5213/When Justice Attacks

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When Justice Attacks
Date of Scene: 16 February 2021
Location: New York County Courthouse -- NYC
Synopsis: Felix Faust makes a play, stealing away Professor Amos Fortune right under the Justice League's nose. And what the hell is Bruce going to tell Barbara about what he did with her ward?
Cast of Characters: Bruce Wayne, Karen Starr, Zatanna Zatara, Clark Kent, Cassandra Cain, Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe

Bruce Wayne has posed:
As a general rule Gotham's Dark Knight does not make a lot of appearances during the day light hours if he can help it. He has made the night his ally in his war on crime. The light of day can't help diminish a little of the mystique. But sometimes there really is no alternative, and in this particular case he is not in Gotham regardless.

Instead Batman finds himself back in New York City, at the County Courthouse, down towards the southern end of Manhatten. It's not as if Gotham doesn't have plenty of intriguing trials to keep tabs on of course. But this particular one happens to involve one of the Justice League's recently defeated villains -- Professor Amos Fortune. And while the self-styled professor has been passive, verging on non-responsive, even catatonic since his humiliating defeat at the Mtropolitan Museum of Art, he still has powerful magic at his disposal. That will make him a threat, even incarcerated. If he can be incarcerated at all.

While he alerted the rest of the League to his intentions to monitor these opening hearings, he did not necessarily take it for granted that others would be able to make themselves available. They all have responsibilities -- pressing ones at times. So he brought along a little help of his own in the form of Orphan. "Keep your eyes peeled for trouble," he says softly over the comm, once again tapped into the building's security system so he can monitor things from a discrete distance away.

Thus far the hearing has gone exactly as expected. A lot of legal arguments over whether Professor Fortune can expect a fair deal in this location and whether he should not be charged in one of the other jurisdictions where the Royal Flush Gang made their presence known. Everyday stuff for a courtroom in any big city -- aside from the unusual defendant. But that's about to change...

It's nothing that the Dark Knight can see on his monitors, or read on the scanners he has set up around the building. Nothing that can be measured by him, at least not yet. But within the courtroom itself there is a surge of... power. It starts small, at first, localized to the rearmost benches of the observation gallery. But it swiftly grows, expanding out beyond the confines of that one room, swiftly enveloping the building as a whole. And in that back row and apparently innocuous reporter smiles a malevolent grin, the pencil in his hand practically dancing in his fingers, waving in the air as if conducting an orchastra instead of taking notes...

Karen Starr has posed:
    It isn't often that Power Girl chooses to be in attendance at these sorts of things. However, oddly enough- and perhaps a little out of perceived character for her- she doesn't seem interested in letting Batman go alone. Why exactly that is is a mystery- likely even to Batman himself- but she's here nonetheless.

    Of course, she hasn't toned down anything about herself, and definitely isn't showing up in a suit and tie. Idly, she stands off to the side of the courtroom, arms folded. Her mood seems soured, as if something in this particular early trial has already set her off, but she's keeping a lid on it.

    Likely, it has something to do with the citation clutched between a pair of her gloved fingers. Sure, she has no legal name as far as the courts are concerned, but eventually someone was going to try and fine her for, well, the everything about her.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Lately it feels New York City calls Zatanna more often than Gotham has. Time to correct that lies in the days ahead, nothing to be done for it now. Instead, putting the 'justice' in Justice League means a proper appearance at court in a variation on her stylishly tailored stage appearance. The coat and button-down shirt already cut a presence but those fishnets need a proper skirt to avoid being tossed out on her ear. The Dark Knight boasts his mystique by moonlight, whereas she basks in any light to be found at all.

Cue Ms. Zatara on the record, credentials presented to affirm her identity and whisked through the metal detector. Almost a tease, that. Anything she might carry that raises eyebrows could be conjured from a hat or a flick of the wrist. Lawyers, judge, and jury among others ought to have no reason to doubt the magician's behaviour. She gives them no cause for complaint. Sitting attentively while listening to the debate meander around precedents and codicils could check just about anyone's patience. The subject matter is actually quite fascinating.

Everyday stuff for a courtroom wanders on while she takes a few notes with a plain black pen on a yellow legal pad, as civil court tolerates such things. The looping swirl cleanly captures a few relevant arguments. Maybe there's an incomplete and complex circle doodled in there, just waiting the double-barred Z to complete it for no -good- reason. But that's why she is here, nodding occasionally or looking polite: backup. Right?

Clark Kent has posed:
Mild Mannered reporter Clark Kent has an easy enough excuse to be here; the Planet covers international news as well as local stuff, after all, and the trial of a super-villain is always news, even in this cynical age. So Clark is sitting in the press pit, taking a few pictures and a few notes in shorthand. Clark's wanted an excuse to chew the fat with Bruce lately, but things have gone completly bananas between work and Kara's crusade to the stars. Maybe they'll get an hour after the trial.

And then everything starts feeling weird. Clark's eyes hurt; he's sensed sensitive, fluxuating energies before, but has difficulty identifying them immediately, which puts him on his guard. All he knows is something is....building.

And he knows someone in the reporter put is directing a symphony with his pencil. Great Scott, Clark thinks, giving his fellow reporter a better look with his amazing super-vision!

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Orphan and Misfit are here, though Misfit is more of the pacing type. High energy, not sitting still; she's in the hall, occasionally peeking in and asking if the bad guys are attacking yet. Or other also active things. Orphan keeps glancing up, then back to what they're doing, which is using her eyes on the crowds.

Eyes. Her eyes were always the greatest asset, even more than Orphan's vaunted skills. Her ability to see things before they happen are something taken into account on a day like today. Seeing tiny changes in postures, or subtle shifts in the way crowds are moving.

Her hand tightens on Batman's shoulder, as she starts to feel that there's something going on. Often it'd be a good idea to be able to communicate better, but they've never had much issue with that. Something's wrong.

Seconds later she's outside the monitor room, grabbing a handful of her able assistant. Something's up, and she's not asking, she's telling.

Something subtle, something new. She doesn't even know where she's going yet, but she knows that in a closed room isn't the place to be at. And she appears in the doorway of the main room, skidding to a stop. No mask, just her. But the look on her face is worried.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
To be fair. Misfit is very high energy. Sort of this chaotic muppet like vibe that is really hard to subdue.

