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 Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 10:58 pm
   Owen Hunt
Owen noted the silence and as it dragged on became more curious. He left his cover and turned the corner into the room where the scene was laid out. Oh God. He thought to himself as he saw the gun and the blood. The worst part was seeing Eren. Owen walked over and knelt beside the body but did not touch it. He could see a slip of paper in the hand that was not holding a gun and he pulled it from her so that Eren wouldn't have to. Then he held it out to the orphan. "Take your time." Owen looked at the scene before him and reflected on the answers he would never be certain about. He could figure out why she had killed Dwight. Marriage difficulties maybe? Maybe the idea of him going back into a costume frightened her and she wanted to stop him. They argued and maybe she hit him to hard or something. Then again, why kill Betty? An affair? No. Too simple. Owen turned to his last source of information so gather whatever little inkling he could before building any theories. "Eren, why would she do this? Kill him, kill Betty? Why now? What happened in their marriage? What happened to her?"
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:12 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
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Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 11:17 pm
When the paper was passed to him, he rubbed his eyes. “Carry on my wayward son,” he thought. He knew it only said the title, but he knew the complete lyric, the tune. His father used to have the song on for him; it was Dwight’s favorite, something to keep him going. When Owen incquired about the relationship between Dwight and Karen, Eren sighed once more, replying, “My father was always a good man. He loved her, she loved him. They never fought, but I always knew she was hurting inside. As soon as the city needed Criss-Cross, Dwight Goodwin was gone. She hated it, I hated it too, and that’s why I left the country and never tried to take up the mantle. My father could never let it go. It was all he knew. He said he was retired, but we knew it was bullshit, too good to be true. Betty was the same way; she didn’t help. God knows why she did all this. Bottled up emotions, maybe? I’ll never know.” He wondered if things would’ve been different had he not left—or as he felt then, abandoned—his mother when he knew she felt neglected at home. If there was a deeper reason why she went to such extremes, he didn’t want to know. The only things he knew for certain were that he needed to bury his mother, and when he got the chance, he would take off and burn his father’s costume. He never wanted to see it again.
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Posted: Sun Jun 18, 2017 11:32 pm
Owen Hunt
Something had to take the cap off the bottle. Owen kept that thought to himself when Eren finished speaking. Eren didn't need to think there was anything more than what was in front of him. Owen knew that, he knew personally that when you kept looking for something deeper, some meaning to the cruelty of the world, you got lost in the darkness. "Call the police. I'm sorry. I'm just... sorry." He blamed himself a little again. Maybe he should have been faster. Then again, Owen knew by now it was just a phase that would pass. Eventually he would realize that he couldn't have stopped it. All he could do was keep investigating. Find out what caused her to snap. Until then, he needed to tell Susan what had happened. Owen slowly back out of the room and stopped only when he reached the door. "Will you be alright?" What Owen was really asking was if he would hear that the whole Goodwin family had died on the news tomorrow.
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:13 PM | Alias: Azrael | In Costume
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2017 1:44 pm
He was unresponsive to the apologies; he was sure plenty of people would feel sorry somehow, himself included. However, he did respond to the inevitable question of his condition. “I’ll survive, my sister needs me for now.” He wished he was the only one to endure the trauma, but there was also his sister, a young adult who would find she had no mother as well. He would call the cops soon enough, but he just needed to be alone. He would need time to recover, lots of time, assuming he ever recovered. Understandably, he wanted to die, but life was cruel—or kind, difficult to tell—because people still needed him alive, so he would live on. He hoped to console his sister, confide in his wife, then return to Turkey. His father never knew how to walk away from it all; he wouldn’t make that mistake.
