Scenes set in the "Young Justice" universe.


Postby Superboy » Tue Jul 24, 2018 3:46 am

Conner didn't sleep, he didn't have to anymore. But sometimes, in the middle of a long night in Kansas, it was just about the only way to pass the time. After the neighbors had turned off their televisions, their radios, their police scanners, and other devices. After the last late evening conversation had ended. Before the wheat was ripe to harvest, and everything had already been fixed that needed fixing. That was when Smallville, Kansas really felt like a tiny place to him. That was when he would push open the old hayloft doors and let the night breeze blow through his tiny one room apartment. When he would stroll passed the pictures on the wall that showed all the people he'd once known, the friends he'd come to love, and the mentors long gone. The Team, the Titans, the League. All of them gone; decommissioned, drifted apart, and regulated into an ineffective bureaucratic mess respectively. Conner didn't own much, but the memories he'd made were important to him. The things he'd been given over the years treasured and tended to. Wolf had lived an unnaturally long life, owing no doubt to the genetic experiments done upon him before they'd met, and Sphere had moved on to fulfill it's destiny with the New Gods. The Kents had passed away decades ago and Conner had only seen Clark and Kara once more since the funeral. Neither of them were interested in him or the farm.

As he lay there in bed, gazing into the night sky and the infinite pinpricks of light that were the stars in the heavens, he thought back over his time as a hero. Two broken hearts and a love lost to the unstoppable march of time was all he could come up with. There was a kiss in there, one of admiration and respect, that he would hold onto the feeling of as well. The hero business had taught him his place, if nothing else. And even as his abilities had begun to increase he'd drifted away from the cause. Without his friends, his anger issues had returned. Without his mentors he had quickly become without direction, lumbering into situations blindly and brawling his way back out often without accomplishing anything other that drawing the attention of greater heroes. They would take over, move on, leave him behind, occasionally scolding him on the way out. So he'd just stopped trying. He didn't feel like they needed him, they certainly hadn't wanted him, and so he'd returned home. Where the Kents had lived, and Martha had welcomed him. Together they'd mourned the passing of her husband, the closest thing to a father Conner had ever had. And then, alone, Conner had mourned the passing of Martha as the closest thing to a mother he'd ever known.

And they'd left their three adopted children equal ownership of the incorporated land that was the Kent Farms Company. Except the other two hadn't been interested and Conner had taken over every aspect of its function. He'd fallen in love with the land and spent several decades carefully managing his contact with the community so that he could keep working it without people noticing his lack of aging. He didn't know if he was good at it or if the community had realized it was just better to leave well enough alone, perhaps realizing there was a link between his presence and the nearly non-existent crime rate of their small town. Meth had tried to come in once, only for their labs to burn down within minutes of starting up and the dealers to be found tied to the light pole outside the local Sheriff's office, the latter with a note detailing their crimes and signed with an all too familiar s-shaped symbol meaning "Hope". Quiet respect, he found he liked that far more than the adulation of the moment and definitely much more than the snide dismissal of his former peers. And, so, he'd remained on his farm. Farming. Making operating costs and splitting the profits into the three shareholder accounts, usually turning around and dumping his back into the upkeep of the place.

The world exploded in his head and Conner nearly fell out of bed. He'd let his awareness spread out into the distance and it had left him far too sensitive to what was right there in the room with him, meaning the alarm beep of some device nearby had sounded like a nuclear explosion in his head. He drew himself in quickly, in time for the second beep but it sounded a million miles away after the first sounding. Conner had to wait until the third go around before it came clearly enough for him to start to locate its source. His foot locker... Conner moved swiftly to open the lid, urgency driving his movements to become somewhat clumsy until frustration had him tear the lid clean off so he could dig through the things in a tray near the top. A yellow and black disk, thick enough to fit comfortably in even his hand despite its flattened shape. A double "T" moniker was emblazoned on its top surface, a light blinked in time with the alarm. It had been decades since he'd heard the jingle it played, decades since he'd spoken to anyone through the device. His heart went still as he pressed the button to open the device and accept the signal.


