Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Teen Titans: Future Storm ❯ Congregate ( Chapter 22 )

 

“Teen Titans: Future Storm”

Arc 5: “East”

Chapter 1: “Congregate”

Disclaimer: The concept of Teen Titans does not belong to me; it belongs to DC Comics and Warner Brothers. Red Hood, Tsunami (Cerdian), Darkstar, and Kid Flash do not belong to me, either; they are all owned by DC Comics. Micron is borrowed from Batman Beyond, which is the property of DC Comics and Warner Brothers. The incarnation of Flamebird that appears in this story is mine, but the original concept belongs to DC Comics. Succubus is the only character here that is actually mine.

Author's note: It's long past time I formed the Titans East of the Future Storm timeline. Speedy's/Arsenal's and Aqualad's/Tempest's children will be in here, of course, and I'll be doing something to gratify you Speedy/Aqualad enthusiasts who might be reading. Of course, the children of other Titans will be getting my attention, too.

A mild warning; the characters you've grown adjusted to will not be appearing in this. This whole arc belongs to the Titans East. Hopefully, I will do a good enough job characterizing them that you'll come to like them, anyway. They won't be total strangers, though; Red Hood appeared in the first side story I did, Tsunami/Cerdian had a cameo in the Christmas side story, and Kid Flash appeared in Mercury's arc.

Anyway, enough talk. Time for the action.

It was night in Steel City and not a mouse was stirring. Still, there were plenty of humans engaging in various activities. Some were drinking in bars, either hanging out with their friends or looking for someone to take home for the night. Others were doing much the same, only in nightclubs. Everyone, young and not so young, seemed ready for a good time.

The girl stalking the rooftops ought to be just like them. She ought to be dancing the night away in some club while young men bought her drinks in an attempt to convince her to go home with them. In all honesty, she might have preferred to be doing exactly that. However, there were things more important than dancing in clubs and getting laid . . . such as stopping a carjacking.

Below her, a stereotypically dressed young tough had pinned an older man to his car and was whispering threats in his ear. Those threats were emphasized by a gun pressed to the temple of the man's forehead. All this she could see perfectly because of the visual augmentation provided by her sunglasses. The girl pressed a device in her ear that filtered the sounds below until she could clearly hear what the tough was saying.

“Give me your keys, and you get to keep your brains in your head.”

The girl pulled out her bow and the sound of clacking accompanied its unfolding itself to full size, complete with an energy string. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and nocked it, pulling the string back. She aimed the arrow at the gun . . . and released. The arrow flew, swift and precise, and struck the gun with nearly unnatural accuracy, knocking it out of the thug's hand and causing him to yell, “What the hell?”

“Score,” the girl whispered, shortly before climbing down from the rooftop, quickly and quietly. As she moved, the man opened his door and tried to get in, but the thug struck him down and took his car keys. He got into the car, shut the door, and started the car, driving away with no regard for the condition of the car's actual owner. The girl quickly ran to the man's side and asked, “Are you all right?”

“He took my car,” the man groaned.

“I saw,” the girl spoke and in the streetlights, her outfit could be seen. It appeared to be Nomex/Kevlar interwoven with leather, styled as a dark red jacket vest with a hood over her head and black pants with red guards on the insides of the thighs. Black archer's gauntlets covered her arms and black buckled boots covered her calves and feet. The hood did not conceal any of her facial features, but mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes and curly red-orange locks could be seen past the hood. A quiver full of arrows rested on her back and a holster for a crossbow was strapped to her right thigh.

This was Lian Harper, born to master marksman and current government liaison Roy Harper - formerly known as Speedy and Arsenal - and master assassin Jade Nguyen, alias Cheshire. Right now, that wasn't the name to which she answered. Right now, she was the Red Hood and she was ready to take down a carjacker.

A red customized motorcycle tore through the streets of Steel City, Red Hood riding it. “Track license plate number 457-25Z,” she ordered the onboard computer in her cycle. The computer accessed the GPS, using it to locate the car identified by that particular license plate number. A map appeared in the small screen, showing her where the car was.

