Monday morning seemed rather bright.
It was about 10:00 AM, and the hallways of Metropolis High were filled with students in-between classes. As Diana walked up to her locker, she took a moment to look down the hallway to her left, taking in the rays of morning sunshine that swept in from the glass-walled front entrance to the school. She missed the constant sunshine of her island, and made sure to soak in as much of it as she could while living in the city.
As she turned back to her locker, she noticed Bart standing to her right, practically hiding in her shadow. He looked a little embarrassed, and more than a little uncomfortable. He kept his eyes on the floor, as though he didn't have the will to look her in the eye.
"Bart? Are you okay?" Diana asked.
"Yeah, um, I'm okay."
He took a silent deep breath and swallowed. "So... thanks, for yesterday. For not telling Bruce that I... that I lied."
Diana frowned concernedly at him. "Why did you lie to him?"
Bart winced a little at her question. "If I told you, it might be... really bad."
Diana gently put her hand under his chin and lifted his head up to look at her, giving him a genuinely caring smile. "Hey, you can tell me anything, alright?"
Bart blushed a little, and couldn't help but smile a little bit back at her. "Thanks."
He took a step backward out of embarrassment, and slipped back into his shameful persona. "But it's not that I don't trust you... it's just..."
Bart stopped in mid-sentence as he glanced down the hallway behind Diana, his eyes going wide with horror.
Diana instantly spun around to see what Bart was looking at, but saw nothing of out of the ordinary. Confused, she turned back to Bart, but he was gone.
Clark and Lois walked up to her. "Hey," Clark said, "was Bart here? I thought I heard him over here a second ago."
Diana, still looking down the hallway where Bart had once stood, took only a quick glance over to meet Clark and Lois's gaze. "Yeah, a second ago he was here. Then he ran after he saw something over—" she turned to look back down the hallway where Bart had been looking, but froze in mid-sentence.
Two young men, about sixteen years old, walked down the hallway, side-by-side. One was blonde, about 5'10'', and walked with the same gentle-yet-purposeful attitude that Clark did. He seemed very physically fit, somewhat like a baseball player.
The other boy was the same height, but brown-haired and far less proper. He was stereotypically handsome, like a 50s-era movie star. He walked with a somewhat arrogant swagger, carrying a brown bomber jacket over his shoulder.
As Diana saw the second boy, her eyes went wide with surprise before quickly squinting in anger. "YOU!" she yelled, stomping her booted feet as she walked towards him.
Lois and Clark, utterly confused, stood off to the side of the hall and watched the scene.
The dark-haired boy looked at Diana, and nearly jumped back in surprise. "Diana?!... What are you doing here?"
"Me?! What are YOU doing here?!"
The boy was obviously caught off-guard. His companion stood to the side, smirking at his friend's self-imposed misfortune. "I... go to school here now," the brown-haired boy awkwardly responded. Diana was relentless in her anger. "And WHY is that? Not enough girls in Coast City for you? You had to migrate to 'new fields?'"
Lois couldn't help but admire Diana's clever insult.
The boy hung his head a bit, and spoke gently. "Diana... I'm sorry..."
Diana wouldn't hear any of it. "Save it," she said, her words laced with a tinge of verbal venom. She turned and stormed away, leaving everyone else behind.
The boy sighed heavily, and leaned his head back in frustration.
The blonde boy humorously put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Nice job there, buddy."
Lois and Clark looked at one another with puzzled expressions, then walked over to the two newcomers. Lois was the first to speak. "So what'd you do to her, exactly?"
The brown-haired one responded with more than a hint of frustrated humor. "I'm her ex-boyfriend."
Clark and Lois both tilted their heads slightly backwards in an "Ah, so that's it" expression.
"Yeah... I think she mentioned you once or twice. So you're from Coast City?" Lois asked.
"Yeah. 'Name's Hal Jordan," he said, politely holding his hand out to her.
Lois just stared down at his hand, then raised an eyebrow as she looked back up at him. "Um... I'm on her side here. Sorry."
Clark rolled his eyes and moved to shake Hal's hand. "Nice to meet you, Hal. The snarky one is named Lois. Diana works with us for the school paper."
Hal nodded slightly in understanding. "Ahh... gotcha. This is Barry," he said, jabbing a thumb backwards toward his blond friend. "Hey," Barry said politely.
"We just transferred here from Coast City," Hal explained. "Had no idea she'd be here."
Lois's reporter instinct wouldn't let her stop asking questions. "So why are you here?"
"Wayne Aerospace has a pilots' program for young students over on the outskirts of the city. I take my pilot classes over there, and my normal classes here. I would've been here a month ago, but my transcripts... got lost along the way."
Barry chimed in. "More accurately, another one of his ex-girlfriends broke into the school office and burned his records."
Hal rolled his eyes and turned to Barry. "They never proved that she was the one who actually started that fire!"
Lois kept her snarky attitude focused. "Well, that'll make things pretty tough for you this semester, playing catch-up and all."
Hal turned to her. "It just takes a little willpower, Lois," he said, sending her a wink.
Lois almost blushed, but caught herself in time. "Damn! He's good at that..." she thought.
Clark looked at the clock on the wall, and remembered quickly that he had to get to class. "Well, if you guys need anything, let me know. I'd be happy to show you around sometime."
"Thanks," Barry said politely. "We'd better go, Hal. We don't wanna be late again."
"Sure," Hal acknowledged. "I'll see you guys later, I guess," he said to Lois and Clark as he walked toward his next class.
When Diana angrily opened the door to the Daily Star office—she barely remembered to be careful not to break it down—she found Bart sitting in her chair, his legs pulled up onto the seat and his arms around his knees. He looked like he'd just looked into the face of death itself.
Diana quickly forgot her anger towards Hal as she saw Bart's distress. "Bart! Are you okay?" she said as she ran across the room and crouched next to him, putting her hand on his shoulder.
"That... that guy..." Bart said.
Diana was surprised. "Hal? What about him? What did he do?!"
Bart looked at her with frustrated confusion. "What? No. Not him. The other guy."
"The blond one?" Diana asked. "What about him?"
Bart looked her in the eyes. "He's my grandfather."
Monday, February 15, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Secret Files
After Bruce and Alfred were left alone in the penthouse, they went to work.
Long after WayneTech's employees had gone home for the night, Bruce took their place. In the darkness of night, Bruce sat in the building's main laboratory, staring intently at three water glasses on the table in front of him. Each of the glasses had, at some point, touched the lips of one of the super-powered teens that had been Bruce's guests earlier that night.
Once the chemical/DNA analysis was complete, Bruce copied the information to a flashdrive and erased all evidence of his presence.
Long after WayneTech's employees had gone home for the night, Bruce took their place. In the darkness of night, Bruce sat in the building's main laboratory, staring intently at three water glasses on the table in front of him. Each of the glasses had, at some point, touched the lips of one of the super-powered teens that had been Bruce's guests earlier that night.
Once the chemical/DNA analysis was complete, Bruce copied the information to a flashdrive and erased all evidence of his presence.
