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Post by lissilambe on Sept 23, 2010 12:24:02 GMT -5
In the darkest days of the Second World War, a frightened nation turned to the first and the greatest band of mystery men ever assembled! Dedicated to peace and justice, they became legends to generations of heroes to come! But before they became legends, they were eight men gathered to forge a new role…As the Justice Society of America!Roll Call:The Flash! Hourman! Johnny Thunder! Sandman! In the pursuit of the Brain Wave!
The Atom! Doctor Fate! The Green Lantern! Hawkman! On the trail of the Wizard! “To the Right of Them, To the Left of Them!”
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Post by lissilambe on Sept 23, 2010 12:24:31 GMT -5
The three colorful mystery men approached the lonely stone tower, perched precariously above Sharktooth Bay. It was a low tower, a small castle brought over stone by stone some fifty years earlier by a wealthy railroad baron. When he lost his fortune during the Great Depression, he hurled himself to the jagged, rocky depths far below the cliff, and left it vacant until successful psychologist Dr. Henry King bought it five years back. It was within these clammy, cold stone walls that he plotted his revenge against childhood faults and his climb to power in the criminal underworld until he was shut down by the Justice Society. Exposed as a powerful telepath, and with the crime fighters and lawmen closing in, the Brain Wave (as King named himself) chose to follow the same path as the castle’s original owner.
“At least, that’s the story as we understand it,” Jay Garrick finished telling Johnny Thunder as they and Hourman stepped from the car Jay had been driving to the tower. Johnny had yet to be a part of the group, and had wanted to know what was so special about the tower. They were less than a quarter mile from the front door, and looked at the weed-choked path leading to the main entrance. “No body was ever found, though.”
“It’s a big bay, with a strong current,” Hourman said as he pushed open the rusted gate for his friends. “We just figured he was swept away.”
“Well, we’ll not make that mistake again,” Flash confirmed as he gazed up at the low gray tower. “From now one, if we don’t find a body, we assume they’re still alive. That’s what I say.”
“Makes sense to me,” Johnny Thunder piped in as he tugged nervously at his blue suspenders. The setting sun glinted off the scuffed sheriff’s badge on his chest as they moved over the cracked pavement and reached the main door. “So we’re here to see if we can find any signs that Brain Wave did survive the fall?”
“That’s the general idea, Johnny,” Hourman answered as he approached the heavy oaken door. He tapped lightly at the wood. “Pretty solid. I could just power through it, if you want. I should probably just take a Miraclo now anyway.” He pressed a switch on his hollowed red belt buckle and felt the reassuring weight of the pill in his palm. He popped it into his mouth and within moments felt the chemical mix with his bloodstream and flood his body with energy.
“Not that I’m sorry to see you get all jazzed up, Hourman,” Flash said as he reached for the doorknob. “But let’s try this the quiet way.” With that he twisted the knob and watched the door open up. A grunt of disappointment from Rex drew smirks from Johnny and Jay. “After you?” Jay offered his black and yellow clad partner.
Hourman stepped in and looked around in the dim recesses of the foyer and adjoining hall. “Pitch black in here,” Hourman answered. “I can see a little better, but not enough to make a difference.”
“That’s easy,” Johnny remarked as he stepped into the room behind Hourman. His hand reached up to rub the face of the badge as he gave a soft cry of, “Say, You!” All three men could hear the familiar crackle of power as the star glowed gently and the ghostly cowboy stepped from the badge, and then all three watched in stunned silence as the spirit’s face gave a shocked look and a yelp of surprise before being sucked into the walls of the tower.
The door began to crash behind them, but not before a figure in a green business suit and dark brown coat dove in through the opening. The round blank black eyes of the Sandman’s gas mask stared around as soft laughter could be heard echoing across the halls.
“Sandman? What are you doing here?” Hourman asked as Flash was pressing his palms against the walls.
“Johnny, what the hell happened to your thunderbolt?” Jay asked the youngest JSAer, who could do nothing but shrug his shoulders in surprise.
“Trapped, my dear Flash,” announced another voice as the dapper black tuxedo of the Wizard came into view. The tall, slender gentleman doffed his top hat to the heroes, and leaned on his cane. “So good to see you all again. In answer to your question, Flash, a simple containment ritual etched into the walls of the tower.”