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Posted: Mon Jun 19, 2017 4:51 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen left the house as soon as Eren answered him. He knew the need for time to think after something like that.Owen knew where he had to go next. Back to the woman who had started this all. Back to the beginning. Somewhere along the way he changed out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a black v-neck sweater. He texted Susan in advance that he was on the way which was unusual for him. Most of the time he only texted her when he had arrived. Within half an hour he arrived at her house and took his usual route in. He didn't disarm because he had left all his weapons with his suit at the Stable where he had only stopped to change. Owen took a seat at the counter and sat quietly. He didn't drum his fingers or do anything to tell her he was there. He just waited. The brief time he had let him reflect on his unanswered questions. It helped him draw one conclusion that would define his immediate future. The future of his entire team. But it also gave him time to think about the lives they lead. Heroes. It was never about victories. Everyone saw the victories and thought that they wanted to be a part of that. Nobody ever saw things like what happened to the Goodwins. If they had, the world would have fewer heroes.
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:43 PM | Alias: Azrael | Not In Costume
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Posted: Tue Jun 20, 2017 9:23 pm
It had been an extensive period of grief for the superheroine, having attended her friend’s funeral just a few days prior, and delivering an impromptu speech about her finally being united with her sister in paradise, followed by a heartfelt farewell to her mentor. It was difficult to say the least, having to attend yet another friend’s funeral after having lost someone not too long before, but her troubles were far from over. When she received a text, she hoped to stumble upon some good news, seeing as she had yet to receive word that, after all this time, another friend bit the dust, and a family was left forever scarred in the worst way. If only the world knew the sacrifices people made when they put their lives on the line for the common man; it was not for the faint of heart, and the suffering of the night was a direct result of these sacrifices, sacrifices people wouldn’t understand—at least not the way they needed to. All the while, she was curious, and after rising from her bed and walking to the kitchen, she rose a curious brow and waited for him to speak his mind.
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Posted: Tue Jun 20, 2017 9:43 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen saw Susan arrive and yet he still did not speak. It was a hard thing to do. Delivering the news. He had always hated that he was never cold enough to just say what had happened. His inner anger made him cruel, but not that kind of cruel. Susan was a good woman and he hated that it was her he would be hurting. "It's over. Dwight and Betty's killer is dead. She killed herself tonight. The pain over what she had done was too much in the end." Owen began quietly after too long of silence. "It was Karen. She saw that Dwight was thinking about getting back into the life and she couldn't take it. After all the years of bottling it up..." Owen stopped talking and looked down at the counter. There was more he wanted to say but he didn't want Olympia worried. He could let her think that it ended here in her kitchen. He didn't have to tell her that he suspected a greater player in this dangerous game. A player in the most dangerous game of them all. She didn't need to worry about it anymore, but he wanted to tell her. So he just found himself looking perplexed as he stared at the counter.
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:45 PM | Alias: Azrael | Not In Costume
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Posted: Wed Jun 21, 2017 10:08 am
“Christ…” she said, shaking her head at the thought. Understandably, the revelation caused a period of silence and contemplation as the superheroine found her heart growing heavy. While part of her understood, there was just a fallacy in her mind, this realization that something just didn’t make sense, rather than just the despair of realizing someone she adored and respected could do something so awful. “It doesn’t take a detective to know she may have felt neglected, but to kill her husband and a friend? It just…doesn’t seem like her, and I’ve known her for years now.” While she didn’t want to just bury herself in denial over how well she knew someone, she was genuinely dumfounded by the idea that someone like her could amount to something so awful alone. “You think there’s more to it, don’t you?” While the discovery of the murderer was a success, the satisfaction of completion hadn’t been met yet, because it just didn’t seem fitting that a woman so honorable would commit such an atrocity on her own volition; someone had to have convinced her it was the way to go. While the revelation made her doubt her opinion of her friend, she really wanted to believe that Karen wasn’t entirely at fault, that a devil on her shoulder persuaded her.
