The Watchtower

[Sir Les Paul]

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The United Justice League Watchtower (dubbed The Watchtower) is the headquarters of the Justice League of America. The Watchtower was constructed of promethium and used highly advanced Martian, Thanagarian, Kryptonian, and Earth technology. The arrival of Orion and Big Barda added the technology of New Genesis and Apokolipsto the systems within. In all technicality, the Watchtower as it is now is known as the Justice League Satellite II. The dissolution of the Justice League caused significant tensions regarding the satellite, including the several others floating around it. An agreement between the United Nations and Black Beetle resulted in the surrounding satellites being allowed to monitor the central station while it remained under his control. With the founding of the United Justice League, the Watchtower was placed under the control of Joseph Waller, III with the grace of Black Beetle and now acts as the new base of operations of the United League of Justice.

Contents​ 1. History 1.1 Pre-Alcatraz​ 1.2 Post-Alcatraz​ 2. Geography​ 3. Places of Interest 3.2 Zeta-Beam Master Station​

The Watchtower
Owner Sir Les Paul
Wiki Link #1 Wiki Link #2​
Theme Song

History
Pre-Alcatraz
The Watchtower has been an icon of the Justice League for decades, second only to the now-defunct Hall of Justice. History shows the satellite has been destroyed completely at least once and rebuilt twice. It has also underwent massive expansions and upgrades in its time. Many consider the Watchtower one of the greatest amalgamations of intergalactic technology and in fact is a highly-prized station. The second Watchtower was built by some of the greatest minds in the universe with security in mind. Batman played a large role in these endeavors. Ultimately, his hand in its creation lead to the acceptance that it was his; not just in ownership, but his final defense against threats both terrestrial and otherwise.

While politics have played a large game with the Watchtower, it ultimately is endorsed by the United Nations. However, that noted, the Bat family notoriously has a large sway over what happens with the station; it has been assumed that for its proper use, their permission or 'blessing' was essentially required.

While the Hall of Justice was the base of operations for the League for most of its lifespan, the advent of Zeta-Beams pushed the Watchtower further and further, so much that continuous additions were made to assure it was up to date with the latest bleeding edge advancements that it was often still well-ahead of most terrestrial technology. The Watchtower officially became the base of operations for the League in 2042 when their funding and support began dwindling to the degree they had to choose which to properly fund.

The Watchtower has a long and extensive history within the League beyond what has been detailed here.

Post-Alcatraz
After the dissolution of the Justice League, the Watchtower was effectively put into safe mode and shut down, only ran by the bare minimum crew set by the United Nations under the advisory of Tim Drake--the leading, living expert on the station. It remained in this condition until February of 2059 when the United Nations reluctantly approved revitalizing the League under Joseph Waller, III. With the cooperation of Black Beetle and Tim Drake, the Watchtower was quickly brought back to full function and staffed with approved employees by the United Nations.


Geography
Yeah... I'll get right on that.


Places of Interest
Zeta-Beam Master Station
While all Zeta-Beams can act as network points for other Zeta-Portals or destinations, the Master Station is the only one with a closed security network on all terrestrial Zeta-Transits. Every Zeta-Beam transfer is monitored closely and each portal is specifically chosen for this purpose--with the exclusion of Gotham. The Master Station is also capable of the largest scale Zeta-Transfers currently available. The Master Station can also designate specific locations for Zeta-Portals, alleviating the need for anyone with a League Badge to actually operate a terminal. Lastly, as just alluded to, the Master Station is responsible for security protocol with League Badges; using a dermal DNA sampling system, the Master Station can have automatic presets for certain members, reject an individual from using the portal even if entered and detect intruders or stolen badges.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"Diana sent you?" Thrall replied. His tone was inquisitive. Almost as if he did not believe her.


Thrall was everything she was told he would but, yet nothing like what he expected. He had the atmosphere that Diana wore like the tiara on her head; one of majesty and control. Yet, he was far less than what one might imagine for a warrior. While he was far from skin and bones, he had hardly the muscle one might expect from a warrior. In fact, the muscle mass he did have had little tone. His jawline wasn't as rugged as some others. His facial hair was light and thin. There were women on Themyscira with more masculine traits than him. Thrall was made out to be a prodigal warrior that could duel Diana - a feat no Amazonian could accomplish. At least, if she was fighting at her full strength. At first sight alone, it was hard to believe the man in front of her could even compare to Diana. 


It was in speaking to him that there was a difference. He called Diana by her name, and he spoke of her respectfully yet closely. Even some Amazons - even some of her sisters - still dared not speak in such a manner. Furthermore, his voice was of disbelief. A man questioned her - of all things. The last man to honestly speak to her was her own son, and the words he shot off cut like a knife. Now, the next one, put her very word into question. On Themyscira, there was no time for games or deception unless they were practicing that act intentionally. His disbelief was almost as much of a waste of time as it was an insult.

"Waller notified me you would be here. Just getting this far means he had to approve you, and he isn't wrong often," Thrall added in a half-moment later. His tone still demanded some odd authority despite the circumstance. "Yet I find it hard to believe she allowed another to leave. Especially under the Grace of the Gods. Even she sends me to avoid toiling in the World of Man," he explained. Now it was clear what he was doing. He was scouring for answers. It was clear: Diana hadn't informed him at all about her. Much to her word, she did not divulge why Scyleia left Themyscira in the first place nor why she was returning. While there was a fair sense of security knowing there was truth in her word, there also existed the stern and oddly lean man in front of her quizzing her for information.


@Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

"The Princess permitted me."


Scyleia's tone was polite, if not her choice of words.  This was Thrall's world after all, far more than it was hers.  But if his choice of address lacked proper deference to the Princess Diana, hers did not.  


The Amazon was plainly identified by her dress.  She wore golden armor with red linen backing with a magnificent azure cloak clasped around her neck.  It left a fair amount of her skin bare, particularly the arms and legs, and that fact coupled with the color scheme was as good for identification as a uniform.  She was also tall, and the gaps in the gold armor revealed fit, solid arms and legs that spoke of her obvious athleticism.  And then there were the Bracelets of Submission, of course, with a matching set of Chains of Servitude accompanying them.


"Did you expect the Hand of Justice to make a mistake?  Or the Heir to Themyscira?  I understand you've dwelt among my sisters for a time.  Surely you know us.  Please consider me a woman of honor, as I consider you a...man of honor."  She inclines her head slightly, a gesture of respect, if not of subservience.  "At least until I give you reason to think otherwise."


"So this is the Watchtower."  Scyleia tilts her head as she takes in her surroundings before focusing once more on the champion before her.  "This is where the Princess has spent so much of her time when she was away from us.  It's impressive."  Her words are cordial but without much warmth.  This place doesn't suit a woman accustomed to beaches and jungles and open blue skies.


At last, she takes a step forward and extend a hand in the traditional handshake.  Not much of a custom among Amazonians but one known to her apparently.  "I'm Scyleia.  And I've come to give your cause my aid, if you'll have me."


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"The Princess," Thrall replied after a brief air of silence, "never liked being called the Princess."

In that one line, he combated what felt to him like the Amazonian pride manifesting in verbal defiance hidden by a mask of etiquette. Thrall trained with Diana for three continuous years before coming back to the League. While every Amazon knew of Diana, few of them knew her. Three years to thousands didn't matter, either; the quality and recency of the time he spent with her was far greater than most. Many on the island called Thrall her 'pet'; and, if any of them dared to truly speak defiantly of her, they would have made plenty of insinuations as to how much of a pet she was. On Themyscira, however, there was too much respect for that and too much adulation for Diana herself. Thrall, however, was an outsider.

"I can show you where Diana truly spent most of her time," Thrall continued. He was replying now to her awe of the Tower. Honestly, it was different than anything on Themyscira. At a time, the island-nation had some of the most amazing architecture in the world and while it was still perfect and pristine, it was dwarfed in that of size and intricacy of that of the tower. "Come with me," Thrall instructed in likely the most polite tone he muttered since she arrived. He turned his back to her and began to walk down one of the halls the node they were in branched off to. As he walked, she could see the same temperance in his footstep one might expect from someone that had it beat into them on her home island. The same pace. The same stoic majesty. It was just odd without the hips of a woman to bear it.


"Scyleia," Thrall said, addressing her directly. "Do you know of my mother?" he asked her plainly. Of every question he could have asked her, this one was relatively personal. He was introduced on the island as Thrall, specifically the Thrall of Themyscira. A man so desperate and willing to learn from them that he bore the Chains of Servitude to do so. It didn't seem like much, but the Chains represented one of the most hated ideas on all of the island: slavery. They were entirely different from the bracelets of submission; reminders of their adherence to the Gods. These chains bound him to a mortal: Diana. That was far, far different than serving the Gods. Aside from those facts, however, no one on the island knew much about Thrall nor thought much of him until he began winning duels against Amazons and fighting Diana directly.


@Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

Thrall's observation on Princess Diana's preferred form of address netted him an uncomprehending stare.  For those from the Patriarch's World, apparently 'preference' overrode protocol.  Not with Themyscirans.  The Princess was the Heir.  Obviously she had a name, and if she gave consent to address her directly by it, that was her choice and her order.  But talking about the Heir on a first name basis was not something Scyleia was prepared to do.


The male's offer to show her more of the Watchtower at last prompted the Amazon into action.  She added a "Thank you" after the fact, as it was the polite thing to do and she really was interested in seeing more of this place.  For the most part, she kept her attention on the architecture.  Less confusing than the mixed signals she kept getting from the male so obviously familiar with Themyscira in a way no male ever had been.  


"Yes, I've met Princess Koriandi'r," she answers when asked.  "Once, quite some time ago."  The question, and the memory of the woman it conjured, caused her to give the man another appraising look.  There was some resemblance at least.  Unlike Nathaniel.  He was her son in the 'traditional' way, borne by her wife Kimberly and resembling those who contributed the seeds of life.  For an Amazon, bearing children, raising them, the inheritance of traits...complicated questions with complicated answers.  It was disconcerting to think about.  


"A great warrior.  As you are said to be.  Does that heritage satisfy you?"


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"I know nothing about Tamaran," Thrall answered her. She asked about his heritage. The question had more layers than she more than likely anticipated; Thrall interpreted it as his alien lineage. "My mother was deemed an Amazon by your council, but never given the Grace of the Gods. She did not want it for what it meant," Thrall explained to her. These were likely things that had simply never been brought up. Starfire was held with high respect in Themyscira and was trained by Diana herself, but there was no trivia over whom held the Grace of the Gods - the immortality and strength of the Amazons. Not as if Starfire needed either. 

