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thejusticelounge2013-06-18 07:34 pm
bossymarmalade) wrote in thejusticelounge2013-06-18 07:34 pm
adventure time
“Plastic Man!” J’onn shouted. “You are getting too close to the fight! The power from those two beings are enough to wipe you from existence. Back away now.”
The Martian punched another button. “Huntress! Argent!” he shouted, his voice ragged. “Get those civilians to safety! We can clear rubble later.” J’onn turned back over his shoulder. “Zauriel. Was Blue Beetle able to put that fire out?”
“Yes!” the Angel answered. “Booster Gold is assisting him now! They seem to be working well together, all things considered.”
“We will make time for social hour later” J’onn said. “Right now, find someone to subdue those looters and get them out of the danger zone.”
“On it!” Zauriel shouted and turned back to his screen.
It wasn’t a fight so easily contained. Once the Sinestro Corps broke free and appeared on the Coast City skyline, it was hardly as if they needed to do much to the entire coastline, apart from sending waves of fear, horror and paranoia into the minds and hearts of the pathetic little Earthlings.
Zauriel barely had time to react, before Shining Knight’s steed was toppled by a crazed mob, and Sir Justin himself dragged away before Vigilante could stop it.
“A little help here would be nice, right ‘bout now!” Vigilante hailed into his comms, shooting at fire hydrant near the vicinity of the crowd, trying to confuse and spread them with the gush of water.
Above them, a Yellow Lantern that Zauriel didn’t recognize laughed, a sound more terrifying than the screams below, before it flew away at top speed.
“What was that?” Zauriel asked, panicking.
“Fear” J’onn answered. ”They spread fear. They prey on the fearful.” The Martian Manhunter walked over and put his hand on the Angel’s shoulder. ”Our forces should be able to minimize damage on a normal day when the populace is not under the influence of fear. But these are not normal circumstances. We need to put a stop to this yellow menace.”
J’onn grabbed a nearby tablet and began checking the available duty roster. ”We need someone on the ground that can help and can take the fight to these Sinestro Corps members if needs be. But it cannot just be anyone. It must be someone without fear, someone who is not susceptible to their manipulations. Someone who the people trust. Someone who will act without hesitation. It must be someone among us who is pure - pure of heart, pure of mind, pure… of… purpose… well, of course.”
The Martian picked up his commlink. ”Kal-El? Are you still here in the Watchtower? We need you in Coast City immediately.”
“On my way, J’onn.”
Zatanna and Marvel are nearby, having arrived on the Watchtower only moments before the summon for assistance. Clark gives them a look that makes it clear he’s not pleased with his son’s disobedience, or with his wife’s indulgence of the boy, for that matter. “Stay on the Tower, Billy,” he orders lowly as he turns from his family and departs in the direction of the zetapad. “And you can count on having a talk when I get back.”
Coast City is swarmed by chaos when Superman soars over its teeming streets, twisted hands and screams reaching up to him on a wind that smells of fire and ash. Rioters have begun to raze the city by now. Just like an unchecked flame, the panic is spreading, consuming everything it touches.
“I’m here,” Clark calls over the League’s channel. A frenzied crowd is running toward the ocean, sand flying around their feet, and Clark hovers over them, freezing the water for a perimeter of several miles. He descends among the mob while they skid across the ice, standing firm as those who manage to gain footing vent their fear and frustration by clawing and swinging at him. He gathers a sobbing teenager to his chest, holding him close to the shield emblazoned there while he pets the boy’s hair. “Do we have a plan, J’onn?”
“Of course we have a plan” J’onn replied into his communicator. ”You are Superman. Save lives.”
The Martian released the button and stood back, watching his teammates on the screens do what they do best. And it made him proud to be a part of something so wonderful. But it did not stop him from uttering a quiet prayer to H’ronmeer for Kyle.
Zauriel heard J’onn’s prayer - he hears all the League’s prayers. And he added his own. ”Give them strength Lord…”
The Angel turned back to his monitor screen. Superman was doing his best, as he always does. But even he couldn’t be everywhere at once. The fear-induced riots were spreading. Zauriel was about to send out another distress call when he saw the unruly mob look upwards. Two flashes of feathers flew through, cutting swaths through the crowd. Hawkman and Hawkgirl were there.
Situation: improving. The Angel watched then Hawks go to work.
And watched…
“Zauriel!” J’onn cried out. ”Quit staring at Hawkgirl’s posterior and focus on the job at hand! Has Shining Knight been rescued yet?”
“Uh, maybe?” Zauriel answered. The Martian’s stern glare let the Angel know the seriousness of the situation. ”I’m on it boss!” he said. Anyone not already engaged in battle, report to the nearest zeta transport. We need hand to hand fighters on the ground right now! Are there any Bats out there?”
