19769/Injustice For All: The Queen And Her Court

Injustice For All: The Queen And Her Court
Date of Scene:	06 January 2025
Location:	Downtown - New Troy
Synopsis:	The Queen of Fables makes her presence known in Metropolis thanks to the machinations of the Injustice League. She finds herself opposed by some unlikely foes.
Cast of Characters:	Hal Jordan, Monet St. Croix, Lois Lane, Kara Danvers, Carol Ferris, Nico Minoru, Stirling Winchester, Nia Nal
Tinyplot:	Injustice For All

---

Hal Jordan has posed:
There are certain responsibilities that come along with being a part of the Justice League. Responsibilities like sitting the periodic watches. While the League has some of the most advanced computers on Earth, in large part thanks the number of members who have access to advanced and alien technology, and those computers do a wonderful job of watching for threats via all the media and interest channels available to it, it still requires sentient eyes to determine what needs to be actioned and what does not.

That is the responsibility that Hal Jordan has drawn on this particular day. Most of the time, these duties tend to be a little quiet. A little boring.

So being the thoughtful person that he is, Hal's brought along a date. Not exactly standard operating procedure, but then his particular date isn't just anyone.

Sprawled in a chair in front of a bank of monitors, Hal Jordan rather casually munches on a breakfast sandwich, a steaming cup of coffee only a short distance away. "Thanks again for this Carol," he says between bites. "I'm done in..." he begins, glancing at the clock that is about to strike noon, "...a little more then four hours. And then we can do whatever you want," he says wryly. "It should be quiet. Who plots crimes for a Sunday afternoon?"

Famous last words.

At the stroke of noon, the storm begins. Deep beneath the city, in a forgotten chamber, a ritual reaches its climax. Cloaked figures gather around a storybook bound in chains, their incantations weaving with a crescendo of crackling energy. The final lock shatters, and violet light explodes outward and a glimmering portal opens in the center of the chamber as a voice, cold and commanding, fills the chamber.

?My tale begins anew,? the Queen declares, stepping from her prison. Her laughter spirals into the heavens, carried by the growing storm. After dipping her head towards her new partners and offering a cool if serene smile, she rises above the Metropolis skyline, her silver-clad figure commanding the horizon. With a wave of her hand, the city begins to reshape itself.

The sky above Metropolis darkens unnaturally, a swirling mass of violet clouds laced with jagged lightning. At the city?s heart, the Daily Planet begins to twist and reform, its iconic globe atop the spire contorting into a sinister crown. Stone walls climb its surface, and blood-red vines spiral upward, transforming the skyscraper into a grotesque castle.

The ground ripples as streets reshape into winding cobblestone paths, and nearby buildings groan, bending into shapes both whimsical and menacing. A commuter bus sinks into the street, twisting into a gnarled, living tree that lashes out with roots to ensnare its passengers. Overhead, a massive dragon with glassy, fractured scales takes flight, its roar shaking windows across the city.

Amid the chaos, figures emerge?black-armored knights wielding flame-wreathed swords march through the streets, spreading destruction. As citizens scream and flee, the Queen of Fables appears in the sky, a terrible and radiant figure cloaked in silver threads that trail like smoke. Her melodic, cruel voice carries through the city.

?Behold the first chapter of my tale! A land reshaped by imagination. I am your Queen, and this is my kingdom. Surrender, or face the wrath of my story!?

Her words ripple with magical compulsion, driving some to their knees while others resist with sheer willpower. The Justice League signal blares on emergency frequencies, calling all nearby heroes to respond. Sirens wail as first responders struggle through shifting terrain.

Metropolis is under siege. Citizens are trapped in rapidly changing environments?a car swallowed by a pumpkin carriage, an office building transformed into a crumbling gingerbread house. The dragon patrols the skies, spitting gouts of flame, while knights engage anyone who resists.

In the Hall, Hal stares at the monitors in disbelief. "What the hell," he exclaims, that green aura already lifting him from the ground.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
She doesn't go to Metropolis much, but on occasion she drops in. So today she's going in to pass by STAR Labs to check up on some information requested by Forge and some various small 'prototypes' that she knew nothing of, just that they were things that Forge was interested in, and anything Forge thought was 'interesting' someone else had made was a very terrifying concept. So, Monet is over in Metropolis on her way towards one of the leading alien research centers on the planet, just when the situation turns acid.

It takes her a moment to try and process thinsg as everything goes to unmake and then remake itself. Is this what it's like being thrown into Limbo with no idea what you're going into?

Monet goes to try and tap into her comm-piece, and it just gives static. There are likely people going into a wide panic now throughout the area - or maybe Metropolis handles things like this in a much hardier way than New York does. Monet goes to take a deep breath as she looks up into the sky - there's no coordinating until she runs into someone else and has the range telepathically.

So she's flying up into the air, looping to take herself several hundred meters away from the terrormongering Queen.

She hovers, far enough away to have plenty of room to dodge and hopefully evade anything that is reality warping, but also able to keep track and call out targets to anyone she can pick up by telepathically along the way.

Lois Lane has posed:
The iconic globe, once a beacon of truth and hope, warped into a jagged crown, belongs to the Daily Planet. Within, one of the reporters glances up as the sky darkens and things change. Lois Lane doesn't flinch. Instead, she grabs her streaming recorder, slings her bag over her shoulder, and starts filming through the glass. "Metropolis is under attack," she says, her voice steady. "A magical force has overtaken the city and is reshaping everything into a nightmare."

Turning from the window, she assesses her surroundings. The newsroom isn't safe. She can already feel the floor shifting beneath her. Somewhere below, the sound of the elevator grinding to a halt echoes through the stairwell. Lois doesn't wait for it to get worse. She takes off toward the emergency exit, her heels clicking against the unsteady tiles.

Her phone buzzes with an incoming call. "Lane," she answers, cutting off the panicked voice on the other end. "I'm on it. Tell Perry I'll file when I can."

Outside, the scene is worse. People scatter, dodging knights whose swords blaze with unnatural fire. A dragon circles overhead, its roar shaking the air. Lois ducks into an alley, keeping low, her recorder running. "The forces are advancing," she whispers into it. "Citizens are trying to escape, but the city is turning against them. If anyone can hear this, Metropolis needs help." By that, she means any of those Kryptonians that can hear her voice from who knows how far away.

The wail of emergency sirens cuts through the chaos. She spots first responders struggling against the shifting streets, their vehicles trapped by gnarled roots and cobblestones. For a moment, Lois hesitates. Her instincts scream to jump in, to help, but she knows her role. She has to keep recording, keep the world informed.

Her voice hardens as she adds, "To anyone listening, we don't need just the League. We need any hero we can get."

Kara Danvers has posed:
--- Moments Ago, at a Corner Cafe in Metropolis ---

Look! There, at that corner cafe! It's a bird! It's a plane...! Wait, no, it's...

"Oh my /God/, stop. You are too funny," says Kara Danvers, dressed in a cute little Tartan sweater and one of those tight-fitting black bodysuit turtle neck things. Chunky jewelry. Makeup that isn't just lazy eyeliner. Hair straightened, and worn down, instead of tucked into a messy bun. Faux-contacts in (a risky maneuver, given that the glasses are part of her disguise)...

Oh my god...

"I'm really not. You're just saying that because you want my watch," says the man across from her. Young, but older. A bit of scruff. Nice chin. A mechanical watch that he's insisting on showing her, since he thinks it's very cool.

Oh my GOD...!

"It is a very cool watch. But, no. You are actually funny. Do you know how nice it is to have dinner with someone who is actually funny?"
"Probably a bit what it's like to be on a date with somebody pretty."

Queue squeaking silverware on a plate. Queue demure gaze aversion.

OH MY GOD, THIS IS A DATE!!!

And a good one, judging by the banter. Which is why, when above the sky begins to swirl, and the landscape starts to shift, Kara Danvers can only stare up at the heavens and ask them -- why? Why? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO FALL IN LO--

"Kara, we should get out of here," says Kara's nameless date. A smart man, clearly, and one who has (also clearly) lived in Metropolis for awhile.
"...I need to use the ladies room," Kara responds. Abruptly stands. Stalks off towards the diner, as the land starts to shift all around her, and Metropolis seems hellbent on turning into, like. Candy-Land Dungeons and Dragons.
"N-now?!" he calls out.
"Get to the bank down the street! I'll meet you there! I do /not/ want to be in locked down and having to pee!"