Latitude and Longitude followed, which was instantly translated by Conner's encyclopedic knowledge of world history into a location. Central City, Missouri. Didn't hesitate, he didn't deliberate, he reached into the torn open foot locker and withdrew a shirt while tearing his bed clothes from his body with the other hand. In the space of a minute, Superboy igniting a Fission Generator that in turn brought to life a device known as a Zetatube. "I hope you still work. Destination: Central City." "Identifying." A light scanned across him. "Error.... distinction.... updating.... B-Zero-Four, Superboy, Confirmed. Central City Zetatube now online, handshake protocol being established..." "NOW!" His shout shook the entire barn, under which the devices rested. "You may now pass through, have a nice day." Conner vanished through the portal at a dead run.


Raven threw herself out the window, the very essence of darkness swirling about her to end her descent and carry her down the street fast enough to make her cloak snap in the wind behind her. The shadows made her appear nothing but cloak and face, the mark on her forehead burning a dull red but hidden by her cowl. She'd donned it the night before, as the enemy had finally been evaded for long enough to get some rest. It had been fitful, paranoid, but better than the nothing of the three days before it. She didn't know why the guy was after her, she didn't know how he kept tracking her down, but no matter how hard she fled or how brutally she'd lashed out he'd always turned up again shortly after. His magic was terrifyingly superior to hers, though she readily admitted that she was merely an advanced dabbler. The man after her was a genuine caster, a magus of no mean mastery. He'd wiped her tentacles of darkness aside more than once, though he tended to shy away from the physical objects she threw at him from time to time. She'd quickly come to the realization that he wasn't very spry either, unless he was levitating already. Which was why she'd thrown herself out a window, because he wouldn't follow in the same manner. He'd cast his way through the wall, or go the long way around through a mundane exit. It didn't matter, he could cast near constantly without any discernible lessening of his effectiveness.

She couldn't claim the same, she'd let a lot slip over the last few years as she'd studied other things. Something was coming, and she'd been looking into it. She didn't even know what had made her grab her Titans communicator, but she definitely knew what had driven her to activate the help beacon. Desperation. Pure desperation. But all it had brought her was despair. Who would answer it? She didn't get an answer, even from herself, as she had to lurch hard to the right to slam painfully into a windshield. It didn't injure, it was laminated as all windshields were so it just collapsed under her weight and momentum. She shook off the shock of the impact and looked around wild eyed to find the guy, so she'd know which way to run. It was all she could do to get off the hood of the vehicle before the yellow light of the magical trap snapped shut around her former location. She leaped into the shadows of a nearby alleyway, vanishing there and bursting out at the other end in a matter of a heartbeat. Raven still almost didn't get clear of the next attack, using the shadows pulled to her flow upward and through another window. She was in a warehouse, and she could feel the exhaustion of the last four days dragging at her heels. It left her unable to respond to the flash of light that streaked past her, striking the structural support ahead of her.

She awoke slowly, her head in a cage of light, her arms bound to her sides and her ankles together by the same. Raven had been knocked out by the blast, and now she was being held captive by the guy... and for the first time she could really afford to focus on him. He was casting a complicated, intricate rune into the air that Raven could immediately tell was a gate key. Meant to open a portal to somewhere that wasn't just far away on the distance scale, but several realities away as well. For the fun of it, she decided to ask. "Where do you think you're sending me?" "You are talented, the very reason I have to do this. For everyone's safety, including your own, I am sending you to a place where you will no longer be dangerous." "What gives you the right to pass judgment on me?!" She sneered indignantly at the arrogance of his 'greater good' speech. Self-appointed authority on all that was right and good, it made her snort in derision. "You are the daughter of an incredibly powerful and destructive demonic entity, the subject of a doomsday prophecy that has yet to be fulfilled..." "Shows what you know." "Don't interrupt me child. If it had been fulfilled the world would be over. As long as you exist on this plane, you are a danger to every living creature calling the prime material home. I assure you, I know more about this matter than you do."

