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
- 2
- 3
Happy New Year to one and all! And what does the new year hold in stoe for thee you ask? Why Fire, violance, wit, and explosions, so don't worry boys and girls! We're gonna have a blast!
Important note! As in EVERY chapter from now on I urge you to make use of the site http://gatherer.wizards.com/Pages/Default.aspx if you have any questions on the Magic the Gathering aspect of things, since even though I will try to explain things sometimes seeing the cards helps. Also, since Magic the Gathering is the entire source for THIS Avatar's powers, it will help to know the cards, thankfully all you have to do is paste any of my spell or ability names into Gatherer and it will tell you more than I can without being even more boring than I already am. (Auidible Gasp!)
Ok, so here we are with chapter three, and I am sure already there are some of you that cannot stand something. Be it my OC with his tough to sell attitude, at this moment vague explainations of why he is so powerful, or his ungodly need for long windedness even while ripping someone's throat out. You may wonder why I choose to do the character from a point other than his origins, since it seems as if I am just saying "This character is badass because I say so" And yeah, as a matter of fact, until his origins are explained it will come off like that, and I dont really feel the need to appologize for that, because comics do that all the time, it is only since the eighties or so that cominc books even decided to make what little chronological sense they do. Add to that that my main character is a time traveling incarnation of pure magic who can step between worlds like mortals can breathe, and yeah, I can see why you scream OP. But he is nowhere near the only Planeswalker, and any of them will be capible of the same, so people like The Pheonix, The Silver Serfer, Doctor Strange, Trigon the Demon Conquerer, and so many more, are going to find themselves with some Planeswalker Magic, and even more power than you might remember.
Why do this you ask? Because Planeswalkers are FUCKING AWESOME! An Incarnation of pure Magic that is capible of fighting over the fate of a hundred different worlds at once? A being so powerful that the very act of becoming one means you DIE yet your Magic is so powerful that it litterally allows you to accend into being a being made of pure Mana? Oh yeah, then there is the fact that the transition between the two makes you go BAT SHIT CRAZY, almost inevitably forming one or more life long obsessions that can drive your actions on an almost instinctual level? Fuck YES! Why have a powerful wizard that ALWAYS makes the best use of his powers? Why just write another cut and paste collection of Anime powers with a hero complex and a desire to find love, when I can try and write the sheer nutty goodness of one of these motherfuckers? Oh, and for those of you who hate the veiw point of this character, not only will it change and grow as he himself evolves, but since he is what is known as an Incarnation, or Avatar, he is only one piece of a larger whole, memories and Magic tied to a purpose and sent off to a this world for reasons I will show as we go. So yes, this character is OP, but so is every single Planeswalker in existance, and The Enemy, makes them all look like happy fun time kittens, so yeah, there shall be insanity.
That said, how can a plain vanilla mortal prevail against a Planeswalker? By out thinking them! Even a Planeswalker that can read your every thought is still, even at this very moment present on several worlds at once, distraction is their biggest enemy other than their egos and certainty in their own Power. It also helps to learn that every Planeswalker must keep their word, or destroy some of their own Power, and when you are literally a being MADE of Mana, that is a very real conciquince.
Am I going to fuck this up? Most likely, I mean I am a new writer doing his first official fic, and already I want to include two entirely opposing Avatars in this story alone, and am working on several other stories, all like their own comic book title on their own plane Eg: Harry Potter and The Planeswalker's Favor, which will be the second story I attempt after this one is well underway. I am taking bits and pieces from ANYTHING DC and Marvel I can melt in a pot and add some epic to. I will be doing twists on a lot of episodes, arcs, and storylines from anywhere, and everywhere.
Now, why the FUCK did I mention Earth 17 way back in Chapter One? Because, that is where we are. DC states that the world of Young Justice was Earth 16, so my sarcastic ass got to thinking, well since I am going to be doing a lot of Teen Titans, Young Justice, X Men Evolution Batman TAS, and so on, why not call my Earth Earth 17, both because it is an undefined Earth in the New 52 Universe, meaning that when I crash Marvel right into that motherfukcer and mix the whole thing of frappe, no one can bitch at me for ruining an established world, just my own damn story. Not only that, but since there will be a LOT of Teenage characters in this fic I thought it was a terrible pun, so I included it, becuase Holy Snapping Assholes Batman! Comics, LOVE terrible puns!
Update: Oh my God did I find so many things wrong with this chapter AFTER I posted it, ack that's what I get for posting after writing for basiclly an entire day without sleep. My deepest apologies to both my readers, and my story, all of you deserve to see better from me.
But enough of my blather! On with the show!
"Speech"

'Thiught bubbles'

Spells and Abilities

Scene Shifts amd Locations
Disclaimer: I do not own Magic the Gathering, Marvel Comics, DC Comics or anything other than the OCs I use and the twists and turns in my own head.
Chapter Three: Fire from the Sky/Walking in a Crimson Wonderland
Smith Stone and Smythe Waste Treatment Facility Gotham City
"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.
The Robed Figure's POV
They say your entire life flashes before your eyes when you are about to die. And speaking from the prospective of someone who has techniclly died once, I can tell you that this is true, more or less. However as it turns out, when you possess eyes that have been cursed to endlessly Scry forth into the future, as mine have. And you also spend a great majority of your time with everyone attempting to viciously murder you in a contonious and inventive variety of ways, as I am prone to do, well, it turns out that the whole process tends to get rather repeditive. So, although I know it could be considered rude, I hope these gentlemen do not take it too unkindly if I just skip to the part where they bigin to realize this was a truly colossal mistake on thier part.
As it turns out, I am also not very fond of being inturrupted in the midst of a truly rousing conversation. Let alone one with a young woman who is arguably the most ravishingly fetching creature I have been blessed to look upon in centuries. Therefore, I found this untimely intrusion to be wholely and utterly rude upon the part of these ruffians. I do not care that their presence is related to my original purpose for coming. Hell as far as I am concerned if they have the drop on us so completely they should use that time accordingly to assure we die swiftly. For one thing any of my many foes could tell you about me, provided you can find some who are still alive; would be.
I do NOT tolerate rudeness.
Still I was somewhat divided on my level of response to the situation, though I had already commited to assisting Poison Ivy, I also had my own well being and continued obfusation to consider. Was I truly ready to abandon secrecy and caution so carlessly? And for a woman I barely know no less, regardless of my viewing of her history, our intriguing commonalities, and whatever initial chemistry may exist between us? Was my repressed desire to be in the company of someone who could understand me so utterly overwhelming that I would willingly not just engage in battle, but in wholesale slaughter, to see it done? Even if that cost me my veil of shadows, my secrecy whch currently cloaked me from the mystic forces of this world? Was I willing to reveal myself knowing what it would mean? The fear, the hate, the endless fighting, as everything around me tries to kill or control me? It was always thus when one of Us came to a world, how would this be any different? My kind, not insofar as my race, so much as what I had become, was so synonomous with strife and battle, regarldess of our intentions, that neigh everyone, and everything feared us. And as much as I hated to admit it, they were completely justified to do so.
So was that it then? Was I truly going to risk all of that, for a young lady who had already tried to kill me once tonight, and whom I was willing to bet even money was going to do so again, out of fear or fury, before the night was through? It would be a path of absolute madness, and I knew it! For what lay at its end, even the shadow of its possibility, was perhaps the greatest madness of all.
My condition also grants me some very unique insights into a suprising array of affairs. That being said no amount of foreknowledge could have really prepared me for what awaited me, in fact upon later reflection I would always find the sheer certaintly of the next events a strange mix of brutal and beautiful. For at that moment, I looked back and met the gaze of my unlikely companion for the evening.
All it took was that one glance, into those glorious green eyes to set my path in such unshakeble resolve, as to be unassailable by the mere considerations of Gods and Men. Those wonderously wide, gorgeous green orbs covayed so much within them in those next few seconds that their echo may indeed haunt me for all of time.
There was. of course, the expected response of terror that one might expect given our possible, if not probible impending doom. However, it was all the things I saw dancing in the shadows beyond that terror called me, nay, compelled me to act. I saw so very much sadness in those eyes, though one might be suprised that much of that sorrow seemed to be more for the innocent plants whom would be caught up in the hellfire than herself. That is not to say that her own primal instincts of survival were in any way dulled, oh no, even now I could see the scientest in her making the best possible use of her instincts, intuition and knowledge. Darwin himself would be proud at the sheer speed at which I saw equatiions and factors flash through her eyes, trying with all of her innate brilliance to find a solution that did not end in her and her children being burned alive. That was the source of so much of her sorrow then, the maternal feeling of loss, knowing she might fail those she saw as loved ones whose screams only she could hear.
There was rage in those beautiful eyes as well, such a deep and living thing, stoked over years of watching Mankind so viciously mistreat everything around him. As if sentiance and the ability to form sentances was some pale excuse that explained extiction. I saw the hate for their hubris and arrogance. The brash unthinking way they persecuted anyone that looked like them, and treated anything that did not worse than dirt. And though it should not be possible to mistreat dirt, but, oh lo and behold for they had found a way! By letting poisonous chemicals and radioactive waste finish what blind stupidity began. But to die to fire? I could see the bitter expression written across her face at the thought of that. Fire was something natural, something that was meant to destroy but in so doing create the way for new possibilities of life.
Yet ever since the apes learned that burning things was both amusing and effective, they had used it to shamelessly scorch their environment, Only carimg if they could make the scars large enough for others to see. Worthless animals always scratching their names in things to delude themselves into a sense of immortality. Whilst praying desperately to whatever deaf God who would not listen to them today. All in a vain attempt to try and provide an illusion of meaning to their short brutal lives . Something that would confirm them to be more special than other forms of life, since it was so abundently clear to them that they were. She detested the flames Prealized, to have lost so many of her children and so much of her life to the burning terror of other's foolishness was a slap in the face. To burn alive, to be consumed by raging flames wielded by the uncaring hands of ignorent men, would be the ultimate insult to someone like Poison Ivy.
Yet it was what those haunted green eyes saw when they looked at me that began to awaken my Spark, and cause my very Mana itself, the source of my Power, to scream for release.
