18719/Injustice For All: A Great Disturbance In The Force

Injustice For All: A Great Disturbance In The Force
Date of Scene:	11 August 2024
Location:	Gotham Museum of History -- Gotham City
Synopsis:	Felix Faust and the Injustice League seek to try and greatly amplify their mystical might at the Gotham Museum of History by returning to an old trick. The Justice League and their allies come out of the woodwork to stop them.
Cast of Characters:	Hal Jordan, Monet St. Croix, Billy Batson, Jon Kent, Diana Prince, Belinda Gutierrez, M'gann M'orzz, Jay Nakamura, Rien D'Arqueness
Tinyplot:	Injustice For All

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Hal Jordan has posed:
The Gotham Museum of History.

Gotham has no shortage of interesting museums and heritage sites that one can visit. There is an array of them that is every bit as impressive as any in the world, despite the city's occasional troublesome reputation. Countless artifacts and some of the world's foremost experts in a whole, varied field of study populate these many and varied facilities and tourists -- both local and from a diverse array of destinations -- flock to them throughout the year.

The Museum of History in particular can be popular, particularly with the younger crowd given the preponderance of exhibits that might appeal to the age group. From Revolutionary weapons all the way to dinosaur bones dating back tens of millions of years, the mseum has it all.

It has also, frequently inadvertantly, hostaged a few prizes of a different sort. Artifacts not just of the historical sort, but also of the magical sort.

Quite some time ago the rogue sorcerer and frequent nemesis Felix Faust lay seige to this same vary museum, conjuring up an assortment of imps and ghouls to occupy the League and it's allies while he looked to get his hands on three of those same artifacts in particular; the Green Bell of Uthool, the Red Jar of Calthos and the Silver Wheel of Nyorlath. Together, and with his own sorcerous might, those three ancient relics allowed Faust to conjure up thre deadly forces, known collectively as the Demons Three; Abnegazar, Rath and Ghast, three ancient and powerful forces long since banished from this reality.

Several minutes ago, Faust arrived here, at this same spot, several years later to try much the same thing again. But this time, he comes with many more allies at his disposal.

It is an otherwise sunny afternoon, a pleasant one really, with only a few white, fluffy clouds in the sky, lazily wafting their way through the skies overhead. Fortunately school has no yet resumed for the unfortunate children of Gotham, though the popularity of the Museum, along with it being a pleasant Sunday afternoon insures that there are plenty of families on hand, even without hte busload of school-children who might otherwise be present. Plenty of those fmailies are gathered out front of the classic-style building, built in the Greco-Roman tradition with it's marble columns, many hanging around the large fountain to sends up periodic sprays of water in front of that building.

But the real action is deep inside. Not in the halls that go over the slow march of American history, nor the great corridor with it's collection of assembled dinosaur bones. But instead in one of the side halls that in turn is devoted to that same classical era and the artifacts from it. Where several minutes ago a portal opened up allowing a host of costumed figures to spill forth. Forenist amongst them was Felix Faust perhaps, grinning that sadistic smile in his blue turban as he turned that visage towards the nearest of the security cameras, theatrically waving a little wand in the direction of the security system before it shorted out, the last image collecting other familiar figures -- at least to the Justice League. Morgan LeFay in her golden face mask that otherwsie conceals her features and the purple haired sorceress Tala following closely in his wake.

Images captured and relayed to the Watchtower, to the Hall of Justice and out to other allies groups. Though even before the artifical intelligence that monitors all those little details can send out that alert a shadowy dome of malignant miasma seems to spring up around the museum, encompassing it completely in it's slimey, oily aura.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She's been connected to the alert system of the Watchtower, and Monet's close enough that she's not in need of a teleport there once the signal comes in. Instead, she's just doing a quick high loop through the air and through the city, heading towards the museum at high speed to arrive outside. Which would put herin a position to get a quick sweep through the area. Not going in with all of the magical marauders present unless she could find a quick angle to attack at. <<In position>> She would state along the comms. Would any of the locals be arriving in time here to aid? Any members of the JLD? They were probably going to be limited to anyone that could get here within a few minutes. Much less if the villains could put some sort of ward around the area to prevent entry.

Monet would next muse over as to why the museum still had a display of so many artifacts, with the sheer number of times it had been attacked, wtih the high crime rate, and the very poor reputation of the local police when it came time to retrieving purloined artifacts. Probably the insurance payouts and tax writeoffs. Hmm. Something perhpas then to see if it was a way to fundraise for the school then.

However, as she does arrive she is too late to get in thanks to her hesitation for the others to arrive to coordinate, and as the dome forms it's too late for her to try and get in. She goes to speak along the comms <<Does anyone know how we can breach that?>> Would the comms or her telepathy even reach inside?

Billy Batson has posed:
Billy Batson was flying a patrol as Shazam, with a rider! Belinda was being treated to a ride! Shazam was beaming and then his mood darkens. "Something bad is coming in... Gotham. Are you up for some action?" He turns away from New York and strikes for New Jersey, Throwing his cape as a shield over Belinda.

Something wicked this way comes as the saying goes. Something magical.

Jon Kent has posed:
Today Jon is at the museum already, by chance. He is on a date with Jay Nakamura, a fellow student at Metropolis University. They already stopped for lunch and are getting ready for a tour of the museum. Luckily, they have not yet entered the building but are walking side-by-side down the sidewalk when the dome erects. He stops cold. "Dude, um, is that...is that part of some new exhibit?" Jon asks Jay. He leans in close and whispers to Jay, "I'll be right back."

And at speeds that almost rival that of speedsters, Jon Kent simply vanishes from view. Moments later, Superboy flies in on scene and descends back down to the sidewalk. He peers at Jay and nods. "Citizen, is everything okay here?" He gestures toward the dome. The difference between Jon Kent and Superboy is...well, it's an entire vibe, an entire galaxy of difference. The glasses almost seem unnecessary, really.

Diana Prince has posed:
For Wonder Woman, she was training young heroes at the Hall of Justice today. The Justice League had programs for young super heroes to join, which would have them train with JLA members, teaching them all about how to be a responsible hoer, minimizing the dangers to innocents, while teaching how to deal with a wide array of nare-do-wells along the way. Today, had been a class in close quarters combat, but it was soon to be interrupted when the information about a major situation unfolding.

The damnable InJustice League... a proverbial thorn in the side of not just the JLA, but the world as a whole.

Diana separated herself from her ongoing class, leaving it to her Amazonian Captain to continue the class in her absence. She proceeded to the Invisible Jet, boarding it, along with two Amazon guards flanking her in her wake. The trio vanished inside the Jet's open boarding ramp, and with a squeal of alien technology, they were on their way.

<"Wonder Woman, enroute to the Museum. It should not be long. Gather with caution. The InJustice League has been increasing in numbers, and host a wide variety of powered people. They are a severe threat to anyone who responds, and everyone within that museum. Prepare for a great need to evacuate guests, and to cover one another."> Diana's voice came across the JLA comms, and the comm network that connected super hero teams responding to the situation.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
"Si," is Belinda's answer, the primal euphoria of flight-- Flight! --barely matched by the eagerness of the coming conflict, the tiny howl of joy kept firmly in check.

Out of her ballwick?> All but certain. But the days and weeks and years she has spent occasionally 'hunting' in Gotham's dark alleys gives her confidence.

And the promise to get Batman a steak, someday. Because-- territory. Reasons.

The shift in shape, the ripple of the change-- it adds mass to Shazam's carrying load, but the need to change grip is the only, brief inconvenience that comes.

Silverdane!

She comes, carried with Shazam's grip on her arms, the wild wind whipping through fur and hair and tail.

