Enter: Oracle

[newoutsiders]

Trouble at the docks again. Steph just phoned in. So much for Damian "settling things there once and for all." There was apparently an explosion. She can handle it, you tell yourself. You've got a lot more pressing things to worry about.

You take another sip of coffee as you trace some shelled bank accounts to Bialya. If you're right, there's a secret European war being funded by some major US corporations, and no one but 12 people on Earth even knows it's happening. You just need a little more-

You doze off for a quarter of a second before perking up. You've been awake for 50 hours now, and you haven't moved an inch. Since the Justice League took off and you took charge, things have been busier than they've ever been. But you can't stop. Everyone is counting on you.

Your main monitor blinks with the notification of an incoming video call. It's the League Watchtower.

Comments

[jlf_oracle]

Babs takes a minute to comb her fingers through her hair and brush the crumbs off her shirt. She's the face of the League right now, so she has to at least try to look the part.

[not_easy_being_green]

Babs is getting a call from Misfit's phone.

[jlf_oracle]

Time keeps ticking by, and Babs alternates between keeping and eye on the tanker clean-up and trying to get an idea of what Steph's up to. She should've checked in by now but she hasn't. Cameras along her patrol route haven't picked up anything except a flash of color as her cape drops into frame.

Charlie hasn't called either, but Babs won't let herself worry. She's with Green Arrow; he won't let anything bad happen.

[stephbrown]

Steph taps her foot nervously as she dials Oracle. There's a lot she needs to report on.

[newoutsiders]

You watch through Savant's sunglasses as he sidles his way into Pearl's- the seedy bar on Crime Alley which houses the posh Meta-Brawl arena below.

He exchanges words with the bartender, and is led down a secret staircase, where the wealthiest of Gotham's lowlives- in fact, lowlives from all over the East Coast- are hobnobbing and enjoying the show. A crocodile skinned boy in boxer trunks with razor claws, no older than seventeen, is sparring below with what looks like a full-grown grizzly bear with the head of a man.

Not too much time passes until Savant is greeted by Roulette.

"Brian, darling! How wonderful to see you tonight. I was afraid you wouldn't show."

"My sincerest apologies, my dear," he says suavely, taking and kissing her opera-gloved hand. "I was waylaid by professional obligations, as I hope you can understand. But far be it from me to miss a Meta-Brawl. I crave your forgiveness."

"Forgiven," she says, a little giddy. "You know I can't stay mad at you. I feel like we've known each other for years now."

"Veronica, I assure you," Savant replies, "the feeling is mutual."

The lights go out before Roulette can administer a riposte. Then, everything goes red, and a siren fills the room.

"Security has been compromised," a pre-recorded Roulette intones over a PA system. "Please proceed to assigned emergency exits in an orderly fashion. Repeat: security has been compromised..."

Well, this is interesting.

Savant pushes his glasses to the bridge of his nose, and up again- his signal to request orders, or an explanation.

[newoutsiders]

You're feeling pretty refreshed, even when woken as usual by a distress call. It's coming from... John Stewart?

"Oracle," John calls in, "We've got some Thanagarian refugees here in Detroit, doing the Zod routine. But they've got these 60 foot tall gorilla monsters backing them up. Canary and I have our hands full here- is anyone from the League free?"

[stephbrown]

After dropping Connor off, Steph takes a deep breath and calls Oracle. There's a lot they need to catch up on.

[newoutsiders]

A call comes in from Savant.

"Oracle, you're going to want to hear this: Roulette's throwing one of her famous make-up parties tonight, after the last one got crashed. Her not-so-secret headliner: Lady Shiva. I assume you'll want eyes and ears?"