"That is beside my point. My mother is a Princess as well," Thrall explained. While his own statement could have been interpreted in various was, his made an emphasis on the 'as well' of his sentence. "Not that I care about the royal lineage, but I do know a trend. A trend Diana pointed out fto me. Both she and my mother are Princesses, but both of them greatly dislike being called such," Thrall continued to explain. With this explanation, his emphasis on the as well made more sense. He was comparing Diana to his mother, and it wasn't exactly an off-base comparison. "Each have a different reason for it, though," Thrall continued on. His tone perked up as he added in this part. At this point, the size of the Watchtower was also beginning to sink in. The two had went through two sets of chambers and corridors before arriving at an elevator. Thrall stepped in; there was no point in chauvinism to an Amazon.

"Would like to know them?" he asked her while waiting for her to enter the elevator with him.


@Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

There was definitely some incomprehension in the eyes of the Amazon.  An astute observer of human nature, trained to read facial expressions, might discern that Scyleia was paticularly puzzled by Thrall's explanation for why his mother did not desire the blessings of those who'd made her.  The Grace of the Gods was bestowed upon those willing to advocate and fight for peace in the world.  Why would anyone reject such a gift because of that meaning?  But then, Scyleia had centuries of practice in the arts of social maneuvers and spending prolonged periods of time around the same women in close proximity.  She'd learned long ago to school her composure.  


"If it's your preference, your Highness, I will dispense with such titles as well.  But now that I understand your lineage, I will refer to you as Prince Thrall.  Consider it respect for the one who holds it.  If that does not satisfy you, then consider it respect for the position itself.  Royal lineage is not lightly created or traced as the Gods expect much from those who bear the blood."


Having come this far in the tour, Scyleia nods as she joins Thrall on the elevator.  "You have a unique perspective, Sir.  Anything you're willing to share, I would willingly hear."


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thrall let out an internal sigh upon hearing Scyleia call him a Prince. No on called him a Prince. In fact, his title was completely contradictory at this point. A 'thrall' was a servant while a Prince was royalty. No one ever called Diana Princess Wonder Woman. If anything, he would be Prince Myand'r. If not for knowing better, he would almost believe she was being intentionally facetious. A handful more thoughts went through his head and all of which added up to once central point: he would have to correct her, later. What he told her today in the Watchtower might have an impact, but he doubted it. From what he saw, Amazons had thousands of years to etch their opinions into their psyches. It's why when an Amazon went developed a deep-burning hate or a new passion, it was almost impossible to dampen; chances are, it had been growing for several lifetimes over.

"I never knew my mother well," Thrall told her. The elevator doors shut, but their design was almost silent. The click that followed them ascending through the channels was equally gentle. "What little I do know is from others. Mostly Diana," he explained, "it was shock when she denied the Grace of the Gods. The reason was rather simple, really. A Princess is not just a title. It is a responsibility. An obligation. A Princess must uphold the ideals she is meant to represent and defend the people she cares for to the best of her ability. According to Diana, my mother had no problem defending anyone; what she wanted was freedom. Freedom from her obligations, the expectations, the responsibility. I know you believe it is a noble honor, but it does come at a cost. My mother, arguably, didn't even handle the responsibility of motherhood well. As soon as I had control over my powers, she returned to whatever crusade she was on before. Nothing could hold her down... and that is why she denied the Grace of the Gods. Consider all the rules an Amazon must abide by. What you must do to remain compliant with the Gods. What have you sacrificed to keep your immortality and strength?"

Thrall looked over to her more directly this time. His green eyes could cut diamond at this point. "Diana was more complex. She was not the daughter of your late Queen Hippolyta, but she was raised to believe so. You see Diana as the beacon of strength. As the leader of your people. For centuries, she had this fear that she could never be what Hippolyta was. My mother didn't want tied down, but Diana was afraid. Hippolyta had bound the likes of Hades and fought evil after evil, always triumphant. I am deeply saddened by the fact I did not get to meet your Queen because her accomplishments and exploits ring throughout history... but I digress. Themyscira is not a theocracy anymore, is it? Your island nation is purely Democratic. There is no need for a Princess there. It is a frivolous nomenclature from the past. A title that only reminds Diana of her fears," Thrall told her. His voice shifted. When he spoke of his mother, it was relatively lighthearted. But, when he spoke of Diana, there was a more serious tone. A deeper, more powerful resonance to what he said.


"What I just told you? They facts she hates so very much that she would be enraged to know I told you," he added, almost as if bearing down the weight of his words on her like a weapon. The doors then shifted open and Thrall stepped out of them, waiting for Scyleia to follow.


@Epiphany

 

[D3lmoniko]

[SIZE= 48px]Green Arrow[/SIZE]


In another part of the tower, Skylar was walking through the hallways. Waller gave him something to think about. 'A new leaguer?' He shook his head now realizing what he taught. 'No, no. Council member. But why would he send her to my sector?' He shrugged at this time, letting out a small chuckle. "Beggars can't be choosers." He shook his head, keeping his eyes closed. His boots echoed through the hall, along with his whistling.


But, firstly, he had to arrive at the conference room he had requested. It once was a cell, but Sky didn't mind. He had hopped his 'guest' didn't either. Arriving at the place, he couldn't help be surprised. "You are fast... You sure you're not one of Flash's kids?" Opening a folder he had on him, he flips through him. "So... Karoline Hope. I'm Green Arrow. You'll be working with me in my sector. But enough about me." Skylar throws the dossier on the table, a few photos spreading on the table. "...I'm more interested in who I'm going to work with."


With that, he sat relaxed in his chair, standing on its hind legs. Skylar had already previously read that dossier, but wanted to see if she was sincere. She could lie about some things, and for good reasons. But, at the same time, his mother taught him that reality always surprises you.


