Last Daughter of Krypton: Legion IC

[ChasNicollette]

M'onel, Kid Quantum, Lightning Lass, Shadow Lass, Ceriel. The Lobby.

In silence Allana prayed for peace. In silence she prayed that this meeting would not go badly. That she would be guided by Truth, Honour, and Justice.

But as she spoke her words became more and more audible. A whisper at the edge of consciousness. A sigh. A softly spoken word. Slowly creeping forward into the audible human range.

M'onel heard every word.

The ladies behind him caught up shortly thereafter.

The words were unfamiliar. But they had a reverence to them. M'onel frowned.

Was this some sort of formal greeting?

“…Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff--they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

“For Truth, Honour, and Justice.”

“Amen.”

M'onel paused. And glanced over his shoulder at Ayla.

"Formal greeting?" he murmured, quiet as he could. "Is there a formal ritualistic response?"

Ayla blinked at him, murmured back: "To The 23rd Psalm? Don't look at me, I always prefered the agrarian pagan stuff back home, seemed freer, but I honored the Bible stuff to honor my parents. I, um. I suppose you could fire back with Psalm 119? But that could take all day."

"Don't you hate it when you don't speak the language?" Tasmia smirked, though she restlessly rubbed the back of her neck, it was prickling so...

Kneeling in place...

M'onel stiffened when he saw her kneel, this was like all his worst fears brought to life, his handsome face tied itself into knots. "You don't. Please-- that's really not... necessary..."

Had she. Recognised him. Somehow?

...her armour shimmered across the spectrum of metals. Gold. Silver. Platinum. Brighter and brighter. Until at last it was nearly a pure incandescent light. A light that was slowly obscured by a darkness that creeped in along the edges. Black armour adored with a single white star between her breasts.

"Photoreactive," Kid Quantum mused. "And I'm detecting serious gravitational manipulation, can feel the ping of onboard scanners, this Pandora's got herself a serious toybox."

But M'onel wasn't listening, especially. All he could see was that star, white on black. Like the starfields of his own uniform. Was this further mimicry? He wanted to panic. Best-kept secret of a thousand years.

All he wanted was peace. It was all he'd ever wanted.

Reaching up she knelt as if she held a shield. And with a soft snap of energy a shield was on her armour. A shield adored like her armour. A field of blackest night with a single white light in the center of all things.

His eyes slammed shut. Don't call me Valor don't call me Valor don't call me Valor...

From with her helm she spoke to the man. “I am Celestial Knight Allana Lang of the House of Kent of the Kingdom of the Isles Principality Callsign: Magdalena. By the will of the Holy See, I am assigned to assist you in any and all matters that I am able.”

One eye snapped open. Then both. Again, he glanced at Ayla, his voice a breath of a whisper. "'Holy See.'"

"That one I know," Ayla nodded easily, whispering back. "That's The Pope, and all that that implies."

"Ah," he nodded easily, relieved, tried not to sound relieved, whispered. "The one that doesn't like Valor worship."

Kid Quantum arched an eyebrow, joined in the whispering. "That's the guy."

“How may I serve?”

M'onel strode forward, and offered the kneeling armoured woman his hand up.

"For one thing," he smiled softly, "you can rise. All sentients are created equal, right?"

Tasmia tried not to scoff at this, and failed, and rolled her eyes. Ayla shot Tasmia a look, and Tasmia could only shrug.

I doubt they consider my species as equal.

Instead, she attempted to turn the noise into conversation, to pass off the scoff as the sound of a clearing throat. "Forgive my lack of perception, 'Magdelena.' I couldn't help but notice, you have a callsign, a codename. I, in turn, am called Shadow Lass. The lovely ladies beside me are Kid Quantum and Lightning Lass. And 'Captain Beefcake' here is called M'onel. Am I to... understand... that you intend to join The Legion as representative of the sovereign entity of the episcopal jurisdiction of The Catholic Church? Or are you here to represent the, ah, Kingdom of The Isles Principality? I only ask because we already have a 'chaplain,' and because we're not especially looking to become The Legion of Super-Proselytisers."

Standing behind Allana, Ceriel murmured softly. "You've made a good start. Don't let her goad you. You're doing fine. Don't let her ply you with her unseemly lines."

M'onel blinked. 'Captain Beefcake?'

 

[ChasNicollette]

Brainiac Five. The Lab.

"Well geez Brainy, when you put it like that... So not even one little snog? Just a bit? Damn. Just my luck. I finally get my form back and I can't touch anything... Or anyone." Wildfire frowns and rolls his eyes as he looks at Brainy. "Fine look, we do this your way for now. But we keep working on it alright? I guy has needs ya know. Even if that guy is a sentient mass of sentient anti-energy."

Brainiac was tempted, for a moment, to actually grin, to actually take delight in the fellow's misfortune, the shoe was on the other foot, all his taunting...

...but then he trailed off.

He knew what it was like to be. Isolated.

Cut off. Ostracised.

He quieted. He lowered his head, examined a console, toyed with switches.

"I have a Twelfth-Level Intellect. It is my solemn duty to this Universe and everything in it to better it with my brainpower. Be this by cracking open theorems and conundrums that have confounded thinkers since time immemorial, or by besting villains whose sole aim is to twist the worlds' resources to their own ends and thus depriving those who would use them better."

He paused. Remembered what it had been like.

He knew what longing felt like.

"While I think there are. Far better. Uses of my time than 'getting you laid?'"

He took a deep breath. And he nodded.

And he looked Wildfire in the eye. "I'll do my best. You have my word."

 

[AmenRa]

Change of Trajectory

"Nevermind," Brande said. He seemed to be listening to something only he could hear. "Wraith can wait. After all, he's waited a thousand years, another few minutes won't matter."

Brande started for the door. "We have a visitor."

He made it to where the others had gathered around the just-arrived Magdalena. He had missed the formal introduction.

Brande stopped and raised an eyebrow in his best Spock impression.

"Fascinating," he remarked as he looked at the Celestial Knight kneeling on the floor. "I wasn't sure these creatures even existed anymore. There was this one time," Brande started to delve into a story, but then, the Martian Vision kicked in, and he looked behind her and saw something else.

"Now that is certainly something you don't see everyday."

Brande bowed in a gesture of respect and greeting.

He spoke to both of them, the visible and the invisible.

"It is our honor," he said. And then, he voiced other thoughts. "Your arrival heralds some happening. You would not have come unless trouble brewed. Tell me what omen does your manifestation on this realm entail?"

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang

M'onel strode forward, and offered the kneeling armoured woman his hand up.

"For one thing," he smiled softly, "you can rise. All sentients are created equal, right?"

Tasmia tried not to scoff at this, and failed, and rolled her eyes. Ayla shot Tasmia a look, and Tasmia could only shrug.

I doubt they consider my species as equal.

Instead, she attempted to turn the noise into conversation, to pass off the scoff as the sound of a clearing throat. "Forgive my lack of perception, 'Magdelena.' I couldn't help but notice, you have a callsign, a codename. I, in turn, am called Shadow Lass. The lovely ladies beside me are Kid Quantum and Lightning Lass. And 'Captain Beefcake' here is called M'onel. Am I to... understand... that you intend to join The Legion as representative of the sovereign entity of the episcopal jurisdiction of The Catholic Church? Or are you here to represent the, ah, Kingdom of The Isles Principality? I only ask because we already have a 'chaplain,' and because we're not especially looking to become The Legion of Super-Proselytisers."

