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 Posted: Mon Aug 28, 2017 6:38 pm
 xxxxxxx• •Recap↴Things got rough for the League, but after a few publicity events, things turned up rosy. A few instances of attacks that disrupted both public they were able to handle it with style. Soon after, they got a tip on a weapons deal that was happening that night, leading to a fantastic raid. They fought through some serious gangsters wielding some nasty weaponry (courtesy of the Intergang) but they managed to clear it with flying colors.
xxxxxxx• •New Members↴The League has added a couple new faces to the team. The new team members would have already met their team leader (Deacon or Savanna), at least briefly, in order to receive a map of the tower, their comm unit, and a room assignment.. They could have just arrived in two weeks, or just in the last few days, but should now be living in the Tower. It is perfectly acceptable for you to work out a few details with your co-writers on meeting some of the team, instead of having to write out introduction after introduction. If you have any questions, please seek out a mod's help.
xxxxxxx• •Oldies↴For the sake of narrative, about two months have passed since the last arc. Have fun!
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Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2017 7:42 pm
  Name: Isabella "Bella" Stone
Codename: The Siren
Location: Conference Room --> Infirmary
Ability: Audiokinesis
Isabella sat in the middle of the long wooden table in the main conference room. The room was a little chilly for her tastes, but it was quiet, and it was unlikely that she would be interrupted. Normally she wouldn’t be caught dead roaming the halls of the Tower without one of her friends but the work she planned to do required perfect concentration. It was getting easier, the more she tried, but she still had a long way to go before she would figure out her little cylindrical puzzle.
Either through superior reasoning, threats, or excessive bribery Deacon had managed get the MPD to let her keep the trinket she’d found. Perhaps it was because it didn’t look like much more than a decorative piece of metal. It had taken her two months of failing to figure out the smallest piece of the puzzle. Scientists in the lab had told her that it was made of a metal similar to acoustium but not quite. It was alien and in a perpetual unstable state despite how solid it seemed.
At present she sat indian-style with the metal piece in front of her. She held her hands out just a few inches from it and tried to meet the sub-sonic frequency. The chairs around the table shook as she struggled to fine tune and invisible pressure built up. This was why she usually toyed with it alone. She didn’t want to actually hurt anyone. It was strange. The more she tried to force the metal to do what she wanted, the more it seemed to fight back, stubborn. Perhaps it was because she didn’t really know what it was meant to do.
There was a terrible screech in the air before the cylinder suddenly turned into large spiked ball. She pulled her hand away, but not fast enough, and one of the shining spears pushed partially through the side of her palm. Her lips opened to scream but her jaw snapped shut just in time. The metal cut like a hot knife through butter. There was no resistance. She pulled the decorative gray and pink striped sheer scarf from around her neck and wrapped her hand immediately. From the amount of blood that she’d seen plus the pain…It had to be kinda bad.
Her eyes fell back to her project and she watched curiously as it fell to liquid without stimulation before it became solid again. The strange engravings had returned and it shone under the lights like chrome. This time she noticed it formed a circle. She picked it up with frustration as her eyes watered from the pain in her hand. She didn’t fear it. The object didn’t change unless she made it change.
Oddly enough, now, it looked like a very chunky bracelet. Considering it wouldn’t fit in her pocket anymore she slid it over her good wrist as she scooted off the table. She needed to get to the infirmary. Isabella could do a lot of things but triaging her own wounds was not something she wanted to do unless absolutely necessary.
The auburn haired sound user arrived in the infirmary not long later. The facility was sterile and exceedingly clean. It looked like no one had ever been seen in this office let alone had open wounds closed up. The main desk seemed to be covered in books while nurses and aides went this way and that. No one seemed to notice the small woman who held her injured hand close to her chest. They were all too busy. Green eyes looked for the kind field medic that had been with them on the Raid at the docks. Bella wanted her help. She seemed nice.
Peeking her head around the stack of books a little nervously she waited for the frazzled Bree to notice her. Normally she would have used her comm or phone to announce her presence but her hands were otherwise occupied. After a moment she lowered her good hand and wrapped her knuckle on the desk to keep from getting blood everywhere. Once she had the woman’s attention she looked to the hand that was wrapped in a now crimson stained scarf.
Bella offered her an apologetic smile but it just appeared pathetic since it seemed like she may or may not cry.
[OOC: ....]
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Posted: Tue Aug 29, 2017 9:38 pm
 Theodore Von Windsor~ SparkyThese times
will try to define me
But I will
hold my head up high Well, he hadn’t expected there to be a day that he could call himself a member of the Justice League. His dreams from even a few years ago had nothing to do with becoming part of a group of crime-fighting super heroes. Yet, here he was, walking into the Watch Tower in the middle of Metropolis. While he couldn’t say he hated his current predicament, some part of him still wished he was still on the way to being an army medic.
So much for that though.
