15774/Injustice For All: Side Jobs

Injustice For All: Side Jobs
Date of Scene:	11 September 2023
Location:	Tricorner Island
Synopsis:	The Injustice League shows themselves again, attempting the hijack a cargo ship from the Gotham Beast as his long sought after ambitions are finally crushed. An ecclectic group of heroes insured that their plans would not succeed. At least not entirely...
Cast of Characters:	Barry Allen, Monet St. Croix, Cole Cash, Phoebe Beacon, Oliver Queen, Belinda Gutierrez, Kyle Rayner
Tinyplot:	Injustice For All

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Barry Allen has posed:
While the unrelenting summer's heat might have faded somewhat, this is still Gotham City. So if the weather can't inconvenience you one way, it is sure to do so in another.

Unsurprisingly tonight is suitably dark and stormy for the city, the dark skies blotting out all traces of the moon and stars with those unbroken, unrelenting slate grey clouds that fill the sky. A steady rain falls, not in sheets fortunately, but bit wet droplets that will completely soak through everything and leaves a faintly unpleasant odour hanging in the air.

Definitely no pleasant spring shower this.

Tricorner Island serves as one of the biggest ports on the Eastern Seaboard and there is activity at all hours of the date as a result, even as the hour creeps closer to midnight then the onset of sunset. Ships will continue to make berth and set sail throughout the night, under the careful direction of the harbormaster and his assistants.

But it is one particular cargo ship that has captured much of the attention this evening. One that even now is crawling its way towards it's waiting berth, the steel and concrete wharf having been cleared out. Even the port authority watchmen who should be on duty are nowhere to be seen and the gathered toughs that stand in a group do not look like official teamsters in any way, shape or form.

Nothing happening on this dock tonight is legal or authorized, that much is certain.

Under normal circumstances this is not the sort of thing that would draw the attention of members of the Justice League or the wider heroic community. It is not as if Gotham doesn't have plenty of protectors of their own. Ones that know the ins and outs of the city exceedingly well. Far better than any outsider.

But with the recent revelations that a rather large number of criminals are working together towards a common goal, well, things are getting a little more dangerous these days. And while finding out anything about this group has proved... difficult, word did slip only hours before that they had a certain interest in a cargo ship arriving tonight. At this wharf. At this hour.

That was excuse enough for Barry Allen -- The Flash -- to spread the word through numerous contacts and go betweens just what to expect.

And the issue of getting to Gotham? Well, that's not much of a problem for the Fastest Man Alive -- or at least one of them. Already a streak of red and gold burts through the shipyard entrance, racing along the many wharfs and warehouses, past heavy cranes unloading giant cargo containers as he searches for this particular one in question.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She's normally not caught up in this sort of thing, but she's had a few previous incidents with these villains. So she's in the loop when it occurs. So when she's passed along an alert, Monet goes to head to the area. With the wretched weather going on she's gone to the trouble of taking an umbrella with her and moving to protect herslf from the rain. Ugh, the weather will ruin her outfit. The smog and misery -alone- will need a spa day to get out of her system. She hates Gotham.

But it's just miserable, not nearly as pretentious as Metropolis, not nearly as egoistical as 'the city of tomorrow' calls itself and thinks. So, she tolerates it slightly more. As she goes to arrive in the shipyard area, she goes to start sweeping along telepathically.

AFter the last time, she's expecting trouble. And a group of supervillains should be detectable if one is trying to find them? Even if they're being psionically blocked that should show up to a telepath. An area being walled 'off' mentally should show up at some level, even for a highly skilled one.

Cole Cash has posed:
Above the docks, there's a nice big sign. 'NO SMOKING'.

Cole Cash, currently in his Grifter gear crushes out his cigarette on the sign and pulls out his pack. Patting it in the meat of his palm a few times, he pulls out a fresh cig and sticks it in his mouth as he fishes around in his pockets for a lighter.

With the cranes moving around cargo, he's keeping an eye out. His shop nearby has recently opened and with this shipment that is coming in, he has heard through the grapevine (and a message from Waller) about the arrival time.

As his fishes out his lighter, he strikes it and lights up, taking a couple of drags. A large sniper rifle is nearby as he has chosen this for his nest to provide overwatch. Call it his good deed for... the decade, probably.

He feels the tingle of Monet's scans and has faith that his own psionic shields will keep her in check. "Sorry, not bluetooth compatible." he grunts as he takes another drag, blowing a puff of smoke out.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Gotham doesn't have time to be pretentious; it's beating up someone in a back alley for spare change.

    Gotham City is Phoebe's home turf, but she's not repping the Bats tonight. She wanted the full extend of her abilities, and for that there's give-and-take, so the Oriole is roosted.

    Tonight she is Balm, and she's doing her own tracking, hanging upside-down from a tall cargo crane, her hood catching a little of the water as the rain strikes her back, and she watches the spin of her pendelum, the rose quartz and rose gold a small, glowing spot in the dark night. This may be the city of misery and woe -- but to her?

    This is Home.

    She straightens her legs and falls towards the darkness of the water, but there's never a splash -- just the sound of a grapple fire, the tensile line catching, and the movement of a body-sans-cape through the rainy air, blue-glowing optics keeping a running feed.

Oliver Queen has posed:
The notice is a little on the late side for one Oliver Queen. Not everyone can run a million miles an hour BARRY.

Regardless, the Emerald Archer is calling New York City home these days which is a much shorter commute then trying to make it across the country from Star City. And while he might be more then a little busy with his war with the Triad currently controlling much of Hell's Kitchen, he can rely on his partners in that endeavor to hold down the fort for at least one night.

Enough time to look to even the odds a little after the pantsing that they have received at the hands of this new collection of villains. And especially the dumb ape that seems to lead them.

Grodd.

For all that he is not a speedster, Green Arrow has still managed to beat his fellow Leaguer here and is currently perched on the roof of a nearby warehosue overlooking the indicated wharf. And sure enough, it definitely looks like something shady is going down. None of the thugs standing out there look to be of the particularly nefarious, dangerous or even intelligent variety. But this is where things are supposed to go down, so this is where he is, bow drawn, arrow nocked as his eyes flicker about the area even as that massive ship comes into dock.

"...then I'm gonna stick a banana on the end of my arrow and fire it so far up that dumb ape's..." Ollie mutters to himself as he keeps that ready eye out for trouble, pulling his hood up a little higher as the rain drips off of it. Again, he takes a quick peek at his bow, checking on the string and sheltering it as best he can as he settles in.