C:/Users/Bruce/Documents/*hidden folder*/metas.doc
Name: Allen, Bart
DOB: 06/15/1994
Height: 5'6''
Abilities:
Abilities:
Allen has the ability to accelerate his body to supersonic speeds, through means unknown. DNA analysis completely unreadable, due to the test sample vibrating at microscopic levels. It's possible that his DNA is somehow connected to an outside force that induces motion.
Bio:
A sophomore at Metropolis High School. Completely without any close acquaintances aside from Kent, Prince, and Lois. Lied about the origin of his abilities; must investigate further.
Name: Prince, Diana
DOB: 7/24/1993
Height: 5'10''
Height: 5'10''
Abilities:
Superhuman strength and flight. She also possesses the ability to discern truthfulness in others, though it is unclear whether this is based in psychological training or actual superhuman ability. Diana is also trained in a unique form of martial arts designed to block fast-moving projectiles, and can utilize her twin bracelets to deflect high-caliber bullets fired in rapid succession. Her prowess in this form of combat is such that she was able to subdue Floyd "Deadshot" Lawton, a notorious mercenary gunman.
Bio:
Lives with her mother, Helen Prince, and is a recent transfer to Metropolis High. Diana claims to have been born on the legendary Amazonian island of Themyscira, a claim consistent with the delusions of a psychotic mind. As of yet, her history (as well as the origin of her powers) remains unclear.
Several hours after initial separation from her body, the DNA in her saliva broke down and reorganized into basic minerals, with no apparent scientific explanation.
Name: Kent, Clark
DOB: 6/30/1993
Height: 6'2''
Height: 6'2''
Abilities:
Superhuman strength, durability, speed, and flight. He also claims to potentially have additional abilities that he is not yet aware of.
Bio:
Lives in Smallville, Kansas, and commutes to Metropolis High via either super-speed running or flight. Claims to be the sole survivor of an alien planet named "Krypton." No evidence has been shown to support this, though the obvious inhuman abilities he possesses certainly support this type theory.
DNA analysis confirms his non-human nature. Spectrum analysis of dead skin cells on the glass suggest a genetic "Achilles' heel," a weakness in his bodily structure to a highly specific type of radiation. This radiation could, in theory, cause cellular injury and eventual death. As of yet, no known way to replicate this radiation exists.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Super Friends
Diana and Clark rode the elevator up to Bruce's penthouse. They nervously glanced at one another, each giving the other the "oh boy" look.
The last time they'd been invited here, they were attacked by Luthor's hitmen and Bruce had flipped out on them. This time, they didn't know what horrors to expect.
"What's you guys' problem?" Bart rudely said, abruptly breaking the silence.
The elder two teens turned to him, and he suddenly felt as though he were being given "the eyebrow" by two older siblings at once.
The elevator bell dinged, and the doors slid open. Clark, Diana, and Bart stepped into the penthouse in awkward unison. Bart was dazzled by the luxury of the room, but he was smart enough—and shy enough—to keep himself quiet.
Alfred appeared from around the corner, wearing a wide smile as he greeted the guests. "Welcome, Master Kent, Miss Prince, Master Allen. Master Bruce and Miss Lane are in the—" Lois and Bruce walked in from the next room. "Ah, well here they are," Alfred finished.
Lois's face spread into a wide smile, and she happily ran over to meet her friends. She jumped up to give Clark a tight hug, which surprised just about everyone. Clark gave Bruce an awkward look over Lois's shoulder, but Bruce merely responded with a small grin and a shrug.
After making their greetings, the teens gathered in the living room, which had recently been made bulletproof, soundproof, and completely one-way mirrored. As the rest of the group sat down, Bruce stood in front of the bright window, his hands in his pockets. Facing the group, he stood silently for a moment. "The last time that most of you were here, I... overreacted. But you've proven yourselves to be trustworthy, and I want to offer my sincere apologies."
Bart halfway squinted his left eye at Bruce.
He's talking like we're business partners or something.
Clark made eye contact with Diana for a moment, then smiled, stood up, and walked over to Bruce with his right hand extended. "Apology accepted."
Bruce shook Clark's hand. "And... thank you—" he leaned around Clark's shoulder to look at Bart "—both of you, for what you did at the school."
Bart gave Bruce a quick upward nod. "Hey, no sweat."
"We were just glad we could help," Clark said.
Bruce moved to sit down in one of the black leather seats, and motioned for Clark to do the same. The chairs were arranged in a loose circle, allowing Clark, Diana, Bruce, Lois, and Bart to easily see each other. Alfred stood back by the side of the room, ready and waiting to answer any request.
Bruce began speaking to the group. "I called you all here because there are some things that we need to get out."
"Like what?" Diana asked.
"Like what exactly you can all do," Bruce said seriously, shifting his gaze between Clark, Diana, and Bart.
Clark decided to be open with Bruce. "Alright."
Bruce leaned forward a little. "From what I've seen, you're fast, strong, bulletproof, and can apparently defy gravity."
Clark nodded. "That's it, as far as I know."
Bruce's left eyebrow lifted. "As far as you know?"
Clark broke eye contact, unsure of exactly how to respond. "Well... I might have more abilities; I'm not sure. It's a long story."
Bruce wanted to roll his eyes. "Alright, then; who else knows about your abilities?"
Of this, Clark was certain. "Besides the people in this room, only my adoptive parents and a friend of mine back home in Smallville," Clark responded.
"Smallville?" Bart asked.
"Yeah, in Kansas."
"Oh, hey! I know that place! I ran through there once on one of my cross-country trips."
Diana was astounded. "You ran across the country?"
Clark leaned over to her a little. "It's not as hard as it sounds," he said very matter-of-factly.
Lois's brain would have normally been doing backflips at this point, but she was in a kind of starstruck daze that kept her perceptions of reality readily malleable. She mentally rolled over and accepted the truth of whatever the three super-teens felt like saying.
Bruce turned to Diana. "What about you?"
Diana casually shrugged. "The same as Clark, except for the speed. And I think he's stronger than I am..." She caught herself staring at Clark's arm muscles, which were somewhat visible through his shirt sleeves, and quickly shifted her gaze back to the center of the room. "Oh, and I can sense truthfulness in others."
Bart looked a little worried. "Wait, so... like... you can tell if someone's lying?"
"Yes," Diana politely responded.
Bart shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Bruce then turned to Bart with a suspicious eye. "And what can you do?"
Bart shrugged. "I dunno... I can run real fast, I guess."
"That it?" Bruce said, almost flippantly.
Bart slunk down in his chair a bit. "...yeah? I think?"
Bruce looked over at Diana, and she responded with a gentle nod: Bart was telling the truth.
Bruce moved his attention back to Bart. "I know he's an alien"—he pointed to Clark—"and she says she's an Amazon"—he pointed to Diana—"but what are you?"
Bart was feeling more and more squeamish under Bruce's interrogative gaze. "Uh... I'm just a guy. Not an alien or an Amazon or anything. Wait—WHO'S an alien and an Amazon?!?"
Clark and Diana looked at each other. Diana almost giggled. "Whoops... I guess we forgot to mention that. Sorry."