He took a deep breath and walked further into the tower. Many people walked about the place, making him raise an eyebrow. Honestly, he had assumed there wouldn’t be a lot of people in the Watch Tower. The Watch Tower seemed like some secret society of superheroes to him as a kid. Guess that had been a false assumption on his part. He adjusted his hold on his bag while walking towards one of the desks.
“Hello there. I have a meeting with uh….” Wait, who was the name of the person he needed to talk to? How could he have let that slip? As he glanced down at his hand, he saw the name had been smudged. Stupid hand sweat. “Just tell them that Theodore Windsor is here. They should know who that is” He quickly said to try and cover up for his mistake.
The secretary looked at him like he had a few lightbulbs missing. He might as well have. Normally, he kept calm enough to where he could write names, phone numbers, etc. on the palm of his hand. But, at least the secretary went on to grip her phone and get a hold of whoever he was supposed to be speaking to. Her hand pointing at some chairs and waving said hand made him assume he was supposed to sit down on some comfy seat nearby.
He smiled slightly before heading over to the chair and sitting down. His body relaxed and he allowed himself to drop his bag of things on the chair next to him. As he crossed his legs and rested his feet on the foot rest in front of him, he closed his eyes. He might as well take the moment to clear his mind. For all he knew, they might have changed their minds and wished to recede their offer.
And if that was the case, then he needed to be prepared to once again wonder aimlessly searching for a new dream, a new purpose for his life. I'm telling you
these times are hard
But they will
pass! I am at: The Tower: Floor 1
I am with: No one
Weapons: N/A
Items: Bag of stuff (Clothing, etc.)
Love Interest: No one
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Posted: Fri Sep 01, 2017 7:29 am
 
【】Name: Deacon Richards (Team Lead)
【】Location: The Watchtower
【】Thoughts: Just another day on the job
"And we go to our foreign correspondent David Olivera live in Bogota as the growing humanitarian crisis in the ongoing “Narco Wars” continues to escalate. David?” the voice announced, the featureless smile of the virtual anchor was almost unnerving for Deacon. He was used to seeing a human face on the screen. Deacon stood there in his office, cradling a glass of water in his hand. Ice cubes danced in the clear liquid as he took a sip. It was a pleasant morning in Metropolis, fall had begun to take shape. The leaves weren’t going to start changing just yet The summer warmth had started to However, things now shifted to a scene in what looked like a warzone. The sound of gunfire echoed in the background, the reporter tensed up with each shot. He wore a combat helmet and a flak jacket, which appeared to have been grabbed at the last minute since the helmet was slowly falling off and the flak jacket was a couple sizes too big on the man.
The young reporter’s voice stammered to life “Hello I’m David Olivera, live down in Bogota, Colombia where the violence has escalated to new levels of carnage. Car bombings are a regular occurrence, and the police and military are on edge as the Cali-Medellin Cartel wages a bloody and violent war.” the blonde now was focused on the television. It was a long time since he’d even heard of either of those names, even just on an old television show. Those two cartels were dissolved and taken down well before he was even born. But, then again, names carry a lot of power over the years. And whoever decided to christen their operation with that joint name seemed to have some serious firepower to back it. The reporter continued to speak, while images of the carnage that wreaked havoc across the country were shown. Destroyed buildings, execution sites, armed checkpoints, it was a blur of pure militarized mayhem.
“No one is entirely sure where they have come from, but this reporter will continue to investigate.” the reporter finished, Deacon began to turn his attention away when the desk phone began to ring. He had it installed for the singular purpose of familiarity, he was not one to have holo or video installations in his suite just yet. Picking up the receiver from the cradle, he calmly stated “Deacon speaking.”
“Yes hello this is Diane down in reception. There’s a gentleman here by the name of Theodore Windsor who is here for a meeting. I wasn’t sure who else to call.” the voice on the other end said, to which Deacon’s curiosity was raised. A meeting huh? Well since he got the word he’ll have to go down and check this person out. Sounds like a new recruit by his guess, so who knows what will be in store.
Replying back to the receptionist he stated “I’ll come collect him in a couple minutes. Just have him sit tight for me will you?” he asked, when the response was in the affirmative he answered back “Thanks Diane.” before resting the receiver back in the cradle. Taking a moment to stretch, he briskly walked himself to the elevators.
The lobby was a calm place, not the hustle and bustle of other major buildings. The clean white floors were polished to a near shine to perfectly reflect the mid-day sun. Looking to the reception desk, the woman pointed to the gentleman sitting calmly off to the side.
Approaching him carefully, he asked with some confidence “Mr. Windsor I presume? Deacon Richards, I was asked to escort you up.” he offered his hand to what appeared to be a new recruit, hoping to gauge just what this person was like.
Sorry if its no bueno, but let me know of any problems!
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Posted: Sun Sep 03, 2017 12:37 pm
 
What is calcium absorption facilitated in the presence of?
The white on the card caused her to blink but she closed her eyes and answered the question silently. Flipping it over, she sighed in relief.
Next card.
