<div class="floatleft">(http://static1.squarespace.com/static/5499ff2ce4b0b85c868a2158/t/556fb05ae4b01eeb36c217a6/1433383003661/)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Arthur Curry/Orin (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=239229.msg11802466#msg11802466)<br/><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong>Aquaman (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=239229.msg11802466#msg11802466)<br/><strong>Affiliation:</strong>The Atlantean Empire.<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:10<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Gotham Central Bank, Central Gotham<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Red Hood, Supergirl, Booster Gold, anybody else in the immediate area.<br/><hr/><br/>It was strange, living in Gotham. Whilst that statement could easily be left to stand on its own, of course - with so many "Masks" running around, life was hardly boring for its regular residents; it seemed like there was some big disaster or some titanic clash on the news every other day - in this case, it required a not-so-small caveat that it was even more strange a place to live for an amphibious individual; whilst Gotham had a harbour, of course, it was not exactly filled with water that you would want to swim in and - given Gotham's over-abundance of self-styled "Super-villains" - you could never guarantee that it was safe to enter either biologically or even just for the presence of another amphibious individual who wouldn't take kindly to your intrusion. So, it was a surface-located city with a harbour full of water that no sensible amphibian would want to go anywhere near for any extended period of time filled with dangerous criminals and super-powered ne'er-do-wells...which all begged the question of why Orin was there in the first place. He was King of Atlantis, the Lord of The Seven Seas and the "Hero Of The Abyss" - though he despised that last title and everything it stood for - and, notably, was an Atlantean which meant that he required water to survive. So why, exactly, was he in Gotham when the only large body of water was one that even he didn't want to touch with a ten-foot-trident? The answer was....complicated, to say the least. He didn't necessarily want to be in Gotham - he wanted to be back home, overseeing reconstruction and stabilisation efforts after The Great Atlantean Schism, a four-year war that had engulfed the entire sunken continent in death and destruction - but his Seers had told him that he needed to be in order to avert some great disaster. He had pressed about the nature of the disaster, of course, and gotten only vague statements and dire warnings and no real details.<br/><br/>But, of course, Orin had left anyway. Even when your Seers were being vague, only a foolish or an arrogant King ignored them, and historically speaking, those Kings always met with great strife. And if leaving his Kingdom can spare his people another decade of fighting, then he'd gladly do it...Atlantis and the people of Poseidonis in particular had suffered much those last ten years, and he was not about to invite disaster down on their heads a third time if he could help it. It had also, of course, given him a chance to reconnect with the Justice League....or so he had thought, before he reached the surface. It turned out that the Justice League had needed Atlantean aid more than even they had anticipated, if their deaths at the hands of Darkseid and his soldiers were anything to go by. The news of their deaths had hit him hard, of course; he had considered them friends and, more, brothers in arms. That his absence could have led to their deaths...even though it had been something that was far beyond his ability to control, he had still struggled with the guilt for a good few months before finally coming to terms with their loss. Finding M'gann - pretty much his adopted niece - alive and (relatively) well had helped, of course, and besides investigating this mysterious "Disaster" that was supposed to be coming soon, he had also found the need to provide her with guidance and comfort whenever she needed it...she had stumbled onto a dark, vicious path, and it was one he was determined to get her off of if he possibly could. He'd seen the type of darkness in her eyes present in the eyes of another once before, and that hadn't ended well. If he could stop M'gann making the same mistakes...it was his duty as her Mentor and friend to do just that. She may have wanted his help sometimes, but her cooperation wasn't a factor; he would help her, whether she liked it or not. Luckily for him, at least for the moment she seemed like she welcomed his aid...but they would see how long that lasted.