Chapter 1: Darkness Rises
Authors Note: This is a somewhat short story about how Amanda Waller handles beings of demonic proportions that she doesn't rely on the Justice League for and is too rough for the Suicide Squad. This is a bit of a crossover with JLA and Darkness stories. I'll leave a list down below, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Justice League or Darkness.
Oswald Cobblepot, or Penguin as he has been known for, has been suffering a major hit from Black Mask and his mob recently. He was sitting at his desk in his night club looking over all the guns he lost, but all he saw was how much money he was missing out on. He knew that once Mask sold those guns on the street, Penguin's buyers wouldn't want anything to do with him.
"This is a load of shit!" He said as he threw his papers across the desk. He held his cigarette holder up to his lip and took a long drag before blowing a thick cloud of smoke in his accountants face.
The scrawny man let out a small cough as he waved the smoke out of his face. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to give him his boss's racket money and walk out, but he also knew that if he didn't give his boss a solution to his problem he would most likely be found in the dumpster the next day.
"M-Mr. Cobblepot, if I may?" He boss narrowed his eye underneath his eyeglass as he glared at his associate. "Earlier in our casino, a man approached me and asked for any work that you may have for him. He gave me this phone if you were interested."
"What kind of work?" He asked in his grouchy voice as he snatched the phone out of his hand. It was an old burner phone that was cracked and scratched to hell, but it still worked.
"He said that he could solve any problem that you may have." He said. "I think he knows that you are in trouble with, Black Mask."
"And how do you know that he won't just kill me!" Cobblepot snapped as he shot up from his chair and grabbed his umbrella. The accountant was scared stiff when the tip of his umbrella was held against his throat.
"He said t-that he knew where your guns were and that he could get them back for you." He stammered. This sparked Cobblepot's interest. He looked down at the phone and after a minute of hesitation he pressed down on the call button and held the phone up against his ear.
"Hello?" A casual voice slurred.
"I 'eard that you knew where my guns were and you could get them back." Cobblepot demanded.
His door burst open and a man dressed in a leather coat and black cargo pants walked in. His dark hair was long and messy the same as his facial hair. Cobblepot could tell that this man was drunk and a mistake.
"Get 'em out of here." Cobblepot threw his phone at his head, but the man grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket.
"I can get you your guns back." He said as he regained his composure.
"Where are they?"
"Nuh-uh," The man said playfully as he shook his finger. "I want to be the one to get them for you and I want a finder's fee."
"What, why?" Cobblepot asked. He didn't know what this guy's angle was. For all he knew this guy was a lunatic who escaped from Arkham.
"Three reasons, ahem." He cleared his throat before holding up three fingers. "One I work for my money, two I want money for finding them and more money for the work and three I want to have a good time tonight."
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand for finding the guns and another fifty for killing every bastard on sight." He chuckled.
"A hundred thousand for this job?" Cobblepot pondered. "All right, besides if you die I can just send in my men and with luck you would at least kill one or two of them in the process."
"Splendid, now if you could just give me a ride to the location I can get this ball rolling."
"And may I get your name so I can chisel it on your tombstone?" Cobblepot asked.
"Jordan Craven."
(!)
Down by the docks there was a warehouse that was bustling with Black Mask's troops who were armed with military grade gear. From armored vests and guns they were ready for a gang war and with Cobblepot's guns Penguin wouldn't stand a chance.
Jordan was given a ride to the docks and he made the trip to the warehouse on foot. He approached the main doors and was stopped by the two guards standing outside. One of them cringed in disgust as he pushed Jordan away.
"Jesus you smell like shit!" He shouted.
"Huh, probably because I just shit myself." Jordan chuckled. "I'm kidding I drank a lot tonight."
"What the hell are you doing here?" The guard asked. "Private party."
"Aww, well, you see you stole my friend's guns and he has been crying like a bitch for the past few days and he would really like his guns back, so…"
The guards both aimed their guns at Jordan and the contractor raised his hands in the air.
"How do you know about the guns?" He snapped.
"I saw you jump Penguin's goons, followed you and here we are." He stated causally. "The question is if you guys are going to give me the guns or are you going to make me take them?"
The other guard raised his shotgun up to Jordan's face and cocked it. Jordan shook his head and in an instant he swiped his hand across the barrel of the gun and swiped his combat knife across his throat before throwing the knife into the center of the other guard's skull.
He quickly grabbed the shotgun and admired it in all its deadly beauty. It was a UTS-15 pump action shotgun. It was awesome. He reached down and pulled the knife from the guard's skull and wiped the blade clean on his pants before slipping it into his holster.
He ran over to the smaller door and shot the door handle off and quickly stepped in. He cocked the shotgun and stood before everyone.
"Evening." He nodded to the leader. "Guns or die, choice is yours."
The leader of the mercenaries picked up an assault rifle while the rest of the crew pulled out their rifles, shotguns and handguns.
