Titor - 10015 AD

May 21, 2015:

The other half of Titor - From the Future, in which part of the group gets thrown into the year 10015 AD and tangles with a speedster called ZTT-122

THE FUTURE

See Log.

Characters

NPCs: ZTT-122, future cops

Mentions:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

This is the place. The location given is in New York City, at the center of a less-than-busy intersection. It's almost like it was chosen for being out of the way and spacious — maybe something about that is more ominous for coming to such a roomy crossroads, on what may or may not be a mission from the future. People who received the mysterious dream-transmission start to flow into the space, as if a signal had been given.

And then — a small point of light opens in the center of the intersection, a few feet off the ground. It's like a pin-prick in the fabric of reality, light too bright to look at directly shining out of it from any angle viewed. There's an increasingly loud humming sound, ramping up dramatically in the space of a second. Then, the light explodes, like a sun igniting.

When the light fades, that intersection isn't there anymore.

Half the group is now on a broad, flat platform — more of a grate, actually, with light shining up from beneath it. The grate is made from translucent crystal. In fact, everything in the hangar-like structure is. Multiple other grates are visible all around the one the half-dozen heroes have ended up on, with a multi-tiered catwalk overhead. Light twinkles from what look like control panels and screens.

There's barely a second to breathe before around twenty black-suited figures with staves (black, chromed) barge in from multiple doorways in the "hangar," like a SWAT team. "UNAUTHORIZED TRAVELERS!" one of them roars. "DETAIN THEM! NOW!" The black-clad twentysome moves swiftly, trying to circle the group, presumably to attack!


Agent 19, Bobbi Morse of SHIELD, aka Mockingbird of the JL:A, is here because she reported her dreams to SHIELD, got it analyzed, and was sent back to check out the coordinates. As the portal opens, her goggles tint down to protect her vision and a hand, holding one of her battle staves, rises to cover her eyes. "What the -…" Then it's over, and they just aren't where they were. "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," she mutters as she blinks away the last of the spots floating in the air before her. She drops into a defensive stance, batons out, as the black clad figures rush in. "SHIELD this is Agent 19, come in," she barks into her comm. She's pretty sure they won't answer but she has to try.


My name is Barry Allen.

A few nights ago I had a pretty weird dream. This is nothing new for me—I've spent the past few years running faster than most people can think. I've seen some weird stuff and experienced some weird things. That's not the odd part.

A few months ago my girlfriend, Ronnie Hautzig, who also runs around in spandex as a hero called Eventide, got up and vanished. Now, I know what you're thinking—you're thinking I did something terrible and like cheated on her or something but I didn't. In fact, I thought things were going pretty well. But just one day, poof, no phone calls, no email, and then her phone even got disconnected. Though it wasn't clear, it seemed pretty clear if you know what I mean. Her and I were done.

So when the dream hit I didn't think much of it. I figured it was about Ronnie and some psychoanalytical bullcrap I hadn't worked out yet. Maybe her being captured by the future Flash meant I needed to let her go. Maybe I just had too much chocolate before going to bed.

But then I had a talk with my friend Kitty Pryde. She had the same dream. And the dream had coordinates that we were supposed to meet at. I'm not sure if it's even real, but I have to check it out. I have to help her if I can.

I am Barry Allen and I am the fastest man alive and I am tunnelling through light at the crossroads of my relationship/life/timespace continuum.

*

The Flash skids to a stop and nearly smashes into the side at the end of the grate, bringing up his red-clad hands just in case the friction of the floor was not enough to bring him to a stop. His head snaps around as he hears the black-clad badguys begin yelling. "Where is Eventide?!" he yells at them before planting his toe in the ground. Seriously? Seriously?

He tears away amid the crackling of lightning, trying to burrow his way through a section of them. He goes easy on those he attacks, not wanting to hurt them as he bowls them over, but wanting to get her whereabouts out of them right away.


Unlike honey badgers and people from New Jersey, Lunair do care. She also spends a good chunk of time in New York. She's listening to something on her mp3 player, quietly grooving along while she gets ready for summer clothes time! Her dreams were a little odd of late, but when you're someone who uses kidnapping as a form of transport, odd dreams are … the least of one's issues.

She too, is drawn as if by fate to the intersection. There's a pause. Something seems odd. Humming? Whoa. Light. Talk about bending the light fantastic, because that was just /nuts/.

