Change is Coming (EW)

[Logan]

~Deus post~

((If you are a super villain, and you want to get in on this, just shoot me a PM and I'll see if we can work you in. No heroes, and no Neutrals unless you intend to go evil. kthnxbai.))

Deus walked the streets of Gotham city, basking in the putrid darkness this city gave off. He loved it; the morose, decrepid stench of crime was everywhere. It sat in the gutters, it slept in the alleys... this was the perfect place to begin. He continued to walk, his expensive shoes missing the potholes, puddles, and grime of this great city. His pants were black, as were his vest, tie and hair. His shirt was as white as snow, which stood out like a sore thumb in this part of the neighborhood. He suddenly felt something metal against the small of his back.

"Hey, man, I don't want no trouble. Just give me your wallet, dig?" said the voice from behind him. the voice was shakily, unconfident... must be a junkie.

"Yeah, sure, man. Don't shoot." Deus said, feigning fear. Men like this basked in being in control. Deus let his hand fall towards his pants pocket as he concentrated his energy in the palm of his hand. He could feel it swirling, waiting to explode out, but he kept his power in line as always. Then, when the skin of his hand could barely contain the immense energy behind it, he thought a single word, and the man's life came to an end.

Burn.

The flames shot out of his hand like a shotgun that shot .50 calibre pellets. The man didn't have a chance of surviving from this range; he was crispy on contact. Deus left the scene without a second look, or even giving the situation a second thought. The man was weak, and the weak did not deserve to survive. The quality of the earth would be so much higher if Deus could just kill those he deemed unworthy of being on this planet.

He continued to walk for about 15 minutes until he foung Wayne Manor. It mad been deserted now for a while, Bruce Wayne being gone and Alfred moving on for the time being. The walls were high, and the gates were locked to keep out the typical riff-raff of Gotham; Deus was anything but normal. With a quick push from his legs, he vaults his body over the brick walls, and onto the yard of Wayne Manor.

He walked across the yard, which was still maintained daily. This led Deus to believe that Wayne would be back eventually, but not anytime soon. So, for now, this would be their meeting place. This would be the place where the world "evillest" minds would meet. The change would sprout from the walls of Gotham's most influential man. Deus liked the irony.

Deus had contacted a number of different people that met society's definition of a Villian. They were cruel, they were smart, and they wanted chaos. Chaos was, essentially, the goal that Deus wanted to work towards, but the same ends would come through a different means. He travelled around the world, following up leads and searching for these individuals. Upon finding them, he connected to their mind, and gave them the following message.

If you are interested in making money, gaining power, and working with the greatest "evil" minds this world has ever known, meet at Wayne Manor on November 19th. There, I will be discussing a proposition that is guarenteed to interest you, or your money back. I will see you then, comrad. A change is coming.

He reached the front door of Wayne Manor, and stuck his finger against the lock; the heat from his finger melted it down. The door opened, and as the alarm sounded, Deus reached in to the left, found the console, and punched in an assortment of random numbers. Deus had done his research. He turned on the lights as the alarm ended, signalling the safety of their meeting. He made his way to the living room, and found a crystal vase with an expensive smelling alcohol in it. He poured himself a glass, as he waited for his guest to arrive.

A change was coming, and it would chill the world to the core.

[Logan]

~Parallax post~

Atop a building in New York sat the greatest factor of fear the universe had ever known. His ability to strike almost anyone to the core was unparalleled, and now he had a Lantern as a host. Although maybe not as strong as the one commissioned to defend this sector of the universe, Parallax's host was still quite powerful indeed. Typically, Green Lantern's were chosen because of their will and lack of fear, but this one seemed to have sacrificed his fearlessness for his power. As soon as he saw Parallax, his heart skipped a beat; it didn't take more than 5 seconds for Parallax to stitch himself into the soul of the Lantern, combining the parasite and the Lantern into one being.

Parallax smiled as he looked down upon the city, and let a smile grace his lips. This world would soon know his purpose. They think they had felt fear, but they had no idea. Humans didn't know what it was like to truly fear something. They throw the word around like love. "I'm afraid of the dark", or "I'm afraid of spiders". No, they only thought they feared such trivial things. What they meant to say was that they had a dislike for the dark, or a dislike for spiders. There was only one thing they would truly fear.

