The Outsiders: California Dreaming (Underworld Unleashed)
Jan 6, 2024 20:56:43 GMT
johnreiter902 likes this
Post by DocQuantum on Jan 6, 2024 20:56:43 GMT
A few minutes earlier:
Four figures were strolling down Rodeo Drive, enjoying the Los Angeles weather in July.
"Dahhhlings, why did it take you so long to move out here to L.A.?" said Lia Briggs, a tall, gorgeous redhead wearing a light green summer dress and large sunglasses beneath a white brimmed hat. "If I'd known you were coming sooner, I would've thrown on something a bit better than these old rags."
Tatsu Yamashiro rolled her eyes, but she could tell that Gabrielle Doe was eating up every word. It was little wonder that the Japanese martial artist called Katana felt compelled to watch over her; although Gaby was now legally an adult, she possessed the innocence and naiveté of a young girl. That was why her heroic name of Halo suited her so.
"Gosh, Lia, you've always looked so beautiful, no matter what you do," said Gaby.
"Yes, about that," said Tatsu with a frown. "You never did explain just how you got your powers back, and so recently, too."
"Oh, that?" Lia said with a laugh. "Darling, my power was within me the whole time. It's within all of us, really. We just have to keep from doubting ourselves, wouldn't you agree, Wendy?"
Gabrielle's closest friend was Wendy Doe, whose true surname remained unknown. Even younger than Gaby, Wendy was better known by the name Windfall, first as a member of a super-villain team, and now as a super-heroine herself. She perked up at the mention of her name; she was used to being left to herself so much that she was at a loss for words whenever someone asked for her opinion.
"Yes," she said simply, finding approval in Gaby's eyes. Wendy looked down again when she saw that Katana was still scowling. "I mean... I wouldn't really know. I -- I've always been a bit shy."
"I understand completely, darling," Lia said, putting one arm around the girl. "I used to be just like you. That's why it's so wonderful that you're finally here in L.A., where even the shyest wallflower can reinvent herself!"
Gabrielle and Wendy giggled, and Tatsu sighed impatiently. She wasn't looking forward to the prospect of having to put up with Looker back on the team again. And don't think I didn't notice how you deflected my question, either, thought Katana. I'll get the truth out of you yet.
Suddenly, the ground was rocked by explosions. Before any of the startled women could speak, they suddenly found themselves enveloped by a green glow.
***
The Citadel, Los Angeles:
"What the--?!" cried Lia Briggs.
"Where are we?" said Gaby Doe, Wendy Doe clinging to her from behind and looking worried.
Tatsu Yamashiro had already drawn her sword and was about to attack when she saw the strange-looking alien before her. But when she saw Jeff Pierce standing in his Black Lightning outfit next to the alien, she quickly put two and two together.
"Sorry 'bout the abrupt 'port," rumbled the huge alien Green Lantern called Kilowog as he held up his glowing green ring. "You Earth poozers aren't used ta instantaneous transport, are ya?"
"Jeff, darling, I'm happy to see you," said Lia, frowning. "But a little warning would have been nice."
"Good to see you, too, Lia," said Black Lightning. "We don't have time for small talk just now, but we could really use your help -- if you're up for it!"
"Always, darling," Lia replied with a quick smile, her eyes suddenly flashing blue.
"Then suit up, everyone," said Black Lightning. "'Cause there's a mad bomber loose in this city, and there's no one better qualified than the Outsiders to bring 'im down!"
***
Minutes later, the Outsiders stood upon a rooftop as they watched a group of costumed men and women deliver the mad bomber, a super-terrorist called the Annihilator, into police custody. The Annihilator had already been cuffed with special power-dampening gauntlets purchased some time ago from the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit, or SCU.
Below, the group of new super-heroes who had stopped the Annihilator were signing autographs for an eager, adoring crowd. No one below bothered to look up to see the Outsiders as they crowded around the colorful super-team on the ground.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that," muttered Black Lightning with a frown.
"Who are those people?" asked Halo.
"And who designed those gaudy costumes?" sniffed Looker.
You're one to talk, thought Katana, remaining silent.
"Looks like nobody needed you poozers after all," observed Kilowog.
"Yep," Black Lightning said with a slight grin. "Whoever they are, they've managed to outshine the Outsiders without even knowing it." With a shrug, he added, "Well, it's not as if we expected to be the only game in town, right? Something like this was bound to happen eventually, and besides, the world could always use more heroes, right?"