--- Now, In the Skies Above Metropolis ---

....IT'S SUPERGIRL!

"I'm on it," Supergirl says, and zooooooms down to the street to snatch up a group of huddled together civilians before they get snatched up by one of them there dragons. Who is she talking to? Lois Lane, of course.

"Can someone tell me what the /FUDGE/ is going on? And also why it couldn't wait for, like. At least another two to four hours? Ideally an entire day?"

Carol Ferris has posed:
"Thanks? For giving me an opportunity to spend time with you?"

Carol's eyebrows lift, her blue eyes warm and playful, framed by dark hair. She's dressed in a violet sweater, its V-neck cut in a professional, feminine style, and gray wool skirt that reaches to the tops of her knees. On her feet are a pair of knee-high black boots with modest, chunky heels. Her heavy overcoat has been draped over her chair.

"You're... welcome, I guess?"

Her smile tugs a little more openly, though she reaches unapologetically over to pick up Hal's cup of coffee and take a sip from it. Hers had run dry, and she hadn't yet left her open laptop to go get a new one.

"It's fine, Hal. Really. I've been doing so much of my work from the Interceptor, recently, that being in the same city is just like being in my office. Besides, it's nice to get another behind the scenes peek. Who knows? Maybe the Star Sapphire Corps joins the Justice League, one day..."

Aaaaaand that's all the banter they get. She notices Hal's shift in aura even before all of the alerts register, and her eyes flash over to the monitors.

"Is that... here?!"

Like the man beside her, Carol's aura shifts, but not to green -- to violet. She sets his coffee back down a second before a violet flash transforms her outfit from that work attire to a costume that's... well... significantly less winter-appropriate. Thank goodness for the violet shield that protects her even in the vacuum of space. The violet outfit seems to glow with its own light, the pluging 'V' neckline, thigh-high boots, and violet mask that's shaped like a crown marking her not just as _a_ Star Sapphire, but as _The_ Star Sapphire... the Queen of the Zamarons.

"I'm on... I don't know. I'll figure it out when I get out there..."

Laptop, coffee, and winter coat left behind, Star Sapphire is already on the move from the Hall of Justice. Even as she moves, she's speaking, her voice carried through her Star Sapphire Ring to Hal's Green Lantern Ring.

"... But I'll let you owe me one, now!"

Nico Minoru has posed:
Nico Minoru spent much of her morning telling the universe that she doesn't care. "I don't care!" she told her tea leaves before taking her first sip. "I don't care!" she shouted at the augury birds that wouldn't stop pecking at the window. "I don't care!" she yelled, pushing the crystal ball over in a huff. It wasn't until she drew a particularly troublesome tableau from her tarot deck that Nico Minoru finally took the universe seriously.

A small crack of thunder echoes across the sky as the Japanese goth emerges from supersonic flight and enters Metropolis' airspace. She's dressed as she usually is: like a Hot Topic just had a massive sale and she got there first. Today, that means a black, corsetted dress with crimson undertones, black tights, elbow-length finger-less gloves, and big, stompy Doc Martens. She's just flying high above the city in that getup, apparently under her own power. She didn't NEED to be sitting on a broom, but Wicked is in theaters and it's doing really well, so why not?

"Oh, so it's going to be one of /THOSE/ Sundays..." she complains to no one as she stares at the wanton destruction down below. Typically, this kind of thing is handled by the ones who wear tights and capes, but this disaster is magical in nature and that happens to be the personal avenue of Nico Minoru.

Stirling Winchester has posed:
Metropolis. Last time Stirling was here he hospitalized a misogynist at a martial arts convention. He's still proud of himself for that one. Today he's doing something a little bit different. He's tracking down the source of some scary pharmaceuticals he caught moving through New York. Unfortunately, he's kind of at a loss.

Dressed in outdoor attire almost like he's going hiking, the veteran mercenary is secretly quite well armed and armored. Under his clothes is an armor bodysuit with Kevlar weaved into it, and numerous weapons and gadgets. Even a grapple gun. Though this is a recon mission things do occasionally go sideways and it's best to be prepared.

As he walks the streets of New Troy Stirling lets his super senses do their thing, trying to locate any signs of the stuff he's after. Having not had any luck he's about to give up for the time being and check out Chinatown for food. That's when the world gets real weird, real fast.

Winchester's eyes go big when the world around him starts to warp. He reaches for the Spider-Watch he's recently been given and goes to send out an alert even as he's trying to figure out exactly what's going on and where he needs to be to do the most good. Probably the giant castle.

Then there's a new voice in his head. Not one of his ancestors, for once. It's compelling him to surrender!

"Don't listen to that witch, Guillermo. You know what to do, you save these people and you put that Queen lady in traction." The wise words of his deceased aunt, who is herself a witch, speak true to him.

Without hesitation Stirling shakes off the attempt at mentally manipulating him and pulls a brown and black shemagh scarf out of his pocket, swiftly putting it on over his head and lower half of his face. Better than no mask at all, and it doesn't seem like there's any cameras around to see him put it on at the moment. Once masked he peels off his hiking jacket and tosses it onto a nearby shrub, revealing his new bodysuit, freshly spraypainted in tans and greens. Around his waist is a belt with all manner of weapon and gadget on it, and suspenders to help evenly distribute the weight. Ready to move, the hero starts running towards the castle, jumping into the air and using the grapple gun to aid his travels and increase his speed.

He doesn't get far before he sees some of the knights menacing civilians. His abuela tells him, "Go help them!"

Pathfinder's course changes and he moves to intercept the anachronistic threats while striving to get their attention, "Over here, assholes! You're about to see what a real soldier can do."

Nia Nal has posed:
    Precognition. THe price the Dreamer pays for, well, being the Dreamer. It means, that Nia Nal not only gets to see in to the future in her sleep, she gets glimpses of /what could be/ while awake as well. It doesn't always work, and she can't always trust it, but when it does work, well...

    Sliding to a stop right infront of Lois, with a blue shield of energy raising and lighting up the enviroment around them, Nia looks to Lois and smiles, "Do I count as one of those any heroes we can get Miss Lane?" Why the shield? Well, because Lois was about to be smashed by something she didn't see coming, that's why.

    Also, the other good part about seeing the future, or rather bits of it? Nia was already ready for this. Sometimes the price of being the Dreamer is one worth paying, Nightmares.

Hal Jordan has posed:
To be sure, their 'new queen' does indeed look like something out of a fairy tale, that dress of shimmering silver seeming to glow almost violet as it reflects ever crash of unnatural violet lightning that crashes through the air, that lights up the world of Metropolis.

She hangs there, in the middle of the air, mistress of all she surveys, giving the occasional flick of the device she holds -- it's difficult to tell if it is a wand or a scepter -- and the air around her seems to shimmer in an almost rhythmic manner, ripples of that shimmering energy seeming to explode from her in that same periodic fashion, to roll out across the city. And where they touch, the world is seemingly remade to her whim.

So many of the effects are obvious -- the Daily Planet building and others -- but some are more subtle. The trees of the nearby New Troy park seem to shift, to grow just a little, seem to edge closer together as leafless boughs stretch forth, looking like grasping hands. And through those densely packed trunks? A glimpse of a gingerbread house can be scene.

Other changes are more dramatic, but a little less ominous. The streets of the city, rife with traffic lights and light standards begin to shift too, black pavement replaced by cobblestone. Cars shift, collapse in on themselves, some becoming horse draw carriages of the most elaborate and beautiful sorts, others becoming hand-drawn carts overflowing with rotting stray.

Traffic lights and light stanchions shift, stretch, reaching out to join together before shifting into elaborate wooden tresllis' that span the streets, most decorated with the 'royal seal' in glimmering silvers and gold.

It might even be magical. But for those black armored knights that stalk the streets, featureless in this stark masks, their swords drawn. Magical if not for the gleaming dragon that flies overhead, great beats of it's wings sending waves of cold poundig down at those below while the ocasional burst of fire coming from it's mouth -- bright red in stark contrast to the violet lightning that still periodically explodes from the blackened sky.

None of that is very reassuring. And more seems to be piling up all the time.