"Asshole, we have more numbers than you, more guns than you and you only have that shotgun there." The leader chuckled.
"I also have a colt .45, a combat knife and…this." Jordan pulled out a black revolver with serpent on the handle and purple outlining the gun.
His eyes glowed white before the gun was engulfed in a dark energy and fired a bullet across the warehouse, through the crates and into the head of another guard. The lightbulbs burst and all hell broke loose.
The mercs were firing blindly into the darkness while Jordan just hid behind a crate waiting for them to run out of bullets or stop shooting. With Jordan's special talent he could see all nine of them clear as day before raising his shotgun and firing it at them, killing three of them.
When the gun ran out he switched to a different cover and pulled out his .45. It was a shiny piece with a white marble handle. He held both of his handguns and using his powers he fired his bullets all over the warehouse and struck down every guard inside, except for the leader.
The leader had on a pair of night vision goggles on and he spotted Jordan. He aimed his rifle at Jordan and fired all of his bullets at him and when he ran out, Jordan popped out from cover and fired a round from his .45 into his arm.
The leader fell down onto the ground and looked up at the contractor. His eyes widened when he saw the dark figure standing over him. He raised his revolver and pressed the barrel against his chest.
"Take comfort that with your death you give me life." Jordan pulled the trigger, finishing him off.
Jordan grabbed the shotgun he had discarded and he was about to head out when he saw a large envelope sticking out of the leader's pocket. It was fat with cash and his eyes widened in delight.
He noticed a seal on the envelope that didn't match Black Mask or Penguin's label. He shrugged and pocketed it before hopping into a nearby Lamborghini and sped off out of the warehouse where he met up with Cobblepot in his limo.
"Your guns are inside and the men are dead," Jordan said as he held out his hand. "Money, now."
Cobblepot grunted and threw a large envelope at him. Jordan grabbed it and nodded.
"It's been a pleasure, now if you will excuse me I need to be going." He said as he started up his car.
"I could use a man of your talent for a more permanent partnership." Cobblepot smirked.
"No thanks, I got my thrill for the day. Till next time you fuck up and need an associate." He smiled before hauling ass out of the docks.
Jordan went to another nightclub and he enjoyed the riches of his hard work. He drank, gambled and got laid and he next he was going to Star City where he would do it all again.
He stumbled out of the hotel he was staying in and he made his way over to his car, but there was a woman leaning against the driver side of his car. She was an African American woman around her mid-forties wearing a purple dress suit.
"Um, who the hell are you?" Jordan asked.
"A friend who could use your help." She stated in a calm demeanor. "Let's go for a ride."
Jordan pulled out his revolver and aimed it at her head.
"Let's not." He grunted. "I'll ask again, who are you?"
"Okay, I see you like it the hard way as well." She smiled before floodlights shined down on the two of them.
Jordan pulled out his colt and he started blindly firing into the light, but his powers wouldn't work in the light.
He felt something strike him in his left shoulder and then in his stomach. He felt jolts of electricity course through his body and he collapsed on the ground before everything turned black.
(?)
Jordan woke up with a killer headache and the blinding light did not help either. He went to rub his temples, but his wrists were restrained by some strong bands on the chair he was sitting in.
"What the hell, hey!" He shouted. "Where am I?"
"A facility and that is all you need to know." That woman's voice echoed. "And I need your help with a deadly assignment."
(AN)
Okay, brief start to the story, nothing special. This was just to get my foot in the door. Here are the requirements for the characters if you wish to submit one and I will only accept one so make sure you are comfortable with your character. These characters will be criminals, what kind is up to you, but no mob bosses or kingpins just grunts and I want adults not kids. I look forward to what you bring me.
Name:
Age: Above the age of twenty five no younger.
Race:
Gender:
Hair color/ Eye color:
Sexual Preference:
Personality:
Outfit:
Skills:
Darkness Relic: The relic can be a weapon or an accessory your choice. What is the name, origin and the curse behind it? Example, Jordan's revolver is named the Peace Maker and it was once used by Jonah Hex and if it chooses it's wielder by whoever is killed with the gun in their possession and the curse is that they are forced to kill with that gun at least once a year before the owner's birthday.
Darkness Power: Keep it limited. No immortality or godlike proportions nothing too ridiculous. Example, Jordan has a darkness sharpshooter ability allowing him to see through walls, fire through walls and even share his power with other darkness wielders.
Belief on The Darkness: Does your character follow up on the darkness or does he/she just use his/her power and not care where it comes from, your choice.
Bio:
Criminal Background: Hitman, enforcer, pimp, prostitution, drug dealer, whatever your filthy minds can come up with.
Weapons: pistols, rifles, shotguns, knives swords, bow and arrows or they can just stick to their relic if it is a weapon.
Reward: They are guns for hire after all. Argus owes them something.