The "Ultimate DC Universe" RPG, Season 3.0

[MST3K 4ever]

"You lying midget! You can't read minds honey, you just shrink, nothing less or more, so don't try and be all Wonder Woman on me and pretend you do good for the world. I was smiling she had gone into the window, because I was happy she was alive and no one can tell me otherwise. I know your plan Atom, you healed Harley Quinn because you're working with her! You distracted us so Harley had time to escape, you also want to shift it onto me so little old ex-prostitute over here don't get her claim to fame! Making things up is seriously pathetic, it's for one reason, jealousy and last time I checked, jealousy is envy and envy is a sin and superheroes aren't meant to be sinners! Now let me go out of these things!" Zatanna shouts back, she struggles from the cuffs holding her down.

Black Canary makes a few humming sounds as her ears tune into the Atom and Zatanna. The Huntress is leaning back on the computer, and the driver is fetching tea. Black Canary finally opens her mouth.
"I think Huntress is better than you two" Black Canary confesses, the Huntress rolls her eyes and turns to the computer.
"Oh...., looks like Wonder Woman's in Gotham, sounds--" Black Canary gets up and nudges the Huntress.
"Listen ladies, we've all done bad in the past and i'm sure this was all a misunderstanding. Now do you want to unite together or just stay here strapped up and squabbling like teenage girls?" Black Canary had a mother tone to her voice, that was not like her.

The Atom rolled her eyes. The cuffs lifted up, the Atom jumped up, she launched for Zatanna as she got up. The Atom punched Zatanna. Zatanna hurled backwards, back into Black Canary.
"SLTOB YGRENE!" Zatanna sent an energy bolt into the Atom, the Atom had no time to shrink. The energy bolt blasted into the Atom and sent her flying back into the far wall.
"That took care of her!" Zatanna exclaimed, Black Canary held back Zatanna, she twisted her round and slapped her.
"What did you do to her!"

The Driver slowly came in, she had left the tea somewhere else.
"What happened here?" She asked, observing an unconscious Atom. The Zatanna quickly jumped out of Black Canary's hold and slammed her leg into her stomach. Zatanna ran to the exit, pushing pass the driver. Zatanna breathed in the fresh air of dawn and ran down the path, she suddenly stopped.
"REAPPASID!" A cloud of smoke conjured into the air, it swirled round Zatanna. Zatanna could hear the Huntress shouting after her. An arrow was shot towards her, but it was too late. Zatanna was gone, leaving the Atom, Black Canary and the rest, behind.

The purple smoke re-appeared in a dark, gloomy cave, two girls stood over a round table.
"I'm ready for business, has Enchantress and Nightshade healed?"
"No, they're not ready yet, but we still have a good roster"
"So, let's go and see the Sentinels of Magic"

The Atom slowly regains her senses. She sees Zatana is gone.

She growls, "NO! She got away!"

The Atom screams in frustration. Black Canary tries to calm here down, "Atom she fooled us all. No use in going ballistic. We'lll see here again. "

The Atom looks at Canary and says, "I don't care. What's the point in all of this everyone I work with has either died like Marvel, betrayed me liek Zatana, or doesn't give a damn like Batman."

Canary says, "Not everyone. I know you were telling the truth now. We trust you."

The Atom says, "Thanks, right now though I heard Wonder Woman is here meaning she is probably with others. I haven't screwed up that relationship think I'll try to find her. See you all around the town."

With that the Atom shrinks down and floats away to look for the others.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

ex Luthor​

"Out of the question. I swore an oath of anonymity, renounced the public life to carry out my mission in secrecy. To step out of the shadows would be heresy."

Luthor had convinced his guest to merge his organization with the Society, to combine efforts in the name of the greater good--a greater good that, together, could actually be achieved. However, it was the idea of becoming a public figure within the Society's ranks that he would not agree to.

"Surely you of all people realize the importance of hiding in plain sight," Lex argued.

Luthor saw the man starting to consider it, so he pushed a little more.

"Tell me," he began, "why do you think Superman doesn't wear a mask?"

"I would assume it would be to cultivate trust."

"That's true, but not the whole story. He wears a bright costume, face easily visible, to gain people's trust, yes--but also to throw off suspicion. No one sits around and wonder who Superman 'really is' because we can see who he really is plain as day. Batman wears a mask because he's got something to hide. The Flash wears a mask because he's got something to hide. But Superman? He lets himself be seen, so that no matter what he has to hide, the public won't even be looking for it. People assume that the alien is a muscle-headed fool, but it's actually quite brilliant.

"And that is precisely what the Society does as well. Every one of us in the inner circle is a very public figure, letting our connections be known precisely to avoid the sinister connotations of secrecy. And now that your organization will be cooperating with us, you'll need to be known as well. Take refuge in audacity. Hide in plain sight. It's what has kept me out of prison for so long, after all."

His guest let a silence fall between them while he thought it over, and Luthor waited patiently for his answer.

"Yes," he finally agreed. "I will be seen, though they will not see me at all. I will take on the guise of the man I once was, so we may do our work right before the eyes of the world and still keep it hidden, until it is too late to stop us."

"Excellent. The Society will be more than happy to welcome the international mogul Henri Ducard into our ranks," he said grandly, "and will gladly shape the future with the help of our new ally, Ra's al Ghul."

Giganta pulls out the PDA and sets it up to transmit a picture to Luthor of Giganta and Cheetah shaking hands. With the caption underneath, "Mission Accomplished returning home."

 

[Spike_x1]

"Gotcha Wondy!"

Barry leaned forward into a sprinters pose and rocketed towards the heart of the city, dodging the plasma blasts as they came at him in what seemed to be slow motion. The closer he got to the giant Wayne Tower in the center of town, the heavier the opposition became.

As the Flash raced onward, dodging and weaving through the oncoming fire, Superman was taking the more direct route through the opposition. Plowing straight through the blasts of plasma, Superman either knocked out or disarmed every one of the officers in his path. Emerging from one of the many explosions around him caused by the onslaught with one of the officer's guns in his hand, Clark chose to display the futility of their actions to the members of this army who remained standing.

