metalogs | APRIL CONFLUENCE

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APRIL CONFLUENCE

It comes to the precogs in a flash: On APRIL 26th, a confluence will occur in Little Love. Any available metahumans are requested to take a trip to the tiny town and stand guard.

Just as it has the previous four times, an OMINOUS STORM rolls in. Thunder booms and a bolt of lightning crashes into the field below.... but nobody falls from the sky. In fact, nothing weird at all seems to happen. The storm runs its course and in the end, the night is uneventful. The metas standing guard are left wet, cold, and frustrated.

THE ALLIANCE and THE SOCIETY do a thorough sweep but seem to decide everything is fine. Confluences appear to be winding down once again and all breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

Yet unknown to them, the new arrivals have come through… but this time rather than crashing into the ground, the lightning strike has EMBEDDED THEM deep, deep beneath the ground.

The following morning, the residents of Little Love are stunned to find their FRESHLY PLANTED POTATO SEED has reached full maturity overnight. Curious and wary, one brave farmer wades into the towering stalks to investigate the potential cause. She fails to come back out.

A little later into the week, one disappearance has become dozens. The Alliance receives a call stating that SOMETHING has been calling to the townspeople in the crop field. Anyone who sets foot in it doesn’t seem to be coming back out, and the town is small enough as it is already.

Once again, you’re asked to go INVESTIGATE.

HARVEST —

Nothing seems off about the fields at first. But a thermal scan reveals just where the missing farmers have gone - they’re IN THE GROUND. Alive, but appearing to be in a deep state of slumber.

And you, new arrival, have been PLANTED right beside them. You may remember a fleeting glimpse of the world rushing by, but that now feels like a bad dream. You’re having a much nicer one down here, surrounded by all your brothers and sisters. You can HEAR THEIR VOICES in the back of your mind, compelling you to stay here with them forever. The earth around you is like a warm embrace. Why would you ever want to leave it? Your body will feed it and give your brethren strength.

Some of you may snap awake at that particular thought. You begin to desperately CLAWING YOUR WAY UP. Your hand breaks the surface and someone screams at the zombie, but someone else is there to quickly grasp your hand and yank you up and out. There are THIN WHITE ROOTS all over you - easily torn off, but unsettling all the same.

PRUNING THE GARDEN

Your captors do not appreciate their garden being invaded. And for every person that’s pulled out of the ground, A MASSIVE POTATO the size of a large dog is disturbed and springs free. They don't appreciate being woken up.

These YOUNG SPROUTS are full of piss and vinegar, ready to fight anyone who comes too close to their nesting grounds. Others are eager to return to the soil, and keen on adding to the collective by taking you with them.

Meanwhile, the remnants of last fall’s harvest appear to have adopted a persona not unlike that of a SENIOR DOG. They want to be left alone and will lash out at any of these whippersnappers intruding on their space. You may find an unlikely ally in a particularly CRANKY SPUD. If you're patient, kind, and maybe a little off-kilter (who are we to judge), you can try to ADOPT one of the SENIOR POTATO MONSTERS. Good luck?

ALIEN CAVERN —

For those of you unfortunate enough to be pulled into the earth, you’re in luck - the potatoes seem to be overestimating how much room they have to work with. The next thing you know you’re falling through the CEILING OF A CAVERN, splashing into a shallow glowing river.

There’s NO WAY OUT, and even if you're able to fly, the hole above you appears to have sealed itself up.

Your mouth is full of dirt. Perhaps you feel compelled to DRINK THE WATER to clear it, or perhaps you swallowed a mouthful as you hit the ground. Regardless, swallow any of the glowing water you’ll BEGIN TO GLOW as well. You’ll also become keenly attuned to the nature in this cavern. You’re probably a little stoned, but your senses tell you all of the organic material appears to possess a RUDIMENTARY SAPIENCE.

