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The Watchtower

January 7th, 2052 | 1:39pm | Training Facility

The tension released, and a single arrow zipped through the air and impacted against the armor of a Peacekeeper. The bullets themselves impacted against the thin shield of energy protruding from Arsenal's cybernetic arm. As the Peacekeeper fell to the ground, a loud bell signaled. The ruined landscape of Star City (personally chosen by the archer himself) gave way to a starkly white room. Roy wiped the sweat from his brow, making his way idly out of the training room. The Peacekeepers were in a chipper mood, which was surprising given not a single one managed to even get a scratch on their trainer.

As he began to remove his kevlar vest, Roy heard the distinct ring of his commlink. As he checked it, the message confirmed his suspicions: the little Luthor wanted to talk. Roy quickly stripped down and hit the showers before getting back to his locker and changing into a red tracksuit. Roy kept the cybernetic arm on: he hadn't worn it in 4 months and needed to get used to the sensation of having two arms again.

It took a bit of time to get anywhere in the Watchtower. The streamlined design made traversal relatively easy, but this was a rather large establishment orbiting the Earth. The entire Justice League operated out of this facility in the end. Roy never believed Oliver's stories early on as his sidekick about the Justice League's base of operations. It was only after a brief visit while under the name "Speedy" that Roy got to see the glory that was the early Watchtower. It's only gotten more marvelous over time, Roy thought as he approached the office of Albert Luthor. He knocked on the door with his left hand, calling out, "Alright Luthor, I'm here for our little Fireside chat."

The intercom above Luthor's office door chimed, "I'll be with you in a moment Harper." A few seconds later, the door opened and out came a giant of a man. He was well over seven feet tall, with a broad muscled frame that strained the fabric of his JLU athletic shirt. Scars could be seen running across his arms, the veins in his right arm seeming to pulse with some kind of otherworldly energy. The League had inhumanly blue eyes that seemed to flicker and spark, and his hair was white as snow. He could be none other than Magog, one of the most infamous heroes of the younger generation. He smiled at Roy, reaching forward with his massive hand to grip Roy's cybernetic one, "Arsenal. Haven't seen you in a while. What brings you up here? I thought you liked it down on the ground. Came to spar?"

The younger Leaguer was known for his unorthodox, and sometimes brutal, tactics but he was quickly gaining prominence as one of the most visible of the so-called "New Breed" of heroes. He was also a known advocate for open war against both the Legion of Doom and the Shiruta Pact. As well as many other corrupt regimes and criminal syndicates. Despite his harsh methodology, he was effective and had quickly risen to a team leader.

Albert was standing in front of his desk in his office where a large bookshelf, a marble bust of Caesar, and a painting of Alexander the Great were prominently featured. Albert nodded at Roy, "May I offer you something to drink Roy?" Alfred was known for being consummately professional and nearly always having an immaculate appearance. And by no means did he appear improper. But those who knew him could see that he was more disheveled and tired than normal. It was clear he hadn't had much sleep.

Roy gave a brief nod to Albert. He knew him well enough to tell the younger member of the League was off, and given Roy's own experience with similar missions, felt he had a good idea as to why. "I may be older, but I could still kick your ass if we went all out, nerd." The usual playfulness Roy met most situations with was, of course, present in full force. But his face hardened slightly as his words began turning sour. "As for why I'm here, It's customary to visit the Watchtower from time to time as a member of the League. Especially when you're getting called back into active duty." The words oozed with bitterness... or perhaps, more accurately, pain. Roy gave a faint smile as he entered the office, closing the door behind him and striding straight towards the team leader. "You should know me well enough that you don't have to ask me for a drink, Albert. The usual: Whiskey, neat."

Magog laughed, a mischievous glint in his eye as he looked back at Arsenal, not saying anything as the door closed. Albert shook his head, "This kind of alpha male posturing is lost on me. Isn't fatherhood supposed to make you more humble?" Albert smirked as he prepared the drinks, "Especially with that one. He's strong. And doesn't have much restraint to go with it. I'd tread carefully around him. He'll want to take you up on that."

Albert finished with the drinks, getting the same as Roy, and holding the glass up, "To absent friends." He clinked the glass off of Roy's and sipped at the glass before putting it back down. Albert gestured to a nearby seat and sat on his desk, crossing his arms, "I actually wanted to talk to you about being activated. Robert and I agreed we could use you in the field. And the higher-ups signed off on it. They're forming a kind of task force. The Legion is getting bold, and it's time we started being more proactive. You're exactly the kind of Leaguer we need. After what happened in Mexico, it's clear we can't handle them with kid gloves anymore." Albert looked at Roy, "What do you say? I figured you'd like missions better than being on patrol duty."