Except if they are anywhere near Batman. She manages to keep her mouth almost fully shut while things were being observed. She hardly asked if there are bad guys attacking yet. Like. Only twice. Also there is way less pacing than normal. Not zero pacing mind you, just way less. She is honestly trying her very best to look at any monitors and feeds studiously. Mostly trying to pick up what Batman and Orphan due through sheer osmosis with as little ADHD as she can manage.

She doesn't want to embarrass Orphan or make either of the vigilantes regret that she is basically here on a training day run that is pretty big time if she stops and thinks about it.

Also right about when Orphan is deciding that something is absolutely amiss, Charlie cocks her head like a dog hearing something strange down the block. "...huh." is murmured as she scrunches up her nose like she is fighting a sneeze.

Which is right about when Orphan grabs her leads her out of the room. "I have a strange feeling." she notes hushed to Orphan. Adjusting her goggles, having ditched the domino mask for them after an incident on a previous outing. She has carefully upgraded a lot of her gear to go with the honest to god utility belt she has. Boots. Leggings. Everything looks surprisingly professional now a days. Quite the step up from Spirit Halloween Flying Rodent at this point. Though it still isn't the full on ballistic special material that the others have.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
For those not blessed with a fine attunement to magic, or senses that go far beyond the realms of mortal men the first sign that there might be anything wrong is probably the loud crack that comes from outside the courtroom proper. It sounds like something that belongs in the middle of an earthquake perhaps. Of stone and brick and masonry cracking, breaking. For those in the courtroom itself there is nothing immediately obvious, nothing immediately visible, but confused murmurs, sounds of growing panic easily discernable to some.

And then come the *thumps*, huge, heavy footfalls growing nearer and nearer to the courtroom doors. Then a pregnant pause, for just a moment before a massive marble sword cleaves right through those doors, the wooden entrance ripped from the very wall around it and hurled inward amongst the shocked, frightened gasps of the onlookers.

Of course those outside the courtroom proper -- or those with amazing extrasensory powers, or tapped into video feeds -- get a preview. And it's pretty unbelievably. The gallery of the court house buzzes with activity at all hours of the day, there's nothing new in that. Lawyers, clerks, judges, witnesses, police officers, reporters and more, mingling and rushing from place to place. Most are used to the occasional scene. It is a place pretty packed with tension. But they aren't used to seeing the marble statue of Lady Justice that is the centerpiece of the gallery simply pull itself free of it's base with a loud crack. They are certainly not used to watching it swell, to about twice it's normal size and continue to grow as it moves down a side corridor, stopping just outside one of the courtrooms. And then it simply attacks the door, moving as if it weren't just carved out of marble, that strike hurling a rain of debris inwards.

In the courtroom itself that grinning reporter casts his gaze back towards Clark, that grin never fading as he playfully flicks the end of his dancing pencil towards his 'fellow reporter'. Peering so intently, the man seems to... blur, ever so slightly. As if hidden behind an image, as if not truly himself. Then he edges aside, sliding towards the far end of that bench just as activity in the courtroom draws to an abrupt halt, shouts and cries starting up as people dive for cover under that sudden rain of debris that washes over the room...

The fact that other Leaguers are here is a comforting thing, even for the Dark Knight. He might not have requested them, but he appreciates that they took his concerns seriously. And they can definitely blend in a courtroom then he can. So when things go to hell, he knows they will be on top of it. He instead turns his attention to the Gotham crew he brought with them. "Civilians," he says sharply. "Focus on getting them out of the line of fire and then recon. Figure out who is doing this," he says over the comm.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Karen does not have a sense for magic. What she does have, however, is a particular set of powers. Powers that make her a nightmare for basically anyone that dislikes a certain bodytype and/or is adverse to being punched with enough strength to cheaply send them to an exotic and different celestial body.

    Part of this is what clues her into what's happening. The noises coming from the hallway and the gallery outside- luckily, the only noises that she can pick up of the civilians are ones of fright and flight, not those of people being crushed or carved in twain. She pushes off of the wall, and starts making her way calmly towards the door, stowing the citation in exactly what got her the ticket in the first place. Part of her, honestly, is almost /happy/ something is happening in this courtroom, but all the same, she is ready for what's coming through the door. "Everyone get clear, I'll keep it busy." she states, before lifting just a few inches off of the floor, and bursting forward, debris shattering on impact with her, some bouncing back through the doorway at the statue that she aims to tackle, and get a hold on- It may be magical, but if she can stop it from using the sword, she should still be able to overpower it.

    That, however, is going to occupy her: Which means the others will have to deal with the innocent at hand.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Not waiting for Misfit, Orphan is already into the room when the door starts to split. Instinct is intense in her, and she can't wait. Not even a heartbeat, as she's seen that there is a woman with a child in the crowd, and without hesitation she's moving like darkling swift.

The spread of debris, some of it like shrapnel, is flung outward. There are some hurt, and while Orphan assumes that Misfit is doing what she can, she is suddenly in place. pieces of sharp steel, wood, concrete hit, but they do not strike the pair. They hit her in the back, in her armour laying beneath her hoodie and pants.

Then she's pointing to the exits, her eyes commanding.

She looks at Misfit, then cups her mouth. Points to the exit. She needs help.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Misfit follows Orphan into the room from one of the side rooms. She does stop a moment to witness the door being split though. I mean that is a gigantic Lady Justice with her Sword. It is very impressive "Jeepers."

She blinks and looks to Cass though and then back to one of the exits. "Right." she vanishes with a slash of pink and purple smoke, reappearing a moment later up on the judge's bench with an excellent view of the whole room. "Okay everyone evac now through the back doors to the chamber!" to which the teenager points to the doors that the judge and jury use to access the court room. "Now! Move it Move it!" Like directing traffic really.

There was a >Bang< of Chaos Magick (tm) when the teenager teleported up there for those mystically attuned.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I've got someone weird over here." Clark says into the com he's built into his glasses. Well, had built. Kelex did it. The point is: it's awesome, he has walkie talkie glasses. "Doing some kind of wizard motions and blurring. My super-vision isn't picking much up, though. I'll get the door if one of you guys can keep an eye on him."

Clark smiles at the sinister man and his sinister glow, and does his own cool blurring trick. Fortunately Clark Kent is so aggressively boring it's hard to even notice he's gone, especially when a giant shapley statue is fighting the Statue of Justice in the middle of the room. Quickly changing, Superman appears in a blur.

