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Post by Walter West on Jan 15, 2017 16:21:17 GMT -6
Walt stared at the ceiling, fidgeting under the bandages on his chest and shoulder. It had been two weeks since he had lost his powers, and the evidence was all around him: junk food wrappers, game controllers, and dirty laundry were spread around his room, and he himself was at the center of it, in his bed.
"What do people even do? I mean... how do you do it? I think I've eaten everything in this house. I sent Dad for Chinese yesterday, and he was back in two minutes. I'm pretty sure he waited in line, too. And the line was in China." Walt rolled his head to face Marty across the room.
"I think this is it, dude. I think I'm done for. I see the light." He turned his gaze back to the ceiling and lifted a hand towards it. "Gram-Gram? Is that you?" He whispered weakly.
Recovery from his injuries had been an arduous process just short of humiliating. First, as he decided where to stay, he decided to rule out the Tower on principle alone.
I'm not about to lounge around the alma mater like I still belong there. I should've left a long time before... this, He had thought disgustedly. So as soon as Jor had patched him up, and despite the urging of all of his friends to the contrary, he was back at his father's Keystone apartment. Specifically, his bedroom, which, apart from the kitchen, were the only cleared areas of his self-imposed exile.
Presently, his stomach rumbled with threatening intensity, and Walt communicated back with a weak, comical sob.
"I think that's the only thing I kept," he said, pointing to his gut. "Can we order something? How long does that take? Weeks? Years?"
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Post by Marty Jordan on Jan 15, 2017 17:51:02 GMT -6
"We just muddle through."
Two weeks had gone by since Walt had lost his powers. Two grueling weeks. Jor had pronounced him healthy, physically, but mentally, Marty had noticed a few issues. Luckily, the scarlet blur had opted to stay within Keystone City. Marty had been working out of the Ferris offices there, which gave him a chance to stay nearby. He couldn't fly anywhere either, but he had a driver who could take him places. So here he was, in the West household.
"You know I used to be able to run to Pluto and back, right?" Marty looked up from the school books. "Seriously. There was this place on Altair 5. They used to do a free steak dinner for any Green Lantern that showed up. One of the best steaks I've ever eaten. Used to be a 15 minute transit. Now, it would take about 400 years to get there."
They were bonding between Marty working on the Stark-Ferris Space Plane and him doing his long distance course work. He didn't have anywhere near the same type of powers, but he'd had a similar experience. The ring was still dead for another few months. His suspension wasn't up yet.
He looked up from the textbook. "Just go. Go into the speed force. While you're there, see if you can get your Gram-Gram's recipe for cinnamon buns. We can see about getting that to Lydia. I miss those." This was obviously not working. "Hey, what about that weather chick? Have you looked her up yet? I mean maybe you should go on a date with her or something. Maybe have a sleep over or something. See if that perks you up."
It had obviously become serious, if Marty was pitching Mallory Mardon. He didn't even approve of whatever it was Walt had going on with her, but at this point, he was willing to try anything. He'd even offered to let Walt come up in his F-16. Marty had brought his personal fighter over from Coast City one trip, so he had a way of getting away from it all. Without the ring, there wasn't much, but loved the plane. He kept another for Lydia at the field too, for the occasional races they did to see who was better. "I keep offering to take you flying. That could be fun."
A few hastily placed taps on an app and Marty looked up. "Pizza's on the way. 30 minutes. I ordered two. That might be enough. You know that you have about 3 days before Lydia starts an intervention here, right?"
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Post by Walter West on Jan 15, 2017 18:20:20 GMT -6
Walt sighed melodramatically at the mention of Mal.
"You know, I don't even know. To be honest, I think I barely had her attention when I could time-travel. Somehow I doubt my game held steady in the midst of all this." He glanced lazily around at his wasteland of a living space. "Besides, presently if she decided to kill me... y'know, she actually could. Hell, even her handler could waste me. Just walk right up and paste me to another truck. I ever tell you about that?"
