miss maggie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bossymarmalade) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thejusticelounge2013-02-06 05:53 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2013-02-06 05:53 pm
Entry tags:
vergiften
“Desaad!” the Lord and Conquerer of Apokolips called out from his throne room. ”Come in here! I have something for you to do. A task for my… amusement.”
“Yes Almighty Darkseid” the Master Torturer of Apokolips and Darkseid’s right hand answered as he entered the throne room bowing. ”What is thy will my Lord?” Before his Dark Master could answer, Desaad saw an Earth pilot suit and helmet on a table in the corner of the room.
“Dress in this disguise,” Darkseid commanded, “go to Earth, steal something called a ‘helicopter’, then send this invitation to the one known as the Flamebird. Then wait at these coordinates for further instructions.” The evil lord handed his henchman a piece of paper with numbers written on it.
“Of course Mighty One” Desaad answered pulling off his robe and putting on the jumpsuit. Grabbing the helmet, he opened a boom tube with his remote and began to walk through the gateway to another dimension.
“Your will commands all Great Darkseid!” Desaad shouted as the boom of his trans-dimensional travel reverberated through the room.
Darkseid, rarely one to allow anyone else to see him do so, allowed himself a private smile…
It was easy enough to find a helicopter rental business. It was even easier to kill the owner and take his place, though Desaad would have preferred capture and long torture sessions. But he was following direct orders from his Master.
Desaad sent the invitation through the mail as instructed, then piloted the stolen helicopter to the Earth coordinates as he was told.
“I have arrived at the location you instructed, I have acquired the items that you requested, and have sent the invitation as you commanded Lord Darkseid” Desaad’s voice announced over the communicator in Darkseid’s throne room on Apokolips. ”What shall I do next?”
Darkseid paused before answering. He knew Desaad was too mush of a sniveling sycophant to interrupt him and press for a response. After a full, excruciating - for Desaad - five minutes of waiting in silence had passed, Darkseid finally answered. ”I am sending you plans for a device you shall construct in the machine’s passenger bay. Make sure it is concealed and appears as normal, everyday items that are already onboard so as not to raise suspicions. When the girl arrives, well…”
Darkseid spent the next few minutes detailing his plan in precise and gory horror causing a shiver to run through even Desaad’s warped and twisted soul. What? Did you think he would share it with you, the reader? Come on! He’s Darkseid! He’s not stupid…
“Certainly m’lord” Desaad answered through the comm when he was certain Darkseid had completed his evil plans. “Thy will be done.”
“Yes, it will be done as it always is, lowly Desaad” the Lord of Apokolips chided. ”As it always is…”
Dear Ms. B. Kane, as a former guest of Purgatory at Durango Mountain Resort, you have been randomly selected by to enjoy a complimentary one-night stay at our luxurious lodge following one heli-skiing trip to the top of Purgatory Peak on Durango Mountain, Colorado.
This prize must be claimed in person at our heli-ski hangar in Denver, CO prior to Tuesday, November 27, 2012. Please note this offer is non-transferable.
(Purgatory Lodge and its associates are not responsible for any injuries, death, psychological torture at the hands of Darkseid or his minions, or lost or stolen items as a result of our heli-ski tours.)
“The 27th? But that’s tomorrow. Stupid UPS!” She hurried to her room and began packing and planning her use of the Zeta pads for her own personal getaway to Colorado for 24 hours.
“Adrenalineville, here I come!” she sang gleefully to herself as she tried to recall where she kept her designer crash helmet.
The cold Colorado wind was biting through Desaad’s disguise. But though he was miserable, he would never dare complain about it. His life was for Darkseid. His existence was only to serve his Master - and his Master had sent him here.
Desaad had carried out Darkseid’s plans. He had designed and built the device in the passenger compartment as his Lord had instructed. It was hidden beyond detection and ready to spring upon his prey.
Speaking of which…
Desaad looked across the open field and saw a young, blonde woman heading his way, smiling. She was wearing a bag over one shoulder and carrying a personalized helmet in the other hand. It was time. He was about to carry out Darkseid’s will - the only thing that made his miserable, inferior life worth living. ”It is time, Master” Desaad reported.
Darkseid did not give his servant the pleasure of a response…
Bette bounded up to the skinny helicopter pilot and gave a cheerful greeting, her skis bag strapped to the duffel over her shoulder. “Hi! I’m Bette Kane! I got this voucher in the mail for a free heli-ski and 1 night stay? I hope I’m not too late to claim it. Please say I’m not too late?” she batted her eyelashes for good measure as she presented the voucher.