"Canf punch trooo?" comes the wind-swept, jaw-discloated question. "Punf trouh? G't insi'd?"

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
Miss Martian is quick to respond to the Watchtower's call, flying out to Gotham in less time than it takes to pump gas!

As she arrives on the scene, the sight of the dome has her lips pursing together, the Martian descending through the air, and then further, sinking into the ground as easily as one might slip into a bath. She does a little recon first, testing to see the dome's limits of its shape first, then nudging at it.

It's painful, and it feels... wrong. Heavy, dark. Before she can break the surface of it, Miss Martian pulls back and instead opens her mind to connect all the JLA people she can sense.

<<It's more than a dome. It's a sphere. Not unbreachable, but the side effects may outweigh the possibility of other means to breach it. Pushing through, it's.. painful. And... wrong. Dark.>>

Jay Nakamura has posed:
    Jay Nakamura had talked/pressured/bribed Jon to come out to Gotham (of all places) for a date. To the history museum! Maybe not the most romantic spot in not-the-most-romantic town, but it's the only place for Jay to get a look at a touring exhibit of artifacts from his homeland-- supplied by its current government, of whom he has so many suspicions. "How much you want to bet Lexcorp is 'sponsoring' this thing somewhere way under the table," he muttered to Jon while they were having lunch. "If we can get in there, maybe we can wave some press credentials, get behind the scenes, nose around in the crates, find some shipping manifests..."
    But as they're approaching things get Extra Weird and Jay blinks up at the bizarre sight. "Uh, I don't know, I don't think the museum usually does special effects."
    He nods to Jon, unsurprised at the farmboy's hasty vanishing act. When Superboy returns, Jay waves to him. "Umm, not sure, Superboy! I just got here, but that doesn't look like normal 'history museum' promotional event stuff."
    Like any good reporter would, he whips out his phone and starts live-streaming the events. "Heeey, everybody, Jay Nakamura here, live at the Gotham History Museum where the building appears to be covered in some kind of smog. Different than the usual Gotham ground smog, I mean. That stuff you can usually almost see through. This looks more like a pudding that's mad at you for forgetting about it in the back of your fridge some time in the nineteen-nineties."

Hal Jordan has posed:
The citizens of Gotham City are used to some pretty strange things. Crazed, homicidal clows and men in armor running around turning people into frozen popsicles. it's not for the faint of heart to be sure.

But like so many people, no matter where they call home, there seems to be an inherent tendacy to stop and gawk when something unusual or tragic happens, instead of doing the seemingly sane thing and vacate the area immediately.

Presumably those within that shadowy dome of inky darkness that springs up around the mseum don't really have much of a say in the matter of course. Or at the very least no one shows any signs of pushing their way out. And while the building itself is obscured by that roiling mass of inky darkness, it is not blocked entirely. It is still very much possible to see those sets of double doors leading into the museum proper between columns, to see windows -- mostly on the upper story -- though it anyone appears behind those glass panes, that detail can't be made out quite as well.

Certainly a number of families, especially those with small children, are quick enough to hustle away, deserting that otherwise sunlit square in front of the building that somehow seems a little darker, a little more foreboding with that mass of shadow looming so close. But other's linger, cellphones out, capturing pictures and video of the scene despite that ominous bubble of darkness that seems to spring up out of nowhere.

Though at least once it expands to emcompass the whole of the building it stops there, no further signs of any growth, any spread.

In the distance the sound of police sirens can be heard, crawling their way through weekend traffic, through all those people looking to escape the city for a few hours. What they will do -- besides securing the scene -- against a mystical dome of darkness is something of an open question, but at least they are on the way.

Though not quite as quickly as a number of other heroes fortunately.

The Justice League and their allies are well aware of Felix Faust's return, rescued by the Injustice League when they sought to rescue a number of their own members that were inacvertantly banished to the same distant asteroid where the League imprisoned Faust after his last schemes. So it was always just a matter of time before he made his presence felt once more.

One of those heroes on their way? Hal Jordan, Green Lantern for Sector 2814, descending in a streak of emerald light from where he has been playing security guard during his term onboard the Watchtower. Dropping into atmosphere, he slows, going only several times the speed of sound and continues to slow as he enters Gotham's airspace proper. << The Museum of History? Again? Please tell me that they weren't really dumb enough to bring that stupid Bell, Jar and Wheel back here after last time. Faust needs to learn some new tricks, >> he says over the comms as he nears.

Miss Martian's report seems to trigger something for him though and as he drops out of the sky, he lifts that ring hand, directing it down towards the dome. "That doesn't sound like the sort of thing that you want to wade through. Let's see how shadow likes dealing with a little darkness," he suggests.

Springing up from his ring, a full sized emerald construct of a light house manifests in the square right in front of the museum's entrance, though instead of a rotating light warning ships away from dangerous waters ahead, this one focuses all that illumination in one point -- right in front of the building where those doors would be.

That emerald glow builds, intensifies until Hal's grow furrows with the effort. Only then does it finally begin to push back some of that shadow, creating a narrow passage, barely five feet in height and just barely wide enough for an adult human to pass.

And from the expression on Hal's face, it's like trying to hold back and entire ocean's worth of water from plunging back into that void. "Ugh, who knew shadow could be so heavy..."

Monet St. Croix has posed:
And as Hal Jordan makes a hole to fly in, there goes Monet as fast as she can, moving to fly in quickly! Once through it at high speed, even as it's hard for Hal to keep open she goes to try and quickly pinpoint over where the errant sorcerers sadistic were! They were well beyond her ken - if only Illyana were here they might have some help. But she would figure it out along with the rest.

But these were beings of ancient power and cunning earned over centuries, if not millenia, and they could counter most casual things with power. Morgan in particular had a reputation of near limitless scheming.. But also of feuding. Monet goes to recall some of these things quickly from memory.

Then calling upon mental encounters with Meggan, the ever so cheerful lady of the glades and Otherworld.. Now Monet goes to call up old memories.

She goes to spin them as best she can to a telepathic broadcast, intent on aiming it for the lady wtih the golden mask, and closes her eyes to work on it.. And then two taunting figures would appear that Morgan would know full well. Hopefully baitin gto her pride and arrogance would bait her hard. With age came vanity..

And there she goes! Two hated figures of the Outer Realms. Sat-Yr-Nin and Roma, Lady of the Realm.

Sat-Yr-Nin would smile and blow a kiss, "Why hello there! Just in time. Thank you dolly for making it all easier for me. It's always good to get to see you played like a fiddle." Monet matcing if she could that sadistic, gleeful tone from Meggan's memories.

Then 'opposite' the wicked semi-goddess is Roma, daughter of Merlin and his match in cunning. Just sitting and floating. Watching. Gazing in all knowing judgement.

Billy Batson has posed:
Shazam flies into the opening to give Green Lantern a hand. He crouches in the entrance, sets his hands against its roof and lifts. Atlas held the heavens aloft once he sets his strength against the swirling vileness he throws lightning at the darkness seeking to enlarge the opening.

His tunic begins to blacken from contamination. His face reddens as his light builds, trying to negate the dome. It's heavy, like having your hopes crushed or having your love thrown back in your face or lost. Irie comes to mind. And he doubles down, standing to the side to let people through.

Jon Kent has posed:
Even now, Jon /still/ has no idea that Jay has super powers. So he remains close to surreptitiously keep an eye on him while still helping with his own unique skills. Superboy behind to quickly zip back and forth to get civilians out of the way. While no Flash and not part of the Speed Force, our boy can move /faaaaaaaaaaast/. Each person he grabs and zips to safety spends the new few seconds disoriented as their body re-learned to pump blood to their brain. Within less than a minute there are no more innocents near the opening that Green Lantern has made and Superboy comes to a half to scan the area to see how he can help next.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Released from Shazam's hold, Silverdane pluges in a deft, swift arc, diving through the shimmering breach made by Green Lantern's efforts, slamming down to her feet with a grimace. High-speed landings-- she can take them, but that doesn't make them more pleasant.

