Chapter 53 - My SI Stash #53 - I want to play a Game by Chairtastic (Teen Titans/Justice League) (1/2)
-SI gets a Yellow Power Ring and trains under Arkillo.
*The writing is honestly pretty good, + it's the only Teen Titans/Justice League SI fic that I know of.
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Sypnosis: Adding in a summary because why the hell not. Listen to the story of hate, fear, can-can dancers, and poker playing fish. An average psychopath from Earth is pulled into the DC universe by a Sinestro Corps ring, and reality ensues from there. Expect Lovecraftian imagery, mind f_u_c_kery, politics, and six teenagers with attitude saving the day.Rated: T
Words: 200K
Posted on: forums.spacebattles.com/threads/i-want-to-play-a-game-teen-titans-justice-league-si.271255/#post-12016745 (Chairtastic)
PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)
-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)
Chapter 1+2
I once saw a gif on the internet; the word 'sonder' defined over a busy highway near a big city I didn't recognize. According to the image, sonder means that every person ever seen from the viewer's perspective has a story, and that their part in it can be just as profound, or unimportant as the viewer is in theirs, using more flowery words. I couldn't help but wonder if that's what word applied to me, being mugged on my college's campus. Sonder didn't seem to fit.
Well. Mugged wasn't exactly the right word to use, either. A gaunt black man with a knife, demanding cash I did not have. Farce; that seemed better. Comedy drawn from horseplay and ludicrous situations. He was slightly taller than me, skinny to my fat; I recognized him. I had given him twenty-five dollars for gas outside the station a couple months previous. Farce was becoming a better fit by the second.
I glanced up, we were by one of the lesser buildings on campus, but some staff were still around. None of them with window offices, though. I didn't look the mugger in the eye, but slightly to the left of him and smiled, then told him I had no money for him.
I put my free right hand into a coat pocket, lots of pens in there, and a cell phone; aha. I pulled it from my pocket, and showed it too him, semi-touch screen, internet connectivity, b_a_r_e bones for the modern world. He reached forward to take it, and I swung my computer bag, along with the seven-hundred dollar computer inside at his head.
The crack from impact was satisfying and infuriating. The mugger hit the ground, groaning and letting go of his knife to clutch at his now bleeding temple. Idiot. A swift kick removed the weapon from sight, and a second put the black man on his back, where I could easily plant my foot on his neck and put three-hundred plus pounds of weight to good use. I leaned over him, increasing pressure to kill (heh) his thrashing, putting him in my shadow as I blocked the street light.
”You didn't account for someone fighting back, did you?” I wanted to kill this man. Who brandished a weapon at me, who demanded money of me, and caused me to possibly break my beloved computer. He desperately shakes his head no, trying to push my foot off his most vital of areas. I curled my lip at him. ”This isn't amateur hour, you know. Having a second person as backup would have you out of this situation.” I raise my phone, sliding to unlock and start dialing nine-one-one.
”Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a middle-aged woman answered, and I placed the phone to speaker mode.
”I have a African-American male, looks to be mid to late thirties, who just attacked me with a lethal weapon, attempting to rob me. I am uninjured, he is currently incapacitated, could you send the sheriff to the community college, the parking lot by the elementary school?” I keep my tone even, a slow grin creeping on my face, an urge to let the triumph show itching at my skin.
”A squad car is on its way sir, please stay on the line. Can I have your contact information, sir?”
I gave my name and number, and a moment later, she patched in the sheriff, who inquired about the mugger's identity.
He didn't seem like sharing at first, so I decided to chime in, ”The nice man asked you your name, sir, it's rude not to answer.” If pressed I could maybe have remembered the name I had written on the check, but I was not in the mood for such diving. Still he didn't answer, so I put progressively more of my considerable weight onto the neck I was stepping on. His eyes started bugging out from the strain, and he rasped out his name. I was likely going to get in trouble for this, and I didn't care.
For years, I had been waiting for someone to try this, to see if I could do exactly this (well, not exactly, but assert dominance). The power was...delicious.
The mote floats around, leaving a tail of yellow light to linger for a second behind it, then streaked at me, prompting me to back up off the mugger's neck, and bring a hand to my face. The light grew blinding for a moment as something clamped down upon the base of my middle finger, squeezing tight.
”You have the ability instil great fear.” A mysterious voice from nowhere. Not a good sign. ”Welcome to the Sinestro Corps.” What? What?!
Then suddenly I'm being dragged skyward by my hand. The mugger quickly fleeing as he, the campus, and the town it was attached to begin to shrink.
The fact that I am flying didn't hit me until I could see the Mississippi River. I didn't start panicking until I could see St. Louis. Flailing at whatever was tugging my hand, and trying to process what could cause this.
Then the blinding yellow light comes again, and the scenery changes. No longer the Midwest, the sky, or even Earth- for certainly Earth was not this yellow.