Follow the stream to its source and you’ll find an impressive piece of ALIEN TECHNOLOGY. It’s difficult to discern exactly what it does, but as its surrounding area is surrounded by exotic looking plants you guess it may be some sort of TERRAFORMING MACHINE. It looks like the bolt of lightning caused it to go haywire and its pushing energy out into the fields, trying to terraform the planet into whatever its now warped parameters tell it to. A VISCOUS BLUE LIQUID is leaking from the tank and into the water supply. And you may feel regrets about drinking that.

Bring it offline. Once the machine has shut down, the POTATO-BEASTS abruptly crash through the ceiling and burrow through the ground underneath your feet. Your rescuers look down at you through these massive holes and as the sunlight strikes your skin, FLOWERS begin to bloom all over your body.

Someone makes a reluctant call to HQ and tells them to prep the medical team.

AFTERMATH —

RETURN TO HQ

After the potato beasts are taken care of (or adopted?) and the chaos from the strange underground Confluence abates, the guild places a call back to headquarters to bring everyone back with a teleportation spell. The spell reaches out for whatever metahumans it can find in the area and pulls.

All the metahumans who were involved in the Confluence — new arrivals and old — to a white training space that has already transformed into a luxurious waiting room. Everyone present receives a cellphone.

Atomight isn't there in the flesh this time, but there is a broadcast over the network to those stuck at HQ:

Thank you for your help out there. We would like to issue an apology for the way you arrived here. To those of you grappling with your new abilities, please rest assured that this room will give you a much needed reprieve. We have staff on site who can work with you to gain control of you new abilities, and nullifiers if you find it's still too much.

You are the fourth set of newly powered individuals this confluence has brought. To those of you who have been flung far from home, we'll put you in connection with the others. Many of them are here today and can advise you of what your new reality is.

We of the Guardian Alliance are committed to doing everything we can to get you home, and to give you some time to get your feet under you. And as this may be your home for a while longer, I wish to formally extend an invitation to those of you who wish to use your powers to defend the innocent to join us.

Once everyone gathered has been looked over and attended to they're directed to:

THE DIADEM

As always, there is space aplenty for new arrivals in the DIADEM HOTEL. (Though there's a lot of you now, so you'll definitely be matched with a ROOMMATE, possibly at random.)

The Diadem Hotel is a luxury hotel usually reserved for the obscenely wealthy. Its rooms are enormous, the beds quite literally enchanted to offer the perfect night's sleep, and the food would usually cost your life savings just to sample. But don't worry! Everything is COMPLIMENTARY, and everyone gets an Alliance credit card to spend on entertainment, clothing, and whatever other necessities they might need. The cards appear to have an obscenely high limit and there doesn't seem to be an expectation for you to pay it back.

You might get approached by GUILD REPRESENTATIVES and invited to join. Depending on your character's actions during the Confluence crisis, they might get approached by one guild and not the other. Recruiters are charming and personable, talking up the perks of being in the Guilds (see more on our FAQ and GUILDS pages). They won't be harassing anyone, but a "no, thank you" might be returned with a "think it over" and offer of a calling card. Be careful, though. You only have TWO MONTHS to join a guild and secure guild housing. If you don't join one or the other, you'll be on your own. Oh well. Live it up while you can, right?

IN SUMMARY...

NEW ARRIVALS arrive in LITTLE LOVE during a storm. At first, the Confluence escapes notice, as these arrivals arrive UNDER THE GROUND.

At first, sleeping arrivals may feel compelled to STAY underground with their newfound root brethren. Eventually, they realise the error of that thinking and CRAWL OUT OF THE GROUND like freaky plant zombies, covered in roots. "Get this stuff off of me!"

MUTANT POTATO-BEASTS also crawl out of the ground with arrivals! You may be able to make an UNLIKELY ALLIANCE with one of these creatures and even take it home with you!