Bart was somewhere between starstruck and bewildered. His eyes were wide and he looked like he might faint out of shock.
Bruce was getting annoyed. "If you're a normal human being, how can you move that fast?"
Bart nearly gulped. He was clearly worried about something. "Well... uh... I was just out for a walk outside one day, and this lightning bolt came down right on top of me, and BAM! I could move like lightning."
Diana frowned at Bart's explanation. Bruce didn't buy it for a second. "I don't buy it," he said. Diana interjected, however. "It's not unheard of, actually. There are many tales of real heroes who were granted special power through events such as he describes."
Lois noticed that whenever Diana spoke of things relating to her Amazon heritage or the ancient world, she spoke very differently, as though she slipped into a different persona. Apparently, she thought, no one on Themyscira uses contractions.
Bruce once again felt like rolling his eyes.
Do ANY of these people make sense?!
"Alright; fine, then."
He straightened up a bit, and did his best to put on a personable face.
"I thought it'd be a good idea to get all that out in the open."
For the rest of the afternoon, the teens enjoyed themselves.
Lois and Diana—being the only girls in the group—went off in a corner by themselves to giggle alone and talk in whispers—until they realized that Clark could hear them from across the room.
Clark and Bart hung out on the couch and watched football on the massive flat-panel TV that sat above the penthouse's fireplace. They were quickly developing a big brother/little brother relationship, despite only having just met each other last week.
Bruce sat alone on a barstool at the kitchen counter, busy typing on his laptop. Clark invited him over to sit with them—twice—but Bruce assured him that he "had some work to take care of," and that they should "just ignore him."
Later that evening, as their get-together came to a close, Clark was the first to leave. He knew better than to overstay his welcome, and he was careful to be gracious and friendly as he left.
Bart moved to leave soon afterward—he didn't want to be stuck alone with Bruce and the chattering girls—but he was stopped by Diana, who gently pulled him aside.
Keeping her voice low, but staring him straight in the eyes, she asked, point-blank: "Why did you lie about where you got your powers?"
Bart's shoulders slumped down, and he sighed heavily. "It's... it's complicated. I really can't talk about it?"
"Why not?" She said firmly, not letting him slip away.
"Because!" he said, accidentally raising his voice a bit. After quickly looking back over his shoulder to make sure that Bruce and Lois didn't notice, he turned back to Diana. "...It'll mess everything up."
Diana sensed the truth in Bart's words this time, and slowly leaned back, letting her concern for him show on her face.
Bart took a step backwards from her, then shamefully walked to the elevator and left.
Lois kissed Bruce goodbye, and left as well. Diana began to walk towards the door, but stopped when Bruce called to her. "Diana. Would you stay for a minute?"
Curious and puzzled, she nodded and walked over to him. Once the elevator carried the others away, Bruce took a deep, quiet breath, let his head hang down a bit, shut his eyes, and prepared to explain himself.
"Nine years ago, my parents were murdered by a street thug in Gotham city with a gun."
Diana's eyes went wide with surprise, but then quickly softened with sympathy for him. "Oh, Bruce, I'm sorry; I didn't know."
Bruce stiffly shrugged. "It's not something that I tell a lot of people."
"Yeah..." Diana said, still feeling bad for him.
Bruce continued. "I've often thought that... perhaps, if I—or my father—had been prepared, my parents would both be alive."
Diana recognized what Bruce was feeling: survivor's guilt, something that was quite common among Amazon warriors. "Bruce, you can't make yourself think of the past that way; it's—"
"I'm not thinking of the past," he interrupted. "I'm thinking of the present."
Diana paused for a moment. "What do you mean?"
Bruce took a few seconds to gather his humility before speaking. "Last week, when Lois and I were taken captive... Lois was almost killed, exactly the same way that my mother was."
"That must have been horrifying... what happened?"
"Clark happened."
Diana smirked a little. "That sounds like him."
Bruce was not amused at Diana's obvious admiration for Clark. "I need to be able to protect myself."
"Bruce, there's nothing wrong with relying on a friend—"
Bruce interrupted her, his eyes burning with an anger that shone through his seemingly controlled demeanor. "I will NOT be left helpless. Not ever again."
Diana's heart swelled with compassion for him, but she was still not quite understanding what he was getting at. "So what does that have to do with me?"
"You were able to take down Deadshot, despite the thirty-seven bullets he fired at you, but you didn't mention enhanced hand-eye coordination as one of your powers. You didn't defeat him with your powers; you beat him with combat training."
Diana was starting to see where he was going with this. "Yes... that's true, to an extent. Amazons aren't much more coordinated than humans, we're just trained from childhood as warriors. Why do you ask?"
Bruce stared into Diana's eyes with a steel-forged resolve.
"Teach me."
The last time they'd been invited here, they were attacked by Luthor's hitmen and Bruce had flipped out on them. This time, they didn't know what horrors to expect.
"What's you guys' problem?" Bart rudely said, abruptly breaking the silence.
The elder two teens turned to him, and he suddenly felt as though he were being given "the eyebrow" by two older siblings at once.
The elevator bell dinged, and the doors slid open. Clark, Diana, and Bart stepped into the penthouse in awkward unison. Bart was dazzled by the luxury of the room, but he was smart enough—and shy enough—to keep himself quiet.
Alfred appeared from around the corner, wearing a wide smile as he greeted the guests. "Welcome, Master Kent, Miss Prince, Master Allen. Master Bruce and Miss Lane are in the—" Lois and Bruce walked in from the next room. "Ah, well here they are," Alfred finished.
Lois's face spread into a wide smile, and she happily ran over to meet her friends. She jumped up to give Clark a tight hug, which surprised just about everyone. Clark gave Bruce an awkward look over Lois's shoulder, but Bruce merely responded with a small grin and a shrug.
After making their greetings, the teens gathered in the living room, which had recently been made bulletproof, soundproof, and completely one-way mirrored. As the rest of the group sat down, Bruce stood in front of the bright window, his hands in his pockets. Facing the group, he stood silently for a moment. "The last time that most of you were here, I... overreacted. But you've proven yourselves to be trustworthy, and I want to offer my sincere apologies."
Bart halfway squinted his left eye at Bruce.
He's talking like we're business partners or something.
Clark made eye contact with Diana for a moment, then smiled, stood up, and walked over to Bruce with his right hand extended. "Apology accepted."
Bruce shook Clark's hand. "And... thank you—" he leaned around Clark's shoulder to look at Bart "—both of you, for what you did at the school."
Bart gave Bruce a quick upward nod. "Hey, no sweat."
"We were just glad we could help," Clark said.
Bruce moved to sit down in one of the black leather seats, and motioned for Clark to do the same. The chairs were arranged in a loose circle, allowing Clark, Diana, Bruce, Lois, and Bart to easily see each other. Alfred stood back by the side of the room, ready and waiting to answer any request.
Bruce began speaking to the group. "I called you all here because there are some things that we need to get out."
"Like what?" Diana asked.
"Like what exactly you can all do," Bruce said seriously, shifting his gaze between Clark, Diana, and Bart.
Clark decided to be open with Bruce. "Alright."
