It all started as a game. Cosmic Entities wanting to create the ultimate show. So they merged the Marvel and DC universes to see who was best. But it didn't quite work out that way and they lived in peace. Until the kabal of Circe, Dormammu, Darkseid and Thanos teamed up. Heroes and villains alike came together to stop them. When they were done the kabal was defeated but over half of NYC was destroyed and the heroes and villains who opposed them were left maimed and/or insane from the war. The rest were simply dead, along with millions. Now the next generation is nearly forced to step up, trying to save the world.
Apocalypse has arrived with his Horsemen and army. Titan Tower, Jean Grey Academy, Central City, Keystone City and more have fallen. Thousands, if not Millions of humans have been killed by the Plague. Human/Mutant relations are at their lowest in 15 years. SHIELD has been crippled by all the attacks and heroes are falling. Help may be coming though! CURRENTLY LOOKING FOR A MODERATOR. PM JJ GRAYSON IF INTERESTED! ALL CREDIT FOR CODING AND SKIN WORK GOES TO CHUCK
Post by Walter West on Dec 31, 2015 0:52:00 GMT -6
Walt sat in grey track pants and a hoodie over a plain yellow shirt in a cafe nearby where the Tower flew a few hundred yards above. The man sitting across from him had seen his face for the first time only minutes before when he entered the building. He thought he was meeting the Flash, and so he was, but the young man man now explaining his plan to the older did not seem at all related to the Scarlet Speedster with whom the latter was already acquainted.
"It should be ready by now. Superboy said it would be ready by now." His voice was almost completely devoid of emotion. The week that had passed since Marty went missing had been an eternity to the speedster. The powerlessness he felt at not being able to reclaim his best friend from the dimensional breach was far worse.
Walt's arms and hands were laid out on the table. His posture matched his voice. Rather than hopeless, Walt felt nothing. Even his usual impatience, usually a sense of energy and comfort, had left him a few days after the Invaders had been defeated. With Marty still missing, Walt had burned himself out.
"So... I'll take you to it. We'll bring whoever we have. You'll get to meet my friends." Usually this line would have been delivered along with a massive, goofy smile and an obvious sense of excitement. Instead, it was merely ticked off the itinerary in a depressed tone of voice.
"And then..." Walt's voice changed. He was completely motionless for a few seconds, before releasing into a vibration so rapid that those who seen it would have guessed, in the confused half-second before they blinked to clear their eyes, that he was about to erupt.
When Walt stopped shuddering, his tone was flat, clipped, confident.
Post by Helen Danvers on Jan 11, 2016 12:50:08 GMT -6
The past week had felt like an eternity. Spending a year in hell was nothing compared to the past week of sleepless nights, plagued by nightmares and waking daydreams of what had happened. Lydia's mind was a minefield of terrors whether she was asleep or awake, worrying about Marty. The only reason she even knew he was alive was Zoey, who had personally checked the underworld for him. So she was both hopeful and absolutely terrified for Marty. That self sacrificing asshole. Yes, she was borrowing a swear word from her brother for once. There was more than a few burn marks on her bedroom walls at the tower from trying to sleep and waking up from memories of her time in captivity. They'd used images and mind manipulation to try and break her and nothing had been as effective as watching that stupid jerk try and save her and fail horribly, always dying, always leaving her awake at night screaming.
So when Jor said he could help, she had practically sank to the floor with relief. He was alive, and now he was not going to be stuck in some backwards twisted parallel universe. She just had to wait for Jor to finish. And waiting was hard. And she knew if it was hard for her, it was damn near impossible for Marty's best friend.
She teleported down to the street below the tower, not trusting her powers lately, and headed toward the little cafe Walt said to meet at. She had taken to wearing yoga pants and one of Marty's old shirts she'd swiped out of the laundry. Sunglasses hid her tired, rather bloodshot eyes as she wandered over to Walt, her hair a giant mess of a bun on top of her head. Walt was already sitting with someone she did not recognize, and his normal vibrating posture was slack, devoid of it's usual energy. She didn't question that though, she understood it, all too well. Marty was stuck, and Walt would do anything to get him back. So would she. But still, alarm bells went off in her head at this unknown third party.
Lydia caught Walt's small, perhaps hopeful release of energy as she walked up behind him, slipping her arms around him in a tight hug, trying not crush him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "That's right, we'll get him back. We'll punch a hole in the damn universe if we have to, but we'll get him back." She sat down next to him, leaving her sunglasses on for the moment. Walt's behavior, what little she'd seen of it (she, admittedly, had been a bit too preoccupied to pay attention to him. A fact she was not proud of), had been troubling. But she chalked it up to worry, for Marty, for his friends, his team, his family. But mostly for Marty. So she let it slide. And she really didn't think he'd listen to her anyway.
