Log file from Dolphin.

01/12/00 7:57:04 PM

Metro: St. Martin's Island

	This island borough lies at the mouth of the Hob's and West
Rivers. It is roughly divided into two districts. To the east is Uptown:
once Metropolis' premier amusement area, it was destroyed in a
confrontation between Superman and Ambush Bug. The fairgrounds were
recently replaced with high-rise condominiums and corporate office
buildings. Much of its beachfront property remains the most expensive in
the city.
	To the west is the East Side, which has the distinction of being
the communications and graphics capital of the world. Originally the
property of printer Gustav Grimes, The East Side is filled with steel and
glass mid-rises that house many of the world's acknowledged geniuses of
graphic and commercial art, architecture, and communications.
Headquartered here are Metropolis' four daily newspapers (the Daily
Planet, the Daily News, the Star, and the Eagle), the communications and
publishing conglomerates that own them, and several television and radio
networks, including Galaxy Communications, Sun Industries, and UBS, Inc.

Contents:
Booster Gold(#106PJnc)
Huntress
Catwoman
Mitch Shelley
Batman
Green Arrow
Famine
Hawkgirl
War(#743PXJUc)
Preacher

Obvious exits:
Harbor <E>  New Troy <SW>  Planet Krypton <PK>  Daily Planet <DP>  Airport <AP>

The sky has been growing ever darker over the last few days in Metropolis.
The end is coming, and the people of this city have known for some time.
St. Martin's Island has been racked by storms, quakes, and more over the
last few days. It is then that a bolt of lightning flashes! A man dressed
in black appears from no-where, and says "Come my children... Make
ready..."

The sound of metal slicing through air sounds rythmically in time to the
muffled beat of horse hooves. Twin saucers cutting through the air still
as Famine pauses on a rise, staring at this jewel of the Free World. She
started her journey in north Africa. Her travels took her across four
continents, and yet...she has never seen a more beautiful sight than the
city of Metropolis. The round orb that nestles between her breasts glows a
dark red as she lifts her chin, horse rearing up on hind legs. /He/ calls.
That voice.

"'Tis time." For a moment, something within her screams, "NO!". Famine
dismisses it easily...surging forward with wild abandon, eager to please
and plunder this city.

She rides a horse the color of bone. From St. Martin's Island comes Death,
and her mount's hooves are a slower, calmer counterpoint to Famine's wild
abandon. Death is not excitable; Death is relentless. Her features are
marble, her blue eyes are ice. The dark stone at her throat pulses with
something indiscernably terrifying - a sucking, as if she wore the shard
of a black hole. Insatiable. Incongruously, her platinum hair is damp as
it flows past her shoulders and down her back. Grey mist rises around her
as she rides, and the massive scythe gleams in her hand. Behind her,
unseen as of yet, are the whispers and gibberings of unholy things. Pause
here. Death, as well, looks over the city... and then guides the horse
forward.

Returning to Metropolis for the third time since his transformation, War,
the only Horsemen without his horse, silently glides over the horizon
toward St. Martin's Island. The red cape behind him flutters softly in the
breeze as he approaches, dropping lower in the air as he does. Goggles on
is face, where he looks is impossible to determine, but his expression is
still easy to determine. One of stone. No emotion is visible at all as he
approaches the man. As he lands a few feet from the man, War reaches for
his sword at his side, holding the hilt as he bows low. As he stands, a
small glint can be seen at his ear, though it is impossible to tell if it
is because of a trick of the light, or something else... For a moment as
he straightens once more, something inside him almost causes War to draw
his sword and strike the man before him down, but it is pushed to the side
as the Avatar moves instead to stand at the man's left side. An honour
guard.

Lightning strikes again with a sound like the toll of doom. In the
blue-white flash, the sphere atop of the Daily Planet can be seen. And
beneath it, at the edge of the rooftop, a figure in black stands, cape
unfurled to his side, whipping in the wind like a banner for some shadowy
army. The Dark Knight peers down at the signs of the expected arrivals,
the display inside of his helm showing range, angle of approach, and a
smattering of trivia before his eyes. He speaks into his comlink,
broadcasting over numerous channels; emergency crews, police, army,
and...naturally...any superhero team in listening distance. "I make three
of the Horsemen. Pestilence is unaccounted for. All of them gain their
power from artifacts on their person. Famine's orb. Possibly Death's
choker. I haven't ascertained War's yet, but .... Green Arrow - you got my
package?"

