot weaker without that bow, but he still fell.

You look out into the alley and behind you. No sign of the unknown telepath.

[X] You move forward and stand by Speedy. It is time to take a hostage. You can't trust that you can escape under these conditions.

[X] You rush out into the alley. You can't have an unknown heroine on the scene, you need to catch her before she can track back and catch you.

[X] You leave Speedy and head out to the front exit. Time to leave. Escape takes priority over anything else.

And:

[X] You grab the quiver and heft it over your shoulder. Speedy had good things in there. You might need them, or be able to sell them, or something.

[X] You melt the arrows down into a kind of slag. Best not to leave Speedy armed, even when unconscious.

WyldCard4 · Mar 16, 2015

[X] You rush out into the alley. You can't have an unknown heroine on the scene, you need to catch her before she can track back and catch you.
[X] You melt the arrows down into a kind of slag. Best not to leave Speedy armed, even when unconscious.

Star City-
July 4, 18:28 PDT

God this is bad. This it the League. Green Lantern, Buffy Summers, Superman, Red Tornado, and that's before they get creative.

Moving out into the alley, keeping foam from trapping you, the girl is not in sight.

Now if I were a newbie heroine out for a first patrol with Speedy where would I be? She had never entered your field of vision, and Speedy had made a move to cut off a roof escape.

Damn, this was going to be exhausting. You raise your hands and a set of stairs jut out from the side of the building one at a time. You begin the climb, and when you reach the end you turn slowly around and open up another set.

She waits until you're almost at the top before you hear a faint whir on the other side of the building. New Girl's contraption, whatever Speedy had given her, was much faster than your attempt at a controlled slide down.

You find, to your surprise, that she had not used a trick arrow to fall down, but some other climbing device. No obvious signs of how to track her down, this would be difficult.

The arrow misses you by a yard, blazing electricity into the ground.

You close your eyes and listen. If she is nearby, still trying to fight, you might be able to hear her. It takes a second to get into the right mode.

"Lambada to Watchtower. I am on the move. Really, even Cl-, Delta? Roger."

She's not Speedy fast, but she is running like hell, and you know the direction. It takes a second to jolt out and start running.

"Lambada" is running down the street, and there are people here. Would the League have called out cops, the National Guard, whatever else? A busy street is bad enough.

Stares are bad. Memories in their heads, faces in security cameras, shoe prints and whatever else CSI and Green Lantern can pick up. This is so bad.

20 feet away, she wheels back on herself. "I know you're there. I can hear you. I'm warning you, one last chance! Just put the Meteor Rock on the ground."

"The what!?" You shout after her.

"Blue ring, red necklace. Put it on the ground and you can go. Or just tell us who you gave it to."

"That's what this is about?" You pull the necklace from your pocket and wave it at her. "What does it do?"

"Nothing good." The psychic pressure hits again, and it feels like you're going deaf. "It's Smallville Meteor Rock. It drives you crazy, makes you sick, gives the worst superpowers I've ever heard of. That stuff is worse than krokodil. If you sell that or use it people will die."

"And that's why you're trying to mindwarp me into giving it to you?" You step forward, and take another step forward when she doesn't flinch away.

"Yes. People who get infected go up to Alaska." You shudder and take another step forward. "It's the safest place for them. There is no cure."

"And that's why it was just lying in some woman's purse for me to snatch?" The rookie super flinches.

"In lead. Her job is to..." You cut her off.

"Stop that thing!" You step forward. "It hurts."

"Oh. Are you going to give it up?" She steps forward.

"Well..."

PAIN.

Nerve endings firing, your face is wet, there's nothing but this silence.

"Stop it! You're hurting me!"

"If you had come with us, if Speedy had knocked you out with those arrows, if you let me in, then we wouldn't be in this situation. Now put the Meteor Rock on the ground and don't move." It feels like something in your head breaks and you raise a hand and then you shriek.

The pain is gone, and it wasn't you who shrieked.

She's bleeding, fast. A couple of years ago she'd be dead or something but now, but still, Jesus.

There are people all around. Someone has to have called for special crimes, EMTs have to be on their way.

Help me. The command hits your brain. Fear, pain, panic. Your face is still wet, has to be a bloody nose. Those things happen with telepaths, right?

She is walking in a field, the sun on her face. You had never done much trying to take pain away with an illusion before.

You look back and see the necklace, Meteor Rock if she's telling the truth, is covered in your blood.

Everyone had heard stories of Smallville. The unexplained murders, two Meteor Showers, Wall of Weird by Clark Kent and Chloe Sullivan. Superman was the only good thing you'd ever heard came out of Smallville.

People would pay a lot of money for Meteor Rock, and probably get themselves killed.

You hear sirens, a lot of sirens.

[X] You turn your pockets inside out and run. Nothing good will come from this. Just get out, now.

[X] You grab the necklace from the ground, check your pocket for the ring, and bolt. You didn't come all this way for nothing...

[X] "God help me..." You take off your shirt and wrap it around the heroine's head. If you leave a corpse like her than they'll never stop hunting you, even though she'll probably be fine. Probably. You need to do something, stop the bleeding, explain...

WyldCard4 · Mar 17, 2015

[X] You turn your pockets inside out and run. Nothing good will come from this. Just get out, now.

North Cow Mountain Recreation Area- July 5, 01:18 PDT

God, no internet sucks. No way of knowing what is in the news, looking up places to go. When the Darknet was killed the internet became less useful, but it was still a lifeline. No WiFi here, in the "17 mile network of foot trails beckoning to the adventurous spirit."

Always, always have somewhere out of the urban environment nearby to run to. A stolen car, buried along the side of the road without a trace, color changed from blue to red and license plate changed to a couple of random letters and numbers, was hopefully the only sign of where you went.

You are bad at shape shifting. Forehead, ears, hair, clothes, fingerprints. It was going to hurt and take all night.

"Distance between the eyes, width of the nose, depth of the eye sockets, the shape of the cheekbones, the length of the jaw line. The program is sophisticated, too sophisticated for them. They must have had help."

You don't even know where to begin. You were supposed to have time to master all of this.

"Fingerprint, palm veins, face recognition, DNA, palm print, hand geometry, iris recognition, retina and scent."

Wikipedia could give you nightmares sometimes. How do you reconfigure the veins in your palms without ruining your hands? You were never supposed to do this alone.

Teeth too, right? Derrek Storm novels always talked about dental records.

You put your face in your hands. How many months can you spend hiding in the woods trying to figure out how to become someone new before floating up to Dreamland started to sound like a pretty good idea?

Oh no. You check your pockets, and of course, you lost the Wolfram and Hart card. Not that you were going to forget that phone number, but still.

Would the camp ground have a payphone or something?

It's cold. You miss New Mexico.

You really miss New Mexico.

It has been a very long day. Time to sleep.

North Cow Mountain Recreation Area- July 5, 10:56 PDT

There was a reason you chose this spot. Steep slopes are much, much easier for you to navigate than most people, and excellent for digging a small, natural looking cave to camp in.

The bug out bag and the backup bug out bag and the emergency bug out bag are in Star City, probably in CSI labs and evidence lockers by now.

You went from the girl with short platinum blonde hair to the girl with long dark red hair to the girl with a black pixie cut in the last few months. The pixie cut does not look good on you.

The fire ring is so fast to prepare when you can use your powers, as is the fire itself. The hardest part of your breakfast was the meat, a variety of small birds, unidentified rodents, and what you think is an opossum. You probably can't get sick from this mess of stripped meat, hopefully.

It is probably not healthy to live off raw bird and rodent meat for too long, but that had never mattered before.

It is fun, experimenting with wood and leaves and fur and dirt and rock to make your new little cave cozy. You spend a lot of time trying to make a ventilated window that allows you to sleep without a cave opening, but you can never quite convince yourself you won't suffocate. Your head can rest on a nice patch of fur that looks like a pillow, the rest of you looking buried, a long sheet of very fake moss covering your face. It seems unlikely that anyone will step on you when you sleep.

North Cow Mountain Recreation Area- July 8, 14:22 PDT

Camping alone without a computer, a phone, a book, a TV, or anything but your clothes, nature, and a travel map is really, really boring.

You tried hiking, power experimentation, and everything else you could think of, but you're going slowly insane. You're starting to miss everywhere you've ever been, every asshole who you should never have called a friend.

This cannot go on.

[X] You just need a phone. Wolfram and Hart can get you out of this mess. They are players, real ones. All you really need is a lawyer.

[X] You can head north. Stick to the old plan, just be more quiet about it. You can find somewhere small and quiet, somewhere nowhere near as boring.

[X] If you are going to make it in this life than you need real friends, not lawyers. On that bridge you had met another supervillain. They do get phone calls. If anyone can give you a plan it is Icicle Jr.

WyldCard4 · Mar 18, 2015

[X] If you are going to make it in this life than you need real friends, not lawyers. On that bridge you had met another supervillain. They do get phone calls. If anyone can give you a plan it is Icicle Jr

McKinleyville- July 5, 17:04 PDT

The library is some ancient building that looks older than Abin Sur. The elevator was probably added sometime after the government realized handicapped people were a thing. For what very little it is worth, you avoid using the elevator under the assumption it probably has a camera.

Star City was a footnote under the storm of news reports. It had been another of those "rough weeks" that the president would need a speech about. It had been just over three years since Project Ares, and the United States was mind controlling Superman's genetically altered baby son. The usual suspects had fallen along the traditional battle lines of incompetence, secrecy, conspiracy, and enemy action in the media. Attempted murder of sidekicks, slavery, mind control, and hacking Martian DRM.

One would think after the Company, and the Special Unit, and the destroyed army of dead soldiers pumped full of alien DNA in meteor rocks the good old USG would have seriously cleaned house, but no. No wonder the UNSC had let Green Lantern make the Justice League with those as the people supposed to defend Earth.

That was not the biggest news story. A supervillain who called himself, or herself, Wotan had attempted to do something that had involved blocking out the sun across the entire Eastern Standard Timezone, summoning something that had taken Green Lantern 15 hours of nonstop fighting to subdue, and Wotan themself had apparently switched bodies with Superman.

According to a League statement, Wotan was locked in a Green Lantern "sciencell" and there was no one else sentient to interrogate, so yet again the media was left to ramble on about the consequences and speculate endlessly.

You hadn't even made much of a headline in Star City. A few paragraphs about "a young superhuman of unknown name, nature, and origin" attacking "a young metahuman whose personal information is withheld due to privacy concerns."

Your defeat of Speedy wasn't even mentioned. "A young superhuman?" You are insulted.

The article spends more time talking about Martian medical tech allowing for her face to be repaired with six shots than it does about the fight.

The Star City Register is controlled by the Justice League. You sit there, scared. Of course the Justice League had influence, but could they do that? You head to Wikipedia to look up their charter, and the answer is vague. When Abin Sur died and Earth's successor was taken to Oa for training his secretive partner, Green Lantern 2814-b, had requested the permission to take on deputies from the UN so he could keep to his duties elsewhere in our Sector. Wikipedia has a picture of the founding members of the League standing with Earth's Green Lanterns.

The charter is vague and broad. When the United Nations was founded, they'd given the Green Lanterns police powers over international law, enforcing the laws of member nations in their territory, and general legal terms you don't understand so the Green Lanterns could do their jobs. Nothing that anyone who was alive during the Battle of Nanjing wouldn't have remembered to put in their charter.

The Justice League could act as members of any legitimate law enforcement agency, and any legitimate law enforcement agency would assist them, accept their help and advice, and counsel them if the League appeared to be making mistakes.

The fear begins to subside a bit as you start to think more clearly. Not many people had seen or heard what happened. Even if the reporter who wrote the story knew everything, why wouldn't you not mention some embarrassing details if a Green Lantern's deputy made the request?

The Justice League wouldn't need to own the Star City Register for this to happen.

The Justice League's website had the same list of superheroes and affiliated organizations that were on the page the last time you checked, with the usual vague references to metahuman training programs and a computer program to help you figure out who you should actually call if you have a problem instead of the Justice League.

That program guides you to the phone number for Dreamland and a link to their website. This call was going to be traced, so you go over the Dreamland privacy policy (which is that you have none if you call them) and a bit on the prison itself.

"The Dreaming Prison" is located in a secret location usually guessed to be an island in Alaska. Superman had started it back when he was The Blur in 2001 to hold Meteor Freaks in Smallville. Access to the facility had been requested by multiple governments due to war criminals and supervillains who could not be safely contained, and the facility had swollen in the past few years as an alternative to less humane methods of control. Supplies and prisoners were delivered by Green Lantern herself or "2814-b" with occasional trips by boat or another League member when neither one was available. Superman had stepped down as the warden in 2007 to an unnamed successor who had sparked an impressive set of conspiracy theories. You don't need to check the League's answer for why the warden was unnamed on their website, it was always security concerns.

There are 198 proven high level assassinations since 1989. Judges and presidents, superheroes and CEOs. The League doesn't want that list growing at all, much less including their friends. That isn't even including the Ciara War, when metahumans were being tracked to their homes and murdered daily.

The prison roster is mostly boring. A third are from Smallville, and half of the rest are the usual collection of gang leaders, war criminals, and former dictators who had either requested asylum in or been remanded to the custody of Dreamland.

Icicle Junior, or "Cameron Mahkent" was one of the newest "residents" of Dreamland. Interestingly, he is rated with an 88% chance of being released. No murder charges or anything on that level, not like his father. Icicle Senior was a bad, bad man. Sociopath, mass murderer, European gang leader, and genius inventor behind modern refrigeration tech. Modern container ships would be impossible without Dr. Joar Mahkent's inventions making pykrete ships practical. Too bad it needs blue Meteor Rock, which explains his son, and arguably the good doctor's mental problems. God, you got far too close to that stuff back in Star City.

Time to make a phone call.

"Hey gorgeous!" The voice is excited. "This has never happened to me before. Like, you called me! This is so much better than Sophomore Homecoming!" You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"I kicked Speedy's ass for you, later," You tell Icicle Jr. There's a long silence on the end of the line.

"Are you for real?" The tone is reverent. He's adorable.

"You said you wanted in, so I didn't intervene on the bridge," You lie. "But they were just so rude. What else was I to do?"

"You. Have. Superpowers!" This is awesome. Man, Dad won't believe this! All the chicks in here are just scary, but a girl with powers on the outside?" You feel a tad objectified.

"I'm wondering, basically, how to get into the Biz." You drawl a bit, just because it's fun. "You know, the supervillain biz." Cameron laughs on the other end of the line.

"It's not like we have meetings, babe. I've met three in my life, counting my dad and not counting you. There's hardly any gangs left these days, since the Blur went to the FBI. There's no way they should have let him testify. The Supreme Court is broken. Anyway, what contacts are you looking for, exactly?"

"I knocked out one superhero and almost killed another one. I am not interested in prison, regular or Alaskan. Also, you can't just go making gold these days, you'd get laughed out of a pawn shop and shouted out of a jewelers. So..."

"You want to stay under the radar, make money, and not get caught. I think I know a guy for you out in Pennsylvania, the one who called me about this gig." Gig?

"That doesn't exactly sound encouraging." He laughs.

"Erie, Pennsylvania. Given, well, Molly's listening in I won't tell you more than that. But he's the real deal. He'll find you."

"Thank you, Cameron. Um, won't, you know, this 'Molly' call the police on me?" He laughs again.

"If you didn't already have an escape plan you wouldn't have called." You like this boy.

"Bye bye." You hang up and walk out. New car, new color, new details, new license plate. Time to drive.

[X] You're going to take a plane. Best not to give anyone time to track you down or notice behavior patterns. One big risk and you'll be in Pennsylvania.

[X] Cross country driving is risky, but what else could you do? You can change your car, no one will look for one like this. Tinted windows, a hat and hood, you should be fine.

[X] You are not looking forward to a cross country hike, but you're a supervillain. No one is going to find you this way.

WyldCard4 · Mar 19, 2015

[X] Cross country driving is risky, but what else could you do? You can change your car, no one will look for one like this. Tinted windows, a hat and hood, you should be fine.

Cheyenne, Wyoming- July 9, 09:22 MDT

It is good to be on the move again, back in "civilization." Say what you will about the United States, but their highway system is a wonder of the world. The American continent is huge, and they unified it, tamed it.

You lived here, once. Eighteen months in Wyoming's capital when the cool states had been used up. It was worth living in Wyoming to watch Francis E. Warren Air Force Base being shut down. Decades of Abin Sur and Red Tornado giving speeches had failed to motivate nuclear disarmament, but Dark Thursday had finally gotten it through to human meatbrains that having the ability to end human civilization was a bad thing.

The US Air Force had never been your favorite people.

You had needed somewhere to stop on the way, and you knew the city, so Cheyenne it was. You stop at a diner for a breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes smothered in butter and two different kinds of syrup.

The man in the corner has a medium build, rather severe features, and is not smiling. The short black facial hair makes him very much not your type, and he's too old for you. He is picking at bacon, toast, and sausage, and he is staring at you.

Don't run yet. That would be suspicious. He might call someone.

You enjoy your first real meal since lunch on the fourth. You can take him, he's just a random cape watcher, probably.

He gets up and leaves before you are finished. You don't tip when you pay for your meal this time, feeling bad about it but the waitress looks like her even if the uniform is completely different.

"Cape." The man is standing outside. His expression is hard to read.

"Is that a codename?" You laugh at him. "Do you dress up here and escort ladies back from bars? Or are you going to try and take me in."

"I don't make a habit of it, no. Did the League just attack you?" You smile. "It was a big misunderstanding. Would you expect Meteor Rock jewelry in a purse?"

"Nope." He falls in besides you as you walk to your car. "So they..."

"Sent a sidekick to investigate stolen Meteor Rock. Got a fight for their trouble. Do you want a fight?"