Roy gave a slight nod as he clinked glasses with Albert. He listened intently, and once Al was finished with his speech, Roy took another sip of his whiskey. "Not all of those working for the Legion are the super villains I fought back when you were flashing your dad's money in elementary school. Some are just normal people. Those rebels in Thailand? I'm sure many wanted to make a difference for their country. So if we mobilized, we would have been killing innocents."

Roy took another sip, before looking Al directly in the eyes. "War isn't the moving of chess pieces. You are placing friends... fathers... in danger. You're playing with lives. You played with lives in Mexico. You went into an obvious trap, defied protocol, and now you've seen the consequences. If you want me on your team, you need to start thinking with your heart and your mind, not just that Luthor brain of yours."

Albert frowned, "Innocents is a stretch, Roy. But I can understand your reservations. We're not going to be dealing with revolutionaries and rebels, we'll leave that to the military-industrial complex. Our focus will be on countering the Legion's efforts to undermine the free world. And if possible, dismantle their organization and take them down before World War 3 breaks out."

Albert looked Roy back in his eyes, "I'm aware of the shortcomings of the mission. But we had to act. There was nothing else to do but go in. And if we had delayed, who knows how many more people would have died in their labs? But regardless I'm not... unaware of the toll it took. We lost good men down there." Albert drained his glass and stood, looking out the window at Earth, "Believe me when I know war is no game. You and I both saw friends and comrades fall during E-Day. The piles of dead in the streets. The children left orphaned. Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters. All gone. Believe me, I know." He looked back at Roy, "I'm willing to do what it takes to keep that from happening again, stopping the slaughter before it even starts. But it's going to be dangerous. To our lives and who we are. That's why I need you. Not only for your experience, I need a level-headed perspective. We need strength and compassion both. Or else we'll lose our way. Too many of us, like Magog, already think more like soldiers than peacekeepers."

"Help me end this war. Or everything we know could come to an end."

Roy watched Albert carefully, and then downed his whiskey. "Alright, Albert. I'm in. A special strike team sounds interesting. Send me the files of the others... and if any need training, I can provide assistance. I'll be spending most of my waking hours here anyways... my daughter is a little upset about me getting involved in the war again."

Albert nodded back, "I will. A lot of old hands will be in here. Some of them you already know. Jason Todd. Donna Troy. Raven. But we have a lot of fresher faces too." Albert started tapping at his terminal, collating the personnel files to forward to Roy, "Lian has a lot of potential. There's murmurs among the Academy faculty that she should be moved to a top class. They'll finish their education here on Astrapolis, but they can start patrol duty and other apprenticeships with full members. We have a lot of bright kids moving into this class. Impulse, Starboy, Aquagirl, and so on. Your niece Arrowette. I think she'd be a good addition to the dynamic. But only with your consent of course. If you're ok with it, I could bring it to Jefferson Pierce and he'll fast track her into the program."

Roy sighed. He knew this day would come. "It'll be Lian's choice. She will most certainly say yes. When off-duty, I would like to be recommended as an instructor for the fast-tracked students. My resume and students speak for themselves... but quite frankly, I know you and the others will do what's best for my daughter."

He gave a small smile, however, in regards to the possibility of working with some old friends. "Donna, Jason, and Raven? You're just trying to get my old band back together, aren't you Albert? We always were the best generation of heroes."

Albert smiled reassuringly, "I'm sure Pierce will ok it. He's done nothing but sing your praises as instructor at the Bay Area Academy. I'm sure she'll love being up here in Astrapolis too. But don't worry. It's going to be routine duty. Patrol duty, charity work, the kind of stuff we did when we were starting out. And they'll always be with an experienced Leaguer. She's going to excel. Make us all proud I'm sure."

At that, Albert had to smirk, "If by best you mean most dysfunctional then certainly. But you guys got stuff done, I'll have to admit. Even if you are all getting a bit on years." Albert smiled, "It'll almost be like old times. When you guys were helping me and my generation through the Titans. Except now we'll show you how it's done."

Albert stood up and gave a slight nod, meeting Roy with a handshake. "Welcome back Arsenal. Let's get to work."

