<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, 20:13<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/>Well, so much for his plan; pretty much as soon as he made himself known to Ivy, apparently she thought her odds in a straight up confrontation to be a little less sanguine than she may have hoped and immediately fled in an apparent attempt to escape the scene. Smart, as strategies go; a good general knows when the odds were stacked against them and knew exactly when to retreat and regroup and attempt to perform a counterattack, preferably from ground that they themselves have chosen and prepared accordingly...which was apparently exactly what Ivy was attempting to do as she ran back towards and into the obviously biologically afflicted bank. He had read reports and files on "Poison Ivy" before, as part of his homework reading with Bruce Wayne back when he had been fighting alongside the Justice League, and he knew full well just how cunning and ruthless she was...they needed to corner her quickly, before she could pull any of her tricks out of her little bag of magic to swing the tide against them. Even three on one, Ivy had a history of turning those odds around somehow, and he was not about to let her do the same thing there. Of course, Booster assumed he knew best - even though, as much as he might have liked the man, Orin honestly doubted he could have led his way out of a paper bag with a hole in it - and blasted off as if he knew what was what...and what did he have Orin do? Booster Gold wanted Orin, the King Of Atlantis, to distract a small group of goons that were already getting their asses kicked while he chased down the Super-Powered Mastermind? Yeah. Right. Like<em>that</em>was going to happen. Orin wasn't above dealing with henchmen, but when they were already being ably handled and the Mastermind was in sight, he was not about to prioritise four hapless thugs over<em>Poison Flaming Ivy.</em><br/><br/>So incensed was he by the affront of apparently not being deemed "worthy" of facing Ivy, he almost missed the telepathic communication from a very familiar voice; his eyes darted around briefly before they settled on the general location the mental hail had come from...M'gann, his "honorary" niece...when the rest of the JLA had left Atlantis after helping him reconquer it, she had stayed and aided in the reconstruction effort and even taken up studying Atlantean culture and history. It had proven difficult at first, getting the more hardline Isolationist aristocratic factions to accept her, but even they were unable to deny the impact she was having on the rebuilding of their home, and she had been one of the fiercest fighters against the Loyalists Of The Trident. Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman were all myths in their own right in Atlantis, being the Generals of "The Glorious Reconquest" that had liberated their home, but M'gann? M'gann was the<em>Legend.</em>The foreigner not only of Atlantis but of Earth itself who first put her life at risk to rescue Atlantis from Tyranny and then put her life on hold to aid their reconstruction. There were entire generations in Atlantis that had only been able to go to school because M'gann had personally overseen the building of the education establishments. There were doctors who only had surgeries because M'gann went out of her way to clear the rubble from their old lives...she was, by far, the most honoured out of all of "The Generals" who served under Orin - it wasn't quite like that, of course, but Atlantis was a Military Autocracy, so of course they were going to view things from that frame of reference - and he didn't doubt that she knew it. She had been having a hard time recently, he knew, but he didn't have the time to reflect on it or offer any lengthy greetings or enquiries as to her health; he kept it short and sweet, as you should always attempt to do on the field of battle.<br/><em>M'gann! It's good to see you,</em>he sent telepathically,<em>But be careful! This is a dangerous enemy. Proceed with caution.</em><br/>He turned, then, looking back over the clearing as Ivy disappeared inside the Bank, Booster Gold apparently having failed to stop her. He grimaced, and took a step towards the building....if Booster Gold couldn't stop her, then he would have to.<br/><br/>And then, of course, the whole Square went to Hades in a Gift-Basket.