"Huh." Superman says as Misfir directs traffic. "She's got the right idea, folks! Let's all take a breath while Power Girl gets her cardio in for the evening, huh?" Clark tries to keep an eye on the mysterious reporter, while making a metnal note to do a count for how many apprentices Batman actually has.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Black ink bleeds across the page in a horizontal line. The diagonal slash swerves right to left, pen drawing a curly zwirl and stretching out the bottom horizontal bar contained within a circle. Zatanna has pretty handwriting, especially when using her namesake initial. Tidy ink swallowed into the page stays put as she strikes a line through the Z and then a second, highlighting the warded sigil written on the legal pad.

Letters written around the circumference of the circle come to life, glowing where she has willed them to be. Dleihd, esir! Leas lla edisni.

Shocks of black ink shouldn't do anything but Zatanna makes that point moot. She already turns in her chair before the vibrations reach the door. "That's going to keep anything from getting out or in," she murmurs, scrambling to take the pad with her while she moves among two startled older observers. "Excuse me, please duck your heads, crash position!"

When it comes to guarding the civilians from the great horrible statue wielding a heavy marble sword, she leaves that to the heavyweights. Her position is still enmeshed among the other attendees, and sadly she has neither cheap cigarette or amazing sword of her own to call up. Chaos magick makes her wince, but only for a moment. Zatanna can question that later.

She doesn't even bother with the wand, instead pulling on her own energy source silently in a growing wave. Orienting on Amos, she gestures with a quick, elegant flourish. "Peels."

No, he doesn't get banana peels. If he's lucky, he sleeps.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
While there would probably be some hesitation at listening to a young woman dressed up like Misfit is under normal circumstances, a good suggestion is a good suggestion. It might also help that Superman is suddenly there echoing it too. Just a little. And even the appearance of some very familiar figures doesn't seem to encourage anyone to stick around, the judge and lawyers and the front rows of observers all stumbling and scampering towards the indicated door that leads out into one of the side hallways filled with offices and meeting rooms. In short, away from Lady Justice who does not seem to be feeling particularly noble today. At least most do. Professor Amos Fortune continues to sit numbly in his seat, one of the baliffs moving towards him when he shows no signs of running on his own. The guard hardly notices when he slumps in his seat, apparently intent on sleeping through the entire thing. What a weirdo!

While the debris is the immediate danger, Power Girl is there to keep the big stuff from getting through and landing on those in the gallery. Likewise, Orphan assist in that too, taking the brunt of the flying blows on her body armor. But what is equally strange? When some of that debris is hurled back through the door, flying back to the statue it all seems to stop just short, dropping to the ground without ever marking the statue that continues to slowly expand, ducking it's head to try and slip through the door -- not quite making it. Instead a new shower of bricks and mortar begin to drop, falling towards the streaking Power Girl.

That won't be much of an obstacle to her of course. More concerning however? Her flying body tackles stops just an inch short of the statue as well, as if it were surrounded by a thin lair of ultra dense air. Or perhaps an enchantment. Either way, the statue seems unphased though instead of lashing out with that marble sword she instead begins to swing the Scales of Justice towards Karen like an improvsed flail.

The reporter that has caught Clark's interest is not still either, huddled in the far corner of the room as the statue makes it's appearance. He doesn't even blink, doesn't even look that way. Instead he stares at the defendant's desk at the front of the room rather fixedly -- his gaze only shifting when Misfit suddenly appears on the judge's bench. That malevolent gaze turns her way for a moment, assessing. Then he begins to move, walking steadily through the increasing chaos towards that little gate that walls off the observer gallery from the front of the court room.

As he walks, the blurring that Superman noticed becomes more obvious. For a moment the shabby suit seems to turn purple, more a flowing robe then a jacket. For just an instant, a mere flash it almost looks like there is a silver wheel slowly rotating around his head. And still he walks forward calmly, eyes back on the slumbering Fortune.

None of that is apparent to Batman however as he abandons his look out, moving towards the gallery and the courtroom as well. He does tap into the security system so he can bring up camera images on his HUD, but he otherwise races to join the others. "Orphan, check out the reporter. Near the back," he says over the comm.

Karen Starr has posed:
    Bricks are nothing to her- falling mortar and debris are something a mildly incensed Karen tosses away like foam-rubber blocks. She moves through them like water, cascading off of her invulnerable form like raindrops. The dust of the destruction might have hindered her vision were she not moving so quickly, and already trying to keep her eyes clear, the blue of them paling slightly as she peers through it like it isn't there.

    The problem comes in when she reaches the statue- halting just before she can properly tackle it, and render it inert. Even magical fields can't keep her at bay for long, but this one doesn't have to: It just has to stop her from doing what she wants in the immediate seconds after contact, which is enough time for the golem to swing on her.

    There is a /terrible/ thwack that results, and Power Girl is flung to the side, embedded in the wall of the courtroom as she takes the whole of the swing. Pulling herself free and to a knee, she mutters a quiet "Ow." before the blue of her eyes becomes a furious red. The color of the room takes that tint as well when she unleashes heat vision in so much force that she can, not willing to harm anyone present: But aiming to swallow the animated statue in the heat of the sun itself. It doesn't last long of course- quick, concentrated bursts are all she dares do for fear of depleting her reserves too quickly, and of letting it get out of hand. It's still... Probably more force and heat than Kal would unleash, by no small margin. Every version of Kara is so much less willing to hold back.

    Tempering that heat is another charge, one that won't be dissuaded so easily- she means to test the strength of that field, and isn't going to be caught holding back so much of her strength to do so. Were the statue really alive? She certainly might, but sadly, confronting Kryptonians with constructs and golems gives them a chance to cut loose, just a little.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Honestly Charlie isn't even a little bit upset about the Super-Backup.

Superman's sudden appearance almost makes her fall right off the perch on the Judge's bench, she wobbles but manages to keep her footing. "Woah..." wide eyed. She is still a bit star struck by Superheros and it shows.

Her attention is ripped away from the Man of Steel to the Lady of Justice though as she isn't really stopped by Powergirl yet, and starts swinging the flail of .. ur scale of Justice. "Uhoh..." as it impacts Powergirl like that. Then she is glancing down at the various people in the court to shout "Move it people Move it!" waving towards the exit and then leaping down off the bench to help an older woman back up to her feet and towards the doors she was directing traffic. She figures it is appropriate to get down and get her hands dirty helping the civilians evac not just yell and point at them.

