The Line

October 19, 2014: Aspect tracks down Hawkgirl, the line to villainy almost crossed. Wonder Woman saved them both.

Flushing Meadows Park

It's a damn park. A big one.



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Mood Music:

Jericho lost Shayera somewhere in Queens. She's good at ditching surveilance devices, whatever else she may be. There's only a few places she could be hiding though and he's arrived in the biggest one to see if he can flush her out. He's brought, this time, a device that looks like an oversized leatherman housed in an oversized quiver for arrows slung behind him at hip level.

Having had an hour or so to think, he's come to the conclusion that this is about the dumbest thing he's ever done. He has no idea what Hawk Girl (that's her name now) can do or what she wants. Just that she seems very angry and very capable. Maybe as capable as him if not more…

"Okay… ollie ollie oxenfree…" He mutters to himself as he walks through the darkening park.

In said park, there was an outhouse. There's always an outhouse in the park. Mostly set for people who work and clean the park, tools of the trade, even a little bench where one could rest on and take their break from the burning sun. That is where Shayera took up, busting the lock with a swing of a fist, dragging herself through the entrance and.. parking it right upon the wood.

She leans a little against the wall, right wing slightly drooped, little did she know then was that the bullet that pierced her wing scathed her arm something fierce, the pain and swelling making it hard for it her to move.

But that was fine, she was injured before, recovery while wearing the Nth metal was swift. It would cut a bullet hole down to about two weeks time where it would take others longer. Until then, she was grounded and tired. Her good hand reaches up to remove the helmet that laid upon her head, harness soon detached, weapons upon the ground as she propped herself up further, eyes soon closing, breathing ragged from running. She needed sleep, and eventually.. food.

Without network traces to track, Jericho's left to fall back on his training as a soldier. Tracking people who don't want to be tracked. Hrm… hiding out in the open with wings like that would be hard. So either the Hawk Girl can hide them or she'll need some cover. There are some out buildings in the corner of the park, tucked out of the way. They're just maintenance sheds and break areas, but they're rarely used. Maybe there.

The hacker heads over at a jog. As he approaches he notices the busted lock. Could be a break in but… probably worth following up. Something's definitely not right here.

From the inside, if Jericho had ears he could probably hear a few grumbling sounds of irritation. Pain was just that, a minor irritation that let a person know that they were alive. In this case, more so. It stung to high heavens, each sting sends a twitching of a wing and a flapping of the other, which could sound like an oversized bird trapped in a cage.

Each twitch and flap causes her to wake up, her eyes looking all around the room until her gaze fixes upon the door. Most wouldn't notice what she does; the light.. even though far away shone from the lamp post, had faded in and out of view, until it was gone. Someone was close, coming near.

She didn't try to stand, but she does reach her hand opposite of her to snatch the mace from her belt. She didn't activate the magic nulling electricity, no. She was going to do this bare bones if it comes to it.

Someone is in there. Someone making a lot of noise, possibly in pain. Jericho reaches behind and flicks the 'tool' at his back, sending one end of it upward like, again, some kind of odd oversized multitool. He keeps his traces unpowered for the moment so as not to give him away with the light. For a long moment he presses himself up against the corner of the building, listening. Then, slowly, he steps around and pushes the door inward, peering, tense.

If it were just some rat kid, she wasn't going to throw her mace at it. In fact, she wasn't going to throw her mace at all. It was carefully set next to her upon the bench, her body bending forward with a quiet, whimpered grunt to take up an idle rock.. one after the other. With two of the stones within her hand, she slowly draws to a stand, breath held to bite back the sounds one would normally make as she rolls them both within her fingers.

Hurt arm is pressed against her middle, her body at a slight lean and hunch as she readies herself to take aim…

The door opens.. and with a quick launch, one after the other, the rocks were thrown at the top most of the persons body, the darkness concealing their features yet.. she knows that outline after second meeting.

Jericho's fast enough to avoid the first one. Not the second though. He hisses in pain as the impact knocks him back a step and that oversized leatherman at his back comes out, unfolding into a wicked looking sword in seconds. "Rocks!" He grunts as he throws the sword up into a high guard. "Seriously?"

His eyes flash amber, actual light behind them. It doesn't look reassuring or pleasant, but he doesn't lunge in just yet. For one thing that's dangerous and for another, unless she wants to knock a hole in the wall, he has her trapped. She isn't going anywhere just yet.

"Yes. Seriously." While that second one was launched, a lean was taken and the mace snatched up from it's place upon the bench. She'd look mightily different to Jericho, she wouldn't seem as much taller or confident for that matter. Her body held the fear that a gun would come out and she'd be dead and gone from this world, and her people back home. The helmet would have been left aside and the anger that currently blankets her face would be seen. He's traced and tracked her here. He was formidable.