"Yeah, your shots sting a bit, but you're all still a long way from actually hurting me." Holding up the futuristic weapon in one hand for all to see, Superman crushed it like paper. As the rifle's high-tech circuitry fizzled out and the military forces wondered about their options, Clark hoped that he'd bought the Flash enough time to reach Wayne Tower unnoticed and unscathed. "Ball's in your court."

 

[Andy C.]

ex Luthor
​

Luthor was pleased how the meeting with 'Mr. Ducard' had gone. Before taking up his more interesting profession, he had been an international philanthropist, and an outspoken environmental activist--which Luthor assumed was a front to fund his organization's true intent. Still, it would make it a little easier to reintroduce him to the public. Meanwhile, the name and word of Ra's al Ghul would be instrumental to opening up most of the major Asian governments and markets to the Society's influence.

Already, the major roadblocks of Project Wildfire were either being swept away, or brought into the fold.​

"Mr. Luthor," L-Soft chimed, "you have received a new message from agent Giganta."

"Bring it on-screen."

Giganta pulls out the PDA and sets it up to transmit a picture to Luthor of Giganta and Cheetah shaking hands. With the caption underneath, "Mission Accomplished returning home."

Luthor's smile widened. Miss Zuel was doing an absolutely phenomenal job of organizing his second project, and doing so cleanly. He had already promised her a hundred acres of any land she chose, but in the long run, she might get a good bit more than that.

"You have also received notification from General Eiling, Mr. Luthor. Ambassador Stephens has been removed. As requested, the Daily Star and CNN are placing more focus on the fabricated sex-scandal than his opposition to the Society."

Lex allowed himself a brief chuckle. Stephens an idealistic fool, who had no clue what was really at stake. A 'would-be New World Order' indeed. That wasn't even the half of it.

"Any word on the Despero situation?"

"He has not been sighted since his appearance in Gotham City. There is conflicting information, but reports say that rather than engage the GCPD as per their challenge, he instead encountered and defeated the Batman, as he did the other costumed vigilantes."

Lex's face soured. A major part of the Society's revised stratagem was that Despero run through the conventional military, in order to facilitate an easier transition period. If the alien wasn't causing significant destruction on his own, perhaps the Society would have to frame him for some before Superman and his kind destroyed him.

What's more, he was rather hoping to persuade the Batman out of hiding. Someone of such inimitable talents would have no end of good uses inside the Society, especially when the final confrontations were at hand. Then again, he had hired Deathstroke specifically to deal with the 'Caped Crusader' should he resist. So one masked assassin would have to do for now.

"How are the cities coming along?"

"Far ahead of schedule, Mr. Luthor. Once the reverse-engineered OMAC technology was added to your original designs, the delivery systems have made dramatic advances under the lead of Dr. Quintum. The colonies now have tripled in their potential capacity, and run at nearly 100% energy efficiency.

"The delivery systems proposed by Dr. Sivana are nearly ready for a test-launch. However, there is still debate over how such distances can be travelled in a viable time-frame."

"That's what my next meeting today is about. The final piece I need for Wildfire to truly spread, and an outside source has practically dropped it in my lap. Has he arrived yet?"

"He is currently waiting with Miss Tessmacher. I shall instruct her to let him in."

"Good. How could I ever orchestrate all of this without you, L-Soft?"

"You could not."

Luthor frowned, but shrugged off the remark as the inventor walked into the room.

He wasn't the typical frail, wormish type like Dr. Sivana. Rather, he had the look of a seasoned adventurer, the type who would have had dime-novels written about him in the old days. How this man wound up dabbling in super-science was a bit of a mystery.

"I'm glad to meet you finally; word of your breakthrough has sent shockwaves through the scientific community. But I'm sure you already know that, Mister....Hunter, is it?"

"That's right. Rip Hunter." He extended his hand, smiling a salesman's smile. "And I think you're going to want to see this for yourself."

 

[trustyside-kick]

OOC: Previously...

Orin had gotten everything he needed in order to ready himself for the short journey ahead to the mystical city of Thierna Na Oge. He had his coral blade sharpened, and the small cracks and indentions in his armor chest plate were quickly attended to. His golden chain mail that was damaged when the Sea Serpent clawed at him and tried to swallow him hold was replaced with a new, fresh one just like it. The golden gauntlets that Orin wore were also shined and repaired in the small areas that needed repairing.

"I do not believe I have ever seen such bravery, as you have demonstrated in the span of but a week."

Slipping on the golden chain mail, Orin turns to the unknown figure to his left at the doorway. Of course though, when he sees the Atlantean before him he can easily deduce it was none other than the great Atlantean warrior Vulko had planned to escort Orin to the mystical city.

"Now, now, Rodunn. You say that as though you yourself have not showcased such bravery, or even greater bravery than I."

"Well then, I suppose we shall truly see in Thierna Na Oge won't we?"

The two warriors smile. And as warriors, they embraced each other in a firm handshake as Rodunn walks in. Orin walks back over to pick up his armored plating, and Rodunn admires his coral blade.

"Such a beautiful, precious thing...and yet, so lethal at the same time."

"Aye, like a woman."

"You refer to Nuliajuk."

Orin places his two gauntlets onto his wrists, and walks over to Rodunn, picking up his sword.

"What was it like? Being mere inches from Death itself as it breathed onto your neck."

"Death itself? You speak as though you have never been in battle to mistake her for Death. No. She...was something else entirely. She's indescribeable. She has no name other than the one your people have labeled her with. Nothing really makes sense to me really, but it could have just be her because of her supposed witchcraft."

"Are you doubting the credibility of the Poseidian people? Of the entire Atlantean people?"

Orin's mouth smiles as Nuidis Vulko makes an appearance, turning his head. Strange how quickly they had created a friendship that Orin could detect the sarcasm in Vulko's eyes. Smirking, Orin replies.

"Not by any means. I merely suggest that there is nothing in this world that cannot taste Death by my hand; by my sword. Not even the Gods. A sea witch shall be no different. I was bred and raised by the Sea herself."

There is a sudden discomfort amongst Vulko's posture, but he hides it well as he walks into the room, and takes his seat.

"So it is your intent to slay the creature?"

"Is there any other way?"

Again, Vulko is overcome with discomfort, but this time Orin catches it. Vulko's eyes trail off to the corner as Orin's hone in on him. Dazed, Orin begins to wonder what thoughts could be wandering through Nuidis' mind. But at the same time...by the look on Vulko's face he doesn't want to know. Rodunn's firm and strong slap on Orin's shoulder blade wakes Orin from his apparent trance.