A cavern, a city of yellow metal build into the walls. A massive palace at the center, with a courtyard where a yellow object sits: a sphere with two cones coming from the base and top, along with wing-like beams coming from the sides. The shape...is wrong. Something about it shouldn't be. An itch forms at the back of my neck, my heartbeat grows loud in my ears as whatever force drew me to the sky, and to this place drew me now toward that edifice.
A fight or flight response, I dimly acknowledge. What do I do?
A deep breath. Calm, in control, think. I had the potential to instill fear? This wasn't earth? Too many questions, not enough information.
The yellow glowing geometry nightmare was glowing closer, and near it I could see a few figures, partly dressed in black which stood out from the yellow dais both they and the structure stood upon. Patience, see how deep the hole you've dug yourself into is before you do anything.
Don't make a bad first impression. Bad enough you're wearing khakis to another planet.
Here's hoping their fashion sense is as bad as their color scheme.
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I have this fic planned a fair bit ahead; not a complete skeleton yet, mind. Feedback is appreciated, and critiques welcome. I apologize for taking up one of these, but I had the itch. I'm going to post these when I can, life is hectic right now (when is it not?). I'll try for at least twice a week, and you're free to set me on fire if I miss a post without a good reason.
Chapter 2
The touchdown on the dais is surprisingly smooth given I had the aerodynamics of a flying whale. Actually, come to think of it, some whales would be pretty aerodynamic, given they had to swim constantly. The aerodynamics of a flying boulder, then.
There was a moment of silence while I looked at the people (liberal definition of that word), and they looked at me. A blue woman, not properly dressed, with a flowing cape was to the right. A book floated in front of her, about half the size of an unabridged dictionary, with the...disturbing symbol etched onto the cover; a yellow circle with two lines branching off like wings at the bottom, and another forming a sort of handle shape at the top. A chain of yellow light flowed from the book to her wrist, so it was likely important, and by extension, she was too. Her expression was distant.
To the left, a twelve foot, musclebound pile of f_u_c_k you with a face like one of those extinct proto-elephants sans the trunk and ears. He (I thought it was a he, anyway), was dressed in a yellow and black uniform with the wrongness symbol, and given the radically different facial structure, was impossible to tell expression.
And at the center was...I had the feeling I had seen that person before. Yellow armor, magenta skin, a vague look of Adolf Hitler... ”Sinestro,” I said, pieces finally fitting into place. ”You're Sinestro.”
”I am.” His voice wasn't all that intimidating, given his history. No echoes, no unnatural elements, just a vaguely English drawl. Oh god. Sinestro was one of the biggest villains to exist; and he was standing five feet from me, looking vaguely annoyed.
I took deep breaths, trying to keep the panic from running rampant. ”Sinestro, sir, what...how...what is this?” I was messing up, I could tell from the increasing annoyance in the pink man's face.
”Good question, human,” he tilted his head over to the woman, and gestured at me, ”what is this?” She flipped a page in the book, disinterested apparently, then spoke.
”David TiBalt, Sinestro Corpsman of sector 2814. The ring's coding checks out, and shows no sign of tampering.” Her voice, unlike Sinestro's, had a subtle warble to an otherwise lofty tone. This couldn't be happening, I must have been dreaming from watching the Green Lantern movie. I never actually had a lucid dream before, and no idea how to wake up; or if I could. The cliché of pinching myself wouldn't actually work, would it?
”Um,” I said, deciding to press on before I found out if I could die in a lucid dream, ”is that unusual, sirs, madame?”
”Such manners,” Sinestro said, his tone of bland surprise, and he approached me. His expression grew more intense as he came near, I wanted to back away, but found my legs would not move. The pink man was slightly shorter than me, but given the size of the elephant-thing, I hoped he wasn't against looking up to people. ”It is unusual, yes, because this ring,” he grabbed my arm in a vice and raised my hand up, ”was destroyed six months ago, and has not been remade.”
I didn't understand what he was saying, at first, but then saw a bauble on my middle finger. A ring of gleaming yellow, with an inset design of the wrong-ness symbol- Sinestro Corps symbol, I realized.
I said nothing for a moment and then asked: ”Um...could it be because I'm not...from here?”
”Elaborate.” The vice on my arm tightened, causing the bones to pop in their joints.
”Ow. Um. Where I come from you, sir...you're not real.” Again the grip tightened, and the pink man- I had to remember his species name at some point- tilted his head forward in a way I chose to mean he was losing patience. ”I mean, um, you're a character in a story where I come from.”
Sinestro released me and walked back toward the- central battery I now remembered it called, though not the same design as what I grew up with. ”Lyssa, Arkillo, theories.” If Lyssa was the woman that meant elephant-thing was Arkillo.