He seemed an okay sort of guy, although the faint sulfurous odor was a little off-putting. Ah well, at least it wasn’t pot and his eyes weren’t bloodshot. She liked adrenaline and risk-taking, but going anywhere with a pilot who was high before he even left the ground was a mistake she didn’t intend to repeat. There was a reason she didn’t ski Whistler Mountain anymore…
Desaad attempted to smile at the friendly girl as he took the voucher, but his toothy grin came off more as an angry sneer than anything else. He never had any reason for anything else on Apokolips. But even he could see that his visage was off putting, so he nodded while quickly looking away and gestured with his thumb to the passenger compartment.
Darkseid’s trusted lieutenant started up the helicopter’s engine. The rotor blades started spinning overhead, gradually picking up speed. The young heroine climbed in and strapped herself into the jump seat. Desaad turned to see her, and pulled back on the steering stick, lifting the sleek whirlybird off the ground.
The great and powerful Darkseid’s plan was coming to fruition…
Bette couldn’t resist a squeal of delight as the ‘copter lifted off and took them high above Denver and towards the snow-capped peaks of dozens of ski mountains scattered throughout this area of the Rockies. “So how long before we get to Purgatory Peak?” she asked, but the pilot gave no reply. Maybe he wasn’t a chatty sort.
Or, of course, he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the rotors. She picked up the headphones and repeated, a bit more loudly, “So how long before we get to the Peak?”
Still nothing.
She examined the wire attaching the headphones, but could see no “on” switch. It escaped her notice that the pilot had side-eyed her and reached to the dash to flick the very switch she herself had been looking for, so she tried again, with a marked increase in volume: “SO HOW LONG BEFORE WE ARRIVE AT PURGATORY?” she hollared into the mic.
The helicopter shook and lurched as Desaad dropped the control stick to pull the headphones off of his still ringing ears. This so called “Flamebird” had quite the screech! After leveling his flight, Desaad responded “Two minutes!” before making a pointed effort to be noticed turning off the communicator.
The Master Torturer of Apokolips was many things, but he was not the chatty sort…
The helicopter rose and banked left, giving Desaad’s passenger the view of a lifetime. He flipped another switch and a digital sign lit up in the passenger compartment displaying this message:
Please unfasten seatbelt, strap on your skis, stand by the exit door, and prepare for a BOOMing good time!
Desaad was nearly giddy with anticipation of completing Darkseid’s evil instructions. His left cheek was twitching in anticipation…
Humph. What a grouch, she thought to herself, but she forgot about it as soon as the light came on. This is it!
Her heart rate was already increasing rapidly as she freed herself from the seat and slid her skis from their bag and tucked it into the small duffel. She shrugged it onto her shoulders, then strapped on the skis and helmet, and tapped the pilot on the shoulder to give him the customary thumbs-up.
One hand on the door handle, and she watched and waited for the signal.
This is just what I needed, to just take some time to get away from it all, and spend some quality time covering this mountain, she smiled to herself.
“Now…” Darkseid commanded over the helicopter’s comm.
“Yes, my Master” Desaad responded. It was now the moment he had been savoring since being given this mission. He pushed the button that put into effect Lord Darkseid’s plan.
As the passenger door slid open, an impenetrable iron sheet fell, blocking access to the pilot. From the right side of the door, another digital sign appeared bearing the words:
Darkseid sends his regards!
The helicopter dipped sharply, sending its passenger toward the exit. To the left of the door, a mechanical hand shot forth holding a large cream pie. It slapped the pie directly into Bette’s begoggled face. And finally, the coup de grâce - a large leg wearing a comically oversized boot slid out of a compartment directly behind her, kicking her in the posterior and out of the helicopter door.
Desaad pushed another button, opening a large boom tube directly in front of the flying machine and piloting it directly through to the dark skies of Apokolips. The last thing anyone looking up saw was a cackling helicopter pilot flying through to another dimension as a lone figure in skis fell towards the mountain below…
Darkseid? her mind flashed as the sign lit up, explaining the metal shield dropping. The ‘copter lurched to the side and she barely caught herself in the doorframe to keep from falling out, but with skiis on her feet and a duffel on her back she was too uncoordinated to do more than that.
