In Bludhaven

[lesliethompkins.livejournal.com]

Seems to be her week for house calls. Leslie doesn't mind the trip though. It's not often she makes it to Bludhaven. It'll be good to see the family. She just wishes the visit was under better circumstances. Griping her medical bag in one hand and a small bag of groceries in the other, she heads into the familiar building.

(no subject)

[http://users.livejournal.com/_hawkgirl_/]

It's been a while since she's really sat down to do this, but considering the recent events, it's kinda necessary.

She's trying to gather all her impressions into one long written journal-type entry. Impressions of the time spent in the Anti-Matter universe, brief though it was. A journal type entry that she can forward to Michael or Sandy. To go forever in the JSA files, so that future Society members would know what to expect if that particular situation popped up again.

It's... difficult.

What makes it so is the thought that, even though they did not meet (thank god), there's a twisted, corrupt, downright evil Kendra Saunders over there. It's something that makes her stomach tie in lovely little knots.

Or something worse. Worse than corrupt twisted evil nasty bad naughty Kendra.

A Kendra who succeeded in her suicide attempt... and did not have the soul of her great-aunt as a safety net to bring her back.

Damn.

She steps away from her computer and rests her forehead against her chilled bedroom window, looking out over the city of St. Roch at night. The lights of the city twinkling at her, winking, as if to say, "C'mon, you know what you want to do. C'mon. Fly. Fly out over us and watch over us and say hello to us from a quarter of a mile up."

There's the perk. The reason she doesn't give the superhero gig up. The thought of life without her wings is now an impossible one.

A glance to her computer. She really should finish this report. She's been procrastinating. Michael would scowl at her.

...

The wings are out of her closet and she's heading for the roof before she can talk herself out of it.

It's a good night for flying.

Presenting ... The All-Star Squadron!

[jla-extras.livejournal.com]

As the chatter dies down, Liberty Belle takes the podium. Even after a couple years of doing this, her breath always catches when she looks out at this assemblage.

"All right, everybody," she says, casting a glance absently at Johnny Quick. "Settle down. According to Black Canary and the JSA. we have a serious problem on our hands. Bulletman, a mystery man from Fawcett City, has been beaten to an inch of his life by Capt. Nazi, who seems to be active on U.S. soil. And to make matters worse, Zatarra's old enemy, The Wizard, stopped Capt. Nazi from finishing the job, and warned us that ... and I'm quoting here ... 'Hell is coming to America.'"

She looks around at their faces ... confusion, concern, uncertainty --- all of that, yes. But also determination, courage. Not a one of them is shaken by this news.

"So the question is," she says. "What do we do?"