Red Hood sped up, making a hard right and finding herself almost literally on top of the stolen car. The thug made a yelp of surprise and slammed the accelerator, driving as fast as the car could go regardless of the drivers in his way. Red Hood rode after him, easily matching his speed and weaving seamlessly between cars. She pulled out her crossbow and pointed it right at the thug, aiming at his face. The thug tried to get away from her, but he could go no faster.

At the last second, she pointed the crossbow at a tire of the stolen car and fired, perforating said tire. The tire flattened, causing the car to careen to a stop. Red Hood rode up to the car and halted in front of the stolen car, removing herself from her motorcycle. She pulled out her bow and unfolded it to its full size, nocking an arrow in preparation.

“Come out of there,” she said. “You've got nowhere to run and the police will be here soon.”

The thug reluctantly removed himself from the car. He didn't look like he was going to run, and his gun had been taken out of the equation earlier. In fact, it seemed as though he was weighing his options, if he indeed had more than one. Finally, he let out a sigh of defeat, knowing he was beaten. When the police came, he surrendered himself into their custody without so much as a whimper.

One of the arresting officers turned to Red Hood and asked, “What brings you to Steel City?”

“Change of scenery,” Red Hood answered nonchalantly, straddling her motorcycle and riding away. Unbeknownst to her and the arresting officers, there was a burning shadow watching her.

Just off the East Coast, someone rose from the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, making his way across the water and onto a sandy beach. It was night, so hardly anybody was around . . . except for that one couple that wanted the literal meaning of “Sex on the Beach.” Just as the man was about to remove the woman's swimsuit, he spotted something out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. However, there was no one visible, so he returned his focus to his lover.

Just past them, the mysterious entity that had risen from the ocean kept moving. As he moved further and further into the light of civilization, his features became more and more apparent. He appeared to be a boy in his late teens, probably no older than eighteen. Wet black hair was matted to his head, partly obscuring violet-black eyes. A black-and-blue wetsuit-like garment, the blue starting below the shoulders and ending at the hips with a wave-like pattern separating the two colors, clung to his sinewy swimmer's frame.

This boy was Cerdian, born to the mage-king of the underwater kingdom Shayaris, who was none other than former Teen Titan Garth. He was on the surface because Garth had asked him to go, telling him that something would happen very soon and it would happen in Steel City. Garth hadn't given him anything even vaguely resembling a clue as to what that something was, only telling him that it would happen in Steel City.

Unfortunately, from this point forward, there would not be a lot of water. True, there were rivers, but the distances between those rivers were relatively great and Cerdian was not looking forward to traversing them. He was extremely fast on the surface, but that speed wasn't nearly as great as his speed when in contact with water. To make things worse, he was presently in the state of New Jersey and Pennsylvania - the state in which Steel City was located - was a considerable distance from New Jersey.

Suddenly, he began to laugh, scaring the merry crap out of everybody near him. Somebody even shouted at him, “What the hell are you laughing at, you crazy kid?” Cerdian ignored the shout, though; he was too busy realizing just how absent-minded he'd been. He was a mage, damn it; he could just make a portal to Steel City!

His laughter having died down, he generated a spell-portal and stepped through it, entering Steel City. Now that he had arrived in the city his father had once defended as a founding member of the Titans East, he would have to figure out what was going to happen here. Unbeknownst to him, a burning shadow watched, watched and waited.

The next morning, a red blur exited Keystone City, rocketing eastward. If someone had sharp enough senses to keep up with that blur, they would have seen a redheaded girl dressed in a black leather jacket over a skintight red suit with vestigial sleeves. A silver lightning bolt extended from the left shoulder and down to just above where her belly button would be. Silver lightning bolts extended down the outsides of her legs. A pair of sunglasses with silver lenses and lightning-styled ear stems covered her eyes.

Iris West, alias Kid Flash, was on her way to Steel City and she was carrying a package. In addition to being a superhero, she was also the super-speed equivalent of a bike messenger. It was a good way of making money and she was still helping people, so it wasn't exactly a dishonest thing. Of course, the old fuddy-duddies her dad knew from his Justice League days had nagged her about it, but that was because they were old fuddy-duddies.

Arriving in Steel City, she stopped in front of a house and rang the bell. Within the space of seconds, a teenage boy answered the bell. He looked her up and down with disbelief in his eyes. “Holy . . . you're Kid Flash!”

