The Bird and The Wall

September 17, 2014: The Wall gets a request to meet Corvinus. It is a disturbingly informative session.

Oaktown Community Park, Bakerline, Dusk

Oaktown Community Park is one of several community parks in Bakerline that have nice clumps of trees for surreptitious meetings as well as open picnic areas for day trips.

Bakerline is a primarily a middle-class housing community consisting of three districts known as Lafayette, Oaktown, and Hamstead. Spread across these three districts are homes that show what Metropolis was before it became the large bustling and shining city. Small businesses do not exceed more then three to four stories in height, most ground levels turned into 'mom and pop' storefronts while they lease the areas above out to tenants or reside there themselves. Like any older neighborhoods the middle class can vary to that of lower, the old housing nearly appearing derelict if not abandoned completely, but despite that appearance there is still the bustling of life as block parties are hosted by the communities within communities, residing closely and not just by the separation of walls - most of these people have grown up together for generations and enjoyed the peace they have from the bustling borough of New Troy.

Small parks mottle the areas as well as Bakerline Zoo, centralized between the districts of Lafayette and Hamstead, making areas for these families to enjoy without having to venture too far from home.



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Mood Music:

Posting on Craigslist Tri-City Region running for thirty days.

Single ornithologist seeking wall of woman for insightful yet patriotic and defensive talks. A man date, this is not.


Jim Reha, on behalf of his partner The Corvinus, had been given the faintest of hints by others that there was a person known by the alias 'Amanda Waller'. Recently, he had interactions with one of the individuals that Ms. Waller had allegedly targeted, and the outcome of that discussion was… not promising, to say the least.

The Corvinus has given itself a task of near importance to that of the primary task of 'Providing Enlightenment'. That other task is 'Preserving as many lives on Earth as possible' for certain reasons. In pursuit of that task, it left both a painfully obvious and cleverly disguised wanted ad on the Internet seeking the attention of this individual.

A few days had passed, and eventually a response came in the form of latitude and longitude. The location seemed familiar for some reason, and it took Jim to look at a map and realize that hey, it was the same park that he'd had a relatively surreptitious meeting with the Man of Steel recently. He's not a one for coincidences, and comes to the meeting area a little bit before the time of shortly after dusk, setting up a little bit of a camp at a picnic table secluded from the rest of the park.

The man appears largely harmless. Mid-40s, salt and pepper hair, heavy-set, and really dressed down for the meet. Curiously enough, he doesn't appear to be either armed or armored, and his backpack doesn't appear to have much in the way of, well, anything electronic or explosive in it from any ranged scans…


…But Amanda knows that there's more to people that meets the eye. Look at her history. Enough of that now, back to the story.

Where were we? Right. The meet up. It's safe to say that the park itself was surrounded, all exits and entries covered by a few men in black. They were just normal humans, armed to the teeth and nails just in case something were to jump off. Amanda liked it that way; lately, she prefered to avoid violence, but she wouldn't hesitate to smack something down if it approached her the wrong way, we could call that one Pride.

So the place was set, com placed within her ear as per usual, flack jacket fitted upon her body underneath a white blouse serving as a backdrop to a light grey pant suit. Hair, a little bit longer now, tied up into a bun that shows off an angular yet stern jaw, brow eyes always narrowed, examining.. showing a thinking mind behind.
She was ready.
Footfalls were made with great purpose as the location was approached, lips forming into a thin line as she approached the stoutly fellow, purposely making a little bit of noise as to not startle him which would startle her in return. A clearing of the throat finalized her appearance, hands crossed over the other in front of her as she remained tall as she was, chin held upright with an air of authority and confidence, body stiff from that all too natural paranoia and ready.
"Who are you and what do you want." Cut, clear to the point, voice like ice.


"Name's James Reha."
The guy's body language isn't 'off', but it clearly is NOT that of a trained field operative. Perhaps some military experience ages ago, but generally beaten down by the walk of life so much that it's barely present. "There's been some things happening up in New York. Partner talked to one of the parties, isn't comfortable with the situation, wants to discuss options."

When he says 'partner' there's a slight twitch, like someone that's telling a half-truth that's still getting used to the idea of telling it.

"Partner is very keen on keeping as many people alive as possible, seriously worried about some incoming bad weather. Says that the more we keep upright, the greater chance we got of weatherin' it. Don't have a reason to doubt it."

He pauses briefly, and attempts to let the tension roll out of his shoulders. No, he's clearly not good at the whole 'craft' thing.