<< Why aren't you here yet? >> Oliver asks over the comms. << For a Speedster you have a knack of being pretty late, you know. >>

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Dark. Moonless. Harsh scents. Too few lights, but hellishly bright where they appear. Miserable. Yet...

Energetic. Vibrant. Industrious. Dillligent. The sheer focus of the place is a wonder, utterly different from anything in New Mexico. Even in New York-- so few places seem to compare! And sadly, somberly, the perfect place for those of more questionable motives to assemble and do their dirty work.

Hidden in the shadows far from bright lights, where flashing beacons rarely shine, the Wolf of New York stalks in silken silence. Getting better at being stealthy, but... still a ways to go. Much to learn. And just one of the reasons she has come to the waterfront of Gotham.

Silverdane.

To psychic senses, her thoughts ripple like cool water-- a calm surface above potential, waiting to burst into action, into fierce frenzy. Nostrils quiver as she scents at the nearby stacked crates, focusing as she puts her senses to use. No nosecrab sensors for her; keen smell works through the smells of heavy grease, of diesel and fuel oil, or a hundred chemical residues, old lunches from dockworkers. And that is the main reason for being in place. Rumours of guns.

A drop in the bucket to stop tonight's shipment, if possible, but even a single leak, held, can save a dam.

Hunt.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Kyle keeps the brush to canvas. As he continues to paint, a blue tooth speaker blares The Cure's "Pictures of You." With each stroke, Kyle mouths the words to the song. While he wants to create some kind of comic book, sometimes he'll change mediums or focus. It's cheap therapy and he thinks it keeps the willpower sharp. How can someone be emotional when they've left most of it on a canvas?

Right now he's wearing a pair of blue jeans that are littered with various paint smudges and stains. Some are fresh, most are from previous projects. A faded maroon shirt is on his person that bares the Flash's symbol. It's unofficial, but Kyle liked the colors. Also, it's cheap enough he could turn it into a "work shirt." Win-win.

The next song starts to push forward, but he pauses it. "Sorry Trent," he thought his communicator went off. Somehow these communications make it down the Titan Grapevine. "The other job calls," dark brown eyes flick to the green ring on his hand. A bit of focus and a flash of green light causes everything on Kyle's person to change. Now dressed in the uniform, he gives a nod to himself and pushes off to the skies.

While in flight he will try to adjust the communicator trying to get into a League Channel or something similar, the message he gives s the same. "Green Lantern," pause he had to think of a call sign or something. People are expecting another lantern or two. "Call sign 'Ion,' reporting. Need some intel on tonight's big fish," the latter message lack the pregnant pause.

Responses, or not, Kyle will be in Gotham's skies. Looking at rooftops he starts to consider vantage points from high, but his brain thinks on it. "Isn't Gotham secretly secured by ninjas posing as Bats? Don't they own the shadows ten-fold?" Kyle sees himself standing out between a sea of birds and bats.

Pause. A new idea hits him. He'll push upward in the sky try to get mistake as something in space, or stay hidden in clouds. When he gets so far away from shore he'll loop around and go down sharply.

"SPLASH!" Kyle keeps the force field around himself and starts to head back toward the shore. He figures no one is going to cover the vantage point that comes from beneath. Yes, this takes more time but it could pay off. He'll try the coms again, "Need some visual details on the ship. I'll be in position soon. Just tell me something, 'What would Aquaman do?'" Oh, this is a big hint where the Lantern will be poised.

Barry Allen has posed:
If the rumors are true, the shipment onboard that cargo ship is weighted down with both drugs and weapons -- the last gasp of the Beast's efforts to make inroads into Gotham City's underground. For a time, the former assassin turned mercenary the KGBeast looked as if he might have a measure of success in seizing control of Gotham's criminal enterprises.

Those days are long in the past though and now this is his one last gambit to try and reclaim some of that footing.

Chances are he didn't count on attracting attention from not only his competitors in the Gotham Underworld, but a whole host of heroes as well.

Ooops.

The huge cargo ship finally comes to a complete rest and huge mooring lines are quickly tied off, the gathered heavies nearby breaking up from their little group chat. A pair of men clamber up into the waiting crane, starting to bring it online while the rest of the men start to fan out, submachine guns and pistols emerging from beneath jackets as they start to fan out to form a perimeter.

Something they probably should have done long before now. The Beast might have commanded a force of well trained mercs once, but he is down to the dregs now. And it shows.

<< I'm here, I'm here. Just checking out the rest of the shipyard. I'm definitely not lost or anything, >> Barry counters over the comms, only pausing when Kyle's voice crackles over those same JLA frequencies. << We have limited intel here unfortunately. We know some local player, probably the Penguin is looking to seize the shipment. But who else might be involved is an open question. We've run into Grodd and pretty much all the Rogues. Deathestroke. Metallo. Some giant woman and some sorceress. So be ready for just about anything, >> the Flash urges as he streaks into view of that wharf.

Just in time to watch things get messy. Again it is like a veil drops and all of a sudden the hired thugs on the dock find themselves surrounded by at least twice their number.

But it's not just thugs with guns.

Before anyone can even let out a cry the armored form of one man steps forward out of the shadows, gun levelled as a burst of cold lashes forth and turns about a half dozen of the Beast's men into icicles, frozen in place. Not Captain Cold this time, no. Suitably, for Gotham, there is no doubt that this is Mr. Freeze.

Another figure, this one in a slinky costume of copper and green suddenly lashes out with that tail, sending a pair of the not-quite competent guards flying before that tail lashes back and coils around the neck of a third man, starting to choke the literal life out out of him. Copperhead.

Not necessarily the biggest heavyweights. But more then a match for the thugs on guard. And their own force of twenty-plus hired guns hasn't even had to fire a shot yet.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would watch thoughtfully and move to stay out of observation. <<I know it goes against what most of you prefer, but engaging wiht a minimum of force is likelier to yield the best results. There will likely be external assets from the Legion of Supervillains or whatever pithy name they call themselves. The longer this is drawn out, the likelier they'll resond in force because thier timetable has been thorwn off. Several of their likely mission planners are control freaks, and many of the team do not handle extended periods of commands. The moer thier timetable is drawn out, the less control they're likely to have and the more they hvae to improvise and go agaisnt thier plans. IF we appear in force instantly and neutralize the locals, we're likelier to be drawn into another strike>>
    She doesn't expect the others to necessarily go along with the idea, but it's what she's thinking of at the moment. There's no reason ot expect a large scale arms shipment will draw more than the crazed local criminal yokels out - nothing that isn't hard to contain. And there are few civilians in the area - most Gotham residents know enough to stay out of here at htis itme of night and this area. Sort of like how the policek nows only to arrive as soon as the heroes have the bad guys tied up.