“Yeah, that's me,” Kid Flash replied with a grin. “Is Mr. Schrodinger here?”

“Yeah, my dad's here,” the boy answered. He moved aside and allowed a man that resembled an older version of him to come to the door.

“Here's your package, Mr. Schrodinger,” Kid Flash greeted cheerfully, handing him the package. She also held out an electronic pad with an electronic pen. “Sign here.”

Mr. Schrodinger signed and returned the pad to Kid Flash. “Thank you very much, Kid Flash.”

“You're welcome!” Kid Flash answered. “Have a nice day!” She sped away from the house, thinking that it was about time she paid a visit to her old friend Lian. After that, she might stick around to check out the sights. All in all, it seemed to be a nice day . . . if she wasn't aware of the hidden shadow watching her.

Back in Star City, a boy in his late teens - no older than 17, most likely - neared to a familiar three-story house. The boy had short red-blond hair and crystal blue eyes. He was of roughly average height, maybe slightly taller, and dressed in a red jacket over a pale blue shirt and black pants. This boy was none other than Bobby Troy Long and he was on his way to see his mother and new stepfather, Donna and Roy Harper.

Bobby knocked on the door and was soon greeted by Donna, who hugged him tightly. She didn't hug him so tightly that it killed him, although he was more durable than the average teenager, but it was strong enough to definitely be felt.

“Hi, Mom,” he greeted.

Donna released him, holding him at arm's length so she could get a good look at him. After discerning that there was nothing particularly out of place about him, she told him, “Come in.”

Bobby entered the house, where he was greeted by Roy. “Hey, squirt. You actually grew a bit while you were away.”

“I didn't notice,” Bobby remarked dryly.

Donna grabbed Bobby's hand and looked at the knuckles, seeing bruises on them. “You had a really rough mission, didn't you?”

“That, and . . .” Bobby looked down, not wanting to meet his mother's eyes. “. . . I got into a fight with a Green Lantern.”

“How did you get into a fight with a Green Lantern?” Donna asked in that mixture of concern and reproach for which mothers were infamous. She looked him dead in the eyes, letting him know that there was no way he could squirm out of this.

“We had a disagreement,” Bobby stated. “One thing led to another and the next thing I know, we're trading punches.”

“Did he fight dirty?” Roy asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Donna asked.

“I'm just curious,” Roy answered.

“We both fought dirty,” Bobby admitted. “He took off his ring and I deactivated the enhancements in my exo-mantle. Then we went at it and . . . let's just say he looked worse than me when I left him.”

“I know that the Darkstars and the Green Lanterns don't get along, but I don't think any kind of peace is going to be achieved between them with you getting into fights with Green Lanterns,” Donna remarked with wry disapproval.

“I didn't start the fight,” Bobby protested lamely. Sighing, he went on. “Of course, that's not really much of an excuse.”

“Are you . . . still angry about what I did to you?” Donna asked.

“Frankly, yes,” Bobby replied. “Perhaps that's why I joined the Darkstars in the first place. Perhaps that's why . . . I did a lot of things. I don't hate you, Mom. Never could.” He turned to Roy. “Thanks . . . for helping me get my head on straight and for taking care of my mom.” A smile came to his face. “Now where's my new sister?”

“She went to Steel City,” Roy replied. “Gonna be attending university there.”

“All the way across the country?” Bobby asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Roy confirmed. “I shouldn't be worried. I mean, Lian can take care of herself . . .”

“You're her father, Roy,” Donna said. “Of course you're worried.”

“I think I'm gonna pay Lian a little visit,” Bobby said.

As the young Darkstar flew across the country to Steel City, he took no heed of anything except seeing Lian. He did not even notice that there was someone following him. Whoever it was, it seemed able to keep up with his every motion, no matter how fast he went. It was hidden from his senses and that was what it preferred.

In Steel City that night, a blonde girl leaped from rooftop to rooftop, her agility and strength carrying her safely to each one. She wore a red suit made from carbon nanotubes, a flame-like yellow V shape crossing her chest. She wore darker red elbow-length gloves and thigh-high boots with flame-like edges, as well as a utility belt made of linked yellow disks. Her identity was concealed by a red bird-like mask that protected her eyes with goggle-like lenses.

