Justice League Porn Story: Vodka and Oreos Chapter 1

AN: Thus begins another story, only this one is a
combination of twenty-five one-shots. My inspiration is from The Lady
Isis Sushi Ocean, which is a recommended reading.

Pirate

Mother, mother ocean,
I have heard you call
Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was
three feet tall
Youve seen it all, youve seen it all

Yes, I am a pirate,
two hundred years too late
The cannons dont thunder, theres
nothin to plunder
Im an over-forty victim of fate
Arriving
too late, arriving too late

A Pirate at Forty-
Jimmy Buffet

The
sea is a living thing, constant in its endless, changing movement and
the white-noise sound of it. Its waves roar deep into my blood,
searing and tingling to an almost boiling point, but never making it
over the edge. Clarks voice is still resonating in my head from
five days ago, You need a vacation, Bruce. Maybe a week or so. You
need to get out of here. So I did. And now, Ive done nothing
but sit out on the back deck of my vacation home, overlooking the
crisp white shores of the Gulf of Mexico, and get drunk. From the
time I wake up around noon to the time I pass out in that too huge of
a bed that reminds me of how lonely I am, I drink. It doesnt help,
but Im slowly convincing myself that alcohol will solve my
problems. Ive never been a heavy drinker, just a glass of
champagne or two at a fundraiser or a shot of Jamaican rum, never
anything too serious.

Until
she was taken. Theres another reason for the alcohol, too. It
slows down my thought process, to where all Im thinking about is
the ocean. Moments of my past come back to me: six years old, playing
in the oversized bathtub in my mother and fathers bathroom, and I
can recall the plastic battleship in my hands, pushing it further and
further into the bubbly water. My chubby hands chuck the ship back
out, resurrecting it for pure enjoyment, while the water slides
quietly out of the tub, splashing onto the marble tiles. I had always
wanted to be a pirate, setting sail to the sea with my parents and
dog, Sadie. Now, I want nothing to do with the gentle
and turquoise-colored waves that roll in underneath my bare feet. Not
too long ago, they were stained a color I was used to, red, with
blood.

Tonight,
I dont want to take a seat at my usual spot and gaze down at the
beach-goers. Tonight, I am one of them. I look for a sign of her on
the horizon, but the only thing I find is emptiness. Its funny,
how I was so destined to protect her from my enemies, believing they
were always one step ahead of me to finding out my relationship with
Diana. I had never even considered her enemies, ones that escape out
of the depths of Tartarus to seek their revenge.

The
bottle of Grey Goose in my hand is beginning to warm from the salty
air, but I tip my head back anyway and guzzle. Right now, it is the
only bodily movement I can manage. The
Fates are against me,
she whispered as the Battleship Wisconsins davit punctured her
entire left side. The water swishing and slurping in my bottle of
vodka reminds me of the sound of her body when it slid underneath the
surface of the water.

I
drink a little bit more, easing the bottle all the way back until
nothing is left. Truly, theres something always left behind in the
end, but right now there is nothing. I came out here on the beach to
feel the wind, the sand still blazing underneath my feet even with
the sun gone long ago. Unlike most nights, it is cloudy with a chance
of a light rain.

I
drop the bottle to the sand, watching a couple stroll by past me and
give me a strange look. The numb feeling in my throat is back,
tickling and teasing for another drink. I dont acknowledge it and
instead step out, closer to the oceans edge and I try not to think
about the sticky salt water lapping at my ankles. My calves. My
knees.

My
chest. I dip into the water, opening my eyes and for the first time I
dont feel that instant sting of searing pain. My blood has boiled
itself to nothing, the rest of it destined to evaporate with the rest
of me. Sea-glass eyes stare out at me as I swim deeper and deeper,
resting my body against the bottom of the ocean floor. A group of
navy-colored angelfish dart past and it seems their bodies are
painted with stars. White stars. Sure reminds me of the American
flag, hun, The captain is saying to her and I feel my fists
tighten, but she laughs. Squelching noise of the davit making its
impact. The Fates are against me.
USA Today headline: Wonder Woman Dies in Battle. The
Fates are against me.
I close my eyes and drink in the salt water that tastes like booze.
Drink up me hearties, yo ho. Yo, ho, ho, a pirates life for me.

By
the time my body is found, I will be long gone, sharing a glass of
champagne with my princess. Time does not exist while on (or under)
the waves of its mercy. It forgets nothing, remembers everything
else, and has plenty room to employ. Brothers have drowned in its
wake, mothers have cursed its name, and lovers have disappeared into
its vast waves. The sea is a living thing, constant in its endless,
changing movement and the white-noise sound of it.

AN:
If this chapter left your minds questioning, good, because it
should have. There are a few empty spaces that you can fill in by
yourself, such as the person who killed Diana. And I promise that the
next chapter wont be as forlorn as this one.