[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/292173065305980928/442091616228999182/coollogo_com-17681281.png[/img][/center] [hr] [center][h2]A farm outside of Jamesville, NY[/h2] [h3]18:45[/h3][/center] The dying light of the late afternoon cast gold shadows through the light green of summer leaves, leaving an imprint of tranquility over the field where Leanna toiled. Birdsong filled the air as she stood up and winced at the pops in her back and hip, but the relief came flooding in after them. She had no idea how long she had been crouched over at this point, hauling weeds out of a patch of soil soon to be planted with autumn vegetables. Long enough, at least, that her muscles, powerful enough to break a vehicle in half in her hey day with little effort, were rebelling at the abuse. Yanking off soil crusted gloves and tossing them over the bag laying a few feet away, she put one hand over her eyebrows to shield against the sun and surveyed her land. To the north, less than a few hundred yards away, was a thick copse of oak and ash, which thinned into a line going east to west and dividing her farm from her neighbour's. The trees met a stand of cottonwoods and willows to the east that ran south along the jagged edge of riverbank her land backed on to. She knew at least one family of ducks was there now, though the foxes may have chased them out by this late in the summer. To the west lay open fields for several acres, most of which were grass for her animals, before hitting the county road that ran north up to Jamesville and south to Tully. And south of her position now was the remainder of her three hundred and sixty acre farm, generously paid for by the government in return for her services to the country and the world. Situated roughly in the middle was a modest little farmhouse, grey slate roof over a single story of ivy covered walls and massive bay windows. Stretching out from almost every edge of that building was a complex, spiralling maze of vegetable gardens, flower beds, and play areas for the three dogs she was currently fostering. Slightly away from that was the barn for her two horses Applejack and Bourbon, the milk cow Fatty McGee, and the small herd of goats that kept her fallow areas mostly clear of overgrowth. Built into the side of that was the chicken coop, well armoured against the attentions of predators and with an opening that let the birds into their own enclosure inside the main structure. The southern end of her property was a mass of orchard trees and grape vines, one her neighbours were constantly telling her she should organise into rows. But she always deflected, and noted privately that her fruit trees tended to do better than any others in the area. The drive up to the house from the road was simple dirt, bordered by thick masses of roses and jasmine that fought viciously for dominion over each other. Parked on that dusty path was her motorbike and a beaten down, barely functioning and well loved old Chevy Suburban of indeterminate age and colour. She never cleaned the thing, and did all the repairs herself, which left her with a mostly jury-rigged machine that nevertheless hauled what she wanted it to. Just outside the barn was the old flat bed trailer for supply runs and a horse caravan for vet visits. [color=c71585][i]All in all,[/i][/color] she thought to herself, [color=c71585][i]This ain't such a bad life. No more getting blown up, no more death and destruction to tear through trying to find what's left of little kids. And the world has left me alone to it.[/i][/color] Her toes flexed inside the weather worn and muddy boots she wore and she stretched her arms out wide. Fingers splayed out as she breathed deep, inhaling the scents of the land: Soil and grass soaked by yesterday's rain, the cold, clear notes of the river, the blooms from the orchard and driveway drifting up on the sweet, gentle breeze that caressed her bared arms. The warmth of the sun, despite being dampened by the lateness of the hour, provided a nice counter-note to the slight chill of the breeze. She held that pose for several moments before the cell phone in her jeans pocket went off, breaking the spell. She pulled out the offending device and examined the screen with a frown before hitting the green button and putting it up to her ear, wincing slightly in anticipation of the conversation. [color=c71585]”Tim, what can I do for you?”[/color] Her voice was carefully measured. It didn't do to infuriate the already on-edge neighbour across the road. “Leanna! Thank God I got hold of you, girl!” The voice of Tim's wife, Faye, came as a surprise. They were only in their twenties, but already argued like an old, bitter couple, sometimes loud enough she could hear them from across almost a mile. Well, that could have been her imagination. But the slight panic in Faye's voice caught buried instincts in the retired heroine. [color=c71585]”What's wrong, Faye?”