<br/><br/>Those pods on the top of the building that Orin had previously written off as something to be dealt with at a later date suddenly exploded in a shower of faintly-glowing spores that quickly spread over the Square and disappeared into the atmosphere, even as Orin watched. He blinked in surprise - he hadn't been expecting that...had there been a warning? If so, more fool him for taking his attention away from the Square. He had assumed that there were enough heroes there to at least give him warning of anything Ivy tried, but apparently it was a mistake to rely on a gloryhog and a psychopath...go figure - and his moment of shock, whilst only brief, was far too long...he recognised that sort of dispersal technique - whilst not<em>exactly</em>the same, several of the New Tritonian Biological Weapons had used a similar explosion-based dispersal system to blanket a wide area with some very nasty water-borne toxicants that his Kingdom was still attempting to purge from their waters even today - and knew enough to know that he had to protect himself somehow...given that it had dispersed high in the air, he could only surmise that it was airborne rather than spread based on touch - or Ivy wouldn't have placed it there, out of the way of the crowds, she would have put it in the middle and edges of the Square where it could touch as many people as possible - so it was likely a good idea to cut himself off from the atmosphere altogether. As quickly as he could, he manipulated the water that was currently swirling around his arm to stretch and spread into a layer of thin, constantly shifting liquid that covered his entire body, cutting off contact with the surface oxygen. He didn't need to breathe - he could breathe underwater - so it wasn't a big deal...hopefully it would protect him from whatever those spores were; they had, upon exiting the pods, looked to be relatively slow moving, so perhaps he had reacted quickly enough.<br/><br/>Unfortunately, not many others appeared to have had the same luck; as he watched in horror, every civilian and police officer left inside the Square and not strategically sheltered behind the Police Cordon stopped firing on Ivy or the thrashing vines or the thugs...and turned their weapons on their so-called saviours. Orin blinked in surprise once again - he only vaguely remembered from Wayne's files that she could manipulate people into supporting or helping her by messing around with pheromones and the chemicals inside peoples heads, but Bruce had never mentioned her being able to pull it off on such a huge scale...it had been five years since he died, so perhaps Ivy had gotten more powerful, but if she could do that at the drop of a hat, apprehending her, let alone stopping her, was going to be far more difficult than he had originally projected. For one, he not only had to stop Ivy from getting away, but he had to do it whilst not harming any of the rabid civilians and police officers who were now intent on hurting<em>him.</em>The thought was daunting; none of the people currently in the Square that had turned on the Heroes were capable of even vaguely inconveniencing Orin, of course, but he had to be careful how he handled them. They were only human, after all, and were obviously sick....it was a tough situation, and one that he had been in before, though in slightly different circumstances. He didn't relish that memory, and stuffed it down. War was not a nice thing to remember. Honestly, though, besides the horror...he also felt a grudging respect for Ivy. Not her tactics, but her acumen; a good general retreated and counter-attacked. A<em>great</em>General would take their disadvantage - in that case, being outnumbered - and turn it into an advantage in a split second (here meaning, turning the majority of her attackers into defenders). It was going to be a lot tougher to beat her now...but they had to try. Hopefully, the effects of those spores were only temporary, so they could largely ignore the mob if they were careful.<br/><br/>First thing was first...he had to get the crowd away from him, in case he lashed out too hard at one and ended up killing them. They weren't in their right minds, and hurting them would not be the honourable or the heroic thing to do. Hurting an innocent who was acting against their will? Absolutely horrendous, in his mind. Out of the question. Maybe not for that psychopath Hood, but as far as he was concerned, it was not an option. He was bullet proof (more or less), so he could just walk through the gunfire...but the bullets would ricochet and potentially hit somebody else, and what if he pushed somebody out of the way and they went flying and landed awkwardly and ended up paralysed, or worse, died? No...no, he needed something else. Something that gave him more...space.<br/><em>M'gann,</em>he sent telepathically towards her mental signature, trying to home in on her location. She was likely infected by now...he just hoped that she wasn't a rabid turncoat like the rest of the crowd. That would most certainly be a disaster, having M'gann turning against him and the other heroes.<em>Get over here, if you can hear this. I'm going to try and clear us a path without hurting any civilians.</em><br/>His Tridents gem glowed gold once more, then pulsed as he rammed the butt of his staff into the ground, a brilliant golden glow erupting around him and spreading out. It pushed out maybe ten feet in either direction and fifteen feet upwards, creating a momentarily visible dome that soon paled to near invisibility, save for where the people who had been pushed back by it were now pounding against it furiously with their fists and any weapon they could find nearby. He didn't worry, though; it would take more than a crowbar to get through that shield. He only hoped that M'gann got inside in time.