Cole Cash has posed:
As the container is arriving and the cornocopia of villains start to arrive, Cole hisses between his teeth. "Shit. Showtime." Taking the cigarette out of his mouth after puffing out a last breath of smoke, he uses two fingers to smash the glowing cherry at the end of the cig and sticks it in his pocket.

Pulling down his bandana masks, the white eyes glow for a moment as they switch over to night vision. He heads over to where his rifle was set up and kneels down. He hefts the weapon into position, chambering a round with a solid cha-chunk! and peers down the sight towards the gathering forces.

Reaching up with his non-trigger hand, he flicks on his communicator. <<Rooftop overwatch in position. Five by five.>> It's on a frequency that Waller had the techs crack, allowing the Suicide Squad to communicate - and maybe be heard by local heroes.

If not, it's no sweat off his back as he digs a kneepad into the rooftop and smirks slightly. "Big fish in a little pond."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <<Flash. Ion. Arrow. M. Overwatch, Welcome to Gotham.>> Balm's voice comes over the line. <<Silverdane, acknowledge if you're on the line.>> Balm states, swinging up overhead as she pulls her hood tighter over her shock of pink hair. <<Unfortunately the more dour locals are on other business, so you've got Balm tonight, nice to know everyone is happy to be talkati-->> she's cut off momentarily as the flash of Freeze's ice gun goes off, freezing a number of the thugs solid.

    <<Try not to get hit by that?>> she offers a good-natured advice.

    <<Use non-lethal if at all possible. I don't think anyone wants to have that conversation tonight.>>

    And she whips a couple of smokebombs out, dropping into a nearby alley between buildings to try and remove some of the thugs from the Hot Zone -- via grabbing them in the confusion and dragging them away for a free set of ziptie cuffs and a nap!

Oliver Queen has posed:
<< Uh huh. Sure you're not, >> Oliver chimes in helpfully. << You want me to send up a flare arrow so you can find your way or are you just going to cheat and try all the combinations? >>

As that ship finally makes berth below, the Green Arrow turns his attention back to the matter at hand. << Personally, I'm hoping for Grodd again. I have an arrow to stick in that monkey. Some place particularly unpleasant. Where you don't want a boxing glove arrow to go. >> Which, in fairness could be a lot of places. There's not really anywhere good to take a boxing glove arrow. As a general rule there isn't really anywhere good to take an arrow of any variety when you get right down to it.

And then all hell breaks lose and people are suddenly being encased in ice and being strangled by snake tails. No big ol' ape though. Not yet. << Looks like that sorceress is pulling that invsibilty trick again, >> Ollie grouses, settling into a crouch, kneeling there on the rooftop before abruptly letting his nocked arrow fly. It cuts through the raining sky, suddenly bursting open above a group of gunmen below, a heavy, weighted net suddenly spewing forth to drop on them, entangling limbs and weapons under them.

<< Think that's all of them? This might not be so bad... >>

Yeah, he just had to go and say it.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
It's a sound Silverdane did not wish to hear again-- too high-pitched for human hearing, but the way the air just silently shrieks when the ice gun erupts-- like a wounded beast's agony. A heartbeat's flashback, then the Wolf Woman moves-- lunging from shadow to overhang, to moving crane, down to slick concrete pier and forward like a gunshot. The whirling net from above unsnaps in the air; spinning bodies, surprised shouts, the clatter of a dropped weapon-- all caused and captured as stealth goes out the window for the charing creature.

Because lives may be at stake now, and even criminals--!

Silverdane bursts onto the scene, a sudden snarl of fury as she annonces her presence witha growl. "Am here!" she utters with feral exhuberance (and for the tiny commbead chiming cheerfully in her ear!). "Let them /GO/," she adds, rising to jagged height. Just tall enough to stare at Freeze, eye-to-eye. "....now," she adds warningly, glaring, teeth bared and claws like daggers.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
<<You did not just say that.>> Kyle chimes in. <<You're just inviting anything to come into this fight when you talk like that.>> Focusing on the energy field around him the portion over the right arm extends into what looks like a flat blade. Maybe a thin screwdriver, or a painter's knife. It's neither, it's a jackhammer's spade. Leaning back, he strikes at the spot under the ship where he's at. "CLANG!" Pause. <<Expect a distraction>>

Rearing the right arm back. "CLANG!" Oh, Kyle is going to work on boarding the ship in a very very unconventional way. "CLANG!" He focuses on the ship. The water may drown the noise out on one side. However, those inside the ship it sounds like someone is banging on it, HARD.

Remembering fighting with Kryptonians and fighting against alien tech, he keeps that resolve going. The plan is simple, get his spade inside the ship, make the hole bigger similar to how the T-1000 opened the elevator doors. Watch the metaphorical fireworks. Keep the ship from sinking. It's hard to move cargo if the sea is trying to swallow it. The Lantern is committing to the Atlantean bit.

Barry Allen has posed:
While the men on the wharf were clearly not prepared for any trouble, such is not the case when it comes to those onboard the ship. Apparently the Beast of Gotham still has a few teeth left and a willingness to use them.

As chaos errupts on the wharm below a half-dozen men sporting automatic rifles rise up from their positions at the edge of the ship's deck, levelling their weapons towards the men on the docks below. Among them? The KGBeast himself, that veritable arm cannon amongst the weapons leveled. "It appears that the Penguin was too much of a coward to come himself. No matter. Kill them all," he says before that weapon that completely engulfs his left arm begins to spin and spit out heavy rounds down on those below.

It is not a bad trap. Not perfect or else the Beast would have had other gunmen stationed at the high points surrounding the dock to make a true kill box. But it still is enough to turn things back in his favor. Or it would if there was only those men below to worry about.

Almost immediately, those that can scatter do so as automatic gunfire slams into nearby crates and the conccrete of the wharf -- along with anyone not so fortunate to be able to clear out of the way. Nor are the men on the ship particularly picky about just who they target, looking to rain down death on anyone down below.

Despite seemingly being stopped in their tracks, Mr. Freeze and Copperhead appear to be mostly undoubted, quickly taking cover. That deadly tail lashes out now and then, tripping up any of the Beast's thugs that venture close enough, leaving them a sprawled and helpless target for the gunmen on the ship.