Marty was trying his level best, but Walt rolled over face-down. "No flying. Oh god," He lifted his head and made a miserable, exasperated gesture with his hands. "A machine is faster than me! Old ladies, y'know, in those motorized carts in grocery stores- they could waste me, man!"
"Two pizzas. The sad thing is, that might actually do the job. What have I become?" And then, the last nail in the coffin.
"Thirty minutes. Wow. Thirty minutes. I'd jump out the window, but it would take me at least that long to get there."
At the mention of Lydia's name, he sat up. "I do, and I mean to cherish them. I hope you know how much this sucks. I'm not suspended," He flipped a hand towards Marty's own. "I'm done. The only reason I haven't gone crying to Jor, begging for him to fix me up with some mad-doctor voodoo, is because I know he can't do anything. No one can. My Dad looked at me the same way he did when I broke my leg in high school- and that time, it was broken for a day and a half. I mean, seriously," He looked at Marty with earnest. "What am I supposed to do?"
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Post by Marty Jordan on Jan 15, 2017 19:04:51 GMT -6
"Yeah, you're right. There's probably no reason for her to be interested in you beyond your speed." Marty rolled his eyes. "That's why we made her a birthday cake and I put up with the Trickster and that's why you went on a damned date with her. Because she has no interest and would rather kill you."
A sigh came from the young pilot. Walt was being slightly over dramatic and Marty wanted to slap him around a little. "You've only told me 15 times. In fact, it's so many times, I'm starting to wonder if I was there with you."
The overreaction about the plane was not where he wanted to go. He just looked at Walt. "I've never seen a power ring for depression, but I'm fairly sure that you're trying to find one. It should be here any minute." The comment about the suspension hit home and Marty made a face.
"That was a low blow." He sighed. "Why don't you see about having Barry give you a little juice to see if maybe you can get a jump start? Like when you put a manual car in neutral and give it a push to start it." Marty looked at his phone. He could call Lydia. That might prevent a homicide.
"How about I call Lydia? She can come over and try to talk me out of killing you. It could be fun. We can all go out or something."
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Post by Walter West on Jan 15, 2017 19:39:54 GMT -6
Walt winced slowly as he realized a moment too late that his words had offended his friend. Still, he couldn't work up an apology; his friend, after all, was getting his powers back.
"Yeah, believe me, I played several good games of Car Battery with Dad. He couldn't do it, and I'm sure as hell not going to Barry. Maybe if I thought he had a shot, but otherwise..." He let himself trail off.
Finally, as Marty offered (threatened) to call Lydia, Walt, with a Herculean effort and a groan to match, rolled out of bed. His stained red sweatshirt from the Flash museum, complete with the emblem on his chest, was several sizes too big, matching his baggy sweatpants.
"No Lydia. No no. But you're right, I do need to get out of here. Let's go punch bad guys." He rode a spurt of energy, grateful for any momentum he could gather. He also anticipated criticism, glancing down at his outfit.
"C'mon, these are my workout clothes. The Man in Blue taught me at least enough for me to handle at least a watered-down scumbag. Besides," Walt strode to a nearby dresser, pulling one of the drawers open. "I've been working on a little somethin'-somethin'. He palmed a sphere about nine inches in diameter and tossed it into the single wide pocket of his hoodie.
At his door, he decided to level with Marty.
"Buddy, please. I need this. And before you tell me it's dangerous, or that we'd be stupid to go, or that the blood is seeping through my bandages-" (the shoulder of his sweatshirt did in fact feel rather warm and sticky) "-Let me just tell you that I'm about to lose my shit in here. It takes me days to read a single book. Days." Walt issued a small smile.
"And I'm sure my dad won't turn the pizza guy away."
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Post by Marty Jordan on Jan 15, 2017 22:13:30 GMT -6
"There's no guarantee. You know how the Guardians of the Universe are."
