Superboy / Kon-El (
matchmadeinhell) wrote in
ya_assemble2015-05-12 10:19 pm
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"You have to start out learning to believe the little lies to believe the big ones."
They had to try their best to do this thing incognito. After all, the plan was get in, get the shard, get out, and while several of them were total unknowns in this world, three of them ran the risk of being recognized by some of the resident superheroes and supervillains since they were from a similar dimension and had equivalents here.
Nightwing, not so much since he usually wore a mask, but Cassie and Kon didn't wear masks as part of their costumes, and Kon especially wore a very familiar face. He was younger than Kal but still approaching adulthood now and that meant his cloney resemblance to the current de facto ruler of the world was pretty uncanny now.
That was why Kon was in disguise. He was wearing his usual jeans, black long-sleeved shirt, black boots, and black gloves. But he had a dumpy, shapeless, brown jacket over top of it all, a blue baseball cap, and a pair of dorky, large-framed glasses. Fortunately, spring was only just starting in this world and hadn't quite chased away the chill of winter so they could all bundle up with clothes that made them look innocuous.
The magical door had appeared in an alley, against a nondescript wall. As soon as they were all through and had closed it behind then, Kon peered around a corner to see if he could recognize where they were by the city's night-time skyline.
"Looks like Gotham." A pause. "It's hardly recognizable, though. I've never seen Gotham this clean."
He squinted instinctually, trying to peer around some more with his X-ray vision and found it working in full when he usually struggled with it back in the Guardians' universe. He held up his hand and poured on the teke, creating a field around it.
"My powers seem to be stronger here for some reason. The ones that are limited in the Guardians' universe are back, like my teke. You guys feeling the same? Most of us are superheroes or equivalents in our worlds. Being in a superhero universe might be amping up our powers or something. Maybe making the belief stronger."
It all ran on narratives, right? Stories? This was a story superheroes were supposed to be in.
Nightwing, not so much since he usually wore a mask, but Cassie and Kon didn't wear masks as part of their costumes, and Kon especially wore a very familiar face. He was younger than Kal but still approaching adulthood now and that meant his cloney resemblance to the current de facto ruler of the world was pretty uncanny now.
That was why Kon was in disguise. He was wearing his usual jeans, black long-sleeved shirt, black boots, and black gloves. But he had a dumpy, shapeless, brown jacket over top of it all, a blue baseball cap, and a pair of dorky, large-framed glasses. Fortunately, spring was only just starting in this world and hadn't quite chased away the chill of winter so they could all bundle up with clothes that made them look innocuous.
The magical door had appeared in an alley, against a nondescript wall. As soon as they were all through and had closed it behind then, Kon peered around a corner to see if he could recognize where they were by the city's night-time skyline.
"Looks like Gotham." A pause. "It's hardly recognizable, though. I've never seen Gotham this clean."
He squinted instinctually, trying to peer around some more with his X-ray vision and found it working in full when he usually struggled with it back in the Guardians' universe. He held up his hand and poured on the teke, creating a field around it.
"My powers seem to be stronger here for some reason. The ones that are limited in the Guardians' universe are back, like my teke. You guys feeling the same? Most of us are superheroes or equivalents in our worlds. Being in a superhero universe might be amping up our powers or something. Maybe making the belief stronger."
It all ran on narratives, right? Stories? This was a story superheroes were supposed to be in.
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Peter wondered if it was a bad sign that he fell so easily into bantering with the clearly completely insane jester lady. Probably not a good indication of his own mental sanity, really...
"But these people we're asking for help - can we be sure that they won't tip Mr Superdoom off if we can't convince them? Cause, like, I'd really prefer it if we didn't have him and his merry band of evil minions coming after us first. Even if we do have cheesecake."
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Then again, he never would have thought that Kal would have gone off the deep end like this, either. "The fact of the matter is, once we start moving, it isn't impossible that we're going to stumble across the other side. It's a fact of life, especially since we're likely to be hitting places and things that, if Kal's smart, he'll have watch on." And they couldn't guarantee that Kal wasn't smart.