For his part Mr. Freeze crouches behind a crate, his gaze alternating between the hsip and the seeming attack from the rooftop of the nearby warehosue, firing out alternating blasts of cold towards both ship and warehouse. "Gas masks on. Now," the armored man says coldly as he turns to face the approaching werewolf bearing down on him. The gun is levelled, aimmed and fired though not at Silverdane directly. Instead he begins to form a wall of ice to cut off her approach.

The reason? That becomes apparent moments later when two more armed thugs emerge from that veil of invisibility. The pair are already wearing their gas masks and the level grenade launches towards the ship and wharf in turn. Seconds later grenades begin to land in both places, clouds of sickly green gas beginning to expand. Tear gar? No. Something far more insidious and perhaps recognizable to the locals.

That is most definitely Scarecrow's fear toxin. Now unleashed and wafting on the evening breeze.

Even the noise of the gunfire up on the deck can't completely blot out the sounds of Ion's work beneath the ship proper, slowly prying open a hole in that massive cargo ship. The hull is undoubtedly sturdy. But not anywhere near sturdy enough to resist the will of a Green Lantern.

Racing along the wharf, as he notes the gunfire from above, the Flash starts to concentrate on moving those downed or otherwise encased in ice out of the line of fire. Like Balm said, no need to invite lectures from the Big, Bad Bat. But as that green gas starts to spread, to cut off easy avenues across the dock, Barry's voice sounds on the shared comm once more. << Mmmmm, that doesn't look particular good, >> he notes.

Definitely Ollie's fault.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Interesting. Very, very interesting. Monet knows on an intellectual level what the fear toxin can do. She also has no wish to get practical experience with it. She knows that attempting to engage him mentally isn't likely to do much.. So they need an alternative to take him out in the cloud!

<<Do you have something like a tornado arrow that can suck all of the gas up into the air?>> That's sent over to Green Arrow. There's got to be one of them that can do something with it. But that large dispersal has put this into the circumstance of 'has to be tkaen seriously'. The risk of collateral damage is now too high.
    THe most dangerous one present otherwise is Mister Freeze. Monet goes to take a moment. How to engage himw ithout necessarily fighting him and risking injuring him.. Or being hit by his weapon. She's definitely not strong enough to take him telepathically and he has the reflexes to deal with her if she speed blitzes him. The others can take out Copperhead. All right, she needs something that can hit him to bypass his defenses..
    <<Balm, Arrow, Lantern, project every single jocular commentary you have on his state and I'll send it to his consciousness.>> That's said over the comm. She basically wants them to think of every single ice pun that can be made and then she'll send them all right to Freeze's brain.

Cole Cash has posed:
'Use non-lethal if at all possible. I don't think anyone wants to have that conversation tonight.'

Great, there's a Batling down there someplace. That's the problem with Gotham, you cannot get any appreciation for a quick kill shot that quickly de-escalates a situation. When Oliver announces a flare arrow, Grifter quickly flips off the night-vision. He does NOT need to be blinded tonight, thank you very much.

When Belinda arrives and speaks up all heroically, he mentally facepalms. "It's amateur night." he grumbles beneath his breath.

<<So since the concensus is no to me headshoting KGBeast from here, can I at least kneecap him?>> he asks over the comms as he works on adjusting his aim. He's not worried about Scarecrow and the toxin. His mask is more than capable of filtering that out.

Did you know that the Barret M107 .50 cal sniper rifle is an Australian company, but is made in Christiana, TN? With all hell breaking loose on the docks, he's immediately aiming for the shipbound jerk. His breath steadies and slows. He catches it and in the slow release, his finger feathers the trigger. A loud *KRAK!* of the rifle, a report of fire, dust flying on the rooftop as the muzzle flash as explosives push the round down the rifled barrel and towards KGBeast's shoulder.

"Eat Capitalism, you dirty Commie!"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <<You *had* to say something -->> Balm's voice doesn't sound irritated at all -- and she finishes leaving a couple goons safely deposited behind the dumpster as she leaps up, and her domino alerts her to the fear gas -- because as much as she usualy lets her healing factor handle things... you really don't wanna see a magician on uncontrolled Fear. That's bad.

    She runs to the edge of the fire scape, blue lenses upcast as she drops her rebreather into her mouth.

    <<I've got the the toxin gas. Silverdane -- *stay Upwind*. If anyon estarts to feel twitchy, ping me. I can neutralize it>>

    She grips her hands together, and the fingertips of her gloves begin to glow as lines trace over the backs of her hands.

    <<Probably>>

    The magician brings her words down low, trailing, lilting and musical as she summons the winds, and tries to send the toxin up and over the ocean, trying to disperse it quickly and harmlessly as possible. <<Going to need a neutralizing agent dropped on my position for Fear Toxin, pinging location now.>>

Oliver Queen has posed:
He has a lot of arrows.

Taser arrows, net arrows, boxing glove arrows. He's got oil-slick arrows, glue arrows and flash arrows. Arrows of all sorts. << Uuuh, I don't think I have anything that can make tornados. Something to aspire to though. I could shoot a few explosive arrows but that would probably just spread it out even more," he acknowleges.

Maybe that will be Plan B. He'll think on it.

In the meantime he keeps an eye out for any targets of opportunity. It is definitely a little trickier with them all seeking cover, but each time one of them pops out of cover he lets one of his arrows fly. One of them is pinned to the nearby crate by an arrow. Another one gets hit by a taser arrow square in the chest, sending arcs of blue electricity through him before dropping like a stone.

And of course one of the jerks launching fear toxin everywhere gets that required boxing glove arrow to the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the concrete wharf.

Somewhere out there Emiko will be shaking her head at him.

<< Oh good, looks like you've got a solution to the tornado thing. So I shall make with the puns. Have an ice day. Ice and easy does it. Ice to meet you. I am the frozen one. Icy what you did there, >> Ollie chimes in helpfully.

<< You're a monster by the way. >> Harsh, but possibly fair.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane is fast, but not that fast; a snarl carries from her lips as she surges forward, a springing leap carrying her into the air. Up, over, almost... Claws scrabble against too-slick ice, a frustrated howl rising as she leaves great gouges in the ice wall-- falling to a most inglorious end, slamming to the concrete with a crunch.

The fall is hard, but the Wolf is quick to rise, react, every sense quivering at alert-- eyes widening in shock.