“I apologize for the misunderstanding in my words. Interlac is not my speech. I am not a Iterator. A Chaplain. I am a warrior. A Knight. I have been assigned by the Holy See to assist you. The Kingdom of Isles is not involved in this, diplomatic situation. I was not informed as to whether or not a mor, formal, representation would take place.”

Standing behind Allana, Ceriel murmured softly. "You've made a good start. Don't let her goad you. You're doing fine. Don't let her ply you with her unseemly lines."

M'onel blinked. 'Captain Beefcake?'

He made it to where the others had gathered around the just-arrived Magdalena. He had missed the formal introduction.

Brande stopped and raised an eyebrow in his best Spock impression.

"Fascinating," he remarked as he looked at the Celestial Knight kneeling on the floor. "I wasn't sure these creatures even existed anymore. There was this one time," Brande started to delve into a story, but then, the Martian Vision kicked in, and he looked behind her and saw something else.

"Now that is certainly something you don't see everyday."

Brande bowed in a gesture of respect and greeting.

He spoke to both of them, the visible and the invisible.

"It is our honor," he said. And then, he voiced other thoughts. "Your arrival heralds some happening. You would not have come unless trouble brewed. Tell me what omen does your manifestation on this realm entail?"

Looking up at the new arrival Allana finally stood, the shield on her arm vanishing in a whisper of extinguished power, her armoured gauntlet taking the leaders hand.

Heraldry faded back into the skin of the armour. The chromium shimmer returning. Accenting blue runes inscribed across it’s surface.

Holding out her hand palm up she thought. Hololithic imaging rippling in her palm. Projected by micro emitters in her fingertips, she played back the phrase she believed most pertinent.

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task.”

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task.”

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow…….”

Playing it through on a loop several times she watched their responses.

Waiting.

Did they know whom the Child of Shadow was? Had they discovered whom it was?

 

[ChasNicollette]

"Nevermind," Brande said. He seemed to be listening to something only he could hear. "Wraith can wait. After all, he's waited a thousand years, another few minutes won't matter."

Liz' eyebrows climbed her forehead. "Technically, it was ten thousand, Time being relative to the observer. But your point still stands."

Brande started for the door. "We have a visitor."

Liz made to follow Brande and Rond made to follow her, but she stopped him, she stopped him with a gesture. "Flight Ring."

She glanced at Lightning Lad. "Help him."

Garth saluted. "You got it, lady."

And she hurried after Brande.

He made it to where the others had gathered around the just-arrived Magdalena. He had missed the formal introduction.

Liz skidded to a halt just behind R.J.

Brande stopped and raised an eyebrow in his best Spock impression.

Ceriel took a step back. She wasn't looking at R.J. Brande.

She was looking at the woman behind him.

"Great God," she breathed. "Claire?"

"Fascinating," he remarked as he looked at the Celestial Knight kneeling on the floor.

"Impossible," she shook her head as she looked at the Emerald Knight standing at the ready.

"I wasn't sure these creatures even existed anymore. There was this one time," Brande started to delve into a story, but then, the Martian Vision kicked in, and he looked behind her and saw something else.

No, no, she reminded herself. Not Claire. Her spitting image. Her doppelganger. But I was there when my sister passed, ravaged by the failures of experimental Lazarus treatments.

I was there, watching, tearful, as my husband in life held her liver-spotted hand and wept at her deathbed as he'd wept at mine.

I was told one of my grand-daughters looked like my sister. But how could she...?

She turned her head Heavenward. You really do like to play things close to the vest, don't You?

But then she felt. She felt...

She felt eyes on her. Looking at her rather than through her, impossible visual acuity combined with a multispectral telepathic awareness that managed to touch on the fringes of her angelic overmind.

How could this be possible? As far as she knew, The Presence had not gifted R.J. Brande with any kind of prophetic foreknowledge, had not gifted him a spirit of discernment...

And yet. There he was. Looking right at her.

"Now that is certainly something you don't see everyday."

Brande bowed in a gesture of respect and greeting.

She tilted her head to the side, bewildered. And then she nodded to him.

This perfectly normal wise old man who was more than he seemed.

This Fourth Wise Man. Not gold, not frankincense, not myrrh, but open eyes and an open mind.

He spoke to both of them, the visible and the invisible.

"It is our honor," he said. And then, he voiced other thoughts. "Your arrival heralds some happening. You would not have come unless trouble brewed. Tell me what omen does your manifestation on this realm entail?"

"Make no mistake, seer," Ceriel murmured gently. "All will be revealed in the fullness of time. But I am not the herald here."

Looking up at the new arrival Allana finally stood, the shield on her arm vanishing in a whisper of extinguished power, her armoured gauntlet taking the leaders hand.

Heraldry faded back into the skin of the armour. The chromium shimmer returning. Accenting blue runes inscribed across it’s surface.

Holding out her hand palm up she thought. Hololithic imaging rippling in her palm. Projected by micro emitters in her fingertips, she played back the phrase she believed most pertinent.

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task.”

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task.”

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow…….”

Playing it through on a loop several times she watched their responses.

Waiting.

Liz gazed at the hololith. "'Spoilers.'"

M'onel narrowed his eyes. "Here we go again."

"Light, Shadow, and Darkness," Kid Quantum murmured. "Shades of Grey."

"'Child of Shadow,'" Ayla glanced at Tasmia. "That's not you."

"No," Tasmia purred, her lip curled deliciously. "But he does tend to mumble in his sleep. (And also to forget to velk his fly when he gets dressed in a hurry.)"

Liz' eyes widened. Considerably. Wait, what?

 

[AmenRa]

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task.”

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow. I know it's not talking about me, I have a different task.”

“The texts were very clear, the Child of Shadow will face the Child of Darkness, and all will be lost unless the Light joins with Shadow…….”

Playing it through on a loop several times she watched their responses.

Waiting.[/I]

Liz gazed at the hololith. "'Spoilers.'"

M'onel narrowed his eyes. "Here we go again."

"Light, Shadow, and Darkness," Kid Quantum murmured. "Shades of Grey."

"'Child of Shadow,'" Ayla glanced at Tasmia. "That's not you."

"No," Tasmia purred, her lip curled deliciously. "But he does tend to mumble in his sleep. (And also to forget to velk his fly when he gets dressed in a hurry.)"

Liz' eyes widened. Considerably. Wait, what?

Shadow and Darkness.

J'onn J'onzz didn't like the notion. The Child of Shadow, as clearly pointed out, was Wraith.

But who was this Child of Darkness?

Coming from the Knight it meant one of pure evil. Obviously someone they had not yet met. But, just as obvious, someone they would soon be seeing.

Brande cast a glance at Tasmia. New faces were popping up with regularity around here. He ignored her remark about Wraith's dressing habits, and turned instead to Liz.

"Perhaps the Book of Oa, even what remains, may shed some light upon this darkness?"

He then turned to the Knight, but again looked past her, focusing on the angelic presence. He was deep in thought, contemplating the message and its meaning.

He turned to M'onel and Liz. "If we had access to the Fortress of Solitude's database, perhaps it might cross-reference these meanings? I know, once, it held certain passages and entries from shared information given by the Guardians of the Universe via the Green Lantern Hal Jordan. Seems he and Supergirl had sort of a thing going....."