"...neef to work on da't...." she mutters, reaching to her jaw, pressing it back into plkace with a soft, sickening crunch. Resetting the dislocated joint, she spares a glance back to Shazam, wincing aas his costume begins to darken, scorch... But holding up the roof, the museum heavens, sparking a lupine grin before she slinks down, before she moves.

Careful, deceptively quiet, she briefly adjust sthe domino mask on her features before she plunges into the museum. Sniff, scent, breath-- and absently snatch a museum guidebook for directions.

Priorities.

Diana Prince has posed:
The speed of the Invisible Jet allowed the vehicle to get literally anywhere in the world in an hour, or less. In the case of Metropolis to Gotham City? It was much less than an hour.

With its cloak on, the alien vehicle was completely out of sight from the naked eye, which generally gave Diana a heck of an advantage when it came to simply appearing wherever she needed to be, right out of thin air.

Case in point, where there was nothing one second, the next, Amazon Princess!

She fell from the sky, one leg bent at the knee, the other extended out beneath her. She fell with the power of gravity pulling her down toward the dark barrier that encased the museum, right down until she landed upon it.

A super hero landing? On top of a dark bubble encasing the museum? She certainly was bold! If Bold was the right word...

One leather-wrapped hand shot to her right hip, detaching her golden lasso from the well oiled leather harness that clings about her form. She draws the sparkling golden twine out, lashing it forward in a spiiraling cone of motion, as the entire length shot to life with golden light, the glow of the Gods!

Spinning the lasso around her body in rapid motions, going faster and faster, until she was encased inside a glowing drill-shaped cone that would be directly focused down beneath her, at the dark magic wall that seemed vulnerable to great light!

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
Miss Martian nods to Hal as he forces that opening into the dome, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze before she turns and darts through the opening, using her telekinesis to help force the opening wider just long enough to slip through clean before starting directly for the museum.

While others are going for the magic users, M'gann has something else in mind. Faust is seeking items. If M'gann can get to them before Faust... problem semi-solved. She's no Barry either, but can give Superman a run for his money. Especially since M'gann has an advantage.

Going intangible and invisible, she starts to scan the museum with that x-ray vision, moving quickly from room to room, seeking any of the three items: Bell, Jar, or Wheel. Anything to keep him from getting his hands on them. Demons just aren't a fun time, especially for Martians.

Jay Nakamura has posed:
    Jay Nakamura looks up when even more heroes emerge to address the sudden crisis. He continues narrating for his stream: "As you can sort-of-almost-see, Superboy is on the scene already, getting things under control. Maybe I can talk him into an interview when this is over? Oh, wow, Green Lantern, and Wonder Woman, too? This must be something more dangerous than it looks. Let's see if we can get a closer look!"
    Like one of those idiots who insists on reporting on a hurricane from inside the hurricane, Jay starts prowling his way forward, doing his best to stay out of the way of the heroes while he documents the event for his (maybe) dozens of followers.
    The air is a bit thicker than blackest night, but with Green Lantern's light pointing the way Jay makes his way up to the museum doors. To say he's 'sneaking' would be putting it quite strongly; with hair and clothing about as bright as a nuclear reactor, the best he can do is stay low and stick to a shadow.
    But at last he reaches the doors, and thinks better of it. "Maybe going in the front isn't the best option... lemme find another way in--"
    In his journey along the side of the building he wobbles his phone strategically so nobody viewing the stream will notice him 'making his own door' along an unobserved, blank expanse of wall. "Looks like somebody left this emergency door open," he narrates in a whisper as he strolls directly through the solid stone.
    Inside he looks first for cover, and then a position from which to record the ongoing events.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Once through that gap in the shadowy dome things don't look quite so out of place, though that oily, somehow 'off' aura that Miss Martian mentioned from her own encounter with the dome is very muchpalpable, even to those without a lick of psychic sensitivity.

It is indeed unfortunate that their allies with some magical might are not amongst the first responders, given who they know they are up against. But sometimes one does the best with what they can.

While the weight that might be pressing down on that green tunnel through the shadowy darkness might mostly be intangible in nature, might be more a psychic weight, a mystical weight then the true crushing weight of millions upon millions of litres of actual liquid, who better to heft some of that kind of weight then the might Shazam, that passage stabilized by the world's mightiest mortal, enough so that Hal can let out a long, slow breath, the sheer strain of keeping that passage opened lessened enough that others can freely pass through, including the Green Lantern himself.

He does shoot a brief look back towards the square where a blur seems to streak about, grabbing hold of those that need it, escorting those that might otherwise be unable -- or at least slow to evacuate -- out of immediate harms way.

Of course, Hal and many of the others are already turning their attention to what lays ahead of them, in the interior of the mseum itself. Which might be why the portal that sudenly opens, a few feet above that fountain in the center of the square is noticed by only the few people not rushed to safety by Jon Kent. The first figure through isn't particularly menacing all on his own, that purple-skinned man somehow distorted, bulging from odd places. The Parasite. And the man that follows is strangely incongruous, non-threatening even. Seemingly dressed casually, the man's features are somehow almost... plastic. Not quite real, from the dirty blonde wig he seems to wear to that too wide smile. But his features too are familiar to those residing in Metropolis. John Corben. Metallo. "Well, well," the man says, his facial features almost seeming to sag. "You weren't the big blue boy scout I was hoping for. But I guess you'll do."

Likewise, in the confusion, Jay won't find it hard to sneak past the outer layer of shadowy darkness, to slip aside the main pack and find a side window or service door that has been proped open, giving access to the museum beyond. Outside the truly public areas there are any number of long hallways or storage areas that present a place to creep about. Though the intrepid reporter might be inclined to seek cover when a long and particularly twisty shadow suddenly detatches itself from a larger patch of that darkness and begins to sneak through the hall towards the front entrance. The Shadow Thief.

Both Monet and Miss Martian are likely to sense the hundreds of those present in the museum itself, spread across the mutliple floors and exhibits. But some of the minds are more powerful and familiar from past encounters. And while Monet targets one in particular, M'gann will sense a whole host of the Injustice League on site, even beyond Faust and the other mystics. Still, it doesn't take her long to hone in on Faust, to practically see him sitting in the middle of the floor of the Ancient History wing alongwith Morgan LeFay and Tala, a circle of glowing power surrounding them as they seem to be conducting a ritual. A ritual that she is in far better position then most to stop.

Monet, however, has at least found a way to disrupt it with her rather rude pyschic intrusion, the attempt to anger or unsettle LeFay. And the resulting backlash comes quickly as a fist of marble explodes up out ofthe floor of the entrance hall, grasping for her, looking to capture her in it's crushing grip.

There are others in that main hall now, figures hidden from the crowds, many that cluster together nercously. The Flash's Rogues predominate, her to slow and distract anyone tryingto get past them.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Well, they're surrounded. This is going to be a rather, rather brutal battle. A brawl at close quarters with a legion of crafted creatures and high end magic users. A short range melee with little room to maneuver and an endless array of adversaries that could be thrown at them. Monet goes to try and call out to M'Gann to try to coordinate telepathically - but it's rather brutally interrupted by a psychic backlash.

First, as her illusion catches the attention of Morgan Le Faye. Quite apparently, making an illusion of someone Morgan has hated for millenia does not go well. Whether or not Morgan realized it was an illusion or thinks it's real, said attempt at an illusion vanishes rather quickly. Which then leaves Monet fully in it's place - or at least the nearest thing for the eons ancient semi-goddess to want to crush by virtue of transitive property.

