The Legion [Mods] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsgolegion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionmissions2017-01-03 06:11 am
letsgolegion) wrote in legionmissions2017-01-03 06:11 am
NO SANITY CLAUSE [modplot]
Who| Open to everyone not in "Silent Horizon"
What| An alternate version of The Joker, Herald of Chronoblivion, wreaks havoc on Cargg
Where| Relegg, capitol city of Cargg
When| Shortly after the other half of the team is deployed to the Silent Horizon
Warnings/Notes| Bombs, madpeople, forced drugging/torture of civilians, creepiness, and chaos
It starts with a bang, of course. Bombs going off, Joker gas making innocent Carggites go completely mad. Joker gang members, paid mercenaries and criminals, pour out into the streets, damaging property and attacking whoever they come in contact with. It's all one big nightmarish surprise -- but one that clearly took a lot of planning. All these bombs, and gas deployment systems, and tech suppression devices, and all these minions... it's random and yet not, calculated and improvised all at once.
This universe hasn't seen a villain like this in 1000 years, and last time it saw it, it was the same one, albeit a version native to this dimension. This one's from another similar dimension, but he dances around in the middle of it all the same way, laughing. Floating cameras broadcast his face to every viewscreen in the UP; he's taken over all the channels.
His body is strange, the colors of his skin and clothes and anything he touches black and white and inverted, like the negative of a photo, but that wide Cheshire grin is just as sinister as it's always been -- in the past or present, in this universe or any other.
"Hellooooo United Planets! Are you sick of having most social ills abolished? Tired of languishing under the heavy burden of an actually functional justice system? Are you bored with never wanting or needing for anything?" He waves both arms with a flourish and does a little soft shoe. "Then it's your lucky day! For a paltry sum of absolutely nothing, you can have your very own Joker! I slice 'em, I dice 'em, I make julienne surprise! Which you need desperately; just admit it, living in a perfect universe is a drag! Humdrum! Tedious!"
He blows a raspberry and waves a hand like it's the worst thing he's ever heard.
"It's a bunch of hooey, I tell ya'. Fortunately, for you, I'm here to blow the galaxy wide open!" Explosions go off behind him and there's a chorus of screams. "Literally!"
He lets out a chilling laugh, like someone's just told him the funniest joke he's ever heard.
"I even recruited a motley crew of madmen to help me with this momentous occasion -- including some UP citizens I tortured to insanity in my Ha Ha Hacienda, my own little homemade Arkham just outside the city. I missed some old friends, don'cha know, from the golden days when psychotics could roll through the revolving doors of the nuthut and freely wander the streets. I couldn't get any of them crazy enough to put on a bat costume -- that was a little too nutty even for them, hoo hoo! -- but I managed to get some familiar faces grinning back at me again, with only a turn or two of the thumbscrews."
His smile widens, even though that should be impossible for it to get any wider.
"This is just the start! Because your precious heroes, those brave souls in the Legion of Superheroes -- they've kept a little secret from the fair citizens of the UP." He leans in close to one of the cameras. "And it's that I'm just the opening act! The warm up! The main event is still to come. Y'see, I'm good pals with Chronoblivion, a monster from outside of space and time that's almost as maniacal as me, and after I've set the galaxy on fire -- and made sure it's well done -- he's ready to settle in for the main course, i.e. you. Your whole universe is going right down the hatch!"
He sweeps both arms out.
"Until then, sit back and enjoy the show, kids! I promise it'll be a gas!"
Another bomb explodes, filling the area around him with Joker gas. Screams in the area around him start turning to hysterical laughter that matches his own laugh, which bursts out of him like a living thing.
"HA HA HA HA! AHA HAHA HAHA HAHA HAHAHAHAHA!"