Things seem to be growing worse with every single pulse, the to the city increasing. And beginning to affect not just things, not just buildings and cars and trees. But people too. Because as Kara swoops in towards that group of terrified citizens, a shambling creature, more then ten feet tall with bulbous features and a huge club moves to intercept her. The unfortunate part? The clue that all might not be as it seems? there is an awfully familiar watch circling the creatures now tree-trunk like wrist.

Sorry Kara. Your date's an ogre. Literally.

As for Pathfinder, his sudden appearance does indeed grab the attention of the knight on his horse who wheels, the creature looking as much demon as horse with hooves that almost seem to melt the street beneath it and glowing red eyes beneath it's armored barding. "Kneel," comes the inhuman voice from behind that armored helm. "Kneel and pay homage to your Queen," it intones, raising it's sword as if to emphasize those words. It doesn't seem to be asking.

Inside the Hall, as Hal begins to fly through it's corridors, out through the main concourse and into the streets of the city he says, both for the benefit of those with access to the Justice League comms and for Carol at his side, "Be very careful. The League has encountered this woman before in another dimension. She calls herself the Queen of Fables and she can rewrite reality to her whims. And her whims are not always pretty. She's definitely magical, so use extra caution," the Green Lantern urges.

And then, as if to get in the 'mood' of the day, he he bursts through the doors of the Hall, out onto the streets of Metropolis, wrappe in glowing green armor and riding a gleaming emerald horse.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet has read Brother's Grimm. So when she sees a fairy, she knows rapidly what to expect. She goes to see things rising up and goes to swear over, moving to send out a telepathic alert to everyone within mind distance. <<Alert, reality warping entity present, likely magical. THey are engaging in mass transmogrification of individuals and objects in the area in a way similar to Circe. Requesting backup.>> She's not particularly sure they can fight such a thing up front.. And damage containment is rather useless when it comes to someone who can just make a leveled street get up and turn into a golem.

She goes to quickly turn up over to the Queen of Fables, and goes to try to figure out how to get over at her.. Then frowns.

Without Illyana present, she'll need something effective an anti-magic.. What is it that according to myth fae were week to? Cold iron. That's more of a British thing rather than eastern Europe inspired, where this wretch seems to come from.. But, it's something to try. Monet goes to race down, moving to skim along until she can pick up a very large lamppost.. Her fingers glide over it and tugs it. Alloy.

She goes to another. Steel composite. She needs something pure.. She quickly scans through several more until she finds something that's.. Useful.

It's a broken parking meter which has as close to as she can tell a mostly pure iron mix. She goes to use her hand to start sharpening the end of it.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois watches Dreamer's shield shimmer with the energy of foresight and quick action, her breath catching for a split second. "You count more than most," she replies, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. She straightens, brushing dust off her blazer. "Thanks for the save. Now, let me do my part." If she had recognized her, it didn't show, but then Lois is a very old pro at keeping secret identities secret.

The air hums with tension as Lois steps out from behind the shield, her path cutting a deliberate line through the chaos. She moves past the cobblestone streets, past the transformed vehicles, and toward the surreal tableau that the Queen of Fables commands. The violet lightning crackling around her feels like a distant echo as Lois focuses on the figure suspended in the sky.

The Queen's dress reflects the storm, the scepter in her hand pulsing with power as ripples reshape the city. Lois feels her heartbeat quicken, but she forces calm into her steps. This isn't her first encounter with a being who can rewrite reality. She's faced gods, aliens, and beings with powers beyond comprehension. What's one more?

When she's close enough to be heard, Lois cups her hands around her mouth. "Your Majesty!" she calls out, her voice sharp, cutting through the din. "I'm Lois Lane of the Daily Planet! If you're going to rewrite Metropolis, the people deserve to know why. Care to give me an interview?"

Stirling Winchester has posed:
"The only Queen I'll bend the knee to used to be fronted by Freddie Mercury," Pathfinder says as he looks up at the horse and its rider, starting to crack a smile underneath his scarf. "Let me guess: You're going to try to kill me. You know what happens next? I'm going to find out which of your limbs snapping will make you cry the hardest."

Pathfinder has trained for fighting folks with swords. Much like Indiana Jones, he just draws and shoots those jerks. Seeing as how he's doing the non-lethal thing in costume, he decides to try something less likely to kill. He darts in, moving with quick strides as he bounces from left to right to try to fake the knight out. As he nears the horse and rider, however, he dashes towards the armored figure's non-dominant side, cocks back his arms and tries to deliver a punch with all of his might into the man who told him to kneel! Should he unhorse the villain it will be time to secure his weapon and pommel strike it's owner into unconsciousness.

Nia Nal has posed:
    Oh, oh that's not... Yeah okay, well, here we go. Lois doing her Lois thing, which is to say, staring down gods and asking for a bloody interview. What else is new?

    Nia hesitates, does she protect Lois or... let her do her thing, as she asked? Not that she has much in the way of time to make that call. To her credit though, she looks skyward and decides to think big. She snaps both arms out and launches long crackling blue chains of energy at the Dragon. Lasoing it and trying, with all her might, (about two tons worth) to drag it out of the sky. Grunting and gritting Teeth as she does. "Get... Down... Here..."

Kara Danvers has posed:
- Zip! Swoosh! WoooooooooOOooosh~~ -

There goes Supergirl, swooping in to rescue that gathering of civilians, snatching them away from the jaws of defeat (by a dragon). She's careful to release them onto their feet in front of that corner bank that she'd instructed her (still unnamed) date to hide within, lowering down onto her knee to address a rather terrified little boy with an encouraging pat to his cheek.
"It's going to be okay," she assures him, amidst sniffly little tears. So sad.

"But you gotta hide for now, okay? Follow your mama and your dada."

There's another sniffle. A nod. A somber expression from both mother and father, both of whom get a similar, albeit softer and more nuanced, expression that Supergirl had given their son. It says: 'It'll all be okay.'

And when they depart for the bank, Kara does take a moment or two to peer towards the bank, in hopes of catching the sight of her date scrambling inside. Or maybe, you know. Gallantly waiting for her outside -- eyes wide, afraid, but chivalrous!

Instead, she sees an ogre. Shambling closer, on an intercept course. A green ogre, with a club. And a really nice watc--

"Oh... sugarshack," Supergirl murmurs, staring up at that massive club being foisted above her head, pupils dilating beneath its shadow just before it is brought down onto concrete...!

    ** CRACK **

The dust spit up by the impact settles, but instead of a Kryptonian corpse beneath the heft of it, there is nothing but cracked pavement and shattered splinters of wood.

"I know you don't want to do this. I know this isn't you," Supergirl assures the ogre, who blinks blindly through the dust and swings at her again. And again, the club finds no purchase.

"I need you... to think. I need you to rememb--"

        **CRACK**

    The ogre swings his club again, for Supergirl's face. And this time it does find purchase. The impact strikes her lifted forearms, where, instead of bone and skin liquifying, it seems as if the club itself was the thing that struck the immovable object. It frays at its core, before splitting in two, with the second half skipping across the ground behind her.

"Please..." Kara urges.

Over her earpiece, she hears Lois' gambit and gulps. Audibly. GULP!

"I hope you know what you're doing..." she murmurs, but seems, at least in this moment, to be well contended with her former date.

Guess you could say date night is...

Ogre...

Carol Ferris has posed:
Not one to be outdone by her emerald green counterpart, the streak of violet energy that exits the Hall of Justice with Green Lantern flies up into the air. And as they part ways, beneath Star Sapphire there forms a giant violet eagle, its wings flapping majestically, and long, sheer silks seem to trail from the shoulders of the dark-haired woman riding it.

<< "How are we supposed tell the CONSTRUCTS from the PEOPLE?!" >>

It's... a problem. The talons of that eagle could easily grab up something the size of an orc and drop it from the sky, but as watch-obsessed as one particular orc might be, it seems a rather unfitting end to an otherwise pleasant date.

On the other hand, some of these things are definitely made of pure magic... right?

Star Sapphire's eagle soars higher into the gloom, the storm, and it isn't long before she's met with the breath of that dragon that arcs towards her, intercepting her, lashing out with fire.

The eagle's wings flap away, almost too late, the jet of flames about to consume it and its rider -- except Nia's blue chains capture the dragon and yank it just in time, leaving Star Sapphire to fly through a plume of smoke instead.

Violet energy flares as she circles her eagle back around, crating a glowing whip made of thorns and roses as she comes up next to Nia, lashing out with it to bind the dragon's mouth closed, to keep that fire under control and to help her drag it down.