The magical and psychic backlash cuts off Monet's attempts to remain in psychic contact with the rest of the group as the marble fist goes to rise up, grabs her and locks solid on her as it morphs up and out of the ground. Then it picks her up and slams her into the ground hard. Again. Again. Again. She screams in pain while trying to brace. But the magic reinforced marble does not give while she tries to struggle.

Billy Batson has posed:
Shazam flies at Corben, hoping for a quick knock out and one less perp to worry about. Also, seeing that blur and hearing the cyborg scoff, he figures to do an old friend a favor. Only, his uniform is still marred by black corrosion, there's a little color lost from his face, Jon or Miss Martian might see his blur of speed is a little less blurry and he does not yet get a second wind. It's a gamble. It's a Billy move.Make your first shot fast! It can mess the other guy up and let you make your second shot good.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
It takes moment, seconds, too long by any measure-- too long by Silverdane's measure. Stalk about, focus, sort out the array of scents, ignore the guard's sandwich, press through the lingering driftings of aftershave and cologne, perfume, cleaning chemicals, the whiff and acrid tang of male and sulfur and female... Until the scream of pain draws her attention. M!

The time for waiting is past; time now to do the best she can do...

Distract.

The towering prehistoric skeleton of an allosaur (Tyrannosaur? Ironic!) serves as the perfect platform for the great wolf woman to leap and twist and clambor aboard. The pins holding its bones together creak ominously beneath her weight, but the towering prsence it exudes is matched by the warm echoing effects of the halls, the chambers carrying sound and breath--

She sounds out, long and low, a fierce cry of malice and malignance of feral fury! Hear, look at me, see /me/--!

"Rogues!" she howls, a lusty bellow beneath gleaming, shining eyes. "Sorceress! The Wolf has come for you! Flee now..."

She grins, curving down, tensing above the long-dead saurian's ancient skull.

"Or I hunt. I /bite/!"

Jon Kent has posed:
Jon knows the deal. He sees Metallo appear and he understands what's at stake here. But the young are, well, young. And having never been victimized by the astonishingly scare element before, for Superboy it's more of a concept than an actual threat. He frowns disapprovingly at Metallo. "My father isn't here. He leaves the small stuff to me." More than capable of operating within the super-fast realms, Superboy glances over and sees Shazam coming in /fast/. Perhaps not the best poker player in the world, Jon allows a tiny smirk to twitch one side of his mouth. "And my friends." He punches Metallo in the face and then ducks down into a squatting position such that Shazam's incoming trajectory can fly right over him and into Metallo.

Diana Prince has posed:
Wonder Woman slips through, down in to a courtyard beneath. She glides down to stand upon a balcony overlooking the yard below. Her senses reach out, and her eyes scan what lies before her. She can hear the voices of the confrontation, just to the south of her current position.

<"Be ready for anything. This could be a distraction, from a greater target.">

With tremendous movement speed behind her, Diana lunges off of the balcony, rushing in a blur toward the south.

In that great hall, where the confrontation seems to be breaking out, Diana slams her way through a pair of double doors, a rush of wind rolling across her in her wake, as she plants her armored boots upon the museum floor, her sword held in her right hand, and her lasso swirled around her left fist, still glowing, creating a golden energy sphere around her hand.

The InJustice League has another of the Justice League's members to contend with now.

M'gann M'orzz has posed:
Miss Martian locates.. well, not the objects, but the seeker. Without being mystically aware, she doesn't know what it is that the sorcerers/esses are trying to do, but rightly assumes it's something that needs to be stopped. Flying in towards Faust, M'gann sheds the invisibility and intangibility to put all of her focus and will into doing mental battle with Felix Faust.

Telepathically reaching out, she starts battering at his defenses, trying to disrupt whatever ritual is being enacted. Trying to send psychic lances through his mind, not to kill or cause permanent damage, but to cause pain and disruption of concentration.

Because it does take so much of her focus, she floats down to the floor, standing in place as she attempts to enter a contest of wills with the ancient sorcerer.

Jay Nakamura has posed:
    Jay Nakamura wisely goes quiet once he's inside. Or, at least, he's holding his phone closer so he can whisper at it while he navigates the crowded interior of the museum. "Does that shadow look weird to anyone else?" he wonders to his viewers as he captures the odd visual effect of a kind of creeping blob of darkness.
    Jay keeps to the edges of the exhibit halls as he moves deeper into the museum. Any civilians he spots, he waves urgently toward the nearest emergency exit. "Down that way, to the left. Stay quiet, stay low. Don't stop running. Superboy's out front; he'll help."
    As he nears the main hall of the museum he heads up onto the mezzanine to get a better view. From up there, crouched behind a railing, he sweeps his phone's camera over the crowd.
    The various superhero groups monitoring the internet can no doubt recognize the criminals lurking there... and Jay's own resources are highlighting the Rogues directly on his phone screen. "Looks like some bad people here, too," he whispers to his audience. "Just milling around with everyone else? What's going on here..."
    In the meantime Jay sends Jon a quick text: 'baddies inside', with accompanying pictures of the Rogues identified so far. Then he remembers, duh, he doesn't have to text.
    Jay temporarily mutes his feed and whispers-- certain Jon will hear it-- "Superboy, more villains inside. Lots of civilians still, too. The baddies look like they're using the civs for cover. Be careful..."
    He obviously has no idea how dire the situation in front of the museum has gotten in the few moments since he left it.
    "Oh, shit, it's Wonder Woman," Jay blurts out to his viewers, louder than he probably intended. "Check out that landing! And those *boots*. I have to know where she got those. They don't go with anything in my closet but I can make it work. I hope they come in orange."

Hal Jordan has posed:
While the lion share of the threat might come from within the museum proper, the fact of the matter is that the Parasite and Metallo are two of the heavier hitters at the Injustice League's disposal, and leaving Jon to face them all on his own would be harsh. Not unsustainable in all likelihood, but not the sort of thing that would be very sporting, even given all the other threats they face.

And they are the good guys, right? They have each other's backs. That's part of what being in the Justice League means. So Jon isnt left alone as Shazam soars back to offer him aid, slamming into Corben and knocking him away from the younger Kent. As he does, those plastic features grow more distorted, ripping and tearing from the impact until that fake skin dangles from the metal skeletal figure beneath, that grinning rictus even more disturbing now that the truth is revealled.

Though battered, Metallo struggles back, his might not quite a match for Shazam, though the chest plate with that kryptonite heart that powers him begins to slide open. And while Billy might not be at all botered by the radiation, the laser blast that slams directly into his chest probably doesn't feel quite so pleasant.

Jon too gets his licks in on Corben before Shazam slams into him, carrying him a little further away. But it leaves the path clear for the Parasite that simply hurls himself bodily towards the half-Kryptonian, already seeming to start to swell from near proximity to that near-limitless well of power, that odd purple form seeming to grow and mutate before their very eyes.

Of course with Shazam no longer supporting the emerald arch, and with Hal on the far side, that shadowy dome slams back into place, dividing the team at least temporarily. Glancing back, Hal mutters, "Anyone else have a bad feeling? It's kinda like walking into the haunted house and having the door slam shut and lock behind you. Except the door here is shadowy goop," he comments drily before turning back towards the entrance hall and the forces arrayed there.

And that grand entrance hall is increasingly engulfed in chaos. That giant marble hand that rises out ofthe floor and slams into Monet, grasping her in that rock-like grip seems to be a signal for everything that comes after. There is certainly no shortage of things to report, that's for sure.

Individually, the Rogues might not really be a match for many of those gathered here, even with two of their heaviest hitters outside. But collectively, they're definitely a pain.