“How did you know Johnny was coming here?” Hourman growled as he stepped towards the criminal magician, who didn’t flinch at the burly man’s charge.
“Because we wanted you here,” Wizard replied with a smile as the image shimmered and faded at the Man of the Hour’s touch. The Wizard’s new image appeared outside the window to the foyer, looking in.
“We?” Jay snarled as he looked through the window at the magician.
“Yes,” Sandman said quietly. “Doctor Fate and I surmised that he and Brain Wave were in league, so we split up to provide back up to each of you.”
“We don’t need back up to handle this guy,” Flash said as he started to vibrate his body with incredible speed, his words gaining a high-pitched edge to them as a result. “These walls may trap the Thunderbolt, but I can vibrate right through ‘em!” And Flash pressed into the walls and started to scream in pain as the Wizard smiled, his image again dissipating to reappear behind the Sandman.
“Ahh, poor Flash,” Wizard taunted. “I’ve used the trapped power of the Thunderbolt to make the walls impenetrable, and he’s caught like a fly in amber. And with a wave of my cane,” Which the criminal proceeded to do, and then pointed it at Rex, “I can take care of the strongman.”
Suddenly, Hourman began to blur like the Flash, his body being raced by the siphoned speed of his partner. Rex collapsed to his knees and clutched his stomach as the Miraclo burned through his body in mere moments, causing tremendous pain to the burly hero.
“Now then, Sandman,” Wizard said calmly as he turned to face the Master of Dreams. “You were going to provide back-up because you knew the secret? How do you hope to do that? You have a gas gun, and I…I have true power!” With a wave of his hands, five more Wizards appeared around the last mystery man still standing.
Washington, D.C.
“General, we have a radio broadcast coming in,” the lieutenant reported as a tall, commanding figure entered the situation room. The figures within snapped to attention before being returned to their duties, while General Nathan Burton walked to the radio operator and leaned over him.
”Play it, soldier,” Burton said. He was tall and broad-shouldered, looking like he was born to command men, with a weathered, rugged face topped in short, silvery hair and deep green eyes. His large hands gripped the back of the operator’s chair as he listened.
“Make no mistake about this, leaders of the United States,” came the reedy cackle of the Brain Wave. “I and my partner, the Wizard, are deadly serious. We have no care over who rules this globe, only that we have the resources to make ourselves comfortable. If you want your war preparations to return to normal, you will meet our demands, and without delay. You will return to this frequency in four hours to receive our precise demands, and where to bring them. Until then, this is the Brain Wave, signing out!”
Burton stood up ramrod straight and stroked his jaw. Other officers moved around him, a colonel crossing his arms and staring the general right in the eyes. “Well, sir? This is covered by P Division, and you’re in charge of P Division, so what do we do? We have no leads, and our defenses are useless against these two men, so what now? Report this to the President?”
“Don’t worry, Colonel Myers,” Burton said with a casual smile. “I can guarantee you that the situation is already well in hand. Do nothing about this.”
“But General Burton,” Myers protested, his rounded face full of concern and frustration. “We have to report this! We have nothing, how can you say it’s being handled?”
“I can assure you, Colonel, that you do not need to know that,” Burton replied with a chuckle. “Carry on, gentlemen. I’ll be back in four hours.”
He left the situation room, leaving a group of concerned and confused men in his wake.
Above the Mediterranean
The constant noise of the powerful engines and propellers had become a background drone at long last to the inhabitants inside, but it still left the man in command aggravated. He hated the noise, but there was little he could do, and so he rested deep into his over-sized seat and focused on the files before him. The golden metal mask covered his face, teeth visibly gritting through the slit over his mouth. His hard black eyes tried to drive the noise from his ears as he shifted in his chair. His deep blue body suit was off-set by the blood-red arms and legs and the high black riding boots. Splashed over a broad chest was the golden war eagle clutching the Swastika of his people, marking him unquestionably as a prime force of the Nazi effort.
