Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

Planar Overlay: Two Worlds, One Fate	By : Dibbley777 Category: DC Verse Cartoons > Batman: The Animated Series Views: 3497 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I own nothing, this includes anything Marvel, DC or Magic the Gathering specific.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Greetings Programs! (is it sad that I have always wanted to say that)

*Voice of one mysterious Merc with a Mouth* Yes it is!

Ahem, regardless there are a few announcements that proceed this short chapter. They are as follows.
There will be a ton of crazy action begininning next chapter I promise, but I could not let such an iconic meeting as this go on without giving you all some perspective on both sides. So to be frank this will be a very thought oriented POV chapter. *ducks under some well aimed trash from the peanut gallery whilst trying to soothe the booing* I know, I know, but such are the perils of wishing one's characters to be deeper than puddles in a heatwave, sacrifices must be made! I can promise humor though, there is definitely that, and some things that'll make you go hmmm.
So as stated previously, I am so sorry for not realizing how Magic the Gathering intensive this fic was for people who were not familliar, or had limited exposure to the setting. I will do my best to explain things as we go, however there is just so much information and richness that I am going to pull from all three of the primary crossovers of this fic that to include it all immediately would be even more boring than my long winded asss already is!
So instead if you have any wonder about the Magic the Gathering elements of this story, you can find the cards themselves by pasting any of my bold spell names into http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Default.aspx and you can see the cards that inspired the powers of this fic's main character. I know that he cones across harsh, perhaps boring in a way, but there are explainations for all of that, he will warm up to the world itself as the story goes, as he develops personal connections to the plane he finds himself on, but many of his opinions start out rather brutal or harsh. He will evolve as a character even if he will still retain certain aspects of his personality. Once again, even though this is listed as a DC Marvel crossover, it will seem like DC mainly because the first Arc takes place entirely in Gotham City. Also, rather than almagemate any locations, I will include them all, which means that the population of the world is higher than either world would be on its own. For anyone who wonders why I devote so much time to thoughts and reactions with my characters there are several reasons for this.
1) Almost every character featured in this story is in some way insane, obsessed, or bat shit crazy. I feel it would be a disservice to the characters themselves if I did not reflect this, since this fic will be spending a lot of time in shades of grey. I am a long winded son of a bitch, who is attempting to write his first fic, my reach will oft outstrip my talent, and there is not much I can do about that other than improve as we go. I will change and correct misakes I see as often and quickly as possible, but I am actually blind (no joke) so it may take me some time.
2) Most of the characters in this fic have emotional damage of some form or other, and though I WILL abuse comic book logic like it owes me money, I want to portray the conflict that arises in the hearts of people when they do not know exactly what to feel.
But enough of my foolish rambling for now! on with the show! But wait there's more!
DISCLAIMER: Dibbley777 does not own Marvel Comics, DC Comics, Magic the Gathering or any of their associated intellectual or physical properties. He does however own the OCs used thus far.
"Speech"
'Thought bubbles'
Spells
Location Shifts, Prospective/Scene Changes
Chapter Two: Through the Eyes of Ivy, Dreams and Nightmares in Red and Green pt. 2
"I, am so very sorry."
Those were the last words that slipped past my lips as the first of a furiously flying set of viciously violent vines slammed into my chest, and immediately began to try and burrow towards my heart. One of the last things I remember thinking is;
'Perhaps, I should have seen this coming.'
The Robed Figure's POV
It turns out, despite what you might think, vines are quie capable of a great amount of force. Unsuprisingly, that force is magnified even more impressively when the vines you are talking about happen to serrated, and are moving with enough kinetic energy to punch through solid steel. I took a moment to wonder how it is I always get myself caught up in these homicidal hijinks, 'it is most certainly not entirely my fault that everyone I meet tries to kill me!'
'Well, perhaps it is mostly my fault.'
I felt a second scream from my protesting flesh as a brother vine to the first plunged through a second one of my ribs; the two now tearing through intervining muscle and flesh in a race roward my heart. It was a fantastic idea, one I myself had used just previously to rather impressive effect. Mind you, with that saucy grin on her face, and the way she assumes I will actually die from this, I have to give her points for presentation; even if it is a classic villan flaw to assume you have your enemy beaten.
But I digress.
"And here I thought the quickest way to a man's heart was said to be through his stomach. Well, it looks as if you may wish to call those wonderful world record people and dispel countless generations of myth."
