Bilateral Banishments

May 12, 2018:

Amora is hunted inside the Hall of Justice, the League rallies in her defense and the Martian Manhunter makes a return.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

The Hall of Justice, outside the medlab —-

The young woman shakes her head again a Hal, he has lost count of how many times shes done that to him now. At first it was cute, the whole fangirl thing, then he opened his mouth and she realized the Green Lantern is just like any other man.

"Well, mister Lantern, I really do have to get back to work. This is volunteer and STAR Labs is not! I hope you understand." She smiles. Hal knows that smile.

"Groovy, I mean, you're cool. Go ahead. I'll be around another time." He wasn't even trying to pick her up. That one stings. As shes striding off he murmurs a, "You're losing your game man. Shut down and not even taking the shot." In his own disbelief he finds himself further stricken by it when John in human disguise is visible, just striding on through the Halls like he forgot where he was.

"Hey uh… that you, man?" A query that sounds uncertan as the question from the tall brunette sky jockey.

Elsewhere… REALMS away yet… a thread is tugged again, a green flame laced opposite a silvery red, it pierces the dimensions, a tether. A visage in darkness turns to look over black enshrouded entities, they huddle together, breathing together, shared excitement as they know the hunt has picked up again.

A creature stands apart from them, seated with one leg over the other. A pair of white slacks, a buttoned up pink shirt underneath and a white suit jacket, barefoot, claw-toed, a grinning face looks at the ONE with the long fingers wrapped around the 'cord', glowing eyes and a digitized face regards a new ally and old enemy.

"So, Dark Elf? You about to play more of your hand in this grand game?"

"You talk to much trickster-/thing/, just watch." Malekith responds to the 'godling'.

A parting of the black sea of bodies, a new thing stands upright, armored like a chitonous beetle an Asgardian wrapped in metal slams a shield against an axe. Eager it appears.

"Time to cut the witch out of the game." Malekith says gloating with his intent.

%rJ'onn's gaze — not red, but a dark, very-human, brown in his form — settle on Hal Jordan. Something flickers in his eyes — not recognition or welcome, exactly, but a facsimile thereof — recognized-but-not, pretending otherwise. He struggles for a name, and more than that — a familiar greeting that won't be taken amiss, falls short, and settles for: "Hal Jordan." A statement of name, true enough, even if perhaps not sufficient.

His hands remain clasped behind his back — that's familiar — but also so there's no confusion about whether a hand should be offered or not.

"It is me. I'm—" back, but the word doesn't make it past his thoughts, certainly not voiced aloud. Is he back? Even he doesn't know, not yet. "I felt a need," John Jones states, instead.

His head turns towards the medbay — not because of any noise — but something more. Something that draws a twitched furrow of brow across the human-looking Martian's forehead as he exhales, senses the familiar-but-not. A vexing feeling for a being used to knowing much, undoubtedly.

"Thank you. I think that I can find my way." Not that that's actually going to happen, whether or not she claimed to have been vouched for by the Themysciran Embassy. Still, Donna at least has the decorum not to argue, as one of the many members of what security the hall employed continued to lead her through the facility heading towards the labs, and more specifically, the morgue where the bodies of the dead were being kept until they could be processed and turned over to the Amazons.

Diana might have given permission for the league to study the bodies and even allowed them a few days to do so, but the rites still needed to be performed. The dead still needed to be prepared to be laid to rest. And so, she had come, because it was right and proper to do so. She came in her armor, made of that cloth that seem to hold all of the universe of stars in it, no weapons, but with her lasso. There would be more than enough time for Donna Troy to hide what and who she was. But not today. She carried with her a box full of the implements she would need to perform the necessary respects to the dead. One familiar figure she can see ahead, and one a stranger. But as she's not the one leading, she can only follow in that direction.

So many /promises/ made… Forgotten, but the binding is eternal to ones that carry that rite, and between the lacing of clutching fingers slivers of light streak through the tentacle-like grip!

For a moment, as the woman (sooo not) under Hal's "swagger" walks off, and John Jones joins, it seems still behind them, behind airlock doors to the Medbay, but then that strobe effect overpowers the grip and casts the hall behind sealed doors in a flickering of light and darkness between!