Raven gritted her teeth, furious at being scolded like she was a school girl. She didn't age at the rate of a human, but she no longer resembled a teenager. She appeared in her early twenties, and this guy was wanting to toss her through a portal to who knew where. He waved his hand, sparks of light flaring outward and into the seal. It spun, it opened, and darkness greeted them. Not her kind of darkness, not the shadows that she could draw to herself for power, but a creeping gray darkness. "This won't hold me, and you know it." She wasn't certain herself, but she was far from helpless when it came to interdimensional travel. She wasn't without hope that she could work her way back. "No, it won't," he responded. "Not forever. But long enough that I will be able to figure out a more permanent solution. With time to spare, even I would have trouble returning from the Phantom Zone and I am no mere dabbler in the Art." The man in blue and gold, his head encased in a full helmet of the same golden hue, gestured with his other hand and she lifted off the ground, her head aimed at the swirling fog of gray darkness like her whole body was an arrow. She struggled, she reached for her power but it was sealed, and she had the feeling it wouldn't work so well. She kicked her feet, she gnashed her teeth, she wrenched her shoulders. She did everything short of crying out for help. Raven determined she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of crying out in futility.

The guy turned toward the portal, gazing into its depths, his arm outstretched like he was about to make a side-arm throwing motion with her as the ball. "I'll see you in a hundred years, Raven." He turned his shoulders one way, in preparation, when the heavy wooden doors of the warehouse shattered. He spun in surprise, Raven tried to look but her position and restraints prevented it, but both of them had to look away as the splinters rained forcefully about them. It was a a brutal, if not fatal, mistake for the magus as it it meant he was almost entirely defenseless against the charging shoulder block delivered by the new arrival. The new guy ended his attack standing in a bladed position in the very spot Raven's judge/jury/and executioner had just stood, his back angled toward her, and standing tall. His upper body was clad in what appeared to be a black body glove with a high necked collar nd sleeves that ended in partial gloves, his lower body was a pair of combat pants bloused into black combat boots. The combination tickled her memory but a name didn't leap into Raven's mind immediately, mostly because she was more interested in what was happening to the magus. The caster had launched forth streams of light that had anchored themselves into the warehouse floor, and he appeared to be trying to claw his way out of the mouth of the portal desperately.

"Why!? You're supposed to be a hero," The magus cried in disbelief.
"I am. So is she. You're the only one here I have doubts about, Dr. Fate." The younger man replied.
"She's dangerous!" Dr. Fate cried out as he made a last ditch effort to pull himself from the swirling, clinging darkness.
"She's a Titan, she's supposed to be dangerous."

Dr. Fate's power began to flicker, his sounds of intense effort shifting as he had to let go of his distractions to maintain his position. Unfortunately, that decision was a double edged sword. For no sooner had he released Raven from the grip of his magically maintained restraints than she lashed out with all her might, a slash of darkness severing the anchor lines of magical force he was using to keep himself from falling into the depths of that portal. As he fell away, hollering his vexation, Raven's eyes flared red. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos!" She cried out the words with intensity, slamming shut the portal by unraveling the threads of the magical sigil he'd created as a key. And suddenly, as if nothing at all had ever happened aside from a shattered door, the warehouse was as peaceful as an tomb. She'd just sent Dr. Fate, a name she recognized now that she had a moment to consider the situation, to a prison dimension of his own choosing. He'd claimed he could get out, due to his understanding of the reality it occupied, in a shorter time than it would have taken her but... he still hadn't made it sound like something that would take a few minutes. She blinked as she was addressed.

"Are you alright?" Her rescuer had strolled over to her, his hand outstretched to help her to her feet so that it became the focus of her attention. Raven sighed and placed her hand in his, marveling slightly at the contrast of the two extremities. His was large, tough looking, and tan. Hers was pale, delicate looking, and dextrous. "I'm exhausted," she responded as he pulled her to her feet. "But, thanks to you, not banished to the outer reaches of reality." She had a hundred questions, ranging from who he was to how he had come to know that she had once been a Titan, but they all fell by the wayside when her eyes landed upon his chest. Right in the middle of it was the answer to several of those question, a blood-red stylized 'S' framed by a shield. Wide, violet eyes ventured up to take in a timeless face that to her eyes put him anywhere between a mature 16 and a youthful 20-something due to the combination of strong features and unlined skin. No patches of gray at his temples, which meant she was staring at one of the few Titans she had never met. "You're... Superboy..." she said haltingly. "Yes," he replied with a hint of a smile at one corner of his mouth.
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Re: Titans

