|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 1:58 pm
   Owen Hunt
"None. I've seen what I needed to." Without another word to help her or to guide her investigation, Owen left the room. He needed to act quickly and the SIA would slow him down with pointless questions and other tedious tasks. Rules. He left the building and proceeded to distance himself from it as he sought out Olympia. Betty was dead. Two people in the photo were gone now and he needed Olympia to positively identify they others. How long did they have before the killer attacked again? What was the killer's timetable? They had left the clue in Jazzman's hall but how long had it been between the killer leaving that clue and killing Betty? Could he have stopped her death if he had investigated just a day sooner? Or had he triggered something when he opened the cellar that told the killer to strike? It didn't matter now. Betty was dead and Owen had new leads to follow.
It would be late at night by the time he arrived at the Isley villa so he expected she would be home but that didn't stop him from entering the way he always did. As usual, getting past the actual guards was a little more difficult than getting past the cameras but he did. Years of experience helped in little things like a break in. Within a few minutes he found himself in the kitchen, standing at the counter while he disarmed himself. He set his sword, his pistol, an assortment of little knives, and his hand crossbow down onto the counter and drummed his fingers knowing that Olympia would hear it. The third time he had broken in, he had sent her a text saying that he was in the kitchen and she had responded that she knew because she could hear his heartbeat. So by now he expected that she knew he was hear and rather than text her, he drummed his fingers on the counter. They needed to talk.
Day: April 5, 2012 | Time: 10:50 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2017 1:05 am
Her day had been a busy one, having given an earful to the senator responsible for hindering their progress in the transport endeavor the day before, not to mention visiting some injured comrades and somehow finding time to spend with a close friend at a diner. It only took a turn for the worse when, a couple minutes before, she received a text stating an old friend had passed away. It was late, but it wasn’t like she was asleep earlier; it was hard to rest when a message from Karen stated that Betty was dead. However, no tears came, just a mournful silence, sighs and instances of regret and curiosity, wondering how she died and who was responsible. Her own concerns made it difficult to sleep, even as she laid beside her daughter, comforted by how soundly she slept beneath the moonlight from their window. It was difficult not to try and distract herself with other sounds, from the sound of the wind to her daughter’s gentle breathing. When she heard muffled footsteps, however, she didn’t think much of them, perhaps her security, though the familiar sound of objects being set down and the drumming of fingers on the kitchen counter were clear enough a sign. It just so happened that he caught on to her senses when she unintentionally tuned in to his heartbeat in a previous encounter, an odd occurrence. He would know she heard him by the sound of a door opening from her bedroom, and the superheroine emerged from the hall to enter the kitchen in her sleepwear, rubbing her eyes before leaning against the nearest wall, crossing her arms, and facing him with a look of curiosity. He had strange timing, but there was always a reason for it, so she would save them the asking. “What can I do for you, Owen?” she asked.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2017 9:03 pm
Owen Hunt
"Betty Comley is dead. She was thrown out of her window and died on impact with a car on the ground level. I'm sorry. I know she was a friend." Owen of all people understood what it was like to lose friends and given then current status of his team, it was all a little close to home. Still, facts first and questions later. "I was close. Maybe five minutes late. The same killer who killed Dwight. I'd say it was speculation but-" Owen pulled out his phone and went to the pictures he had taken of the burnt photo. He set it on the counter and slid it across to Susan. He was speaking quietly enough that he hoped her daughter wouldn't hear, then again if she grew to have her mothers powers what would be the point of that? "I found that photo at Jazzman's Hall with the burnt remains of the witness we talked about and the ashes of countless others who likely died in the fire that destroyed the place. I found an identical, unburnt copy in Betty's room at the crime scene." Owen gave a moment so that Olympia could scroll through the photos if she wanted to. He expected she would be smart enough to know what question came next. She was in the photo with both the victims. She knew the faces that were hidden and because of that she probably knew more than Owen did right then. Expecting she would know the questions, Owen did not ask them. He just waited for her to say what she knew about the photos.