"Everything I worked for…" Amora's lips part in a gasp, but speak hoarsely as she rises from the hospice gourney. (Not a bed, she will eternally refute that claim!) "I made a champion, a /hirda!/, and you ruined my Siege!"

Amora drops to the ground, hunched at first, and even though breathing had hurt before, her teeth are visible in the Cheshire grin and narrowed Absinthe glowing gaze that rises. "But I his true weapon…" A spit to the side…!

And even as the REALMS begin to tear asunder and make a path through the Veils a concussive force blasts Amora through her Med Room door and into the hall in a burst of light and the hinges… as well as the frame itself!

"I warned you…" A breath. "I tried!" A gasp. "Protect this body, at least… and your home." Amora is pulling herself from the rubble, clothed in mere tatters now as a light witheld in one palm is pulsing rapidly in breaks of an unrisen sun, looking to Hal and John…. J'onn?:

His mind is felt within her own, the /care/ in his query through the mental touch.

He can see it, a fissure, deep, dark, wide… Akin to the stone she is clutching together in her hand from the chain about her neck.

Amora looks away, her warning given.

"Damn, it is good to see you again." Jordan strides over and in a rather jovial manner claps John on the shoulder and takes his hand in a quick shake and fist bump. Even if he is forcing it on the other man. Who, if he doesn't wish to budge. Definitely will not.

"Hey, you don't need to explain it to me. I… know what you were going through. If you need someone to talk to though, " A shrug and he steps back, just enough to regard him again, "You didn't catch that conversation with Courtney there and I did you? Not my best effort. Hell, not effort at all… painful." A subject hop, not because Hal isn't aware Jonn may be going through a 'thing' but because, he is a /dude/.

Donna is sighted right beyond J'onn, Hal's hand rises up as if to give her an acknowledgement before the doors of the medbay are THROWN outwards from within, where Amora has been held/being monitored.

All words cut off and he spins to face down what is happening, only to see debris and dust clearing away, revealing the woma on the ground, warning or pleading he cannot tell. Hes not seen the Asgardian Witch this low before…

Elsewhere… A rip through the 'Veil' a peeling outwards and the dimensional tear creates itself, through the Hall of Justice' own mystical wardings and barriers. The point for the entry? Amora's own signature. The crack that was put in her 'bound amulet', it was corrupted and spiked with enough for this right here to happen. It is an incredible amount of power exerted to erect an immediate portal like this. Which is why the strange trickster-entity is present along with them in their hidden Dark realm beyond.

"Go!" Commands the sorcerer who has created this design. That armored form lurches forward, throws itself for the gateway and is hurled through time-space-reality to the very center of the medbay. Behind it, upon arrival that gate to it's masters shuts. Snapping back out of existence as quickly as it had come. The medlabs contents in absolute disarray, the ground under the portal's 'touchdownpoint' a crater in flooring and stone underneath, spider-webbed outwards in glowing purple-pink lines of eldritch energy.

J'onn reacts, at first, with a hint of surprise, but he is attempting to 'go with the flow' as it were — the shoulder-clasp from Hal earning a nod in return, and a half-hearted (faltering) attempt at a fist-bump that feels like that first time when you awkwardly mis-time it with someone you usually don't do it with. "Thank you," he replies, and there is genuine sentiment in the Martian's tone, gratitude for the offer. "Perhaps I will take you up on that, but…" Not now.

Surely, a friend would pretend not to hear the awkward trip-and-fall of a conversation Hal just had with Courtney, but J'onn? He states, "It seems that she is onto you, my friend." His gaze shifts to the approaching woman and her escort, even gaze trying to read whether there's any familiarity in her look.

And then darkness-and-light strobe between them, the air filled with dust and debris.

J'onn is still, for a few heartbeats — his all-too-human looking gaze fixed on Amora as the enchantress goes flying across the room. And then his lips part, a sound escaping his throat, an echo of pain or something greater as for a moment, his thoughts are drawn in, down into that deep, dark fissure. Before he is pulled in, pulled under — he retreats with a speed that rocks him, for a moment.