The pie hit, blinding her to the comic appeal of the object that she felt hit her behind from, well, behind, and she experienced the terror of falling, unable to see the ground. Before she could utter a scream, she hit the snow face-down, her knees bent and skiis upraised and even with the slope; thank G-d, they had been low to the ground, and the powder was fresh and soft.
It was also slippery, and she felt herself slide a steep slope, her arms outstretched in terror to stop herself before she picked up speed and hit a tree, or worse, the edge of a cliff face. No one knows where I am. *I* don’t know where I am. The slope’s unmarked. If I’m injured, I could die up here!
She managed to lift her face, her goggles covered now with snow and not whipped cream (and from the taste it wasn’t even fresh, it was some cheap, aerated oil product) just to catch sight of a shadow and reach out for it. Her thick glove touched small branches, and she grabbed hold, the smell of pine filling her nostrils. Evergreen boughs whipped at her helmet, loud in her ears but welcome, as she took hold of some unseen branch and slowed her descent.
Collecting herself, she wiped her goggles clean and spat out the remaining fake “whipped cream”, then turned to gaze up the slope to see how far she’d fallen. A long, Bette-wide swath was cut into the powder about a hundred feet up; she’d been going slower than she’d realized, having no visual frame of reference. All in all, she’d come through it rather unscathed, she thought as she stood herself up, dusted off the snow front her front and checked her ski bindings. Even her poles had managed to stay with her thanks to the wrist-straps. She laughed with relief, and the giddy rush of adrenaline.
She gazed down the mountainside and guagued the rest of the terrain: a wide, steep, slope, untouched that day but most definitely used before by heli-skiiers, and hardly any trees to be seen; she’d been lucky to slide close to this one. At the end of this trail, there had to be civilization, and she just had to ski it. Too easy.
As she replaced her goggles, she felt, more than heard, a rumbling in the air and through her skiis. She barely spared a glanced uphill to confirm what she already knew, and her legs were already now reacting to: an avalanche.
Bette bolted down the hill from a stationary position like a mogul racer whose start signal had just sounded. The thought passed through her mind that the sheet of packed snow had dislodged from the mountaintop because of the boom tube she’d heard the helicopter activate. No moment could be lost now to spare another glance back at the roiling wall of snow rumbling behind her. Assume it’s gaining on you. Faster…MOVE FASTER!
She was going impossible speed, now, and any tiny error, or tumble, and she would be dead. Leaning left, sticking her right foot slightly forward, she managed a turn that slowed her only slightly, allowing her more control. The rumbling was deafening. She was seconds from being overtaken as she reached the thicker treeline of the mountain. You’re going to die. They won’t find you until late spring…if you’re lucky.
No. Not happening.
Swim ‘upstream’ …make yourself a pocket …spit to see which way is up …communicator in right pocket…
Trees. Deke left. Right. Leaning to far! TOO FAR! There. Straighten up. Left.
She didn’t look back, didn’t even think to. Couldn’t take her eyes off the way ahead of her even if she wanted to, there was hardly time to blink at the speeds she was going. She’d gone another very long, very intense, thirty seconds before she realized the death-heralding rumbling was reduced to only echoes now from other peaks and the forest around her. It was much longer than that before she was finally able to slow her her descent enough to skid to a stop on the mountainside, sending up a great cloud of powder before her, and look up the slope to confirm:
She’d made it.
Falling back deliberately to lay on the snow, she laughed, long and drunkenly. She was alive, and rejoicing in that very palpable relief that washed over her, the thrill of the moment still with her, her heart pounding like it could burst, pumping the endorphins and adrenaline through her.
Yes. This was exactly what she’d needed.
“Wait, so, let me get this straight….” Dick paced his apartment, undressing as he talked on the phone. ”You’re in Colorado, and you saw Darkseid?”
“No, I saw Darkseid’s minion. One of them, anyway.”
“In Colorado.”
“Yes.”
“Right. Right, why don’t I zeta there and pick you up, and you can fill me—” He paused as a message pinged on his phone. ”Hold on, someone’s… someone sent me something.”
He muted the call and opened the video, intrigued by the still preview frame. It looked like… “Bette?” He watched the video, eyes wide with a mix of horror and concern. He knew she was mostly all right, or he was sure she would’ve told him, but…
Oh god, she must have no idea this was out.
Switching on the sound, he started packing up a bag. ”Hey, y’know what? I’m gonna come out and meet you there. Why don’t we stay for a bit? I’ve got something you really need to see before… I’ve got something for you to see.”
Three minutes after they’d said goodbye, Dick was zetaing off to meet her.