Bruce leaned forward a little. "From what I've seen, you're fast, strong, bulletproof, and can apparently defy gravity."
Clark nodded. "That's it, as far as I know."
Bruce's left eyebrow lifted. "As far as you know?"
Clark broke eye contact, unsure of exactly how to respond. "Well... I might have more abilities; I'm not sure. It's a long story."
Bruce wanted to roll his eyes. "Alright, then; who else knows about your abilities?"
Of this, Clark was certain. "Besides the people in this room, only my adoptive parents and a friend of mine back home in Smallville," Clark responded.
"Smallville?" Bart asked.
"Yeah, in Kansas."
"Oh, hey! I know that place! I ran through there once on one of my cross-country trips."
Diana was astounded. "You ran across the country?"
Clark leaned over to her a little. "It's not as hard as it sounds," he said very matter-of-factly.
Lois's brain would have normally been doing backflips at this point, but she was in a kind of starstruck daze that kept her perceptions of reality readily malleable. She mentally rolled over and accepted the truth of whatever the three super-teens felt like saying.
Bruce turned to Diana. "What about you?"
Diana casually shrugged. "The same as Clark, except for the speed. And I think he's stronger than I am..." She caught herself staring at Clark's arm muscles, which were somewhat visible through his shirt sleeves, and quickly shifted her gaze back to the center of the room. "Oh, and I can sense truthfulness in others."
Bart looked a little worried. "Wait, so... like... you can tell if someone's lying?"
"Yes," Diana politely responded.
Bart shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
Bruce then turned to Bart with a suspicious eye. "And what can you do?"
Bart shrugged. "I dunno... I can run real fast, I guess."
"That it?" Bruce said, almost flippantly.
Bart slunk down in his chair a bit. "...yeah? I think?"
Bruce looked over at Diana, and she responded with a gentle nod: Bart was telling the truth.
Bruce moved his attention back to Bart. "I know he's an alien"—he pointed to Clark—"and she says she's an Amazon"—he pointed to Diana—"but what are you?"
Bart was feeling more and more squeamish under Bruce's interrogative gaze. "Uh... I'm just a guy. Not an alien or an Amazon or anything. Wait—WHO'S an alien and an Amazon?!?"
Clark and Diana looked at each other. Diana almost giggled. "Whoops... I guess we forgot to mention that. Sorry."
Bart was somewhere between starstruck and bewildered. His eyes were wide and he looked like he might faint out of shock.
Bruce was getting annoyed. "If you're a normal human being, how can you move that fast?"
Bart nearly gulped. He was clearly worried about something. "Well... uh... I was just out for a walk outside one day, and this lightning bolt came down right on top of me, and BAM! I could move like lightning."
Diana frowned at Bart's explanation. Bruce didn't buy it for a second. "I don't buy it," he said. Diana interjected, however. "It's not unheard of, actually. There are many tales of real heroes who were granted special power through events such as he describes."
Lois noticed that whenever Diana spoke of things relating to her Amazon heritage or the ancient world, she spoke very differently, as though she slipped into a different persona. Apparently, she thought, no one on Themyscira uses contractions.
Bruce once again felt like rolling his eyes.
Do ANY of these people make sense?!
"Alright; fine, then."
He straightened up a bit, and did his best to put on a personable face.
"I thought it'd be a good idea to get all that out in the open."
For the rest of the afternoon, the teens enjoyed themselves.
Lois and Diana—being the only girls in the group—went off in a corner by themselves to giggle alone and talk in whispers—until they realized that Clark could hear them from across the room.
Clark and Bart hung out on the couch and watched football on the massive flat-panel TV that sat above the penthouse's fireplace. They were quickly developing a big brother/little brother relationship, despite only having just met each other last week.
Bruce sat alone on a barstool at the kitchen counter, busy typing on his laptop. Clark invited him over to sit with them—twice—but Bruce assured him that he "had some work to take care of," and that they should "just ignore him."
Later that evening, as their get-together came to a close, Clark was the first to leave. He knew better than to overstay his welcome, and he was careful to be gracious and friendly as he left.
Bart moved to leave soon afterward—he didn't want to be stuck alone with Bruce and the chattering girls—but he was stopped by Diana, who gently pulled him aside.
Keeping her voice low, but staring him straight in the eyes, she asked, point-blank: "Why did you lie about where you got your powers?"
Bart's shoulders slumped down, and he sighed heavily. "It's... it's complicated. I really can't talk about it?"
"Why not?" She said firmly, not letting him slip away.
"Because!" he said, accidentally raising his voice a bit. After quickly looking back over his shoulder to make sure that Bruce and Lois didn't notice, he turned back to Diana. "...It'll mess everything up."
Diana sensed the truth in Bart's words this time, and slowly leaned back, letting her concern for him show on her face.
Bart took a step backwards from her, then shamefully walked to the elevator and left.
Lois kissed Bruce goodbye, and left as well. Diana began to walk towards the door, but stopped when Bruce called to her. "Diana. Would you stay for a minute?"
Curious and puzzled, she nodded and walked over to him. Once the elevator carried the others away, Bruce took a deep, quiet breath, let his head hang down a bit, shut his eyes, and prepared to explain himself.
"Nine years ago, my parents were murdered by a street thug in Gotham city with a gun."
Diana's eyes went wide with surprise, but then quickly softened with sympathy for him. "Oh, Bruce, I'm sorry; I didn't know."
Bruce stiffly shrugged. "It's not something that I tell a lot of people."
"Yeah..." Diana said, still feeling bad for him.
Bruce continued. "I've often thought that... perhaps, if I—or my father—had been prepared, my parents would both be alive."
Diana recognized what Bruce was feeling: survivor's guilt, something that was quite common among Amazon warriors. "Bruce, you can't make yourself think of the past that way; it's—"
"I'm not thinking of the past," he interrupted. "I'm thinking of the present."
Diana paused for a moment. "What do you mean?"
Bruce took a few seconds to gather his humility before speaking. "Last week, when Lois and I were taken captive... Lois was almost killed, exactly the same way that my mother was."
"That must have been horrifying... what happened?"
"Clark happened."
Diana smirked a little. "That sounds like him."
Bruce was not amused at Diana's obvious admiration for Clark. "I need to be able to protect myself."
"Bruce, there's nothing wrong with relying on a friend—"
Bruce interrupted her, his eyes burning with an anger that shone through his seemingly controlled demeanor. "I will NOT be left helpless. Not ever again."
Diana's heart swelled with compassion for him, but she was still not quite understanding what he was getting at. "So what does that have to do with me?"
"You were able to take down Deadshot, despite the thirty-seven bullets he fired at you, but you didn't mention enhanced hand-eye coordination as one of your powers. You didn't defeat him with your powers; you beat him with combat training."
Diana was starting to see where he was going with this. "Yes... that's true, to an extent. Amazons aren't much more coordinated than humans, we're just trained from childhood as warriors. Why do you ask?"
Bruce stared into Diana's eyes with a steel-forged resolve.
"Teach me."
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
I Was A Hostage
by Lois Lane
Earlier today, I was held at gunpoint by a serial murderer.