It might have looked like a simple, billboard for BGI. Yes it might have,
but right behind Booster's big cheesy mouth, sits Booster Gold. He has his
blasters set at full and he taps his com back. "Yeah, i figured as much,
shall we coordinate Batman, because to be honest, i think it's time." He
waits, for a confirmation before going for his plan. He wants to make this
efficient as possible without taking any mroe lives. He taps his wrist
control, setting up a nice little solid forcfield about 30 feet in front
of the horsemen, say, about leg heigth.

Catwoman slinks along, just out of view, deep in the shadows of the
gleaming city. Sleek, silent, she has abandoned her weaponry after the
Alaskan debacle.* If she's to be of any use today, it won't be on the
front lines. She creeps quietly, waiting.

*See last issue! -- Ed.

Green Arrow stands ready at his ambush point; 20 feet up on fire escape.
Oddly, with the fate of the world in the balance his thoughts are not on
the coming battle, the lives at stake and all that is now resting on his
shoulders. No, Oliver Queen thinks back with an odd kind of nostalga about
the situation and how not too long ago he swore he'd never be doing this
again. That saving the world stopped and ended with what good he could do
on the streets and not with a bunch of men in silly costumes who could
break buildings or read minds.

And now here he is... with a new group of heroes, in a new costume... much
like the old one he wore back in the JLA, save this one has the hood he
came to use and Seattle. And then... well, a few other reminders of the
old days are resting in his quiver... another promise broken, but this
time for a good reason. There's a few trick arrows that might prove useful
here and while Oliver has come to laugh at his tools of old, he's just
enough of a pragmist to put image aside when needed. His thoughts are
jarred by the dark monotone coming through the earpiece. He taps a button
on his comm and responds. "Yeah... I got it... brought a few of my old
toys along so none of them will wonder why I'm using an odd arrow..."

The Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Never would she have imagined she would
see them in her lifetime. Yet, it is only fitting that against the devil
spawn an angel arise to enter righteous combat, a sword of retribution in
her hand. Although she has chosen a weapon she is more skilled with, being
her morning star. In the darkness, she floats on the strong winds as she
prepares to enter her first battle. Perhaps her grandfather was wrong?
What can she do against the likes of the Horsemen? Swallowing down her
doubts, Hawkgirl adjusts her grip on the weapon in her right hand. Her
eyes are focused on the ground but from many hours of practice, she knows
to not forget about the airspace around her. Too many people know how to
fly, after all. Upon spotting the Horsemen and their leader, she feels one
last flash of doubt which she forces into a corner of her mind where she
walls it up. This is what she is meant to do. This is her purpose. Her
grandfather was insane to trust her with this task...

Having not made herself known to the other heroes, she does not coordinate
with anyone. Instead, she acts alone. Perhaps her first mission will be
her last as she makes what many would consider a suicidal move. Folding
her wings, she gains speed as she slices through the air toward her mark.
The weapon is brought into motion with practiced ease, the sound perhaps
giving her away as she approaches. She prays to whatever powers may be
that her aim is true and the attack is not anticipated. Her target...War.

What evil lurks in the hearts of men? Mitch Shelley has no damn idea. But
his shadow thrusts itself into being on a nearby wall nonetheless. A long
figure of black in trenchcoat and hat, with only one white eye visible as
a distinguishing feature. The shadow wavers, seeming to take stock of the
beginnings of new chaos, then slowly moves across the walls and streets.
On occasion, in vanishes in the relative darkness, but then returns with
every lightning flash, skimming across surfaces, and seeking its prey, the
rat bastards who have been tearing up the G.D. U.S. of A.

The man in black looks carefully at each of his servants, walking from one
to one. "One of you is delayed... Hmmm no matter you three shall do." He
gives a sly evil grin, "My charms have done their work. Soon my children
this world shall be no more, and we will be masters of the next. But be
weary..." He glances up and around "The biggest test is about
approaching... these fools still think they can stop us. Destroy them
all."

The Huntress is nestled into the shadows of that same building that Oliver
Queen currently occupies, at least fire escape wise. She looks up toward
him, listening over her own com unit while the boys seem to do a little
shop talk, only a bit of which she is familiar with...package? What
package might this be? And then she looks up and over toward the billboard
that Booster Gold is calling his hiding spot. Then, she wraps herself
deeper within her cloak and the shadows and her attention seems to focus
after taking in the arrival of the Horsemen. But its not Death or War that
seems to have it, two you would think would definitely be a cause for
concern, but rather Famine. And her expression is not a pleased one as she
does a last minute check on her equipment and then begins to scale the
fire escape within those shadows to the roof.