Describe the difference between humoral and cellular response.
Gods above; deciding to go to med school on top of joining the Justice League had been a monumental mistake. She had four exams, two papers and a practical this week… on top of everything else. Luckily, there were a few aids willing to help cover her busier times, but she still felt more at home studying in the infirmary than she did anywhere else. Cramming with a series of notecards in front of her, books sprawled out across the table in what appeared to be no order, Gabriella bit her lip in frustration. Why hadn’t she gone to med school sooner?
She was so busy studying that she never noticed someone standing in front of her. Squeaking in surprise at the rap against the desk, she jumped out of her chair, finding her feet as easily as a disheveled cat. “Oh!” She exclaimed, green eyes bright. “Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
Noticing the red stain on the scarf, she tilted her head. “Looks like you’re here for a really good reason.” The nurse said sympathetically, motioning for the woman to follow her to an exam table. She pulled her hair back into a messy bun before washing her hands and grabbing a pair of gloves. Immediately setting to work, she was quiet as she unwrapped Bella’s wrist. “Ouch.” She murmured, already readying the supplies for sutures.
Just before she looked up at the songstress, and sighed, feeling slightly guilty for being willing to prolong the poor girl’s pain when she could erase it completely. “Can you keep a secret?” She whispered, watching Bella’s face carefully to gauge if she could trust her. Taking off her glove, she pressed her fingertips near the wound, sealing it as the damage corrected itself, almost as though the gash was going back in time. When her skin appeared normal and free of any damage, she let go. “No one knows…” Her voice was still secretive but pleading. “I don’t want to be responsible for people growing reckless and doing something I can’t fix. People who know they can have someone instantly heal their injuries tend to throw caution to the wind and ...” The sadness in her voice indicated she knew too well from experience as she trailed off. “When people come here, I take the edge of their pain, make it manageable and they chalk it up to modern medicine, never suspecting that I have sped along their treatment. They play their cards closer to the chest then.” She couldn’t magically fix everything right now; she didn’t have the knowledge to do so, and she certainly hadn’t mastered her ability.
“Please don’t tell anyone. And be careful not to hurt yourself.” Glancing up at the woman, she smiled. “I just… wanted someone to know. And maybe understand.”
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Posted: Mon Sep 04, 2017 12:20 pm
 
She had never expected to be here for this long. Every day here made it harder for her to remember her plan, or even why she needed to find him so badly. After spending so much time on her own, she had not expected to care about the people she met, but she did. Lola, Isabella… Aiden. Even Mason and his nosiness had grown on her. For the first time since her youth, she had friends. Every night, she preached in her head about how tomorrow would be different… she would wake up, get the information she needed, and close this chapter in her life.
And yet, here she was - not executing her plan. Again.
A million times she instructed herself to steer clear from the cryokinetic; of all the people here, he was the worst sort of distraction. He made it all too easy to forget she came to the Justice League with an agenda… All the heartache, the tears, the anger… it seemed to float away when he entered the room, and she needed those to function. That untested fury held her together, made her strong. Though he held power over ice, his warmth continued to melt her hardened exterior, leaving her vulnerable to things she swore she would never feel again.
The time to shut him out had long since passed, and even now… slightly terrified of what may happen, Karmen knew she didn’t possess the strength to push him away. Not completely. She had successfully stamped out the idea of something more than friendship, but only just so. Thankfully, he had accepted that, never pushing for more than what she offered out of a sense of self-preservation.
Still though, she had to wonder if he was actually winning. Things like today especially left her pondering who really held the reigns in their game of cat and mouse.
It was frigid. Awful. Even in her fleece-lined leggings layered over long johns, the long sleeve shirt, a hoodie, and a down-filled winter coat that didn’t stop until her calves, she shivered. Pulling her second hat up, she felt twenty pounds heavier as she made it to the side of the pool.
“Are you sure this is safe?” She asked with a puff of frozen air, the deeper blues in her eyes shimmering as they reflected the Aiden-made glacier filling the pool. Leaning over the edge, her blond curls danced ever so slightly around her shoulders and face. Still hesitant to put them on, she held her skates by their laces, letting them dangle behind her back with no real regard for the sharp blades attached to the soles.
The pyrokinetic watched in wonder as the ex cop glided over the surface as though he were weightless and born to the ice. Unable to stop the smile pulling at her mouth, her gaze trailed his graceful movements that made her keenly aware of him. Thankfully, the wintery air had already painted her cheeks crimson, and he would never know how easily he caused her mouth to go dry. “I’m pretty sure that this is a ruse to get me to fall and break a hip.” Karmen said after a minute, taking a step back from the rink.
Pursing her lips, she thought of one more reason why this was a bad idea. “Not to mention that IF I fall, I’ll melt the ice and drown under the ice. Or get hypothermia. I really don’t want to relive that scene from Titanic.”
OOC: I couldn't grab my post style from last arc. sweatdrop XXXXEDIT ALERT: This is Angel Reaver - I edited your style back in for you.