The usually stoic Martian Manhunter looks unusually, humanly ill-at-ease. "Hal, something is amiss." Besides the fact that Amora just went flying across the hall, presumably. "She's—" he breaks off, abruptly. No time to explain — he simply moves, planting himself between Amora and whatever comes forth through that tear. A physical, 'if you want her, you have to go through me' stance. It doesn't look that impressive — he's just a human, or looks like one — but there's a stoic set to his posture that suggests he knows exactly what he's doing.

Alyse had arrived at the hall, she had her own task with the dead to see what secrets they might be willing to share through psychometry while Donna performed their rites to pass on. But…things don't quite go as planned. When did they ever do that? The sudden surge of eldritch energy was more than enough to set of alarm bells in the Witch's senses and her pace breaks into a more rapid stride. Gold lights flutter around her, engulfing the woman's form before she steps out of the shroud wrapped in her 'sorceress' gown, rounding the corner to the chaos and frowning.

What in the world was going on?"

+MEET: You offer to meet Batman.

There is a moment, if a brief one, when the thought does flash through Donna Troy's mind. Something along the lines of…'of course something would explode just when I'm wanting to head in that direction.' Why? because clearly, it's always a party, of the worst sort, when Donna Troy is in the building. Still, that thought barely registers. What does register is the smoke, and the dust, and the sudden spark of magic from the woman beside her. The sense of danger. Which, she, of course, heads towards, at speed, barely a step or two behind Alyse.

Amora's eyes are not the same, they flicker like the Berkana stone clutched in her grasp, and even as the crags bite into her palm there is a Will that keeps One, holding on..

Through the flickering light projected around the hall and the falling door-frame something else tears open a Gate Between Realms, a shadow forming in the opening that is almost Demonic in build and the silhouette he casts with that massive Axe at it's side, as layered as the armor over a form that was once… "human" seeming.

Those eyes are changing, even through the stobe effect her hair is darkening from blonde to brunette, fading, highlighting the change, the Truth - The Lies. "He does not have the Sigrnir," A low whisper as lips peel back from teeth and when J'onn steps boldly between the Asgardian woman falters to look back at Hal - defiant, Donna - Questioning, Astrea - Grinnin—-

John's back is regarded and her hand grips his wrist, those bejeweled talons shattering on impact (if made!) to try and draw him back towards his Allies!

"Shove him back… not ready…" A rise of fingers and the magic is but mere sparklers instead of fireworks, the Battle of Wills failing!

The Green Lantern is aware of Witchdoctor joining the gathering, probably called by the bursting of mystical wards laced throughout this place. Doctor Strange puts the biggest ones down but the other magical types of the League are encouraged to entertain additional ones, overlap, lace, make it one of the safest places in the world from outside 'evil magick' assault.

Hal knows jack about magic. Other than it is always a headache.

"Shove? We'll do more than that." Despite the fact John Jones looks like just a guy Lantern doesn't put himself over to help Amora the Enchantress and her strange illusiory on and off dye job thats happening.

Instead, the Green Lantern creates a Volvo sized boxing glove and it swings at the thorny armored dimensional invader from Mordor.

The armored figure stands perfectly still in it's crater, collecting itself and finding it's target, those glowing red eyes beyond a black covered helmet latch upon Amora, then upon Martian Manhunter. Absolute static radiates from it's mind, null and nothing. There is zero in it's gaze that makes sense. A void of dark empty.

Fully plate armor of pitch black, laced in spikes and spines. It's shield hefts up and aims directs it's flat side towards them, an eye opening in the center of it to swivel left, right all around and then at Donna, it begins to glow. Starts to flare up a brilliant hellfire orange.

Alarms throughout the Hall of Justice have non-combatants fleeing, doorways auto bolting shut and sends of emergency being tossed out to all Leaguers who can respond…

Magic or not, Alyse didn't exactly immediately know what the hell she was looking at. But invading armored figure with a massive axe? Probably wasn't a good sign. Energy crackles between her fingers, dancing over her form but yet to be released as she moves forwards with a frown. She's yet to attack, unsure of what they face and equally unwanting to incinerate someone in the field of fire, but her gaze flicks to Hal and to Donna both. She recognized neither Amora nor Jonn in this moment after all.

What in the world was going on?