"Oh look, it's the bad dog," Leonard Snart snears to his old ally, Mick Rory who likewise turns that impassive gaze towards those dangling bones where Silverdane perches. "Lets play fetch," he adds, an instant before a torrent of fire and ice are unleashed towards Belinda.

Even from her perch, high above the floor proper, Silverdane will be able to smell those familiar scents from the Rogues that she has encountered before. And further, deeper in the building she will likewise detect that perfume favored by a certain purple-haired sorceress who sits cross-legged in that circle of power in the east wing of the building, muttering her incantations even while two of her fellows come under psychic assault.

Of all the people to try and tackle Wonder Woman, it is the Trickster who levitates out from behind a statues, giggling madly as he hurls... are those whoppee cushions? He expects to deal with the Amazon Princess with little inflated disks of plastic? But he isn't the Trickster for nothing, as those dozen or so children's pranks begin to explode all around Diana, filling the air with a noxious gas.

Just like Monet, Miss Maritan's telepathic assault serve's it's purpose. But it is quickly met with a counter. While for Monet, that counter was base in earth, against a Martian, what else will do but fire? A cage of flames suddenly springs up around her, slowly compressing inward, tighter and tigher, the heat of those flames palpable against her flesh.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Soaring overhead, Hal does what he can to offer a little relief to his teammates, Monet's cry catching his attention, a giant green axe springing from his ring, cutting that stone hand right in half and sending it smashing to the floor, freeing the flying mutant telepath.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
THis is a brutal fight. They're being swarmed by seemingly endless numbers of adversaries - the high end mystical threats on one end, the mere irritants like the Trickster on th eother. But that just means they have to literally and metaphorically dance around. They're separated, and spread out throughout the museum and pinned in. And they have no particularly heavy magical hitters of their own, strong as Diana is, spellcasting is not her specialty. And she's seen what magic can do to Kryptonians. In this close quarters brawl, Jon is particularly at extreme risk. Then M'Gann is consumed by fire - it radiates off the martian girl as she screams. Pain and fear are broadcast along a network that Monet can barely slam down on to protect herself and hope the worst of teh bleedoff doesn't hit ont he others. As she's smashsed up and down into the ground, the walls, and everything else she can only hiss in pain as bones break. She can't struggle her way free..

They're in a bad spot. While they can win, it won't be easy and their own lives could be lost. So Monet goes to cheat. She knows a few magic users. One with a particular hatred of demons..

<<Rien.. I need a favor>> She goes to broadcast her position over to the strange other-era girl that goes between dimensions and realms and sees if she's willing to respond to this particular curtain of chaos.

And then there's a backlash of more pain as Monet can barely focus once past the huge marble grip crushing her as she would be leaving a huge impact crater in the floor, even as the hand would keep on constricting.

Billy Batson has posed:
Shazam stops just short of Metallo. His hand darts out and there is a bright flash, as he arc welds the doors in his chest closed. "All yours Supes. I got some spells to punch. He gives Corben a canary eating grin and then flies into a wall of spells coalescing. Fists and lightning blur as he tries to disrupt the magical workings and block mystic bolts. "Champion of Magic, bitches!" His form is obscured by the energies he wrestles.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane *moves*. Neither with the speed of the Flash or the grace of Batman, the spinning, diving wolfwoman still manages to hit the floor with a clitter and clack of claws, a shriek (or three) from those nearby-- and the tingle of frost on her toes, the scent of something singed and smoking as she lands. Appearances betray her as her eyes narrow in concentration; ice and fire encountered before, and the hands of these two particular Rogues, their practice and skill is obvious. On all fours, claws grip the floor before Silverdane is moving again, lope and run-- an icy blast caught on her arm, swiftly sheathing half the limb in thick, cruel ice. An impromptu shield-- she winces as Heatwave's fiery burst follow up right after, melting flash-frozen ice and searing the flesh beneath.

Rare, brief, potent-- pain flares and sears, and where numb nerves are blasted into too-swift life, the werewolf howls again-- lunging through the air a heartbeat before the Cold Captain flash-glazes the ground, the attempt to sstop the lupine from leaping into her flying tackle--

The wild howl is met by someone's high-pitched shriek; wolf and Rogues slam into the ground together, caught up in a frenzy of fire and frost and wolven fury. Swift, brutal, bone-breaking-- the smell of burned flesh smolders acridly in the air as she seizes a wrist, twists, sets it creaking.... Cracking. Biting back her own grimace as something snaps in Heatwave's arm.

"Stay down," she growls warningly, whimpering silently as she turns to Captain Cold's captured appendage. The Captain simply gets a growling snarl; simple, because she slugs him across the jaw with a brutal hook instead!

"There," she snarls, reaching to the pouch at her waist, the zipties held ready there for the occasion. Quick practice, swift work-- seconds binding and trussing the two in capture. Too long, too /long/!

Jon Kent has posed:
When you grow up a Kent, when you are trained by none other than Superman himself, you are not accustomed to holding back, to taking it easy. So this one-two-punch routine with Shazam is right up Jon's alley. The addition of Parasite hardly seems of concern to him. The more the merrier, right?

But as Parasite leaps on him, he is simultaneously covered in the kryptonite radiation from Metallo's chest cavity. The look of shock on Jon's face is unparalleled astonishment. It's like being in the absolute peak of physical health your entire life and then instantly contracting every strain of the flu on Earth simultaneously. For the first time in his life, Superboy goes down on one knee, peering up at the sky, not understanding at all what is happening.

"Dad I..." he says to no one in particular. Superman is, to the best of everyone's knowledge, nowhere nearby. He reaches out to grab Parasite but it's like a middle school child trying to grab Dwayne Johnson.

The yellow sun of Earth - Sol - has been his constant nursemaid since the moment of his birth, infusing him with bewildering strength and now he is as far separated from it as the East is from the West. Parasite picks up the nearly helpless Superboy with a toothy grin. "It's pain time, boy," the creature says.

Thankfully, Shazam acts just in time, sealing shut Metallo's chest cavity and cutting Superboy off from the kryptonite. His strength returns like a sudden sunrise and he peers at Parasite with a glower. "You like to fly" he asks as he grabs the beast with hands that can rend hardened steel like it was paper and he shoots upward into the air like a rocket, knocking over trashcans and newspaper vending machines as he does. Once he is about a hundred feet up, he punches Parasite, sending him hurtling to the ground. He is lodged into the sidewalk, completely incapacitated.

Then Superboy picks up the feed from Jay Nakamura, and rockets back down through the opening and into the dome to help with the civilians inside.

"You okay?" he asks Jay the moment he arrives, scanning the man up and down with his X-ray vision looking for any injuries.

Diana Prince has posed:
Diana's advanced senses picked up on the arrival of the Trickster a second or so before he revealed himself to her. She shot her stare right upon him, her eyes glaring intensely at the figure. She turned her body to face him, her armored boots touching widely apart, as she narrowed her eyes at him. She watched him produce those cushions of hilarity, and raised her slim pointed chin as he prepared something with them.

When he acted upon it, Diana reacted. Her lasso unfurled from around her fist, twirling through the air, as she saw each pouch of gas burst open, spreading the fumes in a blossom in all directions. The lasso of Hestia began to rapidly spin again, bluring in to a golden disc, as Wonder Woman produced a flow of wind that was aimed directly at the gas clouds. In truth, gas had no real effect upon her, but she did not want the clouds to harm anyone else within her general space either, and thus she directed the flow of wind out the doors she had kicked open, back out in to the courtyard area beyond.

Having stepped behind a row of pillars, Diana was briefly out of sight from the Trickster, and though he may have believed that she had gone outside with the poison, in truth, she had moved around one of the pillars, her lasso suddenly lashing out to wrap around the Trickster's throat!