While there was still a shadow of fear dancing in those orbs when they considered me, there was also something else, something new, desperate and unsure. It flickered and danced in that eternal moment that allowed people like me to act at the speed of an Instant. It was so beautiful, so forign to me, but not as something new, but as something lost, like a memory calling from beyond earshot. It was vaulnrable but undeniable, it was frail and yet fierce, it was what all people cried out for in the night, more than love, more than justice, more than life!
It was hope.
I knew it was a mere matter of convienient survival, the perfect primal personification of the phrase "The Enemy of my Enemy is my Friend" At this moment though I did not care for such cynical distinctions, for it was not merely my mind that responded to that most unlikely light. Right now, in this moment that was about to explode into such visceral and voratious violence, in this moment a woman who had spent years training herself to believe in nothing but her mission and her 'babies' was looking at me with an emotion she herself must have been terrifed, or horrified of feeling.
I felt the last of my restraint, the last of my concerns drain away. I was over thinking this, I knew what to do, everything and everyone that uderstood what I really was, wanted me dead, that just came with the territory, but so to did another unspoken law of my kind.
'You never yield a battle to a foe without contest, you never allow someone to harm what is precious to you, and if they do, destroy them utterly.'
They had hurt Ivy by hatching this scheme, by putting her in the crossfire just because she would fight for beings no one else was willing to defend. Humanity had taken everything from her, and was about to do so again, with the fiinal price being her pride, knowing how she had failed, and then her life. But this woman, that these INSECTS called a villan, was looking at me with hope. It had been a thousand years since anyone looked at ME with hope.
Right here, right now, that made her VERY precious to me.
Now though my words might betray my sentiment, I am at my heart a primordial being, an incarnation of the very might of Nature. As a result I follow the law of no man, and no God. I believe only in what I see with my own eyes, and I only believe in three truly eternal forces. Those of Life, Death, and Conflict. Behind me, with aubern hair and dazzling green eyes, stood Life, and before us was Conflict... Sadly for my foes, this left only Death. It was time to show them why every single being who attains my station is viewed with hate, suspiction and fear. It was time, first to protect, then, to kill.
" Miss Ivy, if you would be so kind as to stand aside and allow me to deal with this pointless trash I would be most obliged."
Third Person, Battle Perspective (Please lower your 3d glasses, crank the sound up to 11, and set Effects to AWESOME!)
His Mana roared to life in his hands, so ready to strike at those who dared to dispoil this world so. For Mana comes from the Land, there cannot be one for long without the other, it has always been so, and Nature willing, it would ever be so. Having choosen to forgo subtilty in favor of a display of supremacy, skill, and cunning; he drew deeply upon four of the five Coulors of Magic. As if it had gone from midnight to midafternoon, the world snapped into perfect and clear focus. Gathering his will about him with grim resolve he let his voice be filled with the full weight of hus authority, strength, and power. His voice rang with the first of the Colours he had drawn, the clear ringing baritone echoed with a booming crack, for infused with the power of his White Mana, his voice became Law.
"Carmine Falcone! By your act of spineless cowardace you have declaired four locations to be our be our Battlefields this night; let this place be the first! Woe betide you Crime Lord! For you have come at me and those under my protection, with trickery and fear reeking in your actions. As you have no duelist's pride, I decline to tell you my name, so that I may one day carve it into your worthless corpse! Now witness what I think of the power of your precious technology, bothersome insects!"
"Prismatic Strands the shade of Desire! I summon thee forth to quell this Fire!"
Thin, mystical strands of all the chromatic colours of the rainbow now spilled from his hands, like some great spool of rainbow hued thread. They spun and wove around every bit of the current Battlefield, enshrouding everything. And where they touched flame they quenched it, stole its heat and form, its substance and energy, each strand turning a beautiful crimson as it did so. Explosions and shrapnel were swallowed, fire was extinguished, the entire assult was simply momentarily completely dispelled.
Moments last forever when you move between seconds, just ask The Flash. (whichever of the three currently on Earth you can find,speedy little buggers.)
"You know, you should not have over played your hand so carelessly, had you been more skillful we would be dead already, but alas, you are unfit for that honor. So please allow me to show you all the depth of your errors this evening."
"Let fly thy silvery rage upon those who would dare threaten someone 'neath my protective Ward! With haste, be well placed, and recieve my Quicksilver Daggers as their just reward"
A liquid silver glow very simillar to the hue of his eyes wrapped about the figures hands, then, soundlessly at first, but with quicker and quicker snaps and screams of velocity silver daggers began to fly toward over a dozen of the nearest targets at beyond lightning speeds.
Not ususally this effective a tactic on its own, Quicksilver Daggers could be lethal when combined with a spell that allowed to throw as many of them as he had Mana to produce. A spell for example such as his still golden mantle of Pemmin's Aura, which would allow him to complete a nearly infinite number of actions, as long as he had the Mana to back it up. In fact, only one thing was really missing before he could turn this into the kind of display that would act as a warning scrawled in scarlet to any of the criminal underworld who thought that anything like this was EVER a good idea.
Suffice to say, the missing element was not a lack of Mana. No he had that in spades right now, for he had drawn so much that he would not be suprised if every Magical, in the city of Gotham, both mortal and otherwise, could feel his presence by now. Even if they did not they soon would, but no matter, that was for another time.
He next braught forth his memories of the Land for a Colour he had not used much of here since his arrival, he had a certain number of personal and intellectual reasons for avoiding this Colour at the moment, for his companion did not approve of one of the forces most directly under its sway, that of Fire. Nonetheless, he felt the power of the Mountains roar in his vains like Dragon fire, hot and furious, demanding retribution and violence for their transgressions. Red Mana came to his call with ease, his own fury drawing it in like a magnet.
The smooth and booming voice echoed now with rage, with fire, and passion, words slipping naturally into the showman's ways he was taught to mislead people into believing such pagentry was neccissary for his Magic.
" I swear to you all, that the bloodshed shall not halt, until you have all fallen under my Aggrivated Assault!" As if those very words had been the seal to the bloody crimson gates of Hell themselves, the sreaming and death began.
The first man to die was something of a cynical sort. Surely this man, no matter how easily he had halted their initial progress, did not believe he could actually kill them all? Such a thoght was absolutely... unfinished, because by the time his thoughts reached this pont; a shining quicksilver spike as long as his forearm plunged through the central mass of his skull. The dagger was not halted by bone, nore brain matter, and continued its trejectory, cleaving a skull behind in its wake that resembled a cored apple.
"What the fu--"
Was all the man standing behind him managed to stutter out before the, still flying, spattered spike sunk deep into the second figure's chest. Since he was well over a foot taller than the first man, whom was in comparrison rather short. The first of the deadly
Quicksilver Daggers finally stopped, quivering in the chest of the second man like a javelin turned tuning fork. He reached with trembling hands to try and grasp it, but to no avail, he died from bloodloss before his hands could gain purchase, wide terrified eyes staring signtless and dead into the abyss.
Eight more of the deadly silver blades zoomed toward a small knot of men who were seeking to band together and rally the still flat footed thugs around them, Given the difference in sheer reaction speed however, they may as well have been standing still. The first of the doomed thugs felt a sharp pain and then colapsed to the ground cluthing the remains of his torn and shattered throat. As the first nan was wheezing and fountaining blood blood from his wound in a futile attempt to sceam, the man to either side of him recieverd a silvery railroad spike through the left, and right eyes respectively. Having put enough force behind the objects to allow them to punch through ten feet of solid concrete (between the overall force, and the fact that Physics is Magic's personal bitch)
A man whom the Robed Figure's Scrying eyes revealed to be a rapist died a peticularlly grusome death a moment later. He had managed to turn in the eternal seconds of the opening conflict, realizing that his only slim chance to live was to run, and hope. He need not have bothered, while he did not bother much with morality for the sake of other people's opinions, rape was a slight against the very sacred nature of :Life itself, and between sentient beings was the highest violation of trust and decency. While public opinion mattered about as much to him as the blood of the unworthy currently soaking his hands, the sanctity of Life DID matter to him a great deal. Thus it was that the fleeing man was taken by two spikes, one in each leg at mid thigh. Whilst he screamed and bled, the spike that was to be his doom, a massive spike nearly matching the dimensions of his arm (only far more pointy) levelled itself menicingly at his anus, and fired forward fast enough to cause a small sonic boom. The most horrendious scream heard yet that night issued forth from the mouth of the misfortunate monster, for what remained was a horror to behold.
His arteries had been pierced when the first spikes entered his thighs, but when he was hit by the mach speed improvised ramrod, the results werein a word, catastrophic his entire pelvic region splintered and shattered as if hit directly by a balista bolt. Fragments of bone and blood exploded fron his groin, his testicles were first shreded by shrapnel then pulped into paste by impact. His penis proper was impailed, sheered, than bludgeoned into additional paste by the comination of bone, meat and metal. He died screaming, and he bled out in seconds, succunbing to blood loss. But for both the Figure, and the man, experiencing time in the infanite vastness of instants, his torment may as well have lasted forever.
Before the other Quicksilver Daggers yet in flight had found happy homes in which to rust, the Robed Figure was already on the move, appearing in a burst of speed beside his next victim. The poor criminal still staring at the assortment of meat and blood that was once his friend, hand no time to think on the certainty of his death or anything else, as his neck was snapped to the side with enough force to sever his spine and rip the skull free of its moorings.
Flaring the pure destructive power of his Red Mana, he poured a rediculious anount of explosive force into the grisley trophy in his hands, turning it into an improvised explosive. Hefting the Fireball infused skull high by its still attached scalp, he sent the head sailing straight into the midst of a score of startled men, standing over two hundred feet away. The head exploded less than a second later, driving a combination of magical flames, searing hot liquid blood and organs, and of course, blackened bits of blast propelled bone into the midst of the twenty stunned men, who had just enough time to scream before they too were added to the tidal wave of twisted and seared body parts.
The final surviver of the original group had just about freed his radio to summon assistance, when the final two Quicksilver Daggers, deciding that his heart looked happy enough for them to share, plungged home with a pair of sickening thuds. Able now to spend what time they had left before dispelling as scar crossed lovers.
With a little over half of this facility's hostile life signatures now neautralized, the Robed Figure paused a moment to consider how to best deal with as many of the remaining foes as swiftly as possible when he noted something intersting, of the twenty one criminals still alive at this location, fifteen of them had some form of artificial device instead of a normal heart. He wondered how much of it was poor choices on the parts of the recipiants, or if being shot in the heart was a more common hazard in the criminal perfession than he at first believed. Still these, pace makers served as a wonderful common denominator for someone with access to Red Mana.