"Well then, shall we be off? I haven't laid my eyes on the scum of Thierna Na oge in quite some time. Always a pleasure to overpower sorcery with a sword. Let the savages cling to their old, dark ways. They stand no chance against a band of Atlantean brothers."

Nodding at Rodunn, Orin looks over at Vulko.

"I suppose this is goodbye, my friend. While I no doubt know I shall come back victorious...should the Sisters of Fate deem otherwise...thank you for your hospitality. You have shown me that there is some tribes amongst this Atlantean oceanscape that is humble and just."

 

[Blacklight]

As the Flash raced onward, dodging and weaving through the oncoming fire, Superman was taking the more direct route through the opposition. Plowing straight through the blasts of plasma, Superman either knocked out or disarmed every one of the officers in his path. Emerging from one of the many explosions around him caused by the onslaught with one of the officer's guns in his hand, Clark chose to display the futility of their actions to the members of this army who remained standing.

"Yeah, your shots sting a bit, but you're all still a long way from actually hurting me." Holding up the futuristic weapon in one hand for all to see, Superman crushed it like paper. As the rifle's high-tech circuitry fizzled out and the military forces wondered about their options, Clark hoped that he'd bought the Flash enough time to reach Wayne Tower unnoticed and unscathed. "Ball's in your court."

"Correction, my friend..." the Green Lantern interrupted as he arrived on the scene, pushing the hordes of soldiers back with a huge green construct of a bulldozer. The men were all pushed away from them as easily as dirt shoveled by a real bulldozer...

"Rack up another point for the good guys."

 

[Green Lantern]

As Green Lantern and Superman drew the fire and notice of all the soldier/cops, Barry ran as fast as he had ever run before. Several sonic booms echoed through the city, and windows all around him shattered and rained glass on the empty streets. All Barry could think was that this was the one thing a totalitarian government might be good for, less collateral damage to worry about. As he reached the central building of the city, he thought to himself, Do I just knock on the door? Nah.

The glass door shattered around him as he just plowed into the lobby of Wayne Tower and bolted towards the stairwells. They were covered by metal emergency doors. No matter, the doors collapsed on themselves as Barry ran through them at mach 3. About a minute later he had reached the top floor.

 

[Mercy]

OOC: Previously...

"I'm so glad you gave up that fake showbiz act." The dark figure stated. Zatanna walked around the dark cave, she had been given a black, knight sort of outfit to wear. Zatanna felt tied down. She wanted to be free, go show her magic to the world. But, apparently there were rules. Big ones, especially for magic. Zatanna tried to search for the dark figure, but everywhere she searched, nothing. She gathered up the information. She knew who was awaiting her in the lurking shadows. A ghost from her past, perhaps?

 

[MST3K 4ever]

The Atom continues floating through the Gotham night skies.

 

[RamsesIII]

"What's the point? That's a question we all should ask ourselves more often. Because when any logical person thinks about it for any length of time, they realize that there is no point. Who cares who has the nicest car, nicest house, or the most money? At the end of the day, it all disappears. Even madmen are eventually forgotten. So what's the point? To survive? Maybe that's what we were made for, but who says we must do what we were originally made to do? Even that's a trite thought nowadays. So why don't people get it? The point of life, is to live. Live, live, live... till you can't live no more..."

These are some of the thoughts that enter the Quiz's head as she enters Arnel's, a Cuban food joint in Metropolis. She's dancing to music no one can hear.

Arnel was tired. It had been a busy day at the restaraunt. People were really frightened of this "Bloodsport" fellow who had been so near. Couldn't supervillains be a bit more damn considerate? Anyway, he had been dealing with the aftermath of that fiasco, and was very tired. So when this mysterious lady walked into the restaraunt with a gas mask and a gown, he figured he was drunk. Or was this another super-powered freak? Maybe this time a super-powered freak had come to attack his restaraunt!

He gazed at her in suspense as she walked right past him and towards the Ernest Hemingway picture.

Grasping for something to say in a situation that refused words, he turned to her. "Miss, could you please turn that blasted music down?" After a moment he realized there was no music. She turned and her look penetrated him even through the mask.

"Oh... well then... never mind... hehe... just go about doin' whatever you were doin'."

You can imagine his surprise when Ernest Hemingway left the photograph, and then the restaraunt, with the strange woman.

He lept towards the phone, but as soon as he picked it up, he put it back down. What was there to report? "A lady in a gown and gas mask... yes... the gown was green with question marks on it... yeah... and she... well... she took Ernest Hemingway out of this photograph I have of him... Yes ma'am, I'm aware he's been dead for a while now. No, I didn't realize his old home in Florida was filled with beautiful cats..." It would have been too weird.

Edit: Fixed the font for the character's with quotes.

 

[RamsesIII]

Aaron- average security guard.
He just makes sure all (the whiny) people
are safe and all is good. It's not that hard.
Who would attack random businesspeople?

Nobody.

"That's Mister, to you." He entered the lobby. He was talking, but there wasn't anybody there. It was probably just another schizophrenic wacko from off the streets. But why did he look so weird? It almost hurt Aaron's eyes to look at him, but he walked up to the strange thing anyway.

"Hey. You. Sir. Do you have any business being here?"

The man stared into Aaron's eyes for a second. "Not particularly. I was just going to throw Ernest Hemingway off your roof."

Aaron didn't know why, but for some reason he let the man pass. He then proceeded to unbuckle his belt and take off his pants. He wasn't sure why he did that either, nor did he care. He proceeded out into Metropolis yelling, "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Mr. Nobody had a thing for poetry. The Quiz could never stand reading his mind. His thoughts always seemed eccentric and... well... they were always in poetic form. She never asked him why because she knew there wasn't an answer. Unfortunately, sometimes he thought so loud she couldn't help but overhear.
So it wasn't odd when, as he walked by a table in the lobby, she heard him think:
"Is that a pen I see? It looks so new!
Should I take it? It would be no great crime
when compared to my others- not a few.
No more criminal than taking a lime...

But that is the crime I deny the most!
A crime with a purpose- I abhor most...
'Tis I who took the lime!' I will not boast.
Most unlike my father- now but a ghost.