Famine spurs her horse on faster, finally slowing as she nears her final
destination--then catches sight of Catwoman. With expertise whe wheels her
horseat the last possible second, running down the feline with wild
abandon...and avoiding the clutches of the Huntress. Twin balances swish
in mace-like fashion as Famine ducks low--extending her arm to cut the
Cat.

As Death's mount reaches the man in black, it stops with a single toss of
its head and a stamp of one hoof. She sits astride it quietly - bare feet,
a simple robe, one webbed hand wrapped in the horse's mane while her other
hand grips the pole of the shining blade above her head. She watches her
master as he walks between his creations; for a moment, her jaw clenches.
As if she fights to say something -- or, perhaps, to hold something back.
It is the only disturbance in her calm, and it is swiftly smoothed away.
She nods to the man in black; her gaze takes in her comrades, and then the
rooftops. Around her, the grey mist intensifies and begins to spread;
while Famine spurs forward, Death pause to take stock. From the direction
of the ocean and the fog left behind her, slurping shufflings are audible.

Nothing exists, should you ask War, other than the man before him. At the
mention of the one delayed Horseman, the corner of the boy's mouth pulls
up slightly. Ironic that the fastest of them would be the one that would
be late. However, the small smile fades almost as quickly as it appears
and the stoic warrior returns to filling that position. As he is paying
attention to the master, War is blindsided by Hawkgirl, her weapon hitting
him easily and he is knocked slightly to the side. An inch, perhaps,
before his head snaps up to lock on the girl. "You would attack the Avatar
of War, girl?" he intones to her, drawing his own sword to point it at the
winged woman. "Come then. You will learn humility at the hand of War.
Humility before you die." With a thought, he lifts into the air, gripping
the dragonhead hilt tightly as he awaits Hawkgirl's response to his
challange.

Batman levels his right gauntlet at the ledge of an adjacent building. He
gives a short glance skywards, as if expecting, any moment, a streak of
blue and red to appear.

Blanking his mind, cleaning the late, a last, clear image rises up. His
parents, expelling their last breaths up into the sky...soaking the
sidewalk with their blood. Death winning. Again. Clarity returns, and the
black wall of despair is replaced by cool, controlled rage.

	The gauntlet piton fires, and he swings out over the skyline of
Metropolis, making a gradual descent towards the melee, seeking another
vantage point.

A figure in red and golden robes sweeps out of the shadows of another
building as the heroes advance. With a twitch of a glove, a burning blade
snicks out of his right wrist and he drops to the pavement with an
acrobatic twist of his body. His rectangular eyeholes lock onto the figure
of Famine, and Azrael speaks into his comlink. "Got her in my sights.
Moving in."

Catwoman catches the swish of air and tromp of hooves behind her just a
second too late. Her body twists out of the way just as one of Famine's
metal discs rakes down her back, slicing her costume and welting her skin.
"Must be losing my touch," she mutters through gritted teeth as she
scrabbles just out of the way of the oncoming horseman, managing to stay a
cat's whisker away from certain doom.

Green Arrow doesn't blink at Batman's lack of a response. The two have
worked together more than enough times for Ollie to know that if he
doesn't say anything else to say, he approves of what is going on. His
plan confirmed by silence, Ollie readies one of is old toys... a Boomerang
arrow... and starts looking for his target: War. He finds the target
quickly, and sees Hawkgirl facing off. Ollie thinks a few choice curse
words... he had been hoping to lure the Kryptonian Kid in close... still,
as long as War is distracted... Ollie holds off on his plan for now,
waiting to see how Hawkgirl handles herself...

"That's Hawkgirl to you," she replies to the words from War. Hawkgirl is
already rising back into the air, making sure to keep him in her
peripheral vision. At least she got his attention. Waiting until he is
well above his compatriots, she begins spinning the morning star again.
"If you think you can take me, I deserve to die. But I don't go down easy,
flyboy. Come and get some..." Even as she says it, she is moving forward
herself as she attempts to foul the sword. The morning star is spun
forward in a fast, sharp blow, attempting to wrap the chain around the
blade so that she might yank if free. That in and of itself might be a
trick though as this is no weakling she has decided to annoy. In her mind,
she knows the bravado is completely false and she realizes she should have
thought about her plan (or lack thereof) prior to just smacking him like
that. Chalk one up to lack of experience. She sincerely hopes there will
be future ones to add to the list instead of just the one before the
tallies are obsolete.