Drinking in the magma hot Power that screamed in his viens. The Robed Figure cast his senses toward the strange artificial devices, feeling their mechanics, and weaknessess, Then choosing the spell that would suit the situatiion best. As it happened, since The Enemy
made a great amount of use of both partially, and fully artificial life forms; he had become quite good at breaking technology. Taking a moment to snare each life signatures within his mind's eye, he then uttered a simple command that set off a rather brutal series of events.
"Detonate"
Flaring his Red Mana one last time as a signaling pulse, he watched in grim satisfaction as all fifteen pace makers exploded one after another, if that were not bad enough, since the source of the explosion was Red Mana (known for its exemplerary abilities when it comes to exploding) the results were bloody and violent. The hearts of each man were of course nothing but memories, in fact that was so for pretty much everything within a foot wide radius circle in each victim. The holes were bloody, ragged affairs, bone, lung muscle,nothing had stopped the detonations. So now, where twenty one men had stood only six now remained, their eyes filled with soul crushing fear and terror.
Seeing that so few remained, the Robed Figure coated his hands in Quicksilver, forming two blades from his hands that were only a lttle longer than his original fingers. Closing the distance to the terrified criminals he began to dance.
An arm removed here, a hand, a leg, it did not matter as he spun and slashed through them like a dervish. The near vacinity was transformed into a forest of flayed, falling, neatly severed bits and pieces went flying from them and their screams filled the night, in moments there was but one left, a pale quivering mass of flesh and fear. Then after a quick backhand chop which removed the offender's head entirely, there was naught but silience.
And just like that, there were over fifty people dead in less than two minutes
"I am afraid we must abscond this location Miss Ivy, I fear this is but the opening moves in a very bloody game that has been initiated; with both the Price, and the Prize being your life."
Ivy's Mindscape POV
His voice was so cool, so calm. and so smooth when he proclaimed that he may as well have been giving me a weather forecast, Except. there was a trace of worry in his voice, small, but detectable for someone who spends as much time studying emotional manurisms as I do. His face was a hard mask at the moment, cast in emotional steel to render him prepared for battle, he looked like some insane vengeful incarnation.
' Looked like my foot! Did you SEE that? He tore through them like they were made of tissue paper, that could bleed... alot,'
My ever eloquent inner voice did have something of a valid point. I pride myself in being a primordial mother to all plant based life on this beautiful world. As a result, I have been known to react very badly when something like this happens, and a series of idiotic events threatens the sanctity of Nature. I have even killed my fair share of people, but to be honest I do not enjoy it, I will do it if they have commited sins against our mother to such a degree as I cannot forgive them. or of course, if they are weak willed men too enthralled with their own power, but to see someone utterly butcher those men, it was sobering and frightning, it was primal and wild it was.
'Fucking HOT!'
'What the HELL is wrong with you?'
'Do yoi wamt the list alphabeticlly or chronologiclly?'
''Ugh dom't give me that, you saw what he did, he slaughtered them all! I have not seen anyone kill that casually outside of the League of Shadows or The Joker.'
'Ok, gotta give you that one, that was absolutely bloody terrifying. But before all the blood, there were so many things that happened! Goddess alive smart girl, wern't you paying attention?'
'Before, during, or after the rockets red glare, and the bombs bursting in air?' I shot back at her, more than fed up with having to deal with near death, wholesale butchery, and sarcasm.
*sigh* alright, point taken. But seriously, I know all of the other things going on are distracting, but didn't you give the littlest bit of thought as to WHY he is doing this?
' I don't know, maybe he thinks we have common ground because we are both bonded to The Green, maybe he is bat-shit crazy, and you KNOW how I feel about Bat puns. Maybe he doesn't like when random criminals fire rockets at him while he is talking to girls?'
'All good points, and each of those factors probably played a role in his decsion, but they were not the cause, not the ignition.
'We;ll. since you are so clearly enjoying the ability to be so enormously smug, get on with it if you really have all the answers'
She shot me a heated and indignent glare before continuing. 'He has helped you several times tonight even though he really does not have to, that warning that he JUST gave you after all of that was the only thing he really would have had to do if it was a case of mere common ground. If that were the case though, he could have just stated that in three seconds and been off again, you saw how fast he can move. So why stick around to be shot by rockets, why kill over fifty men without missing a step, then contine to protect someone who tried to kill him?'
'But that's rediculous! I never asked for his help, or his protection, why would he choose to help me? I pondered this with a strange mix of curiousity and frusteration, despite what I had seen and what I could piece together, this man still perplexed me greatly.
' I honestly don't know. I saw him when he looked back at us, he was uncertain why he was getting involved. I could see it, sure we flirted with him and maybe he does like you a little, but its more than that. When you looked at him, just before he stopped everything from trying to kill us with a wave of his hand, I saw something snap in him, like he was no longer choosing his actions; but obeying his instincts. Can you remember what you were feeling when you liiked at him? At that moment, that second just before he decided to kill litterally everything in the vacinity that could even possibly hurt you. And before you argue, remember, he stopped EVERYTHING with one wave of his hand, like a mob of rocket launcher wielding lunatics was as common for him as Space Ivasion Tuesday is in New York. So I somehow doubt he was worried about himself.'
What was I thinking? I don't know how about the fact we were going to burn alive and there wasn't a thing I could do to stop it! About how my babies would be destroyed by a world that could not hear their cries, how it was the deepest and cruelest irony to die by fire. Oh maybe you are wondering at what point I started praying is that it? I was TERRIFIED! How am I supposed to remember exactly what I was thinking? My mind was a mess, Hell, I am pretty sure I even prayed for HIM to help me by the end there so I don't see...' At this point I was shouting fiercely at my other self until she suddenly raised her hand.
That;s it!
What is?
The reason!
What reason?
The reason he helped you!
What? Why?
I then heard the distinct sound of palm loudly meeting forehead, before she looked at me deadpan, and started speaking insultingly slowly. Bitch!
At the moment he looked at you, for just that one moment, you were so much more afraid of what was happening, that you wanted his help, you hoped he would help you.;
Of course I hoped he would help we were about to DIE! I snapped, exasperation getting the better of me.
But that's just it you see? He is so primal, so instinctive, it makes no sense for him to bother helping, unless something about the plea for help he saw in your eyes compelled him to do so.
Compelled? That is an odd choice of words
Not if you were watching his eyes like I was. He snapped, it was like there was no other choice for him once he had reached his decision, as if he had decided to protect you regardless of what may happen. Hell he then proceeded to openly challenge Gotham's most powerful Crime Lord, he declared a war, and has killed fifty six men on what he said would be the first of four battlefields. THEN he told you that it was because Falcone was after your life. There are so many points where he should have just left your plant loving ass to die, but instead, he is defending you.
I swear to God if this is all leading up to some cosmic revelation of how he wants to have sex with me, I am going to stick you into a memory loop of that time they drugged the Riddler with truth serum and he started composing poems about our...'
You wouldn't DARE! She shot back at me, and even though it was indignant and offended, I could tell she was actually afraid of that one.
No, that's not it, not exactly, I mean maybe, and really would that be so bad? I mean he is HOT as hell and willing to kill Goddess only knows how many people just to keep you safe.
Nuthin' says love like a man who would kill an entire room just for lookin' at ya cross-eyed came the dreamy two cents of a gleeful Harley, hugging a mallet with a picture of her Puddin' on either side.
Dammit Harley, why do you never knock!'
Cuz its no fun that way, besides, you know you love me! Proclaimed Harley, before dodging back through a cartoon like door befoe I could strat throwing things at her.
'Ugh! I am so sick of the both of you! I am going out there to take my chances with the psychopath!'
Third Person Perspective
The troubled green eyes of Poison Ivy snapped open as she took a second to recover from the results of her mental tit et tat. The first thing she saw, were those damn bewitching silver eyes. They were so different now then when she had seen him cleaving through criminals like a dancer in some epic ballad of mass murder. In fact, if it were not for the fact that she could still see the shadows of madness dancing in the corners of his eyes, she woud have trouble believing they belonged to the same man. No, he had already stated he was not Human, which meant, while male, the figure that stood before her was no mere man.
"Are you uharmed Miss Ivy?"
Those five little words, were laced with far more concern than she had seen him show for anything that did not involve killing. It took her aback for a moment, he was so different when not in battle, so restrained, so unfailingly polite, until he declared to your face that he was going to kill you, then Death became a certainty. She shivered at his tone, as that smokey slow, honey dipped baritone seemed to wrap itself around her, echoing those five words in her head with, not entirely inpleasent results.
"Yes, I am fine, thanks to you, though did you have to kill them so brutally?"
She tried to keep her tone curious and light, to not show any trace of the fear she felt in the presence of this... being, she would not call him a man, it would be both inaccurate and a disservice.
"Thank you, I am not fond of being confused with Humans, as you may be able to tell I do not have a stunningly high opinion of about 7o% or so of the planet's population."
These words corresponded with her thoughts so perfectly that Ivy's eyes widened, that could not have been blind luck, could not have been just a stab in the dark it was almost like...
"Clairvoyance?" He chimed in, his voice of all things seeming lightly amused and even a little teasing.
"Oh sweet merciful Goddess you can read minds can't you?"
She said this with a strong current of returning fear, if there was one thing anyone with deep inner conflicts, possible madness, and trust issues despised, it was a telepath.
"Oh, it is not quite telepathy, but yes my eyes have been cursed to constantly show me the entire history of anything I gaze upon, as well as their current thoughts, This also accounts for their rather unique appearance. So to finish both of your questions. Yes, I can read minds, and no, I did not have to kill any of those men so brutally. But since my eyes made me aware of both every crime they had ever commited, as well as their current intentions and plans for your most beautious self. I felt myself rather compelled to act, and since these men were all choosen for their ability and willingness to do anything to achieve their goals, including in some cases, rape, canibalism, and the slaying or enslavement of children. Thus, I did what I feel anyone with the power and fortitude to do so should have done in my situation. I killed them without hesitation knowing that even their potential orphened children were safer with them properly exterminated. And while I obay only Nature's laws, and could give a damn about the suposed morality of these glorified apathic apes. I DO consider it an insult to the natural order that anyone who would prey upon children, whom are the legecy of life, also even though I do not care for any of the laws or inabitions that this society holds toward rape. I consider it disgusting in its own way because not only does it disrespect the very sanctity of life, it also allows the unworthy cowards who purpitrate it a chance to pass on their genetic code. also, while I AM a monster, I will not slay a child in the womb. Therefore my only feasaible option was to remove them from the gene pool before they could do any more harm to the future of this planet and its people."