I had been sitting in my office when I heard the news on TV: the Excelsior Academy had been taken over by armed men, and its students were being held for ransom. Like every other reporter in town, I showed up at the school to try and "get the story." But when I got there, all I could see was yellow tape and flashing lights. Even though every sensible fiber in my being told me to stay put, my instinct told me otherwise. I found an open air vent on the side of the building, and snuck inside when no one was looking. I crawled my way through the ventilation shafts, trying to get even a small glimpse of what was going on. By the time I got to a place where I could see anything, I was found. A man reached up and pulled me right out of the vent, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I was dragged across the hallway, and I couldn't do a thing.
Eventually, the mercenaries decided to make an example of me, and their leader—Floyd Lawton, a man with at least thirty-five murders to his name—turned his gun on me. In all honesty, I thought that I would die, right then and there. Before the bullets could hit, however, a miracle happened.
It's been said that the youth of today is lazy, self-obsessed, and ignorant. After today, I can honestly say that this is most definitely not true. Today, I saw the youth of Metropolis fight back against injustice. I saw young men rise up and beat back those who would threaten their peers—for no greater reason than their own moral fortitude and selflessness. Yes, they acted rashly. Yes, they took a risk. But I am alive today because of it. In a situation that seemed devoid of all hope, hope surprised me. In this modern age, so often filled with cynicism, we can take comfort in the fact that there truly are heroes in this world.
I had been sitting in my office when I heard the news on TV: the Excelsior Academy had been taken over by armed men, and its students were being held for ransom. Like every other reporter in town, I showed up at the school to try and "get the story." But when I got there, all I could see was yellow tape and flashing lights. Even though every sensible fiber in my being told me to stay put, my instinct told me otherwise. I found an open air vent on the side of the building, and snuck inside when no one was looking. I crawled my way through the ventilation shafts, trying to get even a small glimpse of what was going on. By the time I got to a place where I could see anything, I was found. A man reached up and pulled me right out of the vent, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I was dragged across the hallway, and I couldn't do a thing.
Eventually, the mercenaries decided to make an example of me, and their leader—Floyd Lawton, a man with at least thirty-five murders to his name—turned his gun on me. In all honesty, I thought that I would die, right then and there. Before the bullets could hit, however, a miracle happened.
It's been said that the youth of today is lazy, self-obsessed, and ignorant. After today, I can honestly say that this is most definitely not true. Today, I saw the youth of Metropolis fight back against injustice. I saw young men rise up and beat back those who would threaten their peers—for no greater reason than their own moral fortitude and selflessness. Yes, they acted rashly. Yes, they took a risk. But I am alive today because of it. In a situation that seemed devoid of all hope, hope surprised me. In this modern age, so often filled with cynicism, we can take comfort in the fact that there truly are heroes in this world.
End.
Area 9 12:56:36 10/08/09
(My apologies for posting this chapter three days late.)
Two days after the hostage crisis, things were back to normal. Luthorcorp was still under investigation, Deadshot was incarcerated in Stryker's Island maximum-security prison, and no one outside of the five teens and Alfred knew what had really happened at Excelsior. Deadshot claimed to have fought a bulletproof boy and a warrior princess, and was quickly thereafter labeled insane and recommended for transfer to Arkham Asylum. Lois had already published her first-hand eyewitness account of the incident—"I Was A Hostage"—in the Daily Star, and had already received several calls from high-profile newspaper publishers about possible internship. Despite the relative horror of the hostage situation, the teens were enjoying a relatively happy time. All except for one.
"So is Bruce still not talking about the whole thing?"
Diana's deep blue eyes were wide open with honest curiosity. Lois, her head leaning sideways into the palm of her hand, barely opened her mouth to reply "no."
They were sitting alone together for lunch, which that didn't happen often. Diana was almost ashamedly excited to have some time alone with another girl—after all, she had been raised on an island of only women, and therefore had a very sisterhood-centric upbringing. After living in man's world for over a year, she'd begun to crave the simple sisterly relationships that she once had.
Lois, on the other hand, could care less about the sex of whomever she was talking to.
"It's because of Clark, isn't it?" Diana asked.
"A little bit, I think," Lois replied.
"Is Bruce always this mistrusting?" Diana asked.
Lois thought for a moment before responding. "...Not exactly. He just... well... Bruce is suspicious of everyone that he can't figure out or understand. And when you're as literally alien as Clark is, then... well... you get the idea."
Diana nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so. But look at what happened. Clark saved both your lives; doesn't he deserve a little bit of trust?"
Lois shrugged. "Tell that to Bruce. I don't know if he'll ever trust Clark completely, no matter what happens."
Diana let her eyes sadly sink toward the table. "That's... too bad. With Clark's powers and Bruce's resources, they could probably accomplish a lot if they worked together."
That night, Bruce sat alone at his computer, watching a security videorecording of Metropolis High's cafeteria. One rather large line of text on the screen read "WayneTech hi-res sound zoom active." On the recording, Diana and Lois's voices could be clearly heard above all the rest: "...they could probably accomplish a lot if they worked together..."
Bruce paused the recording.
He put his hand to his chin and leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
Two days after the hostage crisis, things were back to normal. Luthorcorp was still under investigation, Deadshot was incarcerated in Stryker's Island maximum-security prison, and no one outside of the five teens and Alfred knew what had really happened at Excelsior. Deadshot claimed to have fought a bulletproof boy and a warrior princess, and was quickly thereafter labeled insane and recommended for transfer to Arkham Asylum. Lois had already published her first-hand eyewitness account of the incident—"I Was A Hostage"—in the Daily Star, and had already received several calls from high-profile newspaper publishers about possible internship. Despite the relative horror of the hostage situation, the teens were enjoying a relatively happy time. All except for one.
"So is Bruce still not talking about the whole thing?"
Diana's deep blue eyes were wide open with honest curiosity. Lois, her head leaning sideways into the palm of her hand, barely opened her mouth to reply "no."
They were sitting alone together for lunch, which that didn't happen often. Diana was almost ashamedly excited to have some time alone with another girl—after all, she had been raised on an island of only women, and therefore had a very sisterhood-centric upbringing. After living in man's world for over a year, she'd begun to crave the simple sisterly relationships that she once had.
Lois, on the other hand, could care less about the sex of whomever she was talking to.
"It's because of Clark, isn't it?" Diana asked.
"A little bit, I think," Lois replied.
"Is Bruce always this mistrusting?" Diana asked.
Lois thought for a moment before responding. "...Not exactly. He just... well... Bruce is suspicious of everyone that he can't figure out or understand. And when you're as literally alien as Clark is, then... well... you get the idea."
Diana nodded. "Yeah, I suppose so. But look at what happened. Clark saved both your lives; doesn't he deserve a little bit of trust?"
Lois shrugged. "Tell that to Bruce. I don't know if he'll ever trust Clark completely, no matter what happens."
Diana let her eyes sadly sink toward the table. "That's... too bad. With Clark's powers and Bruce's resources, they could probably accomplish a lot if they worked together."