"That is what I am trying to avoid. Got a name?" You shake your head.

"Not for you." He looks vaguely disappointed. Then he gives a slight smirk, and there is a clap of thunder, moving him maybe ten feet to the right. Your eyes are hurting from the brightness.

"Oh." You blush. "I thought you were just a gawker who saw me on the news."

"You're the first person like us I've met," He replies. Interesting. You are still insulted. There is no us here.

"It's not random, you know. Chaos, destiny, a pull. This has all happened before, and will happen again." He scowls now.

"Destiny? There is no such thing." You laugh at him.

"I've seen it happen. A thousand different decisions could have set me off my path in life, and every one led me back home. If anything in this world is real, it is destiny."

"Home?" You reach your car, parked down the street in the hope of mild stealth. That hope was probably vain with this guy around. The Meteor Freak or whatever he is looks very, very annoyed.

"My home, not yours." His annoyance grows.

"Who are you?" The question rings out on the street.

"You first," You give him a gentle smile.

"Chain Lightning," He responds, a look of unmistakable pride in his eyes. You giggle.

"You make that one up yourself when you threw the Meteor Rocks and microwave in the bathtub?"

"Better than nothing, blondie." You laugh again.

"Ooh, good one. And it's brown. Just stalking me, or got a question?" He pauses.

"Got a team?" You shake your head. "Not anymore. That's what I am after." You guess that whoever is there would appreciate you a bit more if you bring them someone else. "I'm heading east. I know a guy who said to do that. He claimed there was a man there who was hiring, basically."

"Hiring for what?" Chain Lightning looks interested.

"No clue. Dreamland's phone lines are tapped. If I was higher priority they'd probably have police scanning the route. Heck, maybe they do." Chain's face looks worried again. "All I know is to go to Erie, Pennsylvania. Want a ride?" Chain Lightning's smirk is back.

"I'll race you there." He vanishes.

"Freak," You mutter under your breath, and pop the car door back open with a wave of your hand. Time to get moving.

Erie, Pennsylvania- July 11, 11:16 EDT

You haven't had a real shower in a week, you're getting hungry, it's too cold for July, and you can't figure out how to get the car's heater to work.

You also have no idea how you are supposed to meet this man. You don't want to get a hotel room in case he offers you something better. You've heard rumors that supervillains get paid really well, and if they want to court you...

The newspaper you stole from one of those open newspaper machines has a cover story on Green Lantern bringing an alien princess who dresses like a stripper to Earth.

Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran is beautiful. Dark, inhumanly orange skin, green eyes without whites larger than a human's, a head that is hidden under a long set of red 80's hair, with a strangely flat face.

She wears a shy smile in both of her pictures, one of her face and the other floating next to Green Lantern at a press conference. A mildly confused looking Superboy and a Superman trying not to laugh are in the picture as well.

Other news items are skimmed. Luthorcorp is on trial due to complicated legal shenanigans involving a "Lexcorp" that apparently existed mostly as a shield to legal liability. Chloe Sullivan was giving a book tour for Gods of War, her book on the Project Ares fiasco. Richard Castle's sequel to Heat Wave, Naked Heat, was apparently coming out in late September. There was another dockworkers strike over the new J'onzz Company ships. It was a mix of sensationalism and the expected, mostly.

"Miss Littleton, is it?" The British man who sits down next to you on the park bench gives off an air of unease. His smile is fake and mildly scary.

"Not really." You smile back. "You would be the person Cameron mentioned?" His smile grows wider.

"I merely know someone, and am paid a great deal of money to be discrete about who I know." He leans over you and investigates the paper. "How very noir of you, reading the paper in the park for a secretive meeting."

"I'm just a Derek Storm fan, Mr..." He laughs. "Nice try."

"We won't get very far without something to call each other. Even if you did steal some of my hair." He looks impressed.

"Not many people would have noticed that." You hadn't noticed anything. Criminals give fake names, wizards don't give names at all.

"I want money, a place to stay, and not having to watch my back for the League breathing down my neck." He nods.

"I can give all of that and more than you could possibly imagine. We supervillains need to stick together." You smile.

"You have no idea what I can imagine. I have seen things, I know things, I remember things. I'm not some little girl who just fell into a well and hit her head on a Meteor Rock." He laughs happily.

"So you're the one who told the newbie where I was. He doesn't like you very much." You nod. "I think you made a mistake. He is not one of the lesser ones. Mr. Someone was delighted by him." Interesting.

"Would Mr. Someone be delighted by me?" You jokingly bat your eyes at him. He is way, way too old for it not to be a joke.

"Well, a leptokinetic illusionist? I think he'd be ecstatic." His breath is hot on your cheek. You try not to show how impressed you are with that statement.

"What next?" You ask with only a mild sense of trepidation.

"We go home, Derek Storm fan. Follow me." You smile. "That is too much of a name, even a fake one." You liked them short and sweet.

"What would you suggest?"

[X] Write in.

WyldCard4 · Mar 20, 2015

[X] "Call me... 'Figment'."

Erie, Pennsylvania- July 11, 13:12 EDT

The motel room is among the scarier dwellings you have seen. Sets of strange clay masks cover the walls, mocking the faces of superheroes and supervillains you recognize. A wide variety of creepy, tribal looking sticks fill a small basket. The one table is covered with a creepy scrap book of things like hair, nail clippings, drops of blood, and photographs.

It is amazing how it barely bothers you after a shower and reheated leftovers for lunch.

"Cozy," You remark, gesturing at the paraphernalia.

"You should see my last apartment." He waves his hand. "I used to have far less savory items, but a stint in prison here, a breakout there, a trashed storage locker, and you end up needing to economize."

"What is it you do, exactly? As a supervillain." He shrugs.

"I go wherever the wind takes me. There is always work for someone who has questionable ethics and esoteric skills. Currently I am working on a personal project in a place called Ravenswood. If you can avoid capture the life can afford long stretches of downtime. If I find what I am looking for in Ravenswood I could expect to retire happily for my few remaining years." You frown.

"You don't look that old, and surely you can find a way to keep on going as a, well, wizard." He shakes his head.

"I die on February 1st, 2013. Not a thing I can do to stop that. My soul will do what the soul of a magician who made a number of bad decisions does if Death has mercy on me. Better to burn out than to fade away." You shake your head.

"That has never been my philosophy." He laughs.

"I really should stop being so morbid. Now, Figment, interesting choice of a name. Perhaps a bit pretentious, but that is our right. Now there are several..." He suddenly freezes up. "You were followed."

"How do you do that?" You ask curiously.

"I am afraid in just the right way. Nothing else to it besides talking to the air." He gets up. "I am told you can fight." He examines a strange looking staff.

"What are we dealing with?" He frowns. "That is a harder question. Dangerous people, but..." He starts looking frantic. "Buy me some time and I can finish this! Try to keep them outside."

You leave the motel room, wondering what your chances are of actually getting assistance.

The man who falls from the sky is big. Not inhumanly big, but tall and wide and strong. He lands on the ground of the parking lot, looking very angry.

He is wearing an "early League classic" hoodie in dark colors. It's a subtle costume, dressed for winter with gloves and a bulky utility belt. It could have just been someone sneaking around if he hadn't fallen from the sky. Dark makeup or grease takes the place of a mask around his upper face, splashed around in purposeful looking designs.

"Got a name?" He asks with a scowl.

"I just settled on Figment. Like it?" He shrugs. "I've heard better."

"What about you?" He shakes his head. "I've got some ideas."

Oh no. He wanted you to keep talking.

"There's no chance you're just going to let me walk out of here, is there?"

"You attacked my daughter." You step back. That's bad.

He crouches and leaps forward at incredible speed, right through the illusion standing several feet to your side. He laughs at that and spins with a surprising grace.

You could not let this guy near you. The attempt to turn his clothes into burning clothes fails to do anything. Transmuting around him seems difficult given how quickly he moves, how strong he seems to be, how much control he has.

Where does the League find these people?

You maintain an illusion of invisibility. The brick smiles again, and throws himself in another of those bullet like moves across the parking lot. If he hit you with one of those it would be bad.

"I thought you weren't allowed to kill?" You ask him through another illusion.

"You almost killed my daughter," He answers with a growl, and throws himself again.

Calm down. The League wouldn't kill, not over this. They wouldn't send a killer. He was just scaring you. If he couldn't control those leaps he wouldn't be using them.

The fight would be over if he got his hands on you either way...

You drop your illusion for a second and raise a wall between the two of you. You go right, your illusionary clone goes left. The superhero jumps over the wall in another of those bursts, slightly slowed. But does it mean he doesn't want to smash it, or can't?

You liquify the ground beneath his feet, and he sinks down to his knees. He swings around in the new pool, unable to move properly.

"And that's that." The hard object against your back is very disconcerting. The quiet, female voice sounds satisfied.

"I guess this is where I surrender," You state. You could melt the object, but someone who could sneak up on you that easily with unknown powers and equipment would probably knock you out if you resisted from here.

"It is." She presses harder, a hand on your shoulder. "Let my husband go."

Then the pressure is gone, but why? There's a white blur around where Jim is for a second, and then it is gone.

"And now we run." The voice is Cameron's. Twirling around you see the wizard wearing one of those clay masks and a shirt that looks like Icicle Junior's. His walk is different and he looks a good deal happier.

"What exactly is this?" You ask.

"Chaos, love. Chaos. Now please keep the brute in that hole, but don't kill him. That kind of thing really does get too much heat even for us."

"I can't keep him there long. Where did the other one go?" He frowns. "She disappeared when I..."

The flash bang goes off. When you know where you are again the woman is holding a long pole against the wizard's throat and Jim has vanished. She has a full head mask that looks like a fencer's and a white costume. Her own utility belt is distinctive and appears color coded for tools.

"Now dearie, I am sure we can work this all out!" the accent changes from British to American in a second and there is a blast of ice that covers her feet. The shake behind you is far more worrying, with a strong set of arms lifting you up.

"Let her go." The superhero growls. He smiles of sweat and oil and dirt, his arm pressing against your throat.

"I can't!" The whine is very much Cameron's. "I can make ice, but not manipulate it," The British voice explains.
"Take off the mask, Ethan, and we can talk." Ethan, interesting.

"If you were to turn off your own brutish powers I would be more than happy to. As it is no!" The voice changes with the last word again. Ethan raises a wall of ice between them. The hero crouches yet again and the two of you land behind the wall. You swing uncomfortable from one arm as he lunges, delivering a blow to the Ethan illusion's head. The real Ethan nods at you as the angry superhero picks the illusion up and throws him over his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asks his wife, who is still frozen to the ground. She nods, wincing a bit.

The man finds the half of his body carrying "Ethan" covered in ice a moment later. He breaks free, growling and spinning for an enemy he can't see. When his foot goes down next it sinks into another liquefied hole in the ground. He doesn't let go, and you hit your head against his shoulder for your trouble.

"Stop!" Cameron's voice hits you both, and Ethan is standing near the superheroine, pointing at her.

"Trade?" The superhero asks slowly after a moment of the two standing, with Ethan glaring and it feeling like your captor was as well.

"Let's." He nods and with a kick from the villain the ice shatters around the woman's feet, while the hero's arm lets go of you and he leaps away. Ethan has his hands raised, sliding on ice and moving back towards you as the brute lands next to his wife.

"Got any bright ideas, love?"

[X] "We run." You whisper. Just leave and hide, wait for it to blow over. "You said that before. Got a plan?" He shrugs. "Not a good one..."

[X] "Attack," You say. This problem will not solve itself, you need to take them down.
-[X] Figment's Attack Plan (Write in)

[X] "Follow my lead." Ethan nods. You have a plan to talk your way out of this.
-[X] Figment's Negotiation/Social Combat Plan (Write in)

WyldCard4 · Mar 21, 2015

[X] "Attack," You say. This problem will not solve itself, you need to take them down.
-[X] Use Invisibility on both you and Ethan while making a fake of both of you. Pretend to flee with your illusions, when the heroes give chase get them in the back for the knockout blow or full body entrapment. Don't hold back, but don't kill them either.

Erie, Pennsylvania- July 11, 13:18 EDT

The heroes vanish in their incredible mover powers. The man lands on the street in front of the fleeing illusions, while the woman is nowhere to be seen.

"Do you ever wonder where the League finds these people?" Ethan sounds quite weary. "I heard they were already at ten even before these two showed up, and the League are all so bloody hax." You shake your head.

"You copy powers." He laughs.

"That whole deal is new. One doesn't worship chaos to be repetitive. You have any idea where the other one went?" Jim is engaging in cornering your incredibly energetic illusion clone.

"I think she's figuring out where we really are. I have leaned on this one quite a bit." He frowns. "We need to take out the devilish speedster. I believe the brick is within our mutual capabilities, but not when we need to deal with another strong combatant. You are narrowly missed by the man who bullets down the street.

"He knew." You frown. "He knew, so why..."

The wall of ice surrounds you both before the dozen or so flash bangs that hit the street. An illusion pair is crumpled several yards away.

You part the ice wall, hoping to catch he couple, or one of them, as they move to restrain the illusion. The rather familiar stream of gas from the small grenade near the "bodies" frustrates that.

"I didn't even see her drop it. Remind me to take her set when we win, Love."

"Patience." You raise a hand. "They need to pick us up after we're..."

You really hate the flash bangs. They must be on a remote control? It's so damn specific.

There's a strange feeling that hits before you recover, and you find Ethan holding his hand over your face, and you can hardly breathe.

"This is the escape plan," He whispers. You consider for a moment.

"Where are we?" You whisper back.

"About ten feet underneath the ground. I told you the plan was bad." You consider for a minute.

"Can you get us out on my mark?" He scoffs.

"Of course. Got a new plan?"

"Not exactly." He sighs. "Good enough.

You are already invisible when you rise to the surface. The illusion copies of you and Ethan explode into ice and fire. The husband leaps forward, into the new sink hole that does not effect the doubles in the slightest. He sinks, spinning, into the artificial super quicksand, attempting a swimming motion.

"Now!" Your double shouts, and the doubles sprint down the street towards you. Ethan hits the white whirlwind with a blast of ice covered by the illusions, and she falls.

"Keep her there!" You keep your eyes focused on the sinkhole, and let him sink in deep. You don't let air follow him.

You know how long a human can hold his breath.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 11, 15:12 EDT

"We were lucky." Ethan sounds defeated. If not for an assassination in Mexico we would be sedated awaiting transit to Dreamland right now." He is peering into a smartphone that curiously appears to be off. "As it was, we only dealt with the volunteers. Ordinarily they would have been escorted by someone more experienced."

"They're new." You shudder.

"I dare say that without numerical parity we would have been defeated quite soundly. It was a close call as it was." Ethan sighs. "I really did like it in Erie. So much safer than a place this close to Ravenswood. Ah well, we never did finish our conversation."

"It would be nice to know more about this career path." You look around the McDonald's parking lot. The latest stolen and modified car was one of the nicer ones, changed to resemble Ethan's tastes. It was definitely an improvement over your usual changes.

I think there are two major choices." He sits back. in his driver's seat and takes his hands off the wheel, staring with a kind of reluctance at his grease hands. "I believe either one would be rather competitive compared to mundane entry level positions for someone with your age and education."

"Sounds good." Everything is feeling a bit better. "What are they?" The food was helping remove some of the stress.

"They have a job for you. If you want I can help get you into a boat tomorrow afternoon."

You shake your head. "That was fast."

He nods. "Magic cellphone, and we knew you were coming from the lad calling himself Chain.

"A boat?" That was new, oddly enough. You had only left the US once, and not on a boat.

"Yes, a boat. There is a certain facility in South America that could use your powers for production and needs tighter security. This facility is very valuable. The figure I was quoted for your assistance is that you are given one million dollars to start with." That number is just wow.

"A million dollars?" He nods. "I was not given details on hourly wages, length of time, benefits, or any other details, but yes. A million American dollars are what they will give you when you arrive. I consider these people quite trustworthy."

"Is it normal not to tell people much about their jobs in this line of work?" He nods.

"In my experience you usually get strange notes hidden in your glove box or anonymous texts cutting the lyrics of Top 40 songs requesting the strangest items one could imagine. Admittedly, my circles tend to run a bit stranger than a normal villain. Chaos and all that."

"And option two?" You ask.

"I hire you," He answers. "This place is very peculiar. I will need help to unlock the secrets of Ravenswood, and I am going to die. You have the right aura for learning magic, I think. I can't promise it won't be risky, but I can promise you that after I die you can take everything I have taught you and everything I have acquired to do what you want with."

"Why me?" You ask. He smiles again.

"You have powers I do not, I have very few options. You are young and beautiful and I think you have what it takes to replace me."

"I never thought about that," You say truthfully.

"The truth is, as you saw, you are not a major player in this world. You could barely fight a minor task force from the Justice League. Being my apprentice will give you more power, possibly a lot more depending on what we can unlock from your natural abilities." You nod carefully.

"With a million dollars, and a few more jobs like that, I could leave the life all together, hide somewhere or cut a deal."

"Indeed you could. I assure you the road I am going down is dark, very dark. I can assure you that people will die from this work, and that people will be born. If I am successful our names will be in the history books. Then again, I suspect that Mr. Chain Lightning will be in those books, and I know he is already guarding the facility."

"My name's already in them." He looks curious. "There's a reason I don't want to use it."

"Ah, little Figment. I do wonder where you come from." You smile and give him a gesture. He nods thoughtfully. "Ah, of course."

"And if I want some peace and quiet?" He pauses. "I cannot say too much, but I have heard rumors that where you would go if you take the job is not for the faint of heart. The people I may work for will not be quiet for long. Perhaps..." He shrugs. "There are risks and rewards to either path."

"I see." You begin to really consider.