@NecroKnight

 

[NecroKnight]

@AnnoDomini


"Nope I am not one of those, nor can I be, since I wasn't made like that," replied Karoline Hope aka the vigilante Ghost Hack aka former Mark-08 Infiltration Unit. It was something that had been easily found out about her, despite her skills in hacking - she was very childish and almost newbie at hiding from the ULJ. Albeit, nobody would expect the heroes to start searching for one of their own.


"Well, it would depend, if you want my version or the League' version," she spoke, arms hanging to her side as she looked at Green Arrow. Her eyes almost scanning over everything in this room. She hadn't been much cheery, after having been picked up by several heroes  for saving people. Albeit the situation given to her made sense - do it officially or don't do it at all. Otherwise, she would be responsible for any damage to property and loss of life might happen in her line of work. And being something of a robot cyborg, she wanted to keep all her limbs intact.


"My version - is I am a simple orphan girl, who grew up in one of Metropolis' Orphanage. Was a good girl, did my stuff and got a job. Then with your predecessors blowing up and crime rising - I decided to do some good and start helping people. Hence the outfit, you guys found me in. I am Ghost Hack - I find out your location, crime and what you are doing with my hacking skills and then I locate you, beat you up and leave you for the police to handle. Downloading your crimes onto an data-drive and with duck-tape glueing it onto your ass."


"League or Waller, or whomever your leader be version. I am some robot cyborg, created by some guy you guys call Professor Ivo. Never much heard about him, but the files on him state - he is one evil mofo. Oh, and he likes to build robots," she said, scratching her face. The League had her 'stats' in question - she had some skill in hand-to-hand combat, albeit what made her different from the rest was her ability to slowly improve and gather more arts. She was likely a training bot, whom would get better with each fight. Plus her hacking skills were very superb - she could code her way into some of the more high-tech systems using some old laptop or computer from the 20s era. While also being at home, behind a quantum computer at that. The only reason she got caught at that, was because she did also street work on the side - instead of remaining behind her data-network.


"They say, that old man also build me - like some other bot, named TURBO or GIZMO...or....DUMBO..." mumbled Karoline, looking at Skylar. "Good thing they say. I am not 'sub-servint' to him. Otherwise they would have to 'deal' with me - which I wouldn't have made easy at that. I have a sense of survival too, I'know?"


"Plus, since you read my 'file' - I can assume, you mostly know about me. But I can give you my rundown of it. I am a hacker, fighter, I got this cool setting in my eyes that allows me to see in several EM spectrums. So I can see, if somebody is listening to us behind this place. Or if you are wearing underwear. Plus, that black armored guy says I am also good for infiltration jobs - since my core reason was built around that. I got some spy-makeup kit from you guys at that - but only to be used in the name of the 'Greater Good'. I haven't had enough time to play with it - but I learn quickly. Oh...and I also like to tune-up and repair cars and other electronics on the side...girls gotta earn some money too...."

 

[Epiphany]

And Scyleia does follow, her face a mask of calm as her thoughts turn inward.  Thrall's words had provoked quite the turmoil in a woman who'd had centuries of serenity, and half a century of trying to fake it.  At first glance, the Amazon might look like every other Amazon a person might meet; stoic, cool, collected, as strong and durable as the golden armor she wore.  But the facets of her grey eyes flicker at Thrall's words, revealing a reaction to statements that would have passed by most Amazons or been ignored.  


Scyleia stood before the senior League member, her expression now direct but unchallenging.  There was no appraisal of the male, his stance, his convictions.  Instead, her glacial calm thawed slightly.  


"Responsibility can be as heavy as a mountain.  And though it's a weight anyone can shoulder, not everyone chooses to shoulder it.  For some people..." her gaze turns speculative, "It's not what we're given in our life that drives us.  It's what we're denied.  What others have that we don't.  What we want that we can't have."  She sighs.  "I can believe that your family's legacy is a noble honor while recognizing it carries a cost.  In the end, it always comes down to a matter of choice.  What kind of man will you be?  What kind of woman did your mother become?"  The golden pauldrons girding her shoulders lifted once in a shrug.  "You have a legacy, Sir, but either way it's not my place to judge it or to judge you.  I know full well what it is to live life under the weight of rule.  I know what it is to be driven by what I'm denied rather than what I'm given.  I know."  


Those last words came out softer than the rest, whatever passion that had imbued her words diminished to nothing by memory.  Then she manages a small smile.  "The Princess Diana is a beacon of strength.  And that's why there's a need for her.  It's true that we vote among ourselves, settle matters by consensus as we believe the whole world should.  But never underestimate the value of...a role model.  The Princess is more than an ancient honorific given by the Gods to a lineage with no modern purpose.  She's also hope.  She's wisdom.  She's light, your Majesty.  A light that shows us where we may go.  And if it's our choice whether we follow, that doesn't negate the value of someone showing us what we all could be."


"May you be a light for others, as the Princess Diana is a light for me."


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thrall looked at her for a moment. He paused in their walk to let his emerald eyes gaze on her and watch as the fiery words poured from her lips. Once she was finished, he let out a slight chuckle... but that was all. He then turned around and continued walking, leading her down the halls. It was an odd silence silence. His response was a chilling gust to the flame she ignited. She took things so incredibly far and there was no verbose response from him. The contrast to how he so intricately explained how the Princesses felt to how a simple slight of laughter was daunting. This man took everything she threw at him, the thawing of her stoic heart... and laughed.