For as a boy- I am ashamed to say-
walking through a supermarket, I saw
a big, sublime lime. I took it away
and ate it, but it was sour- a flaw!

After that, I vowed never to have it.
A purpose- the most vile piece of..."

He thought the pen moved,
But he realized he was mad,
like sand in Brooklyn...

"Alas! The table looks like a grand throne
A pedestal to display grand objects
If only I could be with it- alone
Why, I don't want extramarital sex!

Neither are married. What makes it so wrong?*
I want its fluid** with me, forever.
Its cap is lovesick for me... not a prong!
Its writings a love-sick code..." However,

He would never steal again for himself.
Not even the pen- so perfumed with grace.
He went into the elevator, an elf
without toys*** and rose to a higher place.

Some things are too weird to say normally.
The pen went up too, but more formally.****

* It's apparently quite common for a man to love a pen to this degree. 'Sex with pen' gets 13,600,000 hits on Google.
** For those naughty-minded readers who are thinking otherwise, Mr. Nobody meant 'ink' but simply said 'fluid' to keep with the metrical consistencies of iambic pentameter.
*** Though we are pretty sure this is simply a metaphor, one cannot help but wonder if this is somehow connected to the 'elf with a gun' phoenomenon.
**** The Quiz stated in a recent interview, "I always felt uncomftorable shapeshifting into a pen around Mr. Nobody after that incident."

A few minutes later in the lobby, one could hear a British woman singing "Copacabana." The strange thing was, she was sleep-walking. Nonetheless, with a strange box in one hand, she pressed the elevator button with the other. No one prevented her from getting in the elevator.

So by this time, when a third person came in, no one noticed. He looked ordinary and simply had an extra shirt with him. There was the matter of him yelling "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" at himself, but that was a comparitively minor quirk after the day's events. He pressed the button and he, too, ascended.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I looked at everyone on the roof. I noticed Mr. Nobody looked pleased with himself.

"So what did you all bring?" Mr. Nobody asked. You could tell he was the leader. Who else would assemble such a group of misfits: a guy who turns into a cloud and absorbs people (unfortunately keeping their voices in his head,) a girl who has powers only when she's sleepwalking, and a germophobe with the power to do anything? And who else would have this team scour Metropolis, having a competition to look for the strangest thing they could find... on his birthday?

"Well, I mugged a cop (Hey! Where is my shirt?), and took (Who got my shirt?) his shirt (I want my shirt!). I absorbed him afterward (I can't go around like this!) I'm starting (I'm cold) to (It really is cold in here) SHUT UP!... *ahem* regret it. He's a real yapper," The Fog said.

Mr. Nobody looked displeased. Apparently attacking a cop wasn't random enough for him.

Sleepwalk, who was now awake, spoke up, "I took a cat and put it into a metal box. I threw it against the wall a couple times. Is the cat alive or dead? Who knows?"

Mr. Nobody took the box from her. "Oh, Sleepwalk, you got me a Schoedinger's cat?... you should have!" He seemed delighted with his new gift.

I led Ernest Hemingway to Mr. Nobody."I brought him for you... It's Ernest Hemingway..."

"Haha! This is almost the best gift ever! But wait! Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Here is the winner of the competition and my favorite gift." We all waited in suspense.

"I got myself a big, juicy orange,
as opposed to getting a... a... door hinge!'

Very pleased with himself, he showed us an orange.

Looking at us happily, he proceeded to chuck the orange off the roof. Then he took the crate with Schrodinger's cat and threw it off.

The shirt was next. "(MY SHIIIIIIIIIIIRT!!!) SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!! *ahem*... Excuse me..."

Finally he led Hemingway right to the edge of the roof. Putting his foot on the man's back, he declared, "Before extinguishing your appetite for beauty, ecstasy, sugar, philosophy, mathematical and poetic metaphysical pepper and cucumbers, Before disinfecting you with vitriol, cleansing you and shellacking you with passion, Before all that, we should take a big antiseptic bath, and we warn you, we are murderers."

With a push of his foot he kicked the poor author off the roof. And that's the last time I ever saw Ernest Hemingway.

 

[Snapper_Carr]

[Didn't fit continuity....new app is pending]

 

[Shemtov]

Ultimate Jay Garrick, Mercury:
I had escaped from Amanda Waller's Facility 5 months before . I was living under the false name "Harry Lampert". I had rented an apartment in Keystone City. This was, ironically, with money that Waller had provided me in case I ever had to go on a mission.
I was lazing around on my couch, watching TV, when there a was a sudden BOOM. About 50 men in Checkmate Uniforms came crashing through my wall.
" Hands up, Mr. Garrick. You are property of Checkmate."
So they had found me. It was expected.
"I'm Nobodys property".
I dashed foward punching down every one of them at super-speed.
Was that all? i thought. They know I'm a Meta there has too be more......
I was right.
There was a green flash, and a women's voice.
"Jay, You better surender now. I outpower you......"

 

[Andy C.]

ex Luthor​

Lex had to admit, he was impressed. Virtually all of the world-shaping technology that had set his company--and by extenstion, the country--decades ahead of the rest of the planet had all been his own design. Even the OMAC technology he had stolen from Brainiac resulted in a thousand different devices that barely bore a passing resemblance to their common progenitor. So it was nice, for once, to see a startlingly advanced invention come from someone else.

"The principle of the belt isn't too far off from your average personal teleporter, the ones you yourself brought to the public," Rip Hunter began, somewhat disappointing Lex in knowing that the idea was not wholly Hunter's own, "but with several augmentations to the dimensional-membrane bore. Whereas your regular teleporter has enough power to create a rift in the first three dimensions, this baby allows a temporary rift in the fourth."

"Yes, I'd read your article on the device already--very radical theories you've been proposing, many that I'd like to see put to the test. However, until then, they're all still just theories, aren't they? What proof do you have that your device even works?"

"Do you happen to have a copy of Da Vinci's 'Last Supper' handy?"

Luthor arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

"I'm third from the left at the table."

"L-Soft, show me 'Last Supper' from the image archive."

"It will be done, Mr. Luthor."

A small projector raised up from Lex's desk, and produced the legendary painting across the opposite wall. Lex studied it for a moment, scrutinizing the master's work....