It didn't take her long to spot two ski-masked men trying to break into an ATM. One was trying to hack into the ATM's computer systems, while the other was acting as a guard. The would-be ATM hacker was wearing a closed black jacket and jeans, while his partner wore a closed duster, concealing nearly his entire body. She figured that the duster-wearing man might have concealed weapons on his person, hence the duster being closed.

She reached into her belt and pulled out twin red bird-styled shuriken, throwing them at separate points near the two would-be robbers. Said robbers-to-be looked around in panic. “What was that?” the guard asked.

“Nothing,” the hacker replied. “Just watch my back.”

The guard scanned the darkness for any interlopers, only to hear something clatter to his left. He turned to investigate it and was summarily tapped on his shoulder. He whirled . . . into a hard knee-jab that knocked the breath out of him. He looked up, only to see that his assailant was the girl who had been observing him. A quick chop to his neck put him down for the count.

The red-clad girl calmly strolled up behind the hacker and tapped his shoulder. The hacker practically screamed in terror and whirled for a futile assault, a futility confirmed by the girl grabbing his wrist in mid-punch and pinning him to a wall with surprising strength. She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, “You know, it's not nice to break into ATMs.” That was his only warning before she brought her knee straight into his family jewels, causing him to crumple in pain.

After leaving an anonymous tip for the police, the girl fired a grappling hook at a nearby ledge and swung into the night. This girl was Liz Kane, alias Flamebird and the daughter of Bette Kane, the first crime-fighter to use the name, a name Liz strove to redeem. At that moment, she was going to find a certain archer who thought to encroach on her territory. Unnoticed by her or anyone else, a fiery shadow watched, biding its time.

Inside a bedroom in a modest two-story house, a teenage boy of approximately 15 or 16 years of age examined a gyroscope with which he'd been tinkering. His skin was fairly dark, sort of a cinnamon-chocolate blend, and his hair was styled in short dreadlocks. His voice, which was currently being used to speak to the flame-wielding Titan Inferno via vid-phone, was excited yet modulated.

“Looks pretty good from here,” Inferno commented.

“Yeah,” the boy, Drew James, agreed. “If I can just work out a few of the kinks . . .”

“It's ok,” Inferno said. “You can do it, Drew.”

“Hey, enough about me,” Drew said. “How about you? When you contacted me, you said you'd figured out another way of using your powers.”

“Phoebus showed me,” Inferno explained. “The way it works is that I create a spherical hard-flame shell and fill it with fire. Then I compress the shell, which gives the energy inside less space in which to move. I compress the shell further to get it as small as I can make it, which traps all that energy. I throw the shell at a target and upon impact, the shell cracks and all that energy is unleashed in a massive explosion.”

“I hope you're not going to use that on people,” Drew spoke a bit warily.

“Not if I can help it,” Inferno answered. “It's a bit overkill.”

“A bit?” Drew asked. “Power like that, it's better used for demolitions. And I hope you don't make more than one of those things at a time.”

“If I ever wanted to make a big explosion like in those mind-numbing action movies . . .” Inferno replied jokingly. “How's your summer treating you, shrinking violet?”

“You know I hate that name,” Drew groaned good-naturedly.

“Sure you do,” Inferno answered sardonically. “But it fits, since you can shrink.”

“That's not all I can do, remember?” Drew asked. “If you keep messing with me like that, I might just become skyscraper height and crush you underneath my boot.”

“Please,” Inferno snorted. “I'd give you hotfoot.”

Just then, Drew heard his mother shouting from downstairs, “Andrew Josiah James! Aren't you ever going to sleep?”

“In a few minutes!” Drew hollered back.

“You said that thirty minutes ago!” Drew's mother shouted. “Now tell Jeremiah you'll talk to him tomorrow! You have class in the afternoon! And tell him I said hello and good night!”

“My mother says hello and good night,” Drew said to Inferno. “And I've gotta sleep now. Mother's orders.”

“Makes me glad I don't live with my parents,” Inferno chuckled. “Tell her I said hello. Night, Drew.”

“Night, Jeremiah,” Drew answered, ending the conversation by shutting off his vid-phone. He put aside his gyroscope and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth before going to bed. Blissfully unaware of the fiery shadow watching him, he slept.