When another man stumbles she bounces, teleporting with another slashbang of chaos magic to the other side of the court room and helps steady him and then reorientates him to send him scampering to the nearest exit in the back "Hustle but watch your feet!"

Which puts her in the path of the blurrring reporter as she keeps helping people along.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Orphan is already scanning the crowd. It's habitual, and has saved her life on the regular, so when she spots people acting differently from the crowd it sticks out as if they were bathed in a spotlight. The woman, with the odd motions. The guy with the hair. Sleepy. The other guy, the dangerous one.

.If only she knew English a little better, she'd likely react to what Bruce is saying over the comms.

Luckily she's already aimed at the right one. There's only one person in the room who has her actual attention, and she motions to Misfit, her eyes widening. Then she says, "Danger," in her odd, rough voice.

She does a leaping slide, somehow bypassing two people who are being too slow for her tastes, aiming to shoulder check the girl. Danger, apparently, and Misfit may not (isn't) aware of it.

A moment before she was a person. Now she's a challenge, her feet spread enough for balance, her hands with fingers spread. And she snaps her fingers in the room, trying to draw Zatanna's attention.

You go through me, her body says. And not a word passes.

Clark Kent has posed:
Superman's life is triage.

You have to decide how to save as many people as efficently as possible in any situation. You're SUPERMAN. Everything you do has impact, and in this world of cardboard your slightest mistkaes are deadly. You have to look at your cousin battling a horror, and these two kids jumping around in deadly danger, and the people trying not to panic and Amos Fortune snoring away like an engogred tick latched to the back of reality's ear. And it's frustrating. They don't KNOW, they can't see the truth enriched in the atoms that play across Clark's super-vision as he catches a glimpse of a familiar purple robe. They don't know we're all in this together.

"Nah." Superman says, despite suspecting just how weak he is against this deadly foe of the Justice League. "She's still getting her knees scraped."

Superman smiles, taunting a little, floating there like a sneering sun god. "And you still owe me one for the museum, don't you big guy? Come on. Adult swim. First shot's free." He hopes Misfit gets the message: BAIL.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Clark's warning and her own vision help Zee. At least she doesn't have to worry about John Constantine getting in her line of sight.

In this room, in this place, one of them holds the keys to the magical kingdom. That gives her none of the exceptional durability or laser-vision of some, nor the mind-boggling strategic approach of the Bat Family's experience. Though among the many risks swirling around her, Zatanna has perception stretching into very strange spectra indeed. If spectra it can be called, anyway. With Orphan in the way, she gives a quick thumbs up and ducks around to the benches. It takes some careful footwork to achieve. All the movements are a great way to become disoriented with the feedback blurring into her vision saying 'Purple Robes' and 'No purple robes.' Also, staying well away from a massive marble blade and flying debris matters.

A sealed barrier prevents ready involvement from exterior forces, the only way out through the exits where civilians flee. One solution for crowd control, but bigger issues stand at the ready. Her eyes narrow as she peers around the protective wooden and metal barrier, an emblem of law over the residents and denizens of New York.

A small crystal pulled from just about nowhere comes to her fist. Stored energy vibrates in a bit of wood used to good purpose next. Sheathed in her sleeve, a black wand tipped in ivory drops into the other hand, and it's that which she points at the man headed for the observer gallery. Compared to the others, he just about burns. "Cigam eveal eht s'rail mrof dna yned sih llac."

Nasty to shoot someone in the back. Again, blame John Constantine.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
The evacuation continues apace, though it is not without it's difficulties. The door leading out the back is single file only and there is a bit of a rush which leads to some pushing and shoving. The debris does not help and as the statue forces it'self into the room the stenographer's table falls over, providing an impediment. But the room is increasingly clearing, a handful of people still making their way up and the baliffs lingering behind both to see if they're needed and to escort the sleeping Amos Fortune to safety.

For all of it's might and defenses, there is no hint of satisfaction on the blindfolded, stony face of Lady Justice as she hurls Power Girl across the room with that blow. She -- it? -- simply uses that time to force her way into the court room, sending out another shower of debris that those who aren't invulnerable are forced to dodge. Or maybe the lack of emotion comes from knowing that knocking a Kryptonian around is no victory. It certainly isn't in this case when Karen directs that burst of heat vision it's way.

It might be a lifeless golem, nothing more then an animated costruct but it reacts like anyone might when faced with that kind of power. It hurls it's stony hands up in front of it, complete with those marble weapons, trying to shield itself from the sheer heat in that gaze. And for a moment, it does, that invisible shielding holding. But only a moment. Then those rays are pouring directly into the rock that forms it and by the time they cease both sword and scales are little more then a pool of liquid, steaming on the ground and the artistry of the statue is... diminished to a more slag-like state. Even still, it moves, still animated, one heavy, mishaped hand swing a wide, arching strike and sending two of the benches crashing across the room towards Power Girl.

The reporter continues towards the front of the room, pausing for a moment as that flair of chaos magic fills the air once more, his gaze locking eyes on Misfit once more, again consideringly. But then his attention is distracted by his golem being melted, distracted by Superman's taunt. A sneer slides over the face of that otherwise innoculous reporter. "Meddlesome wretches," he says, words still confident despite the twist of his mouth. "Abnegazar! Rath! Ghast! Deal with these gnats for me while I see to my," and again his lip curls derisively, "brother in the arts." And with that Felix Faust sheds the illusion that has shrouded his appearance, resplendant in those purple robes and hat, in that golden torc and gold piping inscribed with mystical symbols of all sorts.

At those words three more... beings simply seem to fade into existence, appearing as if they have been there all along. Huge, each easily towering over the others in the room, their shoulders threatening to lift the roof right off it's resting place. Purple, though lighter in hue then their master's robes. Strange and twisted with eyes too big, ears too big and strange, arcane patterns covering their bodies. Two of them -- Big Eyes and Big ears -- reach for Superman, each looking as if they intend to simply grab him and tug him apart like a wishbone, split right down the middle. The last, it's eyes all dark, shadowed malevolence appears as Orphan's side, it's head tilting an unnatural angle as if studying her. Then it too is lunging for the Gotham heroine.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Yes, everything is going Faust's way. Until it suddenly isn't. Too busy watching Superman, waiting for him to be torn apart he doesn't hear Zatanna's chanting until it's too late. Eyes widen and he tries to speak, words tricking over themselves as he tries to counter her counterspell. And then he staggers, furious anger and more then a little shock as he finds himself momentarily stripped over his spellcasting. "Ghast! You know what to do!" he calls out.