"The sooner you can give me an answer the better. I do not have a lot of time." Ethan moves away from you. "I would like a decision sooner than later. I have my own project to work on." He examines the locks of blonde hair he took from the speedster.

[X] The sooner you get out of the country the better. And, well, a million dollars sounds nice. More than a million, certainly. You could enjoy being wealthy. You never have felt comfortable with Ethan.

[X] Magic? That sounds good. You no longer feel safe, not with what the Justice League can deploy. Not with what the villains can deploy, either.

[X] You're starting to reconsider this whole supervillain thing. Ethan seems to be into something big, dark and serious. This isn't cops and robbers, this is life and death. Even the unknown facility comes from the same set of sources, and that leap could land you anywhere. Maybe if you turn him into the League they would forgive you. There is stealing a purse, and there is this.

WyldCard4 · Mar 22, 2015

[X] Magic? That sounds good. You no longer feel safe, not with what the Justice League can deploy. Not with what the villains can deploy, either.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 11, 23:59 EDT

You sit yoga style on the floor of the storage locker.

"Excellent," Ethan nods. "Very good."

"What now."

He smiles a bit. "You stay here for as long as you can."

You frown. "What then?"

"Deep in the heart of the universe is what I am going to call will. It goes by other names. Heart, courage, green, dream, consciousness. Will is the first and most basic lesson in magic. You are going to sit there and not move. You will not scratch, you will not speak. What you are going to do is see how long you can stay here, stay awake, doing absolutely nothing."

"That is magic?" He shrugs lightly. "Or perhaps it is like tapping your hand in a little pan of water every day for months that is taught in the League of Shadows. The line between the mindset and the goal, the power and the knowledge, the is and the ought, are all blurred in magic. That is how it should be, how it is, how it always has been. On Maltus men huddled in love and hate, avarice and compassion, hope and fear of things greater than themselves. Will was where they started the fire. The blood of Maltus still flows. Who are we to question how they began."

Ethan walks out and closes the door of the storage locker.

How long can you stay in here?

Green Lanterns use will, though not magic. Perhaps there is no difference, in the end?

"I will fear no evil,
for I illuminate the darkness
with the light of justice --
the justice of the Green Lantern!"

Abin Sur had made that oath when the United Nations was founded. Other times as well. He had said it in front of schoolchildren on Earth and in a temple on Mars. He was the Green Lantern you grew up with, that everyone had grown up with.

His partner, the man with horn rimmed-glasses has never said his oath, if he even has one. He almost never shows up, and never alone. They say he spends most of his time elsewhere, patrolling the other planets of the sector. Antar, Tamaran, Rann, Mars, Saturn, Leera, and perhaps a hundred other worlds that few humans would ever see.

The new Green Lantern has an oath as well.

"With power present in my light,
No force shall stay my hand this night!
Let those who do prepare to fight,
Dare no man challenge the Dawn's might!"

You need will. You need to stay here as long as you can. Will is will is will. That is the currency you must spend to learn magic, to gain power. The power that was denied to you, cheated from you, back home. Magic was out there, power for the taking.

Mine.

You want out of this storage locker. Out of the sweat, to be drinking something and eating real food back home. You want to get away from the tepid water and the brightness and the weak smells and the way you can never find anything that tastes quite right. You want to go home, but you already tried that and just ended up back here.

You need to focus on will. It will take will to get anything from this process. Without power anything you get can be taken from you. Again and again you have proven that you are not strong enough.

Running after home had lost you everything you could have had. You had found a brother, people to fight for, and then...

You can't lose another child.

It was best for him. His father would do what must be done. He had always been weak that way, driven by emotions. Love had been his weakness, the need to protect the people he loved. That had never been you, no matter what you had been promised.

You had given up on revenge. You can't hate him for staying with her and...

This is not will. This is anger, rage, frustration. That has strength, but also weakness. You need to find your core, your heart/will/green/name.

You had lost so many names. Maybe that is what you have to find to find your will.

A name has to mean something. You don't know how long you spend trying to find your name, when you fall asleep, if you even woke up in that dark storage locker.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 13, 01: 22 EDT

"Well done." Ethan is smiling down at you as you cough from some kind of smelling salts. "I really expected you to come out.

"I've been in worse." You glance up at him. "How long was I out?"

"It took an hour for me to get worried, and you were in there for 24." Ethan shrugs. "That was the first step. Long enough for me to make peace with the locals, or local. I'm really not sure what is going on in this town. But I am inclined to say we will not be troubled in this place as long as we can provide it with a few small favors."

You glare up at him. "Got any water?"

Ethan laughs." The tap is right there, Love." You get up on wobbly legs and drink from it. The drink is refreshing, your mouth ceasing to be dry after a minute.

"I am hungry, Ethan." Ethan waggles his finger. "I've met masters who would carve out an eye from such an impudent student. The Liverpool bitch was a piece of work, let me tell you. I don't think she ever had a student survive, so maybe there was more going on there. Anyway, how was it?"

"Hot, then suddenly really cold. Dark, itchy, hungry, thirsty. What did you expect?"

Ethan smiles again. "Do you think that was hard? Love, try a Babalon Working sometime. I've spent three days on LSD trips without sleeping in this work. Magic's not gentle."

"Don't patronize me. You have no idea what I've done."

He smiles. "But you're angry over something as little as this? The last thing we need is another child running around doing magic." He sniffs you. "Ah, but you aren't a child, not really. Or..." He looks confused. "How old are you?"

You give him a smile. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

The wizard steps back. "That is never something you want to hear in my trade."

"Of course not. It never means anything good, does it?"

Ethan nods silently.

It is a long while before either of you talk again, eating microwaved pizza pulled out of an ice cooler.

"Did you learn anything in there? People often do." You chew thoughtfully.

"I think I did. I had a long, long time to think in there. I half expected to hallucinate or have some kind of weird dreams."

"You usually don't get those right away unless you take the pharmaceutical route. That can be a good short cut, but only if you know where you're going, and there is a price."

"I don't think I will be experimenting with that anytime soon," You laugh at the last time you got drunk. "I'm enough of a lightweight not to want to try that."

"So what did you learn in there?" Ethan sounds very curious.

"I got myself a name..."

[X] In there, you kept circling around the past, all that you had lost. If you are going to stay here, earn power, you need to take it all back. "...call me Liz." You are getting revenge, you are going to fight, and you are going to go back home."

[X] You can't help but forget the darkness and the sweat, the hunger and the thirst. You don't want to feel that way anymore. You can become magical and get everything. "...call me Ava." You can have everything here.

[X] Your life had too much. You kept losing again and again. That is what winning has to be, in a world with Green Lanterns and men who can kill the sun. If you get strong enough to never be hurt again. "...call me Spencer." That is what you have to fight for.

WyldCard4 · Mar 23, 2015

[X] You can't help but forget the darkness and the sweat, the hunger and the thirst. You don't want to feel that way anymore. You can become magical and get everything. "...call me Ava." You can have everything here.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 13, 09: 42 EDT

"Here." Ethan has driven you to the local graveyard. "You are to write down everyone who enters and leaves the graveyard."

You frown. "Why?"

Ethan sighs. "Love, I have absolutely no idea why the mysterious sender of text messages wants this. Someone noticed us arrive in town and was polite enough not to communicate our presence to the police. My current theories are the dead girl, the blind girl, and the girl who spent the last year in Iceland, but those are simply my best guess. I would rather not live in the town which has ghost stories told about it all across the world as I investigate it, so I think it would be nice to do this power a favor."

"So, is there anything else I do here?" You ask.

Ethan pulls out a magazine and puts it on your lap. "You read this." You look at it with a bit of confusion. "A jewelry store catalog?"

"We need to channel your personal magic, dear. You need to want things for that. The more you want, the farther your soul will stretch to take it." Ethan gets out of the car and pulls out a large stack of magazines. "Courtesy of local retailers, we today's homework. You are going to look at everything you don't have and think about how much you would like to have it."

You get out of the car. "I don't think I've mastered will yet. Is multitasking really such a good idea?

Ethan nods. "You are stretching your soul. You can't do it one piece at a time if you want to change. You need the stress, the rush, to be hit with everything at once. That is the way you change into a wizard. Sex, drugs and rock and roll helped me become the man I am today as much as any dusty old books or magic words ever did. Those will have their time and place. When you get bored you will get a taste of magic, enough to keep you wanting more. That's how I am going to teach you. There are other ways to teach very different people."

All of this makes sense. "So I just think about what else I could have. Things I really, really want."

"That is what ads are for. You can pay more attention to them than to the articles. When something strikes your fancy think about it. You won't find your heart through peace. Meditating on the oneness of the universe or how to help others is all well and good, but that's not why you're becoming a witch."

You shake your head. "Why did you become a wizard?" Ethan smiles.

"I could have had a simple, boring life. I could have had a wife and kids and a dog and hated every minute of it. I thought I was going to die young, burn myself out and wind up dead. Instead I found a mate who knew things. I couldn't stand being normal after that, so I decided if I was going to burn myself out I might as well do it making something of myself. Here I am, alive and kicking after so many nights. I think I've lasted longer without putting a bullet through my brain this way." Ethan makes a comic bow.

"I see." You really do see. A man who ran away from everything. Why else would a Brit be in Pennsylvania?

Ethan walks away and you assemble your materials. A notebook, three pencils, and your magazines. It is time to get to work.

Mouthwatering food comes first. It seems best to start with literal hunger. Not much raises too much of your interest. Clothes spark a bit more, Always being on the run, not attracting too much attention, it would be nice to be pretty. Strap on new shoes and new looks, become someone you've never got to be before.

You could get used to wanting those things. So far the ache of greed is not uncomfortable. You start forming little scenarios in your mind. Yes, those shoes with that top and maybe those shorts. On a beach in Monaco perhaps. Mexico's been a cesspool, as are most places, but nice beaches on Europe would be great.

Jewels are the same here as they are back home. You spend a lot of time eying them, trying to find things you'd really like. You don't really like the look of diamonds. Rubies are nice, the color red in general is striking, homey.

Maybe a spa weekend, or living with a spa in the house? Did people have those, or just a jacuzzi? The idea seems very relaxing, very comfortable.

It is a random ad for wrist watches that for some reason had a picture of a hang-glider that made you really pause.

Flight. Not even Superman can fly. Moving around, bouncing from place to place. Spending three days to get from Star City to Erie sucked. Hikes through the desert sucked even worse. Just being able to hop from place to place like Green Lanterns do all the time...

Green Lantern. The oldest and best superheroes. Their power would be nice. Not a true member, of course, but something like it. A weapon of amazing, incomparable power. Being safe and able to do anything and ignore all the little things with a wave of a ring.

You want to go home. To go home under your own power.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 13, 19: 42 EDT

Ethan returns bleeding and looking rather surprised.

"Anything you want to share?"

Ethan shrugs. "A shifting maze that didn't like me much. At least I've found somewhere to start, though it being a shifting maze implies it might not be a good place to start. Any luck?" You nod.

"Descriptions of everyone. A lot of people come here."

Ethan nods slowly. "Any progress on your growing avarice?"

[X] "No." You hand Ethan back the magazines. "Something just isn't clicking. I feel the same."

[X] "Yes." You laugh a bit. "This is fun, and isn't, at the same time."

[X] "Maybe." You shake your head. "I think I need a vacation. All the stuff that's been happening to me lately, I need to go somewhere, do something else for a bit to get started."

WyldCard4 · Mar 25, 2015

[X] "Maybe." You shake your head. "I think I need a vacation. All the stuff that's been happening to me lately, I need to go somewhere, do something else for a bit to get started."
-[X] "Looking through the magazines made me want a vacation."

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 13, 19:43 EDT

Ethan shrugs. "Interesting. Any particular reason why?"

You pause and frown, considering."I guess confusion and stress, overall. It seems weird, going from will to greed like that."

"You act as if they are truly divided. What else could spur you on, keep you going? To separate will from context is to be dead." Ethan pauses and pulls out the dark smartphone, turning it on for the first time you have seen.

"Another lesson in magic?" You ask.

Ethan nods. "In a matter of speaking. Imagine a presence, existent without context. There is nothing to this presence but itself. Denied of information on the outside world it could either expect good things or bad ones from the unknown. As such, consciousness creates hope and fear. Skipping a number of related steps, does an active presence have will without hope or fear?"

You frown and consider. "With nothing outside of it? Focusing on one thing would be just as unimportant as focusing on a thousand things for a being without anything else around. I guess it probably would not."

Ethan nods approvingly. "Now add hope or fear. If the being believes harm is possible, action can be pursued in that mind indistinguishable from preparation for such hope or fear. Spending a thousand years trying to enact a hope or combat a fear becomes different from spending a thousand years trying to imagine the sound F Sharp. It is argued by magicians I have met that will must exist in context. If you have no desires to resist, then resisting them is not will. Your soul wants and as such your soul is defined by going with or against that want."

It makes sufficient sense for you to nod. "So, teacher, do you think a vacation would advance my progress or impede it?" Ethan shrugs again.

"I don't know you well enough to say. What I do know is that you going on a vacation would tell me more about you and make you easier to train. Even if it is a deadly mistake for your development it would allow me to know what to avoid in the future."

"If this is a learning exercise anyway, what do you think I should do?"

Ethan taps his fingers happily against a tombstone. "I have a few ideas..."

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 14, 05: 12 EDT

It is weird taking a non-stolen car somewhere. You are exhausted and irritable, but this is apparently Ethan's idea of a vacation.

Ethan had given you a lightly annotated note about the town. The place is a tourist area noted for having some of the oldest human archeological sites in the world. Occasional tourists, archeologists, and magicians toured the place enough to keep a sleepy town active. The largest employer in the town was the retirement home with all the young blood called to more promising places.

Once the fishing had been good here, but overfishing had depleted everything. It isn't even legal to fish here anymore, and the law says it wont be until 2038. Environmentalism can feel very real when Thanagarians give Congress a list of planets that went through ecological catastrophes to go along with the shared history books. Earth's jellyfish are not quite as likely to storm the land in hunger as those of Antar, but the point still got through.

Ethan gave you a single book to study while you are here. You can come back when you have mastered the aura sight. You are tasked with figuring out who among the tourists have magic and who do not. The challenge is rather exciting.

You have just parked and are at the desk when you hear a laugh. "Of all the people!" You spin around and see Spencer from Star City waving at you.

"Great to see you," You say at least half sincerely.

"I wouldn't have thought they'd have found you anyone wanting to adopt up here," Spencer grins at you. Oh right, that cover story the lawyer had made up had involved going to Star City to find someone to adopt a baby you were supposedly pregnant with. How Spencer had heard about this you couldn't imagine. "How far along are you?" You think fast.

"Not very. I was quite proactive. With my mother and all that I just couldn't..." Spencer waves it off.

"You've got nothing to feel guilty about! If Ashley and I could we'd adopt, but she's back in rehab so I'm visiting her grandfather up here." Ah, so that's why you thought she was named Ashley, it must have come up in conversation.

"I see," You nod. "Well, I need to sign in. I'm surprised they're open this early." Spencer laughs again.

"This is Lovecraft Country. You don't have a hotel out here that doesn't take in guests at all hours. If Red Torpedo hadn't cleared Bar Harbor out I wouldn't come within a hundred miles of this place unless Superman was on East North East patrol. Did you hear he just stopped a tsunami the other day?" You are surprised you hadn't. "Like, with the Reeves Dam thing you can't be that surprised but still..."

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 14, 12: 06 EDT

"...and so I said, Danny, Jo just can't keep doing this if you're going back to prison. She deserved so much better than that from him even if..."

It would be technically possible to extricate yourself from Spencer after having been up for well over 24 hours, but you are just worried enough that this is some kind of obscure trap that you do not want to let your guard down.

It seems she does not talk constantly just when she is bored enough to pickup a short female hitchhiker when she was driving. You have been seated in this cafe for four hours watching people go by and occasionally commenting on Spencer's monologue.

You are so far of the opinion that most of the people here are probably wizards or really want people to think they are. The number of gruff people wearing trench coats and leather jackets that can move through the small diner amazes you, and the large barman and pretty tattooed waitress look no less peculiar. The level of snark you have overheard in this place is nothing short of disturbing.

"...and so I said, girl, that you have to stop dressing like a punk from the 90s. Anyway, you look tired." You think.

"I really am. I had a long drive." You give her a soft smile. "Do you mind if I go to bed?"

"Not at all. See you tomorrow. I really should get back to Ashley's granddad." She gets up and leaves quickly. To your surprise you realize she left you to cover the check. You feel no reservations about tipping this time.

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 15, 02: 08 EDT

You awaken in the dead of night feeling more rested than you have in weeks.

Time to have a vacation.

[X] You want to start by investigating the local people. Someone here is probably just as suspicious as they look. It would help to figure out aura sight if you interacted more with the locals.
-[X] Who in particular do you check out?

[X] You decide to investigate the local archeology sites. You are training to be a wizard, so you should learn more about this kind of history.

[X] You feel somewhat lonely now, and decide it would be best to go and see if Spencer is awake at this time of night.
-[X] You suspect she will still be awake, probably at the retirement home.
-[X] She's probably somewhere in this hotel.

WyldCard4 · Mar 26, 2015

[X] You decide to investigate the local archaeology sites. You are training to be a wizard, so you should learn more about this kind of history.

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 15, 03: 00 EDT

The museum is lit by dense street lights and the lights of exhibits. You enter the walking tour alone, with no one else in sight. The single large open room reminds you of a shrine.

The first exhibit is a simple collection of shards of off-white crystal held together by a wire frame. The plaque reads a short introduction. "This water bottle is one the first human artifacts ever found on Earth. Over seven thousand years old it was found still intact by archeologists in the 1960s. The bottle is only broken because scientists could not figure out another way to examine it and there were over a dozen others found in the following weeks. This bottle still had a functioning water filtration system that scientists examined."