"You have two seconds to back away from the threshold, or I will bring the structure down around us." And she could too.

To drive home that fact? The mace springs to life, electricity crackling about it's very, spiked surface.


"Do that. I'll set it on fire. I was hoping for barbecued chicken tonight." Which is a bluff. Jericho doesn't have anything he could use to set the shed, or the wreckage of the shed, on fire. Nor would he if he did. Too obvious, too messy, too hard to control. He's hoping that this 'Thanagarian' doesn't know that though.

Jericho's mostly analyzing her stance but it hasn't escaped his notice that with the helmet off his adversary looks largely human, and she looks afraid.

"I haven't killed you yet." He says more quietly. He's hoping he doesn't have to, or failing that, that he can make it a clean kill. Without an unbalanced rage pushing at him (though give it time, he's still pretty cracked at the moment) it's occured to him that this isn't at all the ravening, slavering invading horde that Corvinus gesticulated about. Even if she does think he's a monster.

Maybe Corvinus was a philosophy professor and she was his student? He could understand the ire then.

Her eyes narrow.

She was never one to back down from a challenge, man.. woman, no. Not child. Children were off limits, unless it was a snowball fight. Then she'd tear those little butts up and have them running home screaming for mama. All in good fun though; which this situation isn't. There was life and death here, and with no time to grab her harness, the mace within her grasp was loosened.. and tossed upwards.

With a catch of the hilt, her good arm raised upward, she crashes the lit mace down upon the ground of the outhouse with a bended knee.


The ground beneath set to crack and rumble, the structure itself shaking loose as she glances upwards towards Jericho with sharp, lowered brows and an angled grin. This match was set to the death the instance the tip of the mace touched the ground; and her words further marked the cause of the course for the fact that she put herself recklessly in harms way as well; ground zero for the collapse.

"You should have the moment you saw me."


Shayera's thrum is matched by one from Jericho as he throws himself backwards. If she can see through the splintering wood and collapsing shed, she'll note a blue power field spring into existance around him. One that's about seven and a half feet tall, and lupine with razor sharp claws and snapping jaws. Oh and still holding his sword, which is now appropriately sized.

"This woman is out of her mind." The hacker mutters as he strains his senses, trying to figure out where the crazy mace wielding girl went.

There was little time for her to remain in that spot, while he lurched backwards, she went sideways.

Mace immediately attached to her hip, her good arm snatches up the helmet to toss upon her head with a sharp smack, the harness she set aside? Grappled and set upon her shoulder. She was calm, even as the ground began to open up as she cracked it open, she was calm.

There were rumors, aqueducts hidden beneath cities to store food in case of a fall out, passage ways built by the founding fathers created by bricklayers and Freemasons revealed with a lay of the mace. Interesting. Shayera will explore when she has the chance.

But there was no time like the present, she rushes out of the outhouse at full speed, not withdrawing a weapon, yet.. leaning her head forward to plant into his middle, arms outstretched to try to tackle him to the ground regardless of the sword drawn forth.

Reckless. There was a danger and brutality in those actions.

One of them will return home a broken man. Or woman.

The powerfield is solid, which means she doesn't bull through it. It also means the impact transfers as he gets tackled. He's on the ground beneath her. Score one for her.

This form is larger though, and stronger. And has claws. She's to close for him to bring his blade to bear, but not too close for the other hand to come up, claws like knives raking at the flank. He'll throw her off if he can and try this again. If not, well it looks like he may be committed to a slightly more feral fight than he'd come anticipating.

This could go so badly for him. Already his traces have sparked with the impact, burning him as the fields get strained. Jericho grits his teeth and pushes through the pain. Okay. Maybe that chicken crack was a bit too far.

Shayera was in beast mode. That mode that a person gets into when blind violence was all that matters. Surely, she was on the side of justice, a hero amongst others, but she toed the line a little too close when it came to methods of brutality. With Jericho Trent? She was about to cross that line into sheer villany.

The rake to her other arm draws out a loud howl, the already injured arm forgoing all pain, fueled by adrenaline to reach for that mace and draw it back. Tears were in her eyes already, but it was not due to the anger, the frustration, the pain, but there was some part of her that did -not- want to harm this man. But the threat was issued, the die was cast.

In her own little way? There was no going back.