That night, Bruce sat alone at his computer, watching a security videorecording of Metropolis High's cafeteria. One rather large line of text on the screen read "WayneTech hi-res sound zoom active." On the recording, Diana and Lois's voices could be clearly heard above all the rest: "...they could probably accomplish a lot if they worked together..."
Bruce paused the recording.
He put his hand to his chin and leaned back in his chair, deep in thought.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Tag Team
An air vent. Yeah; nice one, Lois. Normal people see an air vent on the side of a building and think "hmm; I should leave that alone." You see an air vent, and you think "Hey! A way to sneak inside a building that's been taken over by armed terrorists!"
Lois Lane sarcastically cursed herself as she crawled through a large ventilation shaft inside Excelsior. Somehow, she'd been able to sneak past the police and onto the school grounds, quickly finding an opened vent cover near the ground that was just big enough for her to comfortably squeeze through. At this point, however, she'd had to climb through an entire ventilation system—avoiding fans and other hazards along the way—and was shuffling along on her bruised knees through the shaft that ran along the ceiling of the building's second floor.
Most would call her choice to enter the building "foolish," "stupid," and/or "insane." Personally, Lois preferred "daring." If she'd played it safe and stayed outside, she'd have had to settle for getting her information from official police reports and outsider eyewitness accounts: the same as every other one of the dozen or so reporters that stood outside Excelsior. For Lois, that simply wasn't good enough. If she had to get a little crazy in order to get the real scoop, then so be it.
Eventually, she crawled near a vent in the shaft's floor, where she could see one of the gunmen patrolling the hallway beneath her. Suddenly, the air conditioning turned on, and the school's very old and very loud fans started blowing air through the shafts. The man below, noticing the unusually loud sound, casually lifted his head up to look at the vent. With a slight gasp, Lois threw her head back away from the vent, so as not to be spotted through the slots. Unfortunately, she threw her head backwards into the top of the shaft, making an echoing, booming crash.
Ohhhh... that's not good.
A few seconds later, Lois saw the vent cover fall away into the room. The man's arm reached inside, grabbed her by the ankle, and forcefully pulled her out of the shaft, sending her crashing down onto the floor.
At this point, Lois resigned herself to the fact that she was probably nothing more than a walking bruise. Before she could finish her thought, however, she was grabbed by the wrist and dragged along the hall. Thinking as quickly as her aching head would allow her, she tried to twist the man's arm, thus putting him on the ground where she could knee him in the face. Unfortunately, she quickly realized that actual muscle was required in order to do something like that, and she had very little of it.
Clark, Diana, and Bart stood in an alleyway where they could clearly see Excelsior.
Clark turned to Bart. "Are you ready?"
Bart nervously shrugged. "Yeah, um... sure."
Clark gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll do fine. Just remember the plan."
Bart nodded.
Clark took a deep breath. "Let's go."
Diana saw the two boys abruptly replaced by swirls of heavy wind.
Bart ran towards a building on Excelsior's Western side, faster than anyone on the street would notice. Moving as fast as he was, he easily ran upwards along the side of the buildings, finally reaching the roof. The building he was standing on was three stories tall, which equaled about two of Excelsior's extremely tall stories. At this precise height, he could see straight into one of the school's windows. He looked down at his watch, counting down the seconds until it was time.
Four... three... two... one.
He ran towards the roof's edge, jumping at the last possible second. He zoomed across the distance between the buildings in only a few seconds, crashing through one of Excelsior's second-story windows.
He tumbled as he landed, feeling slightly stupid for telling Clark that super speed-jumping across a street and crashing through a window would be a great idea.
He took a few seconds to recover from his landing, only to look upwards into the eyes of two rather-surprised-yet-still-mean-looking thugs. They leveled their weapons at him and fired. He was up and off the floor in a flash, however, and zipped around their backs to give them each a super-speed punch to the back of the head.
As they slowly slumped to the ground, Bart felt strangely proud of his accomplishment. As he stood for a moment in awe of his own skill, he heard gunfire coming from farther down the hallway. His heart sank as he realized his mistake.
I... I wasn't fast enough...
Bruce could only watch as Davik fired on his beloved Lois. Lois could only clamp her eyes shut as her death moved ever-closer. Before the bullets could strike her, however, she heard a strange sound.
*PANGPANGPANGPANG*
She slowly opened her eyes, and looked up to see Clark standing over her, his fists clenched and his stance firm. Davik almost jumped back in surprise, giving Clark a wide-eyed stare of bewilderment. Clark took two steps forward before backhanding Davik square in the chest, sending him flying across the room and into a wall. He limply sank to the floor.
Bruce was—for once—relieved to see Clark. As he looked over at Lois, he saw her eyes filled with tears. Clark turned to her for a brief second, as if to say "are you alright?" Lois's eyes responded with a "thank you."
Bart suddenly appeared in the doorway, snapping everyone in the room out of their overdramatic trance. Clark's head snapped upward to meet Bart's gaze, then, remembering their task, they both sped out of the room.
Lois's scrunched her face confusedly. Was that Bart Allen?
Bruce nearly rolled his eyes in frustration. How many of these people ARE there?!
Clark and Bart split up, running through each and every room of the entire building, knocking out each and every one of the gunmen. Within a few seconds, they met back in the main second-story hallway, pausing to hear the combined sound of all thirty-four men slump to the ground in one collective thump.
Walking back to the room where they'd left Lois and Bruce, Clark and Bart found the couple sitting on the floor, with Lois's arms wrapped lovingly around Bruce. Clark moved behind Bruce, bending down and snapping the plastic tie on his wrists by pinching it between his fingers.
*BAM*
The front door of the school could be heard busting open. The police were now spreading through the school, and would be upstairs in a few moments' time. "Well, I guess it's time to get outta here," Bart said. Before Clark and Bart could speed away, however, something caught Lois's attention. "Wait! Where'd he go?!"
The four of them looked over at where Davik had been shoved into a wall by Clark, but he was nowhere to be found.
What the **** was that?
Davik audibly cursed himself as he ran through the sewers below the school. He clutched his chest slightly, feeling very sore. Tearing away his shirt, he looked down at the skin-tight chrome-weave armor that he'd been wearing underneath it. It was made of strips of metallic fabric, tightly wrapped around his body. Normally he used it simply to stop bullets, but apparently it did a decent job of padding against super-strong teenager slaps as well.
No matter where he was or what job he was doing, Davik always had an escape plan. He'd been able to slip away from Clark and the rest by faking unconsciousness and sneaking out the classroom's corner door while no one was looking. From there, he's made his way down to the basement, which had an old pipe that lead to the sewers.
He made his exit through a manhole in a quiet alleyway. Taking a quick look back in the general direction of the school, he gave a quick "whatever" shrug, then turned back around to walk away. He stopped abruptly when he saw a girl standing in his way. She was tall, beautiful, black-haired, and wore thick silver bracelets on her wrists. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, as though she were ready for a fight.
Davik casually gave out a single chuckle, then pulled out two large silver pistols from holsters on his sides. "Look, babe, you really don't wanna get in my way right now." He got an arrogant smirk on his face. "Though maybe later, if you like."
"You must be Floyd Lawton," Diana said calmly, her expression serious.