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)(Over.Dose.On.Cyanide)( Crew
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Posted: Tue Sep 05, 2017 7:19 am
 
Savanna felt her jaw ticking as she watched her laptop screen play the recap from the fashion show that had taken place the previous night as she slept. While it could be frustrating being the last to see it, that was what was working her nerves. Everything they debuted was absolutely ugly.
Most items were pointed and sharp, jetting out at awkward angles or digging into the model's flesh. Some even looked incomplete with panels of fabric missing in various places. It was becoming harder and harder to watch. Surely this had been a joke? She hit the spacebar, pausing the show as she decided she had enough.
Thankfully it wasn’t officially fashion season just yet. Hopefully, this would just be forgotten in a day or two. A sigh passed her lips as she closed the laptop, deciding that she was glad she had chosen sleep over watching the disaster as it happened.
Her eyes went back to her cereal bowl. The cereal had been gone for a while, leaving the milk with a film of crumbs. Unlike the animal nature that she gained her powers from, she had no desire to drink it. It would be tainted now by the cereal, giving it an awful taste and texture.
She pushed herself up from the table and took the bowl to the kitchen to clean it. Quickly she washed and dried it before sticking it back into the cupboard where it belonged. She grabbed a bottle of water and leaned on the counter, trying to decide what to do with herself for the rest of the morning now that she wasn’t going to finish the fashion show.
She claimed her laptop before moving herself into the living room, deciding that she could afford some time to just sit and veg for a while. She flipped on the tv and went to Netflix before picking some sort of chick flick.
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Posted: Tue Sep 05, 2017 7:38 am
 
Duke splashed himself with water from his bottle before taking a drink as he ran around the indoor track they used to train. He was on mile three as he passed his starting point. He chanced a glimpse at his watch trying to see if he was on time or not. Flinching he picked up the pace slightly.
It had been a rough transition for the southern boy. He had let himself go slightly after the military program that gave him his prosthetics was shut down. Once upon a time, he was able to run the three miles at around twenty-five minutes give or take, but now he was clocking in at thirty-five or forty.
His old drill sergeant would be having a field day with him.
He pushed himself, finishing out the last mile at thirty-six minutes and forty-seven seconds. He threw his head back as he slowed his run to a jog before finally coming to a stop. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he leaned forward, bracing his hands on his knees as he gulped down air, waiting for his vitals to return to normal.
He could hear his arm beeping past the country music blaring in his ears. With a frown, he righted himself and took another drink out of his water bottle before blinking his eye. Though his cybernetic eye, he could see that the battery on his arm was nearly drained. Sighing he blinked again, ridding himself of the vitals check. Thankfully after checking it, the beeping had stopped.
The arm would need to be charged soon. He decided he would charge it while he showered, and hoped that would be enough to get him though the rest of the day. Then he could give it a proper charge as he slept.
 ΔÐeltaΔLocation: Training area Δ Company: No oneThoughts: Ugh
""
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Posted: Tue Sep 05, 2017 11:20 am
Theodore Von Windsor~ SparkyThese times
will try to define me
But I will
hold my head up high He didn’t know how long he had been waiting before he heard someone speak to him. His eyes slowly opened as he turned his head towards the person. A man (Deacon) maybe about his age by the looks of it. Theo got up from the chair and smiled over at him. “That would be me.” He gripped the hand offered to him firmly and shook it before letting go. “I believe your name does sound familiar to me now that I think about it.”
What had the recruiter said to him? He furrowed his eyebrows as various tidbits of information passed through his name. “I remember the person that recruited me told me to come here and speak with one or both of the team leaders about me becoming a part of the group.” That still didn’t explain the slight familiarity of the guy’s names. His eyebrows stayed furrowed before he snapped his finger and his expression relaxed. “Oh, now I remember. I believe you were one of the people mentioned by the recruiter.”
He could be totally wrong. But, he figured the guy would correct him if that was the case. “I am not sure how this recruitment process fully works. But, I figure I’ll find it out along the way?” He questioned with a slight tilt of his head. Deacon did say he was here to escort him. Maybe it was to some room to have a meeting? He shrugged softly while keeping a friendly smile on his face. “Though, I do apologize for my forgetfulness. I am normally not that bad with my memory, but my quick form of note taking failed me.”
Because to him, carrying around sheets of paper seemed inconvenient when he could write what was important on his hands. This incident was probably a lesson that he should just invest in a lead pencil and a memo pad. “And you can call me Theo by the way.” He mentioned only so Deacon didn’t feel like he had to call him Mr. Windsor the whole time. To each their own though if the guy continued the formalities. “And what should I call you?” Might as well figure that out too while he was at it.
Otherwise, he might unintentionally offend the guy. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done such a thing. He just liked to avoid it if he could was all. I'm telling you
these times are hard
But they will
pass! I am at: The Tower: Floor 1
I am with: Deacon
Weapons: N/A
Items: Bag of stuff (Clothing, etc.)