Those PULLED INTO THE EARTH can explore an ALIEN CAVERN completely with glowing, questionable water. Arrivals need to shut down an ALIEN TERRAFORMING MACHINE before being rescued by farmers and potato-beasts. Delicious(?).

As always, new arrivals will later be transported either to GUILD HQ or the DIADEM HOTEL. Enjoy your new guild perks for the next two months! Decide to join a guild (or not)! Pluck that last stray potato root off yourself and meet your fellow ~~potatoes~~ arrivals.

Ask any mod questions HERE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Was this time travel? Alternate universes? Was that what that flash was about? This Robin is talking to him like they work together and that he also works with others.

"Afraid not," Jason replies shortly. "My helmet's fine but I got nothing."

He's not lying. As far as he can tell his helmet wasn't really damaged during the burial and he can't contact anyone. It's just that he a lone vigilante, not someone who works with others like this kid is thinking.

Aside from the plain chestpiece and the ‘are you alone’ line of questioning - neither of which are unreasonable - there’s not all that much to be sceptical of. So Red Hood’s giving a bit of static. It’s Jason. He does that. All-in-all, this is about as well as they could be expected to handle this.

“So it’s being jammed, or for some reason it can’t connect to the satellite. Which could be myriad things, and we’ve got nothing to go on.” No point in trying to figure out why they can’t connect without the means to correct it.

Tim looks over towards the lighter side of the sky, finds the center which is close enough to east, and starts walking. “We should go before the death potato comes back.”

Jason follows and kicks aside a stray sprout that tries to charge at him. As much as he hates that he's probably talking to his replacement, there isn't much use sticking around in a field he has no idea how he wound up in in the first place.

"You got any idea how we wound up taking dirt naps in the first place?"

“Corroborated ideas? No.” And he sounds genuinely cranky about it, because Tim loves being thrown into shit blind and fully unprepared.

Almost fully unprepared. At least they’re suited up, so that’s encouraging. It could be worse. He could be on a nearly deserted island drawing a domino mask on with mud. You know. Again. “I’ve got plenty of wild speculation, though. Do you want to hear the Swamp Thing idea, the Jonathan-Swift-inspired alternate universe where the potato people are the dominant life form, or do you want to go first with the theories?”

Edited 2022-05-02 02:43 (UTC)

Jeez, this kid's brain doesn't stop. He's smart. Jason will give him that much. He's also getting the sense he's another person that would have dozens of contingency plans.

"Giving me a modest proposal, huh?" Jason says dryly. "Go ahead with your theories then."

“Swamp Thing would be more the modest proposal. The idea they might be the dominant life form and we’re the outliers- that’s more Gulliver’s Travels.”

Tim’s finding his stride, both literally and metaphorically. So much that when the next small fry potato charges, he runs up and kicks it like a soccer goalie. Gets a pretty good distance, too. That’d be at least midfield. No word on the potato’s condition.

“So, if it were Swamp Thing, he’s clearly going to trick Brazilian farmers into planting these. Kinda hard to deforest the Amazon when you’re overrun by spuds,” he’s joking but. Does it really sound that implausible? “Gulliver’s Travels is self explanatory. Want me to formally introduce you to the Lillispudians, or do you want to wait until they’ve gotten us thrashed to the ground?”

Jason makes a short laugh. He knows this is a strange situation on so many levels, least of all where they are and how they got here. He's still furious that it looks like Bruce replaced him with yet another dark-haired boy to be Robin. On the other hand, the kid himself isn't bad so far. Then again, Jason's also well aware that the kid's assuming they know each other.

"Don't need a third dirt nap, least of all from a swarm of people the size of my index finger."

Jason then backhands hard against a potato sprout that tried to pounce on him.

Tim grins at the dark humour. You have to laugh about it, to a certain extent, or explode from the stress of keeping it all packed away like nothing ever happened. And - sure, laughing about it doesn't help him deal with any of it properly, but it's enough to go on for tonight. For most nights. "And I'd like to avoid número dos. Dos punto cinco? I'm really not sure if it counts if people only think you're dead. It's a weird thing to ask for partial credit for."