For a moment, J'onn staggers, even though nothing has impacted him. He squares his shoulders, grimacing, a glance cast over his shoulder as a thought speeds mentally towards the Asgardian woman. «Fight, Amora of Asgard!» It is a command, both imploring and inexorable, crashing against the wall she puts up. But he takes the warning to heart — doesn't seek to invade the wall she places between them, even if his instincts dictate otherwise.

Instead, his gaze and attention turns to the invading creature. J'onn has seen many things over his thousands of years — battled many evils, both won and lost. Fear does not enter his demeanor, but something other — respect, maybe? Wariness? But none of those deter the man… the Martian. For it's at that moment that John Jones' form shifts, growing taller — skin lightening to green, eyes lightening to red, assuming his true form.

Just as the Green Lantern swings a glove at the entity, J'onn uses his telekinesis to lift some of the debris from around Amora — the wreckage of the medbay door and part of the wall, and flings it forward at the invader.

Such a move is just an opening, though. He takes a step forward… and then Amora's hand alights on his wrist, pulling him back.

All those here who know the Martian Manhunter knows he is a man of general stoicness, his demeanor one of calm and rationality. Some might remember a time, not too long ago, during his infiltration of the Red Lanterns, where he was anything but. There's some echo of that rage he felt in the sudden wordless snarl that passes his expression, before he snaps back his control.

But the distraction serves its purpose, anyway — he is looking at Amora — not at the creature which comes through.

In the runup towards the scene of the chaos, Donna has to duck and weave, moving around and through the people, rightly, fleeing, probably for their lives. She does not, however, have that luxury, especially when she sees Alyse begin to craft her magicks. She picks up speed, moving now faster than human, doing, much as J'onn himself has done for the woman on the ground, putting herself between Alyse and the oncoming threat. Even the sight of that circle of hellfire opening on the creature's shield does not deter her, rather, she takes it as, morbidly, her due that the creature has, for the time being, seemed to target her and not the others. She raises her left arm, her will casting a shield of invisible force ahead and in front of her.

That emerald hardlight glove pounds in to the creature's left flank causing it to stagger several steps but that shield doesn't redirect it's attack on Donna or anything beyond her, a wash of eldritch fire pours from the gaze directly at the otherworldly Amazon. Asgardian magics, dark magics and fire from realms beyond channeled through that grotesque and garish looking armor piece.

The axe in it's hand sweeps upwards, the motion alone causes a ripple off pure force through the air and a shockwave that booms out, a 'slice' of just the wind lances forth at the Amora and J'onn Jonns.

"It is ignoring me!" Green Lantern shouts as his glove rebounds free. "Witchdoctor, does this thing look familiar to that fairy brain of yours!?"

He had been in the Watchtower when the alarm sounded, so it doesn't take long for Batman to head down via the teleporter up there. The black and red suited Dark Knight steps out of a tube, red lensed eyes narrowing slightly as he hears the commotion, and starts to head for the main hall. Looks like technological installation will have to wait.

It only takes him a few seconds to get there, his cape fluttering with his movement, before he stops just outside of line of sight to get a better idea of what's going on… and another second before batarangs are thrown around the corner at perceived weak spots in the armor, attempting to get their new 'guest' off-balance for the others. His eyes quickly going to Amora as she is noticed in the chaos. "What's the situation?" Batman inquires with that calm, controlled tone he takes on in the middle of a fight.

It is clear, now, what the otherworldly creature seeks, as the wind whips past J'onn, whipping his purple cape into a frenzy behind him. "It wants her. We need to drive it back some how." J'onn states, without looking towards Batman, his gaze instead on Amora.

He cannot see the axe — his back to the creature — but J'onn feels that imminent threat all the same. In a second, he's not fighting Amora's grasp, but stepping into it, throwing an arm around her and seeking to lift her wholesale, muscles barely needing to stretch to carry the Asgardian Enchantress in his arms. And then he's moving, fast, seeking to get distance from the creature.

If you can't move the mountain, well… he intends to get the target out of the way of that descending axe.