The Watchtower

January 7th, 2052 | 2:35pm | Training Facility

Roy maneuvered his way through the Watchtower, eventually reorienting himself as he meandered to the Equipment Lab. During his early days as a Leaguer, he practically had lived here. The technology had quite developed by this point, to the point where it was practically unrecognizable. But a familiar figure navigating the equipment was all Roy needed to see. He called out, rather louder than anticipated. "Ahhh, Dr. Kord... it's been quite a while."

Dr. Samantha Kord, or Sam as her friends called her, turned around and smiled widely at Roy. Her brown hair was cut short, her green eyes lit with warmth as she came forward to embrace Roy in a tight hug. As Ted Kord's eldest child, she had been one of the first members in the Teen Titans. Though she had never mastered the Scarab, she was a technical genius and had helped provide the team with much of their equipment. Now she was one of the League's most prominent engineers.

Sam squeezed Roy and laughed, "Roy! It's so good to see you! It's been way too long. You never come by you jerk. And it's Sam for you. I get enough of Dr. Kord from the assistants." Sam withdrew from Roy and seemed to appraise him for a moment, "You look good Roy. Looks like all that exercise has been paying off. So, what can I do for a friend that never visits?" She grinned at Roy, the atmosphere as relaxed and simple between the two friends as if it had been a day rather than more more than a year.

Roy gave a small smile. He forgot how much he missed the energy Sam always brought to the table, especially on the old team. The two spent a lot of time together crafting various gadgets and tools. And this expertise is what the Scarlet Archer was hoping to draw on. "I'm going back into active duty, so I'm hoping to get outfitted in some more... updated equipment." He gave a flash of his bright white teeth, his signature move when he was a strapping young hero.

Sam smirked, "Ah that's it. You only like me for my gear huh? I'll let you get away with it since you're still cute somehow." Sam had been somewhat mousy when they were all teens and hadn't attracted much romantic notice from heartthrobs like Roy or Dick. But she had obviously been a late bloomer, and exuded more confidence. She gave Roy a once over, tapped her chin for a moment and said, "I think I have just the thing. I was working on some prototypes for the other Arrows but I think I could fabricate you some new toys. Step into my office."

She lead Roy deeper into the tech lab, passing by numerous other engineers who were testing out state of the art equipment for the Justice League. The JLU was on the bleeding edge of tech development and it showed. Eventually they reached a fabricator and Sam tapped away on the panel. Moments later several pieces of equipment slid out onto an attached table. Sam picked up several armor pieces and said, "This is our new lightweight ceramic with form-fitting armor weave for those of you who like to move around. It'll give you greater mobility without sacrificing mobility. It'll stand up to small arms and blades just fine and it'll self-repair given the proper time, but don't get cocky. I'll make sure to have it painted red. Just one of many different armor permutations we can make for you."

Sam smiled as she picked up what looked to be a small metallic case, "This beauty is my own design. She has a mag-attachment that will grip right onto your armor, no strap needed. But the real genius is how she works. You can store your arrows there, but this quiver can fabricate new arrows for you on the go. You can feed it raw materials in order to convert that into fab-gel, and as long as you have gel you can keep making trick arrows. It'll cut down on weight considerably while still giving you a combat edge. Though you'll need different kinds of material to make special arrows, and those schematics will be linked to your HUD. Regular old arrows can be made all day from anything though."

The engineer picked up a red visor, "Speaking of your HUD, this will help you keep track of your arrows and gel levels and also help you calculate all kinds of factors for marksmanship. Distance, wind speed, you name it. Several different vision modes as well. It'll help protect you from flashbangs or dazzler lights and you can access the JLU database and make video calls. Plus it's in your favorite color." She paused, looking Roy over briefly. "I've got more toys, but what are you thinking so far? Interested?"

Roy was absolutely beaming at the tech. More advanced than he usually worked with... granted, Roy was the kind of person who could make himself lethal to the common soldier with just a paperclip, a rubber band, and a couple pebbles. He looked Sam over with slight awe. "I need to come visit more often. This is amazing. Mobility is obviously crucial to my fighting style, and these tools are just perfect. The Arrow Family should have just hired you full time to make our toys."

Sam smirked, "Flattery will get you everywhere Harper. But since I'm awesome, this is all paid for by the JLU, no need to hire me. Though you could take me out to dinner sometime." Sam laughed and said, "Since you like that, I'll show you the other stuff." Sam crossed over to a bench and picked up a high-tech collapsible crossbow, light enough to be held in one hand.