<br/><br/>He was rambling, but really, there was nothing else to do at that moment. He was in his hotel room - as he said, the bay was NOT a place he wanted to go, and he had to stay<em>somewhere</em>- staring at the pair of suitcases open on his bed, trying to remember whether he'd forgotten something or not, and desperately trying to rack his brains. The list to one side of the pair of cases said that he had everything, but he didn't really trust it that much...if he'd forgotten something while writing the list, then trusting the list implicitly would be a mistake. How did humans do this so often? He only has two suitcases worth of belongings, and he was struggling to remember whether he had forgotten anything. And humans did this on a regular basis with literally hundreds of boxes, all unmarked and chaotically thrown together. He really didn't understand it...but then, he'd never had to "move house" before, so that was perhaps part of his anxious paranoia. The hotel room - just a single-bed en-suite in Gotham Heights - had been effective as a temporary base in the beginning, but as he accumulated more possessions, more clues and - importantly - more renown as a hero throughout the city, he had quickly discovered the drawbacks of a hotel room. Not only were they extremely small to live in permanently, but they were also extremely expensive by human standards to stay in for extended periods of time. The Atlantean Treasury might have recovered somewhat due to the economic policies that Orin had imposed throughout and immediately after the war, but it was not infinite. He had had to find a cheaper place to live, and one that was more nondescript than an upscale hotel....so he was moving. He had - in civilian clothes - intervened in an attempted mugging and the would-be-victim - who turned out to be a landlord - had offered one of the apartments in her block for him to stay in when she discovered that he was looking for a place to live.<br/><br/>She had initially offered it as a freebie, but...that felt too much like a payment for a good deed for Orin to accept, especially since the lady most likely needed that income to survive so he had refused, but enquired after the apartment anyway. After some fierce haggling, he managed to talk the young lady up to accepting 70% of the usual asking price, which was far, far more affordable than the room he was living in at the time. It was also far larger; it had a reasonably sized bedroom, a kitchen, a lounge and a bathroom with plenty of storage space, such that even though it was in a slightly rougher neighbourhood, it was far more desirable for Orin than the smaller hotel room. Besides; if he moved in, the chances were that criminal activity around the building was going to drop sharply. He could do a lot more good from that apartment than he could do from this hotel room, and it would likely give him greater access to the criminal networks he needed to investigate for information than his current base of operations. So, he had decided to move in...which led to the obvious problem of him not actually having all that many possessions to his name. He could take care of the furniture later - he wouldn't need all that much, he didn't think - but right now, he had to make sure he didn't leave anything behind that could point to his true identity. The people downstairs thought of him as "Arthur Curry," the wealthy, good-natured but reclusive man who had been staying in their hotel for months. He couldn't let anything get left behind that could clue them in to the fact that he was also what they would call a "Superhero." That could cause both them and him problems in the future. He went through the mental list again, checking off the items as he spotted them in his cases...the hotel room was barren of any individuality, which was a good sign, but he couldn't help but feel like he was missing something. Groaning softly, he reached up to scratch the back of his neck irritably. He needed a break.<br/><br/>Sighing, he reached down and retrieved the television remote, flicking on the TV to try and distract him from his moving woes. Perhaps there was an interesting documentary or film on that he could lose himself in for an hour or so while his brain ticked over the problem in the background. He just needed some distance from the problem, was all...if he couldn't find anything on TV, he might end up going out on patrol; he had already done a circuit of his usual investigation grounds tonight, but there was no harm in doing a second one. Rescuing people in distress wasn't his primary mission goal, but it was still a secondary objective of his stay there in Gotham, and if he wasn't doing anything else that was constructive, he could at least go out and do some goo- Hang on. What was that? He had been flicking randomly to see what was on the hotel network, but something had caught his eye on the news. Normally they didn't really report on anything serious, and if they did, either Orin was already there or there were Heroes there dealing with it such that Orin wasn't required...but not today, it seemed. A bank robbery was in progress and being perpetrated by...well, somebody. The news team called her "Poison Ivy," who he remembered Bruce - Poseidon bless his voyage - talking about from time to time when the subject of his regular enemies came up. He had a surprising level of respect and caution about her abilities, and if Batman regarded you as a worthy opponent...well, it meant that you were dangerous, and from the looks of it, he wasn't wrong; forget the henchmen by her side, it was the huge vines and thorns that were whipping around that concerned him. An innocent could easily get hurt from those flailing things, and that wasn't something that Orin was about to allow to happen without trying to stop it.