"Ha! I thought you looked familiar!"

Rip beamed like a son whose father had just seen him score his first touchdown.

"So, what do ya say? Are you interested in the project?"

"Absolutely, Mister Hunter. LexCorp, and the Society itself, will be more than happy to take you on board and see what we can do to make the most out of your invention. I used to think there's no telling what the future will hold for us, but with you on board, that old saying will have to finally be retired, won't it?"

"Well, we might have a bit of a hang-up there. The fourth-dimensional rifts only hold for a certain amount of time, riding backwards through time on a massive tachyon stream generated some point in the near future. Whatever it is...there's a massive chronal/spatial distortion event happening very soon."

"And after that...?"

"I honestly don't know, Mr. Luthor. I've tried amplifying the power source to the membrane-bore, but I just can't get enough juice to get past that event."

"Then that will be our priority task for you, Mr. Hunter. With the help of the Society's finest minds, we should be able to crack that barrier in no time. L-Soft?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?"

"Provide Mr. Hunter with directions to the proving grounds in the sub-levels; I believe there is an available lab open for him. And get Doctors Quintum and Sivana into the loop as well. I want to make sure Mr. Hunter's progress goes along as smoothly and brilliantly as possible."

"It will be done, Mr. Luthor."

As the AI program guided Rip Hunter out of the office via a small anti-grav drone, Luthor sat back down in his chair and allowed himself to relax for a moment. The last piece of Project Wildfire was finally set in place. And once Despero was out of the way, all the machinery would start to move.

Meanwhile, deep within the LexCorp databanks, L-Soft discreetly removed a file it had received two weeks ago:

Rip Hunter's obituary.

 

[Snapper_Carr]

Amazo​

Alphonse Mazzo was in a foul mood. The attempted hit on his life, notwithstanding, he found his flight back to Chicago had been diverted to Gotham. A blizzard at O'Hare had made this diversion necessary.

He was less than pleased as he saw the Gotham skyline appear outside the window of the plane. He felt that Organized Crime in this city was in the hands of 'crazies.' You just can't count on these types when it comes to running a smooth operation, had always been his opinion.

'Buncha freaks in this town,' he thought, 'clowns...birds...scarecrows...and bats. Who needs em?'

He had debarked the plane and travelled by limo to the Gotham Marriott. He looked out upon Gotham and was unimpressed. 'At least we clean the streets and the trains run on time in Chicago,' he thought.

Weather patterns indicated he wouldn't be able to catch a flight into Chicago for another 24-36 hours. This pained him to no end. He had wanted to get back home and deal with the men behind this attempted hit ASAP.

'Joey D...you go first,' he thought, 'that phone call was an obvious set-up...had to make sure I was there. That's ok. You'll be getting a call of your own soon.'

He checked in to the hotel, had a fine dinner, and slept for the night. Alone, for a change. His wife would be proud.

That night was to be his last 'normal' one, as the following day his life would change forever.

He awoke the next morning and decided to make the best of his stay. There were some 'made' guys he could have lunch with and discuss Vegas business with; just so the trip wouldn't be a total loss.

On his way, Al found himself in a traffic jam just a few blocks from his destination. 'Some type of superhero donny-brook' the cabbie had said. No matter, Al would walk the rest of the way. And what a walk it would be...

Al walked a few blocks and found himself witness to an amazing spectacle...'heroes' were fighting some strange creature with three eyes. And he seemed to be knocking the crap out of them for a short time.

He caught a glimpse of the Flash.

He spotted Superman and Green Lantern above him.

Things got real crazy real fast.

Next thing Al knew, there was a car flying at him WAY too fast to dodge...or so he thought. As he panicked and began to dodge out of the way, he discovered the world around him shifted to slow motion. He had what seemed like all day to escape the flung car. Strange.

He slowed down after the car missed him. That was a mistake, as the car exploded on impact and sent shrapnel flying. He was struck by many pieces of metal...he was sure he was dead.

He wasn't. They struck him and bounced off.

'Well ain't that some sh**,' he thought.

​

 

[Batman]

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR FIVE.

For the first time, I see an emotion cross Devilman's face that I wouldn't recognize on my own. For a moment, his eyes twitch back to his computer console and the insecurity in his body language makes itself more than apparent. Cracking his cape, he advances from the shadows and steps onto the terminal, typing in a number of commands. All the while, I can do nothing but watch, caged within this Lovecraftian cavern like an animal. I know there's a way out of here, and it's begging to present itself... but he's kept it well hidden. Which only confirms my earlier suspicions.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR SIX.

What I saw on his face, under that cowl, was fear. He's actually beginning to become afraid of what he can't anticipate.

Odd. Even despite his justifications, he's showing the classic signs of the pathological train of thought. The criminal mind's tell tale. It's a general hypothesis first brought to my attention in Wales, under the study of my early criminology professors... a lesson that would set the path of my mission in stone. Fear, anxiety, doubt, and other traits are more commonly associated in those who hide a lingering guilt stemming from acts they would ordinarily condone as heinous or unjust. This is usually the case with the 'sane' ones, as it were, as opposed to men like Johnathan Crane or Harvey Dent. Their insanity cloaks any possible guilt.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR SEVEN.

But if Devilman is more pathological than psychotic, then something's seriously wrong. With his tendencies being those of a fascist, combined with my drive to rid Gotham of evil, there's no telling how much of a burden he's placed upon himself. It's an amazement that he's been able to drive Gotham into a tolitarian state for this long without suffering serious mental relapses. Some would call that a red flag, or consider it a call for help.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR EIGHT.

Given my circumstances, however... I call it an opening.

"Computer. Initiate Lockdown mode, and locate origin of breach."

Devilman studies the monitors as they spring to life, showing the point of view of several security cameras inside of an office building. An office building I instantly recognize. He's looking at the inside of Wayne Enterprises. Or, rather... whatever his Wayne Enterprises is.

"Freeze frame on camera two."

A red blur. It takes a moment, but I realize who the so-called 'intruder' is.

"The Speedster. Interesting,", Devilman muses. "While I am impressed with your friend's resolve, I have to wonder how he even knew to look in Wayne Tower in the first place. You wouldn't happen to know the answer to that, would you, Bruce?"