"So, who's your friend?" She looked at the man, her expression turning hard, sudden and protective instincts for Walt kicking in.
Post by Owen Merlowe on Jan 11, 2016 14:34:26 GMT -6
Against his better judgement, Owen was in San Francisco, hanging out at a cafe with the Flash of all people. He told himself that he was here for only the money, but Dinah genuinely cared about these kids and the Flash wasn't terrible. Owen looked up from his newspaper, sunglasses still covering his eyes.
"Yep. Nothing I want more than to waltz into a headquarters of a hero group. It's up there with having a hole blown in my face. I already have more than enough." Owen had insisted 8 times that he wasn't interested in doing anything related to cosmic things. The Flash was very persuasive, to say the least. He kept reminding himself that the Flash was supposed to be a hero, but that was getting fuzzier every time he spoke to the scarlet speedster. It was getting to the point where Owen needed a score card and a marker board to keep up.
At some point, Owen was going to bring up the subject of Mallory Mardon and find out the Flash's intentions towards her. But instead a blonde in yoga pants and a t shirt walked up. Owen's gear was stowed beneath his clothes and jacket, his eyes covered by sunglasses. He smiled at Lydia. Judging by the way this day was going, she was probably a human time bomb and he was going to die a horrible death. Because why not?
"I'm a friend. I've been enlisted to assist by Walter. My name is John. Nice to meet you."
Post by Walter West on Jan 12, 2016 2:22:28 GMT -6
Lydia's tight hug reminded Walt of her existence- of the existence of anyone, in fact, besides Marty, of course, and Jor and Owen, whom he needed to retrieve the Lantern. Ordinarily, he would have enveloped the girl in a worthier embrace, wrapping her in a bear hug, vibrating shortly and rapidly as he did so in the way that always made her giggle.
This time, he couldn't even smile. He tried lifting a hand to hold one of the arms she had wrapped around him only to find, at first, that he couldn't do that either. But after a second, he lifted one hand off the table and placed it on Lydia's arm in a slow, robotic motion.
"Yeah, we'll get him back." We will. We'll get him back. Walt's words were as empty and loose as his thoughts.
He, Marty, and Lydia playing hide-and-seek as kids, Walt dashing from hiding place to hiding place, Lydia laughing and calling him a cheater before her brother called them for lunch.
Marty's expression upon coming home on his fifteenth birthday to find Walt wearing a chef's hat, eating a fat slice of the cake, complete with ornamental airplane at the top, that he had baked on his own. Walt had had his mouth full, and he had put on his best "guilty" face. Marty had laughed for what seemed like hours.
Walt recovered gradually from his daydream. It had only lasted a fraction of a second. He was still staring at the ground expressionlessly as he heard Owen lie about who he was.
His name is Owen. He's a smuggler. Hitman. He's got a flat in Gotham. Has a soft spot for kids. Took a few under his wing, takes care of 'em. He's good.
Walt would've spoken all this- thought, for a moment, that he did- but then he was dreaming again. This time it was he and the Green Lantern at the docks in Coast City, laughing and bantering as they fought side by side to keep the streets safe.
"He's okay, Lydia," Walt said miserably. His eyes didn't leave the ground.
The device hummed softly. Jor had spent the better part of the morning working on the calibrations. The device was finished last night and thanks to some "borrowed" sensor readings from the Avengers and the Justice League, Jor was able to get the vibrational frequency of the invaders dimension from their cells. The idea behind the device was simple. The vest would harness the Flash's vibrations and move Walter and a small group of two into another universe. The device would help him match the target's frequency, so they could end up in the right spot.
It was a crude idea based on Kryptonian scientific theories and built with a combination of Earth and Kryptonian tech. The final piece of the puzzle was the frequency. Now that Jor had that, it was a simple matter of programming two into the vest. Theirs and this universes. It would draw on Walter's speed force energy and the vest and Flash would do the work and move them. He tapped a few switches and recorded the information on a crystal chip. This would be the last piece. The only other step was to have Walter step into it and test the final calibrations. Jor didn't want anyone stranded once they got to the other side.
He pushed some more of the medical supplies and tool kit into his messenger bag. After careful consideration, Jor had decided to accompany the duo on their journey. He could serve as medic and mechanic since they had no idea what condition Martin Jordan was in. Jor hadn't actually asked Lydia and Walter if they would permit him to come along, but he was very sure he was going anyway. Whether they were okay with it or not. That was his job now.