Day: April 5, 2012 | Time: 10:52 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 8:37 am
At the reminder of her friend’s passing, she had to take a deep breath, though she went about it quietly, letting him speak on, describing the situation. However, seeing her friend there in the picture, alive and well, made her eyes water, her heart growing heavy in a way that no battle of fists could ever do, but she did her best to compose herself. “We took these in 1994 by Lake Michigan, with Mark, Betty, C.J., Dwight, Karen, Walter, and my father. Karen was taking the picture, so that’s why she’s not in here. Mark had gotten out of rehab, Betty was getting through the anniversary of Anna’s passing, Walter’s son recently got graduated, and Dwight was catching up with his wife. C.J., my father, and I were just along for the ride. Just a normal day by the Lake. Betty and Dwight are dead. This photo’s no coincidence. Whoever the killer is, the people in this picture are involved.” Given that the first copy of the photo was partially burnt whenever it happened, the murderer was likely trying to burnt it, but had to hastily depart before they got the chance, perhaps having had doubts about burning it. It was personal. “For the specific names: Mark Sully, C.J. Turner, Karen Goodwin, Walter Preach, and my father Jim Isley.” She didn’t bother including Dwight and Betty. Walter was already dead by natural causes, so that may have ruled one out. Walter was, astonishingly, the father of Herald Preach, the senator whose cynicism of superhumans was very clear. Mark was formerly the homicidal vigilante known as the Super Soldier, and likely had the most troublesome past of them all, though he put that life behind him. C.J. Turner was obviously Diamond Girl, who led a similar life to Olympia. Karen was obviously mourning the death of her father. Jim was just a father looking to spend time with his daughter then, and given that Janet Isley (his wife) had died earlier that year, family was especially important.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 4:17 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen wanted to try and make Olympia feel a little better, he felt for her, really, but he knew that the case mattered more than feelings. The mission came first. She had explained the photo but that left another question, one that he would get to before he left. For the moment he focused on the picture. "Where are all of these people now? I know Sully is dead but where are the others who are still alive? At the very least they are in danger now. " Owen paused and let another question stew in his head for a few seconds before he vocalized it. "Dwight's body is missing. Does that seem like something anyone you've encountered would have done? It was odd that his body had disappeared after all. Not a common thing.
Day: April 5, 2012 | Time: 10:54 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 4:49 pm
It took a moment to recall the details, but she did answer. “C.J.? She’s still a close friend. She still lives in the South Loop, the penthouse over at Ymir Tower. I’m seeing her tomorrow, anyway, probably to talk about Betty. Walter’s dead. My father’s out traveling the world, I believe. I get some postcards here and then. Karen’s still at the Goodwin house, but she’s been worried sick recently, claims Eren’s been missing. His wife may or may not know where he is. I don’t think I’ve ever had the issue of a body being stolen before. I’ve dealt with my share of bad people, but they at least let the dead rest. I’m not sure I know of anyone specific who would do something like th—” Other footsteps could be heard, urging Susan to turn the source. There was some astonishment, however, since Olympia hadn’t even heard Emma rise up, only hearing her recent footsteps. Emma came forward in her pajamas, a little shy as she peered out from the edge of the hall, her gaze shifting between her mother and the strange man she was talking to. “Is something wrong, honey?” Susan asked. Emma nodded.
“I’m hearing the noises again. It’s very, very loud,” she said. What she was describing was her superhuman senses. As the daughter of Olympia, she had inherited her mother’s powers; to what extent was uncertain, but superhuman senses were among them. It was difficult to rest, because she couldn’t control what she was hearing. The smells were tolerable, but the noises, the awful, awful noises of the car engines, the skidding of tires, the sirens, it was all so overwhelming. Olympia could understand; she experienced similar problems when her powers were manifesting. Susan opened her arms, and Emma came forward to embrace her mother, nuzzling her mother’s waist before turning at the stranger once again. “Mommy, who is this?” she asked in a bit of a hushed voice.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 9:02 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen was confused by Emma's question for a moment before he remembered he was wearing his mask. He felt sorry that he was wearing it for a moment but the feeling passed. Emma was still young, she shouldn't have to know what their world was like. It was honestly something that bothered him about Susan's recent activities. Her team. The Hero Society. They had seen yesterday that being heroes wasn't always easy, but they had not seen the dark side of it yet. The side that Owen and Susan had. The loss and the suffering and the funerals. He wanted to talk to her about it but they did have more pressing issues at the moment. Maybe when the case was resolved they could talk, but for the time being Owen had to stay on task. He looked down at Emma and crouched a little so he would be on her level. "Just a friend with an ugly face and a mask to hide it." Owen told her. It was probably the lightest thing he could say. Still, now that Emma was up they could only talk so openly. Owen, still crouched, looked up at Susan. "You should call the friends you can. Tell them to... um... be ready for surprise reunions. You should be ready too. You are in the photo. I will go see Eren and find out what I can." It was hard not to directly say anything in front of Emma. He didn't know how much the little girl knew, and he didn't want her to know anything.