"Aww, c'mon! They figured that one out already? Ugh. I liked being called Davik. Kinda sounded more respectable, don'tcha think?"
Diana didn't respond, but kept staring him down.
Floyd rolled his eyes. "Fine. Be that way."
*BLAM*
Floyd's arm was casually extended outward towards Diana, the gun in his hand smoking from the shot it had just fired. Diana's arm was in front of her face, and a black mark from a bullet was smeared across her bracelet.
Floyd was surprised, and slightly frustrated. He quickly realized something, however, and smirked at her. "You're not bulletproof like the other guy, are you?"
Diana shifted her stance slightly. "I don't have to be."
Floyd laughed at her. "You really don't get it, do you? Floyd Lawton's the name my mother gave me..."
Floyd reached behind his neck, pulling the full-mask hood of his metal armor tight over his face. With it on, his face resembled that of a metallic mummy, with a glowing red targeting eyepiece set into the mask's right eye socket. "...my real name is the one they gave me in Gotham. The one that people really know me by. My name is Deadshot."
In a split-second, his twin pistols were ablaze with fire. Diana did her best to deflect all the bullets, but it was quickly becoming difficult. There were only so many ways in which she could move her arms, and he was quickly finding all the angles that were the most difficult.
*BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM*
Diana could feel herself slipping up a little. One of the bullets grazed the inside of her lower leg, and she fell to the ground with a slight scream of pain. A few idle drops of blood fell to the ground.
Deadshot paused for a moment, eyeing his wounded prey.
"Heh. Not good enough, princess."
He aimed his gun right at her forehead.
*BLAM*
She was ready for him.
She deflected the bullet with her left bracelet, sending it ricocheting straight back into Deadshot's forehead. His metal-weave mask protected him, but the sheer force of the high-caliber bullet was enough to nearly knock him out. He fell backwards to the ground, barely managing to catch himself and stay sitting up.
Police sirens began to creep closer to the alley. Diana lifted herself off the ground and floated upwards, gently flying over a rooftop and out of sight. Deadshot, still stunned, turned toward the street, only to see the back end of Maggie Sawyer's pistol slam into his face.
Lois Lane sarcastically cursed herself as she crawled through a large ventilation shaft inside Excelsior. Somehow, she'd been able to sneak past the police and onto the school grounds, quickly finding an opened vent cover near the ground that was just big enough for her to comfortably squeeze through. At this point, however, she'd had to climb through an entire ventilation system—avoiding fans and other hazards along the way—and was shuffling along on her bruised knees through the shaft that ran along the ceiling of the building's second floor.
Most would call her choice to enter the building "foolish," "stupid," and/or "insane." Personally, Lois preferred "daring." If she'd played it safe and stayed outside, she'd have had to settle for getting her information from official police reports and outsider eyewitness accounts: the same as every other one of the dozen or so reporters that stood outside Excelsior. For Lois, that simply wasn't good enough. If she had to get a little crazy in order to get the real scoop, then so be it.
Eventually, she crawled near a vent in the shaft's floor, where she could see one of the gunmen patrolling the hallway beneath her. Suddenly, the air conditioning turned on, and the school's very old and very loud fans started blowing air through the shafts. The man below, noticing the unusually loud sound, casually lifted his head up to look at the vent. With a slight gasp, Lois threw her head back away from the vent, so as not to be spotted through the slots. Unfortunately, she threw her head backwards into the top of the shaft, making an echoing, booming crash.
Ohhhh... that's not good.
A few seconds later, Lois saw the vent cover fall away into the room. The man's arm reached inside, grabbed her by the ankle, and forcefully pulled her out of the shaft, sending her crashing down onto the floor.
At this point, Lois resigned herself to the fact that she was probably nothing more than a walking bruise. Before she could finish her thought, however, she was grabbed by the wrist and dragged along the hall. Thinking as quickly as her aching head would allow her, she tried to twist the man's arm, thus putting him on the ground where she could knee him in the face. Unfortunately, she quickly realized that actual muscle was required in order to do something like that, and she had very little of it.
Clark, Diana, and Bart stood in an alleyway where they could clearly see Excelsior.
Clark turned to Bart. "Are you ready?"
Bart nervously shrugged. "Yeah, um... sure."
Clark gave him a reassuring smile. "You'll do fine. Just remember the plan."
Bart nodded.
Clark took a deep breath. "Let's go."
Diana saw the two boys abruptly replaced by swirls of heavy wind.
Bart ran towards a building on Excelsior's Western side, faster than anyone on the street would notice. Moving as fast as he was, he easily ran upwards along the side of the buildings, finally reaching the roof. The building he was standing on was three stories tall, which equaled about two of Excelsior's extremely tall stories. At this precise height, he could see straight into one of the school's windows. He looked down at his watch, counting down the seconds until it was time.
Four... three... two... one.
He ran towards the roof's edge, jumping at the last possible second. He zoomed across the distance between the buildings in only a few seconds, crashing through one of Excelsior's second-story windows.
He tumbled as he landed, feeling slightly stupid for telling Clark that super speed-jumping across a street and crashing through a window would be a great idea.
He took a few seconds to recover from his landing, only to look upwards into the eyes of two rather-surprised-yet-still-mean-looking thugs. They leveled their weapons at him and fired. He was up and off the floor in a flash, however, and zipped around their backs to give them each a super-speed punch to the back of the head.
As they slowly slumped to the ground, Bart felt strangely proud of his accomplishment. As he stood for a moment in awe of his own skill, he heard gunfire coming from farther down the hallway. His heart sank as he realized his mistake.
I... I wasn't fast enough...
Bruce could only watch as Davik fired on his beloved Lois. Lois could only clamp her eyes shut as her death moved ever-closer. Before the bullets could strike her, however, she heard a strange sound.
*PANGPANGPANGPANG*
She slowly opened her eyes, and looked up to see Clark standing over her, his fists clenched and his stance firm. Davik almost jumped back in surprise, giving Clark a wide-eyed stare of bewilderment. Clark took two steps forward before backhanding Davik square in the chest, sending him flying across the room and into a wall. He limply sank to the floor.
Bruce was—for once—relieved to see Clark. As he looked over at Lois, he saw her eyes filled with tears. Clark turned to her for a brief second, as if to say "are you alright?" Lois's eyes responded with a "thank you."
Bart suddenly appeared in the doorway, snapping everyone in the room out of their overdramatic trance. Clark's head snapped upward to meet Bart's gaze, then, remembering their task, they both sped out of the room.
Lois's scrunched her face confusedly. Was that Bart Allen?
Bruce nearly rolled his eyes in frustration. How many of these people ARE there?!
Clark and Bart split up, running through each and every room of the entire building, knocking out each and every one of the gunmen. Within a few seconds, they met back in the main second-story hallway, pausing to hear the combined sound of all thirty-four men slump to the ground in one collective thump.
Walking back to the room where they'd left Lois and Bruce, Clark and Bart found the couple sitting on the floor, with Lois's arms wrapped lovingly around Bruce. Clark moved behind Bruce, bending down and snapping the plastic tie on his wrists by pinching it between his fingers.