Parallax.

Then, out of nowhere, he had a thought that wasn't his own. It was a wierd, dark thought; not the content, but the feeling of it. It had an eery sense to it, and the smooth, sensual baritone in his head was just sugar-coating something more sinister.

If you are interested in making money, gaining power, and working with the greatest "evil" minds this world has ever known, meet at Wayne Manor on November 19th. There, I will be discussing a proposition that is guarenteed to interest you, or your money back. I will see you then, comrad. A change is coming.[/i]

A change was coming, eh? Power, influence, money... the things simpletons wished for. Parallax had a greater goal, and a greater purpose than most "villains". Most wanted influence, most wanted death, but Parallax wanted for something deeper. He wanted to influence humanity to the core with a feeling so raw, so primal that men will sit wide-eyed when they experience it. Maybe... just maybe this man would be able to give Parallax what he wanted.

Parallax turned away from the edge of a building, his dark geen cape billowing behind him. What he loved about his appearance was that he looked, obviously, like a Lantern but with some slight differences. His suit was made of pure, solid energy which allowed it to be extremely protective, yet light at the same time. He had a slight variation of the Lantern symbol on his chest, and the mask... well, the mask was probably his favorite part. It wove in and out of itself, the dark emerald green protecting his "identity". It was a hard thing to do when your identity was fear.

*two weeks later*

Parallax landed from the skies onto a lush, green yard. He looked around, half expecting there to be some attack to prove his worth. There was nothing and, with a sigh, Parallax approached the door. He opened it easily, since the lock seemed to have been melted; the handle was still hot. So, the man used fire... and he had just arrived. Then, Parallax laughed to himself as he removed his hand from the door. Why was he going to open it? His abilities as a lantern allowed him to walk through object by travelling through the fourth dimension. It was a hard thing to explain, since it always seemed like a dream to him.

He travelled through the door and into the bright entryway of Wayne Manor. His feet seemed to float atop the hard wood floor, as he searched the huge mansion for the man... ah, there he was. He was in the living room, pouring himself a drink. Parallax walked forward, and addressed the master of ceremonies.

"I am Parallax, but you probably know that already. I'm interested in your proposition."

The man smiled warmly and nodded to Parallax. Then, after a sip of his drink, it was the man's turn to speak.

"My name is Deus Bonaparte, and I will explain more about myself, and the proposition once the others arrive. I would offer you a drink, but you aren't thirsty, are you? Please, make yourself at home. Until Bruce Wayne shows up, this will be our base of operations."

Parallax nodded once as he made his way to one of the numerous ornate chairs arranged in a circle. As Parallax sat, he looked at the man. Deus knew that Parallax wasn't thirsty... huh. So this fancy man was a telepath, too. Well, Parallax had the ability to create a "blind fold" for his mind, which would disallow any reading of it. But, for now, he would wait to use that power. This fancy man didn't seem dangerous...

...yet.

[Logan]

~my/Jokie post, epic~

If you are interested in making money, gaining power, and working with the greatest "evil" minds this world has ever known, meet at Wayne Manor on November 19th. There, I will be discussing a proposition that is guarenteed to interest you, or your money back. I will see you then, comrad. A change is coming.

This remediation of the bastard clown had only took up residence in Gotham a month prior to the telepathic invite buzzing inside his skull. He currently didn't have the slightest clue that a man dressed up in a bat suit did or would roam the city's streets. So, despite being in the early stages of a hopeful long-lasting career in crime, his reputation already seemed to be strong enough to alert that of another--perhaps greater presence that wished to benefit from his impressive brief work ethics. He wasn't honestly very interested upon first receiving the message. Money and power weren't an obsession of his. He was more concerned with world destruction, ruining and tormenting the soil of this pathetic grimy power hungry joke of a world that made people starve to merely be a part of. Despite the messengers intent for the invited to profit, he realized there'd be a bigger much more meaningful price if he were to participate; chaos. And that alone was enough for this fresh new face of Gotham to emerge, take part, and do the bidding.