Alyse…doesn't really have the luxury of stopping to analyze the creature in great detail, so Hal's question isn't really answered. If recognition strikes her? She'll speak up. For now? The woman reaches past Donna's shielding form as J'onn scopes up Amora's form and pulls her clear. Perfect. The rush of mystically charged lightning leaps from her fingers, her spell slamming into the metallic figure. Drive it back? That she could wrap her brain around easy enough.

The Batman arrives? His question is answered rather simply by the Witch in the gown. "Big, metal, angry." More than that? It would have to be spoken by someone not currently channeling destructive mystic energy.

As the blast lances out towards her, the force shield ahead of her comes into focus. Visible, not because it gains substance, but rather, because its outlines are marked by the wash of flame that hits it, flaring across it as she shifts her body, angling the shield to deflect the flame away from the other living beings in the hall.

As Alyse leaps into the fray, the two women seem to work in perfect concert, Alyse's lighting joining the javelin of concussive force Donna gathers in her right hand, throwing it as cleanly and as precisely as if it were real. Donna does not, however, stop her advance, seeming intent on trapping the thing, and possibly herself, in the remains of the medlab.

"What she said." Hal responds loudly to Batman after Witchdoctor's quick summary.

There are green objects appearing around him, birds? No. Tiny fighter jets and theyre kamikaze soaring in to the Metal Menace, slamming in with impact and timed with Batarangs.

The shield turns away, that fiery blaze cutting off as it come up to block the pelting attacks. Over it's top rim the javelin hits home, a CLAK noise audible as electricity ripples around it and ignites with a surge. The entire creature shudders once then steps forward, towards them, it's axe swinging out again to rip another slice of torrenting and damaging wind through the air, it is lik an invisible blade at an extended reach, each cut tears through walls of the Hall.

It's at least barely made progress in mobility, J'onn and Amora are not obstructed in retreat. The League is doing well enough so far in holding it back. Or so it appears.

Pulling out one of his extended grapnel gun from his utility belt, Batman launches a line at the roof, zipping into the air. Watching that Metal Monstrosity, Batman calculates on the fly how much force is needed to get his momentum going enough to hurl himself over the creature… and releases his grip from the grapnel just in time to attempt to get behind the creature, pulling out gripped Batarangs from his belt as he goes, moving try to land precision blows from behind to both distract and subdue the creature.

Armor always has thinner joints to be able to move in it. He just needs to drive into those points.

It is a hard thing, indeed, to turn for hero, let alone J'onn, to turn his back on a fight, when every \part of of him screams to throw himself into the fray alongside his fellow Justice League members and allies. Retreat is not in his nature, but protection of a life… that is very much so. And so, against instinct, he carries Amora down the long hall, further from the medbay entrance where the creature is.

Besides, there is another battle that goes on, in the head of the woman he carries to safety. The green-skinned Martian stumbles to a halt, stops and drops to a knee, at the sensation of her slipping free, though his grip seeks to tighten, as the battle continues behind them.

J'onn seeks that thread of hope he felt earlier in the Enchantress' thoughts, fuels it with more. «They fight for you,» his thoughts are soft, full of a warmth little apparent in his spoken word and stoic physical demeanor. Images, flickered, of the various heroes tackling the otherworldly creature that seeks her life. «Let them. Now you must fight, for yourself, Amora of Asgard.»

There was more to this thing than meets the eyes for Alyse, more than she could explain and certainly more than she could even know in this moment, but she knew enough to realise her current attack wasn't the right way to go about this battle. A curse under her breath, the Witch who'd been moving forwards now takes a step back and extends her arms outwards, those swirling lights now surging into bright circles of light and symbols, deep gold in color, yet certainly more wild and practically pulsing with 'life' when compared to Strange's own spellwork. It was like a different language, but the 'meaning' was the same. "Hold him back!" she calls over the sounds of battle while she works on her spell. Not destructive this time, but a banishment, a 'severing' of sorts that seemed to compound with the Enchantress own efforts.

"Be gone from here…" she speaks softly, yet there's a noticable echo behind those otherwise quiet words that hums with power.

'Hold him back?' That Donna can do. And so she attempts to do. She doesn't look to the left or right, makes no attempt to mark whether or not any of the other allied forces in the hall have advanced. She only used the sudden arrival of the black-caped figure to her advantage. As the Batman pressed the attack from the back, Donna surged forward, the shield expanding ahead of her, the force of her strength attempting to turn it into a battering ram. To trap the enemy between her attack and the Batman's.

