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JLA Watchtower RPG
jla_watchtower
keystonesfinest
 Dr. Alchemy sits atop the Gothic Revival Tribune Tower in Chicago, legs dangling over the edge of the tall ledge he's perched on, the Philosopher's Stone in one hand, and a smaller book than usual in the other. He's having to use a metal clip to keep the pages open where he wants them, given the high winds this far up, so he's less than happy. Any damage to a book puts Alchemy in a bad mood.

He reads from his book; Atlas Shrugged. "Run for your life from any man who tells you that money is evil. That sentence is the leper’s bell of an approaching looter. So long as men live together on earth and need means to deal with one another–their only substitute, if they abandon money, is the muzzle of a gun. What an interesting philosophy…" Alchemy doesn't even look up as he activates the philosopher's stone, and the walls of the Chicago Mutual Bank turn into oxygen, exposing the vaults to the public.

"When you have made evil the means of survival, do not expect men to remain good. Do not expect them to stay moral and lose their lives for the purpose of becoming the fodder of the immoral. Do not expect them to produce, when production is punished and looting rewarded. Do not ask, ‘Who is destroying the world? You are."  He sniffs. "I merely change the world. I destroy nothing. This Rand woman has some gaps in her knowledge." Again without looking, he clutches the stone and the roads beneath him begin to change into mercury.

-

Meanwhile, other villains, rogues and criminals run rampant throughout Chicago, all intent on causing the largest distraction possible for the Justice League.

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Current Location: Chicago, IL

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_bird_of_flame_
jla_watchtower
_bird_of_flame_
Bette Kane has never been one to attach a lot of sentiment to the holiday season. While she likes presents and likes friends an family, she's had a lot of the first and not so much of the later until the past few years. Ever since she's become a Titan, this sort of stuff has started to mean more.

And this year, specifically, she's trying to shake herself out of a funk. Ever since the end of the whole situation with Jesse and Wally, she's been mopey, beyond mopey. That just is not going to stand - or at least she's going to do her best to get rid of that little black rain cloud that's settled over her head.

At the Titans West tower, there is a trail of gingerbread cookies leading to the teleporter. One of them is standing over the controls, watching them. No one needs to change them at all, they just need to get on the platform and follow the trails of the gingerbread to...

..... the Titans East base.

Someone's been busy with the decorating and the cooking and... well... the catering but she did cook some. A little bit.

This is the party. Presents can't be too far behind.

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jla_watchtower
xspeedyx2
There's the thwack of arrows that can be heard outside of Titans Tower, as Speedy hits another bullseye on the target.

Mia loves her early-morning practice sessions almost as much as she loves coming to the Tower on the weekends. No one's up before noon at best on Sundays, so she can enjoy the peace and quiet as she strikes the target again and again.

Pulling down her hood, Mia pauses, taking in the sight of the bay around her.

And then she notices it. A very familiar figure walking up towards the Tower.

Mia blinks, rubbing her eyes, wondering if the sun's playing tricks on her. As the figure gets closer though, Mia's face breaks into a wide grin. Dropping her bow, she sprints towards the figure, screaming at the top of her lungs before wrapping her arms around her best friend in a bear hug.

"Rose!"

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beastlyboy
jla_watchtower
beastlyboy
"Why don't you tell me about your day, Simone? See what we can find...between the lines."

The little green chihuahua skirted across the otherwise immaculate tile floors of St. Perez's Preparatory School. Garcia bobbed and weaved, avoiding the heavy, stylized shoes of the young people who thought they were the upper crust of society. Really, they were more like the weird, floury part that doesn't get cooked properly, but no one was going to tell them that out loud, especially not a little dog who could get his head crushed open by a pair of cleats. Being a pet in a school that technically didn't allow pets was something of a balancing act anyway, and at least Garcia wasn't as obvious about it as Hernando the pot bellied pig, that ham.

"Well, Doctor, I, um, came to school pretty normally. I tried my best to pay attention in my morning classes, but..."

"...but you've been having your problems again?"

Garcia ignored the cry of alarm as he ran out from underneath the janitor's legs, twisting to the side just in time to avoid being crushed by a deadly basketball. Ignoring the churlish laughs of the jock crowd(girls could be so cruel!), Garcia ran for the bleachers, crawling under the main wooden bench and licking his teeth as though wishing his little doggie lungs could call out 'Wolverines!' or some similar rallying cry. Instead, he carefully made his way forward, knowing that salvation was within his grasp...!