A few taps of the console and a channel opened. "Walter, Lydia. The device is operational. I need to make the final adjustments to the harness with Walter here. Please return to the Tower."
Post by Helen Danvers on Jan 14, 2016 20:26:09 GMT -6
"Hello, John. Lydia, as Walter already said," she said flatly, holding out her hand for a handshake (and may have put a little of her strength into it as a warning). She looked him over behind her sunglasses thinking he didn't look too friendly. She wondered just what the heck he could assist with that she or Jor could not. She did not trust him.
Her leg started to bounce a bit with some agitation as she looked around the small café before back to her two companions. No, this didn't look conspicuous at all. She jumped slightly when Jor told them everything was ready except last minute calibration.
"He's not coming." she looked at Walt as she stood up. She looked at John. "You're not coming. We'll come get you." Walt wanted him to come along for the mission? Fine. That was fine. He wanted to let him see them without masks and know they were heroes. Sure, she could just deal with that. But she drew the line at letting strangers into the Tower.
"We'll be right there, Jor." she said into her comm. Then she looked back at Walt, just in case he wanted to protest. "I'll stay here with him, if you want. But I'm not giving him access."
Post by Owen Merlowe on Jan 16, 2016 13:18:42 GMT -6
"Nice to meet you, Lydia." Owen took her hand and gave it a squeeze. The diminutive blonde had a stronger handshake than he'd anticipated. Super strength, if he had to guess. Owen let her crush his hand a little, but didn't show any sign of pain on his face. Let her draw her own conclusions. "Quite a handshake you've got there." He tried to make the comment sound flippant. His hand throbbed like hell, but he wouldn't let her know that. He'd gotten used to ignoring the pain signals his body sent.
Once Lydia started talking to Flash about things, Owen swiftly realized that she was either in charge or she didn't take no for an answer and was used to that. Her objections over Owen entering the Tower made him laugh. It wasn't like he hadn't been there before. He shrugged. "Whatever you say. I don't really want to be in your clubhouse again anyway. Last time, I almost got murdered by a doppelganger."
Owen made no protests. He was on the clock anyway. He gestured to the Titans with a sweeping motion with his hands, before picking up his newspaper and going back to reading the sports section. "I'll be here. Want to see who's looking good for the playoffs. The Metropolis Marvels are playing the Coast City Angels tonight."
Post by Walter West on Jan 17, 2016 0:05:36 GMT -6
Walt looked up at Lydia with an empty gaze, compounded by the black rings under his eyes, for several seconds. Then he moved to get up.
"Stay here." He spoke to Lydia and Owen both, without meeting either of their eyes.
Wonder how they'll get along. Walt put his hands in his sweatshirt's pockets and moved towards the exit.
You know goddamn well how they will.
Walt wandered at a lazy pace (a depressing pace, for him) to the base of the Tower, and looked up at the floating fortress. Normally he spent a part of each day concocting new, exciting ways to make it up there with his super-speed. His favorite time had been when Marty had constructed a ramp with his ring. Walt had run up and off the ramp, making it about halfway up to the Tower. Then Marty had projected a series of temporary, floating walls for Walt to jump between, until he finally made it up to the platform, whooping victoriously and throwing his fists in the air.
This time, he merely teleported.
He slouched down the main hall to the elevator. As the lift (which Walt hated for moving too slow) moved down to the lab, Walt sighed.
This is it, he thought. Little more. He's right there. Right on the other side of this.
The doors slid open, and there was Jor by the machine. Walt strode slowly in, hands still tucked in his pockets. His eyes were on the floor. He made his way to the harness, suspended by metal arms beside the Kryptonian, and turned so that he was facing the elevator. He raised his arms.
As Walter West wandered into Jor's lab, the Kryptonian scientist examined the Scarlet Speedster with his telescopic vision. Walter's physical state showed that his body was sleep and nutrient deprived as well as chemically imbalanced by depression. This was evident by his lack of energy when walking in. The Kryptonian walked over and clipped the harness on to Walt, adjusting a few dials and slotting the control crystal into the slot and closing it.
Leads from Jor's tablet were connected as tapped the screen and ran some quick tests. "Walter, as your friend and physician, I am concerned for your well being. Physically and emotionally. I know that helping recover Martin Jordan will help with this, but I believe that you should seek some sort of counseling. I know that there is a stigma among your people about it, but if talking to a friend makes you feel better, I would like you to know that I am trained in dozens of therapy techniques, both human and Kryptonian." He placed a hand on Walter's shoulder. "I am here for you."