<br/><br/>The news camera panned briefly - showing the heroes already there opposing her - and Orin gave a small start; Booster Gold, of all people, was standing his ground against the young woman, along with the man who called himself "Red Hood?" That was an odd pair, if nothing else! Booster Gold always put up a front of selfish self-interest, and even though Orin knew that to likely be an exaggerated image rather than his actual personality, the man did have a slight selfish streak when it came to ensuring his own safety, to the point where he had apparently refused to aid the Justice League against Darkseid...whilst that initially looked bad, and whilst Orin definitely had some pointed questions for him when they eventually met again, Orin wasn't going to automatically assume the worst. Booster had always been more interested in his own safety, true, but he was also in possession of a heroic streak and he was unlikely to ever leave an innocent in danger. He had fought beside Booster enough times to know the mans true heart, even if he kept it hidden, and...well, Orin hadn't been at that battle either. For a good reason, true...so who was to say that Booster didn't have a good reason either? He would have to find out in due course, but he wasn't about to start throwing around premature judgements without hearing all of the facts. Red Hood, on the other hand? He despised him. Nothing more than a two-bit thug who happened to prey on other thugs. If you murder a murderer, that's still murder. Even in Atlantis, judgement was handled by the courts, not random people in the streets. He had no issue with civilians and metahumans and aliens and whatever else qualified you as a Superhero on Earth intervening to rescue people and performing a Citizens Arrest on a perpetrator, and sometimes death happened in self defence, but deciding unilaterally that the offender deserved the death penalty and outright trying to kill rather than incapacitate and disarm? That was going too far. He was only a hairs breadth better than the criminals he apparently despised.<br/><br/>He was sorely tempted to just leave them to it; both of them were capable and skilled, even if he didn't like one of them, and the thought of fighting on the same side as a brute like Red Hood made his stomach churn...but he knew that he couldn't just turn around and ignore it. Forget for a moment that he had a duty to protect innocents from harm and that not going would be ignoring and shirking that duty; Booster was a friend, even if they had not seen or spoken to each other in years, and if he left them to it, Red Hood might attempt to kill the young lady instead of taking her in for due processing and that was not something he would allow. He had no doubt that Red Hood had killed others since their last encounter, and he was not about to let him kill somebody else when he knew where the Red Hood was. Besides...he needed to talk to Booster, and this at least told him exactly where to find him. And wasn't he just saying how he needed a distraction from moving? Wouldn't it be dishonest and selfish to go on patrol and ignore the devastation happening in Central Gotham? Yes. He had every reason in the world to go, and no reason not to. If nothing else, there were innocents that needed protection, and three heroes could end the fight far faster than two heroes could...it was better to be there and not be needed, than to not be there and be needed. He had learned that lesson the hardest way he could imagine. He turned the TV off, and promptly turned and entered the bathroom, pulling on his armoured arm-guards and his scalemail leggings. The straps went across his chest to keep the arm plates and shoulder guards in place - why bother with chest protection when your chest was harder than any armour? - and his trident found its home in his hand. He needed to get to Gotham Central quickly, and there was really only one way to do it.<br/><br/>He approached the bathtub, and with a wave of his trident, filled it with still, clear water. It was, he had to say, extremely useful being able to create water from literally thin air...it saved him a lot of time when it came to running a bath. See, he could teleport between large bodies of water, but the water had to be deep and wide enough to cover his entire body if he entered. He didn't need to lie down or even have his whole body submerged to teleport, but the water needed to be capable of submerging his body for the transportation to work for...some reason. He didn't quite know the reason himself, only that the limitation existed, and really, he didn't need to know the why; he just needed to know that it was, in fact, a condition of the power. And could you imagine running a bath whenever there was a crisis that you needed to get to? It would be faster to just run there, with how fast he could move. So in that sense...the Trident - a gift from Poseidon himself to the Royal Line thousands of years ago, and blessed with new powers after Orin became the Favoured of Poseidon during The Schism - really made itself useful. It was the trident itself that allowed the teleportation, and could you imagine how situational that ability would be if the Trident couldn't also control and summon the substance? He was thankful that Poseidon had thought to include that ability, otherwise it would have been far more awkward. He touched the water with the Trident, and it immediately