She waited right where she called him from, right at the coordinates he said he’d zeta to meet her, but she still felt a bit odd. Yes, she was bruised up a bit over her body, and understandably shaken…she’d wrenched her left shoulder trying to stop her fall down the mountain, but she wasn’t really doing that poorly. It was sweet that he was concerned, though.
Still, if Dick said stay put and let him meet her, she wasn’t going to fight it. She was used to his leadership, and she trusted him as much now as she ever had in the Titans. Besides, if she could trust anyone in the League to be discrete about her little Colorado adventure, it was him. He wasn’t the type to embarrass her publicly. This whole mess could just remain between the two of them, and nothing more than a “sighting of one of Darkseid’s minions” need be reported to the League.
The air ten feet away from her, behind the high wall of stacked firewood for the lodge sparkled to life, and Dick Grayson stepped out of the light, not like some hero come to save a damsel in distress, but like the concerned friend she wanted and knew he was to her.
“Hey,” she greeted him, wearing a mildly chagrined expression on her face, and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had come loose from her ponytail. She left her duffel bag where she’s set them on the ground and crossed the distance to him quickly, and was so grateful when she got there that she didn’t need to spell it out to him that she could really use one of his hugs. “Thanks for coming, Dick,” she spoke muffled into his shoulder, a sense of safety now washing over her.
Dick wrapped his arms tight around her, rubbing her back as he spoke into her hair. ”You’re welcome, Bette. I’m glad you called.” He hugged her for a few moments more before pulling her back a bit to look her over for any signs of severe damage. Momentarily satisfied she wasn’t too terribly injured, Dick slung his bag across his back and wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders. ”Why don’t we have some lunch or something, and you can tell me all about it?”
Once they were settled in with some hot food, Dick started up the questions again. ”And you’re sure nothing’s broken, right? You’re absolutely sure? Not too hurt or anything?”
“Just my pride,” she replied sheepishly over her dessert coffee. “My shoulder’s seen better days, and I’m bruised, but my helmet and ski suit took the worst of the fall from the helicopter and colliding with the evergreen boughs.” She reached across the table and laid a hand on his, “Thanks for caring, Dick. And for joining me, this is going to be fun, skiing up here. I always have so much more fun when skiing with a friend than alone.”
Bette looked out over the foot of slopes surrounding the lodge, and the view of this small section of the Rockies in the area. “Kate’s not expecting me home until late tomorrow. I really don’t want her to catch wind of what happened, so, no one needs to know right? I can report to the league seeing Darkseid’s underling, and leave it at that?”
Dick smiled, turning his hand to squeeze hers. ”I’m glad you called. As long as you’re sure you’re OK to ski…” He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, and squeezed her hand once more before letting go.
Dick grimaced at her question, sucking air through his teeth as he tried to think of a response. ”Well… that’s kind of the other reason I came out here. You, uh, need to see something.”
He pulled out his phone and brought up the video message, muting the volume in case anyone walking by decided to be nosy. He smiled tightly and slid the phone to her, his fingers twisting together anxiously as he watched her reaction.
If it had been someone else, maybe anyone else, and part of an America’s Funniest Home Videos montage set to the chase theme music from The Benny Hill Show as performed by a kazoo orchestra, with appropriate crash and splat sound effects added in all the right places, it might have been amusing.
Bette watched in pure dread as saw herself on the film stumble forward on her skis with poles flying as they dangled from her wrists, to then get splatted in the face with a pie by a mechanical am, then booted in the rear by another contraption, only to be filmed landing face-first in the snow and sliding like that down the hill, her skis flailing above her. A few questions to Dick confirmed her worst fears.
“Everyone in the League? And the media, too?” She would never live this down. ”Oh, G-d…Dick, I’m a laughing stock! More than I already was before this! Is there any part of my life that isn’t open to total ridicule?”
Dick instinctively reached out for her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. ”I called Oracle before I came here. She said she’d do some damage control, so that’ll help some. It’s… I didn’t want you to find out from somebody else.”
He squeezed her hand. ”You’re not a laughing stock. Anyone who’s hurting you, you tell me, and I’ll—” He cut himself off, still rubbing her hand. ”I don’t know if this is the place, but do you… Do you want to talk about anything? Anyone who’s been ridiculing you, this, anything?”
Bette stiffened slightly, very slightly pulling away more out of discomfort than from a desire to get away from him. Dick teethed his lip for a moment, then smiled and sat up a little straighter. ”Come on, let’s go get you set up in a room, alright? You were promised a free night’s stay, so let’s make sure you at least get that!”