Love Interest: No one
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Posted: Fri Sep 08, 2017 9:58 pm
Name: Isabella "Bella" Stone
Codename: The Siren
Location:Infirmary
Ability: Audiokinesis
The sound user felt a little guilty for bothering Bree. Her hands were full of notecards and her desk full of books. It was obvious that she was either studying for something or doing a hefty amount of research. Still. She didn’t know any of the other medical personnel in the room. Truth be told, she barely knew the brunette woman in front of her, but she at lease knew her face. Everything she knew about the Watchtower revolved around what she’d learned from Kal-El during her time before joining the League. It was all still very new to her. Its people, rules, and facilities were all new.
The handler that had been assigned to oversee her transition, Graham, was probably one of the few at the Tower people that didn’t give her reason to pause. He was good. Honest and thoughtful. Her memory loss made things difficult. It left her overly cautious from time to time and to her extreme discontent fairly vulnerable. Kal-El had recognized it after making his way past her barriers, and upon depositing her on his team of powered heroes, told her to trust Deacon. Deacon trusted Bree. It made the choice simple.
When Bree jumped up in surprise Isabella took an involuntary step back. She held her injured hand tighter to her chest and bit her lower lip as the woman noticed the reason for her visit. Slightly misty eyes showed that she was blinking back tears as she nodded to Bree’s statement. She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to be strong. Most people thought the opposite of a small mute woman with zilch in the way of memory. She wanted to prove them wrong. She slowly released her apprehension when she was gestured toward an exam table and she carefully took a seat. Bree didn’t seem upset for her interruption.
Green eyes followed the slightly shorter woman as she moved about the infirmary with ease. Isabella hadn’t spent much time in front of so much medical equipment, not that she remembered anyway, and the sterile environment felt strange. It was devoid of the life that the rest of the base tried to emulate. Bree made the space brighter. Less inhospitable.
Isabella closed her eyes and looked away when Bree unwrapped the ruined and soaked scarf from her hand. The metal that she’d been working with seemed like it had taken a good chunk out of the side of her hand. The edges of the wound were smooth and precise. It was reminiscent of a kitchen accident, save for the fact that it could hardly be called a laceration, and appeared to be more of a large puncture.
Her slim shoulders were squared, her entire body tense, in preparation for whatever needed to happen. Only, it didn’t. Bree asked if she could keep a secret and though the sound user thought it strange she shook her head in the affirmative. What better person to tell a secret to than one who supposedly couldn’t speak? She watched curiously when the nurse took her glove off and then something amazing happened. Her hand throbbed and screamed. And then, it didn’t. She blinked a few times as she brought her hand to her face. Very close—As if inspecting for some kind of trick.
Her gaze went back down to Bree, still clearly surprised, but listening as she explained her secret. The fact that she could take what felt like agony and cure it in moments was incredible. At most, the area that had been cut into itched. Other than that it felt completely normal.
As her astonishment slowly wore off and the need for a promise sunk in Isabella found herself trying to think of a way to reassure her. Of all people, she understood the burden of a secret. Wearing a small grateful smile she mouthed ‘thank you’ before holding her hand out with her pinky up. It was clear that she was offering a pinky-swear. It was a small, silly gesture, but there wasn’t much else she could offer for reassurance. The notion of trading a secret for a secret crossed her mind but her stomach bottomed out at the thought. Nightwing had always taught her that they were best kept when the loop was small. He preferred to keep everything to himself.
Two people already knew some of the truth on the base. Would one more be so terrible?
Reaching for her back pocket with her free hand she tugged her phone free. She typed with the hand that wasn’t busy pinky-swearing. After a moment she turned the screen for Bree to see what she didn’t dare write down on paper.
‘In good faith…I’m not really mute. Deacon and Mr. Kent know. Now you do too.’
[OOC: ....]
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2017 10:19 am
Jumping up out of her chair, it didn’t take long for Gabriella to figure out precisely why Isabella stood in front of her. “Sorry for startling you, I was just caught up in my notes.” Rolling her eyes in exasperation, it was pretty clear what she thought of being a student again. “I’m too old to go back to school.” She said with an edge of frustration, ignoring the fact that she looked like a woman still in her twenties. Dropping her flash cards, she motioned for Isabella to follow her to an exam table.
Carefully, Bree unwrapped the injury so that she could inspect it. “Ouch.” She murmured empathetically, getting her surgical tools ready to clean the wound and stitch the parts she could. The puncture would need to be left open once they stopped the bleeding, and Isabella would be in pain for a few weeks yet to come. With her scissors in hand, she hesitated and glanced up at the mute woman. What good was her ability for if she never used it to keep people from suffering?
Biting down on her lip nervously, she asked if the sound manipulator could keep a secret. When she nodded in the affirmative, Bree pulled off one of her gloves and gently touched Bella’s wrist. Concentrating, she repaired the damage from the inside out, leaving nothing but unharmed skin in the wound’s wake. “It’s not a trick.” She whispered with a smile as the woman inspected her wrist.