On the outside, Gen13 looked like any other nightclub, complete with a neon sign identifying it brightly, the colors electric blue and shocking pink. There was also the obligatory tall, muscular, and thus very imposing bouncer at the door, only said bouncer was female, red-haired, and her bare arms were covered in tattoos. Inside was very similar to a typical nightclub, with tables for people who wanted to sit down, a bar for people to sit and drink, and a large open area reserved for people who wanted to dance. The one significant difference was the clientele; namely, they were metahumans, all possessed of a superhuman ability or two.

At the center of the dance floor was a tall platinum blonde girl, moving gracefully and sensually to the pulse of the trip-hop/rock fusion booming from the speakers. A zip-up black corset restrained and emphasized her more-than-ample bosom, while leather briefs molded to the curves of her hips and backside. Thigh-high black boots encased her feet and legs and accentuated them at the same time. Her green eyes were heavy-lidded with the ecstasy of the dance.

She felt somebody come up behind her and heard that same someone whisper in her ear, “May I have this dance, mademoiselle?”

She chuckled and answered breathily, “Yes, you may have this dance . . . and maybe more if you're good, monsieur.”

The platinum blonde felt the male behind her move in closer, placing his hands squarely on her leather-clad hips. He began to move to the music with her, grinding his pelvis against her shapely backside. If she was aware of this, she did not make any move to stop him or pull away. Instead, she continued dancing with him, even seeming to encourage him with the subtle shifts of her hips.

“Would you care to tell me your name?” the male asked.

“It's Lilim,” the platinum blonde replied. “Yours?”

“Kale,” the male answered. “Want a drink?”

“How about I treat you?” Lilim replied.

The two were sitting at a table sipping their respective drinks. Being not of drinking age, Lilim had gotten a nonalcoholic beverage, a simple lemon-lime soda. Kale, a brunet male just over the drinking age and dressed in a black jacket over gray clothes, was sipping a martini.

“I've heard of you,” Kale said.

“Really? Tell me about myself,” Lilim purred.

“They call you Succubus,” Kale went on. “They say that one look into your eyes is enough to draw any man under your spell . . . and that they pay for it later.”

“What about you, Kale?” Lilim asked. “Are you under my spell yet?”

Kale paused, examining Lilim with his eyes. Those eyes started from the top of her head, which was covered by long silver-blonde hair, and lowered themselves to her forehead, to her graceful pale eyebrows, and to her crystalline green eyes. Those eyes locked on his, staring into them, filling his mind with a temptation so powerful that he could not resist. Reluctantly, he lowered his eyes to the slope of her nose, to plump pale pink lips that were being licked by a dainty pink tongue. He swallowed.

“Do you want to go back with me?”

Lilim smiled. “Yes.”

The next morning, Lilim awakened in a king-sized bed that wasn't hers, next to none other than Kale, who was in a dead sleep. She kissed him on the cheek, getting out of bed and going to shower. Once that was over with, she dressed herself again and left the hotel room and the sleeping Kale.

“Walking is so passé,” she thought, concentrating on her newfound power. Almost immediately, she felt the wind lifting her up, faster and higher until she was over the skyscrapers and speeding across the sky. A smile crossed her face as she flew, merrily oblivious to the darkly burning entity hidden from the senses of would-be observers.

End Notes: Too bad there wasn't a lot of action. If there had been, I might have been able to pad this chapter out a bit. Then again, you might be grateful to me for not writing this chapter as long as I usually write my chapters. Fortunately, this is just the setup piece, where I introduce you to all the main characters.

Remember when I said that the main Titans wouldn't have a role in this? That's true, but that doesn't mean they won't make cameo appearances like in the case of Inferno with Drew.

Donna Troy, for those of you who don't know, was Wonder Girl, one of the original Titans in the comic universe. She was later known as Troia and Darkstar, but nowadays she's simply known as Donna Troy. The simple version of her origin is that she's the younger sister of Wonder Woman, but her origin is among the most complicated in the DCU. By the way, Donna made an appearance in the most recent issue of Teen Titans Go (the animated continuity comic book), so go read that.

Everything else I'll explain in due time. For now, just tell me what you thought of this chapter.