"Together!" Star Sapphire yells.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Forget Brother's Grimm. SISTER GRIMM is here and none too impressed.

"Literally my first time in Metropolis and..." Nico mutters, watching the city transform beneath her. "...It is not as cool as they said it would be."

The witch rolls her eyes and continues flying in a little circle above the city, watching things unfold for a few seconds. The supers are coming out of the woodwork -- that's good -- but is this really something they're used to dealing with? The Justice League Dark, sure, but what about Justice League Vanilla? Nico doesn't break from her holding pattern until her eye is caught by a lone hero being told to bend the knee by ... something ... on horseback. It doesn't look like he's going to do it and, from this vantage point, he looks like one of those 'useful things on a belt' heroes and not the last son of some alien planet. For that reason, Nico tilts her broom's nose down and rips through the air towards Stirling Winchester.

Nico's flight is not an easy one -- there are gnarled trees springing up all of a sudden, eddies in the air from that damn dragon flapping its wings, and even ... an ogre? She jerks her broom to the side to narrowly avoid it.

"Nice watch!" she can be heard shouting as she zips by on her broom.

As Nico gets closer to Stirling, it becomes even clearer that he's not going to bend the knee. The guy looks like he's going to stand up to this thing. "C'mon dude!" Nico complains to herself as she continues to dodge misadventure on her broom ride through Metropolis. With another sigh, she begins chanting in Latin. That's never good.

    "Vigor, anima, cor accende,
    Vis invicta per omnia extendit,
    Mente firmum, corpore robustum,
    Vires maiores, non vincuntur.
    Fortitudo, adesse, suum serva,
    In te imperium, maiorem effer..."

Nico comes in for a landing, pulsing down to a sudden stop behind Stirling just in time for the last word of her chant.

"Fiat!" Nico shouts, extending her broom-clutching fist in Stirling's direction so her spell can infuse his punch with magical strength!

Hal Jordan has posed:
In the moment, it is rather easy to get fixated on the Queen hovering above the city, on the changes that she has wrought on those below, on the proud city of Metropolis itself. So it is easy to overlook the fact that the Queen has not arrived on her own. That she has not 'invaded' this reality without help.

In that chamber beneath the city itself those cloaked figures stand in that dimly lit room, stand in front of a raised basin of water that provides much of the light present while leaving the occupants shrouded in the shadows as they watch the image of whaat plays out above in that gleaming pool.

"This is working out even better then I imagined," comes the sultry, purring voice, the light briefly illuminating familiar features, a shock of purple hair.

Will cold iron have an effect? Who's to say. But it is probably better to have it then not. If nothing else, the chunk of parking meter that Monet has managed to acquire is likely to make a pretty damn good club. When all else fails with these sorts of threats, hit them until they stop moving, right?

The Queen, meanwhile, seems to hover in place, right over the heart of the city, watching her magically induced changes lkash out, take effect with a serene smile. She watches as her dutiful knights make their presence known to her newest subjects with a certain undeniable satisfaction though her brow furrows as one of those same locals suddenly calls out at her from below.

A flicker of irritation spreads over the woman's features. A commoner? Dares to address her? The magnificient Queen of Fables. Her brow furrows, the golden scepter in her hand raises as if intending to rain down consequences upon Lois. But then she seems to pause.

"...an interview?"

Color the Queen intrigued. Or maybe, like so many villains, she just can't resist the temptation to talk about herself.

If nothing else Pathfinder has bought precious moments for the citizens that were being menaced to melt away, slipping away from the pending confrontation. That alone is worth something. The knight on his horse does not react to the man his comments about Freddie Mercury and instead slices that sword down towards the man that darts in.

But Stirling does manage to narrowly avoid the blow, does manage to strike him hard in the side. He is still armored though, right? It might indeed knock him off balance, but nothing more then that, right?

Except whether he knows it or not, he has a helping hand on it's way. The murmured incantation from Sister Grimm finishes just as Stirling connects with that punch and instead of tipping him astride, that magically enhanded blow sends the knight flying a good fifteen feet back to land sprawled by the edge of the park, staring up at the storm-shrouded sky. Unmoving. Of course the horse still rears, those flaming hooves lashing out dangerously close to Pathfinder's head. But one threat at a time.

Magic versus magic. It's a good fit, right? But like sometimes attracts like and from that dark and ominous wood nearby and innocuous figure appears. Steel grey hair, a knited shawl dangled around her for warmth, the elderly woman in glasses fastens an eagle-eyed stare on Nico. "Well, well," she murmurs. "Isn't that interesting.

While Supergirl contends with her date gone oh so wrong, throughout the streets of the city, other people who scamper find themselves changed. A trio of men scrambling for the questionable safety of an electronics store suddenly find themselves instead squealing and racing around as they become a trio of pigs. A streat over a stray dog goes from rooting through a garbage can to swelling to a beast larger then the cars that were parked along the side of the street, it's wolfish muzzle twisting in a snarl as it turns hungry eyes towards citizens still evacuating. %

Hal Jordan has posed:
Meanwhile Star Sapphire and Dreamer go after big game. Those chains lash out, binding the flying creature, dragging it down closer towards Nia and the street below. But just as the chains potentially save Carol, as the dragon's maw parts, as flame threatens to consume the street below, that violet whip coils around that snout, binding it closed as those purple thorns bury into scales, provoking a muffled cry of rage from the dragon. Of course, that seems to attract the attention of other flying menaces, and in short order there seems to be an armed flight of... butterflies... swarming towards Carol and Nia.

As for Hal, splitting from Carol he charges down a side street towards a pack of those same knights, his construct-horse thundering against the pavement underfoot. His foes wheel, turn to face him, lowering lances to meet him in turn as they race ttowards one another.

But apparently Hal isn't fully versed in chivarly because as they near, his own lance suddenly triples in size and branches out in several directions. That emerald weapon strikes home, unhorsing all three of the black knights as his glowing green charger tramples them underfoot.

And Hal? He lets out a loud 'whoop'!

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet is at least being ignored for now. She isn't under immediate threat, nor does she particularly care about the state of parley that might be about from the Queen of Fables and her seeming willingness to accept an interview. The others on the ground can handle things as.. She turns down, and sees Kara. Her teeth clench hard over at noticing the Kryptonian, and she almost automatically snaps her attention away before noticing further, quickly burying things. Not now.

With the end of the stick sharpened as much as she an without getting a power saw, Monet goes to fly through the air. Attention will be onthe chaos on the ground, said Queen is distracted preening on her own self-excellence.. And that means that hopefully her guardians are paying attention to things passively as they monitor the battle. Monet goes to loop up and over, heading in a general direction behind the Queen, using the buildings for partial cover to conceal line of sight.. The fae probably doesn't have an energy shield or early warning about her if something stands out.. She's not the type to have a danger sense, she can reforge reality rather than get her hands dirty.

So, Monet goes to fly up and out of sight to approach from the blind spot.. And then she goes to take said improvised spear and hurls it from about three hundred meters away. Monet can lift roughly ten to fifteen tons on a good day. The metal spear she goes to throw with all of this power. The (hopefully mostly) close to pure iron alloy is launched at the imddle of the Queen's back with -just- enough spacing to not put Lois in the way if the shot misses, and all Monet can do is hope that such a vulnerability is actually a fact and that it actually will do more than simply annoy the adversary, who wil lthen turn her into something best served for when Ollie fought Circe.

Lois Lane has posed:
When the Queen of Fables raises her scepter, Lois braces. She's seen her fair share of moments like this, the flicker of power, the hint of hesitation. She could just be threatening. She could be readying to turn Lois into a frog that needs love's first kiss to turn back. It's a gamble, sure, but that's part of the job.

"Yes, an interview," Lois repeats, her voice unwavering. She steps forward, raising her streaming recorder. The pulse of violet energy around them shifts in rhythm, but she stays steady, locking eyes with the hovering monarch. "You've got everyone's attention. Mine, the others here, and my million plus subcribers and watchers from around the world. You're reshaping the city, rewriting the rules. But people don't just follow because you say so, they need to understand why."

Her gaze sharpens, her tone firm but respectful. "You're telling a story. Every ruler has one. So what's yours? Why Metropolis? Why now? What do you want people to know about their 'magnificent Queen of Fables'? What is your 'Once Upon a Time'?"