Ivy was stunned. She had not expected such upfront honesty, and to tell the truth, she was torn. She could not help but agree with him on several points, while having exteame misgivings about his methods of (legitimate and litteral) execution. She realized several things in the silience that followed, and she was, to say the least, rather conflicted with the answers that awaited her. The first of these was a strange pill to swallow, because it involved terms she had always associated with herself. She had always claimed to be a Force of Nature, and while that was still for the most part true, she came to see the one flaw in her argument.
That flaw was her obvious bias toward flora based life forms, while holding a mistrust, and occassional contempt for some animals, mostly sentiant ones. In contrast, this being before her valued life as a whole, and until given a reason to do otherwise would treat each life equelly. This sounded quite fair really, until you realized that meant he considered the life of each insect just as important as that of each human, meaning that while he would let a race contine without a doubt, life always prevailed after all, he thought less than nothing about killing several members of any race if he felt life would be served best by their deaths. This was a being who in many ways made HER look compassionate in comparisson. Here, was the true meaning of a Force of Nature.
That thought, terrified, aroused, and amazed her all at once. Wait! What the Hell, aroused? Damn inner self trying to get a rise out of her again!
'*sigh* As much as I DO love messing with you, this time I am serious, look at him! He is the perfect balance of primal fury, and polite restraint, it is almost as if he requires one to hold back the other. You can deny it all you want Red, but to someone with our powers, that is fucking HOT!'
'You realize in all likelihood he can hear you right?'
'I hope he can! One of us has to be honest, and since you are too busy looking at the mess he made to notice how cute, and strangely protective of you the new boy is... well that just leaves me the task of figuring it out for both of us, again.'
The soft rolling chuckle she heard from her companion at that moment seemed to bear creedance to this. Ivy tried very hard not to get swept up in the mirth and warmth she heard in that deep melody, but it was rather difficult.
"I must admit, the fact that, on top of being breathtakingly and hauntingly beautiful, sinfully seductive, and positively ravishing, I find the fact that you have such an active and forhright subconcious to be, absolutely facinating,"
The sheer liquid smoothness with which he drew out those last two words was poisitively criminal. Pamela had heard every comment one could think of in regards to her body and its beauty, men would say anything to possesss what they could not have, and then flee when they realized they had caught it; but try as hard as she could to dismiss it, she could not classify his words in the same light.
Then, even her body betrayed her, as much as she tried not to, she blushed.
"And just when I thought you could not possibly look anymore stunning then what I saw before me, you quite handily and easily prove me wrong, bravo, thou bewitching befuddling, beautious botinist, bravo." This time there was such mirth, joy, and genuine suprise in his tone that she felt a flush of heat rush straight through her, from her core through each one of her cells setting them afire with pleasure as it passed.
''Uh Red, you might wanna change you leaves.' Came the semi quizzical, entirely amused voice of a returned Harley Quinn. Realizing she might have time for one more, Harley Quinn decided to leave eceryone with one final gem.
'Ha! Came, that's a good one considering you just...'
'HARLEY!!'
'Ok buh- bye', were the merry parting words of the departing Clown Princess of Crime as she skipped lightly away, cheshire grin on her face.
'Ugh, I really hate her sometimes'
"But why? She is such a marvelously charming young woman, and her sense of humor, though admittedly strange, is no less refeshing" This said by her companion, continuing to demonstrate his unfortunate ability to read her thoughts.
"Can you PLEASE stop doing that!", came the snappish request of Poison Ivy, who was rapidly tireing of the troubles of telepathy.
"Of my own accord? Alas I cannot, I do however possess several spells that would render you immune to the effects of my eyes,. Sadly, that would require you to trust me enough to place you under enchantment, and nusfortunately your instincts already have me pegged as the most dangerous potential preditor you have ever seen. Also rather misfortunately given our current impasse. They are not mistaken in the slightest."
"Can't you just say something completely reassuring without also appending something dangerous or creepy?"
"Do you wish me to lie to you?
No of course not! How would that possibly help me to trust you more rather than less?"
"Then no, I am afraid I must continue to be honest. My deepest appologies for the inconvenience."
'Did he just hitchiker's Guide us?'
"What in blazes is the Hitchhiker's Guide? I was simply attempting to avert any needless panic."
'AGoddessofNaturedoesnotfacepalm,AGoddessofNaturedoesnotfacepalm,' came a calming mantra in her head.
"What in the name of all the Nine Sphres of Hell is a facepalm, and what biological advantage could possibly be attained by combining one with the other?" Was the curious query of her companion.
Freed from heistation by this latest statement, palm met forehead with the meaty sound of solid contact.
"Ah, I see. How both unneccissary and literal.", was the dry tone of his reply, perplexity only mildly abated.
"However, as I am new to this world, I must pose my own question to you most gloriously green Goddess." The last was said with more mirth than disdain she noted, still she wondered why the very concept of devinity seemed to amuse this being before her.
'Please, what can someone that powerful consider a God, his expectations would be unrealisticlly high.'
"Quite right you are beautiful, I believe only in immortal concepts, and the sanctity of the world on which I stand. All else is needless quarreling and quibbling done by sentiant creatures because they wish to delude themselves to their own percieved impprtance.
"Sentience impresses me not at all when those blessed with it refuse to use the gift, and yet still feel entitled to arrogance."
"Do you wholeheartedly hate Humanity, I mean you stated that you did not think much of us, but do you actively hate us?"
"No, I do not hate Humanity. Hating something much like loving something should be decided on an independant basis. To hate an entire race would require as much effort for me as loving an entire race. And honestly Humans has not earned the right to consume so much of my thoughts emotion, or time. Simply put, I do not care enough about them to hate them."
"So what was your question?", she asked him somewhat quizzical to see what it was he needed to know.
"Tell me, do all of your buildings tick, or does something make this one special?"
Her, eyes widened, her mouth opened, and the building exploded.
"NO!"
Pamela Isley screamed that single word in a horrified, and grief stricken voice. She then both watched and FELT chemical poisons seep into the land, their liquid tendrils looking to render the soil barren for generations to come. Unable to contain her guilt and grief, she almost colapsed to her knees. A single sob followed by a broken whisper that finally signaled the coming of her tears.
"Merciful Mother, what have we done?"
She was about to sink the rest of the way to her knees, heartbroken, when suddenly she felt two musclular and powerful arms encircle her from behind, and a commanding, deep and ancient voice cry out from about a foot above her left shoulder.
"Circle of Protection, of scarlet hue! Deliver us as the ancient hides of Dragons do!" With that, a glowing white circle with scarlet and gold runes flared into existance about them, and the fire died away, stricken from existance as if it had never been.
But that horrid destruction and death remained.
Though, safe as she was in the strong arms of her companion, Pamela Isley barely noticed, for within those treetrunk strong arms, she finally felt the full truth of his Mana.
It was deep, primordial, boundless, and unstoppable. It was the force that bonded every living thing that had ever even dreaned of existance, 0r willed itself to live! It was fathomless and ancient, powerful and pure.
And it was Green, so beautifully GREEN!
He had no normal heartbeat, which is to say he did have one, but it was the pulse of the Mana that suffused his very existance, not mere muscle and sinew. It swept over her like the marching miracle of Life itself, filling her with a strange hope that somehow this might be rectified, that the land might be healed. She was so afraid of that little spark, that tiny flame of conviction that dared defy reality, it was impossible, and foolish. And at this exact moment, that hope, was all she had.
"Weep not most beautious flower in the Garden of Life! For all is not lost, though the danage done was immense, there is no wound that Nature cannot heal."
"But how! By the time anything can heal the land from this, there will be so much damage done! The ground water, the soil, all utterly ruined!" Her voice was both despairing, and desperate, hoping somehow he could prove her wrong.
To her utmost suprise (and secret pleasure) a large, calloused, tanned hand reached up and, with suprising gentleness, brushed away her tears. Pamela, who did not expect this in the least, subconciously leaned into

the touch, seeking to draw what comfort she could in such a brief moment of vulnrability.
"How you ask? Why with MAGIC of course! When you combine the power of Magic, with the power of Life, nothing is ever truly lost! For as long as the Land remembers, than all one must do, is Reap and Sow the seeds of new hope, and new Life!"
His words boomed out from behind her with such strength, such Power, that they swept all else away before them, first her doubt and sorrow, and then to her amazement, the very land itself, which was as first completely and utterly destroyed....
And then, somehow born again! For as a veridian haze eveloped the entire former factory, she watched on in amazement as lush beautiful greenery sprouted everywhere, flowers, trees, all manner of flora were braught forth in emerald triumph. Beneath her feet she felt the ground water purify, as all the smoke, ash, chemicals, and Death were purified and destroyed by the rolling green wave.
It was the single most beautiful thing she had ever seen or felt, it was the very force of Life prooving its superiority over Death and Destruction.
That deep powerful voice continued on, in its smooth dulcet tones, which she now noted with a shiver, came from right next to her left ear, though now they were softer, almost gentle.
"I am sorry to admit to you that I may have made a mistake upon our first meeting. You see, my anger at the actions of those misbegotten fools was such that I have shown you naught but the destructive and dangerous uses of my Mana. From the start, I should have shown you that Green Mana is Life. It can restore, create and shape Life, it can ressurrect entire worlds if need be. Please accept my appologies, here I have come to discuss the world with perhaps the only person whom might understand my concepts of Life, and yet I arrive wielding naught but Death, and bringing Conflict. I am sorry for that most of all, for you see Pamela Lillian Isley, Magic is beautiful, and thus it should be revered for bringing us closer to the world. For you see o' most beguiling botanist, even a monster can be capible of a miracle if the circumstances are right."
Between the passion and sorrow she could hear in his voice, as well as the way he spoke of Life, she could not help but believe him.
Her next two words, were so soft, so heartfelt, and so unexpected for someone who had spent years hardening their heart, that even the quicksilver eyes of the stranger widened in slight shock.
"Thank you."