"This can be your backup piece. It'll have a mag-holster, so you can strap it wherever you want and it comes with another fabricator quiver for bolts. You can definitely get good quickdraw shots with this. But you'll always have a few of these babies."
Sam picked up a tech bolt and loaded it into the crossbow then she aimed it at a metal target and pulled the trigger. Instead of releasing the bolt, a laser beam fired out, hitting the steel, melting through within seconds and scything the sheet in half. The bolt snapped out with a hiss and Sam said, "Pop one of those in and you have a laser gun as long as you have charge."

She pointed out a bandoleer and said, "This I had in mind for you. It will include several grenades, mines, remote explosives and what not in case your arrows don't pack the punch. You can load them right into your arm's grenade launcher if you need further range too. It also includes a fabricator, but the smaller size means they won't resupply as quickly. You have all the standard utility and survival equipment too. And I included some knives, all mono-molecular, in case you wanted to show off."

"I can start designing some alternate suits for different mission types, but this is a good all-purpose suit for most missions." Sam crossed her arms with a grin, "Even better than when we were Titans huh?"

Roy looked over the equipment, weighing it in his hands and observing it all carefully. He was clearly invested in the equipment presented. He rarely turned his eyes towards Sam, instead focusing in on the intricacies. Very few things actually surprised or captured the attention of Arsenal, and yet somehow this tech managed to do just that. He even wore the bandoleer to get a feel for its weight, and fabricated a mono-molecular knife. He tossed it into the air and caught it, twirled it around his fingers and hand, before setting it down on the table. He was like a kid in a candy shop. So it took a moment for the older man to respond.

When Roy did respond, he looked Sam in the eyes and gave a genuine smile. His eyes lit up, and his smile turned into his typical smirk. "I owe you a lot more than dinner for this, Sam. It's all absolutely... remarkable. It fits perfectly, and will make me a force to be reckoned with on assignment. New tech, older man." He gave a small chuckle before removing the bandoleer and setting it down. "To talk business, I'm looking for a more subtle version of the suit. An infiltrator version, if you will. On the other hand... keep in mind designs for extreme environment versions." A small beeping came from Roy's watch. With a quick tap on the small interface, a notification flashed and the Scarlet Archer sighed. "Shit, almost forgot about conferences..." Roy looked up at Sam and gave an apologetic smile. "I'll message you ideas later, but we seriously need to catch up sometime." In a bold move, the once-suave archer gave Sam a quick hug followed by a quick, playful peck on the cheek. In an even bolder move, he immediately began dashing away with a quick wave of his cybernetic arm before Sam could even process what had just happened.

Star City, California

January 8th, 2052 | 5:15pm | Roy's Study

Roy leaned back at his desk, rubbing his temples. He was finishing up a pile of work that had accumulated in the past week for his day job as a member of the Board for his father's company. It was work that bored the adventurous Arsenal, but Roy Harper needed to earn his keep at the Queen Mansion. Oliver and the others were still out due to the funeral, and Oliver took Lian to visit some of his old friends and spend time in Metropolis for the night. Decades prior, it would have been dangerous to leave Speedy alone to his own devices in such a decadent mansion. Times had changed since then.

On his desk were files upon files of papers, Roy's attempt to get around digital eye strain by shifting to paper documents from time to time. The one in front of him at the moment, however, was a JLU file. A certain cybernetics genius who had recently been brought into the fold, and a candidate for Percy's secret task force. A curious candidate given the shotgun JLU status, but someone who could had great potential.

What was more interesting for Roy Harper, however, was the good doctor's former works. So Roy began to tap away on a tablet lying on his desk, preparing a message for Dr. Albrecht.

Collab with @MrDidact, Interaction with @Freeshooter92
I would really like to join a Marvel rp like this one. But am I right that the posting have slowed down significantly. Would you say it's still fairly active?

It's slowed down a bit but the Discord is really active. Most of us have gotten a little busy to post quickly, and we've been talking about how to progress the campaign.

Yujiro Residence, Kurosuoba
April 3rd, 2018 | 5:45 AM

The blaring alarm quickly jolted Yujiro awake, the teenage boy's dull eyes rising to the plain ceiling of his small room. He was lucky to have his own room, giving his living situation. But his mother insisted the growing boy have a space to himself within the home. Not that Yujiro ever really used it. The room was sparse, with a mat on the ground for sleeping in the corner. Next to it was a small digital clock. The walls were littered with pictures, mostly ones the teenager took himself. The others... they were photos taken by his father. They were far more professional, the lighting and composition a sign of years more experience. Yujiro showed promise in his photography, but he still had a ways to go.