You examine the artifacts with a smile and move to a more central plaque.

"The Kryptonians (from Greek: κρυπτός kryptos "the hidden one") left very few traces behind compared to any civilization that followed them. Now believed to be colonists from the planet of Superman, the Kryptonians are believed to have come to Earth to explore Earth's pre-human mystical history. According to Doctor Fate of the Justice Society the Kryptonians came to explore the tombs of the species called the Old Ones in most alien texts. Investigations into Kryptonian archeology sites have revealed large excavations for missing artifacts. Most of the Kryptonian people are believed to have returned home to their planet, popularly known as Krypton. It is widely believed by scientists that human civilization would never have been able to develop if the Old One tombs had remained undisturbed, and genetic testing traces human genetics to the nine Kryptonian body fragments discovered."

A single intact crystal implement that no one had ever figured out a use for stands in a place of honor on a pedestal. Remnants of what are thought to be an ancient, advanced version of the modern "ice gun" stand nearby with a note that the core had been disposed of due to pollution concerns. Pieces of copper and gold jewelry were around, seemingly the Kryptonian idea of putting flowers in your hair or a rubber band bracelet.

According to the wall, Kryptonians built by mixing odd crystals and chemicals with artificially generated ice. Sticking to ice sheets for most of their cities, almost none of their buildings still lasted.

A single skeleton is wired to stand at the end of the first hall. "Before Man" is the sign next to it. The creature is short and wide, knees bend backwards and with a long tail. The overall look is obese and not helped by the short tusks that come from the mouth.

"Before the Kryptonians came Earth was settled by the sub-terrestrial races. The sub-terrestrial demographic groups changed radically during the Kryptonian period with many species experiencing population booms, other races crashing or shrinking in range, while a few types disappear altogether. This particular race, the Neronians, vanished entirely. Subsequent digs found mass graves containing sub-terrestrial infants of many races in the Neronian cave systems. When the Kryptonian race left Earth the races that flourished during their era mostly vanished as well. It is believed that the Kryptonians took their own allies with them when they returned home. The subsequent period of the Nameless Empire has a far greater crash in sub-terrestrial populations, with the few non-crashed races all being ancestors of humans today."

The plaque's enthusiasm is infectious, speaking around the truth that Earth was a planet ruled by demons and freed from Hell by ruthless genocide and miscegenation. Sub-terrestrial is such a nice euphemism for monster.

You have to imagine that the Kryptonian race had advanced far in power since they had colonized Earth. It is difficult to imagine Superman needing any of these materials, or more than a single site to dwell in. The news had a stir back when he was the Red and Blue Blur when a journalist had proven that he could consistently move from Kansas to Australia in less than twelve minutes based on reports of saved lives.

Perhaps they found the secret of being Superman when looting the tombs of the Old Ones.

"A flair for history I see?" The Caucasian man walks forward, smiling gently. His dark hair, green eyes, and white trench coat suggest someone who is very at home in a place like this. "So good to see young people take an interest in archeology."

You shrug softly. "It's not a flair at all. I was just curious what all the fuss was about."

The man laughs out loud. "It is proof of where we come from! Our whole species comes from the stars. Without men from the stars we would never have existed, and the stars have come again and again to save us. Surely that is worth a fuss?"

You smile softly. "It is certainly impressive, making cities out of ice."

He comically gags. "Cities out of ice! Dear girl, they came from the stars to search for secrets found nowhere else in the universe!"

You frown softly at the man. "We don't know that. There could be a hundred places like this. How would we know if there was one in every Sector of the universe? I think all that talk is just people wanting to be special." You wave your hand around the room.

"God, woman. You are grim aren't you?" He offers you his hand. "Thomas Morrow, here visiting family."

You take his hand. "Ava." You do not elaborate.

"Surely there's something here that impresses you? This place was part of a big project ran by the man I came to see. Dr. Jim Lockhart spent decades trying to revitalize the town. Isn't one thing impressive here?"

You shake your head. "Not one thing."

"You found me, lady." You take a step back.

"I'm seventeen," You lie. "I don't think my parents would like us talking much." Thomas Morrow laughs.

"I heard from one of the ladies visiting here that you are here looking for adoptive parents!"

You give him a hard smile. "Hence my parents' worry." You make a motion to leave.

"Tell Ethan to leave Danette alone."

You spin around. "Who?"

"Ethan Rayne, your master. He is camped out at my daughter's grave. I don't care why, but he has to stop."

[X] You consider for a long moment, and decide to kill him. He is clearly a threat and a rival. Ethan could hardly fault you for being proactive. You are supposed to be a servant of Chaos after all.

[X] You run. Anyone who figured out who you are so fast, or at least what you represent, has the nuclear launch codes of a call to the Justice League. It is time to run as far and as fast as you can before you call Ethan.

[X] You walk out firmly, ignoring Mr. Morrow. You make your way to the Windward Home. This man says he is here to see Dr. James Lockhart . Negotiations would go much more smoothly if you kidnap Thomas's relative first.

[X] Write in.

WyldCard4 · Mar 27, 2015

[X] You sneer at Morrow dismissively. "If you have a problem with Ethan's games, go tell him about it yourself. I'm on vacation." This guy seems pretty shady, so you're ready for a quick blast to his face if he follows up with any threatening moves.

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 15, 03: 28 EDT

"That's hardly the way we do things here."

You snort."This isn't Gotham. Think you can get away with sending him my head in a bag?"

Thomas Morrow shrugs. "You should pay more attention to the kind of things happening in Metropolis or Star City."

Thomas makes a step forward, and it might be just a bit overly panicky when you blast him. He barely seems to notice the strike that should have broken his collar bone. He crouches for a moment, and you make an illusion of yourself running left while you move right. It's probably a trick you use too much, but it usually seems productive. People usually rely on instinct in fights. Confuse that instinct, confuse the expectations, and preserve your own. That is how you were taught to fight.

Thomas doesn't even seem to notice as he advances on you. The explosion of his clothing is similarly unproductive. Bringing the ceiling down on him gives you time to get out into the street.

He does not have an lot of skin left when you turn around. White fluid spurts everywhere and bits of exposed, buzzing circuitry as well. Probably a robot.

"I can kill you," You whisper.

He shrugs. "So could Lex Luthor. I'll be back, and you won't be."

The next blast downs him, directed at his legs, trapping him in the ground neck deep.

"So, you're a robot." You consider the white fluid and decide to push it all underground. A minute later the building is repaired and the traces of the fight should be gone. You return to the trapped android.

"You're one to talk," Thomas's voice sounds amused. "What exactly are you supposed to be?"

"Ava," You answer simply. Someone like that is someone who you should share as little as possible with. "Tell me why we are fighting."

"Firebrand is buried in one of Rosewood's cemeteries. I want her back."

You shrug. "Who is Firebrand?"

"I built her, a robot who could perfectly copy human life. She was too human, broke her cover to save one of the people she was meant to destroy. She had to be deactivated. At the time she had become useless. Her programming was to go into stasis until it was time to retrieve her. The time is coming when I will retrieve her. Stealing Firebrand from me is a declaration of war." The robot man twitches, embedded in the earth.

"There are more coming after you. More robots."

He twitches in something like a nod. "If you sue for peace you can survive. Otherwise you will die, as will anyone who stands in my way."

"Not your way. You will be dead, and a son or a brother will take up your cause." Morrow laughs.

"I uploaded my brain. You will never find all of my files. I will survive no matter what happens to this shell."

"Incorrect. You have a soul, don't you? Your soul does not reside in your uploads, it rests in you, or perhaps your human body or corpse."

"I disagree. My memories, personality, and values shall survive. These are not my brothers, they are me. An imprint may collapse into another world, based on stories told by magic users, but I have no reason to believe this is death, merely further extension of myself."

You toy with the ground softly. "You believe in Heaven and Hell? Why would you be a supervillain if you believed that?"

"It makes it far easier, actually. I have seen wonders, and those wonders include ghosts and demons. Regardless, who could I kill who would not be dead anyway in another hundred years? My work shall create a world without death, a world without pain or deformity or stupidity. This civilization shall be preserved. If it is God's plan for mankind to be wiped out and replaced with greater creatures to sing his praises than who are we to stand in the way of that?"

"You are crazier than I anticipated."

Thomas Morrow laughs. "What I am doing is inevitable. My victory shall make our inheritors capable of joy, of love, of worship, of artificial life. Would it be better if a true war machine was what annihilated us? Apocalyptic threat and existential risk dominate our possible futures. The likely alternatives are far worse than my option." The voice is so excited, so eager.

"I've seen the world almost die," You admit. "An artificial race would have certainly survived that potential apocalypse. We survived due to luck and determination while robots would have barely noticed."

"Exactly. Imagine if Wotan had extinguished our sun! We would all have frozen to death, but robots under nuclear power would have easily survived in the new world! We know of two robotic civilizations out in space, so the path is clearly viable. The universe is littered with dead species. Our own planet is built on the tombs of far older and stronger races than our own. I am the only one who can save any of our culture."

"Crazy, but not that stupid." You sigh. "I really would rather not kill you."

"I am surprised. I could make you an offer."

You smile. "An offer?"

"I promise to upload you. You assist me in my preparations. We work as a team. You can ensure that the things you value most remain after my victory."

You roll your eyes. "So tempting, but destroying the world?"

"In a hundred years everyone 'destroyed' would be dead anyway. Very little of what anyone values will be carried forth into the deep future. Stories and songs will be lost, family lines shall die out, history will be forgotten. Time alone will end the world for us. All I am doing is preserving a tiny bit of it."

"Has that pitch ever worked on anyone?" You giggle. "Come on. Did you think it up when you were fourteen?"

"When I was fourteen I was piecing together scraps of metal into what became the machine guns used in the First World War. My childhood created death beyond comprehension. I know better than anyone else alive what it would mean to unleash the end of the world..." He rambles on and on in the same vein as you step back, feeling a bit sleepy.

[X] You dig him out with a sigh. "I will tell Ethan about your robot and see what he has to say." Peace would be preferable.

[X] You disintegrate the robot. There's evil, and there is ending the world. You do not want this guy to be any stronger than he is.

[X] You remove the head with an ugly popping noise and put it in a bag. Ethan might be able to do something useful with him.

WyldCard4 · Mar 28, 2015

[X] You remove the head with an ugly popping noise and put it in a bag. Ethan might be able to do something useful with him.
-[X] You want to loot the body. You dissemble it piece by piece, ripping them out of the ground in sequence. You disable any obvious power supplies as you do so, and haul the thing back to your hotel room for a more thorough examination. Ethan probably doesn't know much about technology anyways.

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 15, 06: 58 EDT

There is nothing so simple as a power supply. The robot's body looks mostly like a body. White fluid replacing blood, strange organs, ceramic bones. You are rather surprised it proved as durable as it was.

You assemble the obviously mechanical parts on the floor. An oval in the head, wires connecting to the eyes, a strange bag of gas, a few bags of non-white fluid, computer chips in the hands and some seemingly random places. Joints, ligaments, tendons, muscles, all of it looks inhuman but none of it looks truly mechanical.

You think the mouth and teeth might actually be from a corpse or forced growth tank, maybe something Martian. They seem plugged into a large rubbery slot. The throat looks normal besides a small set of wires and what might be computer chips. The throat seems to turn into a tube at the halfway point that would presumably drop things into a small elastic bag for later being squished out uneaten. You get the feeling that whatever went into the teeth and mouth was done more elegantly with the respiratory system, the nose and air canal seemingly meshed together with the white fluid system.

The testicles seem to just be lumps, with the same material that went into the skin being used in entirety for everything else in that area.

You do not know anywhere near enough about the brain or nervous system to figure out what the robot is using. Outside of a coating, the eyes seem almost entirely mechanical, and the inner ears even more so. You honestly have no idea if this robot had a sense of taste or smell.

Putting it very, very roughly "back together" you consider this thing. Whoever made this was very, very smart. This was building a human body from the ground up, not wrapping a convincing skin around a metal shell. It would pass anything short of a blood test. Even an x-ray would probably show the hands as normal, and that was the most common quick check of human structure. You think that the metal involved could mostly be explained by a few surgeries. Hm, there is a small box tied to both the digestive tube and the brain computer, so maybe it has come kind of "cloaking device" to fool x-ray machines for the least human parts?

It would take alien technology to do better, and good technology at that. Andalites, perhaps. Martians could make something biological, but it would take them years to make something sentient and capable of doing this.

You are kind of surprised that Morrow hadn't made the fluid red instead of white. A function of the internal fluid, or is this thing a cheap version of something even more complex?

You remove and carefully put away the possible cloaking devices, the brain computer thing, the oval and connected eyes, the robotic eardrums, and a few other weird pieces you can't guess at in a small bag you transform out of one of the towels. You make the bag impossible to open without tearing it and put it in your backpack.

Absolute worst case there has to be someone who would want to buy all of this. A really good shape shifter might be able to integrate the technology, but no one you have ever met could do that. Ethan could probably get you in contact with someone who might be able to give you the use of some of this in the future.

In some ways the tech isn't that advanced. Truly advanced technology wouldn't have wires, instead routing information and energy through Z-Space. A truly advanced machine would have most components in Z-Space, creating "pyramids" with the "point" resting in 3-Space. That is all cargo cult, information taught to you. You have no more idea of how to penetrate Z-Space than you do on how to cast magic.

The whole thing strikes you as very brute force, in a way. The stretching of basic concepts into ridiculous complexity and building a very large system out of it. It is kind of amusing for someone priding himself on robotics. The concept is not robotic, it is organic.

Then there is a knocking on the door. Who would knock at this time? Oh, of course. "Hey hey hey. You up?"

You sweep the robot under the bed with a wave of your hand and greet her."It's like five AM."

"Closer to seven, duh. Also, the news this morning. That new princess, Starfire, went crazy in DC. Attacked the Prince Seerow Memorial." She seems to consider this an appropriate reason to hook her arm around yours.

"Who?" You ask.

"Like, three GLs back. He died in like the 60s with Zirral, that alien space babe Lantern, succeeding him. Apparently the princess went berserk when she saw an Andalite honored on Earth." Spencer had won the silent effort to bring you out of your room and down the hallway to breakfast.

"Oh yeah, him. Didn't he cause the Green Revolution or something?"

Spencer nods enthusiastically. "Well, he met with a human who was trying to do it and basically told everyone to listen to him. He spent most of his time elsewhere. Got killed by the guys behind the Secret Invasion in the 90s, apparently one of the planets he helped the most. This Princess Starfire shouted, blaming him for unleashing a race of slavers into the galaxy."

"Interesting." You nod as you sit down. "So what would you suggest I eat?"

[X] It is time to go back to Rosewood. This vacation is proving rather stressful, and you are not coming back empty handed.

[X] You want to continue your vacation. There is still plenty to do here.

[X] You want to see if you can find where Thomas Morrow came from. That could be useful.

WyldCard4 · Mar 31, 2015

[X] You want to continue your vacation. There is still plenty to do here.
-[X] Work on Aura Sight. Read some of the book and try to use it around town if you can get it going.

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 16, 11: 06 EDT

You crack open the book and begin to read. The paper is cheap and for some inexplicable reason the book smells of oranges. You would have expected something British and low class like tobacco or beer, but oranges? You briefly wonder if this is some obscure test or a reaction due to your apparently having some kind of aspect of "orange" avarice, but it doesn't seem like Ethan.

The cover is purple and quite sparkly, with the back having the picture of a heavily bearded man who might be East Indian, or faking being East Indian, based on a name you can't imagine pronouncing.

Every sentient being, no matter the origin, has a "soul" according to the book. The citations for this include experiments by Amy Winston, PhD. You can't recall an Amy Winston, but the name seems annoyingly familiar. There are long digressions into history and scientific concepts that remind you very strongly of some UFO literature you have read. Either Ethan has the worst taste in textbooks, or the options were pretty bad.

Anything that feels an emotion releases tiny amounts of electromagnetic energy colored appropriately. Anything that has emotions about itself closes a kind of electromagnetic loop that vanishes spontaneously after death most of the time, though occasionally lies within the body or leaves it to create a "ghost." The electromagnetic energy of the soul works in a mystical pattern that is indistinguishable from consciousness and sensation.

The principle of aura sight is to become aware of your own soul's reactions to the souls of others. Given the connection between the soul and electromagnetism, literal light, it is usually easiest to translate these influences into the visual spectrum. Sound, smell, taste, and more evolved have been reported among users of The Powers.

In some ways the more you learn about this the more disturbing the idea becomes. You are literally giving yourself a mental disorder, synesthesia, to translate emotions into colors. Learning magic changes the learner. You are going to sacrifice a piece of who you were to become a witch.

You sigh and leave your room. Spencer seems very likely to ignore you as you try to put this book into practice. She is chatting happily with an old man you don't think is the relative she is visiting. She waves at you happily as you sit down and begin to half-listen.

You try to match her mood, her emotion, while standing near her, and then try to shift away from it rapidly. You focus on the color you are "feeling" at the time. Slowly you begin to notice discrepancies in Spencer, feel the disassociation between your assumptions and her feelings. Spencer and the old man, James something, don't pay too much attention.

You focus on the colors, hard. There are glimmers, now. Flashes along faces or the backs of heads. Once you train yourself into this state it is hard to pull out of. Spencer has waves of violet and a kind of churning of green, yellow, and blue.

The man is stranger, very bizarre, with a long trail of black. According to your book, that is the burning of someone associated with death, an imposition on the normal and healthy spectrum. Robots, zombies, ghosts, the suicidal, manifest the black light. The strange flickering of black, yellow and orange are disturbing. This is someone who has given up, someone who does not believe in his own free will. The book called such people "servants of Anti-Life."

In some ways aura sight is the easiest thing in the world once the ball gets rolling. All you have to do is pay more attention to the things you were already looking for. You are seeing another piece of people.