"Though I do not know if I deserve it, may I ask a favor of you? O' mighty marvel of Magic?"
"You will never find the answer if you fear to ask the question, so by all means, ask away."
"Are all of the people we may face tonight as horrible and vile as the men who saught to dispoil the land beneath our feet?"
"Yes, truthfully most of the ones who lie ahead are worse than those already slain.
Her still slightly moist glittering green eyes hardened at his truthful admission. They shone with a deep and frightning resolve, the unstoppable force of a Mother braught to anger as her children are threatened. When she spoke, that beautiful sweet and sinful voice of hers was filled with only cold and imperious rage.
"Then I beg of you, tonight prove once again that even a being from beyond the stars can avenge the cries of a grief stricken mother. Come whith me to these other Battlefields, wherever they may be, stand beside me as I seek to defend my babies. And when we find those horrible monsters, use the fury of your Magic to slay them all, without mercy."
"Please"
That last little word, uttered once again from her lips sent an explosion of primal and primordial instinct to his brain and his heart. He knew at that moment that he had choosen wisely, that before him stood someone he could respect, and who could understand him.
His choice, in the end, was just as clear to him as those goregeous green orbs that had held him so enthralled throughout the evening's dance. His next words were warm, but they held a steel and resolve in them that spoke of the timeless power that dwelt within them.
"I swear to you, Pamela Lillian Isely, that by this third utterance of your True Name, and upon both my Power, and given word: that I shall not stop, nor rest, until the monsters that threaten your life this night are cast, one and all, into the howling abyss of damnation!"
The sheer power of the Magical Vow slammed into her like a tidal wave, unquestioned, flowing, and eternal. She felt the very Power of his words suffuse the core of her being, a giddy head rush accompanying her dawning realization.
For this one night, this glorious Christmas Eve, she was not alone, in this mad quest for balance and blood, there was finally someone else who understood.
Still one question nagged at her mind to the point of insanity, no matter the outcome, she HAD to know.
"Why? Why are you helping me?"
His next words were soft, and there was a deep sadness to them, but also a deep rooted strength, the kind that would defy Time, Tide and Death itself if it had to.
"Because, like you, I also have to hear them scream, and not just them, but every living thing that CAN scream in any way shape or form, it is the price of my Power, and the lives that I take. I am never to know true silence."
"But if I am doomed to hear the world scream as each life passes, than I shall be damned if tonight I must hear the end of a melody so beautiful as the sound of your heartbeat."
Ivy was utterly and completely stunned, and for a moment a beautiful, and neigh everlasting moment, she could think of nothing to say, as she stared in silience at this strange Incarnation before her, not mortal, not human, but not unfeeling.
" Now come! If we are to save as many of thy children as possible, we must make haste!"
Before she could protest or even gather her wits, he siezed his Green Mana in his hands, placed his right hand against a nearby tree, the left still encircled protectively about her waist...
Both of them sank into it seamlessly, having Forestwalked to the next Battlefield, Robinson Park, in the very heart of the city.
Hotel: 6 Blocks from Robinson Park
A lithe and feminine figure sat deep in meditation. She currently wore a black body suit and a royal blue cloak, currently open as she hovered a foot and a half off of the bed in a lotus meditative position, She had come here to gain some perspective and to plan her next actions carefully. She had already appealed to both the Avengers and the JLA, but sadly both the mystic Geovanni Zatara, and the mutent mystic known as The Scarlet Witch, sensed her father's touch upon her, and had turned her away despite all of her own reasons to wish his invasion halted. Did they not know whom they were dealing with? Trigon the Conquerer, Demonic Overlord of Ten Thousand Worlds did not make idle threats. She was running out of time and she knew it, she looked at the map of Jump City she had purchased at a local gas station. She hoped she might find some alies there, but she had to wait a week before making the trip, she wished to make one last appeal to Geovanni Zatara to see her for somthing other than merely The Daughter of Trigon, for so much that they could not see depended on her being able to stop his invasion. No matter the cost, she had to stop her Father.
She was the mystic and empath known as Raven, and she was at the moment, very troubled.
She knew it was only a matter of time, The Church of Blood was already in motion, and she knew if his faithful hounds were sniffing her out, that deranged psychopath Brother Blood would not be far behind, ready to hatch yet another perdictable and nefarious scheme
to try and capture her so that she might be forced to become his bride. She shivered at the thought of that, she had seen the soul of Sabastian Blood in enough detail to know that such a fate was worse than death. Yet what could she do save to travel to Ravencrest and try to convince Zatara that, as the Justice League's main mystical representitive, he had a responsibility to investigate the threat. She had wanted to find either Doctor Fate, or perhaps better yet Doctor Strange, as both men would be aware of both whom her father was, and the true threat he posed. Sadly both spent an aweful lot of time battling in other demensions, and were difficult to find at the best of times. Sighing softly, she plunged her senses first inward, and then felt them explode outward in a wave of expanded perception.
Then she felt it. A presence in both her mystical, and empathic senses.Beautiful but sad violet eyes opened in a mixture of awe and terror, and five words toubled softly, unbidden from her lips.
"By Azarath! It cannot be!"
The Magic itself would have been enough to identify him, she knew his signature better than most after all. She had felt it before, while in the clutches of her Father, it was mostly due to his distraction of her Father that she was able to escape. The two had battled for the Gate Rights to a world, had battled one another tooth and nail for the Mana that the world contained. And he had faught her Father evenly.
But it was the feel of his emotions that still caused her nightmares sometimes. So primal, such Power, and such unrelenting fury. He was strange, such a contradiction, polite, and yet savage, an Incarnation of Life: that braught Death wherever he Walked. He was one of her Father's most bitter foes, a thorn in his side whom had even taken Gate Rights from him before. If she could win his trust, win his aid, than she would be that much closer to preparing Earth to stand against the Terror of Trigon.
The problem was how to do so, and live.

For all his civil airs, if she mispoke or angered him, if she let loose the wild fury that dwelt in his heart, she did not know if she would survive the experience. Still even though she was unsettled at the thought of being in his presence again, as an empath, his sheer uncontrolled primal nature played havoc with her emotions, and there was also the fact that he terrifed her quite severely for sake of his power alone. If she was truly one to smile or chuckle ruefully, she may have done so then, for she could not help but understand what it was to be feared for the nature of one's Power. His name was a strange thing, they said his True Name was lost long ago, but that he was still cursed to wander for his sins. Unknown, unnamed and unloved, but not unremembered. No such was the scope of his punishment that though no one would ever again speak his True Name, neither would the Planes ever forget what he had done. Still even for a being whose True Name was lost, they had found many things to call him, few of them very flattering. But there was one title above all that he was known by from one end of creation to the other.
He was The Farstrider, he was volitile, dangerous and insane. An utterly unstoppable force of Life, and Death who slew without guilt or pause, who may kill her for who she was, let alone any of the things she had done.
And yet, she needed his help.
Ravencrest Manor
Zatanna Zatara tossed and turned in a fruitless effort to find fitful rest. She had been unable to sleep for days now, still consumed wholly and utterly by an emotional and moral conflict that lay inside her. She trusted her father, she knew he had studied Magic for years, had been all over this world and many others, and gathethed Magic from worlds whose names she may never even know. But deep in her heart, the young teenage girl could not help a growing feeling of unease. For while she trusted him implicitly, she could not help but wonder if this time he had made a mistake.
She was not so young and foolish as to be blind, she too had sensed darkness in the girl from where she stood watching from the sidelines as the JLA had made its decision, and chosen not only to deny the young empath Raven membership in the Justice League, but had also ignored her warnings of a dire future should none stand to stop her Father, the Demon Trigon.
That was the problem in and of itself,Raven was a complete unknown, having only recently journeyed to Earth, she claimed to be only seeking allies to help in stopping her Father, but many of the more cynical heroes had heeded her father's warning that there was darkness in the girl. Strangely enough, though the old guard of the League were polite and helpful defenders of Truth and Justice, many of their own negitive experiences with unknown Magic had made them cautious, and when Giovanni "John" Zatara had told them they wee right to be wary, many had taken it to heart.
Zee was torn, her father was her hero, her idol, and her whole world. Sure she complained at his draconian idea of training, which would be the death of her she swore, but in the end, she was undoubtedly a "Daddy's Girl".
Still something in those haunted violet eyes would not let her rest easily, she saw that resigned look, with just a trace of sadness, well hidden and repressed, but she had seen the fear in Raven's eyes, even if no one else believed in the threat of Trigon, SHE did.
He was the Demon Trigon, and he was her Father, Zatanna could not imagine what that would be like, being forced to battle her own father, and perhaps have to slay him or stop him from destroying a world. It was insane, there was no comparrison that could be made between a man like Giovanni Zatara and a monster like Trigon, but still she had to wonder. What kind of strength did this young woman secretly possess if she was willing to stand against something like that, even knowing that she might, and most likely WOULD fail.
Zee wished desperately that she could seek the wisdom of her father on this matter, to talk to him about it to see the deeper reasons for his actions, he was not someone to turn away from those in need without some sort of reason. Sadly this was something that would have to wait, apparently rifts had opened up in Limbo to an alarming degree, two massive armies of demonic minions had gathered, and her father, Doctor Strange and Doctor Fate, as three of the strongest mystic defenders of the planet (one of them being the actual Sorcerer Supreme of Earth) had gone to set things straight, and derail what might be an interplanetary invasion.
She paced back and forth across her bedroom floor, having abandoned the idea of sleep for now. Her dark hair hung loose about her, and clung slightly to her face, a testiment to the true unrestful nature of her sleep.
Zatanna was contemplating a walk, her father would kill her if he knew his (barely in his eyes) teenage daughter was thinking of heading out into the depths of the Gotham night on Christmas Eve, but he was not even on Earth right now, there was no way he could bust her for this if he was not even on the planet, right?
Right?
She wished she believed that, but being as young as she was, and having a powerful magician for a father, she had come to realize that she was not going to get away with as much as most kids her age would expect with a father who travelled so much... it was so unfair!
Somehow, he just, knew.
Then the young raven tressed teen felt something that made her blood run cold and her heartbeat skyrocket. It was Magic, powerful, primal magic, a wave of it so intense that she had to fight to keep focused on anything but the momentary feeling of being the only deer in a lion's den. She almost reconsidered her next actions, almost listened to the voice of her father, and his endless hours of lecturing her on the behivior points of investigating planar disturbances, prorperly accessing threats not going off the handle, all that intelligent advice you expect to get from a father who spends a great deal of his time banishing beings that have names you cannot pronounce, and would not want to pronouce even if you could do so, because no one needs attention from things like those.