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Posted: Wed Jun 21, 2017 1:45 pm
Owen Hunt
"I do." Owen finally admit. "No one just snaps like she did. Maybe if she'd seen him the costume but he was just thinking about going back. Someone had to have been whispering in her ear. Someone convinced her to do it." Owen spilled the thoughts he had been forming and they just kept coming. "It wouldn't have been a common thug and it wouldn't have been someone with a lot of power. A thug isn't smart enough and a powered individual could have killed Dwight themselves. Whoever did this wanted to see the family broken. They wanted the joy of knowing that they had put the family to the test and Goodwins failed. I only knew one criminal who would gain that kind of satisfaction. He nearly destroyed the Horsemen. Killed all but me. He's dead. I don't know who did this. I don't have any more leads."
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:46 PM | Alias: Azrael | Not In Costume
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 8:41 pm
It was a shame to think the nightmare wasn’t quite over. “I have a bad feeling that whoever’s responsible for this isn’t finished with us just yet. I don’t enjoy it, but—unless we’re lucky—I don’t think there’s much to be done for now. I have to wonder, however, how are you holding up from all of this?” He had seen plenty of suffering tonight. While she wasn’t short of grief herself, she hadn’t witnessed the despair firsthand like he did, nor watch as the hope began to die away before his eyes. In all their dealings, he always had the fortitude, that stoic expression that concealed whatever troubles lingered within. While she doubted he would openly confide in her, she wanted him to know that she understood and respected him for all he had done. It wasn’t easy for many; two heroes had fallen, alongside a mother who fell victim to someone else’s cruel scheme. In the end, the murderer was found, but there was little satisfaction in the outcome, as a family was left broken, with yet another body meant to know the ground’s touch. He owed their family nothing; he had no kinship with them, yet he had provided what justice he could afford to give. It was bittersweet at best, but there were more lives to be endangered, hearts that would thankfully still beat, however heavy, for a nightmare brought to a partial conclusion.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 9:05 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen didn't know how to answer that question. How was he holding up? He didn't know. He couldn't know. There was still so much anger and confusion in him and not all of it was because of the case. Everything happening with his team piled onto it. "I hate this." Owen finally admit. He didn't want to be so honest but there was no one else he could be that honest with. Not even the other Horsemen. None of them had been around in the old days. None of them knew the full price yet. Even Andrea didn't know the full depth of the pain that this life brought and she had been through a lot. "I hate that the real killer gets away because their pawn killed herself and I hate that no one is going to hear what happened to the Goodwins and learn." That was one of the worst parts and as he began to admit these things he couldn't help but think about Olympia's team. He couldn't help but question it. "You and I both know that this isn't a life for anyone. The time of heroes should have ended. We create the villains. We give criminals higher goals to strive for. We give them the competition they want. And they destroy our lives. Then we arrest them and they get to do it again."
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:48 PM | Alias: Azrael | Not In Costume
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 9:58 pm
It came as somewhat of a surprise, but if there was ever someone who had any hope to understand, she was; she had dedicated so many years of her life fighting, even when it felt so futile, so pointless. “You’ve seen the other side, same as me, the moment when you do the best you can and find it still isn’t enough. It’s all so glorious until you look hard enough: the goodbyes, the failures, the moment when all hope dies, no matter how strong we are. I’ve always questioned it: if I’m even making a difference, or if I’m just fooling myself. When it came to leading her life, she had people to guide her, people to show her the way, people who gave her hope when there was none. While she didn’t always have someone flying into battle with her, she was never truly alone. “When I find I’m not alone, I look at my companions and see they all fight for something, believe in something. I see people who find others in need and have the courage to help them, to lay their lives on the line for a cause that, however foolish, is kind and just. How can I see them ready to protect their fellow man, knowing they have the capacity, and tell them no? I can’t.” Maybe she was a fool, and frankly, if some divinity told her so, she wouldn’t deny it, but she needed to believe all the sacrifices she and those like herself made mattered. “It’s not a perfect world, Owen, and what we do will never be easy, but I have to hope. I have to…”