But try as he might, Jefferson Pierce couldn't even convince himself with those words, let alone the others. And he certainly wasn't prepared for what they'd learn about this new team next.
***
James Jesse was troubled. The circus acrobat turned high-flying super-criminal turned stuntman and special effects artist had been trying to turn over a new leaf for a few years now. But somehow he just kept falling into circumstances that made his resolve wither away like snowfall in the spring. No, it wasn't the circumstances at all, he realized. It was the fact that he couldn't commit to staying on the straight and narrow like he sometimes wanted to. That was why, despite taking positive steps to begin an honest life, he was only able to last for a few months before falling off the wagon again. Alcohol wasn't his problem; it was the notoriety that he received for being the Trickster and outsmarting the police and any super-foes he might encounter that really gave him the same kind of thrill he'd known as a child on the high-wire trapeze.
He'd already tarnished his reputation a few times by slipping back into old habits, so much so that there weren't too many bridges left to burn. Thankfully, he still had a few friends in the business who were willing to give him a break, as long as he could stay out of the crime game for the duration of any given project.
But his old friends, the ones who were still in the game full-time, still thought of him as one of them. They kept offering him new jobs, new opportunities that tempted him to play the role of the Trickster again and again.
Yet, even after he'd backslidden a few times over the last couple of years, James Jesse still thought of himself as an honest man, someone who had reformed despite still having a few rough edges. So when he was sent a glowing green candle with a note attached from a fellow named Neron, he knew he had finally come to a point at which he'd have to make a final decision about the future of his life, once and for all. It was either accept this Neron's offer and potentially become a better version of the Trickster than he'd ever been, and accept the risks of losing his soul both metaphorically and literally, or walk away from that life for good and continue along the path of the righteous man, and accept both the difficulties of an honest life of hard work and the eventual rewards for doing right by his fellow man.
Decisions, decisions...
Of course the Trickster attended the meeting. How could he not? At the very least he wanted to see who else would be there, and who agreed to serve Neron. He didn't think of it as being that much of a big deal, really.
But as he lit the green candle at midnight on that fateful night, and found himself transported to a place that was not a place that sure had the distinctive smell of something like brimstone in the air, the full weight of what he was doing suddenly hit him full on. It was a moment of clarity, as adherents to Alcoholics Anonymous might have called it. What he was doing was foolish. What was he thinking? There was no such thing as walking between both worlds. You had to either choose the light or let the darkness absorb you. There was no in-between, and he knew he'd been fooling himself all these years thinking there was a third option.
As he looked around at all the faces of his former friends, he felt as if he was in a sea of lost souls, of blinded men and women who had no idea that they were digging their own graves by putting their destinies in Neron's hands. Their lives would be shortened drastically in some cases, and in others they might live without any thought of turning back or seeking redemption.
Not so with James Jesse. For the first time in his life he came to the realization that all of this -- God, the Devil, sin, and the spirit -- was real. It was no joke. He also knew another thing: that if he didn't make a strong effort to seize this moment of clarity and burn it into his memory, he would forget about it, and end up falling right back into his old habits.
He barely heard a thing that Neron said. All he remembered was that, when it came to the point that he was forced to make a decision whether to accept Neron's offer or turn it down, he did neither. Somehow, he skirted the question entirely, and soon found himself back on solid ground. He hadn't said yes, and he also hadn't said no.
But he had not forgotten his moment of clarity.
Still, Neron was a dirty old bastard, and along came temptation at a time before he had firmly resolved to turn his back on that old life of his. It came in the form of a seemingly legitimate job for a seemingly legitimate client.
A Hollywood producer from Verner Brothers had approached him with an unusual project. The studio had assembled a team of super-heroes that was touted to be the next big thing -- bigger than the New Teen Titans, and potentially as major as the Justice League, given enough time. But for their debut upon the world stage, they needed something splashy, something epic. They needed the world to see them perform heroic feats saving the city from a dastardly villain.
It sounded great, at least at first. Hadn't James Jesse wanted to go straight and do some good in the world? But as he started thinking about it, something about it smelled like another one of Neron's too-good-to-be-true offers.
Before he could stop himself, something in him uttered the words, "Thanks for the offer, but I'll have to pass."
He couldn't understand it himself at the time, but he shook the man's hand and watched him walk away.