Did Brande just share too much information? He was sure to be questioned about how he came to know seemingly so much about so many things. Oh well, he didn't have to answer if he didn't want to.

Manhunter's prerogative.

 

[Wyldfire]

Jan placed his hand gently on Dawnstar's forehead. "I said that you would not fly alone. And I meant it. Whether you flew down the vector that led you to vengeance, or the vector that led you to justice. We would be with you. We would be at your side. You would not have been alone. Nor will you be."

Jan was annoying. Not in that he and Dawnstar had so many opposing views, that she could deal with. It was that he sounded like the shaman back home. It was soothing in it's own special way.

"I find the terrestrial concept of 'an eye for an eye' to be, shall we say, short-sighted."

"But to abandon you in the hour of your greatest need, your hour of greatest direst darkest ire?"

"That would be a sin indeed."

"Regain your strength. The skies are waiting."

Yes, they will wait. But when the time comes it will be a time for war. Hopefully Digby would allow her to stay concious long enough to send a message home requesting her war ensemble. The Havenite drifted off with that as her last thought.

It was a thought heard by Dawnstar's first guide. As the Shaman Morninghawk dreamed he was visited by Falcon. The totem spirit of the family, the spirit that had selected him to be shaman and his cousin, the mutant Dawnstar the Champion, the War falcon.

The spirit perched in a tree over his head and said "She needs her ensemble shaman. Burn the sage and make the prayers, the war falcon flies soon to her duty and destiny."

Morninghawk nodded, fear tightening his chest. When the selections had been made he had thought he would be the warrior to her shaman. But the spirit had made the wisest of choices. "It shall be done oh spirit of the sky."

"Then wake and get busy child. The time has arrisen and you are napping! Wake! The council will be awaiting you. The transport will open for you."

As the shaman snapped awake and immediately set to the task the spirit settled back into it's slow ponderous thought process. Starhaven dozed.

"Did anyone else find that act of femchismo as annoying as I did?

"Little bit," Caroline smiled sadly, grimly. "I mean, how's she going to win against the bad guys if she kills herself for them?"

She paused, though. And glanced down at the symbol on her chest.

"Then again. Can't say as I might not have done the same thing, if I'd been in her 'buckskins.'"

"She's stubborn and willful. Needs a big time time out." Salu walked over and took a good look at Caroline. "You're nice and rosy PG. You're cleared to get out of here whenever you want to. Same with you Ranzz." Vi said as she turned away from the living in Medbay.

"'Broken wings heal in time,'" Garth grumbled, rubbing his forehead. "Grife, what is that from?"
"Probably your over excited imagination Garth. Let the beastess sleep it off. Go let Imra oh and ah over your manly nose. I have to get the Wanderers and Lallorians ready to be sent to thier homes. I hate having to do autopsies in multiple languages. Wish Gym'll would get back from vacation."

With that Shrinking Violet looked to the casualties of the Five. "Let Cos know I want in on this one. I want in badly."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Lightning Lad, Powergirl, Teen Lantern, and Element Lad. Medbay and vicinity.

"She's stubborn and willful. Needs a big time time out." Salu walked over and took a good look at Caroline. "You're nice and rosy PG. You're cleared to get out of here whenever you want to. Same with you Ranzz." Vi said as she turned away from the living in Medbay.

"'Broken wings heal in time,'" Garth grumbled, rubbing his forehead. "Grife, what is that from?"

Caroline slugged Garth in the shoulder, shaking her head exasperatedly. "You should be saying 'thank you.'"

"Oh, uh," Garth blinked. "Thanks, Vi. I totally take back all those ridiculous 'Micro-Maid' jokes I cracked when I thought you weren't in the room and you were actually really small and hiding behind a dust mite or something. Also, in more recent news, the 'den-mother' thing. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Probably your over excited imagination Garth. Let the beastess sleep it off. Go let Imra oh and ah over your manly nose. I have to get the Wanderers and Lallorians ready to be sent to thier homes. I hate having to do autopsies in multiple languages. Wish Gym'll would get back from vacation."

Garth rubbed his nose. 'Manly,' eh? Well, alllllright.

"I'm sure the doc'll come sprinting back," Powergirl reassured Salu. "Soon as he finds out what happened."

Rond went to put his hands in his pockets, and realised that his uniform as it was didn't have pockets. Awkwardly, he crossed his arms over his chest. "Never a Doctor around when you need one, I guess. Some things never change."

"In his continued absence, however," Jan offered, "I might be of continued use to you. If for nothing else than synthesising the ingredients required in ritual embalment."

With that Shrinking Violet looked to the casualties of the Five. "Let Cos know I want in on this one. I want in badly."

"Trust me," Caroline smirked grimly. "This'll be like a grade school playground, Vi."

She turned to the door, her cape fluttering against her back. "Everyone gets a turn to take a swing."

The door opened and shut, and Lightning Lad, Powergirl, and "Teen Lantern" stood in the hallway.

"Listen to you," Garth smirked, hands on his hips. "Soundin' all badnass. Did you just switch breakfast cereals?"

Caroline smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm finally getting in touch with my super-ego."

Garth grinned. "Oh, I see what you did there."

Rond stared at both of them. "Um. Not to rush you. But I think I might be racing the clock."

"Right, best place to get you a Ring," Garth noted, leading the way, "is Brainy's lab. He always has spares kicking around, and he's the only one they trust to encode 'em right, anyway."

Caroline's eyes went half-lidded as she and Rond followed. Oh, please let this not be awkward.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Brande cast a glance at Tasmia. New faces were popping up with regularity around here. He ignored her remark about Wraith's dressing habits, and turned instead to Liz.

"Perhaps the Book of Oa, even what remains, may shed some light upon this darkness?"

"The Guardians have described what is coming," Liz explained, "as 'The Darkest of Days.' But they have been less than... comprehensive as to what that means. They might be miffed with me at the moment. But I'll see what I can do to convince them."

He then turned to the Knight, but again looked past her, focusing on the angelic presence. He was deep in thought, contemplating the message and its meaning.

Ceriel met his gaze. And wondered what thoughts he was deep in.

Still waters, she reminded herself.

He turned to M'onel and Liz. "If we had access to the Fortress of Solitude's database, perhaps it might cross-reference these meanings? I know, once, it held certain passages and entries from shared information given by the Guardians of the Universe via the Green Lantern Hal Jordan. Seems he and Supergirl had sort of a thing going....."

Ceriel frowned at this. This had transpired after her time as mortal, this "thing going." But still. He knew so much.

And yet he was hiding.

I wonder.

"A... a friend of mine," Lar pondered, "while we were whiling away the hours, used to talk about a thing called The Fortress of Knowledge, planted like a seed, and that that would be reborn under the care of The Daughter of El. This is the same thing? This is a Kryptonian thing?"

"This is not a place to be trespassed lightly," Liz cautioned. "To some modes of thinking, this would be a place as sacred, as sacrosanct, as Solomon's Temple."

Ceriel arched an eyebrow. But made no further comment.

"He's right, though," Liz nodded slowly. "In my day, there were three great repositories of knowledge. The beautiful mind of The Watchtower itself on its solemn arc through the skies. The number-crunching Crays of The Batcave. And there was The Fortress, blessed with the knowledge of 28 Known Galaxies and 3,600 Sectors of The Universe. All of these three have fallen silent.