Day: April 5, 2012 | Time: 10:55 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 15, 2017 9:45 am
“I’ll contact you of any news. Goodnight,” she said politely, waving him off for his departure. Naturally, she would try and contact everyone and ask how they were doing, if anything suspicious had occurred. Frankly, she wouldn’t be giving away anything of seeing the photo if she contacted the people in the photo; she had kept in touch with them.
Emma followed in her mother’s example, managing a confused smile but smiling nonetheless when she waved. He looked funny to her; the costume reminded her of Meta Knight almost. “Is he a ninja?” she asked, tugging lightly on her mother’s shirt.
“Probably.”
“That’s so cool…”
Susan chuckled and patted Emma’s shoulder. “Let’s help you get some sleep, kay?” With a nod from Emma, mother and daughter returned to the room, where Susan would help her with a few sensory exercises just to make the powers more tolerable.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jun 15, 2017 3:30 pm
It had been nearly a month since his father died. Originally, Eren wanted to be there for his family, especially his mother and sister who took the death especially hard, but return to Istanbul with his wife, but that all changed when the news announced his father’s body had been stolen from his own grave. After a long time, Eren was forced to reevaluate his relationship with his father. Eren always scorned being his comparison, living in his shadow. It was why he traveled to Turkey, why left his old life, only to find he was trapped in it once again. He and his father had a rocky relationship at best, but Dwight was still his father, and he deserved to rest. For the last two weeks, he’d been heading out, finding Dwight’s old foes, people who had a history against his father. Multiple criminals found themselves visited by a mysterious fellow dressed as Criss-Cross.
This time was no different, as Eren held a mercenary named Bricksquad’s face at the brick of the wall. Eren had recently absorbed a titanium-steel alloy he carried with him, which empowered him significantly, coating his body and becoming a homogenous organism. “What do you know about my Dwight Goodwin’s body being stolen? And don’t feed me bullshit; the gangs fessed up about you being near that graveyard.” he demanded. Eren had been interrogating the city’s underworld with fierce perseverance. Every speck of info, no matter how small, was what he searched for. He made some progress, thankfully.
“Wouldn’t tell you, you piece of s**t,” replied the man, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the wall to knock Eren back. It wasn’t enough, however, as Eren struck the man’s right shoulder, breaking bone, before kicking him right through the window of the third floor. Bricksquad fell into a dark alley, his clothes stained by puddle by his head. As he turned around, however, he caught glimpse of Eren’s image growing closer and closer, spitting out blood after Eren’s metal legs landing on his chest. Eren stood up, resting his foot on Bricksquad’s neck. “Talk,” Eren said plainly.
“A blonde woman came to us. Paid good money for us to cause a racket the day before, lured all the police away. I don’t even know if she was the one who wanted the body.”
“That’s not enough. What did she look like? Who was she?”
“I don’t ******** know. She was covered head-to-toe in black, for ******** sake, glasses and everything, only a bit of hair poking out under the hat. That’s all I know, I swear!”
With that answer, Eren calmed down. The night was rough, a whole lot of nothing. It was a week ago when he heard Bricksquad was involved, and it took that entire damn week to find where he was. With a swift stomp of the head, Bricksquad was out cold, but that would be the last of their tussle. Eren had seen enough violence for one night, taking a deep breath as he walked over the unconscious male.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 17, 2017 1:20 pm
Owen Hunt
It had been a short time since Owen visited Olympia and during that time he had achieved a lot but nothing that helped towards finding Eren Goodwin. All of his success had been based around building his team and even now they were all at the Stable while he was investigating a murder case that was beginning to stretch with time. The second body had certainly prompted action from more local authorities but this killer was clever. Clever enough to avoid Owen's search for a month whereas most were captured in a matter of days. With his team now safe, Owen was able to dedicate more time directly to finishing his work. To do that, he had to find Eren and Eren was hardly being discreet. Owen noticed the pattern of Criss-Cross's old foes being attacked and was able to deduce who would be struck next.
Owen had reached the alleyway where he was going to sneak into the building but as he found the entryway, Bricksquad came flying out of the third story window. Owen took cover behind a dumpster and listened carefully to the exchange that occurred between the dead man's son and the criminal. He remembered a time when he was doing exactly what Eren was now. He could relate to the anger. So he knew that this would only go so well if he wasn't careful. Owen made mental notes of what the criminal said about a woman paying them to create a distraction. When he could hear the struggle end, Owen came out from behind the dumpster to find Eren in his father's costume walking towards the other end.