Huntress says "Damn," comes the angry curse from the Huntress as Famine
begins making a head for...Catwoman? Hmm. Interesting. Huntress finishes
her assent onto the roof and looks around, checking the positions of
everyone else and frowns deeply. Her jaw tightens but she knows she should
wait for as clean a shot as possible. The last thing she needs to do is
seriously injure one of these people, who dispite all appearance, really
are heroes. She clenches her fists together and waits, preparing to
strike."

Mitch's shining white eye surveys the three horsemen. The little one may
have died after all, since he isn't around, apparently. But the bitch who
got away from him in the Big Apple is here. And apparently she brought the
Groovy Ghoulies again. The shadow slides across the ground with
unbelievable speed, even for an independently existing shadow, and extends
its right arm as a clothesline, aimed at the neck of the shadow of Death
and intended to knock her off of her horse. His one advantage in this
ethereal form is surprise. Who keeps an eye on their own shadow?

The man in black begins to laugh. That maniacal type of laugh from those
horor movies where someone is about to get screwed over big time. "You
fools! You cannot defeat them! They belong to me now, and so does your
fate." His image changes to that of a woman, then a sort of a demon form,
then back to a man. What this being is... is a mystery as well.

Famine whirls, her mace of twin saucers swinging high in the air, as she
twists in the saddle--letting Catwoman go nearly unscathed.. Her horse
moves in an elaborate dance as the burning blade attracts her like a
beacon: holy flame against that which is most unholy. Black lips peel back
to expose a white sneer as Famine rears up, sighting Azrael, and opens her
mouth, letting loose a barrage of subvocal concussive waves to
specifically target him. They slam one after another in bruising
concussive force--only a slight vibration to others. After ten second she
relents, looking back over her shoulder: she must meet her maker.

She has always been a team player.

Does Death /have/ a shadow? It would seem so... her dark reflection is
fleeting at best, illuminated by lightning, a shifting dimness in the pale
grey mist. It is enough. Fortunate that she was holding to the horse; she
is jerked backward as the Resurrection Man's shadow-form strikes the
shadow of her neck. A pulse of darkness from the stone at her throat; she
jerks on the mane in her hands as she grabs for balance. The horse,
startled, rears and rises - another flash of lightning to illuminate this:
Death, with her white hair shining and streaking in the wind, scythe above
her head and blue eyes frosted, seeking her foe. The hooves of the beast
beneath her regain the ground with a clatter and she circles the creature
roughly, expression intently searching. She has not yet noticed the
shadow.

Which bravado is false? That of Hawkgirl, or the confidence of War in his
own skill with the sword? As the morning star is swung, it clashes with
the boy's weapon, though his grip stays tight around it. "No girl. You do
not deserve the right of a name in my presence." With a sharp dug down,
the sword is pulled free of the chain, almost as quickly as it was wrapped
up, and this time it is War who attacks with a quick slash, almost as soon
as the sword is removed. For a an experienced warrior, it should be easy
to avoid. That glint at his ear is seen again as his earring flashes in
the light... Or is that it...?

With a hydraulic hiss, Batman lands on the sidewalk to the rear of the
cluster of Horseman and their dark master. He feels the distinct chill of
the presence of these beings together in close proximity, but he's
mastered fear now. Circling to the blind side of Mortis' current position,
he says "Azrael, back off," into his com. He yanks a cannister from his
belt, popping the lid. "They're deadly at short range. Keep moving.
Distraction, defense; if you see an opening to take the orb from Famine or
the choker from Death, take it." He flicks the flashbang at Mortis,
intending to blind and deafen her. Or at least get her attention.

Catwoman uncoils her whip and lets it crack, calling after Famine, "Not
even good enough to shave off one life, and I've eight to spare." She
murmurs to herself, "Brilliant plan, girl. Brilliant."

Azrael takes the sonic blast from Famine full in the front, unable to duck
in time. He flies back against a wall, then slumps forwards. Ribs cave in,
blood spatters the inside of his mask. But Jean-Paul Valley smiles to
himself, his assassin's reflexes kicking in. He fans out to circle Famine,
then glances around to see if Mortis' undead army has made their presence
known yet. His second wristblade slides forth and ignites.

Green Arrow watches as... who he assumes is a new Hawkgirl clashes with
War, nostalga overriding him again as he thinks about his old debating
partner and teammate Katar. He'd be in the same spot, swatting away at the
bad guy while Ollie snuck up from behind with some kind of wammy. "I feel
like I've seen this story before..." Ollie mutters, as he readies his
"wammy"; the package from Batman and with a quick motion he pulls back...
and fires the arrow at War's back while the Horseman is distracted.

