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#1 Posted by Hank_Galloway (115 posts) - - Show Bio

United States, 1943

BOOM!

The windows blew apart, spitting shards of glass to the streets below. People gasped and despite being instructed to stay away from the five alarm fire, they were so fascinated by the silhouettes quickly moving in the burning building.

“How many are in there?!” shouted the fire chief to a fireman, his face black from the ashes and lines of sweat dripping down his face.

“Two.”

“Just two?!”

“Don’t worry chief, it’s Overman and Nightwatch.”

At that moment, another explosion occurred, “How many people are trapped?!”

“They said one.”

Immediately bursting out of the top floor, a black figure descended toward the ground, carrying someone in his arms, a child. The figure twisted mid-air, his back facing the ground, immediately a cable was shot out, grappling concrete, allowing the figure to scale down the walls.

The people cheered at the figure, and cheered even louder when a flying figure ripped the nearby hydrant, redirecting the high pressure water toward the building, effectively putting out the fire.

“Thank you Nightwatch,” the chief said as he took from his arms a little boy covered in soot.

“Not a problem chief,” the Man of the Night smiled, his pearly white teeth contrasted his ash covered skin around his mouth. “Overman and I are glad to have made it in time.” He dusted himself off as an owl descended upon his shoulder, gripping it’s nails into his skin.

“It’s Baxter!” The children gleefully shouted at the sight of the great horned owl.

“If it wasn’t for Baxter letting us know, we probably wouldn’t have been here kids.” Overman said as he descended towards the crowd and landed in front of Nightwatch, his uniform perfectly clean and blue in contrast to his companion’s dust covered green and red suit.

The press soon arrived and flashes of lights bombarded the heroes. Nightwatch soon stood next to Overman, both smiling as they shook hands with the police chief. Everyone cheered for the two members of the Justice Alliance. The children soon were sad to see their heroes leave the area, both in their separate directions.

Undisclosed Location

“I’m glad you took you sweet time John!” Hank shouted as he lifted his mask off, half in face covered in soot. He proceeded to wash his face in the sink of the locker room.

“Shut up Hank, we did our job.” Overman began to neatly fold his uniform

“Just because you come in at the last five minutes, put out the fire, doesn’t mean ‘we’ did ‘our’ job. Would it kill you to get your suit dirty? You have about thirty of them? And get the stupid owl off my shoulder!”

Overman chuckled as he whistled Baxter to get off of his shoulder, “It’s not my fault you don’t have powers Hank. Besides, you know it’s better if a JA member helps his ‘friend’ in a time of need, and the fact I can get there pretty quick too.”

Hank began to rip his uniform off and tossed it at Baxter, causing the bird to fly away.

“Hey! Don’t do that to Baxter! You know the kids love him!”

Nightwatch glared at John, “You know I hate birds… I don’t know who set up that stupid prank, but I’ll find out soon.”

“Of course you will Mr. Holmes.” Overman laughed as he slammed the door of his locker, walking away to report on his next assignment. Hank showered and reported to the office of DMA director Franklin Hawthorne.

“Hank.” The director said as he gestured the JA member to the seat in front of him. He smoked his cigar as he was looking through various files at his desk. “Excellent job as usual Nightwatch, it’s for the good of the American People.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is why we need you back in Germany.”

“Another public mission? Evacuation?”

“No. This one will be classified. We have reason to believe the Nazis are close to creating their perfect super. As you’ve known they’ve made their attempts in the past….” The director took another puff of his cigar, “with great cost… but now we need to shut them down and take the intel. We don’t believe they’ve created one yet, but regardless we need the Justice Alliance to intervene.”

“Not a problem Frank,” Hank shifted in his chair anxious to see who will be part of the mission. The director sensed his uneasiness.

“Hank, you will take Apex, Ms. Nova-“

“Oh God, Frank. Really? Apex and Nova? Did you not hear what happened to us last year in France?”

“They’re soldiers Hank. We’re in war. They have the needed abilities to complete this mission. You will also take Red Masque and Sabreur.”

The JA member had a sigh of relief, “Okay, I’m happy to work with Emil. But can I take Bolt instead of Sabreur? I don’t want to work with that criminal and she’s perfectly-“

“The Sabreur has reformed and Bolt will be needed on a separate mission with Overman and Destructor.”

The man known as Nightwatch shook his head, “Fine, he said reluctantly.”

“You will go to these coordinates, there’s a lab hidden miles away from the main facilities. Our spies tell us the information is there.”

“Not a problem.”

“I’ve sent the word for the squad, you will meet them at the hangar.”

“Great,” Hank said rather sarcastically as he got up and took the file off the table to read, “well ain’t this gonna be a kick in the head?”

“And Hank… remember… only the intel. It’s for the good of the people.”