Odorless. Tasteless. Scrabble to halt! Hold breath, don't breathe, don't--

Freezing in place. Don't move. Ignore the bullets hammering down all around. Can Fear Toxin travel through rapidly-closing wounds? And instead of all those 'Ice, Ice Baby' puns... only one question.

How long can you hold your breath?

Kyle Rayner has posed:
The motions from Kyle are slow, the spade gets through. Green light pours into the room and the spade starts to widen as Kyle raises his second arm. Focusing the spade separates into two hook-like tools. Sharp. Pointy. Totally stolen from a James Cameron film.

The motions are deliberate, timed and in no rush. Hearing Monet, he'll focus on that when going to the next phase of his plan.

In his mind he'll think, <<Robin Hood probably knew not to say things like that in Sherwood. I still can't believe you said that. Why don't you ask for a planet eater to come down next?! I think you owe everyone a drink and a good meal.>> If Kyle had any idea of Ollie's wealth, it would be request with a bigger price tag.

The banter actually keeps his mind clear. This keeps his mind sharp and he starts to widen the hole. Metal groans and bends as Kyle creates that hole. It may sound like the ship is screaming or having a really bad stomach ache.

He'll focus everything back into an energy orb around himself. It's wide enough to act as a plug, for now.

<<I'm inside the ship. Anything we're looking for?>> Kyle chimes on the com. The lantern waits for a moment. -When- someone enters the room he'll ask an important question, "Ever see the Film Titanic?" and a smile will spread over his lips. "I do like a good James Cameron movie, don't you?" He has the perfect construct just waiting to magnify the damage. He doesn't clue them in on what would happen if his concentration becomes broken for any reason.

Barry Allen has posed:
The fear toxin was definitely a surprise and the few down on the wharf that Barry does not have a chance to get to start to succumb before Balm brings her magical powers to bear to start to deal with it.

The bigger problem is up on the cargo ship proper where a few of the grenade launcher cannisters land and spill open, catching three of the Beast's hired gunmen in the blast. Almost at once the terrified screams start and while two of then men simply drop their rifles and cower, the third just shrieks at the top of his lungs and spins in a circle, pumping out burst after burst of wild fire in all directions.

Fortunately, the KGBeast's mask seems to have a filter built in, or at least he doesn't seem effected by those clouds of toxins. He starts to rise from his crouch, starts to turn that spinning mini-gun towards his own man, prepared to cut him down before that stray fire can endanger him.

Which is when Grifter's shot takes him right in the shoulder. As big as he is, the Beast spins around before collapsing to the deck of the ship.

That ice wall seems to hold, seems to keep that werewolf at bay and when that sharp crack sounds, Mr. Freeze whirls, a steady stream of ice shooting out towards Grifter's emplacement.

For his part, Copperhead surveys the scene through those slit-eyes of his, seeming to crouch in on himself. Then he suddenly pounces with sruprising strength, hurling himself towards where Balm concocts her magical remedy for that ominious fear toxin.

On the rooftop behind Oliver a shape detaches itself from the shadows, treading silently. For just an instant one of the lights below glints off the bared blade in the masked man's hands. It is the only warning he gets as that blade starts to descend. "I told you to watch you back, kid," Deathstroke the Terminator says to his old friend, his old enemy.

It is certainly one way to enter the ship. It definitely has the advantage of being unexpected, that much is for sure and the pair of guards down in the cargo hold are certainly taken aback by Ion's appearance. Do they understand him? That's debatable. Certainly what they shout back at him seems to be in some Eastern European dialect, instead of English and the fact that they open up with gunfire towards that glowing green orb suggests that they might not fully understand the situation.

As it turns out however, Kyle is not the only one lurking beneath the waves tonight and suddenly a pair of bright red energy blast lash out from those dark waters, slamming into his green construct from behind. For a moment it is not clear just where they came from. But then a pair of bright red eyes gleam out of the darkness from a diving suit of pure black. Black Manta.

Most startling of all might be when the entire cargo ship itself lurches, as if suddenly lifted by a big wave. But the waters remain still. Still, inch by inch that massive ship begins to rise up, slowly lifting up out of the water entirely.

<< Ummmm, are any of you doing that? >> the Flash asks as he races amongst the crates, continuing to evacuate the injured and unconscious from the fray.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Lovely, that's when the expected interlopers come to arrive. Monet goes to broadcast a telepathic, and then verbal warning along things to the others that might not necessarily be in the complete network. <<We should neutralize the local threats immediately if they do not extricate htemselves. We cannot divide our priorities here>> Even as she braces, going to try and telepathically pick up what's coming out of the water. Black Manta - one that she's only familiar wtih by research on the Atlantean royal hierarchy after the 'issues' of a couple ofyears ago between Atlantis and Genosha which had very fortunatenly resolved themselves without major issue.

She goes to try and telepathically search into the water - trying to get an idea for who or what is lifting the thing. To try and identify them sos he can come up with a plant o neutrlize them. The issue being that someone able to lift the at minimum fifteen thousand ton fully loaded cargo ship is going to be able to outpower all of them at once.

So her goal is to try and rapidly determine who they are as best she can.

Cole Cash has posed:
<< The commie mutant traitor is down. >> comes Grifter's report.

When he hears Kyle over the comms, Grifter groans. "He's going to make an iceberg." He hits his comm, << Icebergs are dumb and slow, make torpedos! >> he calls out, because it's the truth!

He pulls back the handle, kicking out the spent shell casing as he loads a fresh round. Once it's loaded, he's ducking down to aim again. << And there was plenty of room on that door, Rose was a selfish bitch. >> he adds as he continues to scan. "Okay, fine, non-lethal shots, non-lethal."

His attention swings up to the crane, and the container hanging off of it. Shooting the line holding the container is non-lethal. He can't help it if people don't dodge out of the way.

Adjusting his aim, Grifter settles on the hook release of the crane. Another careful squeeze of the trigger sends a round towards the the line to snap it off and send the container tumbling towards the dock!

He is chambering a fresh round when he hears a familiar voice nearby.

<< Fuck, Colonel. What are you doing out here? >> he asks of Slade. They served together, he knows him well. And if he's here, shit's done gone sideways.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The fear toxin is air lifted and sent wafting out over the ocean. Anxiety is gonna spike for the fishes, but at least we're not going to have any superheroes encountering their fearful selves tonight, and Balm almost breathes easily -- until she catches the light off Copperhead's costume, coming right at her. She gives a yelp as she's struck, rolling with the punches, a cut from the iron of the fire escape forming on her chin before it heals itself, reversing simply as if it was never there.