Half of the room was sectioned off with a curtain. Behind it was a makeshift darkroom, but Yujiro didn't have much time to check on a couple pictures he developed the night before. For now, he had to a routine to follow. To start, Yujiro made his way to the kitchen. He decided to stick with something simple for this morning. He was a whir in the kitchen. Within a a half hour, he managed to prepare breakfast for three and prepared his own lunch. Once his Bento had been packed up in a simple box and wrapped in a simple gray cloth, the others in the house began to stir. Yujiro quickly wolfed down his Natto, fried egg, and rice.

While his parents ate, Yujiro didn't speak a word to them. Instead, he got dressed into his new uniform. He filled it in nicely, if tall and lanky are the ideal of attractiveness. But as the aspiring photographer looked in the mirror, he found himself scowling. His face wasn't particularly welcoming. It would be a matter of time before that and his poor attitude got him into trouble. Regardless, Yujiro fetched his pack and stuffed his camera into it. With a brief nod, Yujiro gave a small wave to his mother and father. Before they could say a word, he was out the door and down the street. He wasn't much in a talking mood when at home. So Yujiro made his way to school with little fanfare, just like any other day in his life.

Wayward House --- La Vida

Roy sat up, grunting as he reached for his leg. It has been pulled together well... but the pain always lingered. He swung his legs over the edge, seeming to be surprisingly stable for someone who lost so much blood. He gave a weak smile to the few around before lowering his feet to the ground and standing. He slowly moved to walk around the space, looking around as he reached for his hat to tighten it down onto his head. It was becoming increasingly clear that the place they were was advanced. And closer inspection led to a more startling discovery: It was Queen tech. With a quick scan of the faces of others, Roy's eyes widened with a small bit of recognition. Before getting kicked out, Roy had access to all Queen tech files. And given his shares in the company, Roy managed to convince a certain IT individual to keep his credentials active and hidden from Oliver.

But Roy's eyes returned to their normal state. He gave a small smile to everyone in the room as he leaned against the wall, his shoulder pressing against it. "So, vigilante wannabe heroes? Clearly powered... none of you look particularly trained to use batarangs or arrows."

Los Angeles

Roy's eyes fluttered open moments after the stitching had finished. He looked pale and weak, but flashed a small grin as his eyes closed in response to the bright lights, wincing slightly from both the pain of his wound and the pain the lights provided. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes from the harmful beams, stretching his back and shoulders just slightly as he repositioned himself on the bed. "You owe me for saving you from those fuckers, kid." Roy spent only a moment longer gaining up the strength to sit up and open his eyes, examining those in the room with him. A girl, a woman, and a boy... but obviously Roy's eyes immediately locked onto the dogs. He gave a small smile and held his hand out towards them. "Hey little buds... didn't know y'all brought in therapy dogs for patients..." His demeanor changes almost on a dime, as he looked to examine the room. "You didn't bring me to a fucking hospital, did you?"
I'm a little busy this semester (Taking classes on film production and special effects), but I think I can squeeze in a character. Considering Camera Op, but might shoot for a more under-appreciated role in the film (Artistic Director, Key Grip, Gaffer, etc.).

He didn’t have the time for his usual pleasantries. Alistar produced the aspirin he needed. He’d been up for well over 24 hours at this point, and was exceptionally tired. He’d been up for 48, even 72 hours before on assignments… but there was just something about tonight and the monotony of it all. The pill helped with the headache. He felt a surge of energy as he got into his van, James getting into the passenger seat. It was a quiet drive back to New York. He didn’t speak much to his new passenger, not bothering to reveal anything about his former life nor his more recent escapades. He was instead preparing the briefing in his head. He had a lot of uncertain questions that still needed to be answered. He supposed he’d get most of them tonight.

He pulled into the same parking garage as before, getting out and bringing with him only a single case. He wanted to make sure he had enough comms for everyone, because they would certainly need them. His half-demon friend would be able to take care of most everyone else’s needs. Nonetheless, Sling got in the elevator with James and went down to the base. It’s sheer grandeur was impressive, but the vigilante didn’t really care. He went to set up his equipment.

Jackson Hurley let the others take in what the base had to offer while he made his way to the lounge, setting up the equipment he needed. He connected his laptop to the monitor. One thing he managed to learn in SHIELD: how to make a good powerpoint. Within minutes he had it finished up with the information he had. He didn’t know quite everyone, but he knew enough.