began to give off a soft, pulsing glow as he willed the water to become a gateway, extending his mind out via the connection that all water on Earth has, searching for an appropriate destination...and it wasn't long before he found one. A "fire hydrant" off to one side of the street - about fifty meters away from where Booster and Hood were at that moment - had been struck by Ivy's vines, causing massive flooding of the area. The water had filled up several sinkholes to the point where there was easily enough water to cover him if he lay down in it...and that was enough. He made the connection between the bath and the sinkhole and - without hesitation - lifted his leg and stepped into the glowing water. After a moment, Orin's body began to descend through the water, far, far below what should be possible given the depth of the bath, until his entire body had disappeared beneath the glowing, rippling water. Another soft pulse, and the water returned to its normal, clear un-powered state...but Orin was nowhere to be seen.<br/><br/>The transportation itself, once all of Orin's body had disappeared beneath the surface, was instantaneous and, after a brief series of lowly-glowing pulses from the water-filled sinkhole, a form began to emerge; the top of a head became visible first, followed by a face, then shoulders, then torso, then legs as Orin appeared, standing knee-deep in the new mini-river running around the edge of the Central Square. The materialisation only took a few seconds - more like somebody climbing the last few steps in a staircase than somebody arriving on a lift - before Orin stepped up and out of the sinkhole, taking a look around. He had arrived slightly behind and fifty or so meters to the side of Booster and Red Hood, who - obviously being focused on Ivy - had apparently not noticed him yet. Ivy, too, hadn't noticed his arrival, still staring as she was at the pair of heroes. So...he had a choice. Attempt to take Ivy by surprise and try to finish it quickly, but risk interfering in whatever Booster and Reds plan might be - and risk being seen and getting caught by one of those questing vines - or try and meet up with Booster and - though the thought sickens him - Hood and work out a coordinated gameplan to attempt to finish it quickly by using their strength of numbers. Whilst surprise might be the obvious choice...linking up with the other heroes to coordinate makes more sense strategically. You need a plan to succeed, and going it solo could just end up with more injuries and even deaths of civilians, and that wouldn't do. Besides, if Booster had a plan, Orin would need to hear it. If he had a clear shot and a guarantee of surprising Ivy? He would take it. Unfortunately, he hadn't materialised behind her, so any movement he makes now could easily draw her attention or that of her henchmen. It was just too risky to attempt a surprise attack without support....so linking up it was, then. Ivy was obviously powerful, so the only way they could hope to beat her was evidently through superior planning...and that meant coordination and cooperation. He didn't like Hood...but at that moment in time, they were on the same team and should act like it, at least until the battle was done.<br/><br/>He glanced down at the water he used to Travel there and, with a silent command, pulled it upwards towards him, commanding it to compress and coil around his arm in a thin, shining layer of water. It would be imperceptible to most, which is what he was banking on; he could use it to rehydrate and heal himself, or he could use it in any number of offensive or defensive ways...he was draining the sinkhole a little, true, which meant that he couldn't make a quick retreat if he had to, but he could use the water in a lot more ways than just running. The Trident's ability to control water should be used to its full ability, and creating large water from the air did require more time and concentration than simply controlling it...so taking some water with him was definitely not a bad idea. Once the water from the sinkhole was safely and securely bound around his left arm - the trident in his right - he looked up towards the pair....then back towards Ivy. He was still torn, curse it! He needed to end the battle quickly, and that could be achieved with a surprise attack if it succeeded and he was durable enough to withstand it going wrong...but was the gamble worth it, if it got in the way of Booster and Hood? He hesitated for a moment...and in that moment, his decision was made. One of the vines began lashing out uncontrollably as it was struck by a stray spray of bullets - whether it was from the Hood or from Ivy's henchmen or even some watching police officers, he couldn't say - knocking things this way and that, flattening anything nearby, even hitting several of its brethren...and, unfortunately, a small huddle of police cars whose occupants had long since fled towards the Police Cordon.