“SUPERMAN!!!” A loud bellow came from above Clark, as a gigantic heap of alien mass crashed into the small of his back, sending the Man of Steel into a downward spiral.
“It’s been a while, but I am happy to be back in a place I remember so fondly…Have these humans not learned yet? I killed millions! Perhaps it is due for another visit to Coast City…from…
“MONGUL.” (pretend that is in a really fancy evil-looking comicbook font)
Mongul grabbed Supermans head, trying to twist it from his body as they plummented to the ground, threatening to completely obliterate the entertainment district of the city through their sheer force and might.
———-
From the Watchtower, it seemed as if the battle in the sky over Coast City was starting to blossom outwards, into the stratosphere and beyond.
Superman had managed to slow their descent, but changing their course was a different matter - at least it would lessen the damage, but they were still heading for Coast City’s entertainment district.
A streak of red moved up from the ground near the decimated Memorial Park, and suddenly a third body was there with them, bringing them to a stop just 100 metres above the crowds below. One muscular arm was wrapped around Mongul’s neck from behind, threatening to crush his larynx.
“Release Superman. NOW.” Captain Marvel tightened his herculean grip on the Sinestro Corps member’s neck, pulling the trio away from the city centre and towards the now lifeless ruins that were the Memorial Park.
Cement crumbles to dust as Superman is hurled through the remnants of a statue depicting the park’s primary benefactor. Clark seizes a fragment of the stone head and smashes it into Mongul’s skull as the creature surges toward him. Marvel remains in vigilant pursuit, ripping Mongul away before he can corner Superman again, and Clark reminds himself that he’d be grateful for the assistance of a hero with Marvel’s strength if circumstances were different.
If he were always Marvel, and not sometimes a little boy— Clark’s little boy. “Hold him!” Clark bellows as Marvel hammers Mongul to the ground. The paved terrace underfoot splinters as Superman smashes Mongul under the chin, the villain rebounding into Marvel’s chest where he keeps him pinned from behind. One of Marvel’s mighty fists— large, strong, not small and young, not Billy’s, not Billy— delivers the next crushing blow into the back of Mongul’s head, and the two heroes continue to pummel him between themselves in some twisted approximation of a backyard session of tossing a baseball back and forth.
When Mongul is strewn, broken and senseless, in the crater marking what remains of the park’s courtyard, Superman looks over at Captain Marvel with the intention of praising his intervention. But Marvel’s hopeful smile is too reminiscent of Billy’s to pretend they aren’t one and the same any longer, and Clark’s expression grows stern. He taps his ear to focus on the updates coming over the commlink. “The corps is retreating. You can help with what’s left of them,” he tells Marvel as he takes to the air, hovering momentarily. “We’ll talk later.”
This wasn’t right. Mongul had destroyed Coast City. He had reveled in it, in fact, especially in the way it had triggered the release of Parallax onto the universe, scourge and terror of all the worlds.
But then…after that he’d been beaten by Superman and Kyle Rayner, on this very coast. That was humiliating to say the least. Mongul had helped bring about the fall of the greatest Lantern, only to be bested by that rookie Lantern and the Kryptonian bastard?
And now, instead of the triumph he expected, he was beat not just by Superman a second time, but by some creature of mystic and magic who - though a little raw around the edges - nevertheless rivaled Superman’s own might.
It wasn’t fair. Mongul crawled, then flew up into the air, as he realized with dismay that Parallax was defeated. It wasn’t fair!
Eyeing both the Kryptonian and the magical creature, this…Captain Marvel - Mongul remembered today.
Hal Jordan. Kyle Rayner, Superman. Captain Marvel. Yes. They were all on Mongul’s list.
With a roar, he fled.
Marvel smiled at Superman, pleased with their teamwork. Surely, his father would feel the same? It was the first time they’d worked together since taking on Etrigan that one time, and now that he’d proven himself, maybe they-…
And then he caught Clark’s expression, stern and all business. Marvel felt the wind go out of his sails as Superman gave him another order, adding the foreboding promise that they would talk later.
“Yes, Sir.”
Sighing inwardly as he watched his father fly away, he took little solace in the fact that Clark had just granted him leave to help mop up what was left of the Sinestro Corps, unsupervised or coddled.
He sighed again to himself as he slammed two Sinestro Corpsmen’s heads together and then flung them one at a time out of Earth’s atmosphere. He knew he would be in big trouble with Mom and Dad when he got home…or to the Watchtower…or Queen’s Tower…or wherever he was supposed to go now.
Still, it didn’t matter what the consequences were that awaited him. His father was safe, Mongul was stopped, and the lives of dozens, possibly hundreds of innocent civilians in Coast City had been spared.