"The Fortress is still there. Ticking over. Waiting. Though it would be the height of arrogance, some might even say blasphemy, to think it might be waiting for us."

As the three ancient minds discussed this, the three angels moved forward to meet The Celestial Knight called Magdalena.

"Don't let her get to you," Ayla attempted, smiling. "So you're a holy knight, huh? Kind of threw me for a loop, at first. But I guess that, um, liasing with religious institutions isn't totally unheard-of. I mean, Durla's kind of a theocracy, and Chameleon's a Durlan."

"Also," Kid Quantum smirked, without missing a beat, "there's the matter of certain Shadow Champions. If they're not faith-based warriors, I don't know what are."

Tasmia grunted disgruntledly. "Point, Jazmin. But while we're on the subject of good points, one might also mention that those with powers solely tech-derived are disallowed in the ranks of The Legion. Wouldn't want your brilliant and beautiful armour to fail, say, unexpectedly, in the middle of combat, perhaps while battling some extraterrestrial arachnid. Unlikely, unlikely, I'm sure. But stranger things have happened."

Jazmin flushed darkly. "Such a bitch, Tas."

"Just learning from history, Jaz," Tasmia waggled her eyebrows tauntingly.

Ayla scowled at them. "Embarrassing in front of the new girl, much?"

The other two fell quiet, but they continued glowering at each other.

She swiveled to face Allana again. "Sorry. Sorry. I mean, yeah, we have a rule about the tech thing. But I'm sure your bosses know that, and I'm sure that you have a cool knack or something, right? I mean, anyone can wear armour, but The Powers That Be wouldn't let you wear armour that good unless you were someone really special."

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang

Silently she stood. Watching. Watching what was said in her presence, and what was not. And where eyes were looking. Even when they were looking at things that shouldn’t be seen.

“First and foremost I am a trained warrior. Blade and shield are my weapons. The techpriests have merely ensured that I have the capability to ensure the survival of the individuals under my command.”

“With blade and hand I brought Exterminatus to a coven of Followers of the Black Chalice. No armour or shield protected me then. If the armour fails in battle. I will not step back and hide like a peasant or a frilly lady-in-waiting. I will shed the armour and renew the fight.”

“You will have to trust me. Just as I have to trust you. And yes, His Eminence knows about your tech regulation.”

 

[AmenRa]

The name's Jones. John Jones.

Recognition from a lifetime of memories sometimes takes a while. Especially when that lifetime has had a span of many, many lifetimes.

It wasn't so much facial recognition as it was a recognition of feelings. The cognitive sensory kind, the way a person thinks, or more specifically, the way a person feels to a telepath.

Brande let the smallest of smiles escape as he looked up from his deep contemplation. Only Ceriel would be able to see it. He focused a singular thought-in-sentence to her.

My name is Jones. And I do speak Welch.

"The Fortress is still there. Ticking over. Waiting. Though it would be the height of arrogance, some might even say blasphemy, to think it might be waiting for us."

"Indeed," Brande said, turning once more to Liz. "However, as it is off-limits to some, to others it is a sanctuary. I am sure it would welcome a face familiar to the House of El. Someone who is known to Krypton, someone whom Zor-El, and Kara, trusted.

Brande winked. "Know where anyone fitting that description might be found?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Between.​

He wore black.

(Not the tux, he was still pretty much convinced that thing was bad luck.)

He wore a black suit. Black suit, black tie, black shirt.

Green shoes.

This was the suit he'd worn when he'd taken River Song to The Singing Towers of Dorillian. Long time ago, now.

He'd worn it new then, and he hadn't worn it since.

But the place he was going now, he figured it was appropriate.

He stood in a great round room, a dome reaching up high over his head. In the center of a room stood a circular console, heavy-laden with switches and dials and levers and all sorts, looking almost like it had been cobbled together with repairs performed in junkyards. Which it had.

The walls and the structures that reached up to support those walls resembled coral, techno-organic coral. It looked like it had grown there, like it was living and alive. Which it was.

By the pale-white inside doors stood an antique wooden coat hanging rack.

But his coat was, instead, draped over one of those coral outcroppings. As ever. As always.

The console thrummed with a pale green glow, as did the great column that reached up from the central console and up to the centre of the ceiling. Somewhere inside that central column moved a rising falling plunger, craning up and sinking down in time with that eerie groaning wooshing sound.

This was The TARDIS. The Clever Blue Box.

It was in flight.

And he was on his way.

His lip curled and his brow furrowed in concentration as he toyed with switches and watched the monitor.

"Right, then," he murmured. "Interplanar travel, always a bit of navigational silliness involved. Tapping into anomalous chronal residue packets to maintain power-levels across the transdimensional barrier."

He flicked a row of switches, whk whk whk whk.

"Little bit of a chronometric discrepancy here," he shook his head. "Unlike that murky little subdimensional Phantom Zone, time still passes, just the arrow flies a little faster--"

He stopped. He looked around himself.

He was alone.

He was talking to himself.

"Yes," he nodded quietly, his face remaining stoic. "Right."

Stopping at a keyboard, he shook his head, and pattered five fingers upon those keys. "Can't have us talking to ourselves, can we, 'Gollum?' Let's have a little travelling music, shall we?"

He takked a key, and from some source high up in the dome, Paula Cole's "Saturn Girl" started playing.

He winced. "Oh, ooh, that's a little on the nose."

He takked another key. "Chameleon Boy" by Blue October.

"Strewth," he blew air through his teeth, "what I wouldn't give for a little bit of The Blockheads."

Another key. "Apparition" by No Use For a Name. "Blimey."

Tak. "Don't Die a Martyr for Me" by Dawnstar. "Not really what I had in mind."

Tak. "Wildfire" by America. "Gordon--"

Tak. "American Dreamgirl" by Joydrop. "--Bennett."

He lifted his finger to tak again, then hesitated. He shrugged and made a face of begrudging acquiescence. "Eh. Could be worse."

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he leaned against the nearest of the coral supports, tilting his head back to gaze at the top of the dome.

The plunger in the central column slowed to a stop.

The wooshing groaning sound faded to silence.

"Happy landings," he murmured, softly, to no-one.

He stepped forward to the console and clunked the parking brake into place.

He put his hands into his pockets, and walked quietly to the door, his trainers causing faint reverberations in the metal gratings that formed the floor.

The Doctor ran his tongue over his teeth. And draped his coat over his arm.

He swung the door open, and stepped out into Shadow.

The grass was soft beneath the soles of his shoes.

The sky was eternal twilight, and he glanced up at the great navy-purple expanse, unable to discern a familiar constellation.

Behind him stood a blue box just about taller than a man, bigger than a phone booth, and in this box was contained the room from which he'd just stepped and many rooms besides. He tugged the door shut behind him, felt the lock click into place. Only two things could reopen The TARDIS once its door had been locked, and he had them both.

He shrugged into his coat, adjusted the collar, and smiled a roguish, faint little smile up at the great towering castle before him.

"Not too shabby," he chuckled softly.

He held up a finger. "But! Far be it from me to disrespect the dress code."

Slipping his glasses and his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket, he pointed the screwdriver at the glasses and-- whistle whirr glow --the lenses turned to translucent lavender. He pocketed the screwdriver, and slipped the glasses onto his face.