I actually wonder that myself. True, I knew The Flash was aware of my identity, but I never got the chance to question how he actually managed to stumble upon that information. All that I know is that he learned it the night of that fundraiser I threw for the Gotham Orphans Foundation, two years ago. As I recall, that was also the night the The Creeper murdered Carmine Falcone infront of Lex Luthor.

There's a reason I haven't thrown any parties since.

"While I'd love to tackle the challenge of killing him myself, I'd rather not risk it. But I'm not about to let him roam my company unattended,", He continues, a vicious smile on his lips with every word as he taps his cowl again. "Canary. Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear. I'm just about enroute to Gotham Square now."

"Then you're going to need to change course. I have a more immediate problem for you to handle."

I grit my teeth, thinking of my own mistake. Damn it. If I had kept my costume and equipment with me, I could have possibly jammed into The Flash's Keystone City PD communicator and warned him of an attack. He shouldn't have come for me. None of them should have.

"-and he's currently making his way to the top floor. He can't find us here, and I'm leaving it to you to make sure he doesn't. Don't fail me."

"I'll do what I can. Do you want him dead?"

"Beyond, my dear. Make it as messy as possible."

"You're the boss."

He shuts off the communicator and looks to me. "Predictable, really. Canary's never had much of willpower of her own."

I assume that's the stark difference between his world's and my world's. I can't imagine a Dinah Lance that would ever take an order from me. Then again, I can't imagine a version of me that would manipulate her like this in the first pla-

...

Wait. I have done that before.

PRIORTY ALERT. PRIORITY ALERT. BREACH IN SECTOR SIX.

By the time she arrived at the partially condemned Wayne Enterprises, the sirens were already blaring from every corner. Titanium shock absorbers lined the walls, and the floors were gated. But from inspecting the white hot metal of their bars, it was clear that they hadn't done much good to stop the would-be hero that was looking for his friend. She sneered, kicking open the already damaged blockade and stepping over to the other side, heading towards the elevator. Speedsters. What a waste of potential.

Sliding her access card through the authorization slot, she stepped inside, tossing away the jacket she had been wearing to conceal the costume underneath. It was bad enough she had to ride the cycle here. If Devilman actually trusted her, he would've lent her a car. Or a decent change of clothes.

Top floor, coming right up.

You're mine, hero.

 

[Mercy]

Laura Morgan slowly walked along the streets of Keystone City. She had tracked down a female Martian here a couple of weeks ago. She was heading towards a local Diner called: "A Fine Dine". Considering it was her job to track down metahumans, she used her tracking skills to also track down normal Martians living as humans. She has tracked down Mercy Mormon.
She's probably the toughest of the bunch. Why else the name Mercy?

Laura eventually got to the Diner. She pushed open the door. As she pushed it open a ringing sound echoed the busy Diner. Straight across Laura was a counter, a young blonde girl stood behind their, wearing a Grey top which hid underneath a black leather jacket and a pink scarf, she also had a name tag on, labeling:
"Mercy". She had her platinum blonde hair fixed back into a tight ponytail, her looks blow Laura away.
Such a pretty face on the outside. Such an ugly face on the inside.

Laura slowly walked up to the Martian. When she was a child, growing up in the future. The famous scientists knew the Martians were coming, so they injected every being on her planet with a telepathic blocker, making barriers in our heads to telepathic readings, telepathic control or telepathic forces.

"Good evening...um, Mercy. I would like to speak to your manager if possible?" Laura smiled, showing her "News Reporter Pass". Mercy shot a frightened look, she quickly cracked a fake smile and pushed open the "STAFF ONLY" door behind her. She called a name, it was muffled in the sound of the kitchen and the shouts of the chefs. Suddenly, a smart man in a pinstripe business suit, with a name tag saying: Mr Mormon, came scattering in. The man was lanky, he held spectacles in his hand. He had dropped them at the sight of Laura. Laura's jaw had fallen open.
"You know what I'm here for...then?" Laura hesitantly asked. The man gulped and nodded. A big grin smacked across his face. He quickly shook Laura's hand. Mercy stood in the midst of these two people, having a shocking look smacked across her face.
"I was wondering when you were going to deal with Mercy. She's all yours. Mercy darling, this is your cousin I've been telling you about for years. Now hurry on now, go. Mum will pick you up later" Mr Mormon explained. Mercy nodded with delight, she ran out of the Diner, waiting outside for Laura. Mercy snatched off her name tag and shoved it in her jacket pocket. She was clutching a cup of coffee from the Diner.

"How long since the adoption? Have you de-powered her?" Laura hissed.
"Six years. She's eighteen in human, 190 in Martian. I've eliminated her shimmer and phase skills, as well as her illusion casting." Mr Mormon hissed back. Red swirls flashed in the pupil of his eyes. He then ran back through the "STAFF ONLY" door and disappeared.

Laura walked out and linked arms with Mercy, she slapped a fake smile across her face.
"Come on Mercy. I've been itching to meet you! Did anyone ever tell you, your looks are to DIE for. Now come on. The cars down the road." Laura's eyes twinkled in the sun, she quickly blinked before Mercy noted flames flickering inside her eyes. Mercy grinned.
"Thanks Cousin--, Um what's your name again?"
"Well your dad's nickname for me is Sungirl. But I guess you can call me Laura Morgan."

​

 

[Snapper_Carr]

Ultimate Amazo​

Al went on along to his lunch after traffic began moving again and the super-donnybrook was over. He had questions about what had just happened to him, to be sure, but he wasn't the type to show his hand for no reason; so, he had kept his odd experience to himself during the course of lunch with Philip DeGrasso, boss of Gotham's waterfront.

After lunch, during which thay had discussed subjects ranging from stolen goods proceeds to FBI surveillance, Al decided to wak back to his hotel. He needed to clear his head. Had he really moved so fast, or had it just been adrenaline making it seem that way? Possibly. In the heat of the moment people are capable of extraordinary things...and Al had always been a little more 'extraordinary' than most; though he had always kept that to himself...why give away his edge, right?

But it was the bullets that bothered him. There was no simple means of explaining that away to himself. It had really happened. There were bullet holes in his suit. He told DeGrasso over lunch that he'd 'dodged some shrapnel.' A lie. But lying was nothing new. Al was Sicilian. Lying was just 'one of them things.' Part of the territory in the life he had chosen.