[/color] “Well, Tim got into his drinkin' phase again, sugar, only this time he decided to take up his grievance with the city council about that expansion to the road on the other side of us from you. I don't think he'll make it past the bar, but if you could go stop him from doin' anythin' foolish, I'd sure be appreciative. I don't need him getting' arrested just now, ya know?” Leanna certainly did. Faye was six months pregnant, and the couple were definitely in the “wife stays home” camp. [color=c71585]”Don't worry, Faye, I'll go get him back for you. How long ago did he leave?”[/color] “Oh, just now, sugar. Not even ten minutes.” [color=c71585]”Alright, sit tight, we'll be back soon.”[/color] Leanna left her bag where it was, glancing up to see the sky was clear, and ran for the truck. She might be faster on the bike, but she didn't feel like riding in buggy weather with only a filthy tank-top on. Her boots splashed through a puddle as she ran, reminding her of the driving conditions until she got into Jamesville proper. One quick stop to reach inside the door and grab her keys, and then she was heading for the truck. For not the first time, she wished she could just fly, but none of her neighbours knew about her past and revealing it for a stupid reason like one of them being drunk was not a thing she relished. [hr] [h3]An hour later, in Jamesville, NY[/h3] Leanna sat in the waiting room of the local cop shop and stared at the ceiling. Thankfully Tim had been pulled over before he had managed to hurt anyone, himself included, but his usual aggressive manner meant that the officer, one Anne Bradbury, had hauled him in instead of escorting him home like they usually did with the farmers around here. After all, the farmers were a long shot better than the students coming down from Syracuse. Leanna knew that personally, having [i]been[/i] one of those students once. But to get him out with only a warning meant using some of her credentials as an upstanding citizen and retired government official,. Even if her exact former occupation was obfuscated, it was not a comfortable conversation. She almost wished they had used her time helping the Army to give her veteran status, but that was almost certainly wrong somehow. Sitting in the hard plastic bench, Leanna let her gaze drop down and scanned the room. Jamesville was a quiet town for the most part, but there were trouble makers everywhere, she knew. At least one other guy looked destined for the drunk tank, and a pair of teenagers sullenly staring at the floor looked like shoplifters. The background hum of a television tuned to local news and the conversation of the desk sergeant and another officer bled into one another somewhat, but everything stopped when the radios in the police area all went off with the same “alert” tone at the same time. The heroine perked up suddenly, glancing towards the door once before standing and walking over to the counter. The sergeant glanced at her, and then over her shoulder at the television. His eyes narrowed slightly, business-like, and she turned to see what it was that had caught his attention. At the same time she saw the alarm system colors flash onto the screen, and the horrible tone go off from the tinny speakers, a red glow flared once in the window. Several shouts from the back alerted her to the police not knowing anything, and she raced to the window in time to see the fading line to the south. It was too far away to tell where or what, but she knew as her heart fell and stomach churned, trouble the likes of which she hadn't seen for ages was coming. The reporter's voice came up, choked with emotion, and without images, she was left only describing what little they knew. A laser of some sort had struck in three places. Texas, Pennsylvania, and Massachusets. No word from anyone in the area. The Air Force scrambling. Leanna heard on the police comms behind her that everyone was to remain on high alert, and all off-duty officers were being called in. It took half an hour, everyone in the station staring at the television, before they found out what the damage truly was. An island and a town wiped off the map, utterly gone. A smoking crater occupying much of Philadelphia, only a few hundred miles south of them. And these so called Hounds of Humanity claiming sole responsibility. Echoes of conversations with government officials rang in her ears as Leanna rushed out of the door, heedless of her surroundings. She was allowed a generous pension, in secret, due to her service in several matters. They were sad to see her go. Would she like to be on call in case something truly bad happened? Of course she would, she had answered. She was a [i]hero[/i] after all. She fumbled her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing Faye and only getting a voicemail. She briefly went over the instructions that Tim would have to be picked up, apologised, and climbed into her truck as she hung up. A decade of protecting her identity came back in a flash. [color=c71585][i]Drive quickly, and with purpose. Can't leave the car here, it would cause questions. Back to the farm, get my gear, call in. Don't act to calm, be sure to be a little panicked, everyone else is.