<br/><br/>He nodded to himself, took another step forwards...and fell to one knee suddenly, almost crying out at the sudden stabbing agony that lanced through his stomach and stung his lungs with what felt like the very air he had taken in before submerging himself. Bile rose in his throat with such force that he thought he was not only going to vomit but<em>projectile</em>vomit, liquid and what felt like blended lumps rising together in a gloopy mess up from his stomach. He grimaced fiercely, his left hand clutching at his stomach as it rumbled and ached more than he'd ever felt it unsettle...well...it appeared that his water-shield had been raised too late. He had been infected, too, but due to his Royal blood - meaning that he was of the Super Atlantean Line, a strain even more durable than a normal Atlantean - he had likely had a delayed reaction, since his immune system was several orders of magnitude more sturdy than a humans. Still...the spores had managed to infect him, and what he had lacked in immediate reaction, he was making up for the in the violence of it now. He almost went down to both knees, the crippling agony in his stomach was so bad, and he could even<em>feel</em>liquid and even a few chunks slipping past his gritted teeth. He clamped his mouth down harder to try and stop the bile from escaping more, but he couldn't help it; soon, another small load slipped from his throat and splattered onto the floor before he could shut his lips again and stop the flow. Not much had escaped, especially when compared to some of the civilians that were too busy vomiting to even get up to attack, but too much for his pride to take. He was the<em>King of Atlantis,</em>damnit! He did<em>not</em>vomit on the field of battle! That was for common footsoldiers to do the first time they encountered Blackpowder Bombs! The King Of Atlantis did not kneel, clutching his stomach as he vomited whilst the other heroes fought on!<br/><br/>He growled in the back of his throat and forcibly and pointedly swallowed the rest of the bile back down. It burned his throat and made his stomach churn a little, but at least no more of it escaped onto the ground. The Master Of The Seven Seas and the Chosen of Poseidon was not going to be beaten by a bout of Gods-damned<em>Man-flu!</em>Using his Trident as a crutch - though he'd never admit it - he leveraged himself up to his feet, forcing himself to stand straight despite the sudden slight swaying in his vision. It steadied after a moment, as did the sudden wave of nausea that had accompanied the movement...but he would have to be careful. Hopefully, the toxicants effects were temporary and his current state of being submerged would hold off further infection while his immune system battled the foreign agent...but for now, he was severely handicapped, and would have to take it slower than he may have liked. On the bright side, when he looked across the clearing at Hood, he felt no more desire to knock the little psychopath flying than usual...so at least he didn't have the aggression problems that the rest of the afflicted appeared to have. That was good, at least. Attempting to kill M'gann or Booster might have put a slight strain on their relationships. He took a slow step forwards, steadied himself, then another...the shield appeared to have held, thank Poseidon, so no civilians had gotten close...now all he had to do was get to the Bank. He could afford to ignore the civilians; hopefully the Spores were limited in the amount dispersed and the duration of the infection, so if they could cut off the snake at its head - that was, Ivy - perhaps they could stop things getting worse. If you gave Ivy an inch, she took a mile. That much, he had figured out. He took another step, then another, slowly getting used to the way the world shook and swayed with each movement as he gathered speed, doing his best to fight back the urge to vomit that came every time he moved faster than a crawling pace, making a beeline for the doors of the bank that Ivy had disappeared behind. Civilians and police were shunted aside by his forcefield, the crowd parting around him as they were pushed back by an invisible force that glowed gold whenever it was touched. He ignored them, and the remnants of Ivy's thugs...he even lost track of where the other heroes were, his nausea was so bad - it was all he could do not to collapse again with every step, so keeping an eye on everybody else whilst the world was spinning was a bit too much to ask, even of him - but he didn't care. He just needed to get to Ivy and stop whatever she was planning.<br/><br/>Gods, he hoped he was right about his Waterarmour; if this infection didn't recede soon, he didn't know whether he was going to be in the right state to even give Ivy a stern lecture, let alone fight her. His immune system was stronger when submerged; he just had to hope that it was strong enough to fight off whatever Ivy have infected him with. If not...well. He'd rather not think about that right now. He was already feeling nauseous, so there was no sense in making the feeling worse, was there?