"...I know it's a waste of my parents's money, Doctor, and I know it's wrong, I mean...look! I've even tried holding needles in my hands, s-so the pain'll wake me up..."

"Shh. Shh. This isn't a place for shame, Simone. It's alright. I know you feel sorry. But you're still making the mistake of relying on yourself. I can't help you...if you don't let me help you."

"Doctor..."

"...tell me, Simone, do you want to waste more of your parents hard earned money? Do you think a confused girl who cuts herself to stay awake can handle that kind of information? Do you need that kind of responsibility?"

Keeping his eyes on the prize, so to speak, Garcia put on an expression of great, grim concentration. There! He shot out of the bleachers like lightning, throwing skirts in the air and causing cries of, 'Ohmigawd!' and 'That little rat-dog!' and 'Ooh, that's a nice breeze...' as he plowed through the cheerleaders, making his way around to the other end of the gymnasium. Finally coming upon a heavy pair of socks that looked, he had to admit, adorable on the normally ultra-dignified young woman with her nose in a book, he lightly batted her ankle and gave a rakish grin that looked entirely inappropriate on a dog.

"...no, Doctor Moffit. I need...I need, you...please...please take the numbers, take the cards...!"

"...well, alright. But to be there for you, Simone..."

"...you need to be there for everyone else. I promise. I'll get the other girls on the team to come to one of your one on one sessions. I swear! Please!"

"I'm sure they'll thank you, in the end." Faye Moffit adjusted her glasses, smiling as she drank in the power she had over this spellbound mind. "Trust me..."

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jla_watchtower
bewaresinestro
Why could Sinestro master the elemental force of fear? Compared to the true horrors of the fifty two layered universes, what exactly is frightening about a pink fascist in yellow tights?

It came all at once, a horrible static burst cutting through Earth's delicate web of satellite powered communications. "People of Earth." A flicker of light and energy, as the sneering, mustached face comes into view. "This is...Sinestro, leader and founder of the Sinestro Corps. For too long, Earth has suffered under the yoke of nationalism. It is clear to me that for all of their virtues, the human race is simply incapable of governing itself in a reasonable, orderly fashion. We have come to help you. We have come because, when given the chance to help yourselves, you jockeyed for position and struggled for dominance instead of acknowledging the need to unify. We have come to save the world. The planet Earth, a source of great fear for the civilized universe, has been annexed as a protectorate of the Sinestro Corps. Do not resist, and the transition shall be accomplished with minimal strife."

In the skies, the first, best line of defense against alien invasion has failed. The Watchtower was somehow fooled into believing that the rush of negative energy was the dimensional equivalent of a sunspot. Amon Sur, Parallax, leads the space contingent of this army of psychotics, shimmering beams of the yellow spectrum of light making themselves known as the Sinestro Corps secures the fortress-space station.

"The only colony on the Earth that has declared open alliance to the Green Lantern Corps is the settlement of Coast City. Even here, Sinestro shows his limitless mercy. People of Coast City, you have one hour. Then, I shall descend upon the home of my great enemy, and I shall leave nothing standing. Leave. Quickly. The remainder of the United States of America shall be secured by Sinestro Corps agents within that hour timeframe."

Eyes glowing the harsh yellow-red of a bleeding sun, Mongol leads his war party tasked with seizing America's heartland into a sweeping formation around what is arguably the soul of the United States; Mount Rushmore. Mongol grins, envisioning his twisted visage carved over the great leaders of this rebellious nation.

"Terms of surrender for the rest of the world shall be broadcasted from the United Nations building. I do not expect the proud human race to accept their fate until they are taught how to fear. Their weaponer-guardian will be tasked with spreading the fear that must be established to bring order to this wounded, rabid world. Rejoice, earthlings. You are delivered."

Enkafos's eyes open, his three hundred and sixty fifth awakening since the end of his natural life. The mummified agent of Sinestro stands in the middle of the UN Plaza, and silently basks in the greatest city on the planet's terror, its anticipation. "Prepare." He orders his subordinates. "The throne must be ready to accept antimatter within the quarter hour."

The frightening thing about Sinestro, you see, is when this almost foolish figure talks about bringing order to the galaxy, living nightmares listen. They cheer. They unite. They work together. Sinestro can take a disorganized band of egomaniacs and psychotics and bring them together as firmly as any crack unit of soldiers. His eyes gleam with the cancerous yellow of a dieing star as he hovers over Coast City, his ring helping him keep track of the work of those that bare his name below. And Sinestro couldn't keep the smile off of his face.