According to the book, there is a reason not everyone reads auras. Humans are a social race. Aura reading can throw off instincts, put someone half a step out of society. A thousand little social truths, lies that keep society functioning, can be torn away. For someone who cannot compensate, untrained, uneducated, it could be disastrous in a tribe of hunters and gatherers. The fact that this is in the middle of a long dissertation on orgone energy and the amazing scientific power of vitamins is not reassuring for the accuracy of these claims.

Mostly aura reading is neutral, mostly. Plenty of alien races use aura reading. But it is more often than not a disadvantage by itself, something that mothers do not teach their daughters and fathers do not teach their sons. If someone could master aura reading it is far more useful to keep it a secret. It is speculated that somewhere between a million and a billion people use it in day to day life on Earth.

The writer is clearly missing something deep, but you can't figure out what it is. Magic is marginalized too much on Earth for something so simple to be so accessible and magical. The whole thing gives you more of a headache than learning aura sight does. The author is probably just stupid.

Aura sight can usually tell someone with magical power from someone without it. They glow brighter and usually more intensely of a smaller band of colors. This is hardly a perfect test. Someone could glow brightly or singularly for any number of reasons, and magic users are rare. Many casters can even manipulate their auras. Learning more subtle tricks of the aura, to see a potential caster or cold read, will take much longer.

Bar Harbor, Maine- July 17, 14: 07 EDT

You think about a third of the people traveling through the town are mystically active. Thomas Morrow's head is still emotionally colored. Blue, green, and indigo burn brightly there, which strikes you as deeply disturbing. The lack of black energy surprises you more than anything else in the last few days.

Ethan's phone call to the payphone should have been impossible. Payphones are no longer capable of accepting phone calls, only making them. Organized crime and similarly nefarious people were clearly the people most likely to pickup from a payphone.

"Is this chaos magic or the regular kind?" You ask curiously.

"More a favor from a man who I would personally avoid naming under any circumstances. A man who would kill you if he heard I had used his name." Ethan sounds strangely serious.

"You have the weirdest friends," You say softly.

"He's not a friend at all. How is your vacation, Pet?" Ethan sounds a bit scared.

"Not bad. I have learned a lot and have a lot to share when I get back."

"You should get out of that place. I heard something bad is coming up from Salem. That town is not going to stay peaceful for long. I also have a bit of a job for you."

Anything that seems to be scaring Ethan Rayne seems like something to avoid. "What do you want me to do?"

"There is a woman in Hartford who recently had an auction for an unusual item that will complete a collection I have been making. I won the auction, and if you would pick it up on your way back it would save me a good deal of money to get someone I trust to get the thing." Ethan is in a better mood now.

"What is it?" Something a dangerous wizard has been collecting has to be interesting.

"A cactus, or something that is enough like a cactus that you need an advanced degree to care about the difference."

You feel a small burst of disappointment. "You have a cactus collection?"

"Chaos, dear. If it always made sense I wouldn't bother." Ethan's voice sounds quite amused, throaty and pleased.

You suppress a giggle.

Happy Harbor, Rhode Island- July 18, 11: 06 EDT

You are taking a mildly circuitous route in the hopes of not being followed. The changes to traffic are what tip you off. The suddenness, the confusion, the panic. This is the second time you have been in a car during a supervillain attack.

A car comes swirling into view and crashes a few feet behind your own non-stolen car. This looks a great deal worse than Icicle Jr. on the bridge.

[X] You run as fast as you can, throwing up distractions as you move.

[X] You need to get closer to the unknown threat. If you do that you can actually fight.

[X] You consider your options, and turn the ground into the same low friction hole as you often drop enemies into. You will dig deeper than he can follow, keep going in some random direction, and then come back up. That might work.

WyldCard4 · Apr 1, 2015

[X] You need to get closer to the unknown threat. If you do that you can actually fight.

Happy Harbor, Rhode Island- July 18, 11: 14 EDT

More cars get thrown by. Some of the cars have people inside.

This is a lot worse than the bridge. You see a massive pale cloud turn into something like an inverted mountain before a long, thin cord of the stuff connects to the ground. The connection thickens rapidly and begins moving toward you. You are dealing with a tornado. It is wider than the whole highway after seconds and is moving straight towards you. The tornado churns up a huge amount of dirt and dust, with the long grey tendril keeping a connection to the clouds.

This is serious.

The hole you make, sliding into the ground, provides protection. You emerge to the side a minute later.

"Greetings. I am Mr. Twister."

He floats above you, and you can't help but feel the robot is smug about this despite a lack of a facial expression. You stay still as an illusion bolts, and he doesn't seem to notice.

"Figment," You supply, and you raise your hands. The flash rips the robot's eyes open, resulting in you being thrown back ten feet by a swirling jet of wind.

"I expected better. Is that all you have to offer?" Mr. Twister advances on you, still flying, which makes your ground manipulation tricks futile if you were to try them. You react by trying to severe the tubes running along his arms and back.

"Blue Meteor Rock? Who went insane to make you?" You ask with a feeling of mild disbelief.

"Not a soul." You try to deflect the next wind blast to no avail. The tubes are too dense, the air too thin, for you to work with. Your arms and back are bruised by now. Trying to scrape the metal off him is hard when he is keeping up this attack, and he is clearly holding back.

"LetHerGo!" A scream cuts through the wind and the sirens and the car alarms. You hear a massive metallic screech and a massive thud before you look up. Mr. Twister, an empty car, and a man in black are visible, with the man in black hanging for dear life off of one of the tubes.

"Go!" The same voice shouts. You can tell the voice is female, now. You glance and see two girls standing together. Both have dark hair. One has two thin strips of red across her face forming a cross that feeds into a black costume, with her pink Caucasian face and dark hair providing a stark contrast. Her arms and legs are largely exposed besides a small skirt. The whole thing is an athletic outfit.

The other girl's face is a mask of white makeup, as are her exposed forearms and neck. Very large boots and a familiar looking axe complete her simple costume with a one body piece of red tights.

"I think not." Another burst of force in the air throws you away from them. You soften the ground as you land, allowing yourself to spring up start boiling away near Mr. Twister's tubes. Those have to be a weak spot, right?

The man in black has landed a few feet from you, and you see the image on his shirt. Superman's symbol, the stylized fusion of the human letter S and the Kryptonian symbol for hope. He looks up with a rage in his eyes, looking straight past you and at Mr. Twister. Long, muscled arms are mostly exposed, and he is wearing a set of blue tights colored in the fashion of jeans.

"Are you a super?" He asks. You nod. "Then help!" He leaps back into the air and into Mr. Twister, delivering another punch as he fends off a huge mass of rock.

The girl in red is keeping a large distance between herself and Mr. Twister, while the girl in black charges him with a long dark spear. She doesn't even come close to getting near Twister.

All the melting you have managed so far has done is expose a lot more tubing. At this range, with him constantly moving, and no time to really focus between the noise and attacks you can't manage to just melt him down. Superboy howls as he is thrown back without even connecting a punch.

"Got a name?" The woman in red lands next to you.

"Figment," You answer.

"Echo." She thumps her chest. "Friend of yours?" She waves her axe at Mr. Twister.

"I never saw him before today. I think he was sent to kill me. I messed with Thomas Morrow recently, and I think he's responsible for that." Echo swings forward with her axe and lashes deep into a blast of air. This accomplishes absolutely nothing, as both of you are still thrown back.

"I thought that would work. Who?" You see the axe more closely now. It is very thin, with a very short spear coming out of the handle, all silver and red with the metal not being something you recognize.

"Thomas Morrow. Evil scientist, did things in the First and Second World Wars."

"Damn, he's old." Echo grabs you and leaps as Mr. Twister prepares another strike. So far the damage to him has not seemed to inhibit him.

Superboy and the levitating cars keep heading after Mr. Twister, but all the kid capes seem to have managed is to slow him down.

"I thought I would be facing the Justice League, not children."

"Can you hurt him?" Another cape slides up next to you.

"I'm the one boiling him." She nods. "Figment."

"Miss Martian," She answers. You glance at her and are briefly stunned. Her skin is green, and not makeup green, but pored and pigmented green. Red hair hangs from her head in a style that seems very deliberate. Her arms are mostly exposed with small sleeves, and her center is wrapped in a white cotton-like fabric. A blue cape and skirt are made of the same fabric, and a red x along her chest and belly complete the look.

"You're an alien," You whisper.

"So are you," She answers cheerfully. "M'gann M'orzz of Mars." <Ma'aleca'andra, actually. Terra Cimmeria is the area I grew up on, if you want to know that. Well, that's what it's called on Earth, but the translation's pretty accurate, Lands of Darkness.> "It's nice to meet another alien on Earth."

"Not exactly," You smile sadly.

The black suited cape lands with a thud near you. "Anyone got a plan?"

[X] Combat.
-[X] Write in.

[X] Escape.
-[X] Write in.

[X] Social.
-[X] Write in.

WyldCard4 · Apr 2, 2015

[X] Combat.
-[X] Have a flyer get us in the air or get Mr. Twister on the ground. Since we can't mess with the tubes, then we can mess with the harness he's wearing for the wind generators. We can try melting it off him or just converting it into an explosive. If that fails, then we can try messing with the components in the wind generators on his wrists to take away his main weapon and make our escape while they finish him off.

Happy Harbor, Rhode Island- July 18, 11: 29 EDT

"Who here can fly?" The dark costumed girl gestures her spear at M'gann.

"Superboy can almost fly," M'gann says. The half-Kryptonian demonstrates by leaping at the enemy again.

"She's it for real flier." Echo moves suddenly, leaping out of the way of a wind blast.

"Can you get me to his back?" You ask.

M'gann chews her lip. "Not safely.

"Is it safer than getting killed by Mr. Twister?" You gesture at him and another crack appears boiling in his arm, but it doesn't seem to slow him down. "I might be able to break off his harness if I can get close enough or if he can be still long enough."

M'gann suddenly grins. "I have a better idea." This did not bode well. "Let's go." She grabs you and the two of you are off. You're held firmly, you barely feel like you're moving. Then you're in the air as another empty car leaps up. She keeps the two of you moving constantly, and you realize she is stabilizing the distance between you and Mr. Twister. That can let you focus.

The harness begins to disintegrate and melt under your gaze The explosion of lightning that strikes seconds later causes you to blackout for a minute. When you come to Mr. Twister is on the ground, facing off against all four. You get up to run.

"Nope." A slightly altered voice says. Someone in gray urban camoflague is standing near you. His chest is armored and thick, and he has an large helmet to cover his face and head. His extremities are bound in spandex similar to that worn by the two girls or in Superboy's fake jeans.

"Who are you supposed to be?" You ask.

He lifts up his arms and you see long gauntlets covering them, though the gloves look like simple spandex. Something moves out of them too fast for you to register anything but light, and you hear a loud sound from Mr. Twister. Glancing back you see one of his arms is hanging loose.

"Call me Lore, Figment." You creep away as your illusion babbles about the scary Mr. Twister. "I said no." the same flash of light takes off a part of your shoe without you even feeling a scratch.

"What are you?" The obvious thing would be to dissolve his gauntlets and helmet, but that would be very noticeable.

He is silent for a moment. "I'm a Freak on probation. Don't make me angry, please."

This is bad. Unbelievably bad. "How could I make you angry? I just want to help." You try to be as sincere as possible.

"My sister didn't join the Team because of you." His voice is less altered, sadder.

"I'm sorry about your sister. I was hurting and I was scared." You are a bit relieved. When you met a Green telepath you were afraid that M'gann had been shapeshifted and was the girl you had hurt in Star City.

"You are sorry." The statement is bitter.

The two of you watch Mr. Twister be torn apart by the fury of the four young heroes.

"Can I go?" You ask softly.

"I could arrest you," Lore sounds tired. "But there are 83 injured and only 14 EMTs here."

"How much trouble am I in?" You ask softly.

"Aggravated assault in Pennsylvania? That's up to 20 years in prison, Figment. You'd be remanded to the custody of The Dreaming and REBEL Guild during trial and for your sentence, with mandatory counseling and significant possibility of parole if it is believed viable. If I were you I would turn myself in and speak to a lawyer. The longer you are on the run the less likely you are to get leniency and plea bargains. You clearly aren't strong enough to keep running forever. I suggest you either help us today, or run.

Lore moves now, approaching a car. You stand there and laugh in relief.

They really don't know who you are. The worst they have on you is the Erie fight.

"Thank God." You run.

Hartford, Connecticut- July 18, 17: 14 EDT

"Thank you very much ma'am," You look at the cactus, secure in the back seat.

"Take good care of her, please. She's all the way from the Living Hive. Poor thing thrives here. Her babies just soak up water. She loves it when you talk to her." The old woman laughs.

"I'm sure she'll be very happy. My employer was so excited when he heard he told me to come and pick her up right away. I actually cut my vacation short for this." You pat the old woman on the shoulder gently.

"Thank you, dear. Here's your tip." She gives you an old looking half dollar coin. "Have a safe trip."

"I will, ma'am." You nod and drive off, lad you didn't catch her name.

You call Ethan. "When I arrive I have some things to tell you. I might have started some kind of villain war."

"I know all about it. This is between A and Morrow, we're just caught in the middle." Ethan sounds tired.

"A?" You don't recognize that name.

"I have no idea who this A person is. She, if it is a she, seemed to want the doctor to freak out as badly as humanly possible. Or maybe not humanly in his case. So, are you doing alright?"

"Well..."

[X] "Better than I was." Ethan can teach you how to survive this world. You need more power, bad.

[X] "Honestly, no." You need to take Lore's advice. Time to call your lawyers and ask them about your options.

[X] "I don't know what to do," You admit. You're just tired of all of this.
-[X] Write in.

WyldCard4 · Apr 4, 2015

[X] "Better than I was." Ethan can teach you how to survive this world. You need more power, bad.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 19, 08: 29 EDT

"Is there any good reason to have an alien cactus?" You ask curiously as Ethan Rayne places the cactus into the window sill.

"It is the kind of alien cactus that thrives just about anywhere. It's not like the carnivorous flower meat cactus that I store in the basement. That one is a cactus that no one in their right mind should have imported." Ethan turns around. "I wish I could say I heard you had quite the adventure, but your name was not mentioned at all in the news. I would say we live in a police state, but I doubt the answer is that interesting."

"It was a group of younger superheroes. I think they were building a team of some kind for training purposes. They had a Martian, the new Superboy, and another three I couldn't identify called Echo, Lore, and one other who had a name I didn't catch."

"They won't stop," Ethan comments. "Men like them never stop until they put the world in a bottle. Have you ever read their proposals? I am being all but literal. There is talk of force field domes around cities to prevent harmful weather or strategic attack. It is done on Gemworld and Tamaran. Scale models have been produced, they just need the energy source. It is beyond human technological understanding, but the Justice League is not a human organization, is it? Replace cars with trains and little robot golf carts to bring you to public transportation, record everything in the Panopticon, give up the gun, remove the Bomb. The UN's plan for the world will break everything interesting and beautiful about the world just to make it safe, and the Justice League means it could actually be done." You have never seen Ethan rant before, make a political outburst like that.

Oh. No wonder he gave you a New Age mysticism book. You are being trained by a conspiracy theorist. You vaguely remember the forcefield idea coming up in some UFOlogy books in the same area as FEMA death camps and chemtrails.

"I think they just made a team for their kids and sidekicks," You say cautiously.

"They already have sixteen superheroes in their army. Sixteen men and women no one could stand against. Another five, so there are twenty-one. They won't be content with one Superboy, Pet. All of them are going to be raising one. An army like that and we all lose." He sighs. "Young people have no idea what things look like anymore. Cameras everywhere, Domestic Security and Ares and the Justice League are just accepted these days. They should take to the streets, not put everything they do on MyFace."

"I never had a MyFace," You say carefully.

"Your aura sight development was fast," Ethan comments. "I expected that to take rather longer. I suppose you need homework, don't you?"

You nod. "Yes I do."

"Go listen to the radio. Write down the words to the songs on it," Ethan says. "When you are fast enough at that to keep up completely, you will be ready for the next step. To use magic tactically you need to be able to concentrate very fast. Once you are done with that project, the traditional next step is to begin to write each word backwards." Ethan smiles at you.

"That sounds annoying," You glare, feeling a bit cheated.

"The radio seems far better than the real traditional way. The teacher would read verses from the Bible and the student would write them down. Eventually the student would be expected to have the Bible memorized before instruction in actual spells would begin."

This does sound rather more pleasant.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 20, 18: 23 EDT

You hate Hannah Montana more than you had dreamed possible. Why it is that you cannot escape her on any station is a mystery to you. Rosewood's radio stations are abysmal.

The motel room's phone rings and you leap for it, happy to have a distraction.

"Tell me I have an assignment." You think you mostly avoided a whine.

Ethan chuckles."As a matter of fact you do. The master of this town, the mysterious A, is willing to get us into contact with a man who is quite willing to pay for what is left of the Thomas Morrow robot. However, there is a favor for a favor. In a week there will be a shipment into Rosewood. You need to prepare a place for it to be delivered to. Expect a phone number to be taped somewhere underneath a drawer in that motel room. A and I are not to know where you will be. Simply find a place in town that seems circumspect, and call the number to give that location. You will get a date, and on that date you will be there." Ethan hangs up uncharacteristically suddenly.

You wonder for a moment if there actually is an A or if Ethan is just confusing the issue to disguise what he is actually doing. It does not really matter.

A quick check underneath the drawer of the nightstand reveals a number is indeed taped there. All you need to do is figure out a place in Rosewood that is ideal for a drop-off from a mysterious criminal.

You are just pulling out the phone book when there is a knock at the door. When you get there you are greeted by a package instead of a person. "Wizards," You hiss. Inside the package is what appears to be several thousand dollars in cash and a note.