<br/><br/>Most of them just went skittering away across the ground, shattered glass spraying across the floor, but one in particular had the misfortune of being caught by the very tip of the vine which sent it skyrocketing into the air, flipping door-over-door as it sailed across the Square in the general direction of Booster and Hood. Instantly, he found himself automatically calculating the cars projected trajectory - yes, he knew how to do that; he couldn't be an effective General and be ignorant of things like momentum and trajectory, now could he? - and though it was going to miss Booster, Hood and Orin by a sizeable margin...its estimated landing space was far, far worse. It was going to land between him and the other two heroes, about a third of the distance away from him, making him easily the closest to the site of the future wreckage and, worse...there were civilians there. Not many - only two or three young ladies and a young male, presumably a group of friends who had ended up being caught in the crossfire during a day out - but still too many. Even one injured civilian was far, far too many injured civilians for his comfort, and a heroes first job is to protect the civilians and non-combatants. And since as soon as he intervened he would be noticed, that made the decision for him; he was going to link up with Hood and Booster, just after he stopped that car from killing those young ladies. Without waiting any longer, dashed as fast as he could to close the distance, immediately getting up to speed. Any normal human would never have reached the projected landing space in time, but he was no ordinary human; on land, he could easily run up to speeds of 100mph, and he only needed a fraction of that speed to get there in time. Still, he didn't take any chances; he needed to alter the cars momentum so that it was slow enough for him to catch without risking causing an explosion that could injure the civilians anyway, and he needed to shield them from any extra fallout that might occur that he hadn't foreseen....luckily, he knew exactly how to do that, his brain already whirring through exactly what he needed to do.<br/><br/>First, he looked at the car that was currently sailing through the air towards them...from what he could see, it was utterly unoccupied, which would make things a whole lot easier; he wouldn't have to worry about safeguarding the passengers safety as well, and could treat the car as roughly as he needed to, which was a relief. He looked back to the civilians; they had started to run, but too late; the car would hit them before they managed to get out of the way, if he didn't intervene...which was exactly what he was going to do. Second, he slowed his pace down to the adequate level; he would reach the area in time, but not quickly enough to stop the car hitting the ground...that was, if the car was going to hit the ground in the first place. He couldn't blast the car away because then it might hit somebody else, and there wasn't enough water around to use it to grab the car and set it down gently...and if he leapt onto it, the momentum that it already had would likely carry both the car and him into a nearby building, again potentially injuring other people. It was a tricky situation - he had to somehow slow the car down enough so that he could either set it down or direct it towards an empty area of the Square - but luckily, he had The Trident. The third thing he did, then, was use the Trident; he pointed it ahead of him as he ran with a single, simple thought and a push of his Will into the staff, pointing it directly at the spot just in front of where the Civilians were panicking...the car streaked towards them, still rolling side-over-side in the air, just starting its descent, about to crash to the ground amongst the non-combatants...and then it bounced.<br/><br/>It hit a spot in the air, a shimmering gold light radiated out from the point of impact and then it was tumbling directly up into the air, away from the forcefield that Orin had created with the magic from the Trident. It hung there for a moment, using up the last of its upward velocity, and that gave Orin the chance he needed. He couldn't leap straight at the car - his own momentum would now cause the problems of being unable to control where it landed - so he needed to slow down somehow and didn't have the time to stop, then jump...so instead, he leapt forwards and to the right, away from the car...and up onto the forcefield. He bent his legs as he landed on thin air - another spidering golden light spreading from his feet as the forcefield was struck again, the light swiftly disappearing after the contact - and used the position to turn and spring, much of his momentum lost as he hurtled towards the now-descending car. Thankfully, his timing was impeccable and he reached the car just as its rolling motion brought its underside to face Orins direction. He spread his arms, grabbing hold of the two sides of the car as it went past so that he was now holding the car from its underside widthways - holding the area just underneath and inside both doors - and span with it for a revolution - super strength had its advantages - before a blast from his Trident - held between his hand and the underside of the car - slowed down the roll. Of course, Ivy had now spotted him. How could you possibly miss something like that? It wasn't every day that a car bounced in mid-air and an all-but bare chested man jumped twenty feet in the air and caught it, after all. He could see several vines already making their way towards him....four, by his count, the closest one looking to be seeking to intercept him before he hit the ground. Thankfully, he was holding a car.