“Yes Almighty Darkseid” the Master Torturer of Apokolips and Darkseid’s right hand answered as he entered the throne room bowing. ”What is thy will my Lord?” Before his Dark Master could answer, Desaad saw an Earth pilot suit and helmet on a table in the corner of the room.
“Dress in this disguise,” Darkseid commanded, “go to Earth, steal something called a ‘helicopter’, then send this invitation to the one known as the Flamebird. Then wait at these coordinates for further instructions.” The evil lord handed his henchman a piece of paper with numbers written on it.
“Of course Mighty One” Desaad answered pulling off his robe and putting on the jumpsuit. Grabbing the helmet, he opened a boom tube with his remote and began to walk through the gateway to another dimension.
“Your will commands all Great Darkseid!” Desaad shouted as the boom of his trans-dimensional travel reverberated through the room.
Darkseid, rarely one to allow anyone else to see him do so, allowed himself a private smile…
It was easy enough to find a helicopter rental business. It was even easier to kill the owner and take his place, though Desaad would have preferred capture and long torture sessions. But he was following direct orders from his Master.
Desaad sent the invitation through the mail as instructed, then piloted the stolen helicopter to the Earth coordinates as he was told.
“I have arrived at the location you instructed, I have acquired the items that you requested, and have sent the invitation as you commanded Lord Darkseid” Desaad’s voice announced over the communicator in Darkseid’s throne room on Apokolips. ”What shall I do next?”
Darkseid paused before answering. He knew Desaad was too mush of a sniveling sycophant to interrupt him and press for a response. After a full, excruciating - for Desaad - five minutes of waiting in silence had passed, Darkseid finally answered. ”I am sending you plans for a device you shall construct in the machine’s passenger bay. Make sure it is concealed and appears as normal, everyday items that are already onboard so as not to raise suspicions. When the girl arrives, well…”
Darkseid spent the next few minutes detailing his plan in precise and gory horror causing a shiver to run through even Desaad’s warped and twisted soul. What? Did you think he would share it with you, the reader? Come on! He’s Darkseid! He’s not stupid…
“Certainly m’lord” Desaad answered through the comm when he was certain Darkseid had completed his evil plans. “Thy will be done.”
“Yes, it will be done as it always is, lowly Desaad” the Lord of Apokolips chided. ”As it always is…”
Dear Ms. B. Kane, as a former guest of Purgatory at Durango Mountain Resort, you have been randomly selected by to enjoy a complimentary one-night stay at our luxurious lodge following one heli-skiing trip to the top of Purgatory Peak on Durango Mountain, Colorado.
This prize must be claimed in person at our heli-ski hangar in Denver, CO prior to Tuesday, November 27, 2012. Please note this offer is non-transferable.
(Purgatory Lodge and its associates are not responsible for any injuries, death, psychological torture at the hands of Darkseid or his minions, or lost or stolen items as a result of our heli-ski tours.)
“The 27th? But that’s tomorrow. Stupid UPS!” She hurried to her room and began packing and planning her use of the Zeta pads for her own personal getaway to Colorado for 24 hours.
“Adrenalineville, here I come!” she sang gleefully to herself as she tried to recall where she kept her designer crash helmet.
The cold Colorado wind was biting through Desaad’s disguise. But though he was miserable, he would never dare complain about it. His life was for Darkseid. His existence was only to serve his Master - and his Master had sent him here.
Desaad had carried out Darkseid’s plans. He had designed and built the device in the passenger compartment as his Lord had instructed. It was hidden beyond detection and ready to spring upon his prey.
Speaking of which…
Desaad looked across the open field and saw a young, blonde woman heading his way, smiling. She was wearing a bag over one shoulder and carrying a personalized helmet in the other hand. It was time. He was about to carry out Darkseid’s will - the only thing that made his miserable, inferior life worth living. ”It is time, Master” Desaad reported.
Darkseid did not give his servant the pleasure of a response…
Bette bounded up to the skinny helicopter pilot and gave a cheerful greeting, her skis bag strapped to the duffel over her shoulder. “Hi! I’m Bette Kane! I got this voucher in the mail for a free heli-ski and 1 night stay? I hope I’m not too late to claim it. Please say I’m not too late?” she batted her eyelashes for good measure as she presented the voucher.