He places his palms on the picnic table in front of him. There are no apparent explosives, no wires, no hints of anything other than attempting to indicate a lack of threat. "Partner wants to talk to you, but also wants to make sure that you're receptive and not the threat that the things happening up in New York seem to indicate?"

Either the guy's nuts, he's got something up his sleeve, or there's something potentially weird about to go down. Maybe.

Despite this, his body language is calm, measured, almost like it's an attempt at reassurance.


Amanda remained still. It was hard to tell as the sun sets if she were actually breathing or not. Her expression remained unreadable, she was a woman of few words and this time made it no different.

"This, partner you speak of.." Her voice wasn't dripping with malice, it was dripping with curiousity and the need to move and inspire him more into screwing up. Because right now? She could -almost- see through the words, the way he held himself; she was a reader. But do not let him know, play into those cards. Play into it well.

She answers no questions, bypassing them, locking and storing them away for now. That featuress expression remained as such, even as voices speak to her over the com.

"What the hell is this guy on, Bill?"

"You already know what she's going to want, she wants details on every little happening that's going on in New York."

"Ugh. At least the overtime pay is great."

Her eye shifts towards the left and then to the right as she approaches, breaking that stance in order to settle down upon the bench, one leg hooked over the wooden slat, as both hands press against the wood as such. "I will admit one thing and one thing only, I have turned a blind eye towards New York in favor of self preservation. For now. If that person chooses to meet to guess my integrity then so be it. However, there is also the chance that 'your partner', may not like the outcome."

With her, no one ever does.


The portly guy nods slightly. "There are many things afoot in New York. The one that is related to this discussion is Mister Aaron."

The fellow pauses briefly as he considers.

"To underscore how much of a concern this matter is, the partner is willing to show you something that it should be keeping under lock and key. Please do not shoot at it?"

Slowly the man gets up and takes a couple of steps back, and his form blurs and twists. No screaming in agony from the guy, he's actually pretty mellow for what's going on. No fervor of the fanatic, either.

Yep. Houston. We have Weird.

When the alterations are done there is something that is *not* human standing before The Wall. Something… ancient. And far more assured and oodles more calm than the portly fellow…

"This one greets one." Its intonation is somewhat soothing, and far more measured than the other guy.

"This one is honored to meet one."


There are a few, little to none things that cause Amanda to break candor; a fit of rage at something done wrong -to- her and -on- her, a lovely glass of vintage wine or scotch, and something like this. "Mister Aaron is no longer a factor." She manages to say.

Back to the subject of breaking candor, another one of those things would be to see a smile from Deathstroke, or for one of the other fellows to remember her name and her entire history, about how she actually cried a little bit too much when she joined up with Team 7. Her hands lift disarmingly as she leans back to keep her squatted stance.. until…




The coms alight afire with random urgings, 'Weatherman under attack', and.. 'Get The Wall out of there', yet her hand reaches up to press against her ear as she speaks clearly.

"Belay that order. Stand -down-."

Silence, her ears have missed it so.

Despite the soothing tones of the birdman, Amanda had no choice but to remain non-plussed. She spoke out of turn and thus saw fit to rectify that with a stand and a slight bow of her head. Her heart pounded with anticipation, and wonder at just what in the hell is going on.

"This, I assume, is the partner." She gestures at his visage, attempting to not cringe at sight. He was not ugly, it was just the fact that she herself was not used to seeing something like this up close.

"It is an honor to meet you as well. But you must tell me, why should my eye and concern be turned to New York? I need to know this now." If he was willing to show his hand? It must be important. This isn't something she figures she should take lightly.


The avianoid nods. "This one is The Corvinus, Extrapolated Intelligence. A recent discussion with Mister Aaron indicated to this one that his intentions were less than predictable and potentially a threat to those around him. This one does not appreciate violence, as this one is an agent of Enlightenment and seeks it for all viable entities, regardless of affiliation, inclination, or direction.
This one is also attempting to preserve as much of the sentient life on this world in preparation for a coming Storm, the likes of which this world may not be prepared to resist without every possible resource and asset available. This one's… 'intelligence' seemed to indicate that one was also in this vein."

The strange being pauses, then tilts its head slightly. "This one apologizes for any mental duress this one may have caused. The partner was not sure this was the proper course of action and this one vetoed that in concern over this threat."


There was a brief flash of anger, followed by a relaxed state as a breath was drawn in, hand lifting to pinch the bridge of her nose. Deep breath, Amanda. She releases it with a quick blow out of her lips, eyes soon opening to face the creature head on with renewed vigor.