But while an attentive student, and a loving and dutiful daughter, Zatanna was adventurous at heart, and far more curious then was good for her. So taking a deep breath, and gathering her will, she intoned,
"langis lacigam etacol!" (Locate Magical Signal)
A nearby pin levitated into the air and stuck into a map of Gotham her father kept on the wall for just such a purpose, and a small note of mystical black script proclaimed: Smith Smythe and Stone Chemical Treatment Facility. Fixing the location adn the spell in her head so she could continue to track the signal once she hit street level, Zatanna quickly made her way to her closet. There behind several false compartments, and one false wa,ll, she found the most hidden and prized possession she owned, save for perhaps her diary.
It was a costume modelled after her father's complete with top hat, there were a few alterations to its basic design that the overprotective and old fashioned man would strongly object to, and by strongly she meant watching it get banished to another dimension and being grounded for months. She groaned at the thought of having to explain all of this should her father somehow get back tonight, but that little signal kept calling, and in the end, she wanted to know.
She was out her window and away moments later, with none the wiser but the birds (and perhaps the Bat)
The Batcave
The Batman was away solving the Riddler's latest scheme, something about using a perfect puzzle he had created and perfected with the help of Psimon that would allow him to absorb the memories of all the greatest minds on the planet if he was not stopped,
sometimes it was hard to keep up with the latest capor of the villan of the week. And for two kids on Christmas Eve, nothing could be further from their minds than the lastest plans of the Riddler.
Still, they had to pull moniter duty for a few hours yet before The Batman returned, and Dick had convinced Barbara that even though it was Christmas Eve at least one last patrol should be done, the young adventure seeking acrobat had atleast tried to hide his
enthusiasm, but Babs knew him better than that, even if they were both still relitavely new to this. They still clashed like oil and water sometimes, they were fierce in their loyalty, fierce in their competitive nature, and fierce in their opinions, which could, and often did
lead to arguing.
Still they were too well trained to let that get the best of them for long, most of the time.
Suddenly several alarms went off on the Batcomputer screen.
"Oh my God, this readout says that a chemical treatment facility just exploded in South Gotham!", came the suprised, and now justifiably concerned voice of one Barbara Gorden, better known to the world at large, as Batgirl.
"What, that's insane, does the computer say anything about the probable cause?" , this younger male voice belonged to Dick Grayson the young ward of billionare Bruce Wayne, but he was better known to all as Robin, the Boy Wonder.
"Analysis of the blast patterns reported seem to suggest someone blew it up from the inside, looks like you will be getting your patrol in after all, let's move."
And after sending a signal to The Batman to tell him of the developments, they were off into the night.
Robinson Park
In the middle of what was essentailly Gotham's centeral park, both in location and size, two figures stepped out from bebeath the boughs of a massive and hearty oak tree. One was calm and stoic, though the dangerous aura of barely contained rage hovered about him much as his fully restored green robe did. His travelling companion on the other hand was an odd mix of perplexed and amazed at this exact moment.
"What form of power is that? I have heard that some creatures of legend had the ability to travel between trees but I never imagined such a thing to be real! Can it be taught?" These were the words of one Poison Ivy, who try as she migjht could not supress a shiver of glee at the thought of being able to travel in such a fashion.
The Robed Figure beside her, the being known to most any multiverse as The Farstrider, looked at her with what she could tell was amusement, even if she could not currently see his luminious silver eyes. (much to her hidden disappointment)
"Why Miss Ivy, is that your artfully subtile way of informing me you would be interested in learning of my abilities? Provided of course, (and she swore she could hear the slightest hint of a smirk in the smooth baritone.)) that I was willing to instruct you?"
Part of her wanted to smack him over the head with something heavy and painful for a tone like that, but that would not serve her purpose at all, and besides, though smooth cocky, and arrogent, he was here to help her, had sworn to in fact. And she could not let the chance to learn something so marvelous slip through her fingers, even if it made her feel like she was dancing to a tune only her companion could hear. But she was not blind, she had a feeling he would accept her request;
"Yes, I would like to learn if you would be so kind as to teach me. Plus I have been thinking over many of the things you have said. I kept wondering why it is so important that you find someone else like you. I mean sure, your dark, charming, primal, sophisticated, and unspeakably dangerous, and don't think I don't appriciate that, because I do." Here she paused to give him a wink and a smile that could cause souls to spontainiously combust. "But as pretty as I am, I am no one;s fool, you are looking for people like you, or if not like you then with the potential to be something simmilar, but I cannot figure out why."
He stared at her in the darkness, quiet for a moment before a light but rolling chuckle escaped his lips before he replied.
"Ah but you already have guessed my reasoning, oh most brilliant femme fatale, though perhaps the last was a stroke of luck to be descovered before the first."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean, that, yes, I shall assist you in learning the arts of Forest Walking sould you so desire. Also yes, I do have a pupose, not my only purpose perhaps, but a rather pressing one, that is causing me to seek out other beings across the worlds that have potential. To further clarify, one of the reasons I have assisted you, though far from the only, or strangely not even the most compelling of them; is because I believe that you, Pamela Lillian Isley, have the potential to learn the ways of a Spellshaper."
"So does that mean you want to train me in Green Magic?" Poison Ivy asked, not even realizing that this was something she wanted until she found herself faced with its possibility. To deepen her connection to The Green, to learn to stride the land from tree to tree. To learn to heal the land, not just encourage it to grow, but to truly be able to erase damage done by the carless hands of Man.
His answer was so simple one word filled with so much authority, finality, and promise.
"Yes"
"But enough of this for now, there are foes that lurk in this very park who seek to end your life, so let us make haste, and I shall welcome them with a song painted of sanguine scarlet."
His voice became colder and harder over the course of that sentance until the final words were part curse, and part promise, Ivy shivered, his moods could turn so quickly that it was like trying to reason with a hurricane. She knew that until if and when they fully trusted one another in whatever extent they could; she would have to make sure never to be caught up in his rage.
She had seen how fatal that could be.
Still, tonight she had his word, and somehow, she knew that his word was important to him, part of his very being, she doubted very much he would break it once given.
All of those thoughts and concerns fell away when they set eyes upon the first of the thugs, maquerading as homeless people, since they had cleared out and closed the park by a city ordinance signed by Commissioner Loab. Something about testing various elements of The underground infostructure of the tunnels that ran far underneath it. In order to make certain that it could withstand potential supervillan attacks, of course. It was a giant load of shit and most of the Police force knew it,, but with it being Christmas Eve, most had to take care of family obligations, and even those who were not, did not neccissarily want to tackle figuring out what Loab might be up to this time. Everyone important knew he was crooked as a winding mountain road. Alas knowing something and proving it were two different things, and say what you will of the man, he did not leave evidance of his wrongdoings.
Thus there would be no one to get in the way, and people were told to expect noise and possible explosions, it was an inelegent but perfect cover.
Five men, all rather tall and dressed in black stood in a small knot around three hundred yards away, armed with an assortment of fire based weaponry, they skulked about seemingly on patrol. They must have gotten trepeditious when no one had heard from the group sent to put eyes on, and then engage The Target. The roving paths and generally well kept trees would have offered less visual obscurity then one would hope if they were to be used for stealth purposes.
Or at least they would have for someone who could not teleport between trees.
He appeared soundlessly less then ten feet from the first of his prey, crouching behind him, looking like a jungle animal about to strike. The men were both heavly armed, and blissfully unaware of the horrible death that was about to befall them, for a moment everything seemed poised on the edge, waiting to explode with savage violance.
And then, it did.
He closed in, silent as a whisper, at just under the speed of sound to avoid identifying himself as he arrived. He was upon them in an instant, the first man was dead before he had a chance to register what happened, Bone fractured and shattered, useless meat parted to either side of the hand that now was over a foot into his back, and wrapped around his spine. The figure gave a vicious tug and the spine came free, leaving the thug utterly paralyzed for his final two seconds of life. If such a thing could be called mercy, the rest of his life was mercifully brief, as the very last thing he heard before his innerds were cooked alive by a massive bolt of electricity, were two ice cold, murderously whispered words,
"Lightning Bolt"
Channeling Green Mana directly into the bloody spine he was still holding, The Farstrider drew upon his knowlege of Biomancy, the study of manipulation, and transmutation of any living material. Using an effect so simple it did not even need Words of Power to invoke it, he strengthened the spine to a point where it was many times stronger than any terrestrial metal, while retaining its flexability. Then without missing a beat he snapped his new improvised whip taut with a single practiced motion. No matter what they train you for as
an aspiring henchman in this world, it apparently did not include what to do when being garroted by the spine of a former ally, and the seccond man died of asphyxiation, his throat cut from ear to ear by the shapened bone. The third man almost had time to scream, almost. But then a practiced snap from the Robed Figure caused the enchanted spjnal coloumn to wrap several times about his throat. A sharp pull with enough force to shatter a mountain later, and the now decapitated head sailed into the air. The skull crashed down between the final two stunned criminals in the group. Said skull cracked open a moment later to reveal that the living matter inside had been transformed.
Into a swarm of deadly Killer Bees, that were slowly growing as they set upon the two hapless survivers. The men screamed in agony and horror as the now foot long Killer Bees, with the last six inches being long deadly stingers that positively dripped venom; began to viciously sting them to death. Their screams were short, primal and flooded with fear, as Bees filled their throats, stung every available opening, and pumped the two men full with enough venom to kill a rhino in two seconds flat.
Before the final two bodies had even finished falling, he seemed to lose interest in the scene before him, he turned back to Poison Ivy who was looking at him with a well masked mixture of shock and awe.
"I do believe it would be more advantagious to our cause if you were to stay concealed and protected during the course of tonight's slaughter. Since I very much doubt you wish to join me in the bloodshed at the moment. no matter how eager either of us is to see them punished for their crimes. Therefore, I propose that I grant you an Enchantment that will render you both invisible and immune to any harm tahey might seek to cause you."
Poison Ivy, dispite her misgivings at being placed under anything termed an Enchantment, could not deny the sheer practicallity of his argument. She was however not willing to acceed to his suggestion without at least one teasing remark, so dawning a seductive pout, and lowering her voice to a breathy whisper she knew he would hear without effort, she intoned.