Marty should have realized that Walt had tried this sort of thing with his father. It only made sense. He sighed, wishing that he saw the obvious angles and had a way to fix it. He only half heard Flash's protests, but then the protests about calling Lydia made him smile and come back to the here and now. Then Walt pitched his insane idea.
"What? No. That's a horrible plan. You don't even look like you can stand up on your own. Do you know what Lydia would do to me?" He sighed. Walt had some basic hand to hand training and Marty was pretty well trained thanks to Vath. There was a small chance. His eyes locked on the small sphere. Marty could hear the pleading in Walt's voice.
"I'd like to tell you all of those things, but fine. Something real simple. No super villains and no entire gangs of people." At the comment about taking Walt days to read a book Marty looked up from his text book.
"Days, you say? Whole days. My god. That must be horrible." He closed the book and stood up. "Let's go. Before I regret this any more than I already do."
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Post by Walter West on Jan 15, 2017 22:40:39 GMT -6
Walt beamed for the first time in weeks and slapped a hand on Marty's shoulder.
"Greenie, my dear, dear friend, you've made an old cripple very happy." His goofy smile felt revitalizing in and of itself. "And it's a deal. No gangs. No supers. Strictly purse-snatchers and tax evaders!" Hurrying to the door, he felt a facsimile of the old confidence that resulted from his old abilities, and he spoke at a pace to match the old energy.
"It's been way too long, anyway! Frankly, it seems to me now that this is a whole element of our profession that I've been neglecting. I mean, I'm sure I don't have to explain this to you, what with your background in imagineering, but being able to do a load of laundry in the time it takes for some crazy to land a punch kinda softens your edges, y'know? It'll really do me some good to be out there. The only thing is idunno where we're gonna find any ne'er-do-wells this time of day. What is it, like nine in the morning?"
Walt opened the front door and was met with blackness, interrupted only by the faint glow of streetlights. He stared for a moment before turning to look to Marty.
"Is it still March?" He shook his head. Oh well!
Then he blinked and asked a follow-up question.
"Do I have a car?"
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Post by Marty Jordan on Jan 17, 2017 12:55:59 GMT -6
As Flash went on, Marty listened and shook his head. This was definitely a bad idea. He could hear Lydia's voice in his head expressing her displeasure. But the way it had energized him into motion was a good start. He hadn't seen Walt up and moving like this in days. The Lantern pinched the bridge of his nose. Walt wouldn't know what to do with a tax-evader if he walked up to them.
Walt walked over to the door and Marty sighed. "It's 10:30 at night. And it's February. You're a mess, Walter."
The second question threw him for a loop. "No, you've never owned a car. I don't even think you have a license. Luckily, I have the rental outside. And I gave the driver the night off." He paused. "Come to think of it, I don't even think Lydia has a car. But don't quote me on that. I've never asked."
Marty opened the door to the Ford Mustang and climbed inside. He waited for Walt to get in and then he started the car up and threw a CD in the disk drive. Some Nights, by Fun queued up. As Marty put the car in gear and pulled out of the driveway, he turned to Walt.
"Where are we going? And do you have a mask or something?"
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Post by Deleted on Jan 17, 2017 13:08:58 GMT -6
Today could be called strange for many reasons. Aaron had been on quite a crime spree the longer the day went on. Mainly because nobody was stopping him. By this time he would've already gotten a visit from the Flash himself giving him a stern lecture and beating, taking the stuff he had taken and given him to the authorities. Like this morning, after his usual run to the flash museum and back he took several magazines and wallets from passer-by's, sure this usually meant no Flash to react but he sometimes did or saw a red blur flash by. Then that was that he robbed a liquor store with a fake gun, and still no Flash. Aaron was then curious and started pushing the limit. He then robbed as much jewelry as he could from a store, before the cops would arrive, to give to Mal as a gift and fence off for money and even the pizzeria Mal met him in lost around 50 bucks and confessed that he didn't stop by for his daily pizza. Flash was nowhere to be seen.