The demon with the strange, shadowed eyes and arcane circles engraved on it's purple flesh abruptly ceases lunging for Orphan and instead turns, taking a mere step before reaching out and touching the slumbering Amos Fortune's forehead. It speaks, the sound almost mind breaking, the words unintelligible and completely horrifying at the same time. Words that have no place in this universe.

And Amos Fortune's eyes snap open, wild and intense. The baliff trying to lift him from his seat jumps in shock as his his holstered side arm suddenly goes off, the bullet striking his foot and sending him hobbling away with a surprised cry of pain. Then Professor Fortune's gaze locks on Zatanna and the intensity turns to rage. "You!" he shouts. "You humiliated me!" he cries, staggering to his feet as waves of negative probability magic flood towards the Justice League's sorceress in waves.

Racing through the halls, Batman arrives at the courtroom, taking in the scene, the confusion and the destruction. Eyes narrow at the sight of the Demons Three, of Fortune standing and furious and radiating power. And at Faust, staggering back, the Jar, the Bell and the Wheel circling his head.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Misfit didn't know this was all magic. She isn't really a student of the mystic arts. But the whole situation was causing an ache in her wisdom teeth really.

She is helping the nice man back up to his feet, kicking aside the stenographers bench, minding her own business. She looks puzzled because she swears to the gods that she heard Orphan warn her of danger in a room full of giant statues and ... danger.

Then suddenly she is shoulder checked aside as Orphan completes that leaping slide and positions herself between her and ... nothing. Though man staring at the blurr of nothing.. reporter.. robes... really makes her wisdom teeth ache. She feels a bit of a migraine coming on really. "Uck." she notes loudly.

She dances back another step, then teleports back up to the judges bench perching once more when Superman also interposes himself up there to take the danger head on and basically tells her to bail.

Which gives her an amazing view of all the demon summoning really. "Daang." .. .. dang indeed Charlie. She fishes around in her utility belt for a moment, about to chuck a batarang at the purple robed dude from her perch, figuring Orphan and Superman have the demons. It is Superman and Orphan after all.

Then the Demon twists away from Orphan and touches Amos, who isn't all that far from Misfit. So she kicks out and applies a boot right to the side of the demon's head.... maybe.

Regardless of it connecting or not though she is too close to Amos and the railing on the Judge's Bench that she is perched on cracks, breaking, and sends her toppling off her perch in the opposite direction of the momentum of her kick. Away from Amos and the Demon.

Which is not necessarily completely bad luck. But it is good for Amos.

The floor isn't soft though "Ooof!"

Cassandra Cain has posed:
And this is when Misfit gets one of the most lifesaving lessons she'll ever get in her hero'ing career. Because Orphan, the one who always has her wits about her, who always knows what to do, is standing there like an idiot.

She looks like she hasn't a clue. She looks like she's fighting fear, and she is, clear as day, in over her head. A demon reaches for her, lunges for her, and she does nothing of any value at all.

It's not until the demon gauges her as not worth killing that she acts, the fear on her face having left her frozen. She glances up at Misfit, her eyes seeming to shift, to realize that she's being watched by someone who will someday be there in her place, and her body stiffens.

And Orphan's fists clench. Before she leaps at the Demon's back, trying to get it into a choke hold from behind. I am terrified. I can not win.

Do it anyway.

Clark Kent has posed:
"Alright." Superman says, "That's a good shot."

He's held by two of the Demons Three, monsters capable of manipulating celestial bodies under the right conditions. It hurts. Clark's first thought is to this civilian kid who the third one is after, and he struggles against the seemingly weak arms and finds himself in a grip like iron. Hell of a kid, Clark thinks even as he grunts, trapped by two of the Demons Three like a wishbone at Thanksgiving. Superman plants his feet...

...and strength that can move the moon pulls on Superman, trying to rip him apart! "-aah." Superman gives out a tiny sound of pain, as he feels his shoulders start to struggle with the sheer force of the pair of demons and their cruelty. Not to mention what Rath (Rath? The names are hard to keep track of, as Clark's arms shake under the pressure of keeping himself upright) is about to do to that poor kid trying to put him in a chokehold...

The ground starts to crack, wood shattering and long, thin lines breaking as deep as the foundation as Superman gets serious about fighting back. "Sunlight." He says to anyone who'll listen, "Direct sunlight."

Arms shaking, Superman starts to move, slowly, pulling them together; it's a stalemate right now, the titanic clash of forces threatening to destroy the entire building if one cannot gain advantage over the other!

Karen Starr has posed:
    Power Girl is elated to see that the barrier drops around the statue. It may not be gone long, but that's enough. Benches halt some of the most powerful heroes when flung their way, but Power Girl is not simply powerful- it's in the damn name, after all. She's not kidding around with it. She has enough sense to shield her face with her forearms in much the same way as the statue did, but as far as she's concerned, it's vulnerable: And from what she's hearing, there are other, more potent threats in the room.

    She hadn't been present for Faust's most recent escapade, but she'd read the reports in between shirking responsibilities at Starrware- as she's /that/ lazy of a CEO to shirk one responsibility for another, completely unrelated, responsibility- and what she'd read wasn't pleasant.

    So, the charge continues. The oaken benches shatter on contact, splintering as she batters through them in grim silence before twisting just /so/ to deliver a mighty, thunderous double-fisted slam at-speed on the marble golem... Something she had always suspected was more of a distraction than anything. The cracked and molten thing nigh-explodes as she hits it, not shattering as such to endanger others, but being reduced to rubble thanks to its lack of a forcefield.

    Taking but a moment to breathe, she turns, and starts assessing- Faust is a threat. The awakened criminal is a threat. The problem is, one is major in a field she has no expertise in. Tackling Faust right now could go quite poorly.

    The demons, though.

    Power Girl is a blur of movement once again, not willing to foresake speed for the minor discomfort of others, and emerging from the cloud of rubble that was once a statue is Power Girl, flinging herself towards the Demon that Orphan was tackling. Bruce would never forgive her, even if she'd done something more prudent, even if he'd approved.