"Aww and here I was thinking that the narvelously mad Magic Man was begining to like me."
He actually lowered his hood at that one, on account of throwing his head back in gentle bass baritone laughter that caressed Ivy's hearing and did wonderful tingly things to her spine, among other places. Looking her dead in the eyes with those glowing quicksilver pools he spoke, his voice filled with a smokey and sinful amusement.
"Oh do not worry yourself about such trivialities, I would, of course, be able to see you still, as I am the caster of the Enchantment. To be perfectly honest with you, I find you far too facinating to willingly banish such a vision of loveliness so easily from my sight. Especially when I instead have the option of keeping that enrapturing sight for myself, whilst still confounding the foe. Though, I must say, that with this wonderful dance we have had the pleasure of finding ourselves in this evening, I am not entirely certain whom, is Enchanting whom.¨ He finished this rather eloquent observation with a radiantly pearly white winnsome grin, that should be able to be classified as a weapon.
While she had somewhat grown accustomed to his stangely well phrased flirtations, Poison Ivy did have to admit to herself that the resulting effects were not entirely unpleasent, so she too decided to continue the strange and dangerous game they had chosen for this evening/s entertainment.
"Well then, since I already have your word that you will protect me for the duration of this evening I accept your offer." she winked at him at this point, before contining in a purposfully sunny tone, "Do hurry though o' Magic Man, for it is after all rude to keep a lady waiting."
This time he did not hold back the volume of his mirth, knowing that he could cast the spell in but a moment, and any efforts to gather everyone in the vacinity would only make his job easier. So he threw his head back and laughed long and loud,, letting the sound of that now warm and honey smooth amusment roll over everything. He was so amused in fact, that Pamela could swear she saw moisture in the corners of those bewitching moonlight magic eyes when they found her clear green orbs once more.
"Oh you are positively precious my perilously proficent, pretty, poisoner! Why, if I did not know any better I would think you were trying to seduce me."
Not one to be so easily outdone, even if she was enjoying basking in an actual conversation for once, Pamela gave him a saucy smile that smouldered with sex, sweetness, and sin, before replying.
"Who me? Perish the thought!" This last was emphisized by a gesticulation of her right hand that perfectly highlighted a too innocent pout, her emerald orbs dancing with a merry light.
What happened next brought the witty banter to a somewhat abrupt end, though in truth niether would complain.
He covered the space to her in an instant, his flowing green robe rustling softly as he glided across the forest floor. Now standing before her directly he gazed down at her with those liquid silver eyes and bent down so that he managed to ease the more than twelve inch differance in their heights. Dropping his voice to a low rumbling whisper as he spoke in her left ear. Seizing The Green within him as he did so he began to weave the Enchantment.
"While I certainly do not believe in the horrid self denial of Aceticism, I believe in this case a higher state of Life does have its uses."
And then he looked into her eyes one last time, before wrapping his arms lazily around her waist, and laying a gentle kiss on her forehead to complete the spell.
Ivy's world exploded with Magic.
The physical act of the kiss was amazing in and of itself, at first cool to set in, then, a warm and firey heat that caressed every nerve, loosened every muscle, and melted every worry. But while that wave of pleasure was both immense and divine, it was what occured next that made sure it would live foreever in her memory. For as the primal Green Magic of Life itself washed over her, making her feel as if no force upon Heaven or Earth could ever harm her, she felt a spark ignite at the very core of her being. For all of these factors, the Magic that now immersed her, the kiss that was still echoing through her being like a bass symbol's vibrations. All of it combined allowed something truly marvelous, majestic and Magical to happen.
For that is when Pamela Lillian Isley, known to the world as Poison Ivy; ignited her dormant Magic and took her first step on the path of the Spellshaper.
She could suddenly feel it all around her. Life! Glorious, eternal, evolving, all encompasing Life, and it was EVERYWHERE! Where once she could only feel her beloved plants, she found with Green Mana in her being that she could willingly sense all Life, and not just Life in Gotham, no that would be so minescule in comparisson to what she felt, a connection to all Life on Earth. Her senses sharpened, the world became more clearly defiined and the joy and endorphins of her latest actions only increased. It was in all honesty the greatest rush she had ever felt from anything, ever. Hell, she didn't even know if killing Jason would feel this good, ok, maybe THAT might... suddenly, she could not completely contain herself.
A long, delicate moan of pure joy and contentment escaped her lips.
When she finally came back to her senses from the flood of utter euphoria, she found those beautiful and strange silver eyes piercing her soul. He was looking at her as if that one moan torn as a victory from her lips was the sweetest sound he had heard in a thousand years, and looking into those eyes, she could actually believe it was true.
"Welcome to the world Pamela, feel the joy and grace of The Green, embrace it and be reborn! For this is YOURS, your birthright, your own strength and vitality manifest when combined with your love of The Land, this is your Mana. amd your Spark! Behold this new joy and weep with bliss, for as long as you live, your Magic shall never dissert you!"
By the time she gathered her wits enough to finally step back from his embrace, Poison Ivy knew but one thing, her world had changed forever.
"Now, begging your most humble pardon my lady, but I have sworn to you that I shall lay your enemies low, and as you say: it is rude to keep a lady waiting."
"I believe, since I am having such fun, I shall Lure them to their doom using The Siran's Call."
With that The Farstrider seized his Green Mana once more, throwing in just a little Blue to complete the second spell, and like bugs from the woodwork, the enemies came. It was like they were puppets lost to a breserker rage, Ivy could feel something akin to her own powers in those spells. But where her powers sparked lust and slavish loyalty in men, these sparked only one thing in any foe effected by them. The absolute primal and driving NEED to kill the enchanted creature.
So they came, ninty five men slowly making their way to his location, a wide and deep clearing with him standing at its center. He was so calm, so poised, Ivy had to admit she was impressed, perhaps this was one of the many reasons he was so used to people trying to kill him, she mused. His next words echoed with such amazingly destructive Power and firey rage, that Pamela felt as if the very air were aflame, and she was suddenly very glad, that the primordial killing machine that stood before her, was on HER side of the Battlefield.
"You think your absurd little toys could possibly bring harm to ME! Foolish and frail trash! I shall show you how tenious your grip on this world truly is. For he who dies with the most toys, still dies!"
" Shatterstorm!"
The vengeful crimson glow of Red Mana lept to every single place on the Battlefield, and completely destroyed anything even the slightest bit technological or crafted of Artiface . Weapons, armour, devices, all lain to waste with a single booming utterance. If his foes had been anything but rage maddened animals at the moment; perhaps they would have had the sense to be afraid. As it was, doom was all around them, and they knew not their peril. Otherwise, the would have realized they were utterly FUCKED when their opponent began to sing.
"Slay and sing! Are you listenin'?"
He shot off toward his first opponent in a burst of speed, his motions blurred about the edges. In a flash his left hand had clamped around the first man's neck with a strength that could crush dimonds to powder, an almost offhanded twist snapped the neck leaving ithanging to the side of the now falling corpse. As the left hand seized the neck, the right grabbed his corresponding arm, and tore the entire thing free of his shoulder socket in a single sickening wrench. Flaring Green Mana through the limb he sent strength to reinforce the bonds of the remaining flesh. That done, he turned on the second man, and began to beat him to death with the arm of the first, its strengthened form being more then sufficiant to bledgeon the man to death in a few quick strikes,, his body pulped by his opponent's superstrength. The third man tried to back away, but found instead the arm now shoved completely through his chest and out his back. His eyes widened in silent fear as he died gurgling, lungs filling with blood. Still able to carry a rich and booming tune, the figure contined his song; never once stopping his movements.
"From the slain, blood is glistenin'."
The fourth thug felt little other than a solid impact underneah, his chin, and then nothing, as his head came clean off of his shoulders, the uppercut responsible allowing his blood to fountain high into the air in a beautiful sanguine shower. The fifth man tried to scream, only to have his throat removed by the figure's left hand, spraying his vital force everywhere across the ground. The sixth thug was forced by super strong hands into a forced gas petal, before the force of the grinding foot combined by the force that was pulling his leges in two opposite directions, finally broke him, wishboning him as his legs came free of his body in another spray of blood.
"The beautiful sight, of Death dealt at night."
The seventh and eighth criminals died together, because at this point their doom had already lept into the air. Coming down, he seized both men's heads, and slammed them together with enough cataclysmic force to pulp their, brains and skulls completely, resulting in a unique form of decapitation. The ninth man died by virtue of a hard axe kick that caved in the top of his head, sending shards of bone into his brain killing him instantly. Three more, the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth victms were caught up in a wordless spell cast by a combination of Green and Blue Mana. Every cell in each man's body underwent full Crystalization, and when the figure blew lightly in their direction, all three shattered into fragmented bits as if struck by The Hammer of Thor.
"Walkin' in a crimson wonderland!"
Unlucky number thirteen had had his blood turned to burning acid by a combination of Red and Green Mana, his blood was then heated and exploded out of his pores with the force of a Fireball, this caught up the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth thugs as well. The chemical reaction spreading as the acid touched each of them, thus transmuting their own blood to venom before it exploded out of them like living paint granades.
"Fly away, as a little blue bird!"
A Blue Mana filled Polymorph spell made certain that the seventeenth man would spend the rest of his life as a blue jay, he flew away before something worse could happen to him.
"Come and play, with your new herd."
Three more thugs found their very minds and souls stripped from them, as Yavimaya's Embrace ripped away any trace of who they once were, he could be less brutal but he saw no reason, so he drew deeply of The Green and wove an Enchantment called Feed the Pack.
the three were consumed in jade coloured flame; and when it cleared away there were not men, but three wolves in their place. Who immediately set upon three of ther fellows, slavering jaws, and razor claws seeking flesh, blood, and death.
"The Rule of the Strong:"Let no foe live long." Walkin in a crimson wonderland.
The Farstrider shot off like a rocket, hurtling at the next group of ill fated criminals with inhuman speed, and stregth. Which only increased further as he drew upon the Green and infused it with his will to fform a new set of battle attire, his Blanchwood Armour. The armour was a strange contradiction, it was smooth in many places, forming plates and gauntlets of living wood, it wrapped about him while not restricting his movement in the slightest, and he could now create projections and shapes for the living wood, for he was among many other things considered a Master Biomancer. Lastly, his green robe had transformed into a long cloak that flowed behind him as he strode through the Battlefield like a Titan, He wore no helm, as not to obstruct his impromptu singing.