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jla_watchtower
x_superkara_x
Kara Zor-El is sat atop the sky high Wolf News building in Metropolis, taking in the sunrise and the gentle cool breeze rushing by her skin. She has some lovely designer shades on that Kori had let her keep, and lowers them as the sun peeks over the horizon.

Why the Wolf News building? Well, Kal always sits on top of the Daily Planet when he gets an excuse, and she doesn't always have to follow the trends set by her cousin. That, and the alter ego she's setting up is going for a job at Wolf News as a researcher for some gossip show or other. Totally uninteresting, but she seems to fake it pretty well. She smiles as the glow from the sun warms her face, and leans back, putting her arms behind her head.

And then her morning calm is interrupted by the vibration of her cellphone. Oh yes, that's right. Kori also gave her a cellphone. As she checks the text message, her smile widens. Kon! She hastily texts back -

I'm on the roof of Wolf News, south Metropolis. Be there, or be square.

And send. There's one thing she refuses to use, even in this wonderful, colourful 21st Century Earth, and that's text-speak. She spent long enough learning the proper grammar and punctuation of the English language, so damn it if she's not going to use the thing.

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Current Location: Metropolis

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beastlyboy
jla_watchtower
beastlyboy
Outrageously Hawaiian shirt? Check. Sporty jean shorts? Check. Fancy leather flip flops? Check. Aviator sunglasses, corn cob pipe, and genuine Pattonesque army helmet? Check.

"Time to go to work." Beast Boy states, snapping his hands behind his back and stepping out to the Tower's lounge. "Alright, listen up troops!"

A pause. Beast Boy sighs, pulls a triangle out of somewhere, and rings it a little. "I said LISTEN U-p. Aheh. Thank you. Now! Ahem. Today we see a step forward in the endless trek of justice! Some of you wonderful guys may not make it home, but all of you will be able to say, "I was there, and I was a MAN.". Except the ladies. They can say, "I was a LADY.", if they'd prefer. Their call, no judgments here." Beast Boy coughs again. "One of the most important aspects of superheroing is the secret identity. And tonight, we're going to be putting the protection of that identity to the test. Teen Titans, tonight..."

Beast Boy slaps the poster behind him, showing the 'Fun Haus', a hip new Gotham nightspot that's made a few of the society papers. "...we are going clubbing! Clubbing, for DANGER. If we can survive a night out with our secret identities intact, we know we can handle those tricky infiltration missions that pop up every once in a while." You know, when the uniforms get boring. "Any questions, troops?"

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jla_watchtower
bewaresinestro
"Jump City? They're really thinking of naming the whole projected 'super city' area Jump City?" Simon Estavez shakes his head, crumpling the newspaper and depositing it in the proper recycling bin. He lowers his sunglasses, allowing eerie yellow eyes to pulse lightly as a ring made of sheer terror reaches out, scanning the immediate area. "Philistines do not deserve this piece of history-and those who do not take the proper measures to secure what is theirs soon find themselves lacking anything at all."

The fascist's rigid posture remains as solid and unyielding as ever, as he delicately places his hand into a strange machine; the trash can shaped object pulses, almost organically, taking a scan of the data being fed to it...and yellow light fills the object, pumping as though it were a living heart.

Allowing his human disguise to fade away, Sinestro smiles at the effect. "Soon, the Nightmare Engine will be fully primed, feeding off of the repressed anxieties of this sick, weakening city...and then, not even the Teen Titans will be able to stop us from stealing the Golden Gate Bridge!"

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boy_of_steel
jla_watchtower
boy_of_steel
Titans stand up for one another. Titans are a team, and if we're ever going to be taken seriously by the League, we have to act like it.

Kon-El has taken it upon himself to stand watch at the hospital. He knew that the LEague wa probably watching, maybe the Atom was in his tiny action-figure chair in the monitor room watching some boring dissertation on string theory on the picture-in-picture while he kept the main screen tuned to an exterior shot of this hospital, Speedy and Green Arrow in beds a few floors below. Hell, Batman probably had live feeds of the security camera system piped into that big creepy cave of his.

But Superboy ws here, in person, sitting on the corner of the room, trying to stay awake and stand watch. Because it needed to be doing. If one of Green Arrow's enemies showed up, if that little freakjob Brother Blood decided that now was the perfect time to cross a Ttian off his personal death list...

Anything, for any reason. He'd be grateful for the action. Guard duty was frigging boring.

But it's what Superman would do. So it's what Superboy would do, too.

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Current Mood: bored bored

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boy_of_steel
jla_watchtower
boy_of_steel
[Continued from here, not to be too confusing or anything.]