Jericho uses the space he buys to leverage his own weapon. Unlike Shayera he has no illusions about being a hero. At best, he's a man who does good things. At worst, and more often, he's a man who does necessary things. The mace goes up and the hacker has no idea what will happen when it comes down. If he has his way, it never will. Training, instinct and frustration kick in as his blade angles up, toward the Thanagarian's neck. It'll be just the work of a moment to drive it up, through her and this'll all be over.

This is ugly. He's not even sure it's right. But in the moment he is sure it's necessary.

Much as he wishes it were not.

If this moment could be framed in time, it would be labled Impossibilities. An impossible moment in time where the two should meet, briefly, and yet again surrounding the same circumstances of that damned raven. You see, the raven was the catalyst in getting one or the other killed. It could have been blamed on Keith, however, there's no sense in bringing an innocent into the blame game where it pertains to life in death.

No. That would be sin.

The mace raised high into the air, a beacon of light in the darkness, prepared to do harm, maim, and murder, until the blade was produced through that same glint of light that would be their saving grace.

For now.

The mace was swung down at an arc, close to the field that conceals Aspect protectively, towards that blade with the aim to knock it back and out of his hand.. or break it. She'd be satisfied with either.

With too close of a quarters, success was usually guaranteed, but once again. Impossibilities.

Just in case, a little movement was input within the downward swing, a sharp jerk to the left to avoid the blade that may have gotten close to the neck; either way, she was going to get hurt. Torn trapezus, slit throat.. it was all but a flip of the coin.

For a man who can freeze, replay, and examine everything he's ever witnessed since the implants went in this moment would stand out for a long time.

Jericho drove that blade forward. The angle was bad, this close, real sword work was impossible. Just an oversized knife really. It went up as the mace came down. He could see every detail in perfect clarity. Sparks flew off the place were haft met blade. His eyes narrowed, preparing for mace impact… or the sensation of metal cleaving through flesh.

Neither expected what happened next.

So little is known about the Ambassador, hardly any appearances, but in the few she has at least garnered a name for herself amongst a few of the masses, perhaps even some recognition. Though neither here nor there in this instance a moment of sight seeing turned into a moment of pause above a fray, one that was threatening blood, if a slight waft of it is not already in the air, reaching her senses upon the updraft that takes that fall of noir hair and sweeps it up and around her visage.

Eyes cast downward and brow furrowed the strike of weapons landing with a ferocity typically would not warrant much of her concern, it is some peoples way, but those two beings… The blows seemed to be assured for an end game betwixt them.

Not this time.

One moment there, hovering in a balance and the weight shifted to plummet Wonder Woman into a swift falling flight, pressure in the air shifting to aid in the well placed and planned landing that has her landing just over Jerico's fallen form, each booted foot planted on either side of his head, red and gold clad upward to the tops of knees, the body suit at the base twining around hips of the star spangled white and blue where her top is red, a golden eagle cresting over her bosom with wings outspread in the smae glory Hawkgirl seeks - but at this moment the meet of weapons is gripped by a stong arm of a different kind of law.

"The blood your spilling, will choke you in the end."

Another shift, as if drawn from the Earth itself and from a lightly lowered position as if to impact the force of the two of them her hand goes from the attempted grapple of Shayera's mace laden grip to that of the fallen form of Jericho, pushing them both apart with a force that sends their already injured bodies sailing apart.

Left to stand between, feet parted with that light glow of the golden lasso dagling from her hip now slowly getting wound into a bold grip, end over end, covering her knuckles in its slow fisted grip of twine.

Jericho picks himself up. Slowly. Maybe a bit painfully. Thankfully the power fields protected him from most of the impact. The wolf-armor flickers and fades, leaving just a man with an unusual sword.

You see, Jericho Trent has met Wonder Woman before. He knows she means business with that lasso of hers. He's not eager to be on the receieving end of it. But he's not willing to let it go quite at that, just yet.

"I hope you know what you're protecting, Princess." He calls out from about twenty feet away, blade at a low guard just incase there's a round two in the works here.

Time stood still.

Just for that moment, time itself, stood still.

The grip upon the mace was white knuckled, the intent was there in her bones. Her mind was made up, there was no going back, she was about to committ murder upon foreign and otherworldly soil; and the thought set in that yes. The Demon Corvinus was to blame.

Her life was going to be in ruin, in shambles. But she did not care. She crossed that line the moment she threw those rocks; no. The moment that raven went sailing from Keith's head as a means to protect and keep safe from harm.

In the end, who kept them safe?

The question was to be answered as the mace drew high in the air, eyes gone, crazed, yet gone for the moment. Shayera was not there. There was no hesitation, wind and words brush past her ear as an eye flinches in reply. The mace bearing down with as much strength as the Nth metal in her hand gave to her, yet crippled and cancelled by the strength the amazon possessed.