    She breathes out as she draws back to a stand, regarding copperhead as she rolls her shoulder.

    "Don't suppose I can convince you to take on a more friendly serpent. Have you considered the fine qualities of a Hognose snake?" she asks, and flicks out her staff before back-rolling over the back end of the fire escape's rail and swinging herself upward, trying to get to the roof where she's not in as close quarters.

    "Maybe garter snakes? Hear environmental care for the little ones is *all* the rage in Long Island!"

Oliver Queen has posed:
<<That's me. It's my new and improved ship lifting arrow. Do you like it?>> the Emerald Archer offers up oh so helpfully over the comm as he continues to seek out targets of opportunity from below.

At least he does right up until that brief flash behind him, until that familiar voice sounds. Then he is tucking into a roll just a bare instant before Slade Wilson's blade swings through the same spot he was just an instant before. Coming right up out of that crouch in little more then a heartbeat. He doesn't even try to nock another arrow, lashing out with one end of that composite bow to try and keep Deathstroke at bay.

It is no surprise that Slade casually bats the jab aside, but then Ollie is already sweeping around with a kick to try and take his old foe's footing out from beneath him.

Which also proves difficult to do as Deathstroke casually leaps over the effort, continuing to slowly stalk him about the rooftop.

"You really want to play tin soldier for the money brigade? A little low, even for you Wilson," the Green Arrow says, getting back to his feet in one smooth motion.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
< "No!" > comes Silverdane's sharp response to Ollie's query. Hold breath, hold breath-- she exhales with a heavy rush as mystic wind stirs, swirls, a quick whirlwind to steal away that nightmare in gas form; the next drink of air is tenuous, teasing-- her exhale comes again with a shuddering burst, a rumble deep in her throat.

Rising to her feet, the werewolf takes a quick glance up and down the quay; she glances towards the ship, ears quivering with the sounds of gunfire, the barrage of burst and--

She bares fangs. Direction, where to go-- torn for choice. Hesitant....

....deceptive.

Drawing in the air, drinking it in with hard breaths. Recovering from sudden exhertion, to the casual eye. But to hearing, to hunter's nose...

She turns, sudden and swift and savagely certain. Racing around the end of Mr. Freeze's ice wall, curving around for a second try. Rematch! Charging--

--charging the unseen being alongside Freeze, for while invisible to *sight* means nothing to *scent*!

Claws rake the concrete, drop to all fours, surge forth with a howl, a leap--

LUNGE.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
<<I was keeping it thematic.>> Kyle retorts about icebergs. Then there's a pause as Arrow chimes in. <<Lauch a few more of those! I need to let go of the ship to focus on a bad fish.>> Kyle will give Ollie a few moments. Sadly, the lantern doesn't see that Arrow may be distracted by a hired gun.

Turning to the guards, he pauses looks to his ring. "Tell me the word 'Run!' in whatever language they're speaking!" The ring will chime in with the appropriate phrase with a bit of bass in his voice, much like a predatory would warn prey before something very bad happens.

The dome around him shrinks, Kyle floats up. Then he focuses a blast into the water. A simple blast that's small, precise, but t doesn't go away. It's meant to lull someone into a false sense of security. Like someone seeing a shot coming and moving out of the way before the trigger is pulled. That's what Kyle wants.

No need to be slow with the constructs. The end of the beam starts to quickly turn into a massive and simple anchor that Kyle heaves back toward the ship. Something big, sprawling. Kyle's trying to catch Manta on the curve of the anchor. Kind of like when someone doesn't expect a ricocheted shot to hit them. They just focus on the first part that "missed." Hit, or not, Kyle will dive into the water with the green force field around him. The hero just looks for red eyes.

Barry Allen has posed:
It would indeed seem that this new coalition of criminals have played their trump cards.

And in fairness, they're pretty darn good ones.

That huge cargo ship continunes to rise straight up into the air and out of the water, somehow seeming to stay intact that simple physics suggests that it should simply crumble and snap in half. Regardless, it doesn't, wrapped up in waves of electromagnetic energy that begin to float the ship right back out to sea. Certainly none of those left on board the deck are in any position to protest, given that they've been shot, rendered unconscious or are simply a gibbering mess from the fear toxin at this point.

The whart itself is not in much better shape though Balm's helpful magicks deal with the clouds of fear toxin rather expeditiously.

Hopefully no one's out for a midnight boat ride.

Of course, it has left her with another problem of a more immediate and violent sort and even as she ascends that narrow fire escape, the slithering Copperhead keeps up with her with ease, ignoring the staircase where needed and simply scrambling up the outside rails, occasionally lunging in at her, that fanged mouth just narrowly missing from latching on, each swipe of that powerful tail making the whole metal structure shake and lurch alarmingly as the fastening that hold it in place start to give way.

While there is no verbal reply to her suggestions, it seems safe to assume that's a hard no.

Under other circumstances, Mr. Freeze might be in more of a position to defend the invisible woman that lurks nearby. But as he attempts to blanket Grifter in that freezing ray, he very nearly misses Cole's shot that severs the heavy cabling of the nearby crane. For a moment that heavy cargo container above sways precariously and then the cable snaps entirely, sending it plummeting towards the crates -- and men -- on the wharf below. This time there is no quick, efficient retreat and Freeze bodily hurls himself aside, grunting as he rolls across the concrete wharf towards safety.

The invisible woman at his side no doubt does the same -- though it has much more to do with the werewolf that suddenly launches at her despite the veil of invisibility that hangs over her. There is a cry and as Silverdane's claws rake over her that spell falters, revealing Tala the Sorcereess with her long purple hair and plunging neckline of a dress, now marked by a trio of tears as well along her torso. "Protect me, you fool!" she screams at Victor Fries as she begins waving hands in front of her at the werewolf, magicial energies seeking to force her back into her other form.

At least if she can complete the spell in time.

As it turns out Ollie was definitely lying. Or at least being sarcastic. Either way, he is definitely not responsible for the ship lifting up. No, that would be the armored figure in blue that suddenly appears as Tala's invisibility spell fails, hovering in mid-air about fifteen feet above the wharf.

And absolutely radiating power. Dr. Polaris. Waves of electromagnetic energy radiate from him and suddenly their communication system getrs pretty unreliable.

Up on the rooftop, Deathstroke continues to spar with Green Arrow, occasionally flicking the point of that sword towards him though he doesn't truly seem to be trying for the kill now. Maybe he's not getting paid for that. "The rules have changed," Slade says, raising his voice. "You had better learn to change with them. No more picking us off one by one. I've got a new squad now."