A whisper at first as blonde flickers to a dark brunette, a fight, nearly a writhe in J'onn's grasp. "PUSH, witch!" A look to Alyse as an ethereal flame is flasing in 'Amora's' eyes, just like her physicality in Jonn's grasp.

"Brute force." A pause, a glance to Donna and Hal. "Get Real." A hint from past between the Lantern, but one that can clue in also the Amazonian. "Promises cannot be broken…" A beat. "Hiket…"

Batman impacts the One in the Kurse, once Siege to Amora… Once…

J'onn's grip keeps *Her* from joining the fight, but as one is held, white sand slips free between his fingers, leaving him holding a Strange Figure, her grasp slowly slipping to fall while the Sands slip througn fingers and blast outward like shards of glass!

A SCREAM can be heard! A residual wave of pain, anger, loss… If there was a Chess Board it would be flipped in the residual hissy-fit, but instead there is a backing to Alyse's push towards the Kurse, all the while a palm laden in armor now presses against J'onn's chest and the heel thrusts him back! a seek of release… That leaves the Brunette Asgardian upon the ground if successful.

"Get physical, Friends, let the Witch have the winds." To Hal, J'onn, Donna, Batman, - although those eyes of flickering blue/green are crossing in her stance. She sounds almost drunk??

"His Axe is Falsehood!" A draw of one hand in a segmented gauntlet that shatters upon the final burst of the Berkana Stone at her neck!

The body that falters…

The *essence* that rips from it and asides with them for that moment of RAGE!~

Is split in twine.

The Batman is swift, an effective fighter, arguably one of the best in all the world. Unfortunately he is a mere mortal in the shadow of what may be a God, the strikes land, they hit home an they do little to show on the armored combatant, it actually begins to develop a glowing energy nimbus of crackling flame, the heat rising off of it. It appears futile in all of these attacks until one batarang goes deep, pushes between a shoulder joint and arm, meat. Batman can feel the stab in just barely but the density is amazing, hes felt similar in the likes of metahumans such as Wonder Woman or Aquaman.

The banishment spell short, quick cast and dropping in a wash of light over the attacker causes it to throw it's shield up defensively, the eye on it swiveling around madly, swirling before an actual shriek escapes it. No mouth but it releases a 'wail' then vanishes leaving the villain empty handed. Where there was defensive shield, now there is a vambrace of armor and fingers groping at empty.

A thud of Donna and the ground quakes, that batarang Batman thrust in goes deeper as the being is rammed back, it staggers several steps then plants, its strength equal to if not greater than the Amazons, the red eyed visor slit turns to face Donna, a growling noise rumbles out of it and a knee thrusts up at her midriff. It's weapon bare hand going for a tangle of her hair.

The axe unlike the shield remains but with the proximity of the Amazon it is unable to swing in or make further attacks at J'onn and Amora's retreating selves.

Jordan like Donna descends in a slam of his own, hitting it from the other side, going lower as his shoulders hit it's abdomen and arms loop around it's waist. Amora's words either heard or this is just the League in action.

For a moment, J'onn's so surprised by the presence of the strange figure that lies in his arms that all he does is stare at her, his thoughts reaching out — but tentatively, like that well of darkness he felt before is not something he cares to dip into so carelessly this time.

The attempt is interrupted as Amora abruptly pushes him back, arms releasing her, cloak whipping around him for a moment as he slides across the ground, a few feet from her. Red eyes fix on her for a moment, seeking truth in the gaze, seeking to know which 'one' speaks.

Perhaps he finds what he seeks, for seconds later, the Martian turns, launching forward in a volley of speed as he flies directly towards the creature, fists held out in front of him. She wants physical? He can do that, his speed generating energy, using all of it to 'punch' with his entire weight towards the thing, a physical battering ram providing extra force to Donna's shield.

Since he's not being attack yet, Batman can only assume he's not hitting the right places.

Time to fix that.