"Blue Beetle...the Reyes kid, right?" Dick had only met the kid in passing, really, but he'd heard good things about him. "We'll send somebody to talk to him, see if we can't get him back in the game. As for magical back up for Haruto. I love you, Z, but we're going to need to pull in somebody else as well."
Dick had to pause, frowning. Constantine, he remembered from the comics, was in the wind. Not that he would have been Dick's first choice on the best of days. Most of the others were dead.
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That was one person covered at least.
Dick was right though, they definitely needed some more magical heavy hitters.
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"Unless you're a world-class sorcerer and keeping it under your hat -" She lifted up hers and yep, that was a rabbit on her head under it, briefly visible until she put her hat back down, "he's right."
In the grand scheme of it all, she knew her place. Compared to some mages and sorcerers - many of them now gone - she was hardly more than a hedge witch.
"There is one mage I know of that might be willing to help, but it's...risky, in more ways than one. And it'll be like getting blood from a stone - without magic, that is - to get him to help us."
She cast a nervous glance over at Bruce, knowing exactly how he was going to react to the suggestion.
"Timothy Hunter."
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Harley was rising out of her chair, two hands on the table with eyes bright and twinkling with mischief.
"Sorry B-man, but isn't unpredictable better in this case? They'll be expecting you to do things like Batman, but if you do something unexpected..."
Of course leave it to Harley Quinn to be in favor of the dangerous and unpredictable.
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"Can we at least hear about this guy before we make a decision about whether or not we try to bring him in on this?"
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It was enough to get him to quiet down and listen.
She turned to explain to the others, knowing that even Dick might not know much about who she was talking about.
"Timothy Hunter is a vastly powerful wizard. There are multiple prophecies that say he's destined to become the most powerful mage in the world. At the height of his power he's had the capacity to manipulate reality itself, usually during times he's accepted his sorcery as part of himself. Even at his lows, he's still more powerful than I am."
A pause.
"The problem is, when it's written in your destiny that you're supposed to become the most powerful magic-wielder of the age, in flaming magical letters fifty-feet high, that most people in the magical community can see, you get a lot of people trying to kill, use, or manipulate you. His mother died when he first manifested his powers and started to get targeted and three years back, before the disaster in Metropolis that sent Superman over the edge, his father was killed by one of his enemies..."
Another pause.
"...In one of those ways that makes it clear how creative magic can be."
In the worst way imaginable.
"He blames himself for it. He's renounced all magic and holed himself up in a pocket dimension of his own creation. He hasn't even aged since then. He only gave a few of us access to it, people he trusts. Myself, his ex-girlfriend Molly. Dr. Occult, when he was still alive." She rolled her eyes slightly (but maybe a little fondly). "Constantine, for some inexplicable reason. I think he gets lonely. I think I would be able to bring someone with me, though if I were to do that, he might cut me off."
She tilted her head to the side. "He's a good kid, at heart. Just a little lost."
If her previous words had made Bruce get quiet, those kept him quiet. He did seem to be seriously considering what she was saying.
"Bruce is right in that it wouldn't be a good idea to toss him in the thick of it, directly at Superman," she acknowledged. "Even though he could probably take him out in less than a blink, it would be far too dangerous. There are about seven different prophecies that suggest it'd be a bad idea to toss him at the current self-appointed king of the world. Moments like that are too fraught with fate and destiny and the potential of assumed power for magic users of his caliber. But he could potentially be useful keeping the Stormtroopers and Sinestro Corps off of us. They're not equipped to defend themselves against magic."
She shrugged.
"The only problem is that I've tried to get him involved in the world again, and asked for his help at times, and it's all fallen on deaf ears. He's really struggled with the guilt from the death of his father. But if at least one of us could get through to him..."
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"You're sure?" he asked Zatanna.
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"At worst, he'll just say no. But maybe if someone talks to him, someone that understands grief..." She raised her eyebrows at Bruce.
There were very few people in existence (especially now after he'd lost so many friends) that could get away with being that direct with Batman.
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"I'm not good with teenagers," he said flatly.
Completely and totally true. Despite the fact he'd raised and mentored a few, nevertheless, completely and totally true.
At the very least he seemed to have decided to trust Zatanna's judgment.