I knew it was a terrible moment to joke. Sadly, over the years I have been alive there have been so very many botched attempts on my life, that I now have the unfortunate tendancy to mock people openly when a wound that should kill me, does not. So instead of
doing the smart thing and continuing banter AFTER I no longer had a hole in my chest, I donned the most cocksure and disarming grin I could muster and did something I knew I should not.
I drew back my hood.
"Well Miss Isley, I would like to say that it is your beauty, and charm that have both ensnared, and transfixed my heart. Sadly however, the litteral as opposed to figurative nature of our situation would conspire to make a liar of me." I went for light-hearted, I truly did,
unfortunately it came out a tad more raspy than I would wish. Accursed puncture wounds throwing off my delivery.
It was then I remembered something not everyone gets the chance to learn; chuckling is far harder than it looks with a foot wide hole in your chest.

Ivy's POV
'Well tonight certainly is not going as expected.'
Those were the dry, and, extremely helpful, words of my inner sarcasm as I watched a man whom I had just impailed, and whose heart I was currently holding ransom; continue to joke and laugh with me as if the foot wide hole I had just made in his chest was a daily occurence!
'Earth to Pam, he is clearly not dying from said hole in his chest, so you may want to start hoping it IS a daily occurance... since I have never known anyone to take a hole to the chest well, which means neither have you.'
As much as I hate to agree with that bitch she does have a point, his life signature is not weakening at all, if anything he is getting stronger. That is kind of a frightening thought to be honest. Even though he has barely done anything in our encounter I can still feel him through The Green, hell how can I not! I am suprised I can even feel anything else! What the hell IS he? I do not know how to describe it, somehow, his very being feels like it carries the energy of entire worlds within it, hundreds, thousands even! But how would that even be possible? How could one body, any body, hold so much energy, so much Power?
I get the terrible feeling that he is toying with me, that he could rip my children from his chest with ease, like a chainsaw slaughtering an innocent sappling. As close as we are, it would take him no time at all to close the distance between us, he may be doing everything he can to hide it, to hold it back, but I can feel the speed and power his form possessess, and honestly the only comparison I can make for the raw physical capabilities, would be Superman. Those are not the kind of odds a smart girl likes to find herself facing on Christmas Eve in Gotham, and I have not survived this long without learning to be smart.
'Yeah, like that time you pissed off a man strong enough to rip your spine out and play it like an accordian? The same man you watched hold a man's beating heart in his hands while waiting for it to stop; all the while looking straight into his eyes? Remember how you
came up with that amazing plan to get us out of it, being the brilliant Godess of Nature that you are? Oh wait, that's right, we're still dealing with that now! Well don't let me stop you, take it away, smart girl.'
'Bitch!'
I tuned ny inner sarcasm out long enough to hear tall, dark and impailed's latest attenpt at being funny and charming, which, wasn't all that bad... kind of sweet in that way that makes you want to drive a palm through your forehead. ('Or vines through his chest, oh wait,you did that already, right genius?') Still I have to give him points for it being the sweetest thing someone has said to me in ages that was not followed by "Yes Mistress Ivy."
'Ugh, how sad is that'
'Do you really want me to answer that? Because I can you know!'
'You have done more than enough thank you very much, sometimes I wish there was a switch to just turn you... you... you...'
Well, looks like I got my wish, because just then, I finally looked up.
He was gorgeous, and I don't mean cute guy who just started at the coffee shop gorgeous, but somewhere between amused jungle cat, and living work of art gorgeous. He had rich deeply tanned tumeric skin, that while it looked like it SHOULD be weathered in some fashion (it was the type of skin you only get when you spend a life under the sun.) It was smooth and flawless, and had just a slight natural bronzing that really braught home that whole statue brought to life feel. His face was strong and chiseled, yet I was pleased to see that, while he looked like some sort of living greek god (Niether Wonder Woman nor Cersei think too highly of me, so I probably won't get the chance to confirm that), he did not have the "indestructable chin" as Harley once called the famed face of the Man of Steel.
His hair, which was only upon his head and eyebrows, (since he seemed entirely devoid of facial hair) was a stunning shade of glistening midnight black. It fell loosely to his shoulders, and made him look like Adonis' mediteranian cousin. He also for some reason wore a pair of dark green sunglasses, which I obviously find odd. Noticing my raised eyebrow directed toward his eyewear he attempted to chuckle, to his credit, he succeeded more than someone in his position should be able to.