*BAM*
The front door of the school could be heard busting open. The police were now spreading through the school, and would be upstairs in a few moments' time. "Well, I guess it's time to get outta here," Bart said. Before Clark and Bart could speed away, however, something caught Lois's attention. "Wait! Where'd he go?!"
The four of them looked over at where Davik had been shoved into a wall by Clark, but he was nowhere to be found.
What the **** was that?
Davik audibly cursed himself as he ran through the sewers below the school. He clutched his chest slightly, feeling very sore. Tearing away his shirt, he looked down at the skin-tight chrome-weave armor that he'd been wearing underneath it. It was made of strips of metallic fabric, tightly wrapped around his body. Normally he used it simply to stop bullets, but apparently it did a decent job of padding against super-strong teenager slaps as well.
No matter where he was or what job he was doing, Davik always had an escape plan. He'd been able to slip away from Clark and the rest by faking unconsciousness and sneaking out the classroom's corner door while no one was looking. From there, he's made his way down to the basement, which had an old pipe that lead to the sewers.
He made his exit through a manhole in a quiet alleyway. Taking a quick look back in the general direction of the school, he gave a quick "whatever" shrug, then turned back around to walk away. He stopped abruptly when he saw a girl standing in his way. She was tall, beautiful, black-haired, and wore thick silver bracelets on her wrists. Her feet were planted firmly on the ground, as though she were ready for a fight.
Davik casually gave out a single chuckle, then pulled out two large silver pistols from holsters on his sides. "Look, babe, you really don't wanna get in my way right now." He got an arrogant smirk on his face. "Though maybe later, if you like."
"You must be Floyd Lawton," Diana said calmly, her expression serious.
"Aww, c'mon! They figured that one out already? Ugh. I liked being called Davik. Kinda sounded more respectable, don'tcha think?"
Diana didn't respond, but kept staring him down.
Floyd rolled his eyes. "Fine. Be that way."
*BLAM*
Floyd's arm was casually extended outward towards Diana, the gun in his hand smoking from the shot it had just fired. Diana's arm was in front of her face, and a black mark from a bullet was smeared across her bracelet.
Floyd was surprised, and slightly frustrated. He quickly realized something, however, and smirked at her. "You're not bulletproof like the other guy, are you?"
Diana shifted her stance slightly. "I don't have to be."
Floyd laughed at her. "You really don't get it, do you? Floyd Lawton's the name my mother gave me..."
Floyd reached behind his neck, pulling the full-mask hood of his metal armor tight over his face. With it on, his face resembled that of a metallic mummy, with a glowing red targeting eyepiece set into the mask's right eye socket. "...my real name is the one they gave me in Gotham. The one that people really know me by. My name is Deadshot."
In a split-second, his twin pistols were ablaze with fire. Diana did her best to deflect all the bullets, but it was quickly becoming difficult. There were only so many ways in which she could move her arms, and he was quickly finding all the angles that were the most difficult.
*BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM*
Diana could feel herself slipping up a little. One of the bullets grazed the inside of her lower leg, and she fell to the ground with a slight scream of pain. A few idle drops of blood fell to the ground.
Deadshot paused for a moment, eyeing his wounded prey.
"Heh. Not good enough, princess."
He aimed his gun right at her forehead.
*BLAM*
She was ready for him.
She deflected the bullet with her left bracelet, sending it ricocheting straight back into Deadshot's forehead. His metal-weave mask protected him, but the sheer force of the high-caliber bullet was enough to nearly knock him out. He fell backwards to the ground, barely managing to catch himself and stay sitting up.
Police sirens began to creep closer to the alley. Diana lifted herself off the ground and floated upwards, gently flying over a rooftop and out of sight. Deadshot, still stunned, turned toward the street, only to see the back end of Maggie Sawyer's pistol slam into his face.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Notes
Hey there, readers. (all three of you)
I know that TJ's publishing schedule has been kinda all-over-the-place as of late, and I apologize. As the stories get more and more massive, they require a lot of planning, so they can't be written on a whim like they once were.
I've now added a music playlist to the blog (UPDATE: that playlist is now gone, since the site that kept it running no longer provides that service), and filled it with several songs that I think act as a good soundtrack for the story.
My Hero - Paramore
Good for the quiet, gentle moments, like the bleacher scene in "After Class."
Introduce A Little Anarchy - Hanz Zimmer (The Dark Knight soundtrack)
Good for the darker, tense, action-filled moments, especially those that involve Bruce. ("Revealings" is the only place where it might fit as of yet, but there'll be more to come.)
Arise - Flyleaf
It's basically the theme for the entire story. The last section (starting at about 2:55) is pretty much the central idea behind the characters:
"Arise and be / All that you dreamed."
Since TJ is a story about the power of youth and the growth of the young potential-heroes, it fits pretty perfectly.
All I Wanted - Paramore
As overdramatic as can possibly be. Perfect for scenes with lots of teen angst and longing. (that'll come later)
Everything - Lifehouse
It's the song that was used for pretty much every tender moment in Smallville (the TV series), and I think it fits nicely. Very genuine and romantic (though there's not really much romance in the story yet. I'll work on that. ;) )
Rest assured that I'll do everything to keep the story moving at a brisk pace.
Oh, and PLEASE leave comments. I don't care if you leave five comments on every single post; I'd be more than happy with that. Tell me what you liked or didn't like, what you thought was cool or what confused you. Tell me what you want to read more about, or what's annoying you in the story. The more feedback I get, the better!
I know that TJ's publishing schedule has been kinda all-over-the-place as of late, and I apologize. As the stories get more and more massive, they require a lot of planning, so they can't be written on a whim like they once were.
I've now added a music playlist to the blog (UPDATE: that playlist is now gone, since the site that kept it running no longer provides that service), and filled it with several songs that I think act as a good soundtrack for the story.
My Hero - Paramore
Good for the quiet, gentle moments, like the bleacher scene in "After Class."
Introduce A Little Anarchy - Hanz Zimmer (The Dark Knight soundtrack)
Good for the darker, tense, action-filled moments, especially those that involve Bruce. ("Revealings" is the only place where it might fit as of yet, but there'll be more to come.)
Arise - Flyleaf
It's basically the theme for the entire story. The last section (starting at about 2:55) is pretty much the central idea behind the characters:
"Arise and be / All that you dreamed."
Since TJ is a story about the power of youth and the growth of the young potential-heroes, it fits pretty perfectly.
All I Wanted - Paramore
As overdramatic as can possibly be. Perfect for scenes with lots of teen angst and longing. (that'll come later)
Everything - Lifehouse
It's the song that was used for pretty much every tender moment in Smallville (the TV series), and I think it fits nicely. Very genuine and romantic (though there's not really much romance in the story yet. I'll work on that. ;) )
Rest assured that I'll do everything to keep the story moving at a brisk pace.
Oh, and PLEASE leave comments. I don't care if you leave five comments on every single post; I'd be more than happy with that. Tell me what you liked or didn't like, what you thought was cool or what confused you. Tell me what you want to read more about, or what's annoying you in the story. The more feedback I get, the better!
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