Captain Marvel had done his duty, done the Right Thing, and in the final analysis, that was what mattered the most.
The Martian punched another button. “Huntress! Argent!” he shouted, his voice ragged. “Get those civilians to safety! We can clear rubble later.” J’onn turned back over his shoulder. “Zauriel. Was Blue Beetle able to put that fire out?”
“Yes!” the Angel answered. “Booster Gold is assisting him now! They seem to be working well together, all things considered.”
“We will make time for social hour later” J’onn said. “Right now, find someone to subdue those looters and get them out of the danger zone.”
“On it!” Zauriel shouted and turned back to his screen.
It wasn’t a fight so easily contained. Once the Sinestro Corps broke free and appeared on the Coast City skyline, it was hardly as if they needed to do much to the entire coastline, apart from sending waves of fear, horror and paranoia into the minds and hearts of the pathetic little Earthlings.
Zauriel barely had time to react, before Shining Knight’s steed was toppled by a crazed mob, and Sir Justin himself dragged away before Vigilante could stop it.
“A little help here would be nice, right ‘bout now!” Vigilante hailed into his comms, shooting at fire hydrant near the vicinity of the crowd, trying to confuse and spread them with the gush of water.
Above them, a Yellow Lantern that Zauriel didn’t recognize laughed, a sound more terrifying than the screams below, before it flew away at top speed.
“What was that?” Zauriel asked, panicking.
“Fear” J’onn answered. ”They spread fear. They prey on the fearful.” The Martian Manhunter walked over and put his hand on the Angel’s shoulder. ”Our forces should be able to minimize damage on a normal day when the populace is not under the influence of fear. But these are not normal circumstances. We need to put a stop to this yellow menace.”
J’onn grabbed a nearby tablet and began checking the available duty roster. ”We need someone on the ground that can help and can take the fight to these Sinestro Corps members if needs be. But it cannot just be anyone. It must be someone without fear, someone who is not susceptible to their manipulations. Someone who the people trust. Someone who will act without hesitation. It must be someone among us who is pure - pure of heart, pure of mind, pure… of… purpose… well, of course.”
The Martian picked up his commlink. ”Kal-El? Are you still here in the Watchtower? We need you in Coast City immediately.”
“On my way, J’onn.”
Zatanna and Marvel are nearby, having arrived on the Watchtower only moments before the summon for assistance. Clark gives them a look that makes it clear he’s not pleased with his son’s disobedience, or with his wife’s indulgence of the boy, for that matter. “Stay on the Tower, Billy,” he orders lowly as he turns from his family and departs in the direction of the zetapad. “And you can count on having a talk when I get back.”
Coast City is swarmed by chaos when Superman soars over its teeming streets, twisted hands and screams reaching up to him on a wind that smells of fire and ash. Rioters have begun to raze the city by now. Just like an unchecked flame, the panic is spreading, consuming everything it touches.
“I’m here,” Clark calls over the League’s channel. A frenzied crowd is running toward the ocean, sand flying around their feet, and Clark hovers over them, freezing the water for a perimeter of several miles. He descends among the mob while they skid across the ice, standing firm as those who manage to gain footing vent their fear and frustration by clawing and swinging at him. He gathers a sobbing teenager to his chest, holding him close to the shield emblazoned there while he pets the boy’s hair. “Do we have a plan, J’onn?”
“Of course we have a plan” J’onn replied into his communicator. ”You are Superman. Save lives.”
The Martian released the button and stood back, watching his teammates on the screens do what they do best. And it made him proud to be a part of something so wonderful. But it did not stop him from uttering a quiet prayer to H’ronmeer for Kyle.
Zauriel heard J’onn’s prayer - he hears all the League’s prayers. And he added his own. ”Give them strength Lord…”
The Angel turned back to his monitor screen. Superman was doing his best, as he always does. But even he couldn’t be everywhere at once. The fear-induced riots were spreading. Zauriel was about to send out another distress call when he saw the unruly mob look upwards. Two flashes of feathers flew through, cutting swaths through the crowd. Hawkman and Hawkgirl were there.
Situation: improving. The Angel watched then Hawks go to work.
And watched…
“Zauriel!” J’onn cried out. ”Quit staring at Hawkgirl’s posterior and focus on the job at hand! Has Shining Knight been rescued yet?”
“Uh, maybe?” Zauriel answered. The Martian’s stern glare let the Angel know the seriousness of the situation. ”I’m on it boss!” he said. Anyone not already engaged in battle, report to the nearest zeta transport. We need hand to hand fighters on the ground right now! Are there any Bats out there?”