<“Herr Baron,”> announced a soldier as he snapped to attention. <“We will be landing within thirty minutes.”>
The man called Baron Blitzkrieg by the most hated man on Earth peered out of his window to the endless seas of sand called the Sahara that were fast approaching and smiled now, behind the gold mask. <“Excellent. Make sure my things are ready to be unloaded as fast as possible. I’m running short on time, and I will see this operation a success.”> He glared at the soldier who gulped and took a step back.
<“Jawohl!”> the soldier cried as he snapped to attention and raised his arm up for salute.
<“Dismissed,”> the Baron added. <“Don’t disturb me until we have landed.”> He watched the soldier pivot on his heel and march out of the private cabin, before peering back out the window. <“I will be glad to be away from this noisome monstrosity,”> he growled to himself. <“They think there is a shadow cast over the world now, just wait until I am done.”> He started to chuckle to himself as he slipped his papers into a pile and into a battered leather briefcase.
New Jersey
The docks were dark and quiet as the greenish glow broke up the sedate, if rundown, setting. Green Lantern landed and the Atom stepped from the verdant bubble, enjoying the feeling of cement under his feet again. Hawkman swooped down next to them like the bird of prey he emulated. They looked over the building before them, a rundown, boarded up, mean-looking pile of wood and steel as they conferred.
“So this is where the Wizard’s been getting his men?” Green Lantern asked his diminutive partner. The Atom looked up at the two men, each at six feet tall, give an inch there or take an inch there, and puffed up his chest in response.
“Yeah, my contacts are solid, Lantern,” the Atom snapped back. “Don’t worry about it. This is the center of that bastard’s operations, I’m sure.”
“Very well, how do we want to proceed?” Alan asked, looking over Hawkman. While he knew all three of them were quite capable, he knew that Hawkman preferred to be in charge, and couldn’t deny the tactical command the archaeologist had when in his harness and helmet.
“I doubt we’ll have surprise,” Hawkman replied. “Wizard’s tough, and we can be reasonably sure that word has gotten back we’ve trailed him here. So we need to go fast, and we need to go hard. Three directions, to try and limit any escape routes.”
“How about four directions?” came another voice, as the azure-and-gold costume of Doctor Fate appeared to them from the darkness.
“Fate,” Atom muttered nervously.
“Good to see you make it, Doctor,” Hawkman said with a grin. “Wizard’s got even less chance now. You go from the back, Lantern, you the front, Atom and I will cover the right and left.” He turned to the smallest of the mystery men, and forced himself to ask, “That okay with you?”
“Yeah, that works,” Atom said. He preferred to lead any charge, but he had to admit Carter was right. He and Hawkman were better at playing goalie and containing thugs and escape routes when messing with a mover like the Wizard.
“Let’s do it then,” Green Lantern said. The band of energy that sparked on his middle right finger released a spectral green hand that grabbed a large metal bin, then let the other three heroes move into position. After several minutes, he hurled the bin through the heavy wooden doors and flew in immediately after. He was prepared to announce surrender, and then the ensuing fight, but instead, was stunned to find an empty room. He zipped in further as he saw his fellows charging in from their positions, but then felt himself crash to the ground. He struggled to fly again, but couldn’t feel contact with the band of energy on his finger. He watched the Atom cry out helplessly and fall to the ground as well, clutching at his knees like they wouldn’t work, and to the other side, Hawkman seemed to be floating helplessly up to the ceiling.
“Well, well, well,” Brain Wave said, that horribly thin voice raking over the minds of the JSA. “Looks like our little trap worked. A little nudge here and there and you have lost all access to your little tricks and powers. Never underestimate the power of a Brain Wave.”
“Flash’s team was right?” Atom said, as he cursed his useless legs under the leather hood.
“Both teams are right,” Doctor Fate said as he stood stock still and stared at the scrawny man with the large, bald head. He could see his own reflection in the thick round glasses of the criminal. “He and the Wizard were in this together. It was Brain Wave’s own telepathy that made you all blow up at each other in the meeting, I’ll wager.”
Henry King walked arrogantly towards the mystic crime fighter, and looked up at him. “You got that right, magician. And it was he who figured out who should go where, and it was he who told me that this helmet of yours probably gives you all the spells you use, since no normal human can remember all that magic. So I’m just damping down your ability to hear those whispers.