Explaining her reasoning for hiding the true miracle in her gifts, Isabella understood. Mouthing a thank-you, Bree smiled as she took her pink in Bella’s. “No, thank you. I just didn’t feel right letting you suffer for as long as that puncture mark was going to take to heal, when I can fix it right now. Plus, you don’t seem like the type that would take for granted the fact that I can’t make everything better.” That was part of the reason she needed to pursue a medical degree.
If she knew how stuff worked, she might be able to be more efficient and not tire herself out as quickly from healing. Smoothing her skirt, she busied herself with putting away the supplies so that no one would be the wiser. When she looked up, Bella held out a phone with a message typed out.
Tilting her head in surprise, she hadn’t really been pushing for the woman to give up one of her own secrets. After a moment, her green eyes clashed with Isabella’s. “I understand.” She said softly. “Though, I didn’t expect…” She trailed off, knowing Bella would know where she was going with that. “But thank you for trusting me.” She wouldn’t let the cat out of the bag, even if she didn’t understand why Bella chose to be a mute.
“Hopefully one day, both of us will be able to tell everyone else what we have to share.” She said with a small smile that could light up the room. “Deacon… Deacon doesn’t know about mine.” A part of her felt guilty for not telling the team lead, but then, she doubted he would listen to her anyway. He always seemed so busy. “He just thinks I’m ageless, because I was a kid when he was. My mom treated him for a while, but her gifts were in integrative medicine, in knowing tinctures and things. Her power wasn’t enough to heal him completely, only take the edge off of his pain.” And back then, her village had hidden her ability away, keeping her safe from the outside world who would otherwise demand to have her. They treasured her, allowed her a childhood.
And she couldn’t have asked for more.
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Posted: Mon Sep 11, 2017 3:58 pm
  Frustration wafted off of the weather manipulator in waves as she slammed the locker room door behind her. Dru had been up her a** since the incident at the soup kitchen—didn’t he get it? She’d done it. Ya, she’d needed help from the magic user. Somewhere to focus the storm but she had managed to grab the reins of her storm, of her emotions and forced them under her control.
Instead of being happy for her like a normal brother should. Dru was a constant shadow. Watching every move she made and just down right driving her up the wall.
He was acting like she was a bomb and at any second she was going to detonate.
She was—if he didn’t back off and give her some space. She fumed, tugging her hair up into a high pony she quickly stripped her clothes and in record time was once more dressed in athletic shorts, sports bra, and athletic shoes. Taking a little more care with her wraps she slid one on and then the other. Making sure to wrap each wrist carefully so not to jar either of them. That would be yet another thing for her twin to worry about.
Hurt wrist or no, she just might have to hit him.
Leaving the locker room she made her way toward the desired equipment. Her gaze locked on the punching bag. She didn’t even make time for a stretch, she just pulled back and with a battle cry began to lay into the bag.
The force of the hit sent a shock wave up her arm. Forcing her to bite her lip to stop the yelp of pain from escaping but she didn’t stop. The second hit was easier. The third. The fourth. Before long she lost count. She kept up her assault till she was dripping in sweat and panting. Her knuckles had long since gone numb but she didn’t care.
She just. Kept. Hitting.
Over and over again. She could see him. Even when she couldn't see him she could feel him. Knew he was near by. Knew he was watching her every move. It only became worse when she would go outside. Then he made his presence known and stayed right by her side. She couldn't even go outside to practice with out him on her.
Why couldnt he trust her?
Why did he have to look at her--like...like everyione else?
Like she was damaged goods?
Like she was one emotional out burst from creating the next ice age!
Why didn't he have faith in her?!
Like he use to....
She stopped her fist, seconds away from the punching bag and stood up straight. Had he ever trusted her? Had he ever believed she was capable of doing this on her own?
---
location:: work out areaxxxxxx with:: near duke
ooc:: need to get her post layout - will do that as soon as i find it
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Posted: Fri Sep 15, 2017 1:49 am
 Zoa formed a fist and quickly turned to the source of the robotic sound that suddenly traveled through the docks. And as quick as he was on the button he was quick to release his grip. Instead of another robot revealing itself to the party, ready to finish what the previous runner couldn't it was the Hispanic woman; giving her thanks to him and to the Butterfly. The word she used to describe his actions made him shake his head and switched to his intermediate spanish accent.
"It wasn't heroic..." he said with self criticism. It was suicidal if Zoa hadn't been an elite when it came to movement. And had he managed to break into the robot, he would have slit the runner's throat as fast as the he was able to operate the controls.
"But I had to try..." he mumbled through his bandana. He learned twice the hard way that if he could act in a situation that wasn't in his favor then he still needed to act...
Before he could move his way towards various exits, the one with the ice powers that had thought similar to Zoa's in terms of their man in charge opened up with an introduction. Glacier clicked well to his description of his powers. His Chi Sense reaffirmed he was another C class that stood out with his ability. Z may have declined the ride but not the handshake.