Lois gestures around them briefly, taking in the chaos. "Right now, all they see is destruction and fear. But maybe you want them to see something more. Let me help you show them."

The scepter remains raised, the Queen's expression unreadable, her power tangible in the air. But Lois stands her ground, recorder in hand, eyes steady. If the Queen is a storyteller, Lois knows how to play to that. Every story needs an audience and every audience deserves the truth.

Stirling Winchester has posed:
Holy crap! Stirling has thrown people pretty far before, but the way he sent that knight flying? That's something else! The vigilante remembers hearing a voice saying something he couldn't catch and turns to look at Sister Grimm. He gives her an upnod, "That was you? Thanks! I'm Pathfinder and my great grandfather wants me to take out that hellhound thing next." When he points at what used to be a dog with a knife hand he moves to scoop the defeated knight's sword off the ground with his other hand.

And then he's off towards the monstrous canine, letting out a long, loud whistle, "Hey poochie! Bad dog! Heel! Sit!" Worth a shot and easier than trying to swordfight it. Still, he stands ready to react to anything the animal might try to do, sword in hand.

Kara Danvers has posed:
Supergirl twists when that blur of Nico Minoru whirrs past, her eyes remaining fixed on the ogre with the now-shattered club in his hand. He turns to look at it, and in doing so, the light of the city strikes the face of his watch and reflects up and into his eye. For a moment, maybe -- just maybe -- he remembers the conversation. The laughter. His date. The silly little thoughts in his head. The kind of thoughts that run away with you, on a first date. When they're going really, really well.

'God, I like her.

'I wonder what our kids would look like?'

'Oh my god don't be weird dude.'

Thoughts bubble and broil to the surface, popping like champagne against the inside of his skull. And then, they are gone. Replaced with... confusion, which lapses easily to anger. He roars, and charges forward, only to fall into a slump at a sudden, and yet strangely gentle, impact to his stomach. Air pushes from lungs, past lips, and into the night sky, and he collapses in a heap at Supergirl's feet.

"...I'm sorry," she murmurs down to him, making sure that his breathing is still slow and steady. "You really are a funny guy," she adds.

And then she's up, ripping through the air with a thunder-clap as she seems to appear out of thin air beside Niko and Stirling, eyes scanning the sky for the source of the voice. The Queen of the Hour.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Star Sapphire hovers next to Nia as the dragon struggles in the chains binding its snout, the thorns of her whip digging into its shimmering scales. Smoke rises from the beast's nostrils, and for a moment, she dares to think they have the upper hand -- until she catches the glint of something approaching fast.

"Look out!" she calls, her voice cutting sharply through the chaos. Her free hand snaps forward, pointing toward the swarm of butterflies flooding the air. Their wings shimmer like stained glass, beautiful but brimming with menace as they dart toward the two heroes with unnerving coordination.

Sensing the shift, Carol takes swift action. With a commanding gesture, she urges her violet eagle downward. The majestic construct dips sharply, its massive wings brushing against the smoke-filled air before leveling out just above the rooftops. Carol rises from its back, her energy flowing in time with her intentions as she points toward the dragon thrashing in their hold.

"Fly!" she orders, her voice resolute. The eagle lets out a piercing cry before streaking upward toward the enormous beast, claws extended to clash with its scaled foe.

The dragon and eagle meet in a violent collision of teeth, talons, and snarls, their struggle drawing fiery sparks that rain over the streets below. Carol doesn't wait to see the outcome. The violet whip in her hands dissolves, its thorns and roses unraveling into wisps of glowing energy. In an instant, the power reforms, reshaping itself into a gleaming bow in her grasp. Turning sharply to her left, she pivots mid-air, drawing the bowstring with smooth precision.

"I'll cover left!"

She backs towards Nia, ensuring that they can cover both sides at once, her eyes locking on the incoming swarm. Their movement is erratic yet purposeful, a chaotic flurry of glittering wings that descend like a cloud of living blades. Star Sapphire exhales steadily, focusing as her energy arrows manifest, glowing bright against the darkened sky. With practiced ease, she releases the first shot, then another, each arrow streaking upward in a brilliant cascade of violet light.

Nia Nal has posed:
    Nia, for her credit, just acts. There's no time to think, no time to talk, just, act. She takes steps to be right next to Star Sapphire and leans forward bring her hands up.

    Blue energy of the dreaming crackles through out her hands and dances around her nails and body. Her eyes flash pure blue as energy crackles and dances from them. Her hair lifts up as more energy dances between strands.

    She looks up at the Butterflies and then in one single movement, she screams and all that blue energy lashes out. Dozens of blue bolts of "lightning" smash in to the butterflies en masse. Nia, stands there, mouth wide, body tense, screaming at the top of her lungs as the bolts crackle and snap and strike.

Nico Minoru has posed:
Nico holds her broom in one hand and watches as Stirling's punch sends the knight soaring. She nods her head knowingly, satisfied with herself for the moment, but the moment ends when Stirling turns around and launches into an introduction. She raises her eyebrows a little -- a natural response to his enthusiasm -- and opens her mouth to say her name, but what will it be? He's kinda cute, she decides, and maybe she'd just tell him her name is Nico. But, then the business about his great grandfather telling him what to do changes her mind.

"Oh, uh, Sister Grimm," she replies. "But, maybe you should wait and----"

Too late. Pathfinder is charging at the next unspeakable danger.

"C'mon dude...!" Nico complains in a little huff. She lets him go learn a lesson if he has to. When Supergirl appears out of nowhere, Nico seems relieved. "Oh, good, you got this?" she questions, treating her like a co-worker who showed up late for her shift. Nevermind the fact that they don't know each other and don't work together. Still, this is Metropolis and everyone knows the people with the giant S's on their clothes handle things here.

Nico turns to face the kindly(?) old woman staring her down and puts her hand on her hip, idly smoothing out the material on her skirt. If fairytales are to be believed, old women emerging from the scraggly woods are never good, right?

"Yeah?" she calls out from where she's standing. "What's interesting?"

Hal Jordan has posed:
The last time that Hal Jordan came face to face with the Queen of Fables, he was on a tour of the dimensions, seeking to find and rescue Dr. Fate along with other Leaguers and allies of the League. To bring reinforcements to face down Felix Faust.

They were aided by Victor von Doom of all people, who provided the magical rituals to breach the dimensional barriers. True, Doom ultimately ws attempting to use the League to his own ends, but the fact remains that without his assistance they might never have succeeded.

But it occurs to Hal that his little jaunt to the realm of the Queen of Fables resulted in a few other things. Prizes that helped compensate them for the fact that their technology simply did not work in the Queen's realm. Including his ring. The Green Lantern power ring might seem like magic, able to conjure up anything that it's bearer can imagine. But it is not. And having been denied it's use, Hal had to turn to other tools. Other weapons.

"Ugh, how could I have forgotten," the Green Lantern suddenly exclaims, whirling, his armor and horse fading away. Then it iss his turn to wheel, that armor, that horse fading away. And Hal Jordan? He streaks away from the field of battle, seemingly leaving the others to their fate as he shimmers right through the walls of the Hall of Justice and disappears.

You got this. Green Lanterns are overrrated.

Fairy tales are a strange thing. In so many of them, they are filled with grim -- or is it Grimm? -- lessons that their protagonists simply cannot escape. In others, it almost seems like nothing truly bad can happen to the protagonist, no matter how vulnerable they seem.

Guess which role is played by the Queen and which is played by her 'subjects'?

Monet's gambit is good. Her care and planning seems to pay off, she positions herself out of sight and lets that improvised spear fly, straight and true right towards the Queen.

Then, a passing bird suddenly swells, expands into some giant, hideous creature and the parking meter turned projectile imbeds in it, drawing anunearthyly squeal of pain as the flying monster plummets to the ground.

Suddenly, the ground near Monet shakes, the nearby buildings literally swaying and from out behind one of those skyskrappers a positively immense man steps out, baleful eyes almost level with M despite how high she is in the air. "Fee Fie Foe Fum," says an immensely loud, immensely deep bass voice. And windows from nearby buildings that have not yet transformed into something else simply shatter, a rain of glass shards falling on the surrounding streets.

If the Queen is aware of just how close she just came to being skewered. If she is bothered by the glass shards that fall around her, she gives no sign -- possibly because as they get close to her those reality-altering pulses change them into a rain of frgrant flower petals instead.