"Let me guess, you find the sunglasses somewhat strange?"
His voice, so smooth and deep, filled the space between us, feeling like a tangible extension of the power I felt sleeping within him. It snapped me out of my distracted daze, and braught my mind back to the situation at hand.
'Yeah, because you were too busy staring at him like he was strawberries, cheese cake, and world peace in smoothy form.'
'I was not STARING!'
'Whose jaw is this then? You hit him in the chest remember? He still has the hole and everything if you don't believe me.'
'Not that I blame you though. After all the last time you heard something that did not end in "Yes Mistress Ivy" coming from your bed was almost...'
'SHUT UP!'
So as you can imagine I just nodded. ('While blushing') Came the expected sing-song reply.
'SHUT UP!'
"Yes, they are slightly strange, though they are nowhere near as distracting as the hole to be honest."
"In my defense, the hole was not exactly my idea in the first place; in truth, it was something of an impulse decision."
His tone was mirthful, rich and dry, but there was always that hint of something dancing in his voice, that assurance that things could go appocalypticlly bad at a moment's notice.
'Please, PLEASE, don't let me die as the punchline to a pun' Came the remarkably fervent prayers of my subconsious. With top rate crazies like the Joker around, it is somewhat understandable that I do not want to die as someone's attempt at hunor.
"Still, I do concede your points, both about the hole, and my choice of eyewear. Tell you what Miss Ivy, if it would make you more at ease I could dispense with both, so long as we can stop trying to kill one another for now. Are these terms acceptable to you?"
"Yes. they are. Though I must ask what ARE you? I mean anyone else holding onto as much power as I can feel coming off of you from The Green would be nothing but stardust and memories by now."
His eyes widened for a moment at that, I could tell because one of his dark eyebrows shot up in clear suprise. Oh God, he didn't know that I could feel his powers, not until I told him. I may have just made myself a threat to someone I am very certain is at least slightly mad. I have seen it in The Joker and Harley, I have seen it in Crane, and so many others, even the mirror some days, as much as I try to deny it. Madness, that is what is dancing at the corners of his eyes, madness, and I just put him into a corner. I really did not want to admit it to myself, but in all honesty there was only one other man who has ever made me feel this frightened and powerless. Not even Gotham's Dark Knight has managed that. Sure, he has beaten me before, bested my powers with his will alone, and even humiliated me to an extent, but he would never kill me, he would eternally be trying to redeem me, I never knew how comforting that thought was until now. No, the only man to EVER scared me this much, was the man I hated more than any other, the man who made me who I am.
Jason Woodrue.
Even now the thought of his name was like the most vile curse that I could spit at any living being, he both made, and destroyed me. Pamela Isley died the night Poison Ivy was born, her foolish, fragile dreams ripped away by the man she thought she loved, whom Ithought I loved. Yet he betrayed me, left me to die, after trying to kill me, that was the night I learned trust was not a luxury I could afford. And yet, here I am, once more dealing with The Devil.
Oddly enough he stuck something of a thinking pose, the gaping hole still in his chest making him look like some grand Shakespearian actor chosen to play Death. If Death wore green, which many of my former foes would swear she does, if they could. Still even if I had stained my hands with blood, it had always been the blood of the guilty, those who defile their sacred Mother and give it not a second thought. Yet could I be sure that this man did the same? He had killed so easily, almost languidly, could such a man still follow a code?
Or was my fear that the only law left was survival of the fittest well founded?
Exhaling slowly, he seemed to come to a decision, and before I could do anything but flinch in startled suprise; his entire figure was haloed in deep green light. As the light faded away I noted he no longer wore the all concealing green robe that had been his previous attire. Instead he now wore a deep forest green open, rooled leather vest, and a pair of matching green silk pants that looked to be done in classic Araibian style. He also wore no shoes, his feet were muscular amd defined. amd they gripped the earth with the sureness of a mountain goat. On the plus side this meant that an amazing amount of his physique was now revealed, so I happily drank it in; to look for weaknesses of course!
'Right, weaknesses', came the totally convinced voice of my inner smartass.
Honestly, being compared to a statue did not do him justice.
He was all perfectly balanced athletic muscle; lean and hard, but never bulky. He was like one of the great hunting cats, a graceful killer out to seek his prey. From a set of eight pack abs, which seemed to have ordered their own abs if his sides were any indication, to the long powerful marathon runner's legs I could see even beneath his loose billowing trowsers, he looked for all the world like some glorious otherworldly apperision. He was as tall, if not perhaps even an inch taller than the Man of Steel himself, which meant he was an entire fourteen inches taller than me, which when combined with his deadly stature made me slightly apprihensive to say the least.