And now, as he sat at the Bar Sinister watching the TV news about the mad bomber in downtown Los Angeles, he couldn't help but notice a few strange things. Those explosions sure didn't look like they were doing any damage; they looked like a flashy light-show of pyrotechnics and booming sound, but nothing of any substance. And as for that speech by the mad bomber, the Annihilator -- who spoke in such a cartoonish, corny way these days? As a longtime super-villain with a few years under his belt in special effects, the Trickster knew could tell when he was being tricked.
Now it made sense why that Verner Brothers executive had sought him out. They needed someone who knew special effects but was willing to commit a few crimes and potentially take the rap for them if the game was found out. There were a few on his mental list of suspects, but given the pyrotechnical nature of the obviously fake bombing, one stood out: Garfield Lynns.
Something else didn't sit right with him. If this new super-team that Verner Brothers was promoting was really on the up-and-up, then why would they need the services of a super-villain to fake a mad bombing spree so they could play hero? When it came to super-heroes, the Trickster held every single one of them up to his standard: the Flash. And no matter what those lawyers attempted to do in that trial of his, in which the Flash was railroaded, still none of them could tarnish the reputation of that stalwart hero. The Flash would never endanger the lives of innocents just so he could get the applause for being a hero, like Abra Kadabra might have done. The Flash's only motivation was to do good.
The Trickster didn't know Green Lantern as well as his pal the original Flash, and didn't particularly want to get to know him, but he knew the Green Lantern Corps still had a headquarters in the hills outside Los Angeles. Maybe it was time to pay them a visit and warn them about this group of so-called heroes that was poised to be the next big thing.
Taking the last sip of his draft beer, the Trickster stood up and nodded over at the bartender as he made his way to the exit. He wasn't sure why he had even come here tonight. Perhaps, he thought, he was pining for the old days one last time before finally turning over a new leaf.
As he opened the door, he nearly collided with someone else. "Oh, hey, sorry pal!"
"No worries, no worries," said the other man, who looked not at all bothered but instead seemed to float on air. "Nothing can stop my winning streak!"
James Jesse frowned as he recognized him by his green and purple insect-based costume. It was the Firefly, Garfield Lynns. And as the Trickster stopped at the door and watched, he saw Lynns offer to buy a round of drinks for everyone in the bar, to great clamor and cheers. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. His suspicion about Lynns taking the job that James Jesse had turned down was virtually proven correct.
Four figures were strolling down Rodeo Drive, enjoying the Los Angeles weather in July.
"Dahhhlings, why did it take you so long to move out here to L.A.?" said Lia Briggs, a tall, gorgeous redhead wearing a light green summer dress and large sunglasses beneath a white brimmed hat. "If I'd known you were coming sooner, I would've thrown on something a bit better than these old rags."
Tatsu Yamashiro rolled her eyes, but she could tell that Gabrielle Doe was eating up every word. It was little wonder that the Japanese martial artist called Katana felt compelled to watch over her; although Gaby was now legally an adult, she possessed the innocence and naiveté of a young girl. That was why her heroic name of Halo suited her so.
"Gosh, Lia, you've always looked so beautiful, no matter what you do," said Gaby.
"Yes, about that," said Tatsu with a frown. "You never did explain just how you got your powers back, and so recently, too."
"Oh, that?" Lia said with a laugh. "Darling, my power was within me the whole time. It's within all of us, really. We just have to keep from doubting ourselves, wouldn't you agree, Wendy?"
Gabrielle's closest friend was Wendy Doe, whose true surname remained unknown. Even younger than Gaby, Wendy was better known by the name Windfall, first as a member of a super-villain team, and now as a super-heroine herself. She perked up at the mention of her name; she was used to being left to herself so much that she was at a loss for words whenever someone asked for her opinion.
"Yes," she said simply, finding approval in Gaby's eyes. Wendy looked down again when she saw that Katana was still scowling. "I mean... I wouldn't really know. I -- I've always been a bit shy."
"I understand completely, darling," Lia said, putting one arm around the girl. "I used to be just like you. That's why it's so wonderful that you're finally here in L.A., where even the shyest wallflower can reinvent herself!"
Gabrielle and Wendy giggled, and Tatsu sighed impatiently. She wasn't looking forward to the prospect of having to put up with Looker back on the team again. And don't think I didn't notice how you deflected my question, either, thought Katana. I'll get the truth out of you yet.
Suddenly, the ground was rocked by explosions. Before any of the startled women could speak, they suddenly found themselves enveloped by a green glow.