    A twist in the air, and she's bringing one impossibly powerful foot straight for Ghast's knee. Perhaps, at that point, he might be more preoccupied with Orphan- but it's a clear declaration that /he/ fights /her./

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
Seeing the train coming doesn't give Zatanna Zatara time to avoid the collision. That whole trope of time dilating before an accident might not have solid psychological and medical foundations. It's true though. The brain latches onto innocuous details. Other elements accelerate.

"Abnegazar" is all that Faust needs to say to trigger the effect. Her stomach flips as the last two cursed words finish an incantation. Gasping for breath at the energy blown out of her to rip down the other spells, diminishing them into dust around the sorcerer, she has just enough time to see those details. The handsome torc. The mad eyes. The Bell, the Bell, the Bell.

"Oh no." She speaks too late. The risk might be hard to understand, but she starts to dash away from the civilians, Superman, Misfit. "Not this." The crystal in her hand bites hard into the flesh of her palm, cutting skin to taste blood. The contortions of luck don't help when dashing and bounding to escape the immediate grey-violet tendrils reaching for her in a bombardment that she can't escape. Bad luck is like smoke. It tends to linger, and it fills a space in the worst ways.

"Anyone, grab the wheel--- ow!" That's the sign of her ankle twisting, snarled on a wet patch where someone knocked over their drink. Shouldn't have had it anyway, but smuggled in, bad! That's why. She drops to the ground awkwardly, knee striking at a bad angle. Arms flying up protect her face, a clear sign of knowing how to brace when everything's going relentlessly pear-shaped.

It hurts, a wave of pain tearing up her spine.

To anyone listening in the JLA frequencies, there might be hope. Maybe they don't hear her swearing in Italian. "Those things," she breathes out, scrabbling, forcing herself to move. Keep moving. "Control the demons."

Giovanni's lessons blend with Batman's voice, drilled over and over. Get up, get going. Faster! Right as debris smashes down from the statue on her, and she flinches back, covered in dust. Something's red and bleeding, wet on her side. Thin shards lie in her arm, her shoulder, best not to think about that shoulder right now. It doesn't want to move.

"Rath, I'll bargain," that hissing word cants off her tongue, wreathed in pain. Logomancy has its own risk, but her own blood she paints onto the ground, head down and kneeling. Oh so much a petitioner, one overtaken by pain. Of course, soon as it goes, she's going to be blinded by the crystal in her hand and the small explosion it means to entail... that's if she's lucky. If not, no doubt some window is going to explode in on her and shred her to ribbons. But teamwork makes the dream work.

enihsnus lluF.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
With Misfit's help, the last of the civilians is evacuated from the court room putting them out of any immediate danger unless things go very wrong indeed. That's the good part of the situation. The bad part? The teenaged superheroine seems to have caught Felix Faust's attention with her bursts of chaos magic. And nothing good can come from that. Nothing good can come from standing too close to Amos Fortune when he's pissed either and Misfit gets that lesson it the most pointed fashion possible when the Judge's bench literal splits in two, seemingly out of nowhere to deposit her on her behind.

The bright side? The Demon she kicked hardly seemed to notice. In fairness, that might be because it has Orphan on it's back, those arms wrapped around it's neck. Does Ghast even breath? It's hard to know. Perhaps Zatanna might. If she survives this maybe Orphan can get someone to ask her. The important thing? She is keeping it from turning it's attention to Misfit. Protecting others. Sometimes that's all you can do when fighting amongst space gods and demons.

Ghast seems almost quizzical, that neck again tilting at an unnatural angle, one arm reaching back as if to simply fish the young woman off his back and flinger her aside. But before he can do so Power Girl is there, no longer distracted by the animated Lady Justice. The demon is a monster, huge and impossibly powerful. But it has rarely faced anything like a Kryptonian before so when her foot connects with it's knee, that inhuman joint buckles. Ghast staggers, dropping to one knee as it moves like a lunging snake, those twisted if impossibly strong limbs trying to snag hold of Karen.

Of course, Ghast is not the only one learning just how powerful Kryptonians are. Both Abnegazar and Rath do their utmost to try and simply rip Superman apart, tugging on him, trying to wrench arms right out of their sockets. They hear his little gasp of pain, their demented smiles growing. But while the Man of Steel might bend, clearly he will not break, not so easily. The demons strain, they bring their might to bear... and impossible Clark begins to gain a little leverage, to find a reserve to resist. And maybe those demonic smiles slip. Just a bit.

While it might have been the full League that brought down Amos Fortune and his Royal Flush Gang, it was Zatanna's magic that countered his own, that turned it against him and left him naked and humiliated in the middle of the MET, his schemes brought to a premature end in just about the most embarassing way possible. So to see her stumble to see her fall and frantically try to dodge the bits of debris that almost -- but not quite -- brain her, well, he smiles. He smiles like he hasn't in weeks. And still he radiates all of that bad luck that comes so readily to his command at times. In short, Amos is feeling his oats right now. "How do you like it? Being on the ground? Being helpless?" he barks at the fallen sorceress, a little spittle flying from his mouth.

The orange jumpsuit doesn't really flatter him either.

At Zatanna's offer to bargin, the demon Rath only turns that demented grin her way. Then he redoubles his efforts to pull Superman apart. But if it doesn't recognize the danger, it's master surely does. Faust battles back against Zatanna's counterspell, battering at it with the raw power he has harnessed from the three powerful artifacts that orbit his head. He strains, beads of sweat escaping under his hat, running down his face and as his demonic servants hold his enemies at bay, he races for the front of the room once more, practically jumping over the little wooden rail that runs along the room at roughly waist height, reaching for Professor Amos Fortune. For some reason he is the goal of all of this, the reason for all this destruction.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Darting into the room, the Dark Knight doesn't hesitate, moving towards Ghast. He might be a big picture sort of guy, but he would never trade a better tactical position for a life. And then Power Girl is there to deal with things, far better then he ever could. He spares a nod for her, quick and approving before shifting his path without a second thought, darting instead of Zatanna. He imposes himself there, over her, using that cape as a shield to keep the flying debris at pay. And with Clark's suggestion, with her spell, he joins the frey, hand darting into his belt pouch and retrieving a concussion grenade, hurling at the skylight over head.