She is even intrigued enough by Lois that the glass shards that might menace her do the same. Surprise, surprise, apparently the Queen likes the idea of telling her story.

"Mmmm, you raise interesting possibilities. For a commoner," the Queen intones. "Perhaps others should know more of my tale. Perhaps they should know more of those that have brought me to this, your world." Then she smiles a cheshire-like grin. "Now my world of course."

And so ends the tale of Kara's lunch date out. Though not entirely without a hopeful ending. As the ogre falls, knocked over, knocked out by the Girl of Steel, a transformation seems to wash over the beast, a bright glow enveloping him before fading away, leaving the blonde's date curled up on the sidewalk, slumbering. There's hope yet that the Queen's enchantment can be broken it seems.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Dreamer and Sapphire seem to make a good team. Hey, their colors are even close, that blue and pruple energy crackling around them.

The dragon, thwarted temporarily is left bound, struggling against those chains that bind him, that thorned cord of violet that seals his mouth shut and leaves ominous puffs of smoke curling up from it's nose For the moment those bonds hold. For now.

But Nia and Carol have other things to worry about as those beautiful, glittering butterflies swoop in, those wings fluitering all around them. But as Carol notes, as pretty as they might appear, each of the butterflies does appear to be made out of stained glass. A myriad of colors shine from them with each crash of that purple lightning overhead, an almost dazzling pattern of rainbow patterns that can catch, can capture the eye.

All so those razor sharp wings can slice up their victims to absolute shreads.

Arrows of violet and lightning of blue lash out at those fluttering glass insects as the violet eagle and dragon battle and while little shards of stained glass litter the ground all around them, some of those buterflies sweep towards the bonds that bind the dragon, those sharp little wings shockingly slicing through chains, weaking their girp link by link.

It is a question as to how long Pathfinder's enhanced strength will last, but while he's got it he might as well use it right? Whether trying to use it on a giant wolf with fangs about as long as Stirling's entire arm is another matter and that low, threatening growl sounds, the giant dire wolf appearing even larger as that deadly maw snaps at the man, it's breath positively reeking as it washes over the man.

And Nico? While everyone else faces down mosnters of all sorts, she gets the elderly woman in her shawl, tottering over with cane in hand. "Why you are dearie. You positively reek of power and potential and I do so appreciate both," she says with a smile that seems to shift from kindly to predatory with disturbing ease.

From seemingly nowhere she suddenly produces a sweet treat, holding it out towards the goth girl. "Care for a cookie?"

Stirling Winchester has posed:
"Whoa!" Stirling finds himself whipping around and into a ready position when Supergirl suddenly appears beside him! When he realizes who it is he lowers the weapon, "Hey! Don't let me get in your way, I'm buying time for folks evacuating while you big guns do your thing."

His attention swings back over to the monstrous canine and he nods a bit, "Nom nom, you literal son of a bitch!" That's when he pulls what is definitely a hand grenade from his belt, rip the pin out of it and attempts to toss it down the hellhound's throat before hauling ass to get away from it's teeth and the shrapnel that will soon be exploding out of the creature, if things go according to his plan.

With that knight's sword still in his hand he prepares himself to engage the monster should the grenade not do the trick.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Her attack, unfortunately, does not land the way she wanted. Monet mutters. <<Target has some sort of infinity improbability generator field around them. Direct attack without way to maintain reality and logic is unlikely to succeed.>> That's sent along the telepathic linkup right over as things go to turn to more, more chaos. Monet goes to wince as her opponent is then turned over into a giant.. Giant.

She goes to hover in midair, caught by surprise as the giant goes to grab at her as it pronounces 'FEE FAIE FOE FUM' and spits at her with gnashing, horrible teeth. Monet goes to struggle.. And goes to hit over on the large finger holding her, moving ot snap her hands forwards to twist it at a brutal angle, breaking it and flying away. Another swat impacts her and sends her flying, impacting hard onto a building. How the hell can she take on something of that size and scale without help? The others are dealing with enough chaos as it is.. She tries to think of things that might be effective here to use to slow such a thing..

And the sheer smell of the giant, like a cyclops, the breath, the gunk dripping down her, the slobber.. How can she -stop- such a thing?

She braces, going to fly and circle around it at high speed, looking for an opening, seeing none and only as the loincloth would rise up and.. Wait, loincloth. Monet pauses in her quick circling, moving to whimper. She has an idea now. But can she possibly hate herself enough to do it?

The giant swings again, taking a chunk out of a nearby building.

Yes, yes she can.

She goes to fly along underneath the giant monster, gonig to about ankle height, looking upwards and letting out a sob. The stench.. The stench.. The gunk dropping.. And she flies straight upwards. Like a missile. Hands in front of her. Going mach three. Vanishing where the loincloth dangles downwards. Ten tons of strength going upwards in a smash. The giant mocks her, laughs at her, and then...

NUHKRACK!

That sound echos over the battlefield as in sheer desperation then Monet flies away from the loincloth as the giant lets out a loud, ear-splitting scream like a siren. If there was any glass left in the area, it would be breaking. The giant takes a brutal fall, landing on the ground, hands grasped in a protective position while it was curled fetal.

Monet neutralized it. But can she live with the cost?

Carol Ferris has posed:
Star Sapphire grits her teeth as another wave of the glass-winged butterflies dives toward her and Nia, their shimmering wings cutting through the air with deadly precision. Her arrows shatter a few, sending glittering shards of stained glass tumbling to the ground, but it feels like bailing water from a sinking ship. For every butterfly she hits, more swarm in their place, their razor-sharp wings slicing dangerously close to the dragon's bindings. She takes a sharp breath, frustration flashing in her violet-tinged eyes.

From the corner of her vision, she spots Nia, standing firm amid the chaos, her blue lightning lancing out in crackling streaks that obliterate clusters of butterflies in a single strike. Carol's eyes narrow with determination. Why waste energy picking them off one by one when there's a bigger threat to handle?

"Enough of this," she mutters, her voice edged with resolve.

Lifting her free hand, she summons a violet bubble around herself. The energy thrums, forming a translucent shield that flares brightly as the butterflies crash against it, their wings fracturing harmlessly on impact. Within the protective cocoon, she focuses on the dragon still writhing against the chains and thorns holding its maw shut.

Violet light gathers around her outstretched hand, condensing into a single, sharp beam that lances out toward the dragon. The energy crackles along its scales, spreading across its body like creeping frost. Jagged crystals begin to form where the beam strikes, their edges sharp and glimmering. The dragon roars in protest, its thrashing slowing as the crystal growth spreads, encasing its limbs and wings until they can barely move.

The jagged crystals now cover the dragon's body, rendering it nearly immobile. Carol drops the bubble, energy surging around her as she flies forward. A construct begins to form in her hand -- a sword, elegant yet lethal, its edge glowing faintly with violet light. She grips the hilt tightly as she closes the distance, her determination cutting through the storm of chaos around her.

Raising the sword high, she swings it down toward the dragon's neck in a precise, arcing motion. The blade glints in the dim light as it descends, a decisive strike aimed at breaking the Queen's monstrous creation once and for all.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois stands amidst the surreal rain of petals, her expression terse as the Queen's cheshire-like grin spreads across her face. The transformed glass shards swirl around them, the air thick with the Queen's undeniable presence. Lois keeps her recorder in hand, lowering it slightly but maintaining her readiness. She meets the Queen's gaze, her posture firm, the hint of a challenge woven into her stance.

She tilts her head slightly, her tone measured and composed as she speaks. "Your world, is it? That's quite the declaration," she says, her voice carrying just enough weight to hold the Queen's attention. She gestures lightly to the reshaped surroundings, her movements deliberate, avoiding any suddenness that might provoke a reaction.

"You say others brought you here. Who are they? What did they do to bring about all of this?" Lois asks, her words probing, designed to draw the Queen into her story. She lets the question hang, the silence that follows purposeful, giving the Queen the space she clearly enjoys to command the narrative.

Lois's grip on the recorder tightens slightly, her stance unwavering. "Every ruler has a foundation, a story that defines them. If you're going to claim this city, this world. Don't you think your subjects deserve to know yours?" she continues, her voice steady, unwavering, with just the right edge to let the Queen know she isn't easily intimidated.

She ends with a nod of deference, the challenge in her gaze tempered with professionalism. "I'll make sure they listen," she says simply, letting her words hang in the charged air. "Your Majesty."