"I have one reply to all of that," he told her, continuing down the hallway now in front of her, "and it is this: You need not be royalty, molded from Clay by gods or honored by anyone to be a role model. In this world, there are men and women alike that risk more than you and I ever will. They have not our physical strength, yet spend large portions of their lifetimes learning a trade or a set of skills for an occupation that would be of little danger to us. The time they spend becoming good at what they do is an investment of their lifetime that is a mere blink to your eyes, yet they do it anyway. These people are not soldiers - nor warriors. They are firefighters, paramedics, flight nurses, cops... and none of them are bullet proof, but they take up a risk far greater than any you or I have ever - and that risk exists due to their weakness. It is my opinion that in the world of man, those whom take that risk despite their weakness are greater beacons of strength than anyone that has ever walked these halls... because the fact is, Scyleia, not everyone can be Superman or Wonder Woman."


@Epiphany 

 

[Epiphany]

Scyleia nodded approvingly at Thrall's response, if not in his reaction to her.  


"No, not everyone shares the same gifts.  Everyone does have a capacity for peace, however.  For harmony.  For heroism.  Royal blood, divine power, being bullet proof...these things aren't by themselves heroic.  Rather, they enable heroism.  They allow those with such blessings to do more than others can, to save more than others can.  That's why it's a heavy responsibility.  That's why it's a responsibility worth bearing despite the weight, because it's worth it to the people you can save."


"But anyone can be a hero.  Many of those who are will never been noticed or acknowledged.  That's another reason role models matter; mortals especially in this modern age see so little of each other.  The woman who defends another from racial harassment may never be thought of again by a witness but anyone who looks to the skies and sees Superman sees him.  Sees what he stands for.  That could be you, your Majesty.  If you make that choice."


As they walk on, Scyleia at last finishes by saying "If you make the choice that mortals make.  For you speak truly; there are indeed men and women who sacrifice much and with far less protection than we have, even with these chains.  My wife was a cop in Star City.  I saw what she endured for years.  She was a hero and she had nothing more than the arms and armaments given her by the police department."


"We have much more.  How much greater our obligation then, to live up to what they need us to be.  To what they would be themselves, were they us.  For their honor, if not ours, should we not try?"


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"If you had a bow, Scyleia, every arrow from your sheathe would have missed the target," Thrall explained. Thrall turned down the hallway he was going down which led to a hub of slightly different structure. This one was larger with multiple terminals and significantly thicker frames. While still guiding his fellow Amazon, Thrall made his way to one of the terminals and began a short series of inputs that relayed light vibrations with each touch. "When I say not everyone can be Wonder Woman or Superman, I literally mean that not everyone can make that impact. It is an unreasonable rationale to believe that the average mortal of the realm of man would ever aspire to be so much more than what they could," he explained to her. Soon after, a spiral door to his left opened and he stepped through it. The hallway he was guiding her down now was significantly shorter than the others and had a clear exit: a large set of double-doors that were bolted shut. As he stood in front of them, they began to unbolt starting from the top set of six.


"We may make shoulder a large responsibility and we may have more potential to do good, but we are not the role models mankind needs. This world needs more people like your wife than it ever will you or I. People need to see they can do better on their own as who they are - not a demigod or an alien. These criminals grow up in crime, in corruption, in poverty - we need people not just to save them from threats and to clean up crime. We need people that inspire others to be better," Thrall continued his explanation, now at this point nearly a lecture. His green eyes peered at her one last time as the doors finally began to slide open. "And, this is where Diana spent most of her time..." he told her, finally delivering on what he promised.


The room behind him was effectively an immense Colosseum. The architecture it bore had a distinct similarity to the Roman style that was popularized, but at the same time, it had the same characteristics as the other Watchtower training rooms. Incredibly thick shielding, a completely adaptive set of walls, flooring and ceiling with perfectly spaced tiling and layers meant to shift based on preset programming. Unlike other rooms, this one had no bay doors to release munitions or drones. It had what appeared to be several empty mounts scattered throughout the area, however. Overall, the room was a little smaller than a Football field, although Scyleia was unlikely to be able to make the size reference. In fact, Themyscira had at least two larger arenas. Neither of them, however, were orbiting space.


@Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

"I suspect we're talking about different targets at this point," Scyleia said as she followed a man who was both substantially younger than her, while being very much her senior here.  She paused and studied the terminals, fascinated by the touch-controls and how deftly Thrall seemed to handle them.  Amazonian technology was advanced but it'd gone a different direction in many ways.  The spiral door, for example, was technically within their capabilities but it didn't follow Themysciraian aesthetics.  This whole place had a foreign touch to it that made it exotic.  And for a time, Thrall's tour lightened that cold expression.  Or maybe not cold, exactly.  Resigned.  Grim.  Weary.  But at the moment, her face was alight with wonder.  


"So I'll speak to what we do agree on," the Amazon said at last as she stood where the Princess of her island had trained.  "The world does need more mortal heroes.  It needs people who will inspire the best in others and though I believe good comes from any role model, ones most people can relate to will inspire more.  You speak as if you've given this some thought, your Majesty.  And that it's important I understand that thought and perhaps the process that produced it.  Are you concerned about how I'll interact with others who lack gifts or powers?  Who are not demigods or aliens?  When I came here, I said I'd come to give your cause aid if I could.  It was kind of you to show me the places that matter to the Princess Diana but I'm here for more than a tour.  I'm here to help.  And though I'm not mortal, I'm also not much more than mortal at the moment."


She lifts her shackled hands and smirks wryly.  "We're plainspoken in Themyscira.  You can speak freely with me, Sir."  