Doctor Fate gazed down at the stunted, twisted telepath and grinned. “That’s what Fate and I figured. Which is why I don’t need to listen to any spells. I only have to do one thing.”
“One thing? Fate and y…damnation!” His eyes widened and stared up as the spell wore off, and the aura of Doctor Fate returned to the spellcaster back at Sharktooth Bay. The heavy brown coat of the Sandman filled Brain Wave’s eyes, the soulless, glassy eyes of the Master of Dreams staring back at him.
“Pull my trigger finger,” Sandman said as Henry King dropped his gaze to the gas gun pointed at him and then, the mustard colored gas filled the air around his head, filled his nose and mouth and a thud later, the four JSAers were standing around the unconscious villain.
Sharktooth Bay
“You want power, illusionist?” Demanded Doctor Fate, as the aura of the Sandman fled back to its rightful owner, and the blue and gold sorcerer stood in the middle of the pack of Wizards. “Is that what you said?”
With a wave of his hands, Doctor Fate released energy that tore the five images of the Wizard into ethereal shreds. The criminal mage stepped back and raised his cane to mutter an incantation, but Doctor Fate reached out and gripped the cane and released a single word, a word that released powerful arcs of electricity over the well-dressed villain. With a woozy groan, the Wizard fell to the ground, unmoving.
“It was a good trap, William,” Doctor Fate complimented the unconscious foe as he set about reversing the ritual on the tower and releasing Flash and the Thunderbolt. He moved to Rex and helped him to his feet.
“Gotta say, Doc,” Johnny said as he hugged his spirit friend and then let him vanish back to his home. “You have style and class.”
“Oh?” Doctor Fate asked as he looked at the youthful hero.
“Sure thing, Fate,” Flash replied. “It’s not everyone that compliments their foe on nearly killing them. Come on, let’s get back to the others.”
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Post by lissilambe on Sept 23, 2010 12:24:59 GMT -5
“Of Stars and Swamp Men!”
Starring the Feathered Fury, Hawkgirl, the Stunning Liberty Belle and the Starman, Wielder of the Gravity Rod! “So what part of the plan was this?” Liberty Belle teased her friend as she stabbed the pole deep into the murky waters and pushed her skiff further into the dark swamp forest. She glanced up to check out Hawkgirl, envying her ability to soar the skies, even if at the moment, that soaring was slow and lower than normal, only several feet above the blond head of the patriotic heroine. “Sorry,” Hawkgirl replied as she kept looking around, her sharp eyes taking in each and every detail around her. From twisted trees to muddy embankments to swamp grasses thrust high through stagnant water, she saw it all. Accompanied quite often by a quiet curse and a slap to her bare arms. “I hate mosquitoes,” she muttered. “No need to apologize, I’m just funning you,” Belle said as she pushed her skiff in further. “Let’s face it, neither of us really thought about how big this swamp was going to be.” “Well, we got this far, and all our leads, and all the people we talked to, they said that Cyrus Gold’s old shack was out in this direction,” Hawkgirl answered as she ducked around a tree and then returned to Belle. “I think we’re close now.” “Maybe we should have checked in with Opal City’s mystery man though, Hawk,” Belle said as she poled the skiff further along, watching a large snake slither by. “Slaughter Swamp is here in Dead Turk County. We’re not far from the Opal, he might know something.” “First of all, that kind of defeats the purpose of our coming down here and showing those JSA chauvinists what we can contribute,” Hawkgirl snapped back defensively. “Second, have you actually read about this Starman? Some dandy playboy flying around to get statues erected of himself! I’m not putting my faith in a guy like that!” “Don’t judge him too hard until we get to know him, dear,” Belle replied. “Still, we’ve made our call, and you have a point, so let’s keep pressing on.” For several minutes, both women were quiet as Hawkgirl flanked the skiff and its lone occupant, moving to the right and to the left in hopes of spotting the shack that was the hideout of notorious criminal Cyrus Gold, long suspected of being the body of Solomon Grundy. The sun started to make its way towards the western horizon, casting a darker shadow over an already gloom tableau. “Hawk, this isn’t any good,” Belle said. “We need to get out before it’s night, because I won’t be able to see a thing.” “Seeing