Dodging backwards, Hawkgirl feels the breeze of the blade passing entirely
too close to her arm as she brings the morning star back around. He
doesn't know how to use a sword? By seeing the grip he wields, seeing the
way he moves with it, she realizes he is clueless. That brings a surge of
confidence to Hawkgirl. He might be stronger but he is clumsy with his
weapon of choice. "A word of advice, Oh Great Avatar? Don't grip the hilt
so tight. Makes it entirely too easy to send a shock up your arm, numbing
it, which will make you lose your grip." Then she actually winks at him,
hoping to annoy him which may make him goof up. The morning star is
twirled upwards in an attempt to knock the blade aside, not disarm, yet
the motion will hopefully bring the spiked surface in connection with
War's ribcage under the sword arm. She doesn't put all her strength behind
the motion though as that would leave her open as well. Not that her full
strength could likely effect him. She has no idea there is someone helping
her against her dance partner now.

The Huntress takes out her grappling hook and again swings down onto the
ground and sees Azrael hit the wall with a none too choice splat. That
could not have been a good thing. And then she's making her way toward the
position of the gathering Horsemen.

Well, the clothesline didn't work, and Mitch learned to fight from
watching reruns of Starsky and Hutch. His repertoire is mostly exhausted.
Thus, he falls back on Bonanza...the 'Hos' style. Sliding through the
misty shroud and the dimness cast by Death in the death fog which
surrounds her, Mitch positions his shadow between hers and that of the
horse's head such that were he there to cast the shadow, he would be
sitting in front of her on the horse, but facing her. That quick move
accomplished, he rears back and aims a punch at her face.

Famine only glanced back to see Azrael, and to check for Catwoman's
shadowy form. These creatures are but penciled in footnotes to the true
destiny which awaits. Her head turns as she focuses on the Dark Man, orb
feeling hot against her heart as it beckons in a blood red glow. She
cannot be distracted. She must join her horsemen who are even now under
assault. Just a short distance--and for a second she scans the horizon for
Pestilence...as she moves closer to the Daily Planet building.

Where Death rides, Hell comes behind her.... thus runs the quotation, does
it not? And, ah. There they are. Just at the edges of sight, now, crawling
and shambling and lurching. A few were once men and women; zombies now,
and bloated with ocean water. More still should never have been seen on
this earth. Tentacles, scales, slime and appendanges... the demons are
coming.

Death herself is rather unceremoniously punched in the face. Her head
jerks to the side as her eyes narrow; again, she rocks backward, barely
keeping a grip on the horse with her legs as strands of hair come loose in
her hand. The steed shifts in protest, but Death barely notices; she grips
the scythe, sends it twisting nearly impossibly between herself and the
horse as she attempts to cut her unseen enemy. Her shadow, of course, does
the same. Then the explosion goes off. Flash. Bang. Too bright to see
anything for the next instant.

As Hawkgirl's morning star hits, War raises his hand to backhand the girl
away, growing angry. Before his blow, which would take down a skyscraper,
can hit, there is a solid thunk as the arrow from the archer hits him
squarly in the back, though the boy's now weakened blow continues toward
Hawkgirl. As the radiation from the kryptonite courses through the
Avatar's body, he falls to the ground, his tactile TK field shutting down.
With a splash, the boy hits the water around the island and continues
downward. A moment later, another flash, this time from under the water
flares up as the boy hits a gasline, likely feeding the Habitat, and it
explodes. The Horseman War has fallen.

Batman takes a surprisingly nimble few sidesteps, darting to close the
distance with Mortis. He speaks insistently into his com as he moves,
"Azrael, Catwoman, Huntress - flank Famine. The orb." He ducks the sweep
of the blade of mortality, grimaces, then jams his right hand up with a
taloned finger, targeting the choker. Paralytic toxin drips from the tips
of the gloved hand as he tries to simultaneously yank the jewlery free and
further disable the personification of Death itself.

Azrael whips around to halt the advance of the first row of the undead
army from the depths. He moves with deadly accuity, cutting out with his
twin arm blades, leaving trailing arcs of gore and fire in their wake. He
hears the Bat's command and makes a face, the urge to do battle
distracting him for the moment. He backs away gradually, looking to
Catwoman and Huntress' position.

Catwoman feels completely useless. She mutters to herself, "Right. Flank
her. Wonderful plan, Batman. What then?" She runs along on the ground,
wonder just what to do once she catches up, if she ever does. If she had
her guns, at least she could take potshots.