***
The Citadel, Los Angeles:
"What the--?!" cried Lia Briggs.
"Where are we?" said Gaby Doe, Wendy Doe clinging to her from behind and looking worried.
Tatsu Yamashiro had already drawn her sword and was about to attack when she saw the strange-looking alien before her. But when she saw Jeff Pierce standing in his Black Lightning outfit next to the alien, she quickly put two and two together.
"Sorry 'bout the abrupt 'port," rumbled the huge alien Green Lantern called Kilowog as he held up his glowing green ring. "You Earth poozers aren't used ta instantaneous transport, are ya?"
"Jeff, darling, I'm happy to see you," said Lia, frowning. "But a little warning would have been nice."
"Good to see you, too, Lia," said Black Lightning. "We don't have time for small talk just now, but we could really use your help -- if you're up for it!"
"Always, darling," Lia replied with a quick smile, her eyes suddenly flashing blue.
"Then suit up, everyone," said Black Lightning. "'Cause there's a mad bomber loose in this city, and there's no one better qualified than the Outsiders to bring 'im down!"
***
Minutes later, the Outsiders stood upon a rooftop as they watched a group of costumed men and women deliver the mad bomber, a super-terrorist called the Annihilator, into police custody. The Annihilator had already been cuffed with special power-dampening gauntlets purchased some time ago from the Metropolis Special Crimes Unit, or SCU.
Below, the group of new super-heroes who had stopped the Annihilator were signing autographs for an eager, adoring crowd. No one below bothered to look up to see the Outsiders as they crowded around the colorful super-team on the ground.
"Well, I wasn't expecting that," muttered Black Lightning with a frown.
"Who are those people?" asked Halo.
"And who designed those gaudy costumes?" sniffed Looker.
You're one to talk, thought Katana, remaining silent.
"Looks like nobody needed you poozers after all," observed Kilowog.
"Yep," Black Lightning said with a slight grin. "Whoever they are, they've managed to outshine the Outsiders without even knowing it." With a shrug, he added, "Well, it's not as if we expected to be the only game in town, right? Something like this was bound to happen eventually, and besides, the world could always use more heroes, right?"
But try as he might, Jefferson Pierce couldn't even convince himself with those words, let alone the others. And he certainly wasn't prepared for what they'd learn about this new team next.
***
James Jesse was troubled. The circus acrobat turned high-flying super-criminal turned stuntman and special effects artist had been trying to turn over a new leaf for a few years now. But somehow he just kept falling into circumstances that made his resolve wither away like snowfall in the spring. No, it wasn't the circumstances at all, he realized. It was the fact that he couldn't commit to staying on the straight and narrow like he sometimes wanted to. That was why, despite taking positive steps to begin an honest life, he was only able to last for a few months before falling off the wagon again. Alcohol wasn't his problem; it was the notoriety that he received for being the Trickster and outsmarting the police and any super-foes he might encounter that really gave him the same kind of thrill he'd known as a child on the high-wire trapeze.
He'd already tarnished his reputation a few times by slipping back into old habits, so much so that there weren't too many bridges left to burn. Thankfully, he still had a few friends in the business who were willing to give him a break, as long as he could stay out of the crime game for the duration of any given project.
But his old friends, the ones who were still in the game full-time, still thought of him as one of them. They kept offering him new jobs, new opportunities that tempted him to play the role of the Trickster again and again.
Yet, even after he'd backslidden a few times over the last couple of years, James Jesse still thought of himself as an honest man, someone who had reformed despite still having a few rough edges. So when he was sent a glowing green candle with a note attached from a fellow named Neron, he knew he had finally come to a point at which he'd have to make a final decision about the future of his life, once and for all. It was either accept this Neron's offer and potentially become a better version of the Trickster than he'd ever been, and accept the risks of losing his soul both metaphorically and literally, or walk away from that life for good and continue along the path of the righteous man, and accept both the difficulties of an honest life of hard work and the eventual rewards for doing right by his fellow man.
Decisions, decisions...
Of course the Trickster attended the meeting. How could he not? At the very least he wanted to see who else would be there, and who agreed to serve Neron. He didn't think of it as being that much of a big deal, really.
But as he lit the green candle at midnight on that fateful night, and found himself transported to a place that was not a place that sure had the distinctive smell of something like brimstone in the air, the full weight of what he was doing suddenly hit him full on. It was a moment of clarity, as adherents to Alcoholics Anonymous might have called it. What he was doing was foolish. What was he thinking? There was no such thing as walking between both worlds. You had to either choose the light or let the darkness absorb you. There was no in-between, and he knew he'd been fooling himself all these years thinking there was a third option.