With a powerful yank, Diana pulled the rope taught, and pulled the Trickster directly to her! She grasped hold of his throat, and glared in to his eyes. "Fool."

Diana said only the one word, before she delivered a headbutt, crashing her golden tiara in to the forehead of the one who'd just tossed those gas pouches at her!

Jay Nakamura has posed:
    Jay Nakamura documents all the action from the mezzanine level above the main hall. Maybe the League folks will want to review it later for training purposes, but for now it's making for an excellent livestream. There's so much happening it's hard to decide what to focus on.
    The sight of Shazam battling magic directly like that is certainly a contender for the reporter's attention. The individual heroics of the others inside the museum each get several seconds centered in the frame. Jay will definitely be mad about missing the action outside, though.
    When he feels a familiar rush of air beside him he turns, keeping his phone aimed aside and swiftly muted. "Fine, thanks," he answers Superboy. His pulse is barely accelerated; his most serious injury seems to be from couching too long behind a railing.
    And why is he grinning like that? This is a serious mission! He's not supposed to be having fun.
    "I told you, I can take care of myself. It's sweet of you to worry, though. I'm about as useful here as someone who can talk to fish, but I'm in a safe spot. Go on, the folks down there need you more than I do right now."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
A favor, you say?

Rien is intrigued, following that mental ping all the way to Gotham, scrying to see what's going on. "Oooooooo, now this is interesting.. tch, demons. Can't have that.." It isn't easy to portal through someone else's magical dome. Especially when those people are Morgan LeFay, Talla, and Felix Faust. But Rien's her father's daughter as much as her mother's. Bone claws sheathed in a blue glow reach through the scrying pool to forcibly start tearing an opening up.

From the Museum perspective, sparks of electric blue magic start to putter and crackle above that giant marble fist. A thin, jagged line of similar colored magic forms a crack in the air as those bone claws start to break through, forcing the crack open wider, wider.

Giving a growl that's pure Howlett, Rien wrenches the portal open and leaps through without hesitation.

A short blonde dressed like a 90's biker chick and with three foot-long bone claws encased in glowing blue magical energy dives through the torn open portal in the air above the fist. Without hestitation, she twists herself around, that blue glow creeping to encase her hand as she SLAMS into the marble fist, both physically, and magically. The marble cracks, breaks, chips... then shatters apart under the strain of the magical blasts forced into it. Monet is shielded from the debris by that light blue glow as Rien tumbles through the rubble to land, catlike, on her feet.

"You rang, cherie?

Hal Jordan has posed:
Distractions upon distractions.

The Rogue's are not necessarily a threat, but there are enough of them to make a pretty good distraction, to delay them until Faust and the other magical heavy-hitters in the Injustice League can finish their ritual and whatever it is meant to accomplish. And they are having some success with just that, with some admitted help from some magical counterattacks.

That fiery cage continues to close in around M'gann, getting closer and closer to the Martian until it is in danger of charring her skin. Enough to finally render even her and her formidable might unconscious, just an instant before Green Lantern sweeps past once more, a giant green fire extinguisher snuffing out that flaming cage before transforming in a big emerald St. Bernard who carefully grabs M'gann by the cape and begins to tug her out of the way to safety from the fight going on around her.

Not yet done, Hal again comes to a stop in midair, hovering there above the giant marble fist that still clutches Monet. This time when his power ring flares it is a quart of giant car jacks that form, beginning to pump and lift, prying those stony fingers open around the mutant telepath, trying to finally give her a measure of freedom. Or at least enough relief so that she can turn her psychic might against them.

Though the Justice League is not the only one with a few powerful psychics at their disposal as a huge headed man in a floating chair wafts into view, those strangely slack features focused on the emerald warrior above, an unseen bolt of pure, mental force slamming out across the intervening distance at the speed of thought and sending him crashing to the ground and knocking him out of the air, struggling to maintain the integrity of his energy constructs.

<<Haaaaaaaal,>> comes that wheedling mental voice. <<Don't interfere Haaaaaaal,>> Hector Hammond says within his mind, his slack features otherwise unmoving, just staring fixedly at the fallen Lantern.

The Rogues are quick to be sure and Captain Cold and Heatwave are both practiced and used to working together. But not against the speed and strength of a wolf in would seem. The flying tackle takes both of them to the ground, sending them sprawling and while they each try to bring their respective weapons to bear on the situation, the snapping jaws of Silverdane puts a quick end to that, the pair struggling but ultimately unable to prevent her from slapping on those zipties as the fight rages around her.

The Trickster's gambit was probably always doomed to failure, but that doesn't seem to bother James Jesse and as the Amazon Princess redirects that gas -- ignoring the explosions entirely -- the Trickster simply pulls out a gun. Pointing it at her, he pulls the trigger and instead of a bullet hurtling her way a little flag that says 'Bang' appears instead. Giggling, the Trickster pulls the trigger again and the flag launches at her, crackling electricity rippling across the suction cup end that seeks purchase on Diana. At least before she casually gets that lasso wrapped around him and yanks him close. "I'm a foooooooool," he agrees in a singsong sort of voice, the truth magic of the lasso doing it's work.

Outside, the battle rages on and for a moment it looks like the Parasite might have the best of Jon, a sickening smile spreading over his inhuman face as he continues to absorb those powers. "It feels so good," the creature mutters. "more, more," he adds, feeding hungrily.

Until that kryponite is sealed away and the fight becomes a whole lot more even. Trying to bring his stolen power into play, the Parasite instead finds himself casually carried into the air before being knocked right back down, groaning as he literally craters into the ground, the nearby trashcans and vending machines toppling over into that little pit. "...not fair..." he mutters, still dazed, some of that stolen power already beginning to melt away.

Hal Jordan has posed:
With Metallo well in hand, Shazam crashes into that barrier of shadow and magic that surrounds the museum, his lightning crashing down and obliterating the barrier.

Then, finally reinforcements with a little practical magic expertise arrive as a new portal opens up, this time an unfamiliar mutant stepping through. But for a change, it isn't one of the bad guys. Instead it is likely that Rien will almost immediately get the sense of that ritual magic nearing it's crescendo.

And in that East Wing room, the glowing light of that magic circle with the trio of Injustice mages spread evenly around it gets brighter and brighter. In the center of it, the hazy, indistinct images of a Bell, a Jar and a Wheel begin to slowly fade into existence...

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She's able to break her way free from the giant marble hand just in time to make out that her summoned backup has arrived in minuet form. She goes to hit the ground right as she picks up that M'Gann has passed out. Hopefully mercifully so. The main threat is in the east wing, the Rogues are merely a distraction. Monet goes to get ready to fly in there and charge, even as she goes to brace to launch herself..

When there's a streak by her. And a flash of blood and blades. Another streak, another flash of blood and blades. A howl, a feral cry.

It takes Monet a half second to realize that first, the blood is her's, the next sec who the claws belong to.. She stumbles, even as in a blur and a flash stands CHEETAH licking off her claws. "Tasteless. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do." Monet goes to scream and launch herself over at Cheetah. ANother blur. Another flash of claws and blood. Fist going through wall. Attempted punch that has Cheetah running along the ceiling and dropping down next to Monet to slash. More blood. Strike along the ground avoided by Cheetah spinning along the walls at super speed. A punch from Monet goes through another wall. Cheetah goes to charge at her once more, catching Monet by the arm..

Then goes to spiral around several thousand times over in a half second, and goes to fling Monet through the wall of the barricaded east wing. The girl hits the ground, skimming hard in a heap of blood to arrive in the warded room of the group of mages seeking ultimate power.