Nia Nal has posed:
    Panting and doing everything she can to catch her breath, Nia stands fully upright and draws in bag gasps of air. She looks up to where the Queen and Lois are, watching the dragon's broken corpse plummet. This, is just what she needed. She needs the distraction lois is giving, she needs the firm knoweldege that someone has her back. It helps, that she had been training to do this.

    Nia inhales, and desperate times call for desperate measures. There's no time to sit and plan, so, out of her body she walks. Leaving said body, to slump lifelessly to the ground. She's going to feel that later...

    To those watching from outside that are not telepaths, Nia ragdolls to the ground. To those that are? She floats up to the queen, places a hand on her forehead and glares, "You think you own Dreams? Welcome to my Nightmare." With that, Nia pulls the Queen in to a nightmare realm she creates on the fly.

Nico Minoru has posed:
"Lady, if I'm the most interesting thing you see right now, you need to get that prescription checked," Nico replies, watching the old woman with a healthy amount of suspicion. After all, she did just kind of appear out of nowhere and doesn't seem too disturbed by what's going on in the city right now. It's the cookie that really seals the deal for Nico. She takes a measured step backwards, as though a couple more feet could ever hope to make a difference in the kind of fight that might happen here.

"Fuck this," Nico announces to no one in particular, sounding more annoyed than anything else, and tosses her broom off to the side. She bends down and produces a small knife from her boot and closes her palm around the blade without even wincing. A trickle of blood drips from between her fingers and onto the pavement at her feet.

The Minoru women have long been the keepers of an ancient magic that's almost limitless in power. For the last few years, that duty has been young Nico's to bear. It's rarely obvious to her when a situation has degraded enough to warrant calling upon her horrifying birthright and today has been really riding the line. Eldrich knights on flaming horseback. Ogres with expensive watches. Hellbeasts that eat grenades. A literal giant.

And now there's an old lady offering loose cookies? That's the last straw.

As soon as the drop of blood hits the pavement, Nico bends backwards violently, arcing in an almost otherworldly pose, arms stiff at her sides as she's caught in a moment of pure magic. The air around her crackles with energy as crimson light begins to glow from her chest, coalescing into a swirling void of black and red. Her face contorts into an expression of familiar agony, mouth curled into a snarl and both eyes closed as tight as they go. Nico remains stuck in this pose, supported only by her own pain while she cries out silently and endures her family's tradition.

A large ring appears and slowly emerges from the swirling void in her chest, announced by a loud thunderclap that echoes across Metropolis. An unsettling voice, deeper than her normal one, seems to come from all around as Nico begins to speak.

"wHeN bLoOd iS sHeD... LeT tHe STAFF OF ONE eMeRgE!"

The ring continues forward, revealing itself as the top of a long staff, sleek and mysterious, eldritch in nature, that glints ominously as it breaks free from Nico's being. It hangs in the air, frozen for a moment, before Nico reaches up and plucks the staff from the air. The Staff of One, a magical artifact of almost unbounded power, now stands tall in Nico Minoru's grasp, ready for her to use it.

"Fix this city!" is the spell that comes out of Nico's mouth.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Has Hal finally succumbed to fear?

Not so much no. Instead, wrapped up in the energy of Will he phases right through the walls of the Hall of Justice, descending through the bulding to the secured vault at it's heart where they keep so many of the weapons and other prizes claimed during their various missions. And within, the Green Lantern immediately seeks out two in particular, dispalyed on their stands. His prizes from their last encounter with the Queen of Fables.

A cloak of blue and a gleaming sword. The Witching Cloak and the Vorpal Sword.

In an instant he is rising up once more, sweeping back out of the Hall, back out onto the field of battle, new weapons in hand to turn the tide. But he has barely emerged through the roof of the Hall when he finds himself under attack.

Sweeping out of the darkened sky is a giant eagle, not unlike Carol's. But unlike hers, all violet and made from the power of Love itself, this one is golden, shining with it's own inner radiance. A deep, brilliant, golden yellow.

Those talons strike at Hal, the yellow claws piercing right through the emerald protective aura that surrounds him. Strike him and digging in as he cries out in pain. And the precious bundle he carries? The magical artifacts he put to use so well the last time he faced the Queen and her ourt?

The Witching Cloak and the Vorpal Sword go flying into the air. Where they'll land, no one knows...

How does one bring down a giant? Something that big, towering more then fifty feet high. With a voice that can shattter glass and hamfisted hands that can smash whole corners of buildings?

Apparently the secret is just to be willing to go where no one has gone before.

If one of those blows from the massive man had hit Monet, it might have finally been over for her, but she manages to evade them, manages to streak up and find her target. The earth quite literally moves as the figure crashes to the ground, letting out and mournful wail of pain. Trees topple, buildings shake -- only the fact that most of the glass has already rained down preventing another deadly storm -- and then the giant too begins to shrink, to return to the unfortunate bystander he was before the Queen's magic twisted him into what she needed.

All in all, playing fetch with a god this big is probably not a great idea. Not when it very much looks like the giant wolf intends to not only take what Pathfinder has in his hand, but also take all of Pathfinder's arm and maybe a chunk of his torso with it. That low growl builds, the vibration from it practically enough to be felt in one's bones and it suddenly launches forward, jaws seeking out Stirling...

...and getting a moutful of grenade instead. It whirls, already about to pounce, it's speed, it's strength and reflexes far greater then any mere human, any mere world for that matter. But of course that's when the grenade explodes.

It's probably good that the creature is enchanted. Good that anyone standing nearby isn't abruptly coated in a blanket of gore and viscera. Instead a strange look lights in the giant wof's eyes and it keels over, it too beginning to shrink, to morph back into the unfortunate stray that it was before the Queen's magic took hold.

Honestly, if Hal wasn't impaled on talons of gold right now he would probably be insanely jealous. He's always wanted to slay a dragon.

Instead it is girlfriend who is going to get the honor. Surrounded by a shield of violet energy, with razor sharp stained glass butterflies dive dombing her, trying vainly to pierce her shield, Carol does battle with the dragon. She lashes out, purple energy washing over the dragon, those crystals covering it's body before that sword manifests in her hand. While it might seem too small to be of use against such a creature, there are not many blades powered quite literally by love. The violet blade strikes home, slicing right through the creatures neck and all those violet crystals covering it's body shatter at once, taking the dragon along with them.

Hal Jordan has posed:
It would appear that Lois' pointed questions are making a few people nervous. Especially since it seems like the Queen of Fables is very much inclined to go along with the reporter's careful prompting -- some might say baiting -- and spill the entire story. Indeed, the Queen seems to be on the verge of doing just that when the five hooded figures abruptly errupt from the ground nearby in a shower of cobblestones and earth, floating up into the air only a short distance away. One of them, that hint of purple hair tumbling forward out of the hood of her cloak as she raises a hand to gesture towards the intrepid reporter. "You're not my usual preferred prey, but I'll make an exception in this case," she says, that gesturing hand beginning to crackle with power.

For a moment things look grim for Lois, her reporters career looking like it will finally come to an end. Will Superman sweep out of the sky to save her as he has so many times before?

Not this time. This time it is Dreamer to the rescue. While she might suddenly slump to the ground, her astral self is very much still active, confronting the Queen of Fables.

Like Dreamer, the Queen abruptly slumps, her secrets unspilled, but as she plunges into the conjured up nightmare Nia has assembled, one last reality-altering pulse flares forth. So that when that crackling power launches itself at Lois it just narrowly misses, hitting the ground beside her. Where a pig suddenly appears, looking startled and squealing.

Hmmmm, who has the League faced that likes turning people into pigs as of late?

Over by the park, the temptation of Nico Minor isn't going so well and the elderly woman's eyes narrow slightly, anger in them. "That isn't very polite child. I could teach you much, but I have little use for insolent little girls," the elderly woman says with her clipped german tone. Skeletal fingers seem to raise, long and delicate and still appearing surprisingly nimble.

But before the shawled woman can do whatever she intends, Nico cuts herself.

The effects are immediate and obvious as that staff seems to spring from her and the elderly woman's eyes gleam covetously, greedy hands reching for that staff, as if it is something that can simply be claimed.

Instead, Nico grips the Staff of One, her family's heritage. She speaks those words. And an answering wave of power explodes outward, washing over the city around them. It strikes the elderly woman first and she begins to melt away as if she was never there, a screaming 'Nooooooo' slowly fading out.