Green Arrow watches as the arrow misses and War falls.... into the bay.
"Damnit.." he mutters. He figured the kid could survive a fall, but even
Kryptonian's need to breathe last time he checked... well, Ollie feels bad
enough having Joker's death on his consience. Having an innocent,
possessed kid isn't an option. Grabbing an already prepeared rope-line,
Ollie swings down the side of the warehouse building.... his eyes focusing
on where the Boy of Steel landed.

That arrow was timed quite well as it kept Hawkgirl's head from being
removed entirely by the blow. Instead, she gets a glancing strike that is
enough to snap her head to the side and send her spirally toward the
ground. Her concentration is gone. There is no way for her to control her
wings. The fall is only about fifteen feet but it hurts when she impacts
bodily with the rooftop. War is lost to her for now. She's unaware of his
fate as she tries to bring herself to a position at least on hands and
knees, shaking her head groggily. Everything hurts but nothing seems
broke. She's going to be a mass of bruises tomorrow. She sticks with that
thinking as she waits for her body to start working again, sucking in
gasps of air. Positive thought, that. Darkness is inching into her line of
sight, threatening to take her into the bliss of unconsciousness but she
fights it.

"On it," Huntress says into her own comm unit even as her footsteps are
already bringing her to bare on the position of the Horsemen, her course
is diverted only slightly to move in on Famine. But at the Catwoman's
words, she smirks slightly to herself and takes the liberty to answer. "I
would gather take the orb and make sure she doesn't cause more damage in
the process." And the Huntress comes up short in a defensive position,
looking around for a moment before raising her right arm and taking aim, a
crossbolt aimed at taking away the Horseman's scaled weapon of choice.

When Death's vision clears, she sees a dirty naked bum named Mitch with a
greasy mullet sitting in front of her. Sure he's wearing a trenchcoat and
hat, but he's also straddling a horse. The first thing that runs through
his mind when he dies and becomes visible is, "F*CK!" The second thing he
says, "Might as well get some..." And then he acts on instinct, planting
an ill-smelling/tasting kiss right on her open mouth. And, you can't be
sure at this angle, but he might've tried to cop a feel. This time he'll
die happy. And there's a nice distraction for you, Bats. Mitch drops dead
and falls off the horse onto the pavement with a dull smack.

The dark figure is visibly shaken when War goes down. "NO!.... this can't
be..." The clouds send down waves of rain and lightning. "The one is not
here... it has weakened me... the other down... must maintain control,
they still hold my charms." He mutters to himself.

There is a loud clattering sound as Famine's balances are slung out of her
hand and cast to the ground by Huntress' crossbow. Her arm is very nearly
wrenched out of skeletal socket as she casts it aside, sparing a turn of
er head and a high-pitched *SKREEEEEE* of super-sonic waves intended at
the general vicinity the shotc came from. Two seconds later, she is still
galloping, and now wheeling upon her mater and brethren in the heart of
battle--dismayed to see them downed.

Famine says "Master, which one shall I kill first?!"

Death is still blinking from the brilliant flash when Mitch kisses her -
cause enough right there for a century of blinks. And, yes, of course he
dies again; it is a matter of a split-second for his life's energy to be
taken. The white-haired woman remains expressionless, save perhaps for the
faint look of puzzlement which crosses her features... distraction, yes,
but distraction enough? She catches the Dark Knight's approach, the swipe
of her scythe ill-timed for catching him. Her free hand is grabbing at his
wrist even as he grabs for the choker. Her alien eyes catch the reflection
of the lightning storm. A touch that kills. A gaze that kills. She focuses
both of these on the Batman... and stops. Beneath her, the horse is still.
Behind her, the undead army wails. Staring straight into the cowled eyes
of her attacker, Death's shoulders shudder. Something rises within her.
Something, perhaps, that was once called Dolphin. The muscles of the woman
in white tense. Then, in the midst of the chaos... very deliberately....
Death lets go of Batman's wrist. And holds herself, for just a moment...
perfectly still.

A gasp is torn from Famine's throat as she turns instinctively, frozen.

Batman looks into Death's eyes with the cold gaze of a man ready to meet
it head on. He suddenly freezes as he realizes that, for the first time in
his life, he is face to face with nothingness. His fingers tense, ready to
choke the form before him, to crush its life out and end it. To kill
death. Suddenly, Jean-Paul's voice crackles in his com "Batman! Don't!"

With a heave, the Dark Knight rips the choker free from Dolphin's throat,
emitting a short grunt of effort. He looks at it blankly for a moment.