And so it was that the twenty fourth contender had thick knotted roots fired through his chest, then, as they sank into his orgins, the roots reformed slightly into the shape of outward facing hands. Bofore they proceeded to push in opposite directions, ripping the poor bastard in half and spraying blood and chunks of meat everywhere. Number twenty five, was given the honor of having every bone in his body broken by thin whip like, and innumrable small projections of wood, before they too retracted to their master, pulling him apart into a shower of bone fragments and blood.
"If you are a killer, be a showman!"
Sadly for them the next three fared no better. For now resting in the hands of the strange woodland knight was a long graceful Boken. The twenty sixth henchman tried to flee, he really did. However, a titanic cross cut split him with ease from left shoulder to right hip. The man next to him would have screamed, but a powerful horizontal slash severed his skull from his spine in a single stroke. The twenty eighth man, was cleft entirely in twin, a massive two handed overhand spliting him into two, equally dead, halves. All three fountained sweet scarlet as they fell lifeless to the glade floor.
And when your foes come forth, you take them down."
He now held two shorter blades, one in each hand. He plunged one each into the waiting stomaches of number twenty nine and thirty, respectively. He then pulled straight up with enough stregth to shatter steel, and the blades came out the tops of the heads of two equally slain knaves. Eight more followed them into the darkness moments later, as four Lightning Bolts were split into eight bolts, having Forked themselves, Each bolt struck its target in the chest, blowing the torso's completely to ash, and leaving only a scorcehed skulls and eight pairs of still standing, bleeding stumps behind. This of course braught us to thirty eight corpses.
"If you are a killer on the go, man, be sure to paint it red when your in town!"
Five men were instantly liquified into fresh fleshy slurry. their skins and orgins instantly transformed into scarlet sludge by the vicious use of both Red and Green Mana. They seeped slowly into the ground, as wild flowers bgan to bloom amongst the chunks of failed flesh.
"Now scream, and expire, as I hurl balls of fire!"
Ten souls were immediately lost in a massive conflaguration. As small Fireballs, each the size of a basketball burned them to death slowly, they died sobbing brokenly hoping for release before the balls flared up one last time blackening their bodies to charred and broken husks. The death toll, had now reached fifty three for this Battlefield.
What a mess I've made, here have this grenade! Walkin' in a crimson wonderland!
As for thug fifty four, where are you, was an excellent question after a modified Goblin Grenade was shoved down his throat and he exploded into a shower of sanguine scrap. He also took five more unhappy campers with him. Their arms and legs cast about in bloody pieces as they too were subject to the joys of fragmentation.
"Slay and sing, are you listenin'?" "Let have ourselves, a scarlet christenin'"
He now wielded a blood stained Nodachi, seeing only weat in need of reaping before him, he began to dance, with massive sweeping arcs. spinning cuts, and stabs with the power to split granate. Arms and legs began flying about, hands were lost, than heads, and still more were bisected. In a matter of seconds he stood in a new forest of freshly fallen flesh, sixteen new corpses, and their attendant bits scatterd about his feet like the garbage he considered them to be.
"What a glorious sight, you will all die tonight! Walkin' in a crimson wonderland!"
Ten more were dispatched in those few seconds. thousands of wooden spikes firing from the hands of this being whom for them had become Death incarnate. The spikes sank in everywhere. and in seconds where ten men had just been; only bloody amd pierced pincushion parodies remained.
Walkin' in a crimson..."
Three more fatal screams were heard, as the first man died to machine gun cleft wounds from a sword that could have split his skull with a stab alone. The second faced an unarmed Farstrider, not that it did him much good, as both of his arms were ripped from their sockets and he was beaten to death. The third man tried to run, but had his skull caved in with a single strike, leaving one of the arms of his friend forever embeded in his head as a testament to his doom.
"Walkin' in a crimson ..."
The next man to die was quite literally snapped in half, as he was given a backbreaker that would have put a serious hurt on even a Kryptonian, As it was his foe snapped, not so cleanly in two, his intestines spilling into the forest floor. His two companions also died strangely. Using his inhuman strength the woodland warrior siezed one hand each from the two terrifed men, and then plunged one of them into the opposite man's chest. His massive hands fully encapsulated theirs, as he guided each to grasp the other's heart and squeeze. They were locked together forever in death, each bound by rigor mortis, crushing the heart of the other.
Walkin,' in a crimson wonderland!
Three finally managed to run, only to be grasped about by the waist and pulled one after another, screaming into nearby trees as they exploded from being rejected by the arborial titans. Blood and bits flew everywhere as the trees shot out greedy roots to drink theblood of the fallen.
Then, only one, lonely and frightened soul remained.
The Farstrider frowned as if he had miscounted somehow and was offended that the figure still stood, then a mischievious light entered those silver eyes and the last man knew he was doomed. Waiting for the echo of his voice to die out, he continued to chat as if he had not just killed ninty four different people.
"You see, my dear lady I shall prove my point to you thusly."
Upon saying this he shot forward at a speed eyes could not follow, siezed the right hand of his final foe, futilely rasied to ward his face. Pulling hard enough to rend the hand from arm, he then drove the splayed hand into the skull of the last criminal. His face forever
frozen in terror, fused with his severed right hand. He then turned to regard his stunned silent companion. She was stunned for good reason ninty five men had just died to one man, in the space of about two minutes and fifteen seconds. Seeming to not note this at all he merely shot her a foxy grin, before he brightly proclaimed.
"See what did I tell you? The Facepalm offers absolutely no evolutionary advantages, and is thus, completely useless."
"Now, if I may finally answer your original questions Miss Ivy?"
I have worn many a name and title over the years of my existance. But the closest I bear to a True Name is that of Morrigan Farstrider"
He spread his hands wide at this point, arms cast out to his sides, as if they were trying to encompass the enormity of the concept he was about to express. His now positively molten silver eyes stared right into the core of her being, as if they could see everything she would ever think. Come to think of it, given the explaination of his eyes, perhaps they could.
"As for what I was, and what I now find myself to be. I was born millenia ago upon a world so far removed from this one that it is hard to discribe it other than to say it was several entire multiverses away. I was born to a proud but secluded race of beings who dwelt in the Forest of Llanowar, your kind would I believe know us by the moniker of Elves."
Ivy took a moment to digest that information, he was thousands of years old, and came from a proud people, whom humans now depicted as crafting toys for children under the supervision of a magiclly jolly fat old man?
She could just tell that fact was not going to bode well with him when he became aware of it. Before she could reflect on her somewhat cynical observation though, that deep and smooth voice kept rolling.
"However, what I am now is something of an entirely different calibur. I am a rare indavidual who was born with Magic so interlaced with my being that it eventually allowed me to transend my privious physical form to become a living incarnation of Magic itself! I am a living primordial personification of Power amd Magic, capible of Walking between worlds as simply as you would step from one foot to the other. It is by this capacity for travelling between worlds that my kind are given our designated title.
I am Morrigan Farstrider! And, I am, a Planeswalker!
The booming Power latent in those very statements rolled over the glade like a physical thing. A living force that responded on some primal level to the declaration of the being before her.
She was a strange mix of intrigued and afraid, the scope of what he just confessed was not something to be taken lightly. She was both curious and cautious as to how this would play out. This was a situation that had to be handled delicately, even if he meant her no harm within the bounds of his word tonight, the ire of a millenia old being with that much sheer power was not something she wanted to earn.
And yet, once again, he had told her the truth.
Suddenly though his demenor was once again a cold hard mask as both of them heard a previously unnamed sound, in this case repeated and uncontrolled retching from the edge of the glade behind them,
On her knees, sick with revulsion and fear, since she was an empath that had just witnessed mass murder. Worse it was done by someone who did so with genuine amusement, was a rather shaken Raven. Her normal calm and collected demeanor had abandoned her in the face of the horrors that she had seen, and felt commited moments ago.
When his eyes landed on her, they narrowed, and something dark and dangerous crept into his voice.
"You have precisely thirty seconds to recover your wits, and explain to me both why you are here, and why I should allow you to live, Raven, Daughter of Trigon!"
Raven for a moment just stared at him in horror, of all the scenarios she pictured, this may be one of the worst. Then her eyes, if it were possible widened even further, and she pointed a shaking finger high over his right shoulder.
It was at that exact moment that the stealth bombers arrived and blanketed everything in napalm. It was hot and unstoppable, it came down at them as the tears of an angry God. It was in purest and truest form:
Fire, from the sky.
And CUT!!!
Well, I did promise you all blood did I not? I hope you enjoyed this latest installment of my humble scribings. Please feel free to both read and review, because I would love to hear from you. Sorry for the wait by the way, hope it was worth it. Still a very rough draft, but I truly wished to get this out as soon as possible. By the way if anyone wonders why I spend so much time reviewing reactions and mindstates, it is because almost every major character of this story will be mad in some form. And even were that not so, I believe everyone hears voices in their head to an extent, thus my depictions of the subconcious.
For those worried that this will just be an OC killing everything in sight with ease because he feels like it, please consider the following. He is not the only Planeswalker out there, there will be a ton of things that can stand toe to toe with him. They just won't be streett thugs. You also have yet to meet The Enemy, they are many, they are terrible, and they are powerful enough to scare a Planeswalker.
For people who actually KNOW what a Planeswalker is, give yourselves a cookie, because you can guess some of whats coming. For those who do not, oh you are in for some fun.
Found and fixed some errors, then found that the computer had eaten the entire introduction of Planeswalkers leaving me no choice but to rewrite it in some way that would make sense. I know that this still has a lot of kinks to iron out. I have been writing non stop to try and get the ideas out of my head, but after several days my attention to detail was rather shot.
Next Episode: The Final Countdown!/ Sparks, and Direct Crimation!
This just in! I have decided to do a quick Planeswalker Profile before I am finished the next chapter, because I do not know if people are actually going to like him as a main character if I do not explain a few things. I have no idea, but it seemed like a soumd decision at the time. (Then again it was 5 AM and I had not yet slept, so soumd decision is a questionable description.
Dibbley, away! *Straps on his jet powered rocket pants, and junior birdman's the hell out of there*
- 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