A moment went by and the tablet beeped. "The device is functioning normally. It draws on your speed force energy and then harnesses it to match your vibrations to the other universe via frequencies stored on that memory crystal. That will allow us to travel there and back." The Teen of Steel tapped a few more buttons. "I understand that you've brought another person along, from your conversation with Lydia. I do not advise bringing him along with us. I have to calibrate the field properly and if there are too many people the strain could harm you and damage the device. The more people we bring along, the more energy it takes." Jor remembered Owen from the time he helped free the Titans, but this look was more out of concern for Walt's health than anything else.
Post by Helen Danvers on Jan 17, 2016 1:41:30 GMT -6
Lydia twitched at the world. Doppleganger. She crossed her arms testily, avoiding holding anything in her hands as her fingers flexed over her biceps. Dopplegangers where the whole reason they were in this mess, and the whole reason she was...agitated. She shifted in her seat, watching Walt get up and feeling just a little guilty. She'd been ready to argue about his new friend. Heck, she'd been expecting it. But Then Walt had just got up and left, telling them both to stay there. She leaned forward, dropping her arms on the table followed by her head and groaned. Everything was a mess. Walter was slow. She was angry. And Marty was missing. All because of those stupid dopplegangers.
She turned her head back to John, sitting back up and looking at him a bit. She tried not to buckle the table at his statement about being in the tower before. That agitated her more than just a bit. She got that there was a lot that went on when they came to rescue them. But still, he had been in there. Walt had to have let him in there and she was more than a bit bothered by the idea. That someone she didn't know, didn't trust and hadn't been vetted, had been in her home.
"Angles take it." She said, resting her chin in her palm, looking randomly about the cafe. Her fingers started to tap randomly against her cheek before she looked back at John, waiting for Walt to get back, or give a signal they were ready. "You. I don't really know you. But Walt seems to trust you. I don't. But he does. So, when we're over there, I will watch your back. Just like I'd do for any of my team. Don't make me regret it....please."
Post by Owen Merlowe on Jan 17, 2016 2:15:29 GMT -6
The tension in the air was palpable. Owen watched Walter leave and Lydia put her head on the table. He could sense the anger coming off of her. He'd been in this situation more than once. As the Red Hood he'd dealt with his share of angry women. Without looking up from his newspaper, he calmly slid one of his muffins over to her. "Eat. There will be plenty of time for anger later. You don't know when you'll get a meal next."
Owen's eyes scanned the stats. "I don't know. The Marvels look pretty good this year. I'm not sure if they'd make it. It would make for a good series with the Knights in the playoffs. Loser goes against Central City for the Wildcard. Going to be interesting." He'd make sports talk with her. She probably didn't care in the least. For all he knew, Lydia might even be trying to get a rise out of him.
His eyes didn't leave the paper, but his voice took on an even tone. "Little girl, I want you to understand something: I'm not a nice person. I am being paid very well for this mission. But more importantly, your team means something to someone I hold in very high regard. She's a far better person than I will ever be. It means the world that your team survives, so I'm going to do everything I can to rescue your boyfriend, because I'm an idiot. Though I'm not sure which of you two is even dating him at this point. Or maybe you're sharing, I don't know or care. Brave new world. We are not enemies. Nor have we reason to be enemies. As long as you give me no reasons not to, I'll watch your back."
Post by Walter West on Jan 17, 2016 2:42:47 GMT -6
Walt heard Jor's words, heard his concern, in the same detached sense that he heard everything around him. On feeling Walt's hand on his shoulder, he tried to smile. Failed.
"Thanks, Jor." His voice was cracked, tired, small. He lifted his head, looking straight ahead at first. After about ten seconds, he turned slowly to look at Jor. When he spoke next, it was without any emotion, and his voice limped, as though the energy expended with every word was the basis of a brutal internal struggle.
"You are a good friend to me, Jor. I know that you know that we need to get Marty back. That's why we're bringing John. I trust him. I trust all of you. I know that you're good. But it's about Marty. So we're all going, and we're coming back with him. But if I..." Walt choked silently on his words without breaking gaze with Jor.
If you what, Walt? If it kills you just to make it over there? If you have to make the choice between Owen or Lydia and Marty? If you have to step over the friend in front of you to save him? If you have to hurt one of the others? Not like you have a problem with that, right? Not since he left. Walt shook his head slightly. Slowly.
He didn't leave, asshole.
He was taken.
He started again slowly after a crawling, shuddering breath. "We just have to get him back, okay? Don't worry about me, or the machine, or John. I will handle it. Is it ready?"