He put his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers, and grinned a fiercely Puckish grin.

"Guess who's coming to dinner?" he wondered of no-one in particular, and began strolling towards the castle gate, hands in pockets, like he owned the place.

 

[ChasNicollette]

Steeple.
Now.​

Her hair was golden-white.

She had a star on her cheek. A birthmark.

She wore silver.

Her eyes flickered open.

Mist-blue eyes.

She sat in the Lotus position, and at first she did not move.

She was in a small chamber carved out of the living rock and lined with crystals. Very special crystals.

Beside her sat a young lad of Chinese extraction, he wore a Legion trainee uniform with an emerald dragon gleaming upon his chest and his side, calligraphic.

On the other side of her sat a young woman of feral form and function, feline aspects to her features and her thick brown hair. Tiger stripes zig-zagged down the front of her uniform.

"Wakey-wakey," she murmured.

The lad in green opened one eye. The gal adorned with stripes opened her mouth in a wide, gaping yawn, and streeeeetched...

"Is there a problem, M'Lady Nura?" Dragonmage wondered, opening his other eye and effortlessly craning to his feet, offering her a hand up.

Still stretching, practically elongating herself, Catspaw shook herself all over and licked her lips before frowning at both of her compatriots. "Was that it? Could stay under for way longer than that."

Nura slipped her hand into Dragonmage's, and rose to her feet, her silver cape billowing around her as she did so. "This was not a test of meditative fortitude. Yes, sensory deprivation is a valuable experience for all of us with heightened senses, be they conventional, precognitive, or mystical. But that was an added benefit of our time here, and not the primary objective."

Dragonmage stretched out his fingers towards the crystalline portcullis. Faint emerald lightning swirled around those fingertips, and the gate slid up, revealing the outside world.

Catspaw hissed, and recoiled. "RrrrrrrRrrh. Smell blood. And smoke."

Dragonmage blinked, and turned to look in horror at Nura. "What was the primary objective?"

Nura smiled faintly. "Keeping you alive. Had you been out there. In that. You both would have died."

"Bullspet," Catspaw snapped, and sprinted out on all fours.

Dragonmage shook his head, and followed. "You can't know we would have died. We could have helped-- we might not have died. You can't know that."

Nura stood for a moment, her arms at her side and her cape wrapped around her like a shield, like a shroud. She smiled a tiny little smile. "Yes. I can. I do. I have."

And she followed them out.

The crystal shell had protected her from the full impact of her visions, had trained her to see the intricate facets of even those prophetic dreams wreathed in mystery. And when the dreams were forceful and nightmarish and murderous enough, the crystals kept those dreams from killing her.

Killing her as they'd killed her entire planet.

Stepping out into the carnage wreaked in the passing of the escaped prisoners, Nura saw again a myriad of details she'd seen already in snippets of filtered dream. But two fewer corpses would litter this ground.

She regretted not being able to be by the master's side as he'd died, not being able to hold his hand. But she had said goodbye to him a month ago, and he had understood, and been at peace.

Nura watched as April and Xao Jin hurried to join their friends. April in particular gravitated to Danielle, and Xao Jin to Babbage, compatriots all.

But Nura already knew where Karate Kid was going to be. She'd seen him through her own eyes forty-eight hours before, and she went there now. She stood with him, as he stared at the spot from which Fate had vanished only moments previously.

She smiled thinly.

"I've had another dream, Val."

"A white feather on fire."

"It's starting. They're going to need us soon."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Kid Quantum, Lightning Lass, and Shadow Lass. The Lobby.

Silently she stood. Watching. Watching what was said in her presence, and what was not. And where eyes were looking. Even when they were looking at things that shouldn’t be seen.

“First and foremost I am a trained warrior. Blade and shield are my weapons. The techpriests have merely ensured that I have the capability to ensure the survival of the individuals under my command.”

"I don't know as you'll be commanding anyone here," Kid Quantum suggested carefully. "We elect our leaders, and the elected leaders appoint field leaders based on experience. Though I'm sure you'll get a fair shake in that regard, based on your tryout process."

“With blade and hand I brought Exterminatus to a coven of Followers of the Black Chalice. No armour or shield protected me then. If the armour fails in battle. I will not step back and hide like a peasant or a frilly lady-in-waiting. I will shed the armour and renew the fight.”

"'Exterminatus,'" Ayla mused. "'Black Chalice.' Well. I don't recognise your terminology. But I grok that oath of courage."

“You will have to trust me. Just as I have to trust you. And yes, His Eminence knows about your tech regulation.”

"Trust is not given," Tasmia scoffed. "It is earned. All the promises in all the worlds could all be for naught until we witness you in action with our own eyes."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceriel, GL 2261, M'onel. The Lobby.

Brande let the smallest of smiles escape as he looked up from his deep contemplation. Only Ceriel would be able to see it. He focused a singular thought-in-sentence to her.

My name is Jones. And I do speak Welsh.

The thought was almost visible to angelic senses. A burst of spectral spectra, synaesthetic as music and as golden light.

Those red red eyes went wide, and Ceriel took a step back. Her wings went taut, and her hand went to her heart.

"Oh. Oh great God."

Well. If it isn't my favourite Martian.

And she grinned. Oh, how she grinned.

Bendigedig.

Like a chessboard across forever, the pieces were falling into place...

"The Fortress is still there. Ticking over. Waiting. Though it would be the height of arrogance, some might even say blasphemy, to think it might be waiting for us."

"Indeed," Brande said, turning once more to Liz. "However, as it is off-limits to some, to others it is a sanctuary. I am sure it would welcome a face familiar to the House of El. Someone who is known to Krypton, someone whom Zor-El, and Kara, trusted.

Over her blacked-over eye, Liz' eyebrow arched, and she pursed her lips, tried to keep her poker-face firmly locked down. Is this it? Is this now? Are we showing our cards?

You play a dangerous game; flirting with disaster. But if anyone can smile in the face of disaster, it's you.

Manhunter without Fear.

Brande winked. "Know where anyone fitting that description might be found?"

For the most of this, M'onel had been keeping his own counsel.

But he was no fool.

He had known Kara Zor-El for a terribly brief moment in timelessness. But he had never known Zor-El himself, nor would Zor-El have programmed his technology to expect Daxamites. These allusions of Brande's obviously didn't apply to him.

And Zor-El had helped to develop the original BRAIN InterActive Construct.

But that didn't mean he would trust Brainiac Five.

And yet? Brande knew Martian, snippets of a forgotten tongue. And Brande knew aspects of Supergirl's life that had been lost to the ravages of long long history. Brande displayed, off the cuff, trivia regarding his long-lost friends from The Zone. Brande knew history and respected it but slowly slowly M'onel began to suspect that Brande had a secret identity of his own...

He crossed his arms over his chest, narrowed his eyes at the silver-haired captain of industry.

"Can I assume we're not poetically and politely talking about descendants of Krypton?" he suggested, not unreasonably. "Powergirl's Kryptonian enough, El enough. But you speak of someone as close to Kara or Zor-El himself, as close to them as breathing."

He stiffened.

Oh. Wait. You don't mean--

"I'm an idiot," he stated bluntly. "Var-Sen. And Raya. They both knew Kara Zor-El in her infancy before a later reunion in The Phantom Zone. And they both worked with her father."