"I want it. A million from me, nothing from A. Interested?"

[X] You decide to call Ethan back. He should be informed of someone else operating against his patron.

[X] You decide to setup a little ambush of your own. This is an assignment you are supposed to work on without your superiors knowing every little detail.

[X] Of course you want the cash! A million bucks is a million bucks. Not that you're going to mess up being a witch. You just need to fake whatever it is you pickup for A and give the fake to New Mysterious Person.

WyldCard4 · Apr 8, 2015

[X] You decide to setup a little ambush of your own. This is an assignment you are supposed to work on without your superiors knowing every little detail.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 23, 09: 16 EDT

The bag is dropped off in a bathroom at abandoned store half an hour ago. You arrive and take it, curiously checking what is inside. Four small glass vials of some kind of reddish powder from the looks of it. Based on the fact that there is so little of it you guess it is probably someone's latest effort to make a Meteor Rock into something productive. You are glad you prepared lead lining for your clothes on the suspicion it might be the thing that's wrecking this planet.

You only met with Ethan once in the last few days. He is spending most of his time on his project in Ravenswood, and you are still learning to write songs backwards. This is not particularly glamorous, but it is comfortable and easy.

You tapped a note at the bottom of your door telling whoever it was to meet you in a few hours down at a local Dunkin Donut's. You suspect that if you dumped the vials before that whoever is here might notice, so it seems best to call Ethan after this little sting operation is over with.

"Hello," A soft voice asks a few hours later. You look up from your library book, a biography of Green Lantern.

"Hello," You answer back. I take it you got my note?" The figure nods. She is wearing a long red coat with a hood. She looks just a bit familiar, and is a great deal taller than you. You take out the fake you spent a minute making, three fake vials made out of a coke bottle and a stick that should be toxic enough to kill anyone who snorted, injected, ate, or smoked whatever was in the vials.

The hooded woman gives you a small backpack and puts the vials in her coat, leaving swiftly. You spend another hour reading before checking the original bag to make sure the vials were not taken by some magic trick. They were not. You went back to the motel room and called Ethan.

"Hey there, Pet. It's been a long, busy day." Ethan sounds just a bit winded.

"I have what A wanted," You explain. "Or at least I have whatever was dropped off."

"Marvelous!" Ethan suddenly sounds a bit more winded. "Would you mind driving up and taking me to the hospital? I feel a bit sick.

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 23, 16: 16 EDT

It had taken you an hour to figure out Ethan had tasted the poison you put in the fake vials. (The vials had disappeared sometime between when you left for the hospital and when you checked half an hour ago, replaced with a sticky note with "thAnks" taped to it in letters cut out of newspapers.

This town.

"I have to commend you," Ethan wheezes from the hospital bed. "You were more proactive than I could have imagined."

"I just needed to check obituaries for a clue," You answer reasonably.

"I had to spend a string on the Boy to survive that," Ethan croaks. "Yet another debt. May as well run my ledger red, aye? Can't collect when I'm dead."

You just shake your head. A secret test of character on a supervillain? You expected more from Ethan Rayne.

"So I assume there's no real money from this." You eye the machine that has a long wire connected to a kind of clip on Ethan's finger.

"I ain't got a million." Ethan seems to be switching accents somewhat in this state. He had told you not to worry about it. "Monopoly money can look just like the real thing until noon with that spell."

"I can't say I'm not disappointed, and I thought being a supervillain was supposed to pay fabulously well?"

"As I said, red in my ledger, Love. It's all going into what I've got brewing." Ethan closes his eyes. "I'll be good as new come dusk."

"So, did I pass?" You eye the IV drip thoughtfully, wondering how hard it would be to turn that into poison.

"Oh yes. Flying colors. Only one more test." Ethan is sounding sleepy.

"What. Test. Ethan?" You sit up straight.

"You have to be honest with me, Ava. Where do you come from? Your name's not Ava and it's not Claire Littleton, and no one's named Figment.

"They could be. It's a big universe." You say it defensively.

"I've given you a lot, girl. Everything you wanted, and you want to stick with me. You've had every chance to bolt, but you want to learn to be a witch. Tell me why, what makes someone want to be a witch?" His eyes open halfway through the rant. It is rather eerie.

"Are you sure you want to know?" You put your hand over his. "This is not a happy story, Mr. Rayne. Knowing it could put you in a great deal of trouble if the right people know you know. You could deny Figment. You can't deny Tess."

"Tess?" He looks at you in surprise. "Not Ava?"

"Yes, my name is Tess. And Ava." You look out the window. "I did something big, Ethan. A lot of things. I gave up a lot of chances, made a lot of mistakes.

"Tell me more." Ethan whispers. "Tell me as I go to sleep.

[X] "It started in a place called Antar, and with a man named Kivar..."

[X] "It started in a place called Roswell, and with a boy called Max..."

[X] "It started on the road with Nasedo, the person who raised me..."

WyldCard4 · Apr 9, 2015

[X] "It started in a place called Antar, and with a man named Kivar..."

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 23, 16: 18 EDT

"He was a great man, they say. Kivar was an orphan found in a field, or by a river. There are many stories, and they are probably lies. Kivar had money, weapons, and magic that allowed him to spark a fire across our world. His armies claimed cities without a single life lost. Every time he won it was through some brilliant plan or trick. Kivar became a legend, his exploits flooding the day clubs of the children and the gaming houses of the royal court.

"My name was Ava, back then. I only have ever had flashes of that time, what it was like. The man who raised me, Nasedo, said that it was all there, but it would take time to unlock. We would all have to be together to gain our full powers, our full memories, to be born again in these bodies.

"I was a queen on Antar, a young queen for a dying regime. My husband was a great man, from what I know. He was kind but hard, very hard. There was always a distance in his eyes, a need to control."

"Stop," Ethan says. "You are an alien?"

"Queen Ava of Antar was murdered. My husband's sister fell in love with Kivar, though how that is possible I will never know. She let Kivar into the capital of Manes to talk with her brother, sue for peace, end the war before one side or the other went too far. Nasedo said there were too many reasons to count for Kivar's rebellion and why King Zan refused to listen. I remember Kivar standing with Zan. The two spoke for sixteen of Antar's days about politics and history, literature and law. Nasedo said I stayed up with them and drank the eiréné so I need not sleep.

"It was too late when the sixteen days were up. When Princess Vilandra let in Kivar she let in Kivar's men. They moved through Manes as shadows, thousands upon thousands, and on the sixteenth day they struck. They slaughtered a thousand slaves bound in their genes to protect the Kingdom, and then stormed the palace. Kivar and Zan turned from words to blows as the city fell apart around us. Queen Ava died as Kivar's men stormed throne room."

"You died?" Ethan asks, a note of hope in his voice.

"I died. The chief adviser, the general, Rath, lived hours more than Ava, Vilandra, and Zan. He gave our cells to my mother in-law, including his own. As Kivar's army began a civil war that is fought to this day the loyalists worked in secret to bring us back to life. They succeeded, in their eyes, and sent eight children hidden in pods to land in a New Mexican desert. The power of that ship took decades to produce Antarian Royals, my kind, without a world behind our creation. Furthermore they mixed us with human DNA so we could pass, hide on Earth, a place that was hoped to be too formidable to search. They were wrong of course. Kivar commanded the loyalty of hundreds of his followers to wear Skins of human biology so they could search for us."

"Do we have to worry about them?" Ethan asks, the hope drained out of him.

"Not them, no. They are all dead by now. They went after me in defective husks, all but powerless. All would have gone according to Rath's plan if one of the followers of the royal line was not corrupt. Kivar offered him something, I don't know what, and Nasedo accepted. He sabotaged the ship and killed two of the other protectors. The survivor deserted. Nasedo left the lesser batch in Roswell and dumped the superior versions in a New York sewer."

"I don't understand," Ethan mutters. "Batches?"

"They made four clones of each of us. The lesser two clones were flushed, the stronger two were sent to Earth. My batch are strong, but had aggressive growth of human cells. Our New York brothers and sisters were the hoped for model, but were given no guidance, no education, and turned feral. They killed their clone of Zan and I killed his murderers. One of them, my sister, might still be alive. She fled Roswell and New York after her family was annihilated."

"That is rather dark, don't you think?" Ethan asks.

"It was life. Nasedo picked me up when we hatched. Trained me, educated me for the deal. I would deliver a legitimate child of Zan and Ava to Kivar, to be appointed prince. Kivar would rule as regent, and I would be queen dowager. The other clone reincarnations would be executed to prevent rival claims to the throne. Kivar would eventually give a child to marry the heir, and all would be well. I would be home, in comfort, safe. I would have stopped a civil war that has raged for the better part of a century!"

"What went wrong?" Ethan sounds so tired.

"I did everything Nasedo said, no matter how hard, no matter how terrible. We went back to Roswell and reunited with my family. There were complications. People died and they would never have trusted me enough that I could explain what happened. They found out, and I went back to Antar alone with the heir. But it turns out that I was a little too human after all." You glare bitterly at the blinking hospital lights. "The human cells had invaded my reproductive system and Max's. None of our germline was Ava and Zan. It was all Tess and Max. He was born to be a king and all he cared about was-" You stop yourself.

"So there was another woman." Ethan observes wryly.

"Liz Parker," You hiss. "I was his wife and he cared more about a human girl he met in high school. After everything I did, all I gave him, he listened to her instead of me!"

"You were giving him over to be killed," Ethan points out.

"That was the deal. It was the only way any of us could go home. His son would have been king. If he had stayed with me on the ship we could have driven into his DNA and extracted a real prince, but he stayed on Earth and I went home." You get up and start to pace. "It was beautiful, Ethan. Everything knew what you wanted. The water was like jello, reacting to your every whim before you even had it. It was always the right temperature, the air was always perfect, you were never thirsty, and when you were hungry you could eat all you wanted and it always tasted good. The smells, the feel of everything, it was right. This disgusting little potter's field will never compare to that."

"But other places might, if you can become strong enough," Ethan laughs. "I think you are exactly the woman I should have taken in as my apprentice." Ethan closes his eyes and sits down. "Tomorrow I will tell you my plan."

Rosewood, Pennsylvania- July 24, 17: 22 EDT

"Once Sector 2814 was the heart of vast empire, the greatest empire there ever was. Gods born from the Source and the Anti-Life Equation ruled with peers, some of them we still know to this day. The Lords of Order and Chaos and the Old Ones, or Old Gods, ruled three galaxies. They warred among themselves as we breathe, constantly. Their civilization was a quest for light, emotion, the shining answer. Love, compassion, hope, will, fear, avarice, and rage were stoked in populations stretching across more planets than hold life today. The cruelty and largess of Empire of Tears is beyond our comprehension." Ethan tells you a version of the old story, told in kindergartens and universities all across Earth.

"I know what happened next. The Guardians of the Universe came in, broke the demons, and saved the universe from an unceasing nightmare." You recite it only a bit bored.

"That is one way of looking at it. Currently we are spared a world devoted to a tree of impaled torture victims or the regular and ritualized cannibalism of our children. If the wonders of endless gods and monsters working for their own grandeur could have given us something worth our Tears is of course unknowable. However, one of their wonders is still known. Ethan opens a door into an occult greenhouse. Strange flowers of an amazing variety surround you. One of them you recognize from Antar, a long red pitcher plant "weeping" nectar.

"I rather like not being impaled on a giant tree," You say. "But what are you on about?"

"They held their empire together with portals. Fifty-two portals to a planet. Without the dread Empire to maintain it, the portal network has slowly withered away over thousands of years." Ethan explains happily.

"You can bring back the portals that crossed three galaxies?" You ask incredulously.

"No, but I know where the person who made the network is buried. His corpse is buried under the horrible town of Ravenswood, draining the color out of the place and calling all manner of evils to it. I want to wake him up and put him to work." Ethan spins around and grins at you.

"You want to bring an Old God back?" You recoil.

"Of course not, Pet! I want to bring a Lord of Order just back enough to repair a few portals before he loses power and goes back to dead. He wants to do it, and I want him to do it. He wants all places connected, and he will be happy to have one last go at life." You consider if he's crazy or not. Of course he is.

"This will give me a way back to Antar, a two way portal?" You smile at Ethan.

"Of course! It might benefit you more than anyone else on this planet." Ethan investigates one of the flowers.

"What do you get out of this?" You ask.

"The Wild West is dying, Tess. The Justice League and the Panopticon push from one side to end crime as we know it. Lawyers and supervillains push the other direction, taking control of every criminal they can and killing those they can't. The world has gotten too small for people to breathe. No one has the right to be naughty, to go into the back alleys and the bad part of town anymore. Soon the whole world will be roasting in a suit of armor. They broke the game first, so I am going to fight back to bring another age of fun to this bloody world."

You can live with this idea.

"How can I help?"

[X] "I have an auction for you to attend. One of the items I need for this little spell is being sold by a right brat. Amon Sur is in Metropolis, and he's selling his father's bones."

[X] "I have an assignment in Gotham. Our benefactor in Rosewood has given me the name of someone who wants the body of the TO Morrow robot. His offer is a robot of our own, which could speed things up."

[X] "I am going to need to leave for a mission of my own. In the meantime I would appreciate it if you could watch over Ravenswood in my absence.

WyldCard4 · Apr 10, 2015

[X] "I have an assignment in Gotham. Our benefactor in Rosewood has given me the name of someone who wants the body of the TO Morrow robot. His offer is a robot of our own, which could speed things up."

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 02: 16 EDT

You roll into Gotham City exhausted from an eight hour drive. Ethan had called ahead to get a place to stay with an "old friend." Any friend of Ethan's is someone not to turn your back to.

Ethan's directions take you to an abandoned warehouse district. An abandoned warehouse district in Gotham City. What's next, a motel in Blüdhaven?

There is a well dressed man in a suit waiting for you on the street. He has two pistols in holsters, cowboy style, and something like a Tommy Gun hanging around his chest.

"You could get arrested walking around like that." You say the code phrase Ethan had given you.

"Welcome to Gotham City," The criminal answers with a grin.

You look the car. "What do we do with the car?"

"Leave your keys in the ignition, Miss. Someone should be by to steal it sooner or later, and it's easier to just get another rental than to put it somewhere halfway safe." Gotham City is another country. The man begins walking purposefully down the street.

"My boss said he was friends with your boss." You hurry up to his side, gawking like a tourist. There are girls, definitely girls on the street corner dressed in slutty cop costumes, who call lewdly at your escort to his laughter and a jovial wave. An old woman is shooting up nearby. Windows are broken everywhere and it looks like every street light was deliberately broken.

"Yeah, the boss was happy to hear from him. The happiest I've seen him since the Batman grabbed him. Never took him for a fairy, but the way he went on about your guy gave me some ideas." Mr. Thug nods as you turn onto a street where the whole side of a building is broken down and sprawling outward. A group of kids give the thug Nazi salutes and he laughs.

"Is there a story to them?" You ask curiously.

"Yeah, they're the False Face Youth. This new guy, came in after the Mobs broke down. The man had a real plan, an idea, and a lot of people listened to him. A lot of kids asked to join, but a lot of gangs here have a policy about kids. Black Mask, that new guy, set them all up. They don't do jobs, but they get together, keep each other safe, get like, mentors from the new Mobs. My sister's kids are in it. Cute kids."

You are a bit stunned, but keep on walking. If they go to school is a topic you do not want to touch. A few blocks of twisting and turning later you arrive in another abandoned warehouse exactly like the others. The thug points to a yellow cross.

"Is that your gang sign?" You ask.

"Yeah, you could say that. Scarecrow's gang. The boss doesn't advertise much, but he's one of the best. Go with him and you get real money and smart jobs, not like some of the new guys. The day he asked me to join him I called my momma. He had heard of me. I'm not some nobody anymore, I'm one of Scarecrow's men. People out here, they respect that.

At this point you realize he is bragging to a pretty girl, and a pretty girl in the same line of work as him. It's kind of flattering, in a way.

"I'm Ava. What's your name?" You ask.

"The boss tells me to say Bugbear now. Silliest thing I ever heard, but then he told me about it. a bugbear's a kind of monster under the bed. Lives in the woods and scares kids. I like that. He gives us all names like that. Sure, Bugbear's not the scariest name out there, but if you're working for Scarecrow, and he has all these nasty old names for us then people stop laughing." Bugbear gives you a shit eating grin.

"Oh, if we're being formal, call me Figment." You smile at him. Bugbear walks a bit farther and starts knocking what you realize is some kind of special knock password. A man with a red fedora answers you.

"Howdy Cap! This here is Miss Figment, the lady the boss's friend sent down. Now you treat her good." Cap nods, looking bored. "Follow me Miss Figment, the boss wanted you to come straight to him." He takes you down several flights of stairs into a creepy and shadowed laboratory.

"It is terrific to see you Miss Figment. I am the Scarecrow. Ethan recommends you very highly as a woman not to be messed with. I am happy to provide you with shelter for as long as you would like. Ethan has done more for me than you can imagine." You get why Bugbear thought he and Ethan used to sleep together.

"I can't thank you enough sir. I hope it's not any trouble." You smile at him bashfully.

"Trouble? Oh my dear, no trouble at all. Fortune has been most kind to me this last year. It will be a pleasure to house you while you take care of business." Scarecrow bows.

"Do you have a room I could stay in or something?" You ask hopefully.

"I admit we are not used to guests such as yourself. I live here to be close to my work, and my associates keep apartments nearby. This is the safest place, but not the most comfortable. I would not advise any hotels in the city, as the ones that are safe have security policies which would alert every police department in several states if someone like us tried to rent a room." Scarecrow seems unsettlingly happy with his statement.

"Oh, of course. I understand that this is not the easiest city to get by in. I think I will just..."