“Yes sir.”

Time to Go

Nightwatch waited in the hangar for his teammates to arrive. The moment he did, he gave one of his pre-mission speeches as squad leader.

“As the director probably told you, we have been selected for a classified mission. As your squad leader for this mission I will remind you that we will follow the orders of the Department of Metahuman Affairs to the letter. In this mission we will only collect intel. If force is necessary, and it will most likely be necessary, we must be swift and take them out. We work as a team, we get in, we get out. The sooner the better, I honestly don’t want a headache on this mission, there’s not enough aspirin to go around. Let’s go.”

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#2 Edited by Apex_Predator87 (77 posts) - - Show Bio

@hank_galloway:@nightwarden17@ms_nova@feral_nova@killer_instinct

Washington DC...

No Caption Provided

Apex hangs up the phone after just talking to a certain Director. Mary sigh's, not looking forward to working with certain members of the Justice Alliance. She gets along fine with Sabreur, as she is in a relationship with the man. Well, whenever they can find a private moment between them at any rate. She doesn't let the relationship interfere with the team.

As Apex's mind goes back to last year's mission in France, she has to give another heavy sigh. Before that mission, she liked Hank. From her own perspective, they even got along, at least at first. Perhaps Hank saw it the same way too. Either way, ever since France last year, the two have been on icy footing with one another ever since.

Apex is a relative late addition to the Justice Alliance, having joined in 1940, just three short years ago so she hasn't been a member of the team for a good number of years that they have been active. But for better or for worse, she's already made her mark on the team.

Apex suits up in her red, blue and white costume, strapping her shield onto her back before she takes off for the hangar where she is supposed to meet her team. If she leaves now, she'll be right on time.

In The Hangar...

Apex arrives in good time on her blue, red and white motorcycle. If anything, she's punctual and hates being late...for anything. Of course, she wouldn't have minded at all to be late for this. If and when the rest of the team arrives, Apex greets all of them regardless if she likes them or not. Then she listens to one of Hank's pre-mission speeches that he gives before every mission. Once the brief speech was done, she follows Hank on the plane, strapping herself in and not saying a word to him. She sets her shield in between her legs since it's too big for the seat belts to cover her while her shield is strapped to her back.

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#3 Posted by NightWarden17 (843 posts) - - Show Bio

@hank_galloway:@apex_predator87@ms_nova@feral_nova@killer_instinct

Jacob arrived without delay, his board of directors would take over for him while he was away.

His company was currently working on an aeronautics project, the "flying wing" for the Air Force, lightyears ahead of its time, it also would secretly aid in the more high-flying adventures of his crusade against crime.

He had been installed in the group by the government since its formation to, as the PR spinsters put it, "show the wonders of the criminal reform system and how it can turn any downtrodden fellow into the worthiest of men."

While that phrasing was a bit too ostentatious for his liking and he disliked being a poster boy for their justice system which still had plenty of cracks, he did believe in serving the public justly, and he had cast away the selfishness and survival of the fittest mentality he had during The Great Depression.

From the ashes of that bleak and somber period, he had learned as much as bullets sent quick and clean make for good pay, affluence used to preserve lives and help the less fortunate was a far cleaner route.

After being wounded in France, the government turned him into a super soldier, and he became even more astounding,"The fabulous fencer of freedom, the epee expert, the fleet-footed funambulist", the newsreels said.

This period sure did love its hyperbole, alliteration, and sensationalism, that was for sure.

As much as he felt Overman was a naive boy scout, NightWatch was too easily incensed, Ms. Nova was using her powers as mere parlor tricks rather than utilizing them properly, and that Red Masque was too extreme even for him, he put aside his misgivings for the American people.

Or at least, that's what he told himself.

Apex was certainly more than a bonus to these wetworks though.

He got on fine with the others, it was amicable at the very slightest, but with her, it was a whole other level.

Before they took off, he said, "I know there are those who quite frankly, think I'm just a slimeball in a mask, but I assure you, that was ages ago.

Honestly, as much as we might not agree on matters, part of me has to admit, many of you, as much as I disagree with your beliefs, inspired me to take up a mask in the first place.

Besides wanting redemption, you all are why I negotiated a deal with the President to be on this team in the beginning.

Superheroes have grown beyond fads like zoot-suiting or sock-hops, we can show the people to be better, something more.

This goes beyond the caterwauling of party lines, the scrabbling of Washington, or the ideological battles we have mission after mission, we can show them a brighter way.

Enough of my windbagging, I just thought I'd give a reminder.

We might bicker sure, but at the end of the day, we're all searching for our own version of the American Dream."

With that, he strapped himself in as he got on the plane, and waited for takeoff.