Lunair blinks owlishly. She looks around. Did she end up in Blade Runner or something? Her headphones come off and she glances around. Wait, better armor up. A sleek suit of armor that looks suited to the time period covers Lunair, including a black folding visor (eat your heart out, Metal Gear Rising) over her face in neon blue and a stark black. "um. Hi. What?" She's lost. And unaware of this Flash business. Unlike Apple, Lunair would probably support Flash, right? Well, whatever. There's dudes with sticks (several thousand years of tech for STICKS?)


"… the actual fuck?"

Lynette Shackleford isn't dressed in spandex. Well, there might be some in the pantyhose she cut to hell and back to turn into a shirt, or the faux leather leggings gripping her legs like black silken skin, but otherwise, the girl is punked out with her junk out; a halter top designed to show off her honkers and a studded mini that, if it weren't for those leggings, would be something to be arrested for.

Lets not even talk about those heels.

Behind painted eyelids, Lynette scowls and sneers. She backs up a bit, green eyes casting around at all of the strange folk, while her hands ball up into fists. Deep in her eyes, the color of purple begins to swirl within pupils of jet black.

That can't be a good thing…


Booster Gold is looking vaguely pensive. Not in regards to the heroes around him, however, or even at the black-clad figures rushing in and yelling at them. He glances at them but his response is to make his forcefield more obviously visible around him. "Try not to hurt anyone any more than necessary. I mean… I'm mostly concerned about dropping metaphorical litter when engaging in time tourism. You get me."

The Man of Gold arches a brow as the Flash starts shouting. "Whoah, dude… it's cool, we're all cool here. We'll get this done. It's okay." Booster floats into the air, then, as a holographic screen appears near his head, giving him readouts in Interlac.


No one answers Mockingbird's comm, as predicted. Were she to consult the local library — probably not time — she'd learn that in THIS timeline, wherever it happened to branch off of the path this lot was following in the 21st century, SHIELD has been defunct for hundreds of years.

Lynwen's burst of wind does its part to separate the crowd from the approaching authority figures, and makes Booster's floating forceshield bobble a bit, which would be cute in some demographics, maybe. Barry runs clear through them, though no one seems to have an answer to his question, just confusion as he bowling-pins a bunch of them.

The future-cops are trying to take stock of the situation, when suddenly, the cool blue of the crystal architectures turns an angry, glowing red. Even with no screeching klaxon, it's clear: this is an emergency kind of thing. "What the hell?!" one cop cries.

"Whoever activated the platform didn't configure the chronology route correctly — it just blew out all the loops!" another barks. "The prisoners—"

Another cop chimes in, possibly repeating helmet radio bursts. "ZTT-122 is loose! ZTT-122 is—"

That third cop pauses awkwardly, and then his body splits in two, his torso falling off his hips as if someone just bisected him perfectly.

Barry Allen is probably the only one in the room fast enough to see it, and with Lynwen's powers working, the rest of the room might not even feel the gust of wind. But the other cops standing, they just… fall to pieces.

That's when he appears. A man, six foot eight or so, skinny almost to the point of being gaunt. He has big dark brown eyes and full lips and high aristocratic cheekbones, pale flesh, a sweep of dark hair — he looks like he should be a beautiful, tragic poet. His yellow prisoner jumpsuit has its sleeves pulled up to the elbows, revealing the lightning-bolt red scars on his forearms. Red lightning crackles around his body, and when he speaks, it dopplers in either direction. "Contamin…ants," he muses, in a silky voice.


When there is no answer over the comm, Mockingbird grimaces and she activates the taser ends of her battle staves. "Booster, any idea where we are? Who are these guys?" she calls to Gold. He is their expert on the future, sort of, isn't he? When the future cops start falling to pieces, literally, she swallows hard. "Ok, I'm no expert but that can't be good." The flashing red of the architecture bounces off her staves as she rushes towards the lanky jump suited guy, throwing one of her staves towards him, hoping the taser charge can slow him down.


"What?" the Flash says as he comes to a stop again right next to the man in gold. "Booster? What are you doing here. Glad to see ya, either way. They have Eventide." Barry doesn't stop to think about whether or not Booster knows who Ronnie Hautzig or her alter-ego are. He assumes that his tone of voice might get the message across. "You have any of that tech able to find someone from the 21st century?" he asks hopefully.