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"We can get back to the previous discussion in a moment," Thrall told her as he waved his hand to show her the inside of the large room, "but for now, let me remind you why I brought you all the way here. This is the arena built to handle the most powerful members of the Justice League. Superman, Diana, so on and so forth. This became her domicile. She was nearly undefeated in this room. Even Superman rarely defeated her in martial combat. The Flash made efforts, too, but his speed didn't match her wit. A handful of Lanterns tried their luck and often left shattered. As the stories go, the only two that ever honestly stood a chance were Arthur Curry of Atlantis and  J'onn J'onz of Mars. An alien and a royal. Ironic, isn't it? ...But, I do digress. Despite this room being built for the strongest contenders on Earth, it rarely did. While testing her strength was often something she took pride in, Diana fought mostly with mortals. Not for their strength, but for their martial skill. A dozen Alpha-level League members have stepped foot in this room, but hundreds of masters and skilled fighters have stepped into the arena with Diana. Not for the intention of winning, but you know the old saying... Iron sharpens iron."


Thrall began walking deeper into the room after his lengthy exposition. It was an entirely different side of him. Neither the authoritative tone from earlier nor the passionate one from just recently. "I know how plainspoken you are in Themyscira, so I'll keep this next part plain. With the same chains that hold you down and weaken you, I was able to spar with Diana in singles combat. My win loss ratio was 3:7; higher than damn-near anyone alive. I want to see how strong you - a native of Themyscira - are with these same chains. Two reasons, really. General curiosity, first, but also because I need to know how strong you are to know where to effectively place you... in short, Scyleia... come at me."


@Epiphany

 

[D3lmoniko]

[SIZE= 48px]Green Arrow[/SIZE]


Skylar let out a laugh. "You know, I called him 'Black Armored Guy' once. Heeee, didn't quite liked that." He rose from his chair, stretching a little. "So, you are some sort-of Oracle. And before you ask, she was helping Bats back in the day. Plus, the other tune-ups, so to say, might give us an edge in battle." He took up the file, and opened it up at one page, setting it slowly on the desk. "Congratulations, Karoline Hope. You are now an employee of Queen Industries. I enrolled you in the IT department. That would be your cover-up job. In reality, you'll be helping me and the rest clean up Star City."


"When my dad, the original Green Arrow, protected the city, crime rates were not that high. They were at an all time low." Skylar said, staring into space, sighing. "But now... It's a heaven for criminals. Some even fled from Gotham now that Bettle is patrolling it once more." Skylar patted her on the shoulder. "Oh, and I've already rented you a pad. I payed your first 3 moths advance, so I'll relay money each month to cover up your expenses."


Skylar, smiling, then looked at her. "Welcome to the Arrow family Ghost. Now, if you'll escort me to the teleporter, I can introduce you to the rest of the team." As he said that, he started walking towards the halls, and in the direction of the Zeta beams.


@NecroKnight

 

[NecroKnight]

@AnnoDomini


"Kinda. I got the ability to learn your moves in a sense. I got twenty martials arts under my brain. And I can use them with great efficiency. Do you want to know the result of combining the Russian Spec Ops Systema with Krav Maga?" she asked, humming like she was remembering some old moment in her journey as a hero.


"A job and paid pad already? If I didn't know any better I would think you were already hitting on me. I do have the necessary parts, if your curious," teased Hope, winking at him. She was an Infiltrator after all, and was still learning the art of making men to stupid things.


"And I think I would have been better as some engineer. But IT department it is, I guess I could improve your cyberdefense system. Have to appear the part as well," she added, following Queen through the Zeta Beam. Her name 'Ghost' being said. "Hey, it's called Ghost Hac-"

 

[Epiphany]

Scyleia nodded once to Thrall as he gestured to the spacious arena.  She listened attentively to his rendition of the battle area's history and smiled slightly at Thrall's implicit praise of the Princess' combat prowess.  And the Amazon smiled slightly, nodding in approval at Thrall's assessment of Diana's choice in sparring partners.  


She doesn't follow him into the room as he continued speaking.  This is his space, more than hers, and it's more worthwhile to watch him walk it.  Study how he moves in relation to its walls, its floor, in relation to the memories of the battles he spoke of.  Scyleia did give Thrall a brief, approving nod at his comment about plainspokenness but otherwise just looked thoughtful at his request.  Despite his emphatic command at the end, Scyleia didn't rush the man.  She instead took the time to unstrap the golden armor she wore, leaving her dressed in a white knee-length tunic belted along the waist.  


Once her armor was set aside, the Amazon strode towards Thrall.  It was by no means a charge but neither was it a slow pace.  When she neared kicking distance, she perceptibly paused.  To a trained combatant, it's suggested Scyleia's used to letting opponents come against her rather than take the first punch.  But in the time it took for most warriors to draw that conclusion, Scyleia had already closed that distance and came in swinging.  She seemed slower than the average Amazon.  Might be the Chains.  Or it might be her feeling out her sparring partner, testing his reach, how he moved on his feet.  One thing's sure; Scyleia's done a lot of sparring over the centuries and she's in no rush to overcommit or engage in theatrics for the sake of making an impression.  


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"Not uncommon," Thrall said as he noted her walking towards him at a relaxed pace, "many watched close once they realized I was stronger than they." It was the truth. A good majority of the Amazons on Themyscira were brash and thrust themselves into combat. Only the elite took their time, and even then then, they were still often in some form of combat. Thrall was a weakling on the island for a long time, so he saw this. He knew their patterns. And, once he became strong, he saw how their patterns changed to adapt. They hoped to find an opening. Few did.