So this called for Aaron to do something he's always wanted to do and nobody was going to stop him this time! He was going to vandalise the Flash Statue downtown. He stopped on his way to Walmart to get several spray cans. He got them in neon pink, neon blue, neon green and black and put them in a backpack along with some C4, flash, and smoke grenades. Having learned some things from Owen, he decided to do a more stealthy approach, so he waited to do it in the evening rather than in broad daylight. So after getting himself a nice dinner consisting of a homemade burger Mallory affectionally named "Garlic Death", Aaron set off towards the Flash statue.
He arrived at the Flash statue in a little less than no time, but that was mainly due to the fact that he flew there on hover boots. He never really liked looking at the thing, he always had his doubts about why a city would building something like this to a hero, and when looking up at the face, Aaron smiled, reached into his backpack and pulled out the black spray can and a red bandana.
"So... Flash... Handlebar or pencil." He said waiting for a reply while shaking the can up and down.
"Strangely quiet aren't ya? No quick retorts? Then Handlebar it is." Aaron said floating up towards the face of the statue, with a snicker
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Post by Walter West on Jan 17, 2017 13:48:28 GMT -6
Walt derped with confidence.
February. Hm.
"Oh, you gave your driver the night off? I guess the butler will just have to do it."
Some Nights gave him a little boost. "Ah. High school. Best two days of my life. Hey," he perked up a bit at a fond memory. "You remember when you got into that fight with the football team? With, like, the whole football team? And then I gave them food poisoning by spiking their Gatorade at homecoming?" He reached around and rummaged in the backseat, then the glove compartment, then the console looking for food as he maintained the conversation.
"No, I'm thinkin' I'll just give 'em the bread and butter. The villainy have been denied the glory of my ginger mug for too long."
He thought a moment as he returned to normal posture.
"I almost hate to say it, but why don't we swing around to the museum? I'm sure there will be some interesting rumors floating around, and I'd love to see if the hoi polloi haven't burned the place to the ground yet."
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Post by Marty Jordan on Jan 28, 2017 16:39:49 GMT -6
"Well, sir. I'll take you where you want to go. Not sure that I'll bring you back though. You might be walking your ass back."
Marty was humming along to the song with Walt until the Speedster brought up the unpleasant memory of that homecoming party. "Hey, it wasn't the whole team. Just the first string. And if that guy didn't want a fight, then he shouldn't have been talking crap about Lydia." Marty tapped the console under his elbow as Walt rummaged. "Protein bars." He said absently, while the car continued towards no destination in particular. "She was pissed off at me for like a month. Didn't know why I was picking a fight with the quarterback and thought that I got what I deserved. That was a lousy month for me."
The car took a turn and started heading towards the Flash Museum. "I feel like heading there with no costume is a bad idea. I mean, I know that your ginger mug doesn't scare petite women with weather powers off, but I'm not sure if that's more of a character flaw on her part or not." He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't go on dates and bake birthday cakes for criminals. And no, that time on Zeta Reticuli doesn't count."
"Also, hoi poloi? What time period are you from? Are you and Jay Garrick hanging out again?" He flipped the blinker on and took the car off the exit for the Flash Museum. "I feel like I should probably point out yet again, what a bad idea this is. It's my job as the XO of this operation."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2017 3:54:06 GMT -6
Aaron whistled to himself as he drew a very nice moustache over the statue Flash's smug face. He took a step back and looked at his handy work.
"You know, this actually looks good on you. Do you like it Flash?" Aaron then thought for a while smirking and started to respond to his own question in a Mexican accent.
"Si señor" Aaron then flew down and took out the neon blue and drew an upside down triangle on his chest, before taking out the neon pink and drawing a reverse S on the symbol.