Then the Staff of One's power continues to radiate outward over Metropolis, changing cobblestones back to pavement, trellis' back to street lights, the huge crown atop the Daily Planet back to it's more familiar globe.

The rush of magic has one other effect. It blows back the hoods of the five figures tanding there at the heart of all this, their identities revealed at last. Tala the Sorceress. The golden masked Morgan LeFaye. Felix Faust, recently returned mage. The enigmatic sorcerer from the future, Abra-Kadabra. And there in the center, hand still raised towards Lois who has escaped her wrath; Circe.

THe Injustice League's magical contingent.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet is not really sure of what's going on as she's covered in endless -gunk- from the giant, even as more light flashes and the power of the Staff of One is unleashed, relaity transforming back to what it was. Wait, someone with that powerful magic is on /their side/? That's.. A good thing, right? Not a completely terrifying one that such powers can be brought to bear. Best not to ask too much.

Her eyes widen once more as she looks about to see the familiar group of dark sorcerors and goes to ball up her fists. Lovely, lovely. She's holding back from taunting them now, exhausted and not wanting to instigate more of a melee. But she does have to give them credit as she wearily goes upright.

THey really are dedicated to their ventures.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois doesn't miss a beat. Her instincts sharpen as the hooded figures erupt from the ground, her gaze snapping to the one with the purple hair and crackling power. Her mind works fast to assess, adapt, act. She steps forward, just enough to put herself between the Queen and the new threat, raising her hand with the recorder still in it, as if to steady the moment.

"Really? You're going to interrupt an exclusive?" Lois says, her voice carrying an edge of dry incredulity. Her eyes narrow as she locks onto the woman. "Guess I should feel flattered, but do you really think taking me out is going to stop the story from being told?"

She was about to say something more when suddenly the Queen of Fables slumps over and the figures reveal who they are. And as they do, Lois suddenly realizes she lost her Ace-in-the-hole that could have kept her safe.

As Lois's words hang in the air, the tension crackles like the violet lightning above. The hooded figure with the tumbling purple hair tilts her head, a sharp smirk curling her lips. Her hand lifts higher, the crackling energy gathering and focusing into a swirling orb of dark magic.

"You talk too much," Cersei sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. "Let's see if you're as clever on four legs. And if your squeal as shrill as your voice."

Before Lois can react, the magic surges forward, a pulse of shimmering energy enveloping her. It hits like a wave, disorienting and overwhelming. Her body contorts, her voice cuts off mid-sentence, and a strange squeal replaces her words. In seconds, Lois's form shifts, her features disappearing into that of a small, pink pig, still in a grey skirt and purple blazer.

The world suddenly feels impossibly large. The cobblestones beneath her hooves are rough and unfamiliar, and the scent of magic lingers in the air. She blinks her new, beady eyes, trying to process what just happened. A low, indignant squeal escapes her, a sound of defiance and outrage.

Cersei laughs, the sound cold and triumphant. "Much better," she says, lowering her hand.

Lois, now a pig, trots a few steps forward, her squeals carrying all the fury of a reporter who refuses to be silenced, even in this form. Somewhere, deep in her transformed mind, she's already plotting how to turn this into a story-once she's back to being herself.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Star Sapphire hovers amidst the fading glow of violet crystals, her sword still poised as the dragon's head tumbles away, dissolving into glittering shards. The dragon's body crumbles entirely, and with its destruction, the crystals formed on it explode outwards, taking remaining butterflies in bursts of rainbow-colored light. For a moment, Carol allows herself to feel the rush of satisfaction. The beast is vanquished, and the skies clear of its thrashing chaos. She exhales, the weight of victory a small reprieve in the storm of magic and madness around her.

But the calm is fleeting. As her eyes sweep the battlefield, a figure on the ground catches her attention -- a motionless Dreamer, crumpled and vulnerable amidst the debris. Her heart seizes, and the scene sharpens around her. Nia, completely exposed, is surrounded by danger from every direction. Carol doesn't hesitate.

She pivots in midair, her eagle construct still absent, and streaks toward the fallen Dreamer. Her arms stretch forward, a protective violet glow coalescing into a smooth, glimmering bubble that envelops Nia's unconscious form. The bubble floats up as Carol swoops low, carrying Nia effortlessly in her wake. She slows only for a moment to glance at her friend within the construct, ensuring the blue energy protecting her astral self remains intact. With her passenger secure, Star Sapphire rises back into the chaos, hovering just above the battlefield.

Her reprieve is interrupted by Hal's cry of pain, sharp and sudden as it cuts through the air. She whirls to see him under attack, his green aura pierced by the talons of a radiant golden eagle.

"Hold on!" Carol shouts, her tone as much command as reassurance. She sends Nia's protective bubble to hover beside her, and with her free hand, she channels violet energy, a brilliant beam streaking toward the golden eagle -- a wide beam focused as much on dissuading the beast from further attack as trying to harm it. All she needs is for it to loosen its grip on Hal, for him to have a chance to get free so that she can help him get to safety -- maybe take Nia's unconscious form with him into the Hall of Justice.

"Get free!" Carol calls, violet energy crackling around her.

She surges forward, that violet aura flaring as she prepares her defenses, violet light already forming again into a new form -- a griffin that charges forward on four legs and cries out with its eagle head in challenge, wings spreading. A defender. A deterrent.

At least until they can be safe.

Nico Minoru has posed:
"Oh good," Nico comments once it's all done, looking around to find that her spell worked as she had intended and the city is, indeed, fixed. "I was worried it was going to be pelicans again."

Because that's happened before.

Nico taps the bottom of the Staff of One against the pavement a couple of times and sighs. It's always so straightforward to pull it out, but getting it to go back inside is a whole other affair. She just has to hang onto it until it decides it's tired. With another sigh, Nico begins walking away from the park, unsure of what direction to travel in. It's a big city and she's largely ignorant of the continued troubles, pig-related and otherwise, so the day is saved as far as she's concerned.

"I'm kinda hungry," Nico mutters to herself as she walks. "I kinda wish I took that cookie." She hesitates a beat, glances at the Staff of One, and smiles mischievously.

"Chicken Caesar Wrap!" she says, using the Staff of One to bring one into the world, neatly wrapped in wax paper and tucked in a plain white bag clutched in Nico's other hand. It's better to fly on a full stomach.

Nia Nal has posed:
    Nia normally, has no control over the dream. Let alone the drems of others, but she's been practicing and for everything there is a first time. So, in to the dream she takes the queen, but not a dream of the queens, no, a dream world of nightmares and pain. All the pain Nia has ever felt and suffered at the hands of bigots and monsters alike. In t his place, the queen is stuck in a never ending hallway full of doors leading to other times and places in Nia's life.

    Thankfully for her, she had others around to make sure she's okay. So, when she wakes up, she'll wake up safe.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Of course Star Spphires intervention keeps those golden claws from digging even more deeply into Hal's and he falls from the bird's grasp, clutching his side, bringing his own ring back up, ready to do what he can to fend off the creature.

Fortunately there is no need.

Nico's power continues to reach outward, slowly shifting much of the damage done to Metropolis back to normal. In short order the city almost looks like it did, though some damage remains.

That power also reaches out to return to restore those people transformed. To wipe away the giant golden eagle attacking Hal. To restore the three little pigs into the three slovenly guys they were.

At least to restore those changed by the Queen's power. It does not, it seem, fix the one woman who has the misfortune to be transformed by a certain purple-haired sorceress and with almost anyone who might be able to do something about Lois Lane's transformation into a scampering, wiggling porcine, she instead disappears into the city.

Does Circe smile with a certain satisfaction? Perhaps. But it is fleeting at best. Especially with their good work undone. So the Queen's unconscious form is snatched up and the five sorcerous figures briefly glance towards the source of the powerthat has undone their scheme.

Tala and Faust look envious. Abra Kadabra just looks insane. Morgan LeFaye's expression is unreadable behind that mask. And Circe? She looks... speculative.

Nico might have just brought unwanted attention down on herself.

There will still be things to clean up. They will still need to find Lois. Hal will need to recover his magical artifacts that were not needed today, but surely will be in the future.

But for now a portal opens up, hanging there above Metropolis. Then the fivesome of sorcerous threats -- bearing the sixth in the Queen of Fables -- disappears.