He seemed an okay sort of guy, although the faint sulfurous odor was a little off-putting. Ah well, at least it wasn’t pot and his eyes weren’t bloodshot. She liked adrenaline and risk-taking, but going anywhere with a pilot who was high before he even left the ground was a mistake she didn’t intend to repeat. There was a reason she didn’t ski Whistler Mountain anymore…
Desaad attempted to smile at the friendly girl as he took the voucher, but his toothy grin came off more as an angry sneer than anything else. He never had any reason for anything else on Apokolips. But even he could see that his visage was off putting, so he nodded while quickly looking away and gestured with his thumb to the passenger compartment.
Darkseid’s trusted lieutenant started up the helicopter’s engine. The rotor blades started spinning overhead, gradually picking up speed. The young heroine climbed in and strapped herself into the jump seat. Desaad turned to see her, and pulled back on the steering stick, lifting the sleek whirlybird off the ground.
The great and powerful Darkseid’s plan was coming to fruition…
Bette couldn’t resist a squeal of delight as the ‘copter lifted off and took them high above Denver and towards the snow-capped peaks of dozens of ski mountains scattered throughout this area of the Rockies. “So how long before we get to Purgatory Peak?” she asked, but the pilot gave no reply. Maybe he wasn’t a chatty sort.
Or, of course, he couldn’t hear her over the sound of the rotors. She picked up the headphones and repeated, a bit more loudly, “So how long before we get to the Peak?”
Still nothing.
She examined the wire attaching the headphones, but could see no “on” switch. It escaped her notice that the pilot had side-eyed her and reached to the dash to flick the very switch she herself had been looking for, so she tried again, with a marked increase in volume: “SO HOW LONG BEFORE WE ARRIVE AT PURGATORY?” she hollared into the mic.
The helicopter shook and lurched as Desaad dropped the control stick to pull the headphones off of his still ringing ears. This so called “Flamebird” had quite the screech! After leveling his flight, Desaad responded “Two minutes!” before making a pointed effort to be noticed turning off the communicator.
The Master Torturer of Apokolips was many things, but he was not the chatty sort…
The helicopter rose and banked left, giving Desaad’s passenger the view of a lifetime. He flipped another switch and a digital sign lit up in the passenger compartment displaying this message:
Please unfasten seatbelt, strap on your skis, stand by the exit door, and prepare for a BOOMing good time!
Desaad was nearly giddy with anticipation of completing Darkseid’s evil instructions. His left cheek was twitching in anticipation…
Humph. What a grouch, she thought to herself, but she forgot about it as soon as the light came on. This is it!
Her heart rate was already increasing rapidly as she freed herself from the seat and slid her skis from their bag and tucked it into the small duffel. She shrugged it onto her shoulders, then strapped on the skis and helmet, and tapped the pilot on the shoulder to give him the customary thumbs-up.
One hand on the door handle, and she watched and waited for the signal.
This is just what I needed, to just take some time to get away from it all, and spend some quality time covering this mountain, she smiled to herself.
“Now…” Darkseid commanded over the helicopter’s comm.
“Yes, my Master” Desaad responded. It was now the moment he had been savoring since being given this mission. He pushed the button that put into effect Lord Darkseid’s plan.
As the passenger door slid open, an impenetrable iron sheet fell, blocking access to the pilot. From the right side of the door, another digital sign appeared bearing the words:
Darkseid sends his regards!
The helicopter dipped sharply, sending its passenger toward the exit. To the left of the door, a mechanical hand shot forth holding a large cream pie. It slapped the pie directly into Bette’s begoggled face. And finally, the coup de grâce - a large leg wearing a comically oversized boot slid out of a compartment directly behind her, kicking her in the posterior and out of the helicopter door.
Desaad pushed another button, opening a large boom tube directly in front of the flying machine and piloting it directly through to the dark skies of Apokolips. The last thing anyone looking up saw was a cackling helicopter pilot flying through to another dimension as a lone figure in skis fell towards the mountain below…
Darkseid? her mind flashed as the sign lit up, explaining the metal shield dropping. The ‘copter lurched to the side and she barely caught herself in the doorframe to keep from falling out, but with skiis on her feet and a duffel on her back she was too uncoordinated to do more than that.
The pie hit, blinding her to the comic appeal of the object that she felt hit her behind from, well, behind, and she experienced the terror of falling, unable to see the ground. Before she could utter a scream, she hit the snow face-down, her knees bent and skiis upraised and even with the slope; thank G-d, they had been low to the ground, and the powder was fresh and soft.