Though his helmet is hiding his bewildered expression, Jason can't help but pause at Robin's comment as he looks at him. He faked his own death at some point? How old is he and what the hell happened for him to have to already pull that stunt?

"Yeah, no. It's either dead or not dead," Jason then says. "Not mostly dead like in Princess Bride."

He's trying to keep his tone even but he also has a feeling he might have to give up the charade soon.

Oh, he didn’t fake his own death. Technically, that was Mr. Oz. If he hadn’t teleported Tim out of the universe at just the right moment, Tim would’ve been worm food.

“Mostly dead?” Spluttering in near indignation. He’d returned to Gotham in bad shape, and had managed to stumble into a hospital before he fell into cardiac arrest. “They used a defibrillator, and I can’t even get credit for mostly dead.”

Tim holds up a finger. An index finger, he’s not Jason Todd. The irritation is gone. “Although now that that’s out of my system, I don’t really want credit.”

Edited 2022-05-03 13:31 (UTC)

Jason snorts. He's aware that it's probably messed up that they're doing almost literal gallows humor. After so many years alone and with no interest in making friends, Jason isn't used to this kind of banter. As grim as their current topic is, it feels almost... nice? To talk to someone in a more casual way, even if it's still under false pretenses and he's probably talking to his Robin replacement. He really needs to go chew out Bruce.

"Yeah, no. This is one of those contests where there are no winners," Jason says dryly.

Jason then stops to shake off a potato sprout trying to gnaw on his combat boots before giving it a satisfying kick. The vegetable launches across the field several yards like it's a football.

Edited 2022-05-03 14:25 (UTC)

“Let’s go with there’s not any losers. It makes it sound better.” Deliberate emphasis because they both know it sucks. Nothing to say to make it better.

Tim whistles at the kick. He would golf clap, but he’d have to put away his bo. Between the continuing waves of potatoes and the earlier weird vibes, he’s not inclined to do it. “Nice one. In all seriousness, who has potato goons? They’re terrible. It’s like farmer whack-a-mole. They’re too small for Ivy’s pets.”

"Maybe Condiment King and Ivy collaborated and he finally added more to his arsenal. Ketchup and fries go together," Jason replies, mostly joking.

Given the bizarre and gimmicky rogues' gallery Gotham has, Jason doesn't think it's too far of a stretch.

As he punts away another spud and watches it sailing away across the field, Jason frowns. Just before his panic and the scramble to get out of the ground, there was a strange feeling he had. What was that about?

"Hey, did it feel like you had company when you were buried?"

“Dibs on Ivy.” Someone has to square off with each villain in a team up, and it isn’t his turn to fight Condiment King. Tim’s not sure whose turn it is, but it’s not his.

He hesitates, for a second, because it will sound crazy. “Vague sense of belonging, like someone’s whispering in your brain that it’s nice here and you belong?”

Jason stops walking and nods at Robin. It's good to know it wasn't just him then.

"Like we were getting reasons to just stay in the ground."

He lightly kicks at the ground. The soil all around them was still loose. How big is this crop field?

"What are the chances we weren't the only ones?"

“Like something with a telepathic brain needed us to stay in the ground.”

He keeps pace along Jason’s line of thought. The field is large, but that’s the most Tim can tell even with the assistance of the lenses in his mask. It’s too dark, too flat, and there’s too little above ground to gauge distance. “Most farms are in the tens or hundreds of acres. Average city block is about 5 acres, if you count the alley. I’d say it’s at least a 10 block walk before we clear the field., and the ground’s been worked. Tilled. There could be thousands of people buried here. You’d never know. The dirt will mess with heat sensors - we need ground-penetrating radar. Or a satellite connection.”

"Not much use for my helmet's infrared then," Jason says.

The idea that there could be others buried underneath their feet felt unsettling. Jason then punts another potato hard across the field.