As he looked around at all the faces of his former friends, he felt as if he was in a sea of lost souls, of blinded men and women who had no idea that they were digging their own graves by putting their destinies in Neron's hands. Their lives would be shortened drastically in some cases, and in others they might live without any thought of turning back or seeking redemption.
Not so with James Jesse. For the first time in his life he came to the realization that all of this -- God, the Devil, sin, and the spirit -- was real. It was no joke. He also knew another thing: that if he didn't make a strong effort to seize this moment of clarity and burn it into his memory, he would forget about it, and end up falling right back into his old habits.
He barely heard a thing that Neron said. All he remembered was that, when it came to the point that he was forced to make a decision whether to accept Neron's offer or turn it down, he did neither. Somehow, he skirted the question entirely, and soon found himself back on solid ground. He hadn't said yes, and he also hadn't said no.
But he had not forgotten his moment of clarity.
Still, Neron was a dirty old bastard, and along came temptation at a time before he had firmly resolved to turn his back on that old life of his. It came in the form of a seemingly legitimate job for a seemingly legitimate client.
A Hollywood producer from Verner Brothers had approached him with an unusual project. The studio had assembled a team of super-heroes that was touted to be the next big thing -- bigger than the New Teen Titans, and potentially as major as the Justice League, given enough time. But for their debut upon the world stage, they needed something splashy, something epic. They needed the world to see them perform heroic feats saving the city from a dastardly villain.
It sounded great, at least at first. Hadn't James Jesse wanted to go straight and do some good in the world? But as he started thinking about it, something about it smelled like another one of Neron's too-good-to-be-true offers.
Before he could stop himself, something in him uttered the words, "Thanks for the offer, but I'll have to pass."
He couldn't understand it himself at the time, but he shook the man's hand and watched him walk away.
And now, as he sat at the Bar Sinister watching the TV news about the mad bomber in downtown Los Angeles, he couldn't help but notice a few strange things. Those explosions sure didn't look like they were doing any damage; they looked like a flashy light-show of pyrotechnics and booming sound, but nothing of any substance. And as for that speech by the mad bomber, the Annihilator -- who spoke in such a cartoonish, corny way these days? As a longtime super-villain with a few years under his belt in special effects, the Trickster knew could tell when he was being tricked.
Now it made sense why that Verner Brothers executive had sought him out. They needed someone who knew special effects but was willing to commit a few crimes and potentially take the rap for them if the game was found out. There were a few on his mental list of suspects, but given the pyrotechnical nature of the obviously fake bombing, one stood out: Garfield Lynns.
Something else didn't sit right with him. If this new super-team that Verner Brothers was promoting was really on the up-and-up, then why would they need the services of a super-villain to fake a mad bombing spree so they could play hero? When it came to super-heroes, the Trickster held every single one of them up to his standard: the Flash. And no matter what those lawyers attempted to do in that trial of his, in which the Flash was railroaded, still none of them could tarnish the reputation of that stalwart hero. The Flash would never endanger the lives of innocents just so he could get the applause for being a hero, like Abra Kadabra might have done. The Flash's only motivation was to do good.
The Trickster didn't know Green Lantern as well as his pal the original Flash, and didn't particularly want to get to know him, but he knew the Green Lantern Corps still had a headquarters in the hills outside Los Angeles. Maybe it was time to pay them a visit and warn them about this group of so-called heroes that was poised to be the next big thing.
Taking the last sip of his draft beer, the Trickster stood up and nodded over at the bartender as he made his way to the exit. He wasn't sure why he had even come here tonight. Perhaps, he thought, he was pining for the old days one last time before finally turning over a new leaf.
As he opened the door, he nearly collided with someone else. "Oh, hey, sorry pal!"
"No worries, no worries," said the other man, who looked not at all bothered but instead seemed to float on air. "Nothing can stop my winning streak!"
James Jesse frowned as he recognized him by his green and purple insect-based costume. It was the Firefly, Garfield Lynns. And as the Trickster stopped at the door and watched, he saw Lynns offer to buy a round of drinks for everyone in the bar, to great clamor and cheers. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together. His suspicion about Lynns taking the job that James Jesse had turned down was virtually proven correct.