[X] "Sleep here for the night." Ethan recommended this man, so he probably won't harm you. Probably...

[X] "Stay with one of your associates it that is alright with everyone." You can handle anyone he could hire, and you are not staying one minute longer in this building than you have to.

[X] Look around the area. I am curious about the city." You are very tired, but you do not want to sleep with any of these creepy Halloween men. You will just have to find someplace safe. In Gotham.

WyldCard4 · Apr 11, 2015

[X] "Sleep here for the night." Ethan recommended this man, so he probably won't harm you. Probably...
-[X] Try to get The Scarecrow talking more about your Mentor. He seems like someone who wouldn't shut up on a subject that has him so enthused.
--[X] And being in his direct company all night will likely keep any of the other potential problems from creeping up that might from being an out of towner in Gotham.
--[X] Creating a trap or two won't hurt
----[X] and a comfy floor wouldn't be amiss either.
---[X] Remove any traps or cameras you find in the room. Scarecrow uses gas weapons, anything that can prevent that is common sense.
----[X] Make the room more comfortable.

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 02: 36 EDT

You start with talking to Scarecrow. "So how exactly did you and Ethan meet?"

Scarecrow laughs. "It was when I was in graduate school. I was just a few blocks from East End, having gotten into graduate school. I was living with a prostitute who went by the name of Phillip and his girlfriend in an apartment in the Sabatino Family territory near the university. It was about fifteen years ago now. I was investigating the history of sub-terrestrials in folklore and how they inspired the theories of Carl Jung." He is getting into it, and then goes over to one of the bottles of the lab and looks at it with some worry.

"Fascinating," You lie. "Tell me more."

"The human psyche is by nature religious, and religion is at root a thing of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of authority, fear of retribution! The sub-terrestrial races, called demons, monsters, ghosts, faeries, were constantly on the edge of human cultures as they developed their collective unconscious separate from the greater Red. Exposure to a Najakot demon, a species still lacking a scientific name, attacking a local wizard out of hunger could inspire a village to apply spider totems and gods to their mythology. As memes spread through the collective unconscious and by human communication, the demons became archetypes. The Devil, the Trickster, and most importantly the Shadow are all shaped by humanity's history of contact with our cousins and predecessors." Crane is excited as he talks and moves rapidly to another part of the room to grab another vial and dropper to mix with the one that first caught his eye.

You realize too late that he took your question as one about the theories of Carl Jung, not his relationship with Ethan Rayne.

"I meant more, what was he like back then?" You say cautiously as he stops talking and moves in on only slightly panicked rush to grab another vial.

"Ah! He was a charming book seller and a major player in the local community of necromancers. Not corpse taking or any of that vileness. Necromancy is an art of spirit summoning and divination, at least among the people who I cannot dare to name to this day that he counseled. Ethan Rayne was second only to the Zataras in those circles of Gotham, and he was considered far more approachable by the more influential members of the city. He would do anything for money in those days, and that is a trait to develop if you wish to survive here for long. He let me read his books in exchange for small errands, and he was very interested in my research." Scarecrow looks rather less worried now. Hopefully he managed to avert this little crisis.

"Who are the Zataras?" You ask curiously. The name sounds very familiar.

"Girl! One of them is in the Justice League! A new member of course, but one with quite a bit of style. He dresses as a stage magician and his magic is deep in the green, so calling on the emotions of others has always been something he benefited from. Giovanni's family is old, and mostly centered on Italy, but his cousin John was in the city, sticking to himself and occasionally displaying the gruesome body of some sub-terrestrial or sorcerer who offended him by crucifying him in Crime Alley and letting people see for themselves. Giovanni moved to a suburb so he could be with his first cousin's family after his wife's death and have family support raising his daughter about seven years ago. He was talked about all the time. He rejected offers that no wise man would have rejected, and the offers stopped being made after he survived the reprisals. They said he wanted to die in those days. He erased memories, cursed, and made a citizen's arrest of a Dimitrov daughter over some truly obscene acts she was allegedly involved in. This is Gotham, so of course things quieted down after the right men talked to the right men, but the Batman started not long after, and rumors said Giovanni was to blame. I don't believe it myself, but half the Families thought that Giovanni had summoned a demon out of Hell itself to plague them. Others merely believed Giovanni had hired him from the League of Shadows. No matter, no one was willing to stand up and go after him, not with his power and relatives. And of course the Blur had his eyes on Gotham, so the Families had more immediate concerns."

Scarecrow can talk a great deal without giving you much to go on. You decide to change the subject to more "immediate concerns" that might give you something to go on. "How is it now? From the sound of it everyone is terrified of the Justice League now."

Scarecrow laughs out loud. "Scared, girl? The lower end are certainly scared, but criminals are men who are wrapped in a career of risk. Like athletes or military men they take great stock in superstition. The RICO act and the FBI's tackling of Gotham has certainly changed things, but Gotham crime is as old as the city. Certainly the Blur testified and hinted and gave names to people who should never have gotten involved. But it is not like their world was all giving the prison unions champagne and smuggling heroin before. Ethan spent years in Dreamland's military predecessor starting before the Blur was even an urban myth, and the RICO act long predated the era I knew. There is always churn from overdoses and suicides and gang wars, and the FBI has come in full of sound and fury to signify business as usual for as long as anyone can remember. The only real change is that new opportunities have opened up for people like myself. The Families are willing to tolerate men of vision and style in the hopes that they will distract everyone from how Gotham is run until the charges are dropped and the sentences are done and the real men are back in charge. This is merely a dramatic setback as far as they are concerned. I myself am merely interested in my work, settling a few scores, and leaving the country with a very comfortable amount of money to fund further experimentation. All I really need is a place where they are willing to do real trials for my creations and I will be able to assemble a plan. That of course and I would love to capture the Batman. I would love to see what truly drives a man like that."

Not a bad plan, really. He almost sounds sane for a man Ethan had mentioned being fired for shooting a gun in a crowded classroom.

You check the nearby lab as Scarecrow works, and find that there are no traps you can detect. You take two disposed hospital scrubs and change them into a nice thin blanket that covers you, covering the outside with a poison akin to stinging nettles. You make the floor soft enough to sink into, forming a quick substitute for a mattress and pillow, and then you are happily set to sleep with one eye open.

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 07: 15 EDT

You awaken to a delighted shriek by the Scarecrow.

"Got another one, boss. Just like you said." A frantic looking fat woman is being led into the room.

"Please..." She moans.

"Oh do not worry dear. If I were to kill you it would defeat the point. I need to understand you after the experiment." Scarecrow is preparing a syringe worryingly quickly. "Before we begin, understand that we now have a standing appointment once a week. Be in your home at 6 AM, and it will be fine. If you move, notify my associate before you do. As long as it is within the city limits I see no problem at all."

"I'll do whatever you want!" She shouts. You watch, feeling rather disturbed by Scarecrow's obvious enjoyment.

"That is excellent news. Outside of that, it is the obvious. You are not to resist or notify any agencies to relocate. If you do, I shall murder one teenaged girl picked at random from the local high school who I believe looks similar to you. The first time an associate does not make the meeting, you are released from all conditions of our contract and I promise you that I shall never set out to contact you again. Are these conditions acceptable to you?" Scarecrow leans in as she nods.

"The serum, boss?" Bugbear asks.

"Of course. Thank you." He holds out his hand and Bugbear returns with another bottle. Scarecrow injects first one, then the other, into her neck and her arm. she does not struggle. "Please escort her out. That is all." He turns back to you. "I know you did not get enough sleep, but it really has to be done here."

"What was that?" You ask.

"I am seeing if I can create a fear response in a pregnant woman sufficient to ensure she does not form a maternal attachment," Scarecrow answers. "If I can do that the psychiatric benefits could be absolutely remarkable. Miscarriage, abortion, early infant death, and giving up a child for adoption are highly traumatic experiences. I have been hired to conduct experiments on the subject." You feel like throwing up. "They requested that I be extremely confidential, of course. Unless Ethan asks I will say no more about them."

"I see." You are a bit shaken. "You know, I think I will see Professor Ivo a bit early as long as I am up. Can that be arranged easily?"

Scarecrow leans forward and kisses your hand. "Of course. Your request is perfectly reasonable. Bugbear, please drive her to the location put into your GPS." You leave the scene as quickly as you can and are glad you haven't eaten since yesterday.

"I would rather not pickup any breakfast, please. I just want to get a move on. I am very excited to meet this Professor Ivo," You explain.

"I never heard of the man. He's not part of the mobs as far as I have heard," Bugbear offers. "Those kind worry me. I don't trust anyone who doesn't want money. That's just unnatural."

"I can't agree more," You assure him.

Professor Ivo is situated in the basement of an active Gotham high school, but it is a Sunday. Gang signs are everywhere, and Bugbear identifies them for you. "The bunch of cute squiggles is Ghost Dragons, they're spooky chinks. Intergang, absolute lunatics from out of town who think they can own the mobs are that boring V thing. False Face Society, hard as shit motherfuckers who are everywhere these days, the colored in smiley face..Jokerz, kids with way too much time on their hand who think the Joker is some kind of Jesus are the ones that are painting over half of them. Ah, that's a Talon sign, not a gang one. Wow, Figment, you're in deep." Bugbear sounds scared.

"Talon?" You ask.

"The lawyers, the ones in the fancy offices at the center of town. The center of every town? That's them in Gotham. They aren't in the mobs, they're not in the city. But when someone says too much, like who they are or talks about the wrong things, people show up dead. Talons, you can say that name. The cops say they're just those 'sub-terrestrials' that science proved aren't demons, but believe me, those things aren't human. They're like the Batman, from Hell." Bugbear crosses himself, a rather worrying sign.

"I am sure he wants to see me, so if Talons guard this place I am allowed entry." You smile at Bugbear as his eyes grow wide.

"What are you, Lady?" You can practically hear the capitalization.

"Figment." You go inside. The basement starts out full of cobwebs and boxes, very dark. After a moment a small robot's eyes begin to glow. You carefully make your way towards the robot, and find the floor turning into a ramp you follow down into the subbasement. This is the lab of a Mad Scientist.

"Greetings, Miss Ava. Miss Vanderwaal called ahead." You decide to pretend to know who that is and tell Ethan about the name when you get back. "I don't see a package that could carry a robot."

"I work for a wizard." You smile and take out your purse. In the purse are your notes, the endless copying of backwards song lyrics. They are full of the attention and feeling of someone who is magically active. Ethan had put that to use. You pull the pages apart and stack them, slowly, into the outline of a man.

"I should have remembered," Professor Ivo remarks.

"There are seven flowers in a vase. The first flower is violet." You say the activation phrase, and the ink runs and turns fluid. "It will be a few minutes. Do we need to wait?"

"Not at all. Now, I have a selection available. I am overproducing for a project that is fast approaching. As general features, are you most interested in firepower, information, or personal assistance?"

"Would you mind elaborating?" You ask.

"First of all there is a robotic belt could give you. The design is basically a refined version of the "ice gun" to simplify matters. It would have a combat prediction algorithm and a neural interface, so you could either use it yourself or let it assist you with its own computer power. I recommend the second option, as it allows for increased multitasking." Professor Ivo looks very proud of himself. "Imagine another super ally in the field with you, watching out for you and helping you. That is one selection."

"That sounds amazing." You admit. "Ethan did say he wanted me to pick, too. I think it is another secret test thing."

"It does not matter to me. The second possibility is what I call the BF Box. It is a small cube with a highly advanced artificial intelligence system. It can scan the internet, local radio waves, and other such sources. I am offering it to you because I built a superior version, but the thing is just too precious for me to destroy. As you communicate with the device he will map your thoughts, moods, plans, and reactions, as well as the others he is in contact with. You will have a dedicated planner assisting you in decision making and information gathering. I advise against hacking, however. The algorithms for that became surprisingly skewed in feedback mechanisms. BF Box becomes obvious and creative when interacting with another computer system and I cannot stop him. For data analysis and plans that is a great feature." Ivo smiles happily now. "I expect he would send me emails, but unless you move against me it would be nothing damaging to you."

"That is very interesting," You say. It sounds amazing and possibly invaluable, but the risks of an unknown AI are obvious. "What is the third option?"

"A rejected model for me current project. Sara." He gestures to a strange blank mannequin. "The most important elements were removed, but she is a fair trade for this, especially with this phase wrapping up. Over a period of two hours she can assume a human form as precisely matched to the human as the data she possesses. Similarly, she has a neural interface. She can slowly read the minds of anyone she is in physical contact with to acquire skills, memories, and social cues. She is an infiltrator and assistant capable of faking humanity." He pats her. "Too fragile for the current project, but I hope to produce more like her. The AI never quite adapted to combat. Reactive, but not creative, and I had to remove anything weaponized for my latest project."

"That is creepy, but also impressive." Ivo seems very satisfied with that.

"So, what will it be?" Ivo asks.

"I assume I can't just take care of all of them for you?" You ask hopefully. He shakes his head and laughs. "It's not a matter of needing them, but I have other debts I need to repay soon, so I can't expend all of my capital before I return from the dead. So what will it be?"

[X] "The ice belt, please." Combat power is combat power, and you barely survived most of them lately. You would feel much safer this way.

[X] "Why is it called the BF Box?" That is clearly the best item here. It's another mind, and a reliable one. An ally, someone who can help you after Ethan is gone. You want it bad.

[X] "Why is she called Sara?" The doll is creepy, but it is the most impressive piece of equipment here. It has thousands of potential uses.

WyldCard4 · Apr 13, 2015

[X] "The ice belt, please." Combat power is combat power, and you barely survived most of them lately. You would feel much safer this way.

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 08: 16 EDT

Professor Ivo places the belt around you waist, making small adjustments until he is sure it is a perfect fit.

"Is that all?" You ask.

"I believe it is." Professor Ivo steps away and touches a ring on his finger. "That is definitely Professor Morrow's work, though the damage is unbelievable. Were you trying to dissect it yourself?"

"I was." You nod. "I have some experience with alien technology, and I thought it might be familiar. I was surprised at how strange it was."

"Professor Morrow is an iconoclast. I am a post-modernist. I look for what works, while Morrow builds everything in his own head. The arrogant fool would have conquered the world if he had any sense about him." Ivo sounds annoyed. "He could have saved the human race, but instead he decided he should destroy it."

"Thank you very much for the belt," You answer. "You know who to call if you have a job for me." Professor Ivo laughs.

"Believe me, I can afford better. We might talk in a few years."

You are annoyed, but decide it is best just to go. You are worried when you see Bugbear is gone. You look around slowly as an illusion runs down the street and away. You slowly back into the lair and make sure no one normal could see you do it.

"Professor Ivo, I think someone is out there." He looks up. "My escort has vanished, and he seemed to be reliable. I am concerned."

"Your escort was one of Scarecrow's officers. A fight should have left distinguishing marks. It is possible I am under attack." Morrow begins turning his ring mechanically. "Ah yes. I believe Catwoman has him restrained and unconscious nearby."

You frown. "She's a villain. Why would she do that?"

"At times she takes on animal rights causes. I believe the Scarecrow has a history of animal experimentation. Perhaps it relates to that." It could also relate to Scarecrow's kidnapping and medically experimenting on pregnant women, but you decide it would be impolite to bring it up.

"Is she leaving?" You ask.

"According to my cameras she is not leaving. She has positioned herself nearby and is waiting. I would advise that you take care of it yourself."

"Advise?" You frown.

"She has no reason to suspect my presence or reason to interfere if she did. I am not allied with Scarecrow. You however are in his debt. She also is likely to be targeting you as she is still here. Catwoman is not my enemy, and I have no reason to keep you here." Being a villain is hard. Well, it's easy for him.

Leaving under a cloak of illusion seems like your best option. You are halfway to the street when you feel a tripwire snap and gas is released. Taking care of that gives time for a dart to hit the back of your neck. Taking care of the dart exposes you more, and you can't even see the blasted villain.

"Figment." A voice rings out and you can't tell the direction.

"Catwoman." Your own illusionary voice rings out from several feet away. "I didn't know I was well known."

"You aren't, baby. I'm just nosy. How about you drop that cute belt of yours and we go our separate ways?" The voice is bouncy, seductive, even when shouted from a distance.

"Not a chance. It's mine. I can beat you." You feel rather confident in this. Catwoman laughs again.

"Of course you can. That's not the choice, cutie. Either you drop that belt and run or I'm calling the League on you." You can't ignore a cat pun about eating a canary hitting your mind from that voice.

"I can escape," You answer. "I've done it before."

"You could escape from a small newbie test team acting on their own. Zatara and J'onzz are here today to interrogate a mob lawyer in front of our DA and his lawyers. They're just bored until Wolfram and Hart can't keep stalling. Do you think anyone in Gotham is going to so much as jaywalk until this is over?"

Your superhearing kicks in and you locate where the voice is coming from. Superhearing is flipped off and an illusion of yourself stays in place while you bolt for the location and let your illusion talk. "You're bluffing. Why would the League listen to you? You're one of us, you'd get caught too!" You find a microphone purring Catwoman's threats.

"I'd get caught in Gotham. I just knocked out a Scarecrow soldier and called the police on criminals. That doesn't even violate my parole, kitty. You're wanted bad for assault." You can't even trace where she's actually talking from. Paranoia makes you wonder if she's even here or if she's using technology tricks, but that doesn't seem like her MO.

"I might kill you," You point out, getting scared, desperate.

"Nah. You're not a killer, not for something like this. And if you do kill me then you go from a little nice to have minion to someone on League and FBI radar as someone to take seriously. Do you want a little five man crew in DC in charge of figuring out who you are and where you are and when someone important can take care of you? That is worth a lot more then some silly belt."

"You have no idea what I've done, Catwoman!" You shout. "You wouldn't make the third biggest reason to track me down."