Azrael turns for an ungaurded moment to look in the direction of the Caped
Crusader and Mortis face to face. After shouting his warning, he turns to
look in Famine's direction...

Sprinting quickly from the nearby warehouse, the Emerald Archer sprints to
where he sees the fallen War, floating face down in the water. A moment
later, Ollie has dragged the boy onto the sand... and notes that while the
sword now seems lost, Superboy still seems to be radiating... well, he's
never known anything about magic, but something about that kid is still
giving Ollie the major willies. As he checks the boy's vital signs, he
also searches for something.... anything like the choker the two female
horseman were wearing.

Hawkgirl is able to get her breathing back under control. She forces
herself to her feet and staggers to the edge of the roof in order to
assess the situation once more. War is gone? Where could he have gone to?
What exactly happened up there? Looking to the ground, she sees the
ongoing conflict with other heroes and the remaining two Horsemen. Tensing
a bit, her wings spread which makes her wince in pain as she apparently
cut the back of her shoulder when impacting with the rooftop. A few test
sweeps of the wings then she decides it will have to do. She leaps into
the air, looking to find an opportunity to assist without getting in the
way this time.

The Huntress clutches her ears almost in instant that the wail is emitted,
but that hardly helps as she is practically brought to her knees and
through her fingers she feels a slight, wet trickle. That is definitely
not a good thing. But thankfully, it passes as the Famine's attention
passes from her. She blinks a moment and sees that the woman, her own
teammate, seems to have come to a dead stop. Immediately, the Vigilante
makes a mad dash to quickly close the distance between them, the look on
her face is one of pure and absolute determination as she leaps into the
air to try and get the right height as her target sits atop her horse, a
gloved hand reaching out for the orb cluthced at the woman's chest.

Mitch rises slowly to his feet, rubbing his head, and making no real
effort to pull his trenchcoat closed, as if he doesn't notice that he's
naked for all the world to see. He does however adjust his hat, surveying
the scene and trying to regain his bearings. The chick he just kissed
seems to be in a trance, with some zorro guy. Some other chick in a cape
is jumping at the other chick on a horse. Odd though it may be in the
situation, Mitch gives more than a little thought to what he could loot
out of some nearby shops. He still hasn't entirely regrouped from
resurrection.

A keen moan wells up within Famine's throat, then soars to the wail of a
Banshee as blood-tinted tears streak down her cheeks. She rears her horse
and focuses on Azrael--the sound an unearthly roar of anguish for her
fallen. It slams into him like a tidal wave of blood, each wave of sound
punishing. She will kill more, Famine vows silently. All for Death. After
five seconds, she suddenly brings her pitch up: high above human range,
the intense and swift vibrations concentrating on Azrael's helm.

It is cut short as Famine is jerked back from her horse, falling to the
ground in a tangle of limbs--her bright blue eyes gazing into cowled ones.
"You know NOT what you do---" The chain stretches, threatening to snap off
at the merest jerk.

The body that the Green Arrow thought he had found ends up being nothing
but an illusion, vanishing away. Is the boy really dead? No one knows. The
man in black appears agrivated, and ever weaker. He orders Famine to
continue fighting, "Kill them all!" But then he pauses and stares as the
chain is snaps off of her easily. His control is gone "They have proved
themselves powerful... now is not the time. But my work is still done." He
grins, "They will not soon recover." The being flickers... then fades
away.

Batman turns in time to ready a razor-edged batarang. He throws it about
the same time Huntress pulls the chain holding the orb taut. "Azrael,
get...!"

Jean-Paul Valley doesn't see it coming. His hooded head snaps back with
the force of the sonic attack, and he falls back, staggering as if reeling
from a punch. Then, his legs begin to go, his sight fades, and he realizes
his destiny. Swinging one last slash with his blade, he lands in a
crumpled heap on the pavement. A pool of blood begins to form around him.

How much effort for that single moment of frozen stillness? How many hours
of silent screaming inside her own mind? Even then, she can offer no
encouragement; it is all she can do to reign herself in, to prevent the
thing within her from killing the man she faces. Death - or Dolphin -
waits.

As the choker is jerked from her throat, thick silver band coming free in
the Dark Knight's hand, there is a burst of black. Waves of darkness reach
from the jewel back to the woman it was ripped from -- seeking to keep its
violent hold. Death contorts, throwing her head back. And then... the
merwoman, who has not spoken, who seldom utters a sound... screams. It is
a thin, ragged sound. It has a jagged razor edge to it, as though it
slices her from within. If there is any smile to cross her lips as the
talisman is torn away, it is lost in the rictus grin of her pain.