The remaining calculations were done in silence. Jor understood Walter's reactions. He'd been spending enough time with humanity to understand the internal struggle that Flash was facing. There was a simple answer to this problem. Jor finished the adjustments and then activated the interface on his tablet. The small Kryptonian device transcribed his thoughts directly into a message that would be activated by Zoey, upon her touching the tablet. It wasn't much. An accounting of things. A final goodbye and an attempt to sum up her importance to him and some final instructions. Though he was not worried about a thing like death, he knew from experience that leaving with no goodbye would be far worse if he didn't come back.
A slight flash of light occurred as Jor created a sunstone crystal to his specifications and put it inside his pouch with the first aid supplies. "Yes, we will retrieve Martin Jordan. I have finished all the adjustments. The device is fully functional and ready to go." Jor paused as if there was something else. "Walter, you are my friend and I wish to be candid with you. May I tell you something in confidence?"
Jor looked very nervous. "My powers are fluctuating. They have been since I was captured. I should be able to keep up with you, but they are diminished from what they were. I am not nearly as close to Superman's levels as I would like to be. My estimations show that I will not be a liability to the team. I am telling you this, because you are the leader of this ad hoc team and one of my close friends. I have not spoken of this to anyone and I would prefer you kept it a secret from Lydia or Zoey, unless they absolutely must know." He paused. "I don't wish to be, I believe the term is benched from the active roster. And both of them would do that in a speed, which would make even you blink."
Post by Helen Danvers on Jan 17, 2016 17:01:30 GMT -6
Lydia eyed the muffin suspiciously before reaching over and slowly bringing it to her. He said to eat because she wouldn't know when her next meal would be. And while that reminded her of James, just a little, and endeared him to her just a tiny bit, she had to actually think about when the last time she ate was. She couldn't remember. So while she was not hungry, the farthest thing from it in fact, she nibbled at the muffin and listened to him talk, trying to be amiable.
It was in her nature to be friendly, to give people a chance. And she hadn't exactly given him a fair one. So she decided to try for Walt, for the mission. And she wasn't a complete airhead with sports. Thanks to Marty getting her hooked on Angels games, she had a few opinions.
“Nah. Marvels always look good this time of year. Then they choke on a big fat one in the first round because they push too hard mid season and haven't learned to play the long game. I think Knights and Angels. All the way to seven. Angels take it.” She fell back into silent eating mode, picking at the muffin more than eating it. She stared at the newspaper in his hands, the words blurring together as she focused on nothing. Then he started speaking again and the top of her head felt like it was on fire with his first two words. Her grip on the table made it buckle just a little, leaving a small, hand sized dent. The sound snapped her back as she had to remind herself not to make a scene.
“One, don't ever call me little girl. The fact that I can crush you with a mac truck and not break a sweat is besides the point. I'm young, sure, but I'm not a ‘little girl’. Two. Marty is one of my oldest friends. Probably not something you have being a not nice person. There is no dating. I just want my best friend back. And I won't argue that you're an idiot. If you can remember these two points, I think we can get along. And your friend who you hold in ‘high regard’ will give you a nice pat on the back or a thank you or something for dealing with this crazy mission. Because yes, this is crazy. And you get to come along. And I'll get you back in one piece.” she took a large bite out of the muffin to keep from saying anything else as there were lots of words swimming around in her head.
Post by Owen Merlowe on Feb 5, 2016 17:39:24 GMT -6
The point about the Marvels was well taken. Owen made a note to listen to her on the baseball talk. It seemed like she knew what she was talking about. He gave a wry smile behind his newspaper. The sound of metal bending did get him to raise an eyebrow, but it wasn't concerned. He listened quietly to her rant as he continued reading his paper and pretending not to pay attention. It was an interesting study in people. Owen always liked to get people angry. Then you get to see who the real person is and how they work. There were certain tones of denial in the things she was saying. It made his smile broader. Then he did the only thing that he could have.
Red Hood laughed behind his newspaper. It was an honest sound, no sound of condescension in it at all. "I like you. I think we'll get along just fine. And you seem to root for underdogs in baseball, which I find refreshing." He could have said a lot of things about the girl, but he had to respect her attitude. She radiated a "stand in my way and I'll make it look like an accident" kind of vibe. It amused Owen greatly. "Just two quick things."
"One, I've recently been beaten up by the Hulk and lived through it. So, while I respect the effort and I'm sure you could do much worse, I think we can skip that part. I'll just stick to calling you Captain, as that is your title, last I looked. And thing two, I don't really intend on telling her about my involvement here. So if you're asked, I was not part of your little cover mission to another universe. I have a reputation to uphold and helping a group of cub scouts find their missing troop member is going to ruin it. Savvy?"