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#4 Posted by Ms_Nova (10 posts) - - Show Bio

New York City

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“Ms. Nova! Ms. Nova!” The kids chanted as Patty was suited up and busy making her yearly visit to one of the many elementary schools in Good Old America. She hated kids, they were like little selfish, sticky, boogers who only wanted one thing from her. Cookies and popcorn. That was her thing. Come to school and make popcorn and bake cookies in front of all the kids while talking about how Nazi’s are bad and USA was good and to help out their mom’s while dad was away on deployment with a little song, dance and cookies and popcorn for everyone. She didn’t do this because she wanted to, it was something that the JAoA put her up to. Being someone with active, visual powers like hers attracted a lot of attention, wanted or not, and with her bombshell blonde hair and big blue eyes, she was not just loved by children but by the soldiers too, especially with a name like Ms. Nova. She was a prime candidate for public speaking. It paid the bills, but she still hated it. “Don’t forget kids, don’t drip! Be swell to your mom’s while your dad’s and big brothers are out there saving the world from Nazi’s! But most impotently... ” She raised her hands up and pointed to the kids as they all shouted out her catchphrase, something that all Feral Nova's down the line have used.

"Be the light in the time of darkness!" The children cheered and screamed in excitement with their faces covered in cookie crumbs and popcorn stuck in between their teeth. Blowing them a kiss she walked off the stage as someone in the all too familiar black suit stood waiting for her.

“Please tell me you’re here to take me home. I’m having a nicotine fit and I need some Old Crow before going to bed.”

“Director Hawthorne needs to speak to you, it's urgent.”

We… ain’t this a kick in the head…”

The Hanger

As usual, Patty was late. She was always late, and always either smelled like cookies and popcorn or cigarettes and alcohol, there was never really an in between. For now, it was the cookies and popcorn. With her normal red hair snood that she always wore before every mission. She didn’t want to get her hair all bonkers before going off the save the world. There was a time Patty was excited and proud to be in this team and even got along with everyone. But now it just... felt like any job, especially since they had her doing more PR work than actual mission and the other members? She had a hard time being in the same room with them for too long.

She sat, listening to Nightwatch give his usual pre-mission talk as he always did before every mission. He was such a drip. They all were. But then Sabreur began flapping his lips. Ugh, who let this Knucklehead join the team? “Need more than an aspirin after listening to that.” She mumbled to herself, rolling her eyes, as she pulled out her hip flask from seemingly nowhere, twisting the top off and taking a swig of her Old Crow before slipping it back in it’s hiding place.

This was going to be a dang long mission.

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#5 Posted by Killer_Instinct (1512 posts) - - Show Bio

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A simple cigar from New York City. Imported tobacco, Mediterranean in origin. Benny Carter and his lads playing 'Nightfall' on the radio. Emil Austerwitz sat in the briefing room, or at least one of them. This one had a window, looking out into the wilderness. He could run out there, never be seen again. Just get away from all of this - all of them. But that would accomplish little. The American saxophonist gently cradled the notes in his hands, and let them drift off into static.

Emil stood at length, his long legs dictating that he should go now. The plane was waiting for him after all. No need to be tardy. The cigar felt rigid in his mouth, clamped between his teeth. Like those American generals chomping on tobacco and barking orders across the Lake. He found a subtle laugh inside of his diaphragm, though it meant nothing. The warm smoke filled his lungs and he found that comfort enough. Each footfall of his echoed into the dark corners of the hallways leading down into the hangar. He had hidden himself behind one of his famous masks, the quality unmatched and lifelike. Anyone other than those immediately involved with him donning the costume would have no idea who he was until he introduced himself.

Even more than the smoke, more than the warmth, he could cement that small notion of privacy among his favorite things. To hide in plain sight, away from prying eyes. His false lips quivered as he formed a modicum of a smile. The hangar was just now emptying of the last of their ilk, the living banners of pride and self-serving justice. They were accomplices to each other, at least. Kept each other in line. Emil one of them - perhaps the most untrustworthy to some. He served Germany before, during the Great War. Some would call him a liar, and a cheat. Others would accuse him of being a double-agent. All accusations to come in due time, however, would fall flat on his conscious.

He knew what he was doing. That was enough. He would take up the quiet role of a security officer on the plane, just to see how well-equipped those he would serve alongside with truly were. Besides, he doubted anyone would want to look at what he was under the mask for too long. Standing near to the back, he simply sat down before the plane started to take off. His mustache flexed - a spasm from the spent cigar. He extinguished it into the palm of his hand, the extent of the disguise becoming so realistic that burn marks actively formed on the fake flesh and skin. Soon he would light another such smoking implement, already wanting the journey into the war-zone of Europe to be over. He simply wasn't at home in such a confined place, with nowhere to go.