He paused, and looked at his hands. He still wondered how Brande knew what he knew, this Knower of Things, this Decipherer of Secrets.

But the legendary Valor knew a thing or two himself.

"It seems that even Sanctuary can keep them safe no longer."

 

[ChasNicollette]

Rond stared at both of them. "Um. Not to rush you. But I think I might be racing the clock."

"Right, best place to get you a Ring," Garth noted, leading the way, "is Brainy's lab. He always has spares kicking around, and he's the only one they trust to encode 'em right, anyway."

Caroline's eyes went half-lidded as she and Rond followed. Oh, please let this not be awkward.

*********​

He paused. Remembered what it had been like.

He knew what longing felt like.

"While I think there are. Far better. Uses of my time than 'getting you laid?'"

He took a deep breath. And he nodded.

And he looked Wildfire in the eye. "I'll do my best. You have my word."

The door to the lab wsssshed open and Garth strolled in. "And here we are, tenth floor, bubbling beakers, sizzling electrodes, floaty valorium bricks--"

He paused as Rond and Caroline strolled up behind him. "--uh. Random naked glowy guys."

Tilting his head, he let out a low whistle. "Which, by the way, woah, dude. It's a good thing that thing's not concealed, or you'd need a licence for it."

Rond winced and clapped his hand over his face and Caroline whirled to face away, somehow superspeed just wasn't fast enough. "Oh, good grife!"

Querl lowered his head until he bonked his brow against the console he was standing at. "Ah, well. Perhaps I should have gotten you that towel after all. My kingdom for an anti-cotton synthesis formula."

Caroline, blushing redder than Rao himself, eyes clenched shut, started laughing. Just... laughing. What a day it had been.

"She's laughing after seeing you naked, Random Lad," Garth pointed out.

Rond glanced worriedly at Caroline. "That's not a good sound."

Querl straightened, and regarded Wildfire dourly. "So. Shall we close the barn door after the equestrian has absconded, by which I mean... pants?"

 

[Abraxas Winterlight]

The Graveyard Lord Returns, and All shall Kneel Before Him

Heaven travels in light. candles, sunlight, even the lights off a Christmas tree allow him to move through the walls separating worlds. Shadow, travels in Darkness. Graveyard moans and a cold feeling across your soul heralding it's arrival.

Hell finds it's path through fire, guided by hatred.One would think this is somewhat limiting, but fire can almost always be found somewhere, if not deep under the earth, as the blood of a planet is molten rock, then in the heart of stars, atomic fury lighting up the galaxies.

Most beings do not know these facts though, so when Rikktt, third rank geologist of the Southern Hive saw three bipeds walking out of the stream of falling lava, seemingly immune to the effects it would have on flesh and bone, his antennae quivered forward in the position of perplexing, and his truehands dropped the expensive measuring devices upon the warm glass like rocks, shattering the display of one and cracking the containment beaker of the other.

"Free!!! My love, we are free of that hell we were exiled to!! And under a yellow sun too. I can feel myself growing stronger, I can feel myself becoming a God." Aethyr exclaimed, turning her face to the sky and twirling, as if she was dancing among raindrops.

Nam-Ek just strode next to his commander, as silent as always, waiting for his Masters command to unleash his fury wherever directed. He too could feel the cells of his body drinking in the warmth of the yellow sun, feel his power growing.

"You are not a god, but a child who has gained some small measure of power Aethyr. Control yourself, I did not bring you here to dance, I brought you here for revenge. One we hate is here. I can feel it, deep in my breast one I wish to see torn asunder, made to submit all he has to offer, then crushed is here. Not the daughter of Zor-El, but one who knew him well." spoke the General, though now that title seemed, too little. He was not a God, for he had met a God and knelt at his feet.

Zod the Conquerer? But then, why add anything. He was Zod, and zoom all would kneel before him, knowing the terrible power he held within him.

Rikktt could understand all that was said of course. He knew the language of the Protector like all of his kind, and spoke it well.

What he did not know was this was his last day on Sanctuary.

Zod had arrived.

 

[AmenRa]

"Oh. Oh great God."

Well. If it isn't my favourite Martian.

And she grinned. Oh, how she grinned.

Bendigedig.

Like a chessboard across forever, the pieces were falling into place...

Brande gave the invisible angel a wink.

Over her blacked-over eye, Liz' eyebrow arched, and she pursed her lips, tried to keep her poker-face firmly locked down. Is this it? Is this now? Are we showing our cards?

You play a dangerous game; flirting with disaster. But if anyone can smile in the face of disaster, it's you.

Manhunter without Fear.

I've never been much good at card games. Regardless of the danger, I must attempt to contact Zor-El's essence within the Fortress of Solitude. This Child of Shadow must be revealed to us.

"I'm an idiot," he stated bluntly. "Var-Sen. And Raya. They both knew Kara Zor-El in her infancy before a later reunion in The Phantom Zone. And they both worked with her father."

He paused, and looked at his hands. He still wondered how Brande knew what he knew, this Knower of Things, this Decipherer of Secrets.

But the legendary Valor knew a thing or two himself.

"It seems that even Sanctuary can keep them safe no longer."[/QUOTE]

"Actually," Brande told the Daxamite, "I hadn't considered the scientist Var-Sen or his wife, Raya. Sanctuary exists to keep them secluded and safe, and although I am sure they would willingly provide aide to us, their oath to the Gaurdians of the Universe requires them to stay put, for the moment.

"No," he sighed, looking off, "I was thinking of someone else...."

Brande turned once more, looking over those gathered within the room. He matched eyes with Liz, looking deep for a long moment. Within that moment, he told her many things, the most of which were not to worry, he would return, and he loved her.

The doors swished open as R. J. Brande left the room.

 

[AmenRa]

The Fortress of Solitude

Brande did not say good-bye to anyone as he strode through the Legion HQ's hallways. He walked to an end hallway and turned into a storage room.

Brande changed, becoming the ancient and familiar visage of the Martian Manhunter. He rendered himself invisible and intangible, and he soared upwards into the air above the Legion of Superheroes buiilding.

The Martian Manhunter flew north. He passed over the upper continent of North America, leaving a wake of condensed air as he traveled. Soon, the pristine white of the northern Arctic came into view, and he saw a vast landscape of drifted snow and craggy, volcanic formed peaks.

He pressed on, flying lower as he entered an area of white mist. The denseness of this fog, formed from a constant blizzard, blanketed everything in perpetual white. Only with the aid of his Martian senses was J'onn J'onzz able to penetrate the veil.

And then, he was on top of it. It rose from the floor of arctic ice and freezing watery bergs like a great crystal mountain of spires and points. It shimmered with the light of the Aurora Borealis, reflecting and refracting the primary colors of red, blue, and yellow. It was a structure unlike any other on Earth.

The Fortress of Solitude.

Once home to Kara Zor-El, the Last Daughter of Krypton, the Fortress had stood for an eternity. Designed by Kryptonian technology, the structure would stand for eons to come, undamaged by Earth's natural forces, and testament to the power once held by Supergirl herself.

J'onn became visible and whole again, and he touched down at the southern base of the Fortress. He walked to the entrance and stood still. His path of further ingress was barred by a crystalline matrix of spikes and solid wall. A blue-white light suddenly bathed him, and then, slowly, the spikes retracted and the crystal wall slide aside. As the Martian Manhunter had hoped, the Fortress had recognized him and allowed him entry. If, for some reason, the Fortress had not recognized the Martian, automated defense systems would have come online and halted further progress.