What| An alternate version of The Joker, Herald of Chronoblivion, wreaks havoc on Cargg
Where| Relegg, capitol city of Cargg
When| Shortly after the other half of the team is deployed to the Silent Horizon
Warnings/Notes| Bombs, madpeople, forced drugging/torture of civilians, creepiness, and chaos
It starts with a bang, of course. Bombs going off, Joker gas making innocent Carggites go completely mad. Joker gang members, paid mercenaries and criminals, pour out into the streets, damaging property and attacking whoever they come in contact with. It's all one big nightmarish surprise -- but one that clearly took a lot of planning. All these bombs, and gas deployment systems, and tech suppression devices, and all these minions... it's random and yet not, calculated and improvised all at once.
This universe hasn't seen a villain like this in 1000 years, and last time it saw it, it was the same one, albeit a version native to this dimension. This one's from another similar dimension, but he dances around in the middle of it all the same way, laughing. Floating cameras broadcast his face to every viewscreen in the UP; he's taken over all the channels.
His body is strange, the colors of his skin and clothes and anything he touches black and white and inverted, like the negative of a photo, but that wide Cheshire grin is just as sinister as it's always been -- in the past or present, in this universe or any other.
"Hellooooo United Planets! Are you sick of having most social ills abolished? Tired of languishing under the heavy burden of an actually functional justice system? Are you bored with never wanting or needing for anything?" He waves both arms with a flourish and does a little soft shoe. "Then it's your lucky day! For a paltry sum of absolutely nothing, you can have your very own Joker! I slice 'em, I dice 'em, I make julienne surprise! Which you need desperately; just admit it, living in a perfect universe is a drag! Humdrum! Tedious!"
He blows a raspberry and waves a hand like it's the worst thing he's ever heard.
"It's a bunch of hooey, I tell ya'. Fortunately, for you, I'm here to blow the galaxy wide open!" Explosions go off behind him and there's a chorus of screams. "Literally!"
He lets out a chilling laugh, like someone's just told him the funniest joke he's ever heard.
"I even recruited a motley crew of madmen to help me with this momentous occasion -- including some UP citizens I tortured to insanity in my Ha Ha Hacienda, my own little homemade Arkham just outside the city. I missed some old friends, don'cha know, from the golden days when psychotics could roll through the revolving doors of the nuthut and freely wander the streets. I couldn't get any of them crazy enough to put on a bat costume -- that was a little too nutty even for them, hoo hoo! -- but I managed to get some familiar faces grinning back at me again, with only a turn or two of the thumbscrews."
His smile widens, even though that should be impossible for it to get any wider.
"This is just the start! Because your precious heroes, those brave souls in the Legion of Superheroes -- they've kept a little secret from the fair citizens of the UP." He leans in close to one of the cameras. "And it's that I'm just the opening act! The warm up! The main event is still to come. Y'see, I'm good pals with Chronoblivion, a monster from outside of space and time that's almost as maniacal as me, and after I've set the galaxy on fire -- and made sure it's well done -- he's ready to settle in for the main course, i.e. you. Your whole universe is going right down the hatch!"
He sweeps both arms out.
"Until then, sit back and enjoy the show, kids! I promise it'll be a gas!"
Another bomb explodes, filling the area around him with Joker gas. Screams in the area around him start turning to hysterical laughter that matches his own laugh, which bursts out of him like a living thing.
"HA HA HA HA! AHA HAHA HAHA HAHA HAHAHAHAHA!"
Ka-Boom! (Casey and Wash)
Not that that's going to stop The Reaper from stopping them, and he follows them through the door. If he keeps his distance, he can probably ambush them before they do any real damage...
no subject
Shit. Shit, this could be a trap-
"Reaper, wait!"
no subject
He hears Wash distantly, but people tell Casey to wait all the time, and he only listens to a fraction of them. His body is always in motion before his ears can tell him that someone wants him to slow down, and once there he's too wired with adrenaline to actually stop.
He does manage to turn around as he approaches the main room and call "Freelancer! I got 'em trapped! C'mon!" before he bolted inside.
no subject
Wash tears in the door after Casey and dodges around him entirely, drawing his gun and heading for the one with the detonator now visible and brought to bear in the goon's hand. They're too far away- he might not make it, might not get a shot off, but fuck it he has to try.
no subject
"Hey!" hung on his lips, when he happened to notice the guy holding what looked like a pen except it was metal and flashing with lights and suddenly Casey got what Wash was going for. But where the heck is the bomb?