The opportunist was alone in a cheap run down hotel room, savaging through a worn black plastic sack of clothing, preparing to prep himself and look his sharpest for the meeting. The bag held his known identity; old brittle dark purple leather gloves with occasional shades of spotted dried blood stains, a wrinkled green dress shirt with black octagons, a green tie with tears and stress marks that he probably yanked off a corpse, a thin dirty purple coat that looked like a dust rag he personally sewn together himself with slacks to match, faded brown leather wingtips, a cheap dollar tree set of face paints, deck of playing cards, a .38 cal Glock 25 pistol including a full clip of eighteen, and an entire arsenal of razors and knives that could've properly been displayed by a knife show. Throw all the ingredients together and you've successfully cooked up a sociopath homicidal individual who likes to go by the name..

Joker.

Suiting up, slicking back the rats nest of dirty green hair, painting on the ghostly racoon face with ruby red blotching a hideous facial scar, the Joker patted himself down once fully dressed to make sure he had all his tools in place. Who was he to second guess if he decided to show up guns blazing rather than sit down and do the evil meeting of minds? Weapons were always necessary, and this clown never left home without them. Fully customized to his best delighted standards, the Joker left the cock roach ridden hotel room behind him and headed for a bigger spotlight in Gotham; Wayne Manor.

Moments later the Joker found his destination. At first glance, with the up kept groomed landscape, the Joker nearly scratched his head and wondered if this was the place the worlds most dangerous minds would be meeting. He was honestly puzzled, standing at the front entrance gate, staring at the house like a pizza boy lost with his delivery. Could this have been a prank? An attempt to laugh at the rookie criminal and his clown act? Whatever the case, the Joker didn't care, he liked a good laugh anyway. Climbing up the gate, the Joker sprung himself over landing on his feet and imprinting the soft soil with his wingtips. He consciously checked his inside coat pocket reassuring himself the Glock 25 didn't slip out during flight. Slugging his shoulders, adjusting his coat, the Joker approached the manor with a nonchalant attitude. The first thing he noticed coming to the front door was that the lock had been melted, literally melted! Someone blow torched the lock? He briefly liked the idea of that style before shrugging it off and jokingly knocking on the front door. "Knock, knock.", he pushed the door open being generous enough to whomever was inside to not answer the door and join in on one of his many corn ball 'knock knock' jokes. Walking into the front room, his eyes darted between a bulky man in green with a cape and a decently tie dressed younger fellow. The Joker smirked and bowed presenting himself sarcastically with a dark gleam in his black eyes, "Present for whoever requested the services of a birthday clown."

[Logan]

Deus could feel the Joker before the clown even knocked. Deus made no claim to being a saint... but this Joker's mind sure made Deus look like one. There was a blackness about him, something Deus couldn't even put his finger on. He looked towards the door in anticipation as the Joker walked across the lawn. Deus could feel the Joker's thoughts as the man in purple made sure his gun was still hidden... well, it may be hidden to Parallax, but Deus now knew exactly where it was incase something went... wrong. As the knocks sounded against the door, the Joker spoke for the first time.

"Knock knock."

Deus rolled his eyes as he replied. "Who's there?"

The Joker walked in. He bowed, and address Deus and Parallax. "Present for whoever requested the services of a birthday clown."

The Joker was the kind of present that Deus would need if his plan were to succeed. Deus looked the man up and down... this clown really was as insane as Deus thought he was. The Joker was fairly knew to Gotham, but it was the Joker's mind that attracted Deus. There was insanity, a need for chaos that showed him as a true villian. Sure, someone like Parallax may have been around longer and knew the game better, but the Joker was unorthdox. More importantly... he was unpredictable. It was this sense of unknowing that Deus liked about him. Deus, at first, thought he would mentor the Joker and turn him into a true criminal... but the Joker may just be a flower, waiting to bloom in the right weather.

"Please, sit down, Joker. I'm glad you decided to join us. A drink, perhaps? Deus said, motioning towards the crystal vase filled with the amber liquid. Deus tossed his head back and let the hot liquid burn down his throat, clearing it of any residual phlegm left from his cigarettes. Then, setting down the glass, he reached into his pocket, and withdrew a pack of Marlboro Reds. He withdrew a single cigarette, and brought it to his lips. The tip ignited, without any evidence of a lighter. He knew the Joker would have noticed the lock (especially since he heard his thoughts). Even though Deus didn't need a smoke, he figured he might as well show the Joker a small glimpse of what he was capable of.