He than did two seperate things that, I think, were meant to put me at ease. First, he smiled revealing perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth. They almost shone slightly, like the kind dentists dream of. Last, but certainly not least, he removed those silly green glasses of his, revealing that he currently had his eyes closed, grinning at me like a loon.
'Yeah, maybe if they've started serving loon in a new extra beef manwich from the Arkham cafeteria.' Chirped the voice in my head, more than happy to remind me that this whole encounter was hell on my hormones as well as my nerves.
Then he opened those eyes, and part of my soul despaired; for it was truly lost.
There was no cornea, no pupil, nothing to confuse those burning metalic silver eyes with anything mortal. They seared into my soul, eclipsing his frame, his smile, slowly, every other sensation in the world fell away; until the only things that existed in my world at that moment were those molten quicksilver orbs. I tried to look at something, anything else, but no matter how hard I tried my eyes just stayed rivited on his own, prisoners of those merrily dancing silver mirrors. Some deep primal urge in the depths of my conciousness bid me to look away, to run, but I could not, I stood there transfixed as those inhuman eyes scanned my very soul.
It was at that point that my eyes finally landed upon a distraction suitable enough to tear me out of my ensorcelled daydream, his ears, were slim, graceful, and pointed. Not partially pointed like those halloween ears that some costumes come with, but full sweeping natural points, like some sort of elfin creature.
"You're not human."
I hated myself for how quiet and awed my voice sounded at that moment, Mother Nature does not get crushes like some mere schoolgirl! Yet the words of my accusation hung in the air between us as he just continued to smile and wait for me to get my bearings.
Then I heard it, from deep in his chest, building like the quiet roll of distant thunder, until laughter exploded from his lips, rich, dark and musical, as if I had just told him the most amusing joke he had ever heard. His next words almost struck me with the gentle humor and light reproof they displayed, but where I feared him purely as a preditor before, there was something in that voice, and those eyes, that pleaded with me to trust him.
Or maybe just to surrender my heart and soul, you can never tell with random men who go avout their day dressed as robed figures.
" I would have thought that such an observation would be a given at this point, but yes, to answer both an asked, and unasked question; I am neither human, nor am I originally from this world."
"Well stranger, if you are in the mood to answer questions, than would you be opposed to telling me who and what you are?" I tried to keep as much of the nervousness and suspiction out of my voice as possible. Instead opted for a practiced suductive tone I have developed over the years, after all he had already stated he found me attractive, and when you cannot beat an opponent with brute strength, the best solution is to have them defeat themselves.
Deciding that whatever place he came from clearly still held a facination with the feminine form, I decided to step up my tactics a little, I had to keep him off balance, at least a little, for whatever else he was, he was still perceptive. So gathering my wits and charms about me, I fixed him with the most smoldering look I could manage without abandoning all hints of playful innocence. Dipping my voice into a slightly husky whisper I peticularly like to use to suspend the higher brain fuctions of my intended prey.
Somewhere inside I still knew this was a very dangerous game, it was entirely possible he could see through me, those eyes of his certainly gave the impression they could. Fighting off a shiver and banishing my doubts, I prepared play my remaining hand. Deciding at the last moment I needed something special to win the information I sought, I somewhat impersonated his own manurisms, throwing a bit of a belle twist to drive home my point.
"Why, I would be ever so obliged if you could enlighten me with this information, for I find myself dreadfully curious?" I let those words roll off my tongue teasingly before deciding to move in for the kill. Making sure to stare straight into those bewitching quicksilver pools. I pouted batted my eyelashes and whispered "Please"
If I was left with but one hand to play, I would play the cards and game I knew best.
A single moment passed in stunned silience. Then, I recieved the most satisfying sight of my usually calm, collected, and cultured adversary, temporarily and utterly dumbstruck. He just stared at me for several moments before a dazzling, and positively vulpine smile curled onto his features. His liquid silver eyes positively danced with joy, mirth, and, respect? It was hard to keep trrack of everything portrayed by those strange expressive eyes, but one thing beyond all else sank into my mind.
I had won this round of our game, and we both knew it.