“SUPERMAN!!!” A loud bellow came from above Clark, as a gigantic heap of alien mass crashed into the small of his back, sending the Man of Steel into a downward spiral.
“It’s been a while, but I am happy to be back in a place I remember so fondly…Have these humans not learned yet? I killed millions! Perhaps it is due for another visit to Coast City…from…
“MONGUL.” (pretend that is in a really fancy evil-looking comicbook font)
Mongul grabbed Supermans head, trying to twist it from his body as they plummented to the ground, threatening to completely obliterate the entertainment district of the city through their sheer force and might.
———-
From the Watchtower, it seemed as if the battle in the sky over Coast City was starting to blossom outwards, into the stratosphere and beyond.
Superman had managed to slow their descent, but changing their course was a different matter - at least it would lessen the damage, but they were still heading for Coast City’s entertainment district.
A streak of red moved up from the ground near the decimated Memorial Park, and suddenly a third body was there with them, bringing them to a stop just 100 metres above the crowds below. One muscular arm was wrapped around Mongul’s neck from behind, threatening to crush his larynx.
“Release Superman. NOW.” Captain Marvel tightened his herculean grip on the Sinestro Corps member’s neck, pulling the trio away from the city centre and towards the now lifeless ruins that were the Memorial Park.
Cement crumbles to dust as Superman is hurled through the remnants of a statue depicting the park’s primary benefactor. Clark seizes a fragment of the stone head and smashes it into Mongul’s skull as the creature surges toward him. Marvel remains in vigilant pursuit, ripping Mongul away before he can corner Superman again, and Clark reminds himself that he’d be grateful for the assistance of a hero with Marvel’s strength if circumstances were different.
If he were always Marvel, and not sometimes a little boy— Clark’s little boy. “Hold him!” Clark bellows as Marvel hammers Mongul to the ground. The paved terrace underfoot splinters as Superman smashes Mongul under the chin, the villain rebounding into Marvel’s chest where he keeps him pinned from behind. One of Marvel’s mighty fists— large, strong, not small and young, not Billy’s, not Billy— delivers the next crushing blow into the back of Mongul’s head, and the two heroes continue to pummel him between themselves in some twisted approximation of a backyard session of tossing a baseball back and forth.
When Mongul is strewn, broken and senseless, in the crater marking what remains of the park’s courtyard, Superman looks over at Captain Marvel with the intention of praising his intervention. But Marvel’s hopeful smile is too reminiscent of Billy’s to pretend they aren’t one and the same any longer, and Clark’s expression grows stern. He taps his ear to focus on the updates coming over the commlink. “The corps is retreating. You can help with what’s left of them,” he tells Marvel as he takes to the air, hovering momentarily. “We’ll talk later.”
This wasn’t right. Mongul had destroyed Coast City. He had reveled in it, in fact, especially in the way it had triggered the release of Parallax onto the universe, scourge and terror of all the worlds.
But then…after that he’d been beaten by Superman and Kyle Rayner, on this very coast. That was humiliating to say the least. Mongul had helped bring about the fall of the greatest Lantern, only to be bested by that rookie Lantern and the Kryptonian bastard?
And now, instead of the triumph he expected, he was beat not just by Superman a second time, but by some creature of mystic and magic who - though a little raw around the edges - nevertheless rivaled Superman’s own might.
It wasn’t fair. Mongul crawled, then flew up into the air, as he realized with dismay that Parallax was defeated. It wasn’t fair!
Eyeing both the Kryptonian and the magical creature, this…Captain Marvel - Mongul remembered today.
Hal Jordan. Kyle Rayner, Superman. Captain Marvel. Yes. They were all on Mongul’s list.
With a roar, he fled.
Marvel smiled at Superman, pleased with their teamwork. Surely, his father would feel the same? It was the first time they’d worked together since taking on Etrigan that one time, and now that he’d proven himself, maybe they-…
And then he caught Clark’s expression, stern and all business. Marvel felt the wind go out of his sails as Superman gave him another order, adding the foreboding promise that they would talk later.
“Yes, Sir.”
Sighing inwardly as he watched his father fly away, he took little solace in the fact that Clark had just granted him leave to help mop up what was left of the Sinestro Corps, unsupervised or coddled.
He sighed again to himself as he slammed two Sinestro Corpsmen’s heads together and then flung them one at a time out of Earth’s atmosphere. He knew he would be in big trouble with Mom and Dad when he got home…or to the Watchtower…or Queen’s Tower…or wherever he was supposed to go now.
Still, it didn’t matter what the consequences were that awaited him. His father was safe, Mongul was stopped, and the lives of dozens, possibly hundreds of innocent civilians in Coast City had been spared.
Captain Marvel had done his duty, done the Right Thing, and in the final analysis, that was what mattered the most.