DC Crossover: Superman and Aquaman In 'War Preparations' And Batman In 'Bomb Bash'

A Mile Away From The Hall Of Justice...

"You know that literally looks like a mushroom suit, right?"

Superman hovered a foot off the roiling water as Aquaman rose from the depths. He was showing the Man of Steel the costume he had commissioned to make his debut on the surface.

"And that on your head..."

"It's a helmet," Aquaman said, not at all pleased that the Kryptonian was picking apart in seconds a design he'd spent weeks on.

"Well, it looks like a mushroom cap. I've seen Atlantean fashion. Why wear this?"

"I'm trying to make a statement," Aquaman said.

"I can't possibly imagine about what."

"Landers need to eat more leafy greens. Stop killing the ocean life. If they would just get on a diet of mushrooms and, I don't know, lentil soup, maybe, the world would be a better place."

"You know that sounds stupid, right?" Superman shook his head. "Look. Surface dwellers are good people. They may like their homemade waffles and linguini with scampi over kale and cabbage, but that doesn't make them monsters. You need to come to grips with that, or this is never going to work."

"You're right. You're right, okay?" Aquaman took off his bulbous helmet and walked to shore. A morning mist spread out around him as he sat down. Clutching his knees, he started to rock gently.

"Look, it's not all that bad. Just wear some Atlantean armor or something. People will love it," Superman said, landing beside him. "Why don't we put this debut off for another day, let you clear your head. Besides, Lois wants to take a trip to Sri Lanka for some black tea, and I could stand to pick up some Italian leather shoes on the way back."

"Fine, fine," Aquaman said, waving his hand, "Go. Have fun. Saving the world from a land/water civil war can wait another few days."

"Great. Later." With a whoosh, Superman was gone.

"Yeah, whatever."

The red light of a new dawn was breaking before Aquaman realized how long he had been sitting there, lost in thought.

"Not good," he muttered at the color, "Sailor take warning. There's a storm coming."

In more ways than one, he thought. Getting up, he walked back to the water and sent out a message for his trusty steed, Cantor. Presently, a large orca broke the water with a large splash.

"Easy there, fella," the erstwhile King of Atlantis, said, "I've got your sugar cubes." From a pouch in his suit, he produced the confection the orca craved, and wondered at how Cantor had so quickly grown accustomed to the surface sweetener.

"This isn't going to end well," he said out loud. Shaking his head at the futility of it all—trying to stop a war between surface and sea without the power of the throne at his command—he mounted and the two disappeared beneath the waves.

Meanwhile, Back In Gotham...

Slowly, with excruciating pain throbbing at the back of his head, Batman came to. It took a while for him to realize that he was in a room, handcuffed to the stuck drawer of a rather plain looking desk. That knowledge should have made him more alert, but instead, he remained disoriented.

The last thing he remembered, he was staking out a low level enforcer for the Black Mask, who was looking to expand his operations across Gotham. The thug had been nursing an iced coffee while pretending to be the night shift replacement for a security guard at the local 'bunny club' oddly named the Paper Plane. Black Mask's girl was a performer here, a girl with classical training as a tap dancer, and the crime boss wanted to make sure his girl was safe as he made his move on the rest of the city.

Batman was hoping to get the information about the turf war from the thug so he could stop it and finally put Black Mask behind bars. The last thing he remembered was hearing a scraping noise from behind him.

"Heckuva away to ring in a birthday," a voice said.

The door to the room opened and there stood the Black Mask, with a pistol in his hand. He appeared to be alone, but Batman doubted the villains goons could be too far behind.

"If I'd known," Batman said, working on the handcuffs, "I'd have baked a cake."

"Har, har," Black Mask said. "Let's get to the point, shall we?"

"Let's."

"What do you know about these?"

There was a click and a bright light shown down from the ceiling. On the floor in front of him, Batman could make out odd-shaped symbols. His vision was still a little blurry from the blow he must have taken, but as he concentrated on the glyphs, he was able to identify the shapes.

"Atlantean," he said, "A nautical language. Where did you get this?"

"Never mind that," said another male voice, this one with a British accent.

"Manchester Black," Batman said.

"In the flesh," the villain said. The dark room lit up and Batman realized for the first time that he was sitting in the middle of a circle of supervillains, a who's who of larceny, brutality and treachery. As they all stood over him, leering, Manchester Black stepped forward and squatted down, nearly to eye level.

"Our host, the Black Mask, thinks you can be persuaded to translate those symbols for us. Me, I don't think you can be arsed with it. Doesn't matter who's right, though. Either way, you do it on your own, or I rip it from your mind as you scream for mercy, we'll know what it says."

"What possible interest could you rogues have with an Atlantean nursery rhyme?" Batman asked. "Something about a tiny sea horse and a lazy wind who befriend each other and go on some grand adventure together."

"He's lying, right?" The Black Mask turned slowly to Manchester Black. The latter did some probing that made Batman wince, but he allowed the villain to his thoughts.

"No. He's telling it straight. Which means we've got a larger problem on our hands."

"And just what is that?" asked Batman.

"We were going to help Atlantis take over the world," the Black Mask said, "but it seems they don't want us on their side, after all."

There was a clank, and Batman was suddenly free. As he leapt to his feet, the circle of villains disappeared as the lights came down. From the doorway he had previously entered, the Black Mask said, "Don't call us, we'll call you."

As the door shut, Batman finally deduced that the two dozen pinpoints on the surrounding walls were signal indicators for remote controlled detonator bombs.

What did they hit me with?

The question echoed in Batman's mind just as the blasts began.

_{Images from Pixabay and Unsplash}

This post is conjunction with the daily five minute freewrite hosted by @mariannewest. In all, 24 previously unused prompts were used. They can be found in italics throughout the story.