not a problem for you anymore,” came a deep, mean-sounding voice from behind them. Liberty Belle jabbed the pole hard into the mucky bottom of the water to stop her craft as Hawkgirl wheeled overhead to see the shape shambling forth. “You invaded Grundy’s home, and you get to die for it!” Solomon Grundy was tall, close to seven feet in height. His shoulders were grotesquely broad, and the leathery, weathered skin was chalk white. Clumps of hair clung to his head like charcoal moss as black pits stared out from his empty eye sockets. Dirty, ragged clothing hung in tatters to its frame. Gnarled, knotted muscles twisted around the long limbs, hinting at untold power despite a lack of obvious bulk, while a lipless mouth curled into a hideous sneer to reveal ragged, uneven teeth. He stank of fetid water and decaying vegetation and rotted meat, and without meaning too, both heroines recoiled at the sight. “Grundy come back to life and go back to crime and it stinks and Grundy come back to home and to hide, and find masked men still hunting him,” he growled as he took a lumbering step forward. His foot drove deep into the putrid muck, and his hands balled up into huge fists. “So masked men must die! Even if masked men is really masked women!” “We’ll see about that,” Liberty Belle shot back as she pressed her fingers to the metal buckle and tapped it. A ringing sound, like the peal of a bell, cut through the gloom as Belle felt the surge of power she received from her symbolic namesake back in Philadelphia. With a push of her legs, she leaped at the mountain of dead matter, and slugged his jaw as hard as she could. The disturbing visage twisted to one side, but Grundy appeared to have little other response to the blow. Instead, Grundy’s own arm lifted up, his forearm backhanding into Liberty Belle’s midsection. Her lungs deflated from the brutal strike, and her body hurled away from him, crashing into the dank waters. Hawkgirl quickly swooped down and snatched her arm, and dragged her up onto a muddy, grassy bank. “Belle!” Shiera cried out as she gave a look at her friend. Glassy eyes looked back up at Hawkgirl as Belle coughed and tried to recover her breath. “This…is gonna be…a lot tougher than we…thought,” Belle muttered as Grundy splashed closer to the two women. “You look like Bird-man, but you softer,” Grundy stated as he looked Hawkgirl over. “If Grundy not dead, Grundy’d enjoy you. Instead, Grundy just kill you!” Hawkgirl slipped the heavy mace from her belt and narrowed her eyes inside of her helmet. “Not without a fight, you creep!” she snarled in her southern twang and flew up at him, bringing the heavy metal ball into direct contact with his face. “And stop looking at me like that! That’s just gross!” Grundy was staggered back by the brutal attack, his nose broken into a grayish-green pulp by the blow. He looked up towards Hawkgirl and gritted his teeth. “Flying didn’t help your man, it won’t help you!” he insisted as he broke off a sapling and swung it up at Hawkgirl. She blocked it with her weapon but it forced her back from the power of the attack. He reached down and found a large log, which he then hurled at her length-wise. She barely managed to fly herself over it, but it caused her to crash into branches above her, tangling her up. Grundy moved forward with his sapling again, and snapped it in half, and prepared to thrust the ragged, torn end into her belly when he felt something holding it in place. “Forget me?” Belle said with a determined look in her face. She was holding the other end of the sapling with all her strength, and tugged it towards her. Grundy was pulled off-balance toward her as she lifted her leg up into a powerful kick. She then grunted in pain as she bounced back from him, her ankle throbbing. “Grundy sorry,” the monster said, seemingly sincerely, as he continued to move toward her now. “Grundy kill you first if it upsets Bell-girl so badly!” “No killings today, Solomon Grundy!” declared a polished, smooth-sounding voice. A soft golden glow appeared above the battle scene, and then the air shimmered as waves of forced crashed into Grundy’s chest. The dead man staggered back and fell into another pool of brackish water as Starman floated down to Liberty Belle’s side. “Not while Starman is here!” Hawkgirl freed herself and then rolled her eyes up at the newcomer’s pronouncement. She shook her head and flew to Liberty Belle, and said, “Looks like you got your wish, Belle. Hope we’re happy with the results.” |
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