Dead eyes soon glance upwards, a scowling hiss barely broke the barrier for Shayera was there, atop of Jericho one minute (bleeding profusely of course), prepared to take the cut to the throat, and she was flying the next.

No brace of wing against air stopped the impact of her upon the ground, skidding back through green and dirt, the end result has her pressed against the tree, the shock hard enough to wake her from her murderous sturpor. She drew in a shock of breath, watered eyes wild as she glances towards Diana towards her haze, she had no protection from the shock but she did manage to drag herself to her feet, both arms nearly torn to shreds yet adrenaline by way of Nth keeping her together, for now.

But dammit, she was sleepy, swaying slightly back and forth, fingers slacking against the mace, the light nearly dying out as she tries to stagger towards the four.. no two..

"Why…" She hisses out, voice cracked.

"Another person. I am willing to take that risk." Wonder Woman states to Jericho, not faltering in her stance, in fact her chin even rises slightly in her own sureness, but not enough to be considered a look 'down' upon him. She knows him enough, /knows/ better. "Allow me to take it and give you rest."

That exchange is enough to allow the winged femme recovery, slowly those cerulean eyes shifting from Jericho to span over the crest of her bare shoulder and the short distance to Hawkgirl. Her stance does not change for several heartbeats, allowing more of a gap to close, more thought to be had; chances to be taken.

"Because neither of you are fighting a fight worth your deaths." Now Wonder Woman moves, able to know Jericho at her back while she puts the strange woman at her front, approaching her ad extending her hand, the vambraces gleaming in the broken light as fingers unfurl to her in extension.

"No further harm here and I will give you aid." No need to look at the wounds between them, the coppery scent coated the air.

The light in Jericho's eyes, which had been blazing, gutters and dies. The blade in his hand folds away into an odd looking contraption which stuffs back into the 'quiver' at his back. "I hope you know what you're doing." He says, backing away.

"If I'm still alive in a few days, I'll follow up on this." Which is not the same thing as 'this isn't over'. More like 'this is your mess now, but I'll be back to help.'

You know. If he lives.

After a long moment wings sprout from his shoulders and he lifts himself painfully into the air. He's got an Agent of SHIELD to meet and she's going to take him to task about being hurt.

After she takes him to task about missing part of his inner being. This is not going to be fun explaining. For now he trusts that Themyscria's Ambassador has the situation well in hand. No deaths today. He wishes he could feel good about that.

But right now, all he can feel is exhausted.

With a flap of wings he orients himself toward a particular bar and shoots skyward into the gloom.

She couldn't outright hear what words were said. Her ears were ringing with the panging pains that plague her body. Surely, she could have kept going, but the throw and toss knocked her out of commission when she was already worn and tired.

"You don't know." Her voice cracked, body hunched, wings a sad and sorry droop as she continued to stagger forward. Her grip was still lessening, with each step she took, the mace hung by her side until it's glow was faint.

"You don't know that /thing/ he is protecting.. that monster.. that be.."

The closer she got to the woman, the longer she stayed out of the fight with Jericho, the more rationale had sunken in. Earlier in the day, she went so far as to protect the lot of them from the bullets being shot towards her, from the very man that she aimed to kill. She.. aimed to kill.

"Oh gods…" She murmurs quietly, eyes soon lifting as the man takes off into the air. He was not around to see this.. no. And even though she does not know Diana just yet? She breaks down into terrible sobs, that murderous intent weighing heavily on her souls. She would have killed a seemingly innocent man over the demon she hunted. The mace drops to the ground as she reaches out to take Diana's hand, leaning into him as a heave of breath is taken, anger let go for the moment in light of tears and wishes for forgiveness.

The very hunt of the demon turned her into a monster, and it broke her heart into pieces.

"You'll live." The two words a firm statement, one that seems to hold no wavering and nothing but surety that Jericho's life is yet to be over as he took to staggering flight. Concern waned like a ripple in the ocean through those eyes before they turned back to the winged woman just before she collapsed at her feet.

As the lowered body wracked with sobs, tears streaming as freely as her blood Wonder Woman exhaled slowly, not remaining in the stand over her but lowering to one knee, her hand taking up a grip beneath her chin and lift her head, meeting their gazes no matter how broken or unknowing.

"I don't pretend to know either. Answers will come when you both are ready. After rest." On one knee before Shayera, one hand kept her chin held aloft as the other brought her broken form into a near sheltering hold, looking up the way Jericho departed, hoping he gets the aid he needs as well if not from her before their two forms vanish.

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