Thrall stepped backwards once Scyleia closed in on him, then smiled. Smirked, actually. It was a devilish one. The type of cocky smirk she might have seen back when she lived in the world of Man. The smirk of a punk that thought he had control. "You know what always bothered me about Amazons?" Thrall said, sparking conversations before throwing fists, "all of you tend to be beautiful, yet waste it." 

Whether Scyleia say through it or not, his words and mannerisms were but a facade. One that worked on quite a few Amazons on Themyscira. All of it was intended to tempt her. To taunt her. His arrogance, his tone, his words, the ideals he seemed to represent. It was just the superficial layer to his combat. The second layer was hidden underneath in his stance as it widened when he slid his foot back and shifted his pelvis to a partially diagonal angle. His upper body matched the tilt of his pelvis and he arched his back just slightly. While his hand distal to Scyleia was clenched tightly to his body with his elbow bent, his proximal hand was lifted up into an open palm with his fingers gently curled toward him. He was ready for her to move... and preparing if she took too long.


@Epiphany

 

[Epiphany]

Scyleia's eyes narrowed in irritation at Thrall's words.  Given the male seemed so focused on having a conversation while sparring, she chose to indulge him with an answer.  "Beauty is its own virtue.  It's only wasted when its ruined.  But its true that Amazons spend less time on beautification of ourselves.  We find beautification of the world a much better pursuit.  I'm rather fond of making pottery for example, both decorative and functional.  I'm curious, your Majesty; what have you ever made?"


She saw the open invitation as well as its likely response.  Of course, Thrall was a skilled combatant and might try for a kick.  None of the possibilities bothered her much.  This was practice against someone she'd never fought before.  Everything would be an opportunity to learn.  


So she moved in, closed within reach.  The Amazon led her approach with a punch, a quick jab to the face.  She might score a blow if he wasn't taking this seriously.  Slightly more likely; she might make him flinch.  What was probable was that he'd react, somehow.  And how he moved to counter her would set up the rest of her strategy.  A dozen moves ahead lay behind her eyes, done a dozen different ways.  But every possibility depended on what he did next.  And just how strong, how fast, and how skilled he really was.  
 


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thrall saw her narrow her eyes. She responded to the verbal layer of his assault in a controlled manner. Far more controlled than some other Amazons. Granted, she had spent some time off Themyscira. In fact, that life was mostly mortal. She, on some level, had to control herself like a civilian, not a warrior. It was woven into her at this point. Or, so was the logic that Thrall calculated as he processed her reaction. While every single person was different, together, they made trends. Patterns. Amazons were no different. Themyscira had its own set of patterns that Thrall became accustomed to. More than just traditions. Human behavior that had cultured over thousands of years inside a handful of immortal women. Scyleia and her reactions placed her in the minority of the behavior he had observed on Themyscira; and, that was something Thrall needed to examine.


She responded to him as well. A deep, philosophical answer. He words contradicted her eyes. Somewhere, he saw a spark of inner frustration in her. He saw that she resented what he said on some level, but her control was such that she could conceive a relatively well-scripted retort. That was the quality of her words, though. Scripted. Maybe they were true to her, but on some level, they reflected the countless years of programming the Amazons had for their psychological values. She still was a reflection of her culture. Thrall wanted more.

Her speed wasn't impressive, but he didn't expect it to be. The chains fourthed her entire physique and as an Amazon Scyleia was known better for her crafts than her combat. Even then, any one Amazon was far below Diana in speed, strength or stamina; it was their skill that could present her unique challenges. All she could see of his speed, however, was a blur. With her restraints, his next few movements couldn't even be physiologically processed correctly. Even without them, following Diana in combat was a challenge; and, Thrall was able to fight on her level. His first move was a swift sway to the side out of the line of her jab. He stepped forward, bypassing her jab, and leaning in close enough to press his chest onto hers. There was an odd, awkward warmth that emanated from him. Even more so, when his face was directly across from hers and his mouth to her ear. 

"History," he replied to her. His answer reflected the attitude he had prior. Arrogance. But, it likely wasn't his words that were the spark for any rage she was about to experience. no. No, it was his actions. By the time he had whispered, her jab would have finally followed through with its momentum. When she was expecting she could have countered whatever she set up, he already had it executed. It was as if she was fighting in the past. With the distance bridged between them, it took him even less time to press his warm lips to her neck. It wasn't a long kiss or a deep bite, but it was a sensual sensation. It was a shot to her pride. Instead of beating her or hurting or - instead of treating her like a warrior - he treated her like an object. 

Thrall wasn't one to push his luck. He held his lips there for only as long as he knew his superior speed could outmatch her without complicating the matter. The moment he calculated she could effectively respond, he leaped backwards and even in mid-flight to speed up his retreat in a diagonal direction away from Scyleia, going in the direction away from whichever arm she had extended for her jab. He smirked again mid air, floating only a foot or so above it and only a yard or so away from Scyleia. He landed and resumed his same initial stance.

"This time, I'll fight at your speed," he told her. Again, he was being overtly arrogant. It was no secret that he was stronger or faster, but he made it an emphatic point that he was; and, that he had to restrain himself to fight her. With the same devious grin he had before, he added, "I find beauty in indulging in that which is forbidden; like what is before me." Every action, every word, even his compliments - they were all designed to emphasize his arrogance and push Scyleia into uncomfortable territory. Thrall was not just testing her combative skills. He was testing her fortitude on every level.


