2010-07-09 - Avarice: A Prelude
From JLU MUX
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| Avarice: A Prelude | |||
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| Summary: Two of Darkseid's Elite attempt to further their master's design. | |||
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"It is time we made a bolder move, I think." There is some murmuring at that, and the robed man just waits for it to die down.
His sister, the source of the rumbling, ends her consultation with a subordinate and turns to him imperiously. "I have already dispatched the finest agent on hand to determine whether or not the people of Earth have discovered another potential avenue into that which we seek."
Desaad shakes his head. "I understand that, but it is not your Fury's mission of which I speak, Bernadeth. Too long we have tinkered here, trying everything within Father Box's power to unlock the secrets of fear. It is not enough."
"What do you suggest? The Korugaran and his people have provided us with as much intelligence as we could force out of them." Bernadeth scowls, her green-tinged lips tugging downward. "If you would like me to recall one of their agents for torture, I could give them to Malice. She really needs a bit of playtime."
"I do not believe that will be necessary, sister." Desaad opens his hand, sallow fingers uncurling to reveal a gleaming orange light. "For Sinestro's followers have provided us another boon."
"Avarice," the leader of the Furies sussurates, lips pursed.
"Yes. I think it is time we put this emotion to the test." Darkseid's vizier looks down at the ring in his palm. "Kindle the spark in one of Earth's heroes. Let it flame as bright as the firepits of Armagetto."
Bernadeth reaches out a pale hand to stroke her brother's cheek, lightly. "Have you one in mind?"
"Yes," Desaad says, leaning into her touch. "Sinestro has shown me the one. He is young, corruptible, and he burns with greed. He watches the Green Lanterns and covets their legacy."
Bernadeth turns, then, and directs one of her Parademons to open a nearby window. "Do it then, brother," she says, too-wide smile revealing bright, even teeth. "Let us see if what Lord Darkseid seeks lies in the dark heart of this mortal boy."
With the slightest gesture, the orange ring flies out of the purple-swathed man's hand and off into the sky, directed toward the most appropriate bearer it can find.
Desaad knows who that will be. And he smiles.