It was also slippery, and she felt herself slide a steep slope, her arms outstretched in terror to stop herself before she picked up speed and hit a tree, or worse, the edge of a cliff face. No one knows where I am. *I* don’t know where I am. The slope’s unmarked. If I’m injured, I could die up here!
She managed to lift her face, her goggles covered now with snow and not whipped cream (and from the taste it wasn’t even fresh, it was some cheap, aerated oil product) just to catch sight of a shadow and reach out for it. Her thick glove touched small branches, and she grabbed hold, the smell of pine filling her nostrils. Evergreen boughs whipped at her helmet, loud in her ears but welcome, as she took hold of some unseen branch and slowed her descent.
Collecting herself, she wiped her goggles clean and spat out the remaining fake “whipped cream”, then turned to gaze up the slope to see how far she’d fallen. A long, Bette-wide swath was cut into the powder about a hundred feet up; she’d been going slower than she’d realized, having no visual frame of reference. All in all, she’d come through it rather unscathed, she thought as she stood herself up, dusted off the snow front her front and checked her ski bindings. Even her poles had managed to stay with her thanks to the wrist-straps. She laughed with relief, and the giddy rush of adrenaline.
She gazed down the mountainside and guagued the rest of the terrain: a wide, steep, slope, untouched that day but most definitely used before by heli-skiiers, and hardly any trees to be seen; she’d been lucky to slide close to this one. At the end of this trail, there had to be civilization, and she just had to ski it. Too easy.
As she replaced her goggles, she felt, more than heard, a rumbling in the air and through her skiis. She barely spared a glanced uphill to confirm what she already knew, and her legs were already now reacting to: an avalanche.
Bette bolted down the hill from a stationary position like a mogul racer whose start signal had just sounded. The thought passed through her mind that the sheet of packed snow had dislodged from the mountaintop because of the boom tube she’d heard the helicopter activate. No moment could be lost now to spare another glance back at the roiling wall of snow rumbling behind her. Assume it’s gaining on you. Faster…MOVE FASTER!
She was going impossible speed, now, and any tiny error, or tumble, and she would be dead. Leaning left, sticking her right foot slightly forward, she managed a turn that slowed her only slightly, allowing her more control. The rumbling was deafening. She was seconds from being overtaken as she reached the thicker treeline of the mountain. You’re going to die. They won’t find you until late spring…if you’re lucky.
No. Not happening.
Swim ‘upstream’ …make yourself a pocket …spit to see which way is up …communicator in right pocket…
Trees. Deke left. Right. Leaning to far! TOO FAR! There. Straighten up. Left.
She didn’t look back, didn’t even think to. Couldn’t take her eyes off the way ahead of her even if she wanted to, there was hardly time to blink at the speeds she was going. She’d gone another very long, very intense, thirty seconds before she realized the death-heralding rumbling was reduced to only echoes now from other peaks and the forest around her. It was much longer than that before she was finally able to slow her her descent enough to skid to a stop on the mountainside, sending up a great cloud of powder before her, and look up the slope to confirm:
She’d made it.
Falling back deliberately to lay on the snow, she laughed, long and drunkenly. She was alive, and rejoicing in that very palpable relief that washed over her, the thrill of the moment still with her, her heart pounding like it could burst, pumping the endorphins and adrenaline through her.
Yes. This was exactly what she’d needed.
“Wait, so, let me get this straight….” Dick paced his apartment, undressing as he talked on the phone. ”You’re in Colorado, and you saw Darkseid?”
“No, I saw Darkseid’s minion. One of them, anyway.”
“In Colorado.”
“Yes.”
“Right. Right, why don’t I zeta there and pick you up, and you can fill me—” He paused as a message pinged on his phone. ”Hold on, someone’s… someone sent me something.”
He muted the call and opened the video, intrigued by the still preview frame. It looked like… “Bette?” He watched the video, eyes wide with a mix of horror and concern. He knew she was mostly all right, or he was sure she would’ve told him, but…
Oh god, she must have no idea this was out.
Switching on the sound, he started packing up a bag. ”Hey, y’know what? I’m gonna come out and meet you there. Why don’t we stay for a bit? I’ve got something you really need to see before… I’ve got something for you to see.”
Three minutes after they’d said goodbye, Dick was zetaing off to meet her.
She waited right where she called him from, right at the coordinates he said he’d zeta to meet her, but she still felt a bit odd. Yes, she was bruised up a bit over her body, and understandably shaken…she’d wrenched her left shoulder trying to stop her fall down the mountain, but she wasn’t really doing that poorly. It was sweet that he was concerned, though.