Barry goes wide eyed as men are chopped to pieces right in front of them. His eyes look upon the tall man with rage. Barry takes a step closer as if to run at him, but hesitates. No, he's got to play defense. The rest of the people here in this room may not be able to tango with this guy. He needs to run interference whenever tall and silky makes his move. "Boo," the Flash says as he imperceptibly twists his foot into the flooring to make sure he gets a good jump. "Tell me you got something goodf or this guy."

From the corner of his eye he sees Mockingbird make her move and he readies himself for the reaction.


Well, Lunair is being polite to the future cops. No need to be rude. She is after all, trying to avoid time dickery. No one likes a time dick. She blinks at the cops beneath her visor and then some of them get bowling-pinned. And is that a bobbling forcefield? That is ADORABLE. Though, at the sound of the klaxon, her helmeted head looks upwards.

"Oh dear." That's not good. And then the dude just falls apart. Literally (and that's actually an appropriate use of literally. Go team). Her mouth opens, then closes. And then all of a sudden, Oscar Wilde gone Wild turns up. "… your face is a contaminant!" This is why Lunair is banned from combat dialogue forever. "wait, nevermind that was kind of rude." Then Mockingbird is doing her thing and it's time for Lunair to call up a railgun. She's gonna have to aim carefully. "Whoa, the Flash." Cool. But um. yeah.


The Druid or Lynwen is wide eye and staring armored men as they are chopped to pieces. She continues to chant, the wind remains held in place heeding her call. She is not in tune with this world because of that beads of sweat begin to form on her brow. The screeching and the red glowing crystals have her squinting and there is a pained look on her face. She stops chanting for a moment and calls out a sharp command in that strange tongue the bracers, torque and hair clasps begin to glow bright like the sun. A sharp looking spear of ice appears in her hand. She is frowning and she begins to chant again. The remains at her at her command.


"Mockingbird, we're in year One-Hundred Fifteen, Common Era", Booster says, a fingertip to his holoscreen. "This is the Chronological Center which explains," he waves a hand at the platform and surroundings. "This. Uh—holy gosh!" His data recitation stops dead as the various guards also stop dead.

Dropping out of the air to stand closer to Mockingbird, in case he needs to bring her or anyone else into his forcefield, Booster says to the Flash, "Dude, I think this guy is more your speed, if you get me. But yes, I can track someone by their chronal signature." He was not concerned by the threat posed by the guards in black, but this new guy clearly worries him.


ZTT-122, the man in yellow, continues to regard the group. When Mockingbird throws her stave, he catches it. It's not like seeing his hand swing out and catch it — he's fast. Like, Flash fast. Suddenly his hand is just there, gripping the weapon, though it does give him a nasty jolt. He cries out and drops the stick.

His voice is still dopplered, as ZTT-122 says, "I don't like… to kill people. It's nasty… nasty business." He lifts the palm shocked by Mockingbird's stave, and licks it, slowly, maybe sensually. "Twenty-first century boys and girls… like the mud the timestream tracked in. There was another one of you, wasn't there? Titor's little… lap… dog…"

ZTT-122 is vibrating. He's making a hundred moves a second but not actually going anywhere. It makes him look like a hummingbird's wing. "The question is… if I don't kill you… what do I do with you?" Then, without warning, ZTT-122 surges forward, toward Lunair — Barry's fast enough to intercept in time, but there's also probably time to squeeze off a rail gun shot, or throw an ice spear—!


"Common Era? What the hell year is it in AD, Booster!?" Mockingbird shouts back at the blue and gold Avenger. "And when did we start building everything like we're giant Doozers?" she asks. Fraggle Rock may be lost on Gold. Her attention then turns fully on the clear and present danger and she opens up her book of insults to get his attention. "Hey, LURCH! Over here. Looks like you need to be given some safety scissors and a time out in the corner!" When he moves, she leaps far and rolls, sweeping up her fallen baton and tossing the other one towards Barry. "I can't keep up, but you can. It's charged!"


"Right," Flash says in response to Booster Gold. "Maybe I'll take the guy in yellow and you go find Ronnie." If everyone got the same dream then they already now that Tider is Ronnie so there.