"Oh you marvelously majestic, mischievious minx! I do not believe I have it in me to refuse such a compelling request. Very well thou most beautious rose of beguilement! In recognition of a bargin well struck, I shall not only answer these questions of yours, but a total of eighteen more beyond them, as long as they are asked in the space of this single eve. A score of questions for a point well scored, and won; is this bargin acceptable to thee, Pamela Lillian Isley?"
'That, is SO not fair!'
The way his voice rolled over everything, in that smooth deep dark tone of his was absolutely criminal. I had heard him using its enchanted melodies to tease me, to flirt with me, and to enlighten me. But merciful Goddess, that was the first time he had ever used it to say my name. Sure, being called Miss Ivy was kind of exciting, it was alike enough to my usual title to still give that feeling of control, but was also often tasing and amused. This, this was my full given name, and no one used that anymore, no one.
It is not even just the fact that he would call me by it that has me trembling inside, no, that would be too easy. Its the way he makes it sound, like that smooth as honey voice is caressing the sylibles, feeling the way the very words fit together so that their utterance can ensnare my soul!
Stil, I am Poison Ivy, I will not be outdone by some silver tongued man with pretty words.
"I happily accept your most gracious bargin good sir. Though I am curious about that, the bargins I mean, but I do believe there is the matter of my first two questions? I gave him the most charming smile I could manage, which curiously was not all that difficult. As odd as it may seem, as terrified as I have been at many points so far tonight, I was still having fun.
That got me thinking. (incoming introspective mind bombs alert, proceed with caution)
Ivy's Mindscape
As strange as it feels admitting this to myself, I have a theory as to why that is.
The girl I used to be, the trusting innocent, love struck fool, she died when Jason betrayed me, she could not survive the horror and pain of her beloved abandoning her, and perished. The woman I am now, Poison Ivy, she first began to take shape that night, cunning,
seductive, confident, she is everything I was too afraid to be when I was Pamela. Pam died without knowing what it was like to have her feelings returned, so she couldn't understand love except by desire, possession, and heartbreak. This also meant that the person I am
now has never gotten to truly understand love except as a mirroed reflection of my own lost desires, thus my need for control. And all this time I have spent as Poison Ivy I have never met someone who could challenge me, and desired me for any reason other than my powers or appearance. Sure The Batman is an intriguing speciman of the male species, but he will never see me as anything more than a damsel wrapped in a puzzle. A lost cause that only he, the saintly Dark Knight of G0tham can save.
Batman wants to save me, to change me, but he doesn't want ME.
Now here enters a man, a powerful, unknown, dangerous man, who can actually step into what I consider my arenas of expertise and not only hold his own but CHALLENGE me? I had forgotten how much I missed a reaction that falls outside the realm of naked lust, fear, or mindless submission, I had forgotten the thrill of the hunt, and the dance that went with it. For the first time in months, I felt alive.
'Awww Red, that's so CUTE! Who would have known that even big bad Poison Ivy wants someone who can love her for who she is' This was said in a style and voice I would know anywhere.
'Dammit Harley! What are you doing in my head? Hasn't this day been crazy enough?'
'Don't ask me Red, its your head after all, but if I had to take a guess...' She trailed off for a moment and, I swear, I could just see her comiclly exagerated thinking pose as she continued. 'See I figure that your brain chose me to help you explain this because it deals with a part of your brain you have trained yourself to ignore. Erego not mattah how precise an argument you make to yourself you can always find a flaw in your own reasoning. Which is why you need l'il old me, see you mind has this crazy idea that I am so uttahly random and chaotic that no one could really form a logical argument against anything I say! Since it wouldn't work, between me bein' nuts, and not even really here in the first place right?' Plus there is the whole fact that I actually used ta BE a psychologist. Plus I am absolutely crazy, and one of the best things about being crazy is that I can say things for you that will hit you with inspiration when you least expect it, outta nowhere. Kinda like good knockout gas!'
She said that with one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen on her face.
This, is who my inner psyche had sent to help me navigate the pitfalls of my emotional madness... I was doomed.
I stared at her deadpan, saying nothing. But Harley, being Harley, bulldozed nerrily along regardless of my expression.
'Basiclly you need me to tell you the truths that scare you about yourself, both because on some instinctual level you trust me cuz we're friends, and because as your friend I am the only one you have evah talked about this with otha then you Mom, and ah, you know how that would go.'
That, was NOT an option.
'See what I mean, ya need me! Now the other reason you need me is because this has to do with your pretty much numero uno biggest fear, something so big you are afraid to even think about it.