Still, if Dick said stay put and let him meet her, she wasn’t going to fight it. She was used to his leadership, and she trusted him as much now as she ever had in the Titans. Besides, if she could trust anyone in the League to be discrete about her little Colorado adventure, it was him. He wasn’t the type to embarrass her publicly. This whole mess could just remain between the two of them, and nothing more than a “sighting of one of Darkseid’s minions” need be reported to the League.
The air ten feet away from her, behind the high wall of stacked firewood for the lodge sparkled to life, and Dick Grayson stepped out of the light, not like some hero come to save a damsel in distress, but like the concerned friend she wanted and knew he was to her.
“Hey,” she greeted him, wearing a mildly chagrined expression on her face, and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear that had come loose from her ponytail. She left her duffel bag where she’s set them on the ground and crossed the distance to him quickly, and was so grateful when she got there that she didn’t need to spell it out to him that she could really use one of his hugs. “Thanks for coming, Dick,” she spoke muffled into his shoulder, a sense of safety now washing over her.
Dick wrapped his arms tight around her, rubbing her back as he spoke into her hair. ”You’re welcome, Bette. I’m glad you called.” He hugged her for a few moments more before pulling her back a bit to look her over for any signs of severe damage. Momentarily satisfied she wasn’t too terribly injured, Dick slung his bag across his back and wrapped a friendly arm around her shoulders. ”Why don’t we have some lunch or something, and you can tell me all about it?”
Once they were settled in with some hot food, Dick started up the questions again. ”And you’re sure nothing’s broken, right? You’re absolutely sure? Not too hurt or anything?”
“Just my pride,” she replied sheepishly over her dessert coffee. “My shoulder’s seen better days, and I’m bruised, but my helmet and ski suit took the worst of the fall from the helicopter and colliding with the evergreen boughs.” She reached across the table and laid a hand on his, “Thanks for caring, Dick. And for joining me, this is going to be fun, skiing up here. I always have so much more fun when skiing with a friend than alone.”
Bette looked out over the foot of slopes surrounding the lodge, and the view of this small section of the Rockies in the area. “Kate’s not expecting me home until late tomorrow. I really don’t want her to catch wind of what happened, so, no one needs to know right? I can report to the league seeing Darkseid’s underling, and leave it at that?”
Dick smiled, turning his hand to squeeze hers. ”I’m glad you called. As long as you’re sure you’re OK to ski…” He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him, and squeezed her hand once more before letting go.
Dick grimaced at her question, sucking air through his teeth as he tried to think of a response. ”Well… that’s kind of the other reason I came out here. You, uh, need to see something.”
He pulled out his phone and brought up the video message, muting the volume in case anyone walking by decided to be nosy. He smiled tightly and slid the phone to her, his fingers twisting together anxiously as he watched her reaction.
If it had been someone else, maybe anyone else, and part of an America’s Funniest Home Videos montage set to the chase theme music from The Benny Hill Show as performed by a kazoo orchestra, with appropriate crash and splat sound effects added in all the right places, it might have been amusing.
Bette watched in pure dread as saw herself on the film stumble forward on her skis with poles flying as they dangled from her wrists, to then get splatted in the face with a pie by a mechanical am, then booted in the rear by another contraption, only to be filmed landing face-first in the snow and sliding like that down the hill, her skis flailing above her. A few questions to Dick confirmed her worst fears.
“Everyone in the League? And the media, too?” She would never live this down. ”Oh, G-d…Dick, I’m a laughing stock! More than I already was before this! Is there any part of my life that isn’t open to total ridicule?”
Dick instinctively reached out for her hand, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. ”I called Oracle before I came here. She said she’d do some damage control, so that’ll help some. It’s… I didn’t want you to find out from somebody else.”
He squeezed her hand. ”You’re not a laughing stock. Anyone who’s hurting you, you tell me, and I’ll—” He cut himself off, still rubbing her hand. ”I don’t know if this is the place, but do you… Do you want to talk about anything? Anyone who’s been ridiculing you, this, anything?”
Bette stiffened slightly, very slightly pulling away more out of discomfort than from a desire to get away from him. Dick teethed his lip for a moment, then smiled and sat up a little straighter. ”Come on, let’s go get you set up in a room, alright? You were promised a free night’s stay, so let’s make sure you at least get that!”