When ZT Bad Guy catches Mockingbird's first stave, Flash watches him, reading. Now that he's making his move, he darts towards an interception, reaching his hand back in the air to catch Mockingbird's charged baton, just in time to take a shot towards Big, Tall, and Lanky's cranium


In all fairness to ZTT, Lunair is the one with the huge railgun. She hates fighting speedsters, she really does. They're difficult to fight at best. They're impossible at worst. "Okay, I'm not one to kinkshame, but that was just weird," Lunair blinks behin the black visor of her helmet at ZTT-122. She'll take a pot shot with the rail gun at him before Flash or Mockingbird get close enough to make it an impossibility.

It's not like she can just dodge the lunge. Because he's just that damn fast. Does he see the astral plane?


Lynwen's English is horrid and honestly nonexistent. She many not know what is being said but she understands intent and body language and the man coming towards her is her target. She is still chanting and holding that spear. Quickly as if she is hunting boor or fighting those from her own time, the woman from the 400's sends the spear flying towards the obviously troubled speed man from the future. She is aiming to for his thigh to slow him down and cause him to leave a blood trail if he chooses to flee. This happens just as the gun Lunair is firing goes off.


"Same diff, Mockingbird! Very, very far into the future from where we started, let's put it that way," Booster says, and now he has three holopanels floating before him. Rapid data gathering is really Oracle's purview, but he is doing his best. "I don't think she's here, Flash, but… ugh." One thing at a time. A fourth holoscreen pops up.

"This dude," Booster gestures towards the flickering figure in yellow, "ZTT-122, speedster, imprisoned here until…" Both hands flick around now indicating the platform and dead guards. "Dude who put him in here was JTT-0 Titor, also a speedster, who is also the dude who rescued a Veronica… just guessing that's Ronnie, because she's from your native era." Once he gets all of this out in a rush, three of the holoscreens vanish. "But… if she isn't here, then I don't know who transported us…"


ZTT-122 is big. He's tall and skinny and he's TALL, like really tall. He has reach advantage. He's almost got is hand around Lunair's throat by the time her finger finishes firing the railgun.

This happens just as an ice spear is thrown and the Flash himself comes in with a stun baton. There must be some kind of force protecting ZTT-122 from impacts at super-duper speed, because the railgun projectile hits him in the stomach and almost bowls him off of his feet, making the ice spear miss and sink into his side — though Flash is dead on with tazing ZTT right between the eyes.

"HAAAAAAANNNNNNHHHHHH!" the yellow-garbed speedster cries out, stumbling backwards, unsure whether to clutch his skull or his wounded side. One hand jerks down to the spear, and in the blink of an eye the ice spear is just steam, but the bleeding wound remains.

"I could use this platform now," ZTT-122 says, voice vibrating this way and that. "I could go to where you live… I could run… wild. Like Titor. Just like Titor. They don't believe me. But I know. He's not the hero that he says he is. Taking… pets out of time. But if he's the villain… then I'm the hero… and what does that make all of you?" ZTT's hand stays clamped over his side, though the bleeding doesn't seem particularly life-threatening.


"And who is going to get us back home?!" Mockingbird adds to Booster's question about their mysterious transporter. "Not that I wouldn't love to go all 'Back to the Future' and get a hold of one of those sports almanacs to make a zillion dollars in the past. But I'm guessing we won't be taking any sort of bus tour of this place." With the other baton recharged she tosses it to Barry as she barks back at ZTT-122, "Hey well, so far you're the only one here slicing people like you're a walking Ginsu commercial, pal!"


"Well," Barry says as he stands over him with stun baton in hand. "It makes you a murderer. And it makes us about to be late. Who is Titor and where is Eventide?"

The Flash looks over his shoulder back towards Booster, "Can you find out where this Titor person is?"


Hrk. Lunair squeaks inside of her suit. Oh man. Why do speedsters always try to grab you!? Lunair is relieved as he gets nailed in the forehead and her railgun does… a lot less damage than she was hoping. "Your platform? Um. You're- dude, you're killing cops and trying to kill us. I want to go /home/," She protests to the yellow garbed speedster. She's got no clue how to get home precisely. "And what do you mean taking pets out of time?"