The gripped batarangs are reversed, serrated edges being popped out as he studies his opponents back. A tear here, a hole there. He uses his considerable martial and medical expertise, searching out the weak points that actually do any real damage to the armored creature… and he lays into them, giving support to Donna and the rest as they drive it back towards him. Hopefully, this thing isn't as tough as an Asgardian…

This would not be the first time that Donna has launched herself against a superior enemy. And, the gods willing it would not be the last. But that is a thought for the future. In the present, in the //now/, all she can focus on is the enemy in front of her, now shield-less, but pressing the advantage its proximity to her allowed it. She moves with that fluid grace all Amazons seem to be gifted with, bringing the shield down to counter the knee, which leaves her face exposed. All the better, as it also gives her room and license to aim a closed fist at its face, a strike with all of her considerable strength behind it. If it does grab her hair, well, she'll know it fights like a girl. Ahem.

Alyse was focused on a single task, her banishment spell, but she was focused on it entirely. Her entire form sparks with light that flies from her circle's of power, her eyes glow a deep gold. There was a lot of magic in the Fae Witch, and she was pouring quite a bit of it into trying to force this 'thing' out of existance.

Donna's hair is clutched and it's own head reels back but in that same motion it actually grips in and pivots, colliding with Hal and swinging Donna Troy by the scalp like a brand new weapon, attempting to use it's brutish ungodly strength to try and deal with multiple attackers.

It actually releases it's axe to grasp an additional clutch upon the woman.

Witchdoctor's banishment spell growing steadily stronger starts to cause fragmented pieces of armor to crack and trickle upwards, drawn in to nothing ness, portions start to flake away and expose the body and clothing underneath, opening points that Batman with his precision can strike, though, the sturdy aspect of an Asgardian is spot on. This thing is very much of Asgard.

The Duality is ripped apart, leaving the tatter-laden figure if one upon all fours where she nearly Forced J'onn to leave her, while the other grants her own Ackursed' goodbye in the drift of the Sands of Time.

The brunette then watches through a hazy gaze as Hal, Batman, Troia, and J'onn go in full tilt, Witchdoctor given a pleading glance from a solid gaze, exhausted, even as her rise comes with the slow hiss of a drawing blade.

To them all, the apologetic look is a blue, instead of green, leaning upon the blade like a bolster before she breathes in deep and throws it towards Hal, while J'onn and Donna beat upon the figure of the Kurse like a massive bag of 'Spikey' Sand!

Giving up her sword, is nothing, now, it is one step to fixing the damage caused here, and the brunette embodiment knows it as her eyes follow the sword and then fall on those Battering the Kurse backward, since she cannot!

"Seal it after." The Brunette Asgardian states as the small glistening remnants of sand spiral around the blade forged in Nidavellir, meant for such things.

"Wound him," Him? Was the Kurse Bearer once one of meaning? "Deeply." No more risks!

The final bout of trust literally thrown to the others, the strangers, but allies..

See, it could attempt to use her like some sort of amazonian flesh mace, but Donna's a tricksy little minx herself, and as the thing grabs her hair, she drops the shield entirely, using the things's swing to her advantage, ignoring the pain of her hair being possibly yanked out by the handful. It'll grown back. But with her body swinging away from the thing, she reaches down to grab the lasso at her waist, flicking it out and attempting to wrap it around the creature. If it should hit, it will not only pull her back in, but, if she's lucky, grip tight enough to activate the lasso's power; that enchantment carried not on golden light, like her sister's but on blue. "Stop. Moving." Iron in her words, and something even harder in her tone. A command.

Each strike of force J'onn makes — driving his fists into the large creature's chest — is not intended to wound so much as it is to drive it backwards, step by inevitable step. Muscles ripple — and shift — under the Martian's green skin as he shifts muscle mass to strike with even greater force.

J'onn, ordinarily, is a stoic fighter, full of determination and resolve but little emotion. A job that needs doing. But the more he batters the figure, the more something else leaks into his expression — bearing his teeth and tensing his muscles. Something angry, and volatile, and wholly un-J'onn like.

Still, whatever it is, it doesn't diminish his abilities — if anything seems to enhance his intense strikes.