"Eren!" Owen didn't shout but he spoke loud enough for Eren to hear him. However once he said the man's name he found himself unable to figure out what he wanted to say next. He stood there speechless for maybe a second or two before finally figuring out what he wanted to say "I've been looking for you. I want to find your father's killer. Betty's killer. And I need your help."
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 8:58 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jun 17, 2017 2:18 pm
Eren paused when he heard his name. Owen caught him at a good time; he was furious about the good people that lost their lives to some mystery killer—a woman, apparently, though he wasn’t ruthless, not really. Owen’s choice of words (though he clearly didn’t know who he was talking to) spoke very understandably of the situation. Instead of getting hostile, Eren just took another breath and pulled down the mask. It was pointless in that situation; he knew who he was. “What do you need?” he asked plainly. Eren, as upset as he was, like so many others, had already reached a point where he knew he didn’t have to go about everything alone. There were people, good people, who cared enough to help him find justice for his father, and now Ms. Comely, who also had her life taken away.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 11:02 am
Owen Hunt
"Everything you have." Owen responded carefully. "I've been investigating for a while now. I have some suspects. Six right now." Owen reached into his pocket and pulled up a folded print out of the photo from Betty's home. He had printed a copy to look at a few days ago. Owen held it out towards Eren and it floated through the air to him. Not everyone in the photo was a suspect, but some were. "Two of the people in this photo have been killed. Betty was murdered moments after I found a partially burnt copy of the photo with her face crossed out. The fact that it is a blonde woman does narrow the list of suspects a little, but it isn't enough to make an accusation. What else do you know?"[/b
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 8:59 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 10:07 pm
“I know that it wasn’t a coincidence that the grave was unattended during the theft of my father’s corpse. I met with the security for both the people at the grave and the apartment where the next incident came; no one saw anything suspicious, outside some local rampage nearby that drew security away from the grave at the time. It had to be someone close someone that no one cared to look twice for. And even with this photo, it can’t be anyone here, not even her,” he said, pointing to the only blonde female in the picture, “because she’s already been accounted for. I know where she’s been, my mother always knew what she was up to, she alwa—” His eyes widened at the revelation: blonde, someone no one would’ve suspected, the photo—they had to be there when it was taken, but they weren’t in the photo, because they took the photo. His mother had her hair dyed a week before his father died, and each time he ever heard her speak of the people in the photo, she seemed to always know where they were and what they were up to, though he wasn’t even home when the recent murder occurred. He had a relatively clear awareness of where everyone else was, everyone but his mother. His fist found its way to the nearest pipe, denting the mental. “No. It can’t be…” While he was overwhelmed by the rush of emotion, he had to focus. “I need to speak to my mother,” he said, quickly utilizing the enhanced physical attributes he gained from his recent absorption to aid him in his rush back to his family home.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 10:21 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen seemed to realize exactly what Eren had just a moment after him. Olympia said Karen hadn't been in the photo because she had been the one behind the camera. He had seen her at the funeral with her dyed hair. How had he missed it? How had he missed the most common thing in a murder? Still there were other questions he needed answers to. Several questions. Owen knew where the family home was so he knew where Eren was going. He wouldn't beat him there but he could certainly arrive at nearly the same time if he went on foot. If Owen took to the air he would be able to get there first. Yet that wasn't his goal. Eren knew what Owen knew and Eren would be far less subtle than Owen. Dashing through the back alleys and dark corners of the city, Owen made his way to the Goodwin home. He saw the front door slightly open and instead moved around the back where he found a window and entered through it. Then he moved like a ghost through the house until he could find a spot where he would be able to hear Eren and remain unseen. He had plenty of practice sneaking into heavily guarded houses. This one wouldn't be any challenge.
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:10 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 10:35 pm
Unfortunately, there was no conversation, not a word, just a glance of despair when a man—a son—returned home to find his mother dead in the corner of her room, a gun beside her hand, a splatter of blood on the wall, and his mother’s head bleeding from the bullet that pierced it. He stood there in a trauma-induced silence, an empty gaze at his hushed mother, only the sound of his breathing to console him. He came to her earlier that night, hours before, told her he was close to finding out who it was, and that they would have justice; he should have never let her know, because—had he not—she might not have pulled the trigger. He wanted to be angry with her, whether it was the cowardice or the people she killed, but looking at her there and recalling the memories they shared, it was impossible. It was hard to hate someone he loved for so long, and now that she had committed the ultimate act of selfishness, he still couldn’t hate her, because she was his mother.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