There is no pause. "Maybe not you, but Figment? Figment is shiny and new. Figment is low key and out of the way. If you wanted to go all big and public you would. Stop bluffing. You've got sixty seconds."

[X] You run for it. Maybe she's telling the truth, maybe she's not. Either way your best shot is to run into Gotham.

[X] You take off the belt and go. You cannot afford getting into this kind of trouble. Too much and you won't be able to learn from Ethan.

[X] You turn your superhearing back on and try to find Catwoman. You have to stop her before she ruins everything.

WyldCard4 · Apr 15, 2015

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 08: 39 EDT

You hear a shuffling and move forward, and come face to face with a frantic cat instead of a human. A beautiful color between black and gray, the cat hisses and jumps past you, running away.

That was weird. You keep looking.

"Time is running out dear girl. The Justice League is only a phone call away, and your dreams will die with a speed dial." Catwoman's voice is melancholy. "Imagine all you are working for evaporating in the blink of an eye." You find another microphone and focus your hearing further. The cat rushes past you again and in the direction of the rustling. Following the cat's streak you see a crouching figure who leaps away from the beast and into view. You see a long, grotesque smile fixed on the face of Catwoman as she swings by her whip from a broken street lamp and rolls underneath a car quick as lightning.

You advance slowly, cautiously, keeping your illusion in place as you answer Catwoman. "You have more to lose. The League will arrest me, but I will kill you and wash your body down into the sewers." You let your superhearing drop out in order to prepare an attack.

"Will you now? I-" You fire furiously at her shoulders, struggling to maintain your illusion as it happens to give her absolutely no warning. Catwoman rolls out from under the car at an incredible pace, leaving a long trail of hot blood as it streams from her shoulder. You see a huge, maniac grin fixed on her face, which does not strike you as a good sign.

"Dear Figment, you do break your toys don't you?" The thief's voice is subdued, and she leaps forward with her bullwhip swinging from her good arm. The whip dissolves before it strikes you and then you shudder with the realization you messed up as you see her fingers bleeding freely along the undissolved handle.

"You're not a toy," You answer.

"You must be mad to go against the Justice League. But then again, I'm not all there myself." Catwoman hits the ground in a crouch, her dissolved fingertips pointing at you while more blood drips from her failing arm. After a moment's thought you burn her hip, which causes her to fall, but she hurls something at you which you fail to catch which hits you in the face. Coughing, you feel the panic rise in your veins. She probably dosed you with fear toxin earlier, somehow. Breaking into a run you see her on the ground, hopping forward in a disturbing gate using all fours, balanced between her less injured arm and less injured leg.

"Mind warped," You realize out loud. You should have seen it earlier. She's ignoring the pain because she can't not ignore it. You turn the ground around her into one of your quicksand pits and think desperately about what to try next. Your heart is pounding, your ears rushing. The cat is circling around the pit, mewling frantically and pawing at the edge.

Then you feel a heavy blow across your back. Distracted with your powers and fear you didn't even notice Bugbear sneaking up behind you with a heavy board. You bleed from a nail embedded in the board. Flexing back you see the vacant look in his eyes and a card perched against his ear. When you dissolve the card he slumps, muttering vaguely.

"Ms. Cat says. Ms..." You ignore him and turn around. Catwoman is pulling herself out of the solidified ground. If the control is anything like Bugbear's it should be a device somewhere around the head, so you dissolve the top of the costume.

The thief screams a long and blood curdling sound. The cat leaps at her and presses its head against her own. "Isis!" The first coherent word from her doesn't make any sense, but it's a better sign.

"Do you remember anything?" You ask her.

She looks up, her face a mess of pain and costume goo. "Walrus. Big walrus." She shakes her head. "What's happening?"

"You were mind controlled into attacking me. Is the Justice League really in Gotham?" You try to control the chemically induced panic in your voice.

"Zatara, Martian Manhunter, I think they were coming tomorrow. Wolfram and Hart leaked it to the papers. Hired..." She shakes her head again, the pain getting to her. You cast a tactile illusion and her body relaxes as the pain vanishes. "You're better than heroin. Jesus, been a while since I felt something like that."

"Figment, illusionist. You pull her out of the ground and the cat leaps protectively on her belly.

"Catwoman, thief. Do you want to call them? Please, this is bad enough as it is."

You shake your head. "You, mind controlled you, was talking about it. I'm afraid whoever was doing that will make the call."

The injured woman flinches, but gains control back at once. "Get me out of here and I will pay you." You look back at Bugbear. He is an ally.

"Do you have a phone on you?" You ask her.

"There's no one I could call. Do you have anyone?" Scarecrow, maybe, but he could take far too long. Every shadow looks like a Green Manhunter and you can't stop shaking just because someone threw a poison at you.

"No one good," You answer honestly. "Even if it's not the League, he could have other people on this, if he has mind control tech." He'd used it on Bugbear so he probably has a lot. You hear sirens off in the distance, but it is Gotham, so it could be for anything.

"We need to move. If anyone saw a fight like this they'd call, even here. Maybe not the police, but the rackets they'd call know what to tell cops if they want a problem to go away. Help me." Catwoman hisses, her eyes darting around. You wonder if she got hit with fear toxin as well.

[X] "Sorry." You get up and run. You have your belt, you're not injured, and you aren't recognizable. You don't need to deal with this.

[X] "I have an idea." You use your powers and begin to make something to haul her. She is going to pay you, after all.

[X] "I need to make a call." You pull out a phone and speed dial Ethan. Your judgment is compromised, and you are an apprentice. This is the time to act like one.

WyldCard4 · Apr 17, 2015

[X] "I have an idea." You use your powers and begin to make something to haul her. She is going to pay you, after all.

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 09: 22 EDT

You sit cautiously in the alley that looks exactly like every other alley you have seen in Gotham except for Catwoman telling you to go into this one, sitting next to the Catwoman and Bugbear.

"You said you would pay me." You bring this up after a long gap of silence and breathing. Catwoman's wounds are closed, thanks to you, but she will obviously need to see a doctor. Her injuries are too severe for her not to need a lot of medical treatment.

"I did," She agrees. "You must be low on the totem pole to want that. I'm surprised you didn't ask for a favor."

You shrug. "I don't have any interest in Gotham. I want something I can carry. It's better to have it and not need it then to need it and not have it. Besides, what could you do for me? There's nothing in particular I want stolen, and I don't need any information about the city. If my employer wanted your services he would have contacted you."

"You're a loyal minion. It's hard to buy that kind of loyalty. What is in this whole thing for you?" The thief sounds thoughtful.

"What are you willing to give to find out?" You are rather curious what she will answer.

"That's a good question. How about this? I tell you something useful and you tell me what I want to know." Without feeling the pain she looks in much better shape than she is, but no need for her to be in pain when she decides to pay you.

You chew this over. No need to insult her. "I will hear it, and if I agree it's important I will tell you."

She smiles. "They aren't hear for some mob lawyer. The Justice League. Psychic interrogation is barely working in the best of cases, and these lawyers don't play nice with it." She kicks back a bit and pets Isis.

"Then why are they here?" You ask.

"They're not," Her answer is matter of fact. "That is the piece of the puzzle I figured out. They have people who look like them, can talk the talk, but probably not walk the walk. The Justice League wants an alibi for those two right now." Isis purrs happily near Selina's face.

"How do you know this?" You ask. This is useful.

"I'm not sure, but it's not just a guess. The Batman on the street is rarely Batman. Maybe only a third of the time. The rumors are true, I know him. At first it was always him, but then it changed. And I know Wolfram and Hart like the back of her paw, they wouldn't let a psychic touch a client with anything useful, and the League knows that. The Justice League is up to something today."

"That is worthwhile information. Thank you, Catwoman. In answer, my employer has begun to teach me magic. I believe that if I stay with him I can become much magically stronger than I otherwise could be. He is also engaged in a significant project that I am highly in favor of that I believe would benefit many people, though I do not have permission to say more about it. As a practical and ideological manner I have a great deal of faith in this path, and I believe my work has impressed my employer in a way that I'm unsure would go over as well with another superior."

She shakes her head. "That is pretty impressive. How long has it been since you got us here?"

You shrug. "45 minutes, maybe? I wasn't keeping track."

"Should be long enough to make a phone call. It won't send up quite the alert it would have on the scene." She pulls it out. "I just need to make a call and someone will deliver your payment in full and take me home."

Gotham City, New Jersey- July 25, 10: 12 EDT

Catwoman's ally, Holly, arrives much later than you expected. Isis leaps into her arms happily and Holly strokes her nose to tell. "I was wondering where you went," She says to the cat. "Here it is." She hands you a small box.

"This isn't money," You answer suspiciously.

"Last eighteen wire transfers someone tried to pay me with were hacked within six hours. These days cash serial numbers are recorded in cash registers and it's too bulky to carry non-suspicious notes. Jewelry is either notable or worthless these days." Catwoman sounds like she is patiently explaining to a newbie, which you guess you are.

Oh shit. You open the box and glance inside. "Meteor Rocks? You're paying me with that?" A leptokinetic nudge proves you can't transmute it.

"If you're not staying in Gotham that's the best I can do on short notice without a lot of information about you or a lot of promises. This is fast and lets you do whatever you need to do."

You close the box tightly. "This box can hold it well, right?"

Holly nods. "I swear. I wouldn't be carrying it if it wasn't."

You are about to storm off when you remember Bugbear is still unconscious. "Take care of him, get him help, and we're square." Holly nods, and you leave.

Gotham Estates, New Jersey- July 25, 10: 32 EDT

You call Ethan and explain what happened.

"What she did was fair. Meteor Rock is an accepted medium of exchange in most of the criminal underworld for the reasons she suggested. Law enforcement is increasingly desperate to strangle the free flow of finance. I believe she overestimated the number of chipped cash registers, but they are an initiative by the Wayne Foundation and could easily be that common there. The initial resistance to the process is believed to have given the FBI too much information on the rackets to be maintained. However, cash is not as traceless as it was, so she has a point. I don't think we actually have a use for Meteor Rock yet, but it is extremely easy to trade, if a felony to carry."

"I have enough felonies already. Want me to come back?" You look out at the suburb, which has a long wall with check points you needed to illusion your way through to protect itself from Gotham.

Ethan is silent for a moment. "There is a possible assignment for you, but I would understand if you wanted to wait for a run at it. Your recent acquisition also helps with this. Abin Sur's bones are being sold in Metropolis." You snort.

"Abin Sur what?" The old Green Lantern was being cut up and sold.

"Everything is quite above board. His son recently came to Earth in the man's old space ship. The rumor is that he wants superpowers of his own, and wants the money to do it." Ethan sounds amused.

"Can money even do that?" You ask.

"Well, it would destroy a large fortune, but he might have that fortune soon enough. There are options. Magical artifacts, alien technology, becoming a wizard, Meteor Rock procedures. Amon Sur is dedicated. One of his bones would actually be quite useful to this project, metaphysically. He was on every world that I am trying to contact, and his species does not regrow bones. It would be a powerful talisman to reinforce the spell to have something like that."

"Metropolis." You remind him. "Metropolis, Kansas. Superman. Lives. There. They say there's not a gang left, that the city is powered by something from a space ship, that he stops two thirds of the accidents there."

"I suspect the statistics are exaggerated. Even if they are not, you don't want to do anything criminal, you want to bid legally on a publicly available good." Ethan sounds a bit worried.

"With what money?" You ask. "I don't think the weight in Meteor Rocks would cover it."

"I have promised a favor to someone. A very big favor, admittedly. Money will not be a problem. Ensuring the bone is not stolen is in my opinion the largest issue in play."

"How exactly do you have that much money? What did you promise?" You are not in a good mood.

"Technically, you are going to be stealing from the younger sister of Queen Bee of Bialya, who is bidding for her country. She contacted a friend of a friend with a request for a spell and an offer of treason. My request is by far the least disturbing of the bidders who could provide the spell." Ethan's voice is a bit disappointed at that.

[X] "I'm on my way." Ethan wouldn't ask you for this if it wasn't important.

[X] "See you in Rosewood." This strikes you as plausibly another test of your competence. They are starting to get on your nerves.

[X] "I can meet with her, but not in Metropolis." You don't want to get near Superman, but you can see the merits of taking it home yourself.

WyldCard4 · Apr 18, 2015

[X] "I'm on my way." Ethan wouldn't ask you for this if it wasn't important.

Richmond, Indiana- July 26, 13: 22 EDT

You sleep in an Indiana motel, finally resting enough, and dawdle in the town a bit. This place should be far from the prying eyes of superheroes and not a priority for the endless octopus arms of the law. Something like a real breakfast in a diner, a long shower, and not being in a car for a while lift your spirits.

You go to a local library and read up on the Abin Sur auction. Amon Sur son of Abin Sur had apparently arrived on Earth several months before, but had been keeping his arrival discrete until he felt he was comfortable making deals with Earthlings. Amon Sur does not speak English and apparently lacks translation technology, and is employing a former Hork-Bajir-Controller to translate for him. The few reports about the man indicate a somber individual prone to apparent outbursts at his translator, but given the nature of the translator that could be understandable. Hork-Bajir are little more intelligent than a human toddler, so relying on one for communication would be quite frustrating. The Hork-Bajir, Mab Hullan, is himself relying on a human assistant. The whole situation appears rather agonizing for all three of them, and the operation appears to be rather in debt until the auction is complete.

Amon Sur had also brought with him a variety of other materials, but they are all in one of the Ungaran languages, which make translation difficult. The language, academically labeled Ungaran-3, exists in only a few dictionary programs that can provide low end translation. Ungara's civil war had made cultural exchange over Z-Space communicators difficult. As a general rule both Earth and Ungara had historically found other planets more interesting than each other.

You feel a bit sorry for Amon Sur, but his father knew all the planets in the Sector. He has to have chosen Earth for a reason.

You are about to leave the town when you are surprised by a man walking down the street. Green skinned and red horned, you briefly mistake him for a Green Martian. On a closer examination he is something a bit more rare and not something you are familiar with. Weighing the risks, you decide that the chance to talk to an alien is worthwhile.

"Hello sir. I'm sorry to bother you, but..."

"Is my tie really so hideous? Or do I have something on my shoes? I just bought them. Now, babe, you are just cute as a button, but why did you have to do that to your hair?" He gives you a very human smile.

"What's wrong with my-" You pull back your hair, currently black, sensitively.

"Believe me little lady, you can't just go around with any old dye job. Someone with your face needs a professional. Where exactly do you live? Because this is just a tragedy and I need to give you a better hairdresser."

"A town in Pennsylvania. It's pretty out of the way and I just moved." You keep pace with him as he keeps walking.

"Now that's a crying shame. And I have to wonder what a sweet thing like you is doing all the way out here if you just moved to Pennsylvania." He sounds a bit distracted.

"It's just a job. Sorry, I guess I just got excited. I don't see aliens much and I've always, well, liked them." You realize that your excitement distracted you from the fact that you had no plan or reason to go after this.

"So that's what they're calling us these days? It's demon, sugar. Or friendly sub-terrestrial in Gringo-speak. Alien is just a way of saying I don't belong here when I have a show to get to and my bus is broken down. Unless you can fix a bus when the mechanic has absolutely no idea what's wrong with it I really need to get back to the auto-shop." He waves his hands in a gesture of disgust.

"Well, actually..."

Richmond, Indiana- July 26, 14: 22 EDT

"Well ain't that the darndest thing." "Lorne" shakes his head. "Just goes to show that a pretty face can get you everywhere."

"It's just..." You pause for a moment and try to explain without giving too much away, and look over the "tools" you "used" to repair the bus. "I never really felt like I belonged here. It's like there's somewhere I've never been that I can still miss." The smallest of lies. You were there, once.

"Oh, baby doll. You have no idea how much I hear ya'. Where I come from is a place without music. A world of pure good and evil, black and white. No nuances, no shades of gray. I hated every minute of it. Compared to this a place like Richmond Indiana is paradise, and L.A. is Heaven."

"You like it here?" You ask it thoughtfully.

"More then you can imagine." Lorne looks at you thoughtfully. "I've got a bit of a party trick. Demon power you could call it. Mind belting a few bars for me?"

"What?" You practically choke.

"Come on. Whatever comes to mind. Right off the top of your head."

I won't leave/I can't hide/I cannot be/Until you're resting here with me..." You stop as Lorne raises his hand.

"Slow down. That's a lot. Girl..." He is silent for a moment.

"What did I do?" You ask.

"I am leaving right now," He answers. His expression is suddenly very serious. "You are going to keep on driven' and I am going to get to my show. I can't help you, but you're going to do that." You pause and focus, trying to activate your aura sight. You see curls of bright blue swirling too hard for you to see anything else. "Believe me, this is the right path." He gets right into the bus and pulls out so quickly it seems dangerous.

"Well, that's interesting." You smile. This looks good indeed.

Metropolis, Kansas- July 28, 1: 22 EDT

You get the phone call when you are fast asleep from days of driving and excitement and jet lag. You are staying in a small Metropolis hotel that Ethan recommended.

"Ethan?" You ask sleepily.

"It's Marcia. The woman you are meeting, Figment." You try to jerk awake, but you have had too many days of driving to do it this quickly.

"What is it?" You mutter.

"Someone's in my room. The Tipton Hotel, New Troy, Raven Street." You get out of bed and transmute a thin layer of clothing.

"Why me?" You ask.

"You're the one sent to protect me. Please..." There's huge crashing sound. "Help me!"

[X] "I'm on my way!" You pause, and suddenly have a flash of want. You transmute yourself a costume out of the bed sheets, and are off.
-[X] Costume.

[X] You can't go running into a mess like this. Not this easily. You dial Ethan. You can handle the rescue, but not protecting the girl.

[X] You calmly call the police. It is a bit risky under the circumstances, but this is their job.

Young Justice Plus

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