"Zatanna's already tried to talk to him and I doubt he'll trust any of us. He's already had people from our world trying to entangle him in conflict." He nodded towards the others. "It'll have to be one of you."
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For the rest of the discussion, he listened, but at the end of it, Haruto laughed quietly, in a sort of hollow, dry 'well how about that' manner. "Well, he's not the only one who lost their parents at a young age," he comments, then sighs. "Though my instance wasn't connected to my magic. However..." He folds one leg over the other, linking his hands together over his stomach. "Mine is connected to resisting falling into despair. Maybe I could be of some help, there."
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Next to her, Batman nodded a subtle little nod, making it clear that, though he hoped they could get Hunter on their side, Zatanna wasn't the only one that thought it'd be good to for someone to speak to a lonely, lost orphan for his own good.
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There were still other Leaguers to go over but they'd struck off on a tangent and had gotten pretty productive while on it. So far the newcomers had contributed a lot.
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Partly because it was something that could possibly even kill him.
"I know this is basically the 'nuke it from orbit, it's the only way to be sure' option here, but this might get...bad. And we might need a nuclear option in case it all goes to hell." What he was about to suggest wasn't an option to take lightly. "Jim Corrigan's in Arkham, right? Insane and bound by a magic cast by Mister Mxyzptlk."
Try saying that five times fast, non-DC universe people.
"And old Mxy didn't do anything to the Spectre, just locked him inside and made his host nuts while he pretended to be the Spectre, right?"
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It was supposed to be something even beyond it.
"So then we go higher than Doctor Fate, we go higher than Tim Hunter, we go with something magic that's supposed to be attached to the Big Man himself."
Kon jerked a thumb at the ceiling, implying which Big Man he meant.
"Because if it's imbued with that kind of power it can probably free a being made of that power."
A power above all magic, because that power was (supposedly) what had shaped all of existence.
"The Spear of Destiny. If we can find it."
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Mention of the Specter, though, makes him sit up straighter, looking to Kon. "That's one hell of a nuclear option there, Kon."
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"The Specter is the Spirit of god's vengeance here on Earth! A cosmic entity! And not just any ole god like Zeus or Buddha or Princess Celestia, I mean the big guy! Morgan Freeman in spiritual form."
Diving for the keyboard she started tapping buttons till she got the pictures she wanted of the aforementioned specter, practically in Batwoman's lap while she did so because Harley Quinn is not big on personal space.
"He's supposed ta use his incredible divine powers to punish the truly wicked, usually ending his victim's lives in creative and ironic ways." Here she gestured to some rather gruesome and graphic images of the specter laying waste to men who presumably had done terrible things. Some were aged till they were nothing but bones, others were crushed with his hands as he grew into a giant to smite them.
"Heavy magic! Like big leagues. Plenty of crooks back in the day used to think he was a myth that people talked about to scare each other into going straight...but then again people used to say the same thing about you-know-who~"
Here she fluttered her eyelashes at Batman and blew him a kiss.
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"Which is where we run into the first part of the problem. The Spear can be used to free the Spectre and he can use his own power to fix Corrigan, but..." He leaned forward, looking at them each. "It'll get messy. Even with Corrigan's judgment to reign him in, there's going to be a lot of deaths. Not just of Superman and most of his Justice League, but a lot of people around them. And it might not be people who have killed innocents but anybody who has killed somebody else." And with that, he glanced toward Batman before turning back to the others.
He reached over, silently asking for the keyboard to pull up some pictures. "The other half of the problem is what we need to do it." He managed to bring up a picture of Adolf Hitler holding an ancient spear. "The Spear of Destiny, also known as the Lance or Spear of Longinus. It's the spear that was used to pierce the side of Christ to check that he was dead on the cross. During World War II, it came into the possession of Hitler, who used it to prevent American superhumans of the time from interfering. Before the Spectre at the time was able to take it away, Hitler managed a ritual that's basically cursed the Spear. It'll corrupt those who holds it with that same sort of megalomaniacal madness."
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"Is it just touch the spear, turn into a Hitler clone? With the mustache, goose-stepping, failed art career, and everything else it implies. Or is it a little more subtle than that?"
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