Zoa gave a right hand out and gave a firm and respectful clash to his open hand. "Nice to meet you. Nice technique by the way" He looked towards the android woman for a moment then decided she didn't need his compliment for some reason...
He walked towards one of the few routes that was suitable for his exit, cycling through their levels of performance when he was stopped again. He wasn't happy when she almost called him by his name. Not when "company" wasn't around. Maybe it was because she had gotten used to it? If they were being technical Z himself found him in the same scenario with her. "I've overstayed my welcome." The adrenaline fix was on full and if he knew the outcome of trying to obtain that fix he would have gotten it taking out small time crooks. He took the flask from her and lifted his bandana took a quick waterfall of the liqour before handing it back to her.
"You didn't tell me you were with them..."
Relaxation traveled through his body, and distress at the same time. She spoke the truth in that her team was focused on the big matters at hand. The real threat that were plotting to tear this country apart as seconds passed. But if they had time to deal with threats throughout the worlds, they couldn't save one college student? The fangs were dull but were still felt from Z. And knowing that she had connections in the first place that could have...
"Cmon Zoa..." He remembered what he saw beyond the masks, marital arts, guns and booze. She would have called on them if she knew they would help.
He collected his thoughts and aimed his attention back towards the one that was able to phase through the robot. "On second thought....."
T/S
A hovertaxi came to its last street near an alley and came to a halt. "Appreciate it." The disciple hopped out, took a look behind him and reached inside his pocket. "Should be good." The taxi driver blew smoke on the opposite window, took the cash and gave a nod. He waited a moment before the taxi rode off out of his view before he went on the move behind the alley; scaling and bouncing off the alley walls unseen. Approaching with one of his vehicles left a dubious taste on his palate; also directly showing up on their front door. The backstreets were hidden gems that society didn't know about, and during these last 2 months, Zoa had continued to take care of what he had, discover the city and to find each nook and cranny the public averted from. When it came to a social crowd Zoa had more luck with acquaintances and didn't expect anything higher.
He assumed there would be camera's, and if anybody was watching them, then they would see a bald caramel skinned man walking up towards the tower with a white tee, black jeans and tennis shoes casual gear. Z's eyes averted to the skies where the precipice of the watchtower stood and pulled out his cell phone. Not that he needed to double check, but this was the right area; no tricks, no schemes were felt from the Chi disciple in the area. His thumb glided along the keypad with familiar and, unfamiliar energy signatures being felt through the tower. Was this his rehab to becoming a hero again if he were to send this text? He was halfway towards the finish line of his purpose in this city and by walking away he could be closer to leaving Metropolis.
"Stick around, and you might just find yourself being a hero."
"....I doubt it." was his response to fiona that night, and 2 months later, he position still stood. And the "send" button was pressed anyway. He placed his phone back in his pocket and waited for her response.
"...I'm outside the Watchtower." He had taken the offer from the leader that night but carefully maneuvered his way through the city for hours before going back home. This time appeared different.(meh post es meh.)
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Posted: Fri Sep 15, 2017 8:00 am
All of Duke’s vitals were starting to return to normal. He stretched out his non-bionic leg for a moment, the music still playing though his sports ear buds. Once he was satisfied that it wouldn’t start craping on him, he move to where he had dumped his belongings.
He claimed a towel before pulling out his earbuds and wiping down his face and neck. He paused, some confusion crossing his face as he heard someone in the next room pumbling something. He claimed his discarded shirt and shrugged it on before draping his towel around his shoulders and grabbing the extra unopened water bottle he brought with him.
The pumbling sound didn’t seem to slow, and now it was accompanied by angry Russian words. It had to be one of the twins, and by the sound of the voice, it was Alexandreina. The only thing he really knew about the woman was that she could control the weather. He was going to head to his room to shower, but his curiosity got the better of him.
Duke poked his head into the next room and watched her for a moment. She was alone and looked like she had been tousling with the punching bag for a while. Sweat dripped from the woman as she stopped her last punch.
Duke cleared his throat to make his presence known so he wouldn’t be labeled a creep. "You doin’ alright ma’am? You need a spotter or some water?" He offered taking a step into the room waving the bottle of water at her. Whatever she was taking out on the bag was really none of his business, but if she was going to continue at her rate she could use a spotter to make sure she didn’t hurt herself.
Exhaustion could be a dangerous thing. He had seen enough in boot camp to know that much. Of course, it wasn’t like he really followed those rules anymore, but with him being able to keep a closer eye than most on his vital system he didn’t need it. At least most of the time.
Not that it really mattered, if the woman declined and told him to leave he would.
ΔÐeltaΔLocation: Training area Δ Company: No oneThoughts: Ugh
""
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Posted: Fri Sep 15, 2017 8:13 pm
"Maybe the driver is the one who needs a Kumbaya?!"