The absurdity of it catches Jordan off guard. Donna up and being lashed around like a human knunchuck is just too much for him to process, much like her legs clashing along the side of his upperbody and side of his head, it's a full spin that the Green Lantern ends up in, twirling like a top only to collide in to the ground of the crushed up medlab, sprawling out in an odd angle as his autoshield does it's best to maintain protective solidity.

The lasso begins it's twine as the woman is turned in to an aerialist, flung about left to right soon it's incapable of using her in such a fashion, the woman yanked free by the forces of momentum alone.

J'onn's violent assault causes shuddering thumps to resound through the brute's body, a body that is becoming visible as the portal rips away armor in chunks now, Batman's own assaults freshly carving up it's back, lacing and lancing, perhaps its the ambient magical energy or the sheer advanced composites and sharpness of the man's weaponry but he is now causing visible harm upon the Asgardian berserker underneath the plating no longer. It drops to a knee, limbs wrapped and bound to it, body jolting one direction then the next with the force of Martian Manhunters frenzied assault.

Staggering upright Jordan clutches at that sword Amora/not Amora flung out and then hurls it at Batman a sloppy throw, it sort of twirls through the air. It's not as though he knows its magic but it came from the Witch or it had…

Maybe it meant to throw it at the thing also but one eye is incredibly blurred, an Amazon had just unintentionally stomped a hell of a lump in to one side of his skull after all.

The berserker upon it's knees with long blond hair and glowing eyes tries to flex and break free of the lasso to no avail, instead it just releases animistic sounds, the banishment spell causing it's skin to start to glow, to ripple and crackle like lightning. It isn't departing lke it should right away but as that sword sweeps in to close proximity of Batman and the struggle, eldritch energy sweeps out in a flare of lightning all its own, washing over that which is already on the entity, a ripple effect and the 'berserker' digitizes, pixels off and breaks away, swept off the board like sand being cast away. Thrown to the winds that do not exist. Banished to wherever….

Very much like the spell and relic that was binding Enchantress to this realm, that medallion gone from the brunette woman's neck also means Amora too is no longer present, the storm of chaotic magic and violence ceases, the medlab now quiet, bits and pieces crumbling, a wall folding in on itself almost peacefully.

Hal Jordan faceplants with a 'thump'.

Donna can feel the force of the impact of her body on Hal. That's going to leave a mark. On both of them, But with the lasso still in hand and her grip on it tightening, the Green Lantern down will have to wait until the thing they're fighting is dispatched. The sword, thrown across and over her body and the creature's arcs over rather artfully, well. It makes it to Batman, that's the important thing. All she has to do is pit her will against an Asgardian godling and hope she can keep it still long enough for it to be dispatched.

And then it is, and the lasso falls to the floor, no longer glowing blue. Of course, she ends up on the floor herself, weight coming down hard on a hip, but she ignores that pain as best she can, as she tries to make her way over towards where Hal's crumpled on the floor.

It is said Batman is adamantly against killing. Sometimes, he makes exceptions to this rule, but they're extraordinarily rare.

Batman… has no rule against useful excessive force, though.

The sword is taken with the grace one expects from one of the best martial artists in the world, and Batman gets to work on taking the creature apart, armor or no armor. Legs and arms are crippled with clean, precise strikes, before the back is steadily ripped apart to force the creature to flail about reflexively. The intention to force it to respond to stimuli and subdue itself.

Whatever sparked the rage in the Martian Manhunter's brutal attack begins to diminish, skipping a beat here and there — conversely slowing as the creature breaks off piece by piece, until finally, it disappears. The wind from the abrupt departure of the brute whips about the Martian, sending him skidding back across the hall as the violent storm of magic dissipates abruptly, dropping to a knee, bending his head.

For a moment, red ripples over his form, and then he resumes the visage of John Jones — shrinking down in height — still tall for a human, but certainly not towering like his true form — his dour-by-comparison gray suit and jacket normalizing and contrasting the violent fight they just endured. His fingers clench-and-release.

All She wanted to do was Stop!

Hal falls. Donna hits ground zero. Batman finds his swings count down seconds like a metronome of every moment….

J'onn demands a Stop. The Brunette Asgardian complies, just like Hal and Donna but in her own 80's Slinky Toy manner.

«I am sorry..-» WHo heard it and did not…

It was resounding.

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