@Epiphany 

 

[Sir Les Paul]

z

 
​

It was rare for the Waller to call someone directly to his office. Most of the time, he was managing cases, assessing threats or dealing with the legislative, political and national ties associated with this position. In all reality, the biggest majority of his time was spent listening to the constant bitching of different world leaders or reading their reports and/or messages that effectively contained the same content. Waller was a busy man. At a time in his life, he was one of the most respected soldiers in the world. A leader on the battlefield. A man among men. Now, he moderated the largest enforcement agency in the world and attempted to appease the world that the very agency once failed. It was no easy task. It took time, dedication and determination. In his entire time in the new League, he hadn't attended a single council meeting in person. Getting an appointment with him was next to impossible. 

So, for Vincent Charlie Szasz to be sitting directly across from him in the Watchtower held a lot of weight.

"Do you prefer Vincent or Question?" Waller asked first. He sat stern and his tone was flat. Authority radiated off from him in a way only a hardened man of the military was capable of creating. His question was quick and to the point, and it transitioned into his upcoming speech.

"If you even remotely live up to your legacy," Waller said, his tone almost scrutinizing now, "then you know being here means I have something important for you. I won't waste your time, so don't waste mine."


If these conversations were steak, they would be trimmed clean.
 


"Reports from Blüdhaven show signs of an otherwise low-priority threat - Drake Swift - interacting with a completely unknown entity. His abilities are unknown, his tech is unlike anything we have seen and apparently, he was capable of bringing Nightwing to her knees with mere words. I don't have a full report yet, but I do know that Rebecca Drake made contact with her contacts in Star City. It was an absolute waste of time and allowed a moderate threat - Ryan Wilson - to avoid confrontation in Star City. To my knowledge, Jessica is presently not in her prime state and I am of utmost assurance that Rebecca cannot handle this situation alone. An unknown entity is very rare; for both you and I. It is my understanding that you requested to be assigned in Gotham, but I would like you to assist Blüdhaven. I made this meeting to make this request personally so that you would understand the importance of handling this situation," Waller explained to Question. His tone was as expected: the entire conversation felt like a mission debriefing. Even his attempt to emphasize the importance of this situation was formal. He also ignored the standard protocol of using names. Jessica for Nightwing, Rebecca for Blackbird, Ryan for Deathstroke - privy information that most wouldn't know. Waller wasted no times playing games; acting as if Question didn't likely already know it all.


"I will make this request only once," Waller added, "so will you do it?"


@Hell-Jumper

 

[Epiphany]

Thrall vanished before her fist, the way a hologram or a waterfall might shift eternally out of reach.  And then he was against her, pressed against her, his lips on her neck, intimate as a lover.  As intimate as Kimberly's lips had been, the last person to touch her like that.  It'd been sixty years since she laid eyes on her living wife, and a bare month since she'd buried the woman she'd loved every day since.  Thrall's nearness, his unnatural warmth, his lips woke feelings Scyleia hadn't known she had, had scarcely allowed herself to feel.  Need, regret, guilt, horror blended together in a sudden, agonizing mix.  


Just as the male flew backwards and gained altitude, Scyleia lunged backwards with a cry that carried grief as much as it did revulsion.  This time, the Amazon's eyes practically blazed but there were darker, heavier feelings than mere rage in her expression.  And as Thrall threw out his challenge to her, she quelled those feelings just as swiftly as they'd overtaken her.  


I'm out of practice for this.  Centuries of training, even the last half century of renewed practice, and I've never met someone who fights like this.  But I have.  And I will.  By Athena, I'll meet the like of him and worse in the Patriarch's World.  Understand your feelings, Scyleia, don't deny them but let them pass through you.


"You're better than this, your Majesty."  Sycleia took the male head on, driving towards him with a flurry of fast punches and a close stance to lessen her exposure.  No kicks against someone this fast.  The leg had much power but it was slow and it extended her form, something an agile opponent could exploit.  "You've fought with women for years.  You won the Princess' respect, if not admiration.  Be worthy of that respect, Sir.  Give it, as it was given to you."


She closed the distance as much as she could and tried for a hands on approach.  He was faster, and arguably stronger, but Scyleia was well trained in the arts of grappling, of wrestling an opponent into submission.  The proper leverage could neutralize both of those advantages.  If only she could get her hands on him.  


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Romani]

 
​

The man appeared to consider the question for a moment. "I prefer Question. Keeps things professional.",he replied simply. Question stared unblinking at the stone faced man in front of him. He took in every word, every involuntary twitch, every last detail.
​

 
​

Even if he hadn't done his own "research", he would've known Waller was military. The crisp, cut look, the firm tone, the unwavering manner. They were traits scarcely seen outside of military service. Vincent had dealt with numerous armed forces, para-military groups, and militias. He knew that this man, if not one to be wary of, would be a valuable ally. 
​

 
​

Once Waller had finished with his debrief, Vincent clasped his hands in front of him."It'll be taken care of, sir",he stated with neither pride nor hubris. His voice held remnants of Sage's somewhat gravelly speech pattern, a trait he had unintentionally picked up. "I'll need any available information on this Drake Swift, and I'll either need Grayson's report, or a chance to debrief her myself." The black hair man got to his feet, smoothed out his vest, and put on his jacket. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, awaiting dismissal. "Are there any other factors at play I should know about, sir?",he asked, careful to retain his composure in front of the powerful man.
​

@Sir Les Paul
​