His wave of adrenaline has always been what he rode when all else failed, and he made another snap decision, to aim his puck at the guy with the explosive before letting it fly...
no subject
The mook with the detonator realizes they're there (how could he not, with all the noise) and clicks the button.
Wash fires a shot, the stun bullet immediately dropping the detonator mook (not fast enough).
Something near the door beeps once.
The bomb-
Wash turns and lunges, catching Casey in a full tackle, putting himself between Casey and the bomb and an armored forearm over the back of his own neck. "Get down-"
The bomb explodes, hurling fragments of glass through the air. A very unlucky mook catches one in the throat and goes down, gurgling his last.
And Wash screams and lands on the floor in a heap, shards of glass sticking out of his back and shoulders like the world's bloodiest pincushion. One of them has gone straight through his bracer and lodged into his forearm; it would've gone through his neck had he not learned the hard way to protect it.
Wash's world is completely whited out in pain and shock right now. He has the presence of mind not to collapse on top of Casey, but that's it; until Wash can put himself back together, Casey's on his own.
no subject
Casey's spent a lot of school nights pouring over old comic books full of mutants and spandex and powers and battles with fun monsters. Sort of like his actual real life, really, and shouldn't having actual super powers make this easier?
That is a lot of thought to pack into the spaces between getting tackled and the bomb going off and hitting the ground and then Wash screams right next to his ear and most of his thoughts are obliterated.
He's not sure if he can hear anything over the ringing but he gets himself to his hands and knees and gets his first glimpse of how bad Wash is messed up. That is definitely blood. Like, a lot of it. And he's making noises like his back is way more shredded than he can see past his armor.
"Dude, you OK?!"
"Sure are."
Two of the gangbangers took cover behind a climate console and look basically untouched. The guy with the detonator -Oh man- took a piece of glass to the throat, and neither of the others seemed to especially care.
Even the Purple Dragons might be affected if one of their own had their throat sliced open.
Casey can only force his eyes away from the mangled body (bodies?) on the floor and onto the bangers, but his former confidence is gone, replaced with the distinct feeling that he's in over his head. They're still going to attack him, and he can't afford to take any time to think about any of this.
They have stun batons and knives but his stick should be enough to defend himself and Wash...As long as he doesn't slip in the blood.
no subject
Breathe.
Keep breathing.
Breathing fucking hurts, but it grounds him. He hurts because he got hit. He got hit because he was protecting Casey. He was protecting Casey because they're in a fight-
His eyes snap open, looking past the blaring red readouts on his HUD - yeah, his vitals are fucked and he's bleeding from several dozen different places; must be Tuesday - to the layout of the room. Casey, on his feet. One thug down, probably dead. Two more unhurt, advancing. This is not an even fight. He needs to do something.
His gun is just beyond his fingertips - he must have dropped it when he landed. For now, it's all he can do to struggle to reach it.
no subject
He's knocked to the ground and attempts to roll away, only to be stopped in his tracks by a boot pinning his arm. Behind his mask, his eyes widen and the mooks prepare to beat him...
no subject
Instinct kicks in, and he swings the gun around, aiming and firing off two shots in quick succession. They're both shoddy; one hits one thug in the shoulder, and the other clips the side of the other thug's neck. If they'd been real bullets, the shots would have been nothing; thankfully, all stun ammunition needs to do is touch, and both thugs crumple.
As does Wash, dropping his gun again. It's been a long time since the recoil on his pistol has bothered him; then again, he's never had a shoulder full of glass before, and any movement is turning out to be pretty damn painful. For the moment, he just breathes and watches his motion trackers. He'll get up in a minute.
no subject
He hears a short scream and opens his eyes in time to see an unconscious thug's face fall right next to his. Casey doesn't waste any time in getting to his feet, rubbing his arm as he half-stumbles to Wash.
Dude does not look good at all and Casey's stomach twists a little in a not-fun way.
"Hey...Hey, you OK, man?"