The stench of cheap bourbon and even cheaper box wine wafted through the air of the studio apartment. The aromas that some sad individual might find glorious, lingered over to a body that was using a desk and a scattered case file as pillows. The body of the elusive PI extraordinaire, Fiona G'wandoya. Although, her current state was anything but extraordinary. She'd blame the alcohol, but then that would suggest she drunk herself into a coma on accident. No such thing ever occurred. Ever. While the rest of the team went straight to the tower after the mission to celebrate their small victory, Fiona had a victory party of her own. Or self-loathing party. The two had become the same thing to her. Albeit she was also trying to wrap up a case. Keyword: "trying".
Another death. Female. Late 30s. The woman was pretty, successful, and utterly insecure. It made the case rather easy, and difficult at the same time. The young woman had left this earthly realm on her own terms, but didn't want anyone to know; not even the loving parents who brought the case to the PI’s attention. Fiona didn't know what was harder: having to look at the lifeless corpse or tell her client's that this lifeless corpse belonged to their daughter. Nothing ever made this job easier. Well, in most cases. Scotch usually did the trick, but last night reminded her that pain could only ever be numbed.
Bzzzzt! Bzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzt!
The alarm on Fiona's phone went off like a madman for about 20 seconds before the south african woman slammed her finger on the dismiss button. "Dammit..." She huffed as she lifted herself up and ran a hand through her brunette locks. The goal was to move the last of her personal belongings to the tower today. She had already moved a majority in, leaving herself with just one suitcase full of, well, let’s call them the personal belongings of the Butterfly. Fiona was giving up the studio apartment fully. She was still going to use the space as her office for whenever a case came flying (crashing, exploding, insert other wild adjectives) her way. The League had her full attention, for now. People still needed her on the other side of vigilantism. She believed that wholeheartedly.
Fiona pushed herself away from the desk, and threw on the leather jacket dangling on the back of the chair. Her duffel bag and silver flask waited for her at the front entrance of the apartment. Fiona casually strolled over, recollecting all the memories she had in what was her small part of the world for so long. She patted herself down before her hands felt the current pride and joy of her life---her flask. Fiona raised the silver flask full of Bulleit bourbon to the room, and took a deep swig. Time to start a new chapter, a new journey.
----------------------------At the Tower---------------------------
To: Z
Msg: On my way~ for someone who talked soooo much s**t, you sure did show up fast
Fiona smirked to herself as she responded back to Zoa’s text. It was sure to make the equally hardened vigilante laugh to have her of all people, teasing him. She hadn’t realized how close she was in proximity to the tower until she saw the $6 charge for her Uber. Who, by the way, was literally taking the long route through the city to get to the League headquarters. She squinted at the driver using the driving mirror. “I know what you’re doing, but you could have just taken 64th street and been there in better time.” Fiona commented with her tone ever so sharp, and accent ever so present.
“Don’t tell me how to do my job, lady. You must not know I’ve been living in this city for years.” The driver scoffed.
Fiona chuckled deviously before taking a swig from her flask. “YOU must not know that I can whoop your a**.” The south african woman stated boldly in rebuttal. “And that’s with a buzz. A buzz I’d rather not ruin.” Fiona was going to leave it alone after that until the driver decided he had a pair, once again.
“Are you even from here?” The driver fired back as the car slowly came to a halt in front of the tower. Finally.
“Oh, because you and every other american are such natives of the country---bliksem.” Fiona casually threw the insult to the driver as she collected her things and exited the vehicle. He could kiss that 5 star review good ******** bye.
Now that the car ride from the twilight zone was over, a more friendly interaction awaited her.
Fiona rolled up next to Zoa and let out a sigh of relief. She’d never tell him how much she appreciated him accepting the offer to team up with the League. She’d also give him hell for it every chance she got. Now, for example. ”You know, now that you’re officially in, we can braid each other’s hair and sing kumbaya with the rest of the team----that is the expression, right?” Fiona playfully nudged the martial artist. He of all people knew that was the last on her list of bonding activities.
The PI walked towards the entrance with her duffel bag in tow. Ironically enough, the man Zoa needed to see, Deacon, was already in the lobby with another individual. Another new addition, perhaps? Fiona nodded in Deacon’s direction and maneuvered over to him and the other male. The south african spitfire had already gone through the necessary formalities with the de facto leader last month when she accepted the offer. And got her room. And got the run down on every rule involved in living in said room. So, really she was just here as a liaison for Z.
“Wow, team leader and welcoming committee. I like your style, Mr. Richards.” The afrikaan’s segway was difficult to pinpoint as her natural sarcasm, or her just being a skosh (or very, to some) uncouth. For Fiona, that was the norm and the League was about to get a daily shot of it. Cheers.
OOC: Eh to Alright start.
|| Location: Loft to Tower|| Company: Zoa, Deacon, and newcomer. || Clothing: The Sessions ||
Cuckoo by Raleigh Ritchie
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