' The fact that the human race is so stupid and arrogant as a whole that they have choosen to see themselves as seperate from the world around them and thus feel nothing for its wanton and careless destruction at the hands 0f their mindless ambitions?'
'No Red, biggah, you know both what, and whom I am talkin' about, and just because I wear a clown suit does not mean I like to run around all day.'
The look on her face was so sad, so serious, so sorry, it was so much the opposite of the crazy spunky spitfire I knew Harley to be. But it was a look I'd seen before, Hell maybe only I had ever seen it before, it was the ;look Harley used so rarely that I could count them on one hand in all the time we had been friends. Harley was being deadly serious.
There was a large part of me that was afraid, very afraid.
'They're not the same person Red, I know it feels like it, because this is the first time since he hurt you that you've felt helpless, and it scares the Hell out of ya.'
'I am NOT helpless!' The words echoed in my head, the fury, the rage, the accusation, the hollow heat trying to mask the truth.
'See Red? That's why you need me, because you can't trust anyone else and you are too scared to face it alone.' She paused for a moment before breaking into fits of deeply amused laughter. |I'm like a much sexiah and feminine version of The Great Gazoo!'
She snapped her fingers and spun in a complete circle, there was a bright flash of light and suddenly the version of Harley in my mind was clothed in a nurse's outfit I had seen her wear once (Arkham Asylum ftw!) before proclaiming inn a sage tone, one finger presented before her victoriously. 'Yep. definitely sexiah!'
'Harley!'
' Hey Red do you have an extra pair a' boots around here that would go with this outfit? I can't find mine for some reason'
Harley!
' Oh wait here they are!'
Harley!
'Yeah Red? Oh wait! Hold on to that thought Red, cuz it looks like that man with the rocket launcher wants to talk to ya guys! Bye!'
wait, rocket launcher?
It was at that precise moment that everything exploded in a giant conflaguration of fire and death.
Robed Figure's POV
I watched in rapt attention for a moment studying the magnificent beauty that stood before me. I could see so many things dance about her, so much potential for something truly great, even more amazing than she was now. I could feel the deep conflict of her emotional state. Her enjoyment of this wonderful dance we were having, her glee at having bested me in a war of words (and aptly done I might add.) Her happiness at being able to truly connect with someone even in a situation this strange, and of course her fear.
No matter how hard I tried it seemed there would always be that peticular emotion thrown in the mix when it came to someone like me. It actually even beats out the sheer number of times people who meet me try to kill me, one might suggest a connection but I trynot to be cynical. Sadly the fact that it beats out the number of attempts on my life does make it astrinomicly impressive.
Simply put, her instincts are too good for her NOT to be afraid.
Somehow this young lady can sense my untapped potential Mana, as opposed to Mana I am currently drawing upon which is an advanced mystical sensory technique if nothing else. Perhaps it is her mention of a connection to The Green, whatever governs such a force in
this world must be innately mystical in nature, even if her powers were awakened by science. That bears further examination and consideration at some later point, but at the moment...
I have a bargin to keep with a ravishingly beautiful woman.
"Well love, what I am is far more essential as a question and is also needed to tell you who I am, so..."
Sadly it was at this moment that I heard a gruff male voice, with a completely untracable accent call out from behind us.
"Who you are is the targets my robed friend, (What? Did you really think I would let anyone I did not wish to see my face, I am not so easily discovered.) and who you are, is someone who is completely fucked."
As tall dark and creepy said that last gem, he pulled the trigger on his military issue rocket launcher, as did several of his friends; whom all fired their own weapons of firey fury.
And the world, began to burn.
And CUT!
Thoughts and impressions revealed while still leaving far too much emotional tension. (check)

Present a more honest emotional conflict than "Ug like you, you pretty, lets go fuck now" (check)

Find a way to throw Harley into the story even if she is not there, because she is both just that crazy, and just that awesome! (check)

Prove that comic book characters can think and say a metruc fuckton in a matter of seconds even when (especially when) in life gripping peril! (check)

Leave it at a great moment to pick up next time so that I can deliver on my promise for asskicking, action, and fire, oh so much fire. (check)
By these powers combined I summon,
Cliffhanger no jutsu!
Next Episode: Fire from the Sky/ Walking in a Crimson Wonderland.
Dibbley away! Peace out all, read and review, because a story is just words without you.

And of course, to those that must hate and flame becuse they are lame, suck my fic.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Planar Overlay: Two Worlds, One Fate