While her current company wouldn’t know, she could still hear the soft breathing of her daughter as she rested in her bed. When it came to the subject of people taking on such a burden, it was especially true for her daughter, who hoped to follow in her footsteps one day. Susan couldn’t bear to hear Emma proclaim a desire to protect innocent people, good people, and tell her no. Her father always told her it was the duty of those with power to use their gifts for the benefit of all, to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves, and to be a beacon of hope for humanity.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 10:21 pm
Owen Hunt
"It is easy for you to say that. When one of your friends die, the world mourns with you. You were all heroes in the public eye. Loved for everything you did. Loved for all your suffering. No one could ever understand the toll that the losses take but at least they knew it happened. Annabel Grey, Mathis McLeod, Alice Sitwell, Ellie-" Owen stopped himself. He knew it wasn't right that he was so bothered by this. He knew it was wrong to take it out on her. His own issues were exactly that, his own. He couldn't be angry that she didn't know. "Just the names of the dead the world never mourned. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so angry about this. We fight, we die. We do it all to save the people who can't fight and we never ask for anything in return." That was the mantra that Richard had enforced during Owen's youth. The helpless. We fight for them, we die for them, and we ask for nothing in return. Owen repeated it in his mind. "It's hard for me. You look at your team and see hope, I look at mine an see ghosts. You see heroes rising to take a stand wearing the name of another as tribute, I see replacement parts. You fight the battles the world sees. I fight the dark corners of the world where the cruel hide and prey on the weak. Your recruit young heroes to keep them safe. I allow one to join my team and she is tortured within an inch of her life in a few weeks. We live in different worlds and yet here we are in your kitchen. Two people who know that this life only ends one way." Owen couldn't be optimistic. Not after everything. That was the real difference between Owen and Olympia. Deep down, she was a good person, and deep down, Owen was not. Not anymore.
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:50 PM | Alias: Azrael | Not In Costume
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 10:44 pm
His words were insightful, really. While she was aware of most of it, especially how different things were for the two of them, there was something so powerful about hearing him say it for himself, to admit his own understanding, his own perspective—the sort of pain that clung to each of his words. He was right about plenty of it; if she died the morning after, thousands would mourn her, and no one would ever forget her name, but he could not say the same. It wasn’t about the fame, that much was true, but there was a lingering despair at the thought, if she were ever to think that—regardless of all she’d done—that no one may ever know, or if they did, they would be few. As someone who always found recognition, it was especially difficult to think of how much she sought it out, if only to validate her actions. “For what it’s worth, I believe you’re a good man, even if you don’t see it. Whether the sacrifices are known or not, the good you’ve done, the good you’ve all done—no matter how small or temporary—is real.” After a moment of silence, she spoke again, changing the subject. “I feel like I’m preventing you from sleeping, so I’m sorry for stalling. I won’t harass you about it, but if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m around, and my kid, too. I’m sure she wants to know more about the…kitchen ninja,” she said, somehow managing a small smile at the thought of her daughter’s guileless observations.
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Posted: Thu Jun 22, 2017 11:02 pm
Owen Hunt
Owen smiled slightly and his gaze dropped to the floor. He wouldn't sleep that night. That much he knew. Now he had more work to do than before. Things to sort out. Karen Goodwin had killed her husband but someone had pushed her over that edge. Owen would find out who. For now he would go home, make sure the team was safe, and the go to the Stable to think. There was more work to be done and no amount would ever be enough. There would always be more crime for him to fight, more battles, more enemies. Now that killing was off the table that number would grow and he would have to be ready. Still, her comment about the kitchen ninja brought a smile smirk to his face. If she thought he was a ninja she should meet Sam. That guy really had the ninja theme in his costume. "I suppose you're right. I'll leave the way I came in." Owen moved around the counter toward Susan and then past her towards the door where he stopped one last time to turn and look at her. He had just one thing that bothered him. One concern left in the house. "Take care of your daughter. I don't want to see you're family end up like the Goodwins." Or mine.
Day: April 12, 2012 | Time: 9:52 PM | Alias: Azrael | Not In Costume
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