Smallville gymnasium.
Teen Titans.
A little peice of hell is unleashed.


Kon-El rose from the floor. His face was flat and emotionless as he surveyed what was before him. Scattered children, unimportant. The Titans?

Nothing.

A drain on him, mind, body and soul. A distraction. After all, he had a father's example to live up to.

His eyes lit with red fire, he swept them across the floor, the boards bursting into flames. The twin lines of fire swept to cut off any potential escape route for the speedster. He'd be the first. He'd die screaming. They all would. Then he'd go home.

After all, his father would want him home for dinner.

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Current Mood: blank blank

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jla_watchtower
jla_extras2
The gym shook. The music came to a halt and there was a roar like something out of a bad B-Movie.

"That sounds like a problem," Lex Luthor drolled from the back of Connor Kent's skull. The creature, whatever it was, pounded at the gym roof as if desperate to get inside.

"Everyone!" Yells the principal. "Quick everyone! To the tornado shelter! Quick now, hurry!"

"Problem is, what are you going to do about it? "Aut Vincere Aut Mori."

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jla_extras
jla_watchtower
jla_extras
The Titans vessel (modified beyond the intentions of the original shipwrights, thanks to Cyborg), heads north from San Francisco. Starfire, Wonder Girl, and Superboy are flying ahead, while Kid Flash is the vanguard scout. Thanks to the GPS location provided by Tempest, and Cyborg's navigational computer, their course should remain true until they reach the pirate base.

Although, as every Titan knows, many things can happen before they meet their foe....

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_nightwing_
jla_watchtower
_nightwing_
In the newly-completed Titans compound's public briefing room, the assembled members of Titans East gather to a packed house of reporters.

It's take months of headache-inducing bureaucracy, construction, and setbacks, but at last, the massive structures that comprise the Titans' latest and most technologically up-to-date home is finished.

"Thank you all for coming," Nightwing begins, as cameras flash and lights glare.

It's a long way from those earliest days, he thinks, as he surveys the team and the press. So much has happened. So much has changed. And yet ... some things never do. Like teamwork. Like the feeling of being among family. Something the Justice League has never had for him. They work for a common goal. Titans work and die to keep everyone together while we do it.

"This is an historic moment for us. We'd like to thank everyone of the great city of Philadelphia again for welcoming us as they have, and we hope to be worthy of that welcome for years to come. I'm proud to be a Titan, and I speak for all of us when I say we're proud to be part of Philadelphia's future."

The press conference will last for perhaps half an hour. The private, all-Titans-invited party that will continue behind closed doors will probably, he figures, last most of the night...

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Current Location: Philadelphia, PA

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middle_amazon
jla_watchtower
middle_amazon
(Still waaaaaaaay on bendy time, folks, and past tense at this point. - M)

School dances. Now this was something she never had the chance to do often. Sure, a some braver boys after missions had asked, and she actually made it to a few. Most of those times there would either be a very huffy redhead trying not to care or one with a cute local girl to take and she would be a bit huffy. Sometimes it was dates and huffy moods for both of them. She allows for amusement in retrospect.

Right now, her and Bette are honorary chaperons. Bart has managed to do something Wally only got to in his twenties - managing to dance and flirt outrageously with about three girls that she's counted so far (and not be annoying about it). Best of all, Connor Kent, the angry school nerd apparently, is getting to dance blissfully with his "new," girlfriend Cassandra Sandsmark, wondering how the hell this "nobody," managed to score that kind of hit. It's made even more funny by the "Superman," patches some of them are wearing.

There is no "Wonder Girl," or "Superboy," for that matter in the room right now. She knows this from her own ample experience.

She hands Bette some punch. "Go to many of these when you were their age?"

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jla_extras
jla_watchtower
jla_extras
(OOC note: Plot still in bend-y time.)

The truck has arrived in the small town along with a van and a bunch of superheroes.

People get out of the grocery store, the feed store, the one ancient laundromat/video game parlor (that still has "Bury Barry" arcade game older then some in the car), and - great timing - football practice at the high school is getting out.

Prepare to be swarmed!

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Current Location: Smallville, Kansas

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_wondergirl_
jla_watchtower
_wondergirl_
So…this is uncomfortable.

Cassandra Sandsmark looks to her right and then looks to her left. On her left, and slightly under her, is Conner Kent – also known as Kon-El, also known as Superboy. He’s the love of her life. Next to him is his Uncle Jonathan, a man who is watching over Kon for Superman. On Cassie’s right is her mother, giving Cassie amused yet wary stares. Cassie carefully avoids her mother’s gaze, partially because she’s practically on her boyfriend’s lap, and partially because she’s scared her mom will do something like take her powers away, an unfortunate gift that Zeus bestowed on Helena Sandsmark.