"We could go digging at the spots the taters are coming out of."

Jason would be more affected by the experience. Tim hardly enjoyed it, but he wants to approach this logically without digging aimlessly in a field filled with veggies that bite back.

“We could try the next hole, but I still think it’s a better use of time to get the gear that we need for the search before we go digging up half of Kansas and don’t even find Jimmy Hoffa.” The voices wanted him to feed them, or enrich the soil. Even if they find something in one of the holes, if there was a potato in the hole… it’s not encouraging. “Besides, if it’s Ivy and Condiment King, we could be the only ones here. If it’s Mad Hatter, then one of us is alone with a henchman, but I don’t remember potatoes in Carroll so I think we’re safe.”

"Tea and tiny cakes are what goes with the Wonderland theme," Jason replies as he lightly kicks the soil again.

Part of him wants to just hurry up and dig in case there are other people underground but he can't argue against the logic this Robin is presenting. They barely know where to start much less have the right digging tools.

"So what? We just stroll right into the nearest city and hope for the best?"

It's not much of a plan but they didn't have a lot of options either at the moment.

"Oysters, if you're counting Through the Looking Glass." The oysters always disturbed Tim, even in the Disney version. "Might not be the sort of comparison you want to think too hard about, considering we're the curious oysters."

He thinks about the question, which seems be just verbal rock-kicking to go with the actual dirt-kicking. "In essence, but I don't think we'll have to go as far as a city. How often do you find a farm within a half hour of the outskirts of the city? We're out past the 'burbs. We just need to get a steady signal, and we get someone to give us a lift. We'll come back in the plane."

Jason catches a potato that attempted to leap at him.

"Fair enough," he says. It was as good of a plan any.

He then throws the potato down on the ground and resumes walking.

"You think Nightwing is around here too?" he asks.

It's kind of a risky question to ask. He has no idea what's what happened in this Robin's timeline. It might give away where Jason's really from. But Jason also wants to know what other "family" members should he expect. He's already angry at there being a third Robin so might as well find out who else is around.

There's a reason why he hasn't put away his bo yet, and it's not just the potatoes. The question shifts Tim's train of thought back onto the earlier line, of why Red Hood was so quick to establish where Batman was. Yes, Batman and Nightwing are handy to have around in situations like this, but Tim doesn't ask someone where everyone else if his patrol melds into someone else's. If they're not here, then they're not here.

Tim frowns. "I think the odds of everyone we knows being somewhere in this field are slim, but greater than zero. If you're a supervillain with a burning desire to grow your own crop of Robins, then we might not be the only ones who got nabbed. But who's good enough to get more than two of us? The plan's the same: find a signal and get gear. If Nightwing or anyone else are here, we're not going to find them randomly digging in the dark. He's probably dug himself out already."

Well, that establishes that Nightwing's still around from where this Robin's from at least.

"Yeah, he probably backflipped out of the hole," Jason says dryly.

He wonders if Robin has his suspicions about him yet. The Red Hood Robin knows has to have some differences from him. There's no way he would rejoin his family and stay the same as he is now. Or maybe it was a case of alternate universes and it didn't matter anyway.

“Please, he got one finger free and rolled upwards into a perfectly balanced handstand. He grappled onto a flock of phoenixes and trapezed away.” Even at the height of his sarcasm, there’s nothing mocking in Tim’s tone. He is genuinely fond of his extra brother.

“He might not be here if he’s still in Blüdhaven. What about you? Where did you go after - what would you call that? Afternoon brunch? Did you head back to Gotham?” He doesn’t add ‘too’ in the question.

Of course this Robin would like the Golden Boy. Everyone does. Jason doesn't bother to hide that he's rolling his eyes before replying.

"Yeah. Had things to take care of and people to see."

He knows his answer is vague but not much he can do about it for now. It's not like they would go into detail about each other's cases unless they had to work together. Would they?

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