Glass shatters, from grenade and spell and beams of sunlight, cold, wintery sunlight abruptly fill the courtroom. Let there be light.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Misfit isn't aware right away what the heck just happened. She was kicking a demon then falling off the split bench onto her rear. Now Orphan is on Ghast's neck and then Powergirl is there. Daaang.

She does hear Zatanna though and looks over towards the purple robe'd dude. Honestly if there is anything she does really well it is grab things and get them away from people. It is probably at least fifty percent of the reason Oracle uses her in the field so much despite her being a teenager.

That and Gotham isn't full of the most responsible adopters.

Anyhow from her spot on the floor she vanishes in another slash of pink and purple smoke, that bang of chaos magic present. A heartbeat later the redheaded teenager is wrapping her arms around the floating wheel and there is another flash of smoke.

The Bang of Chaos Magic is more akin to a BOOM For those mystically inclined though. Perhaps one shouldn't try to convince reality itself that you and an extremely powerful demonic magical artifact are actually somewhere else in reality by sheer force of will.

Also the boom was audible, not just to mystic senses.

Charlie is indupitably over by the exit door where she had fallen holding the silver wheel despite the boom. Looking around confused.

The Demon, was it Rath or Abnegazar, holding on to Superman though lets go and utters "What the hecks?" confused.

Karen Starr has posed:
    The noise that a joint makes when it buckles from the wrong direction is a horrid thing, wet and crunchy at the same time.

    It is also very, very satisfying. Power Girl is not to scale of this demon, but that's never mattered before, and it certainly won't now. His hands clamp down around her, but her arms hold to her sides, fending off his grip just /so/, not enough to win the day but enough to keep him from even thinking that he'll crush her between them, even at the difference in their size. All the same, she's not without her tricks- or, perhaps, the same trick. Her eyes, at that point, glow a familiar red.

    "That's right. Eyes on me."

    Another blinding eruption of red bursts out, as Power Girl locks eyes with the demon- Freezing breath was an option, but he might not need to breathe, and might not have found it debilitating at all. But intensely focused lasers, intent on raking across his hopefully-delicate-enough eyes? That just might give her one hell of an advantage.

Clark Kent has posed:
The secret of Superman's strength is a lethal combination of power sources; Superman's base form is already incredibly strong as it was made to survive in the rough, high-gravity climate of Krypton, but the yellow sun of Earth pushes him over the limit. A living solar battery, Superman's greatest powers all come from knowing when and how to charge himself in the empowering light of Sol.

"Thanks, bro." Apparently Superman calls Batman 'bro' sometimes. He also holds his head back, even as Misfit's magic free's an arm up. Cells designed to soak up solar radiation glut themselves on the direct beam of fresh sunlight, and Superman tugs on the light a little bit, force feeding his cells in an emergency power up. His aura super-charges, and for a second Clark looks a faint sheen of gold as the light coming into the building seems to sputter and die, or just fade in comparison to the Man of Steel's radiance. The Zatanna helps, using her magic to channel direct sunlight into Superman's body. Electricity crackles along Clark's chest as he turns to look directly at the elder evil holding his arm.

"You're whole thing is you're...old right? One of the first nightmares people had. Or nightmares OF people, the fears of animals as a new long distance predator started making the rounds. I wonder..."

Superman's hand snaps out and grabs the bug-eyed demon by the throat, as he pulls the big-earned monster closer, suddenly able to move the titanically powered devil with practiced ease. The building shakes treacherously for a moment, and then Clark has it, spinning around, using the momentum of Rath's pull to send himself and the other two demons spinning out of the roof of the building.

I'll have to fix that later, Clark thinks, his brain already running on overdrive from the solar high as he makes lightning fast calculations, a blur of gold and struggling monsters. Superman lets go, hurling the big-eared demon up...

...and into the sky, a CRACK of noise as one flies, and soon another flies after his brother, both demons ripping through the sky, the atmosphere, and finally finding themselves in the dark of space: flung directly at the moon!

"I wonder how you'd handle going further than those lizard brains of yours could comprehend." Superman manages, seeming to fade at the tremendous expulsion of solar power, floating back towards the courthouse.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra, falling off of the back of the demon she was grappling, rolls to her feet with a grace that a ballerina would give her left leg to achieve. She is up on her feet in an instant, and she suddenly stops. Her eyes register everything, her knowing, wyrdling eyes.

And she raises a hand, trying to stop what happens. A word comes out of her, with her gravely, barely used voice. "No..."

But then she's turning, and looking at Misfit's body. And her eyes narrow, and she snarls. Then she's grabbing at Batman, at Zatanna, at anyone. "No!"

And she leaps at Misfit, at the demon inhabiting Misfit's body, and tackles.

Zatanna Zatara has posed:
If Lady Justice were really justice, she'd knock him in the teeth with her scales. Power Girl can do the honours this time.

Bright as the sun in full daylight, rays swivel around Zatanna and backlight Batman, because his cape is inherently resistant to all illuminating and warm. "Thank you" might be lost in the fray, but hopefully not. The spell has to feed on something. She pours in the pain and the gratitude, memories of staring into the sky. Hope at returns, relief in knowing civilians are free. Summer invoked in its shining glory erupts in brighter radiance, almost white-gold.

With her head down, she relies not on sight but that incandescent awareness that can 'see' through the rattling noise, dust, and chaos. Magical senses don't rely fully on vision. She can feel that burst of chaotic magic, the demonic corruption redoubling. Cassandra's warning sings in every fibre, but at the end of the day, there is one last card to play.

Every second counts with alien god-beings and fast-moving young women capable of acts of incredible precision. What's a little scratch to her dignity if it keeps them in action? Zatanna would smile. Amos will think he has the upper-hand, the verdict on Felix Faust entirely different.

Her bloody fingers press onto the floor. Ahead of her lies the crooked seal of justice in New York, but the county courthouse is still a place of law. A swiveling, whirling blast of raw energy goes forking along circular lines, the angular windmill blades of the Court Seal whipping in rotation. As far as magic goes, it's blunt force.