Barry Allen has posed:
For Barry's part, he continues to focus on the evacuation of anyone in danger -- particularly as that cargo container comes crashing down. That red and gold blur seems to be everywhere, moving downed thugs aside, even jerking Mr. Freeze and Tala a little further out of harms way.

It is a good gambit and the battle in the water adds one more dimension to the field of conflict. But Black Manta is a savvy foe and shockingly quick in the water. As that glowing green anchor launches up from beneath him, the diver nimbly hurls himself aside at the last moment. Then those eyes go dark as he vanishes into the gloom of Gotham Harbor.

At least until that green light begins to swell and illuminate the nearby depths. Just an instant before those bright red beams lash out towards Ion once more.

Cole Cash has posed:
'Lauch a few more of those! I need to let go of the ship to focus on a bad fish.'

With Kyle making the request of Green Arrow, Cole draws in his breath. It's only a few jumps to get from where he is to get to Ollie and Slade.

<< Wanna switch dance partners, Green Arrow? Sounds like big Bertha needs more lifts. >>

Which means that Cole is going to do his best to distract Slade so that Ollie can concentrate on firing. Abanonding the sniper rifle, he starts to run across the rooftops, reaching to draw a Kheran blade from it's sheath. "Not the first time you abandoned a Team, you self-serving ass!" he calls out.

His other hand draws a pistol, firing several shots between Ollie and Slade - in order to provide the distraction needed.

"Mind if I cut in?!" he asks, the sword swinging aside to deflect Slade's blade.

And he knows what to prepare for. And he has had the training to back it up. "Bringing a bow to a sword fight. Pft."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <<Engaging Copperhead. My domino's set up to alert if there's another release of the fear toxin, but you might wanna keep clear of the killbox, Silverdane.>> Balm's reply comes out as she swings herself up to the roof, and manages to narrowly avoid a strike to her left shoulder. She feels it twitch in response, a mix of fear and adreniline running through her veins as she pops back up.

    "No? Well how about the knowledge that roast viper tastes like chicken?"

    And the night lights up as she casts again, this time everyone's favorite bat-guano flavored D&D spell -- FIREBALL.

    <<Fire in the roof is me!>> she warns, trying to put Copperhead on the defensive. before coming in low for a leg-sweep!

Oliver Queen has posed:
<<I can't actually *crackle* lift the ship, it was *snap* a... nevermind,>> Green Arrow offers up, the electro-magnetic interference radiating off of Dr. Polaris starting to cause problems with the comms.

There isn't a lot he can do about the cargo ship -- aside from raining down explosive arrows on it and that doesn't seem to be entirely desirable -- but he can try to do something about the man floating in mid-air.

"Works for me. It was a boring conversation anyway," he calls out to Grifter, skipping the comm as it all but explodes in a flurry of static making him grimace and rip the headset from his ear.

Choosing to trust in the other man's ability to be distracting, he roots around in his quiver for a moment for something simple. And then pulls out a decidedly unfancy looking arrow. A simple carved wooden tip. Not the sort of thing normally useful. But against someone that can pick up a ship? A better choice the hurling more ammo that he can simply magnatize.

So stepping aside of the fight going on beside him, the Emerald Archer draws and unleashes another arrow, this one towards the floating man in blue armor.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane's commbead gives out with a sudden electronic squawk of protest, a flick of fuzzy ear the only response to the protesting signal. For now, much bigger fish to fry-- the window of opportunity is brief, and Balm's warning is in bits and pieces of jarbled jargon. Only two words come solidly through-- "--keep clear--" --and the wolfwoman takes the warning to heart as all defense is set aside. She charges Tala, lunges, the familiar ache of bone and flesh and unravelling suddenly stabbing pain. Ribs crackle and burst and snap; bone shatters, jaw breaking as sharp fangs writhe and rip themselves free from her head. Clawtips crumble and shear away.... But not to claw she reaches, but to embrace, to grab, to seize. To carry forward with wounded legs and raw momentum, arcing towards the edge.

"...can you swim?" comes the hungry growl, eyes bright as every nerve burns, flesh shivering and fighting Tala's spell, all consumed in searing pain.

Catch, carry, drive-- the ocean is a cooling balm across ragged nerves as the two vanish into foaming waves.

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Kyle is in the water. Right now, he has to go on defensive. The energy shield makes him stand out. So, he has to wait for either Manta to get in close or those beams to take aim. Beams slam against the shield. Kyle grunts and focuses trying to fire out energy from beneath. Kyle braces the shield with the right hand and then tries to shoot under with a blast of energy with the left. A bit of deception. It's not much, he hopes to wing Black Manta. The guy is insanely good in the water.

Barry Allen has posed:
That ship continues to float out away from the wharf, out over the harbor, that huge, dark shadow cast over the dark waters below as Dr. Polaris continues to guide it towards whatever the inevitable end goal is.

At least he does until that arrow flies towards him.

It is understandable that Neal Emerson might not feel threatened by one measly arrow. He can lift cargo ships with a wave of his hand, can distort the entire magnetic field of the planet, or blackout the city below with an electro-magnetic pulse. What harm can an arrow do? So he waves at it dirisively -- and cries out as the entirely wooden shaft finds a kink in that armor that is wrapped around him, sinking into his side. His attention broken, that huge cargo ship hovers for just a moment.

And then it starts to drop back towards the ocean below. That'll be some serious water displacement.

Copperhead is shockingly fast and each lunging bite or lashing tail slap just narrowly avoids balm by the slightest of margins, seeming to come a little closer each time as he stalks her across the rooftop. At least until she launches that fireball.

Then the tables turn right fast and it is all that the slippery snake can do to scamper away from the blast, even then getting singed. As she follows up he is pressed closer and closer to the buildings edge.

The battle on the other rooftop is every bit as intense -- even if there is not quite as much fire involved. Those shots from Grifter do indeed drive Deathstroke back far enough to let Oliver work and as he follows up and throws himself into the fight, Slade is already sliding that sword back into it's holster, pulling forth a small shaft that abruptly extends into a much longer staff. Still not the best weapon for a gun fight, right?

"The correct tool for the job. you should remember that Cash," Slade sneers right back, levelling one end of that staff towards the masked man, the tip flaring brightly for just a second before an energy burst flashes out towards him. Almost immediately that staff whirls in Slade's capable hands, directed downwards as he launches himself into the air, flipping there as he begins to descend towards the wharf below. "Tell Waller hi for me. Let her know that I might drop by sometime, settle some old scores."