<br/><br/>Turning in mid-air, he pulled his arms back and then thrust them forwards, sending the police car hurtling towards that vine rapidly. The vine - too big to get out of the way properly - took the brunt of the cars weight directly in its midsection and recoiled back, struggling to free itself from underneath the now totally wrecked car. Thankfully, there were no civilians near<em>that</em>vine that could get hurt, or Orin might have been in trouble. He landed lightly, bending his knees as he did so, then straightened and, with another wave of the Trident, dispelled the barrier. He looked at the group of stunned, open-mouthed civilians who were now gawping at him instead of fleeing.<br/>"Run, quickly. Get behind the Police Cordon and give them your statements...you'll be safe there." Relatively speaking, anyway. They stared at him for a moment longer, as if unable to process his words. He slammed the butt of his Trident against the ground, and the gem in the center of the head - where the prongs met to connect to the staff itself - glowed golden for a moment. "<em>Go!</em>" They blinked suddenly, then, and scurried to obey, sprinting off across the outside of the Square, two of them pulling the other two behind them. Humans...surprise them, and they just go still and stiff. At least they were relatively safe now, though...civilian deaths are not things he wants on his conscience. Of course, now he had given up his element of surprise...and he still had three large vines to deal with. Well...it was harder for them to hit a moving target, so that was exactly what he did; he started moving, taking off at speed towards where Booster and Hood were. He couldn't launch a sneak attack on Ivy now, so that only left the other option: Link up and coordinate with the other two heroes present. They needed a plan and they needed to cooperate if they were going to end this fight quickly.<br/><br/>The next vine to reach him came at him from the front, which he ably leaped over, placing a hand on the vine as he passed to aid in his balance, resuming his long, rapid stride as he hit the floor. Another one came at him from the side, which he managed to duck under at the last moment, sending it whistling behind him - from the sudden crash, he assumed that it had bumped into the first one; he made a mental note of that. The bigger vines were large, but cumbersome and more difficult to control. That could be useful later - and away. The third one also shot at him from the side, too low to duck under and too large to jump on a moments notice. It would have been a problem...if he didn't have the Trident. With a thought, the Trident shifted into its Blade form, which Orin promptly swung in a vicious arc towards the vine. The large green appendage didn't even reach Orin, as a thin, blue wave of magical energy leapt from the tip of the sword and cleaved straight through the center of the vine, leaving both halves collapsing and twitching on the ground. He didn't generally like killing, but those things were evidently not sentient, and were obviously under the direct control of Ivy...so he felt no remorse. Killing weeds was nothing like killing sentient, sapient creatures. That was the last vine that reached him before he managed to reach Booster and Hood - some machine gun fire from one of the henchmen had skittered off of his arms, but nothing really all that worth noting - and skidded to a halt beside them.<br/><br/>He looked at Booster, more comfortable with addressing him than he was Hood. "Booster. It's been a while." Proper greetings could wait until<em>after</em>the fight. He glanced at Hood. "Red Hood," he offered, along with a curt nod by way of token greeting. They didn't like each other very much, but hopefully Hood could put that aside long enough to fight Ivy down....something told him that she wasn't about to accept an offer of surrender. He turned his body towards the perimeter, looking out for any attempted flank attacks, then glanced back at Booster briefly. "I assume you have a plan of some kind? I doubt that Ivy will make it easy to close the distance between us and her, after all." He looked over at Ivy. "We need to divide her attention somehow. Perhaps a three-pronged attack would work; we each attack from a different direction and hope that we can divide her attention enough for at least one of us to get close enough to end it quickly." No sense in prolonging the fight; the longer the fight goes, the more chance of her either getting away or hurting more people. The name of the game was rapid de-escalation. The quicker they could subdue Ivy, the better. The longer these fights went, the worse it got, both for the Heroes and the civilians. And really, what were they doing other than trying to protect the civilians? Even if Ivy got away with the money, if no civilians got hurt, Orin would still call that a win. He would prefer to take Ivy into custody, of course...but he wouldn't complain. A heroes first priority should always be to prevent as much collateral damage as possible, even if the villain escapes. If they didn't care what happens to the civilians...then how were they any different to the villains themselves? No...saving the Civilians was top priority. And the best way to do that? End the fight, fast. It was that simple.