Behind her, also crammed into a very tight space, are some of the Titan friends of Cassie and Kon, along with Donna Troy, the first Wonder Girl – a woman who Cassie not only idolizes but loves as fiercely as any kid sister has ever loved an older sister, even though they may not be related by blood.

Behind them? Their broken down van, being towed by the Kents' truck.

This is a one time deal only, Sandsmark. After this, no more close quarters like this, and you can relax and just be…a girl. With her boy. Like normal, non-super powered teenagers.

“Thank you, umm…Mr. Kent – er, aah…Uncle Jonathan?” Cassie pauses, giving Kon a look as if to ask him what it was exactly she was supposed to call his guardian. “Thank you so much for coming to help us.”

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boy_of_steel
jla_watchtower
boy_of_steel
After the pre-arranged phone call kicking off the next phase in the plan, Conner hurried outside, stepping into his tennis shoes in mid-leap from the porch (thank you, tactile-telekinesis).

"Uncle Jon!" he called out, "We're on."

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Current Mood: excited excited

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middle_amazon
jla_watchtower
middle_amazon
This plot takes place in a sort of bendy time way due to players schedules and therefore is going to take place time wise around different plots that are on going or have passed. Thank you for your understanding. - M

There's a lot of corn and soybeans out here...lots and lots and lots. Still, it's hard to get over the mystique of "this is where Superman was raised." You'd think working with him would kill the image a little. Not a chance. That's likely why some of these younger heroes piled into the van. Others, of course, are here for a weekend trip to the country without drama - which is tougher than it looks. The main reason people are here though is to support Kon and Cassie's ambitions to no longer have to sneak around in their civilian IDs in order to go on a date.

Whatever the reason though, the van keeps trucking along and it should be breaking down...

...About 30 miles sooner than expected due to running over a nail.

"And no one packed the spare..." Donna sighs.

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boy_of_steel
jla_watchtower
boy_of_steel
There were times when Connor Kent thanked whatever diety watched over half-human, half-Kryptonian teenage clones (and what a specific portfolio that was, really) for the endurance he'd inherited from his cousin.

Up all night, talking to Cassie on the phone, working out the plan. Then school, a full day, and a paper he'd only half-written, that he had to pour on the speed for in study hall, shattering two pencils he was writing so fast. Then chores back at the Kent homestead, including helping Uncle Jon do a full oil change on the tractor, which really wasn't anything more than holding it up while Uncle Jon did all the work, but still, it had a little bit of strain to it when you hadn't had a full night's sleep.

Which is why he was half-nodding off in the living room in front of the TV while Aunt Martha was making dinner. The scent of frying chicken woke him, as it usually did when he'd had a long day.

Now or never, Kon he thought, mopping his sweaty-palms on his jeans. And why is it fighting guys like Brother Blood and Darkseid doesn't make me this nervous?

"Aunt Martha?" he asked tentatively, poking his head into the kitchen. "Got a sec?"

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Current Mood: nervous nervous

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_nightwing_
jla_watchtower
_nightwing_
It's early afternoon, Pacific Time. Extra chairs have been arranged around the large briefing room table at Titans Tower, but it still feels somewhat cramped; even with some members teleconferencing in. Nightwing's been here for a couple hours already, going over notes, and, yes, making sure there's coffee on hand.

No, he isn't nervous about this at all.

Twenty Titans on the roster. It's a far cry from the earliest days when there was just four of them. He's still trying to wrap his head around this. As members file in, he greets them each with a nod. This is it, Grayson, he tells himself as he looks around at the assembled Titans. This is where the idea of Titans East sinks or swims.

He gets to his feet when he's certain everyone is here, and the speculative chatter stills.


Thank you all for being here. I'm not going to beat around the bush, so I'll get right to it. As you all saw from the briefing, this meeting is one of major importance to the future of the Titans. Simply put, the Tower wasn't ever built to hold twenty people, and we're starting to suffer because of it. There's only so much space for us to expand on the island, and I'm pretty sure you younger kids are tired of feeling like us old fogies are constantly looking over your shoulder.

A brief pause, as he looks around the room.

That's why we're proposing an expansion of the team. We'd like to reboot Titans East.

Brace for impact...

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Current Location: Titans Island, San Francisco
Current Mood: determined determined

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