A feral cry, another slash. Another scream. The Algerian Mutant has her own issues to deal with at the moment.

Namely staying alive.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Pain-- an old acquaintance, but one that enjoys letting one know it still has teeth-- and more than willing to bite. Silverdane's fangs bare in a grimace; the smell of singed hair drifts as she curves back over, scenting the wind within the museum, tasting the air. Where is it, where, that tang, the spice, the--

There. /There!/

Bright fangs spread in a grin; Silverdane curves back towards the shadow, the mad melody of chaos all around -- and drawn short. Pause.

Blood. Hot, fresh, human.

And she knows none of those who she is with would dare spill such, even from foes who have no such compunctions! Conflict tears at her before she makes her decision.

<< "League," >> Silverdane rumbles out through the commbeads. << "Who is hurt? Who is down? Tracking bloodspray. Am on move!" >>

Time for the second pouch's contents, that she hoped she would never need to use: clotting powder, blood agents, bandages. First aid.

Diana Prince has posed:
The dart that the Trickster shot at her found a place to attach right on to Diana's armor, but she ignored it. The danger it meant to deliver upon her wasn't great enough to truly affect her. Instead, she focused on him. After delivering the headbutt, she tossed him to the side, toppling over a display of museum information, causing it to clatter to the ground, along with him.

She stepped over him, and stared down at him, a single slip of restraining rope dangling from her right hand.

Moments later, Diana was rushing toward the eastern wing, the Trickster left hog-tied in a corner of that main entrance hall. She moved down the corridors at great speed, running with the grace of an Olympian. But her stride was suddenly interrupted, and her ability to reach the eastern hall in a timely fashion to stop the ritual was prevented.

Diana was tackled, and through the tackle, she and her attacker rolled end over end, slamming right up against a museum exhibit's marble barrier. When their bodies came to a halt, Diana found herself staring straight up at the sinister and scheming Doctor Psycho.

Doctor Psycho, glaring down at the Princess with twisted delight, sneered as he raised a telekinetically controlled shard of glass above her, taunting her with cruel words before sending it down for the kill! A sharp cry came from Doctor Psycho, however, as Diana rolled away from the incoming attack, disabling his right arm with a precise, powerful kick.

When Doctor Psycho looked down, he'd find a glimmering Amazonian knife shoved into his side, and with a growl of frustration, he lunged again at Diana.

The corridor instantly became filled with the chaotic clatter of a rather intense battle unfolding between sworn enemies!

Jay Nakamura has posed:
    Jay Nakamura continues catching shots of the ongoing heroics. Perhaps he gives Superboy more than his share of screen-time; no doubt some of the stream's viewers are begging for the camera to zoom in on Wonder Woman.
    As the enemy wizards start to glow even brighter, Jay takes that as a sign to vacate the premises as swiftly as possible before they... explode? Whatever evil wizards do when they're stuffed too full of magic.
    Jay dashes right back down the stairs and out the nearest exit, to what he hopes is a safe distance. Or wherever the other civilians are being dropped at, so he can start interviewing some of them about the harrowing ordeal.
    The Gotham tourism board is going to love that.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien turns as the buildup of magical energy starts to reach a crecscendo, her brows furrowing together as she looks over the ritual, trying to determine the best way to disrupt it. Or at least to keep the villains from achieving their goal. Decisions, decisions.

In the end, expedience wins out over style. Besides, best to not show her FULL hand yet. This seems like something that's going to be an issue again. She begins to craft a spell of her own, the magical energy building, that light blue glow running up from her hands, along her arms, until it covers her entire form. Anchored on the floor, her keen senses can pick up the sounds of the battles occurring around her, but she has to focus. The timing on this has to be perfect.

It's going to make LeFay screech and Faust shriek, and that's probably half the fun of it. The banishment spell building up in power and intensity as Rien waits for the perfect moment to unleash it. Not on her fellow weavers, however. Oh no. This banishment spell is aimed at the Bell, Jar, and Wheel. Just waiting for them to full resolve so she can send them off in a random dimensional direction. She'll have to make sure to put a magical lockdown on the museum after, make sure they don't just come back next week and try again. But that's for the cleanup later! For now, she concetrates on focusing the banishment spell on the specific energies of the demon-summoning items. This is HER wheelhouse. Literally what she was created to do.

Hal Jordan has posed:
It would seem that the Injustice League is really pulling out all the stops on this particular gambit, though after being chased out of Slaughter Swamp, after being chased out of Gorilla City and now after being chased out of the Savage Landm they might be reaching the point where they are getting a little desperate.

That the Cheetah would be lurking nearby is not a surprise. She has shown up more then once. And she is renewing old rivalries with Monet, leaving her injured and bleeding with those deadly claws.

But the fact that Dr. Psycho has taken the field as well is evidence enough that the Legion of Doom is pouring everything they have into this. One of the leaders of the League, chances are if he is here just about everyone is. Though perhaps he simply couldn't resist the urge to take his shot at Wonder Woman, unleashing all that misogynistic rage in the Amazon's direction.

So who else might be lurking about? The Reverse Flash? Giganta? Dr. Polaris? Mr. Freeze? Clayface? The possibilities are endless and clearly the numbers are not on their side.

But then they just need to disrupt that ritual. They don't need to defeat everyone in the process. Of course that might be easier said then done.

As much as Hal would like to help with that, the mental assault of Hector Hammond is doing a number on him and he struggles back to his knees, casting a glare towards his old rival. "I don't think so creep. And keep your brain to yourself, freak," he growls, his ring flaring brightly as a brilliant emerald boxing glove burst force and rips across that gap between the two men, aimming not for the oh so tempting target of that oversized chin of Hammond's, but instead the chair's stabilizer. Striking home, the Green Lantern sends him into a spin, that chair careening wildly throughout the room.

"Silverdane, I think M needs your assistance," Hal says, as he staggers back to his feet and lifts off, starting to head off in the direction that Wonder Woman did moments before, more constructs leaping from his ring to proceed him.

In the spirit of the day, emerald Revolutionary soldiers mingle with Civil War era cavalry men along with World War Two era G.I.'s, all racing towards that East Wing to add to the confusion there.

Fortunately for them all, they have some magical backup now, someone that can tell just how close Faust and the others are to accomplishing their goal.

The counterspell from Rien has the intended effect and the sudden manifestation of that trio of demon-infused relics is brought to a crashing halt -- or at least slowed considerably -- as the trio find themselves suddenly pitted against that additional barrier. Voices rise as Faust, LeFay and Tala try to simply overpower it.

But meanwhile in the hall, heavy boot steps get closer and closer.

Diana Prince has posed:
Doctor Psycho's furious lunge was met with Diana?s swift and unyielding defense. She pivoted on her heel, deflecting his telekinetic assault with her bracelets, the clash of power and steel ringing through the corridor. Diana's eyes narrowed, her expression steely, as she pressed the advantage, driving him back with a series of powerful, precise strikes.

"You should know better than to underestimate me, Doctor," Diana's voice was low and determined, each word punctuated by another strike that forced Doctor Psycho onto the defensive. His telekinesis flared wildly, sending objects crashing around them, but nothing could pierce Diana's focused resolve.

With a sudden, decisive movement, Diana caught him off guard, her lasso snapping out and ensnaring him in its golden, unbreakable coils. He struggled, thrashing against the lasso's hold, but it was futile. The more he fought, the tighter the lasso's grip became, until he was immobilized, his powers neutralized by the weapon's truth-compelling nature, breaking his ability to concentrate.