[/i][/color] The drive back was unbearably long, even though it only took half an hour. As soon as her engine was off, she slammed the truck door open, racing for her front door as fast as she would allow herself, which even as much as she was restraining might have looked a little blurred to a normal person. The closet in her room was tossed, clothes flying everywhere, until she uncovered the old military footlocker at the bottom. She didn't bother trying to find the key for the padlock, just ripped it off and flung the lid open. Inside, sitting there just like she left it, was her old costume. She stripped down as quickly as she could, tossing muddy clothes on top of clean, and dressed as fast as her joints would allow. They creaked in complaint, but she ignored them as she tugged her arms through the sleeves. The familiar feeling of the specialised armoured spandex felt oddly comforting. She tried a few punches and kicks to make sure no tears were likely to occur, then strapped the domino mask across her face and arranged her hair so the strap was hidden. An experimental thought and her strange black energy came crackling around her fist just as fast as it used to. On her way back to the front door, thoughts raced furiously as her black leather knee high boots clacked ominously along the dark hardwood floors. Twice before now, Springheel had come to her, asking for her help against these Hounds of Humanity, but twice she had refused. It had seemed like just another hate group, one that who die off or be arrested in time without her intervention. Her doctor had also vetoed any activity, though he was sympathetic. And now? Now the guilt came welling up. What if she could have stopped these people before they had gotten this far? Or at least helped? No, those thoughts were unhelpful now. Now was the time to formulate a plan. She thought of old companions, those who might know what the metahuman response was going to be. Springheel was too flighty, and operated outside of normal channels half the time. Denier, her only other frequent visitor, was in Asia and unlikely to be able to answer right now. That left Iron Knight and Icon of the old crew she could call on. Everyone else either wouldn't answer the phone or was dead. She hauled her phone out of her belt and dialled a number she hadn't had occasion too in almost two years, and hoped her old compatriot answered quickly. [color=c0c0c0]“Hello! You have reached the voicemail of Christopher Arthur. Please leave a message after the tone and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”[/color] For a moment, there was a silent pause and an anticipation of the recording tone. However, one did not sound and instead Chris got back on the line. [color=c0c0c0]“Just kidding! Young time no see, Long. What got you to crawl out of whatever hiding place you’ve been lying low in for these past years?”[/color] [color=c71585]“H’lo, Chris. You’re just as bad as ever, I see. But now’s not really time for banter. I just saw the news, figured we’d be gearing up for a response. Do you have any idea when or where? This is one of those…”[/color] her breath caught for a second as she thought. [color=c71585]”Come out of retirement moments, you know?”[/color] [color=c0c0c0]“Doing a Jordan, I see,”[/color] Chris gave as his first response, despite Blacklight specifically telling him that the situation was dire. [color=c0c0c0]“I’m heading towards Sherman Square, where I’m hoping several other heroes will gather, assuming my message got through. Hopefully a united group of heroes can uproot these damn Hounds.”[/color] [color=c71585]”Sherman Square? In Lost Haven still, then? Alright, it’ll be a while before I can get there, but I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. These bastards are [i]not[/i] getting away with this.”[/color] [color=c0c0c0]“Since they could not even properly sideline me out with an orbital laser, I have no doubt they have no chance against the heroes of this country.”[/color] She shook her head. [color=c71585]”You’ll have to tell me about that one later. See you in a few hours, Chris.”[/color] Stepping out into the cooling night air, she let her powers build up. Rainbow streaks scattered the light around her, casting strange shadows around her in scintillating colours. From her back grew the two wing shapes of energy, each almost ten feet long. She stretched them experimentally, flapped them once and felt sure she could still fly, and then took off in a crackling roar, leaving a black trail behind her as she streaked east, towards Maine.