"Careful. Corvinus. I abhor violence as well, but if I do percieve your words to be a threat.."

The place would be surrounded in thirty seconds. Even if she went down or not.

"Mister Aaron is of no factor to me, nor my concern anymore. If his actions draw out the need for me to come there physically myself to put him down then so be it. But really, what do you expect by having the god-son of Ares walk around mortals? A tea party? No. They are dangerous, they are tricksters and not fit to be on mortal soil." She tch's, loudly, her head shaking. She was getting a little bit beside herself.

"You speak of oncoming storm, but what does this mean? This threat? Mental duress be damned, I am fine. What. Oncoming storm, is it that you speak of?"

She was ready to bring down the hammer, to capture this bird if he did not answer.


"This one does not threaten. It is counterproductive to the educational process to induce fear in one's students. If one has fear on their mind, it clouds their judgement. Clouded judgement leads to fault-laden errors. Fault-laden errors cause even more fear."

"This one sees one's concern directly and this one could presumedly be part of that category one speaks of. Power without constraint and focus is dangerous. The coming Storm is the future arrival of a client-people from a world far from here. They are warlike and belligerent, and not in keeping with the seeking of Enlightenment. Their resources are immense, their capability seemingly endless, their capacity for violence unacceptable. This one has reason to believe that they will arrive within the next decade. This one realizes to humanity this is a very long time, but to this one, it is an eyeblink."


"I'm not your student." Amanda -nearly- growls out. She didn't remember agreeing to a damn thing.

But, this was all becoming a little too taxing for Amanda, and it nearly showed upon once hardened, yet gentle features. The leg shifts from the bench as she moves out into the open, the button of her suit jacket torn from it's place in favor of a breath of air with hands upon hips. She paces, listening closely, only stopping within her tracks to bring herself to a full on crouch, a hand planted upon her forehead to draw downward as if wiping away a mask held in place.

There was only one question she wanted to know, one that she was truly concerned with: "Do you know who they are."


The avianoid resists the urge to correct the woman. The fact that she had not resorted to violence and was listening to it indicates at least to its criteria that Amanda counts as a 'student'. It does realize, however, that such an implication at this stage would upset the student.

"The world was called Thanagar. That is the nearest approximation this one can make with appropriate linguistic shifts."

In contrast to the soothing tones of earlier, this last statement is rather cold, harsh. Perhaps its own assessment of their capability?


Fingers were soon toyed with the grass as a hand moves to her com.

"We got it, Waller."

She said nothing in return. She only remained in that crouched position, her eyes distant, lips puckering as if she had bitten into something sour. She wasn't pleased.

His tone causes her eyes to shift upward, her hands soon touching upon boned knee to push upright, drawing herself to a stand with a roll of her shoulders that release an audible *POP*.

"That bad, huh."


"This one was willing to risk exposure to spread this information. Given the nature of most sentients on this world, this should underscore the seriousness of the situation. Or, to use one's own words. 'That bad.'"

The birdly thing tilts its head slightly. "This one does apologize, but the partner needs to return for work in the morning. If he is missed, there may be an investigation. This would be counterproductive to one's mission as well as this one's. May this one depart?"

Give the ancient thing credit, it is still allowing Amanda to have control of the situation. Almost polite of it, even.


Her breath was heavy, slight little tired groans as she slumps her shoulders, then raises them back up again for the now. "Well. I suppose we need to get to work then, birdman."

She walks towards him, hands stuffed within her pockets, stopping only to reach out to.. lightly.. dap his arm with a closed fist. Uncharacteristic, but this wasn't the time to be hard and stalwart. If there was a storm coming, the tiny bit of compassion she could outwardly show another being was a friendly pat to the … wing.

"We can both go. I'd offer to walk you to where ever, but I think you have that covered."

And whether he follows her or not, she makes her way towards the extraction point, but.. taking the time to smell the roses as they were.

The ancient entity nods at the 'pat' to the limb. Then it tilts its head and considers. "This one is fully capable of transport and would recommend one retire as one would from such a scenario with nothing amiss. This one will remain on station for a short time before departing. This one fully appreciates one's help, focus, consideration, and care in approaching this matter and hopes that we will be working together intermittently in the future as causal events dictate."

Its tone is one of an aged teacher, that is showing that indeed it will be a long road ahead, but ultimately rewarding at the end.

At the designated time, it will attempt to take off under the cover of night, flying north towards Gotham… for a while.

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