Once finished, he gathered everyone back into the lounge. It was important to get everything sorted as quickly as possible. He had a new identity to forge, plane tickets to purchase, and a homicidal maniac to catch. Just another day as an international man of mystery. Nonetheless, Jackson gave a small nod to everyone as he began.

“Keep all questions until the end. My name is Jackson Hurley, formerly United States Navy SEAL, former Agent of SHIELD. I’m not going to insult your intelligence and explain who they are. Most of you have heard about them, if not all of you. To be clear, I’m no longer tied to that organization, and do not have the current intention to report to them. Which means everything we have done and will be doing is off the books.

“I’m not looking to lead you lot into any sort of war, but I am giving you the option to do something right. It’s come to my attention HYDRA is operating in New York at the moment, and God knows where else. I have a location, which I will send all of you to begin doing some digging if you to get yourselves involved. But, as I keep specifying, you’re not a SHIELD strike force, you’re not special agents. For the most part, we’re all narcissistic assholes with special powers or abilities that like beating the shit out of people who deserve it. And oh boy, do these fuckers deserve it.”

Jackson sighed as he tapped a button on his laptop. The TV behind him showed gruesome images: the burnt corpses of children in cages, a drug manufacturing plant with chained women working the line, a warlord seemingly in Africa sitting upon a throne crafted entirely of skulls and bones. “I’m still trying to piece together what it is they’ve been up to, and where they have their connections. But they’ve begun to make things personal. And right now, I’m pretty confident all of you are in the crossfire. You could easily run away, or hide in your fancy underground bases… but with the literal firepower we have in this room we could bring them to their fucking knees…”

A moment passed by as Jackson hesitated continuing. He wasn’t entirely sure the impact this next segment would have on the group dynamic… but ultimately, it didn’t matter much to him. “I will not be able to aid you for some time. I have to catch a devil… not the literal devil, mind you.” He gave a glance over towards Alistar. “So, it’ll be up to you lot. But you should probably know who each other are…”

On screen, Alistar’s face appeared. Next to it, a scrolling list far too long and scrolling far too fast to properly read. Accompanying pictures helped show an individual roughly matching Alistar’s appearance throughout several historical events and periods. “Alistar, a half-demon with a checkered past. To some, a creation of pure evil. To those of us at SHIELD, someone willing to do what it takes to make sure the right thing gets accomplished.”

Next on screen was Draku. “Despite looking like he just walked out of an anime convention, Draku is a powerful individual, perhaps too powerful for his own good. Considered a serious threat by the higher-ups in SHIELD, but have been afraid messing with him would cause serious collateral damage.”

He gave a quick look to those who were remaining. He wasn’t entirely sure Joc’s friend was, but given the lot that he was in this room with, he had to be powerful. Next on the screen was Jocelyn. “Jocelyn Beatrix Victoria Harmon, though seems to have a fondness for the alias Tonic, to my understanding. One hand gives, the other takes. It’s a shame what they did to you at Weapon X, but glad you didn’t go feral like another one of the experiments.” Another flash on screen showed her face from earlier in the night, when attempting to escape the bar. “Though, currently wanted for questing in regards to the killing of multiple armed police officers and the robbing of a local bar in New York City. Considered armed and dangerous, believed to be working with a ring of criminals, and legal experts are speculating the DA will push for the death penalty when he gets to his office tomorrow morning. If she’s caught, that is.”

Jackson tapped his laptop, and James’ picture came up. “Not entirely sure about you, mate. Name’s James Walker, former police trainee in NYC. Not entirely sure why you’re wrapped up in all this, but you stole a helicopter and something tells me it wasn’t on the ground when you did it.”

Jackson then gave a small sigh, his finger drumming impatiently on the laptop as the final picture came on screen. Well… blurry pictures. Gruesome scenes. Assassinations of powerful politicians and individuals of immense wealth and weight. All showing a shadowy figure being present, but never a clear picture. “And lastly… our dear friend Ava. An assassin from Russia, nicknamed “The Black Frost” in your native tongue. Most of your files have been scrubbed clean, couldn’t even get a facial ID on you… oh, and of course. Hydra agent with a burn notice sent by the fucking Winter Soldier himself.

“So even though I said I was going to take questions, I’m pretty sure we all have a few for you.”
I figure new thread so you have full control over it.
I might be available later on if you try to start this up later, but who knows. Life gets crazy but I'll keep an eye on this to see what happens and join in if I can.
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