Diana moved in close, her gaze steady and commanding. "This ends now, Psycho," she declared, her voice brooking no argument. She tightened the lasso further, his struggles ceasing as he was overwhelmed by the lasso's divine power. In one final motion, Diana drew him to his knees, his twisted mind laid bare and helpless before her. With his defeat inevitable, she loosened her hold just enough to ensure he would not try another attack, her eyes never leaving his as she prepared to deliver him to justice. The corridor, now silent except for their breathing, stood as a quiet precursor to Diana's impending wrath for his attacks upon her.

Seconds later, and diana was running toward that east wing location again, leaving the Doctor in her wake. He laid there, bound by a museum banner's rope, with one of the Trickster's fart smelling whoopie cushions tied against his mouth.

<"Everyone, status updates!"> Wonder Woman's voice called out over the team comms.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet is left in a heap over as the brawl goes elsewhere. She can see the tide starting to turn over against the magiciennes, even as she can barely move over in her current state. But she's not going to be content there to just stay as is. She can still breathe, she can still fight. She sees the magic going to rise up over as the wizards try to overpower the spell, and they seem to be failing, and the brutalized girl smiles. Cheetah will be off to play with someone else or get out of there as the tables turn. She goes to continue her smear of a crawl through, dragging herself along then towards the trio. Tala, LeFay, Faust. All she has to do is try and take down one of themm and stop things completely.

But it hurts.. It hurts so much as she agonizingly goes forwards, pulling herself along brutally, ignored in the fight. Meters. Centimeters. Pull by pull. Crawling along now and left behind. The nexus of energy seems to be waning, backfiring, about at the point of exploding..

She goes to smash out with a hand almost like a viper - or at lesat that's her intent as her hand goes to try and go towards the ankle of the golden masked woman. Her hand goes to grasp up to try and altch onto it as the energy nexus seems to continue to backfire.. Her palm, smeared with blood, can't quite make it.

Morgan LeFaye looks down at her, Monet's hand trembling along the ground, grasping at her ankle. The ancient woman muses. "So unwise.."

Then there's a stomp, a short blast of magical energy..

And Monet is finally quiet.

Belinda Gutierrez has posed:
Silverdane's glowering grimace carries over the urge driving one way and another. But first-- first, focus. And direction-- Green Lantern's words!

Mission renewed, she takes off like a shot, slipping along. COrridor, alcove, following scent, trailing heat..... Bloodscent.

Hoping she gets there in time.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Ah, here we go. They want to try and overpower her. Rien quirks a grim little smile and gives a small nod.

She holds up under the onslaught, pushing more of her own magical energies into the banishment spell, but she begins to whisper in an ancient tongue. An Old Tongue. R'lyehian. The trio might know it for what it is. Whether anyone ELSE would, well. That's for later. It isn't a big display, she isn't calling on the world-eaters. No, not her. Her patron, her Old One, is Mynoghra. One of the few that actually likes humanity right where it is.

But oh, the doors that creak open in the minds of Morgan LeFay, Talla, and Felix Faust... they're about to be exposed to the full brunt STARE of the Abyss. It won't do any permanent damange, aside from some PTSD maybe. But in the immediate, that look into the inky Void of madness should be enough to disrupt them from their attempts to halt her banishment.

Rien finishes her spell and releases it precisely as the trio of objects fully realize into this reality. That light blue glow threaded through with inky darkness as a sort of MAW opens up behind the Bell, Jar, and Wheel. It's like out of a horror movie, bloodied lips peeling back from a circular mouth of needle-sharp teeth dripping ichor and viscera, the jaw extending forth beyond the lips to CHOMP the items, swallowing them down and sending them spiralling away into another dimension. One that might be a little harder to reach. The teeth retract behind the lips and the maw folds in upon itself before disappearing, leaving just a small dark blob of ichor on the floor where it had hovered.

Withdrawing the influence of her patron, Rien shoulders roughly past Morrigan to scoop up the unconscious Monet and carry her towards that much needed medical attention.

Hearing the call for updates coming from the comm unit in Monet's ear, Rien plucks it out and speaks into the piece, "Bon soir. The ritual is interrupted, they won't be getting them anytime soon. Monet is down, she needs medical attention." The French accent is soft and husky, but the words at least bring (mostly) good news!

Hal Jordan has posed:
In all likelihood the might of the Injustice League, the sheer numbers they have at their disposal were meant to hold off the Justice League and their allies until such a time as the ritual was completed.

And while they might have been ready for a mystical assault, they likely expected something more traditional, something from Zatanna or Dr. Fate. Perhaps some sort of trick from Constantine, or sheer elemental power from Meggan. Any of the normal mystical allies that the Justice League might bring to bear on the situation.

They probably weren't expecting to have an Old One pushed into their minds though.

Under other circumstances they might have been able to prepare. Faust is devious, Tala an experienced hand, but Morgan LeFay especially is a force to be reckoned with. Capable of facing down Merlin himself and as strong as any of the mystical resources the Injustice League has to call upon, except, perhaps Circe herself.

Had she had the chance to prepare, had she not been distracted by the crawling, wrecked form of Monet and the chancwe to take a little retribution for the psychic trick the mutant telepath tried to play on her with the images of Roma and Saturnyne, maybe she could have countered. Maybe she could have pitted her own might long enough for the other two sorcerers with her to push past the counterspell that Rien had unleashed.

But between that glimpse into such an unknowlable mind, between Monet's last ditch effort to interrvene, between Diana's arrival accompanied by a horde of glowing green soliders serving as her back up, it is all just too much.

The ritual collapses, the solidifying images of the Bell, the Jar and the Wheel vanish and Faust lets out a pained 'Noooooooooo', a howl of despair that will likely not ease when each time he closes his mind that glimpse into that unknowable mind will flood back into his consciuousness for weeks at a time.

As the ritual falls apart, a musical laugh sounds and another purple haired woman steps out from the space between, appearing as if out of nowhere. "I told them they were foolish to try this. Oh well, this will be another one they owe me. You are all so much fun, though it seems my favorite archer is missing in action," Circe says with a mock pout. "Oh well, next time. He does squeal so delightfully."

Then, the anciet sorceress blows a mocking kiss towards Diana, wiggles fingers and fades right back out of existence. And through the museum, or in the square outside the other Injustice League members follow suit.

The ritual is stopped, Faust's ambitions to once more become a true power thwarted and there is time to get Monet and M'gann and the others the medical attention they need.

BUt clearly the Injustice League has no intention of going away quietly. Not by a long shot.

Diana Prince has posed:
Arriving just in time to see the InJustice League's retreat, Diana comes to a stop, a glance given to the green soldiers behind her. She holds her lasso in coils within her left hand, her sword gripped in her right. She had heard Rien's voice over the claimed comm link, and soon found the woman, holding Monet. "Cheetah..." Diana said, sounding exasperated. Cheetah had developed an affinity for hurting any Amazonian women she could, and Monet-- a trainee-- had been the target of that ire multiple times now.

Approaching Rien, Diana put her weapons away, lasso back to hip, and sword back to sheath behind her shoulders. She holds her arms out, offering to take Monet from Rien. "Thank you, for whatever ccontributions you have made here today... The help is, appreciated." Wonder Woman tells her, showing a soft smile that comes and goes quickly.

"I would love to hear the details too, but we best get the injured medical attention."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien turns at the sight of the green construct army at Diana's heels, she offers a fleeting smile towards the Amazon. "Monet called me in for a magical assist. While I handle magic of most types, demons and banishing spells are a particular specialty of mine. I'm glad to lend a hand again if you guys keep running into those... well, four, technically, thought Circe just gloated a bit before sneaking everyone away." She glances to Monet, then back to Diana, "If you have a medbay somewhere, I can get her back on her feet. A quick transfusion will heal her up fast."

Still, she offers Monet over to Diana and gives a nod, "Lead the way, I'll be glad to fill you in while she heals."