Lost in reverie, Al had almost missed the fact that he was being approached by two men in trenchcoats, hats pulled low. It was the prostitute hollering 'hey, you fellas want some company?,' that had alerted him to their presence. They were trying hard to look like feds.

They weren't.

Al looked around...church on his right, no good. No parked cars on the left, no good. Traffic moving quickly on the street, no good. No bodyguards...again, no good.

Al shifted his hand to his coat pocket. The 9mm was there. Exactly that much was going his way at the moment.

Well, it wasn't in his nature to just sit and wait for things to happen to him. Al was a man of action...and many talents. Some talents he had never suspected, as the case would prove to be.

'Alright you f**k's,' he thought, 'let's see what ya got!!'

And he did see at that point. As he drew his own weapon and looked hard at the approaching gunmen, he could actually see the weapons hidden on their persons.

Al drew his 9mm and took aim. The shots seemed to take forever to come out of the gun. Four shot...one in each man's gut and one in a knee on each. After seeing the bullets strike, time shifted to normal.

The men were falling, never having fully drawn their weapons. Al now had two hoods he could question, or so he thought...

As Al put his weapon back in his pocket, the screams and sounds of panic were already filling the street around him. Vehicles on the roadway screeching to a halt, the drivers all in a panic.

Even over the din of noise, Al could hear the two revolvers being cocked.

"FREEZE MAZZO!!" came the shout, "DROP YOUR WEAPON AND PUT YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD!!"

'Feds,' Al thought, 'figgers these guys would be tailing...NOW they show up...I'm screwed.'

Al did as the agents instructed. He removed his gun and dropped it on the ground, then he raised his hands in the air.

"Now turn around slowly,"said one of the agents.

Al complied. He felt a burning rage, and it was reflected in his stare.

Two red-hot beams shot from his eyes and cut the Federal Agents in half.

'What the...?' Al asked himself.

More panic, more screaming...so Al turned to run. It took him just over 5 seconds to reach Chicago from Gotham.

To be continued......

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Giganta and Cheetah relax on the private jet back to Metropolis.

Cheetah looks at Doris and asks, "Luthor you respect him?"

She nods ands says, "Yes he is a powerful man."

Cheetah says, "But he has no powers, he is only a man."

Doris repiles, "True however he is a man who knows how to make the most of the power that he has, and as you will learn better to be at the right hand of evil then in it's path."

Cheetah bows her head as if to acknowledge a point made.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

The Atom

Rhinanon Plamer pulls up in front of the Gotham Arms Apartment complex other members of the Crime Lab.

She says to another investigator, "I'll radio when I'm ready for you guys. I'll get some of the prelim photos done."

She is greeted by a Police Officer who looks visibly shaken.

Rhiannon asks, "What do you got Charlie? Besides an obvious case of you just saw the worst thing you ever saw in your life?"

Charlie replies, "Hey Dr. Palmer, Eddie is inside the hallway. Apartment#428 you better be ready it looks like a Rob Zombie movie gone wrong. The guy's name was Rip Hunter."

Rhiannon says, "Rip I knew him. He played with dad in the league for a few years. Had a good career ahead of him until he got one too many concussions and started spouting of end of the world secret plan junk."

She reaches the apartment and sees Eddie who also looks shaken. Rhiannon opens the door and stops for a moment.

Holy Mother of Mercy...they weren't kidding.

The blood and severed body parts make Rhiannon shake her head and take a deep breath.

I thought I had seen it all.

She radios in to have the rest of the Crime Lab unit and says, "Bring everything you got and a few barf bags."

The crime Lab team begins their work as Rhiannon begins taking pictures. She notices the black board has been erased.

No way of really telling what this was...but maybe the The Atom can tell.

Once they are done everyone begins to pack everything up.

Rhiannon meets with the team down in the lobby and says, "All-right Jackie you're running lead on this one. I knew the victim. I'll assist where I can but this one is too close for me. In fact I need a few days to get over this one."

She begins to weep a tear or two.

They all begin geting back in the truck and Rhiannon says, "I'll catch a cab home I just need to be alone for a while."

They all leave and once they are out of sight Rhiannon smirks.

And the Best Actress award goes to....I'll admit I wasn't too close to Rip but this was meant to send a message and I want to find out some more things. But I can't as Rhiannon Palmer.

Rhiannon then transforms into The Atom and heads of into the Apartment and begins looking around.

 

[Andy C.]

New Gotham's police force slowly closes in on me, some squads pinning me down with suppressing fire while others advance from cover to cover. I assume they're attempting to get within throwing distance for their grenades. I stay in one spot rather than fly away, to draw their fire, buy some time for my colleagues. Still, I had better make a move before much longer.

It's just me against an army. Fortunately, fighting an army is what I was trained to do.

From a nearby window, a sniper fires at the back of my head. Without hesitation, I spin with my Gauntlets up, deflecting the shot directly back to him. The energy pulse travels right up the barrel of the gun, destroying it.

I duck low, avoiding a stitching of plasma bolts from an advancing squad, and pick up a manhole cover. With one hand, I deflect more gunfire, and with the other, I hurl the manhole cover like a discus, catching two of them in the legs and sending them head-over-heels.

A third, however, lobs a gas grenade towards me. As it arcs through the air, the speed of Hermes kicks in, and time slows to a crawl. I get to the sidewalk with time to spare, and uproot a parking meter to use as a club. The grenade still coming at me, I am reminded for a moment of the American sport of 'base-ball.'

As time reverts back to its normal pace, I swat the gas-bomb away with the parking meter, sending it right into the middle of a second squad.

"Honestly," I call out, brandishing my new makeshift cudgel, "how much longer do you think you're going to hold out? Especially once I actually start fighting back."

The policemen halt their advance, look at each other quizzically, and then one of them breaks rank and runs. Another quickly follows. The floodgates now open, soon they all scatter. I smile, rather pleased with myself. Sometimes, the implication of force is far more effective than the application of it.

My victory is short-lived, however, as I hear the sound of helicopters approaching. They peer over the skyline, blinding floodlights all focused on me, all manner of devastating weaponry ready to fire.

I assume a ready stance on one of the wrecked police cars, and prepare my own weaponry.

I'm more than ready for them now.