Silverdane's gambit is successful and even as she lunges acros the wharf, even as Tala desperately tries to complete that spell the much heavier werewolf plows into the sorceress as she begins to shift back to human form. It's enough though and both of them pitch over the side towards the dark waters below. "You're going to make an absolute mess of my hair!" the purple haired woman screeches at her.

You know, because priorities.

Beneath the waves Ion and Black Manta engage in their own little cat and mouse game. The black of his armor makes Manta all but impossible to pick up and he uses that familiarity with the ocean to his advantage, moving with shocking swiftness beneath the waves, never staying in one place aafter firing those lancing red energy blasts. But powerful as they might be, they can't pierce Kyle's shield and after revealing himself once more, the Green Lantern's counter strikes home. Just barely, but enough to tear open that armored diving suit, a flurry of bubbles starting to rise up towards the surface, through those dark waters.

Racing amongst the crates, Barry has removed nearly all of the gunmen, leaving them trussed up with the Port Authority guards. Racing back to the scene, that red and gold streak grabs hold of Mr. Freeze and slams him against the ground a few times. "Things didn't go quite as you planned, huh?"

Which is when Tala manages to free herself from Belinda, rising above the surface of the water, sputtering and already conjuring. All at once the criminals in question begin to fade from view, going translucent, then transparent and then vanishing entirely.

Freakin' magic. No offense Balm.

Cole Cash has posed:
"We're in the field, dumbass." Grifter snaps as he watches Deathstroke switch from blade to staff. Just as he was going to rush in, something tells him not to as he arches backwards just as the blast from Deathstroke's staff strikes him in the shoulder. "Dammit!"

His pistol whips around, firing wild in an upward arc of blasts, totally inefficent when it comes to dealing with the other Team 7 member.

"I'll make sure to have the cheap stuff on hand." Grifter growls as Deathstroke starts to retreat. But professional courtesy dictates not firing at the retreating figure and he ends up holstering his pistol, sword returning to his sheath.

"So much for tennis this week." he grunts as he moves away from Oliver with a two fingered salute against his temple as he retreats back to his sniper position to take up the rifle.

There's a Bat down there, he's not going to leave her any evidence.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Balm doesn't take offense. She was also a bit busy trying to estimate how many D6 damage that would have caused as she slings herself forward and jumps into the air, turning and delivering a kick to Copperhead to send him over the side of the building -- only to watch as he vanishes into thin air.

    And her without her batarangs!

    She skids on the side of the building, taking a deep breath as she looks over the dockyard.

    <<Balm here -- Copperhead's retreated and I'm all outta spellslots with burnination in it -- how's triage going in the kill-->> she begins, and makes a face as the ship begins to drop back down.

    <<That can't be good.>>

Oliver Queen has posed:
Watching as all the targets -- at least of any prominence -- suddenly start to vanish from the field, Oliver swiftly draws out another arrow and lets it loose, firing it towards Dr. Polaris once more. But this time the arrow arcs through the air, flying right through the spot where the armored hovering figure had been only seconds below.

Not invisible then. Just gone.

He whirls to see if by chance Deathstroke got left behind and again, is only disappointed by the clear lack of targets around.

Still, he gives a faint nod towards Cole for the assist and mutters 'What an asshole," under his breath.

Presumably that hostility is directed towards Slade and not Grifter.

"That's it. I'm going to study magic. Where's Dr. Fate hanging around these days? Or maybe Zee. Yeah, I bet she'd be a way better teacher."

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Flesh quivers, bone crackles, and pain like hasn't been felt in ages-- Silverdane shivers and melts as the waters take on a life of their own, violent and savage. De-clawed fingers finish melting into more fragile, slender, simply human digits; bones reknit as she struggles in the waves. Not exactly swimming, but buoyant enough now-- reaching for a lifering floating nearby, grabbing the old, faded, and well-worn preserver for dear life!

< "Sil--" > she coughs, exhaling a GACK of grimy water. < "Sii.....Silverdane," > she repeats, sounding far less like a wolf creature and a lot mor elike a young lady tring to hit the lowest note possible. < "Got their witch, but... vanished. Really, vanished. Sorry." >

Kyle Rayner has posed:
Kyle sees the red move away and some bubbles after the green energy connects to something. Flying out of the water Lantern looks about and sees the boat float away. Focusing, Kyle creates a large construct to nab the boat. It's one of those plastic claw arms that have the two grips. "UNSTOPPABLE!" he yells remembering the shirt of the T-Rex with two of them. The triumph on the creature's face as it yells the same word. Sadly, the ring may not be enough given Doctor Polaris's experience. He has don a lot with that ring, the fight may be out of him a little bit.

Barry Allen has posed:
So it looks like the bad guys are going to get away. At least the ones in costume at any rate. There hasn't really been a chance to check on the ones that Barry left back with the Port Authority night watch.

But they did not manage to seize that cargo of elicit drugs and weapons however, though the falling ship does threaten to cause it's own fair share of problems.

At least until that green light construct reaches out and snags it in midair, slowing it's descent noticably. Can Ion hold it aloft for long, with the ease that Dr. Polaris seemed to manage. Who's to say. Without the electro-magnetic field exerting force evenly across the entire hull of the ship it might crumple first. But to just quickly lower it back to the water? To perhaps guide it back to it's birth and keep that hole pried into the bottom of the vessel from sinking it?

It seems likely that the Oan Power Ring is up for that.

<< Well, I guess we can chalk that up as a partial success. And we learned who a few more of the players are, >> Barry adds over the comm, racing to the side of the wharf, glancing down towards the floundering woman in the cool Atlantic waters before tossing a line down to help out. << Don't knock it. You took out their sorceress. They might have gotten away with the entire ship if not for you. And at least we have the KGBeast to put away. That's not nothing. >>

But the threat of the Injustice League, or Legion of Doom, or the Evil League of Evil -- whatever they want to call themselves -- remains.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <<If you see Zee, tell her Balm says 'hi' and 'still sorry about your front lawn.'>> Balm replies good naturedly. <<Silverdane, you did well! This was a tough one with a lot of unpredictable elements to it. Hold tight.>> Balm lifts her hands, and the wolf is lifted with one of her sheiilds, with the lazily spinning eight-pointed star and the fancy hieroglyphics.

    <<If you want me to dry you up before you go I can. It's raining. And cold. But you'll be dry for at least seven seconds.>>

Barry Allen has posed:
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MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE LEGION OF DOOM...