As J'onn entered the Fortress, the once dormant power supply came online, and the lighting came to power, illuminating the walls and seemingly endless-height ceilings. J'onn made his way to the central chamber of the Fortress.

In the central chamber, the control panel still stood silently and waiting. J'onn reached his hand out and passed it over the console. The crystals reacted, some of them receding into the console while the others rose outward. An audible hum came on then as, within the center of the great room, a hologram of Zor-El of Krypton fuzzed to life.

 

[Wyldfire]

Unaligned space, Lantern sector 3

The blonde woman lifted from the atmo, her large cargo held high. She acknoledged the Lantern that was in orbital patrol as she departed. she wasn't comfortable in the wardrobe she was in, but it had made sure the protection here was even better. The red, loose sleeved tunic, yellow belt, red pants, blue boots, and blue cape with gold clasps, the uniform of the priests of Valor. No one would look for a Daxamite to be caught dead in one, but here Laurel was, under cover in this guise. She was ordered to infiltrate so she could get exactly this duty. Guarding over the Ancient power. He had a name he liked to be called, Allan. A human name. An Earther name. The Daxamite people, the Coluans, the Guardians, and one or two on Earth even knew he was still alive. These were the people she was going to send the message to. It was time.

As Laurel approached the position she needed to be in to send the transmission the second Lantern on the duty joined her. She said "Point me towards sector 2814?"

The Lantern looking as serious as Laurel just pointed and gave the co-ordinates. Laurel maneuvered the array she was carrying into position and keyed it online. "I have a message. Allan asks how Uncle Ted and Mother are doing. It is time. Get here asap with any applicants. Urgent timeline. Repeat urgent timeline"

On a secluded island, now a rarely visited museum a bank of communication arrays came online. The message came through and began looping. Over and over.

The caretaker of the museum slowly worked her way to the system. Once she heard the message her elderly physique became a lie. Her feet left the ground and she flew to a chair. Sitting down she keyed a series of switches and in several places throughout the world, a cave, an isolated sanctum in the arctic planes, and a certain rich man's home. "I wish this was a happier call, but it's not. I don't know how many of you are still with us, but it is Allan's time. The Starheart is passing on. I have the quadrant and position he is currently at. Please, if you are able, come to the Themyscira museum of History."

That bit of business over the old white haired woman let the tears come. Another of us gone to sorrow. One more who has chosen to give up the battle.

 

[Lunaramblings]

Seeing Mer, even if it was just a projection of him, was still a shock.

"Jonah, stop it!" Wraith said, standing and walking over to the window overlooking the courtyard.

"Oh, Kyle, guess you missed the memo. Jonah can't exactly stop it. Not until my task is done. See, he has summoned me. This spiritual form. But he can't banish me. I was brought here to do one thing. Make you see the truth. Once I have said my piece, I will go. See, I am not just some automaton. Not wholly. I am Merick. I am Rift. Johnny Number Five is ALIVE!"
Merick, even more whole than a moment ago follows his once best friend to the window.

"No, I am not the same man that watched you grow from a baby to the man you are now. I have been fighting a war for ten thousand years. I have killed, over and over again. Angels, Demons, Fae and anything else that sought to take me down and my lands. I have eradicated the threat of the Ravagers when Lucifer released them upon the weeping plains, though they were called the Golden Lands then. Remember the movie Alien? Cameron almost got them right. Dreamers sometimes brush up against things that are better left unknown." Wraith drained the last of my glass and sat it down on the windowsill.

"Christ Kyle, this really it huh? You know, I used to like the arrangement we had. Me and you threw one liners and occassionally surprisingly deep philosophy, Damien did all the emo shit." Merick grinned and leaned a bit closer to Kyle.

"Throughout all the centuries, I have never taken a human life, and I would not do so lightly, but if my hand is forced, I could do it. (It would kill the last human part of my soul, but I could do it. Oh Rose, you were my soul..)" Kyle said the last part in a whisper.

"And what then Kyle? What then? Kyle, for Christ sake, this is not right. You may be the great and powerful Oz here, but in truth, your just a scared, fucked up little shit. You think taking a life ever solves anything? Hell, skip over to Dream. Ask Edmund about what taking a life does for you. You think Rose would want you to even consider this? The fact you are would make her sick. Rose knew better than all of us. You loved her. You love her. Then honor her. Honor her in every breathe, every flutter of an eyelash, every blink of your eye. Be the man she loved. Be the man I never could. You were among the best of us Kyle. You never faltered. Don't start now."

I turned back to my nephew, but before I could speak a flash of light erupted into being, and a huge white feather drifted down from the ceiling. In midair, it burst into flames, filling the room with the stench of Helfire and burnt feather.

"Oh damn!" I said, and sat down shakily at the windowsill, sending the crystal goblet tumbling down to shatter on the flagstones below.

Jonah looked out the window. It had been a long time since he had used these powers. Jonah smiled at seeing his two uncles back together. Side by side. For just a second, he felt like he was at home.

 

[Lunaramblings]

He paused. Remembered what it had been like.

He knew what longing felt like.

"While I think there are. Far better. Uses of my time than 'getting you laid?'"

He took a deep breath. And he nodded.

And he looked Wildfire in the eye. "I'll do my best. You have my word."

The door to the lab wsssshed open and Garth strolled in. "And here we are, tenth floor, bubbling beakers, sizzling electrodes, floaty valorium bricks--"

He paused as Rond and Caroline strolled up behind him. "--uh. Random naked glowy guys."

"Ain't nothin' random bout this guy there Pinkie." Wildfire grinned. God it felt good to REALLY grin. To have musculature again.

Tilting his head, he let out a low whistle. "Which, by the way, woah, dude. It's a good thing that thing's not concealed, or you'd need a licence for it."

"Well, not to brag, but...

Rond winced and clapped his hand over his face and Caroline whirled to face away, somehow superspeed just wasn't fast enough. "Oh, good grife!"

Querl lowered his head until he bonked his brow against the console he was standing at. "Ah, well. Perhaps I should have gotten you that towel after all. My kingdom for an anti-cotton synthesis formula."

Caroline, blushing redder than Rao himself, eyes clenched shut, started laughing. Just... laughing. What a day it had been.

"She's laughing after seeing you naked, Random Lad," Garth pointed out.

"Hysterics. When ones mind can not fathom the sheer magnitude of things, it often takes solace in hysterics."

Rond glanced worriedly at Caroline. "That's not a good sound."

Querl straightened, and regarded Wildfire dourly. "So. Shall we close the barn door after the equestrian has absconded, by which I mean... pants?"

"I suppose. Let's get this done shall we?" Wildfire continued to grin as he awaited Brainy's ministrations.

 

[Varshanka]

Allana Lang - The Legion Lobby

"Trust is not given," Tasmia scoffed. "It is earned. All the promises in all the worlds could all be for naught until we witness you in action with our own eyes."

“Then I suggest that you put me in the face of the enemy. So that I can begin earning your trust. But you already have my trust.”

“As for commanding others, it’s a phrasing. I am a Knight. I lead. But in the ranks of Knight hood I also follow commands of superiors. Just as I obeyed and came here. To alliance, to join, the Legion.”