Nearly having reached the battle, the zombies stagger and fall lifeless to
the ground. The demon things fade. Even the horse vanishes, as Dolphin
falls. Death, it would seem, is done.

Green Arrow blinks a bit as the body of War fades away. "Goddamit!" he
mutters as he turns to watch the battle... and see if there is any good he
can do there.... and that is when he sees it... he sees Huntress pouncing
Dinah and pulling back on the choker. His eagle eyes can tell, even from
here, that the band is close to breaking... and that's when the idea hits
him. "Well, I brought all this obselete crap up here... may as well use
it..." he says to himself as he pulls out a handcuff arrow, still slightly
dusty... and takes aim so that the cuff will (hopefully) close around the
band and then keep on flying and take the band with it...

Huntress holds fast, refusing to let go of either her targeted gem or of
Famine herself. Her eyes narrow, dark brown meeting the bright blue. There
is no mercy held within them, but there is something else that is quite
clear there. A hope. And a compassion. "Oh, yes...I do." And with that,
she does snap the chain easily enough, her fist tightening around it with
an almost crushing force and she attempts to roll away and out of the
tangle, not wanting to allow the woman a chance to scramble it back under
any circumstances.

Whither Mitch Shelley? Whither this lonely naked drifter? Was he a hero
this day? In days previous? Has he earned for himself, by his actions, a
place amongst this august pantheon of heroes? Not really. And so he pulls
his coat together to hide the merchandise, clumsily tying the trenchcoat
belt to hold it closed. Damn its cold in December with no shoes. But does
he lift Nikes from a broken store window? No. Perhaps he is a hero after
all, of a kind. No, probably still isn't. And thus, as he wanders off into
the night, to parts unknown, what can be asked but whither Mitch Shelley?
Whither the Resurrection Man? And do we really care?

Famine's head snaps back like whiplash as Jean-Paul's final cut was the
unkindest of them all. In his final act, he severed Famine's talisman, and
the hold over the hero host. Huntress took the other half. Both worked to
break that demonic hold. Unfortunately too, her life. She slowly lowers
her head--ashen cheeks filling in and ebony lips turning a flushed petal
pink. Wide blue eyes round innocently as Dinah Laurel Lance, The Black
Canary II, looks down at her firend. The Huntress. "Oh god," she whispers
"Helena. I'm...so..sorr--" she can't get the rest out. The brightness, the
laughter, the /spirit/ in those blue eyes fades then goes out altogether
as she falls to one side, her body lifeless. Whether Arrow made his shot
is neither here nor there: Famine has been vanquished. For the record he
did. But it is far too little too late, and now the fallen Canary appears
all the more macabre.

Batman looks with an unreadable expression at Azrael's body, his gloved
hands loose at his sides, his shoulders starting to slump. He moves with
sluggish feet to kneel by the young man and touch two fingers to his
throat. He peers over his shoulder at the others, the former Horsemen,
then back at the choker in his right hand's grip.

Green Arrow sighs as he sees his shot go past, too little, too late. He
runs up to join the group... and gets there just as Dinah falls. "Oh, God
no..." he screams as he reaches her side with a speed to make Wally West
envious, where he falls to his knees, looks at her.... and then collapses
on top of her...

Hawkgirl shifts her wings in order to lower herself to the ground slowly,
a fair distance from the other heroes and fallen Horsemen. Her weapon
hangs loosely from her left hand. Her right arm is folded over her midriff
as she looks at the various bodies. There is a painful sting which warns
of the tears before they start the slip free. She reaches up a hand to
brush at the lower side of her mask before they slip down her cheeks
completely. Turning away, she decides that perhaps this is not the best
time for introductions. A sweep of the wings, a jump skywards and she
slowly rises into the air to make her departure, leaving the heroes to
grief the loss off their friends.

Batman exhales. "Its...over," he pronounces.

Green Arrow doesn't respond, his face burried against the body of the
woman he loves...tears welling up in his eyes.

Black Canary's body is pale, cole, and rigid, her eyes staring sightlessly
up towards the stars.

Batman dully removes a cannister from his belt, opening the top, then
dropping the choker into it. He stands silent vigil over his fallen
prodigee, head bowed.

A last crack of lightning and thunder. The rain falls on the Dark Knight's
armored shell with a faint pattering. "We've got to...see to the fallen.
Tend to our wounds," he says in a flat tone. He slowly raises his head to
the darkened sky. "Salvage what we can."