 

[RamsesIII]

The crowd watched in horror as Hemingway fell. He hit the pavement with a big *SPLAT*, but, to everybody's surprise, (excluding Nobody, which makes a lot of sense, doesn't it?) paint simply splashed everywhere.

Mr. Nobody cracked a smirk. "Now then. Let's get to business... the brown note."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Charles Davis took a long, deep puff from his cigarette. He put it down and picked up a cup of coffee, feeling the burning, toxic taste of the coffee as it stained his teeth but brought him closer to his god by letting him go on yet another insomniac escapade. He put that down, too. He was reading Machiavelli's The Prince which is depressing, because he didn't wonder for even a moment if the whole thing was just a satire on fascism. Where are the satirists, the subtle intellectuals, to go, if not even Charlie can appreciate them? If nobody appreciates them, is it the satirists fault? Do the satirists matter? If a tree falls in a forest, but people figure it was just a stroke of thunder, does it matter?

These would be valid questions worth deeper contemplation if not for the fact that Mr. Nobody broke into the jazz club at that exact moment with his merry misfits.

"Musicians smash your instruments! Blind men take the stage!" His voice was dangerously careless.

The instruments the current band musicians were playing suddenly flew into the air and smashed on the roof, smashing into a rain of broken dreams. The Quiz always took things too literally.

One wide-eyed, horrified band member stuttered, "w... w... why?"

Mr. Nobody couldn't help but chuckle. "My dear boy... A purpose would ruin the whole bloody point of Dadaism now, wouldn't it?"

 

[Catman_prb]

The sleek black lamborghini parked with a screeching halt outside the apartment building of the late Rip Hunter. The Question slid out, taking a silenced pistol from his jacket.

"Sure that I've missed something," he muttered to his partner "wait here,"

He sped up the stairs and paused when he came to the police tape over the apartment door. He smirked under his mask, then ripped it apart and walked inside. He immediately took in the tell-tale signs of a forensic investigation. The body was gone, taken for examination, but the blood was still all over the walls and the newspaper clippings all missing or burnt. He stood up straight, the pistol still in his hand and took another look around the apartment.

"I know you're here," he spoke loudly into the room.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

The sleek black lamborghini parked with a screeching halt outside the apartment building of the late Rip Hunter. The Question slid out, taking a silenced pistol from his jacket.

"Sure that I've missed something," he muttered to his partner "wait here,"

He sped up the stairs and paused when he came to the police tape over the apartment door. He smirked under his mask, then ripped it apart and walked inside. He immediately took in the tell-tale signs of a forensic investigation. The body was gone, taken for examination, but the blood was still all over the walls and the newspaper clippings all missing or burnt. He stood up straight, the pistol still in his hand and took another look around the apartment.

"I know you're here," he spoke loudly into the room.

The Atom hides under a burnt newspaper clipping.

Woah! That guy has no face...or wait it's a mask...still though it's freaky. I can tell from this size that is not the gun the killed Hunter and if he was a threat he would attack first not announce himself.

The Atom comes out from the newspaper clipping and hovers in-front of The Question.

She says, "You know you're not supposed to be in here."

The Question shows no reaction.

She says, "Wow tough crowd. My name is The Atom I knew Hunter. Not well but I knew him. He used to play for the Gotham Knights. Used to be a great reciever until he took one hit upside the head too many. Concusions forced him out of the league. After his last hit he became really strange talking constantly about the end of the world and secret societies. His wife left him and took their 3 kids. He just kind of fell off the grid."

The Atom looks around and says, "All that being said this killing was done with such violence and destruction it was meant to send a message. Hunter was onto something. I liked him...he deserves justice. I want to find his killer and take 'em down."

 

[Mercy]

ungirl

Laura slowly sat down. She observed Mercy's graceful movements.
Too bad i'm going to have to kill her

"Mercy. We've been at my house for about an hour now. It's time I show you my favourite place in the world. But it's quite hot" Laura took Mercy's hands and stared deeply into her eyes.
"You know what I am don't you" Mercy bit her lip. She hadn't suspected Laura of being a rival alien race.
"Look. It doesn't matter if you're an alien or not. To me you're an angel. Now please Mercy. Take me to El Azizia in Libya, where I do wish to spend my time there" Laura explained in a soothing tone. Mercy didn't hesitate. Suddenly, Laura's vision swirled. All she could see was a distant blue light.

"You're not use to it, are you Aunt Laura?" Mercy spun around, looking around her. Laura growled.

"Don't. Call. Me. That" Laura grabbed Mercy's neck and pulled Mercy towards her. Mercy gagged. Laura chuckled. Flames flickered around Laura's body. Soon Laura had become Sungirl. She was dressed in the traditional female outfit of her planet. The two of them stood in the un-populated desert, they we're surely alone.
"Wh-Wh-Who are you? WHAT are you?" Mercy chocked.
"My eyes hold the answer, dear Mercy" Sungirl grinned. Mercy glared into Sungirl's eyes. Her pupils had taken up the whole eye. Just darkness. Suddenly the emblem of her home planet (which also lay on the flag) flashed in her eyes.

Sungirl released Mercy. Mercy gasped. She knew Sungirl was looking for revenge. Mercy tried to get into Sungirl's thoughts but it just bounced off.
"Your father, he was the son of our planet's best scientist who was sent off to earth for testing years ago. Now, with all the explaining behind. Let's just get down to the killing now, shall we?"
"Mercy is my name and Mercy by soul" Mercy shifted into a female martian. She jumped up and kicked Sungirl in the face. Sungirl swiftly flung back, slamming to the sand below.
"Hello Lorah. My sister has been looking for you for years, but I guess you got to me first. So now i'll just wipe out you, then my "dad" and all your race will die. Once I expose you to the humans first, of course."

Mercy had teleported Sungirl back to Manhattan, the two of them stood in an abounded warehouse. Sungirl jolted up, she curled her fingers into her palms, making a fist. Huge flames popped out each fist. She punched Mercy twice with the fire punch, then shot plasma fire bolts at Mercy. Mercy screamed and hurled back into the wall. There was a loud thud and the wall collapsed onto Mercy.

OUTSIDE
"Holy crap!" It's 9/11 again!" "Someone call the police!" "Quick, James put the camera on!" "Call Fox News!"
​