 

[ChasNicollette]

Ceriel, GL 2261, M'onel, Shadow Lass, Kid Quantum, Lightning Lass. The Lobby.

Brande gave the invisible angel a wink.

Ceriel returned the wink with a wicked grin. See, this is what I like about the future. Everyone's a flirt.

I've never been much good at card games. Regardless of the danger, I must attempt to contact Zor-El's essence within the Fortress of Solitude. This Child of Shadow must be revealed to us.

Liz nodded subtly, nigh-imperceptibly. Of course. Sooner rather than later. Good luck, then.

H'ronmeerspeed.

"I'm an idiot," he stated bluntly. "Var-Sen. And Raya. They both knew Kara Zor-El in her infancy before a later reunion in The Phantom Zone. And they both worked with her father."

He paused, and looked at his hands. He still wondered how Brande knew what he knew, this Knower of Things, this Decipherer of Secrets.

But the legendary Valor knew a thing or two himself.

"It seems that even Sanctuary can keep them safe no longer."

"Actually," Brande told the Daxamite, "I hadn't considered the scientist Var-Sen or his wife, Raya. Sanctuary exists to keep them secluded and safe, and although I am sure they would willingly provide aide to us, their oath to the Gaurdians of the Universe requires them to stay put, for the moment.

M'onel looked almost relieved at that. Social anxiety. He was no coward when it came to combat, when it came to saving lives, but when it meant coming to grips with the past...

"No," he sighed, looking off, "I was thinking of someone else...."

M'onel frowned, running down the options again in his head: "Who, then?"

Brande turned once more, looking over those gathered within the room. He matched eyes with Liz, looking deep for a long moment. Within that moment, he told her many things, the most of which were not to worry, he would return, and he loved her.

An expression was worth a thousand words. Even more when the man with that face could compress a lifetime of myriad emotion into a single burst.

(A thousand years ago, when first she had heard him speak into her mind, it had felt so strange. 'Prepare your frontal cortex.')

She was hardly as skilled at being so communicative as him. And her face was not in the habit of expressing things dynamically. But she did her best under the circumstances.

Be safe.

Come back to me.

I love you.

The doors swished open as R. J. Brande left the room.

M'onel had no telepathic gift, but he had borne witness to that subtle wordless exchange.

(So, too, had Ceriel.)

"Got a thing for younger guys, huh?" he wondered, eyeing her. "I mean, you're what, 900-something?"

Liz didn't quite smile at that. She just gave him a look, and then glanced, with feeling, at Tasmia. "'Age ain't nothing but a number.'"

(Ceriel chortled at that, and returned her attention to Magdalena.)

M'onel lifted his hands in a 'don't-shoot' sort of gesture. "Hey, I don't judge."

M'onel did, however, glance again the direction of R.J.'s disappearance. Just a quick glance, without any superpowered assist to his vision. "Who d'you think he meant?"

"I'm a cop," Liz replied, strolling towards the Knight and the three girl Legionnaires, "not a mind-reader."

M'onel chuckled faintly, and followed. "Fair enough."

"Trust is not given," Tasmia scoffed. "It is earned. All the promises in all the worlds could all be for naught until we witness you in action with our own eyes."

“Then I suggest that you put me in the face of the enemy. So that I can begin earning your trust. But you already have my trust.”

“As for commanding others, it’s a phrasing. I am a Knight. I lead. But in the ranks of Knight hood I also follow commands of superiors. Just as I obeyed and came here. To alliance, to join, the Legion.”

"She makes a good point, Talokian," Liz suggested as she strolled up. "A man named Roland Desmond once suggested to his associates, 'Save your animus for the enemy.'"

(That had been an interesting case. Undercover work in The 'Haven, infiltrating Desmond's den of hired villains, many of whom were hand-picked from The Stable of Shadows. Lady Vic, Brutale, Electrocutioner, Stallion, et al...

Dick had been posing as Shrike, and Liz had taped her chest and lowered her voice to pose as Shrike's henchboy Boone. One of The Psyba-Rats, infiltrating less successfully independent of "The Bat-Family," had inadvertently revealed their duplicity, and they'd had to fight their way out.

They'd nearly leveled Blockbuster's house in Avalon Hill in the process.

Blockbuster had not been pleased.

Bruce had been... entertained.)

"'Save your animus for the enemy,' then," Liz smirked faintly. "And your ardour for your allies."

Tasmia arched both eyebrows at the lightbringer, a sort of 'you wanna piece'a me?' expression on her face. "Should this ardour be ascribed any ally in particular?"

Liz met Tasmia's gaze with eyes lidded o'er by shadows. "Should it not?"

"Woah, the drama," Kid Quantum shook her head, five fingers to her forehead.

"'Welcome, my friends, to the show that never ends,'" M'onel agreed, quoting a lyric VM3 had quipped to him on the day The Doctor had dropped him off in Brainy's lab.

"Then again," Ceriel murmured to herself, "perhaps too much flirting does more harm than good."

Ayla simply tsked, and refocused her attention on Allana. "Sometimes Legion tryouts are based on a simple display of power for comparison purposes. Other times, it's a field op, depends on who's officiating. What'll probably happen, you'll do a thing with this new Lantern kid that Mister Brande wants us to swear in. Would you be good with that?"

 

[ChasNicollette]

Brainiac 5, Lightning Lad, Powergirl, Teen Lantern. The Lab. (Apologies to "D'n'A.")

Querl straightened, and regarded Wildfire dourly. "So. Shall we close the barn door after the equestrian has absconded, by which I mean... pants?"

"I suppose. Let's get this done shall we?" Wildfire continued to grin as he awaited Brainy's ministrations.

"Seriously?" Garth blinked, his jaw falling low. "Wildfire, is that you? Man, I knew you 'packed heat,' but that's ridiculous."

Caroline scrunched her eyes shut even tighter. "Right, so, cooling it with the euphemisms about that anatomy I just saw. Or I might get a little bit more than 'hysterical.'"

"There's a time and a place," Rond suggested, trying to be chivalrous.

"Couldn't have put it better," Querl harrumphed, glancing worriedly at Powergirl. Of all the circumstances under which he'd wished to be reunited with her, this had not been an eventuality he'd countenanced.

"Prepare yourself, ERG-1."

His finger pressed down hard on the console. The suspension field flickered...

The rings of use-weave quivered.

HMMMMMMMMMM.

The rings of use-weave snapped inward. The interior force-membrane made contact with Wildfire's anti-energy/anti-matter flux...

FWAASH.

And held.

As the rings snapped inward, they split into tendrils and rivulets, tangles and threads, they swirled and furled around the figure of light at the middle of it all.

SHLIPP FWIPP FWIPP FWIPP SHLIPP FWIPP SHLIPP FWIPP FWIPP SHLIPP FWLIPP.

And there he stood.

Wildfire. Phenomenal cosmic power. Itty-bitty living-space.

The genie was back in the bottle.

"There we go," Brainiac murmured. "Infinitely preferable."

"You can say that again," Caroline lifted her head, and smiled wanly at him.

Brainiac blinked, tried to stay calm. Minds, this one was aesthetically pleasing.

"I, ah," he murmured, "wasn't aware it warranted reiteration."

"No," Caroline smiled softly at him. Same old Brainy. "I suppose it doesn't."