On the other hand, man in a fancy robe? Great way to be entangled and fall over. Trust a woman to know the limitations of dresses cut in a certain way.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
The Silver Wheel of Nyorlath. Does it bind the essence of Abnegazar or Rath? Again, it's a question probably best left to Zatanna. And probably best left for when they aren't fighting for their lives. For now however there is at least one hero in attendance that heard the sorceress' suggestion. And Misfit is suddenly there, wrapped around the Silver Wheel as it orbits Faust's head. And then she's not there, all the way across the room instead at the ruined entrance to the court room. And Faust is left to gape in disbelief as one of the magical artifacts he has sought for so long is suddenly denied to him. Or so it would seem. Despite her success, Misfit... doesn't look right. There is no joyful victory on that face, just... confusion as she stares down at the Silver Wheel in her hands. Then she stares at the two demons that are wrestling Superman. Well... only one now. And disbelief spreads over her face.

While they may be called demons, it is not in Hellfire that they truly reside. They are entities, far older and more powerful then simple Hellspawn. They reside where they choose, on Earth when it was still a primeval paradise, or out in the cold void of space. Amongst the stars. They know heat very well. But that doesn't mean having one's eyes seared with the heat of the sun is ever pleasant. This time Ghast screams, the sound still inhuman and unnatural, still something so foul as not to belong in this reality at all. It is pure pain and rage and the demon simply shoves at Power Girl with all it's strength in an effort to make the pain go away.

With Abnegazer letting go of Superman -- or was it Rath? -- and with the sun pouring into the courtroom the fight is no longer quite so even. Either way, the bug-eyed demon that clings to Clark finds itself hurled skyward, blasted again and again until it leaves the atmosphere altogether. The other one, all big ears and purple mohawk finds itself joining 'his' brother, hurled skyward as confused eyes seek comprehension. Either way, the Demons Three have little left to offer Faust for the moment.

The Dark Knight glances over from where he shields Zatanna from the glass that continues to rain down around them, glancing towards Orphan and her curious reaction to Misfit. Eyes narrow behind that cowl, assessing what could make her behave that way. And really, there's only one answer. If Misfit was not really Misfit. So where is the real Misfit? His eyes dart towards Superman, far too human to call out in time. Maybe Cassandra's wrong this time. Maybe her senses got tricked. Still, his gaze turns heavenward for a moment.

"I want her dead!" Amos Fortune screams, those pig-like eyes fixed on the fallen sorceress, filled with hate. Hands remain clenched at his side, nails digging into his palms. But the sheer flood of 'bad luck' begins to lessen at last. His magic might be powerful, but his stamina and control seems to be a little lacking.

Those are flaws that Faust does not seem to suffer under. He lays a hand on Fortune's shoulder, no longer shaken or fearful, the sneer but in his gaze and on his lip. "You'll get that, if it's what you truly want. But for now we have bigger things to worry about. You're a neophyte boy. But I can make you more. I can make all of us more," he says, the hand resting on the other crude wielder of magic glowing for a moment. Fortune seems to calm at once, his eyes going distant as he gives a nod.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"Good. Good. Now let me just do this..." Faust says, waving a hand and a black as night portal suddenly appears, rolling towards them like some giant, crazy ball. Does he not understand what Zatanna has done? Does he not understand that she has sealed them in? At the last moment Faust's gaze glints malevolently towards the Justice League's Sorceress Supreme and Fortune's bad luck power flares again. Of course Zee's magic hits out at him in the same instant, sweeping both he and Fortune from thier feat, leaving them to land heavily on the floor in an undignified heap. And if there is anything magicians hate it is to be robbed on their dignity.

But downed or not, that incantation that keeps them sealed in has it's polarity reversed. The portal rolls over Faust and Fortune as they vanish. And those remaining in the room? Well, they might find themselves flung towards any available exit at very high speeds.

That includes Misfit and Orphan, flung through the gaping hole that used to be the entrance to the courtroom. Misfit still looks confused, at least for an instant. But as the other heroine tackles her she actually snarls, snapping at Cassandra with her teeth. Then, writhing beneath her, still clutching that Silver wheel she vanishes in that puff of smoke.

Hopefully that is not going to be as big a problem as it seems...

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra has looked a lot of ways in her time. She has rarely looked helpless. This is her moment though, with the eyes that see so much, as she looks up from the floor at everyone. Dark eyes. She looks for a target, someone she can punch.

It's odd but hitting Superman doesn't seem to help.

Karen Starr has posed:
    There's a confident smile as Power Girl makes a primordial being- older than, perhaps, time as a concept- scream in horrible pain. When you're facing down enemies that command a force that can cause you great harm, you take any victory you can get.

    Especially as you're sent smirking into the opposing wall, said wall cracking and breaking around it's /second/ Power Girl shaped dent, the wall itself yielding until she hit Zee's seal, which thuds with whatever magical sound effect sounds best for it at the time.

    She's lodged in that wall, winded for a short while, before rebounding swiftly enough that she'd be upon the demon... If he were still there. The force of being flung around is enough that Karen isn't moving back to the center of the room very quickly, but she is after a moment to catch her breath.

    "Is everyone okay?" she offers, "Everyone seems okay. Did we evacuate everyone in time?" She's moving towards Kal and Bruce- the two people she knows would probably have a better idea of the whole of the situation. If nothing else, she's there to help Zatanna to her feet, or off of them if she's not able to walk at the moment.

Charlotte Gage-Radcliffe has posed:
Seriously. Who even believes a demon when they demonically if a bit panickedly yelp "Waaaaait!" as they get tossed into orbit.

Demons are all liars and evil. Probably a trick.

After a certain point though whistling at high velocity Charlie does try to force a teleport .... she knows how to teleport. The question is can she still teleport....

Which actually works well before hitting the moon.

Thank Frickin Heck.

Of course the place she panicks and teleports to is her old room in the burnt out husk of a tenement in Suicide Slums... which well ... she falls through several floors partially collapsing the interior with the demon weight...


Implosion noises.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Faust is gone. Fortune is gone. The Demon's Three are gone. And most troubling of all, Misfit is gone as well. And they are left with questions. So many important questions. Normally the Dark Knight can be counted on to provide a few answers. That might be his real superpower -- always knowing more about what's going on then anyone else. But he doesn't know where their foes have gotten to. He doesn't know what Faust's interest in Fortune might be, though that might be the easiest one to guess at given the way he seemed to coopt the other man's abilities. He doesn't know what happened to Misfit, or how they are going to find her. But there is one problem he has that is bigger then any of the others -- and he should know given his big picture focus. "What the hell am I going to tell Oracle?" he mutters, glancing about the shattered courtroom.