Wide eyed Lynwen does the only she can do and that is observe, when the ice spear hits his side and then melts she looks at him curiously. She stops chanting and creates another with the same sharp command that has her heavy gold jewelry glowing as bright as the sun. With the command given she begins to chant again. She pulls her gaze away from the speed melting ice spear future man to look at the others who arrived with her quickly. Her gaze then goes back to the man. She is still chanting and wind is still there. Sweat starts to drip down the end of her nose.


"Mockingbird, don't worry about getting back. I can handle that. Frankly that's the easy part in all of this." Booster Gold is working frantically, now with two holoscreens. Compared to the era they are currently in, Booster's technology is ancient; however, it is also remarkably advanced even for the times in which it was made, and some is of alien origin. That helps, at least a little bit. "Uh, uh, okay, uh…" He taps into what he can with regards to local media and law enforcement signals, which is unhelpful.

Rubbing his hands over his face, eyes shut behind his visor, Booster murmurs, "Okay. Okay. He took Veronica out of the timestream so even though this is his native era, he'll have excess temporal energy… can map that and trace it…" And after a few beats, he says, "…no, he's not here. I mean here at all, as in, this era." Actually turning his back on the combat, Booster crouches down and puts one hand on the platform floor, as if he were feeling for something. "No. Titor went into the timestream…" He looks back over his shoulder, and there is a faint glow in his eyes. "ZTT-122, Titor put you into stasis here. What was your crime?"


"They're barely people," ZTT-122 says to Mockingbird, dryly. "Oh! I'm sorry. Do they not grow cops from vats of stem cells in the dark ages?" ZTT makes no move to go back on the offensive. Maybe he lost his taste for it, now that he's been shot and stabbed and tazed in the brain.

"My crime was being born too beautiful, Bubble Blonde," ZTT replies with a slow, creepy smile. "Crime. Meaningless word. And Titor's pets… well… why else bring a twenty-first century woman here, if not to keep her docile… and away from the man who Titor really WANTS to be?" ZTT looks right at Barry as he says that, and winks.

"But like I said. I'm the hero now. And you're all the damsels in distress. You know, they think I don't know this. Platform 4A. Re-route, activation code G-L-S-I-T-F-1-A-B-B-B. I think you all might want to stay on the ride."

The grate beneath the heroes starts to glow once again — anyone who's not over it has a second to get back on while it hums. "I wonder what diseases you all brought here, that you've already breathed back into circulation," is what ZTT says with a weak laugh as the light gets WAY too bright, and the platform bundles the heroes back—

Back, to the future! Er, the past. Back to 2015.


"I don't think I like this future very much," Mockingbird mutters as she moves to stand guard in front of Lynwen. Whatever the strange woman did had an impact on the speedster, so good to keep her alive. Then there is light and change and they're back home again. "Crap." That's pretty succinct.


"No! Ronnie!" Flash exclaims. Things are moving too quickly for him to follow, but as they begin to head back he can feel his chance at finding her slipping away.


Poor Flash. Poor Ronnie. Lunair is confused. "I was expecting more sex bots, myself," Lunair admits. "I figure that'd be one of humanity's FIRST inventions if the internet's any indication," She ponders this. "That makes my brain hurt." Lunair decides not to think about it or how she almost totally got owned by a random speedster (why do they get to be so cool!?). She looks to Mockingbird and Lynwen. "Are you guys okay?" And then - home again, home again. "…" Lunair fishes in her pocket, pulls out an orange bottle of pills, squints at the label and promptly chucks the bottle into the trash.


It moves and Lynwen slides her feet into a different stance to help her keep her balance for a moment she looks like she is going to panic but she notices the others are not and she manages to keep herself in control. The Druid looks at Mockingbird who is guarding and offers her a nod of her head. All traces of panic are gone. When Lunair says something she understands her eyes light up and she responds back. Her words are carefully chosen and they are heavily accented, "I am well, thank you. How are you?" Her gaze then goes to the others. "Are all of you okay?"


Booster puts his hand up, towards the Flash, hoping to keep him on the platform as they get transported. "No, wait. We're going in the right direction, I think… because I think I'm starting to get a lock on Titor, he didn't just hop into the timestream, he went back to then. I mean, now." There is a pause, because even Booster knows that 21st century English makes time-travel talk confusing and awkward. "Your now." Okay, that did not clarify anything so he just moves on. "The news said that Titor rescued Veronica. I'm sure Titor pulled her from the timestream but I think 'rescue' is what a spin doctor came up with."


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License