Postby Superboy » Tue Aug 14, 2018 1:11 am

She awoke in two stages and, as always, the first stage was her mind. Her advanced mental and emotional discipline came with a wide variety of side benefits. One of those benefits, though Raven occasionally regretted it with great intensity, was an almost eidetic recollection of her mental and emotional states right through the effects of overload. She'd passed out, simple as that. There had been the tickle of dawning relief as she realized that she was safe, a Titan had answered her call even if it wasn't a Titan that she personally knew. But that tickle had unleashed a flood of exhaustion as the long running battle, sleepless days, and restless nature of the sleep that she had gotten that one night had caught up with her. Without an active danger to keep her walls up, she'd just succumb to it all. She had the vague recollection that she'd been caught, fleeting glimpses of a sideways world that suggested she'd cracked her eyes as she was jostled while being carried.

As her physical body caught up with her mind she felt cotton around her. Medium thread count, a simple sage green, and it smelled faintly of... plums? She would have never claimed to like the scent of a fruit but... somehow it just seemed comforting in that moment and comfort was exactly what the doctor ordered. She sank deeper in the sheets, her barely cracked-open eyes closing once again and letting the warmth of the bed carry her back into the comforting depths of sleep. She awoke again and it was light out, she knew because the room around her was flooded with the kind of light that could only come from the sun. If she hadn't slept so long... and she could feel in her bones it had been a long time... she would have been annoyed about the uncurtained window. But she let her eyes adjust from beneath the relative shade of the green sheets but she could already tell she needed to get up for her necessities. Food, a shower, a change of clothes. She was still wearing her singlet, though the neck had been loosened for her, presumably by the boy of steel. She smirked at the sense of modesty that had no doubt led to his putting her down in an outfit that had seen so much action but schooled her face back to neutrality before pulling back the covers.

Only to gape at what greeted her. The sun was above the edge of the opening but it was a perfect angle to emphasize what lay before her. A large barnloft door was wide open, slid to the side to open the entire room to the world outside and what a world. A gently waving sea of amber-gold wheat, moving in ripples in a gentle summer breeze. And it stretched nearly as far as the eye could see, finally broken by the thin ribbon of a county road. The road was a light gray, lightly traveled and thus repaved rarely enough that it had bleached to almost white in the clear midwestern sun. Raven nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke, spinning around to find Superboy in civilian clothing sitting in a chair at a kitchen table that was covered with paperwork and opened envelopes. "My father, the adoptive one, used to call it a hell of a view. Right after he checked his immediate surroundings to make sure his wife didn't catch him cursing," Conner said, absently, not looking up from the bill he was writing a check out for. Jonathan and Martha Kent had never ceased to amaze their second adopted son, and he still had yet to find another pair of humans much like the two.

"He was right," she responded as her heart rate worked it's way back to normal. If he wasn't going to acknowledge the startle then she was fine not discussing it either. She looked more closely at what he was doing, struck by the oddity of a superhero paying bills, even though she was aware that most of them did so at one point or another. He had a book full of checks, each page holding four such items attached to a row of accounting receipts that he could refer back to later after tearing out the check and sending it to whomever he needed to pay. He finished writing the check, quickly noted the details on the receipt it was attached to, and turned the bill over onto another pile before beginning to investigate the one that had just been unearthed by that action. "How long was I asleep?"

"Just over 26 hours, are you hungry? Thirsty? Something else?" Conner looked genuinely curious, and seemed to put some emphasis on the something else as if she would know what the significance was. "... what do you mean, something else?" Raven asked slowly. "I have Martian nutrition paste, Thanagarian military rations, some stuff that Zatanna asked to store here and never came back for... I think it's magical. None of it ever goes bad, apparently." He hadn't seen Zatanna in two decades so he hoped she wouldn't get mad if she ever turned up looking for that stuff. He didn't get hungry, had no idea what it was, and thus had no intention of ever injesting it either but... if Raven wanted it, he wouldn't keep her from it. She had to be ravenous, if she was of the type to eat in the first place. He didn't, she might not. "Do you... have any waffles?" Superboy's face broke into a smile and he pushed up out of his chair. "I was a Titan," he responded as he headed for the kitchen with a grin.
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