"It feels odd giving you the superman symbol. Is it odd? he asked at the statue as he drew a giant dick coming out of the top of the triangle which was aimed at the Flash's smiling mouth. Then moved down and sprayed two balls on the sides of the triangles.
"As odd as it is to give me Spanish accent and talking with yourself, señor Trickster." Aaron floated back up and looked the statue in its cold metal eyes.
"Touché Mr. Roboto." He said as he took out the neon green and sprayed it across his eyes. He encircled the head and looked at the weird thunder bolt things around the statues ears.
"These things are really stupid you know? Like it makes you look like an ass." He said shaking up the neon blue. Before aiming it at the bolts
"Almost as stupid as your hair." Aaron started spraying the thing with the blue making little butts and dicks all over it
"Uncalled for! It's rude." He said as he switched to the neon pink and the neon green making smiley faces around and on the ears.
"Well, technically you just insulted yourself, I mean I am just basically you with a funny accent and..." Aaron stopped in dead spray.
"Man... I miss Owen." He said continuing to spray more in silence giving the same treatment to the other ear, half way through whistling the tune of 'hall of the mountain king' to himself.
"Head Done!" He said to no one in paticular.
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Post by Walter West on Feb 6, 2017 21:58:24 GMT -6
Walt whipped around to face Marty and flicked a warning finger at his copilot. Through a mouth full of protein bar, he tried a playfully serious tone.
"Hey, you leave Jay out of this. That guy is the OG," Walt took another bite of his snack, further enhancing the challenge of understanding him as he spoke with a full mouth. "And his taste in music is bomb."
Walt swallowed as they pulled off the exit. "I don't know what you're so worried about." He glanced down at the crumbs decorating his baggy Flash hoodie, but made no effort to brush them off. He stared for several seconds before turning to Marty once again.
"Alright, whatever," he conceded impatiently but still in good humor. "So I'm not hitting the gold standard. But I still got THESE GUNS!" He deftly pulled back the left sleeve of his hoodie to reveal his very average-looking arm. He slowly dipped his index finger to align with Marty's forehead before pulling it back with a whispered pew!.
As they reached the Museum, Walt's smile and his focus on the conversation both faded simultaneously. As they approached the plaza at the entrance of the building, Walt groaned and swung his head into his hands. Those f***ing dumb boots..., he thought.
"Alright," he said shortly as Marty pulled to a halt. Walt exited the car and strode towards the tiny man defacing the statue.
"HEY!" He shouted, on the warpath, pointing a threatening finger at the Trickster as he hovered by the statue. "Hey, you little shit! You get your C-list ass away from-" Walt cut his thought and his stride mid-threat, anticipating Marty's reaction. He sighed, still staring at the kid a few dozen yards away, calculating. Then he shouted again, in an altered, measured tone.
"You got any more paint?"
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Post by Marty Jordan on Apr 1, 2017 21:25:44 GMT -6
"I wasn't... Oh, never mind. Talking to you sometimes is like arguing with this dashboard. Except, that I can occasionally get it to do what I want if I press the right buttons."
Marty's concerns over the operation were overriding everything else. It was more of a fear for Walt than anything else. Walt had some basic hand to hand combat, but didn't operate without powers too often. It was honestly, Marty thought, his one flaw. He relied too much on those powers and that was why he was the way he was today. Marty smirked and shook his head. "Gold standard? You're not even hitting the aluminum foil standard, right now. You look like a homeless person."
He put the car in park and sighed. "You forgot to load those guns." Marty pinched the bridge of his nose, looking at Walt's rather average looking arms. "You don't even compare Adam, nevermind Captain America." Not for the first time, Marty found himself wishing he could access his ring. Looking outside the car, Marty saw the Trickster spray painting the Flash statue. The last time he'd seen Trickster was on the birthday of that Mallory girl.
"Looks like your girlfriend's pal is out late. I don't think you have quite the same affect on this guy though. Unless you've been keeping more things from me, than I thought."
As Walt exited the car, Marty gave one more sigh. He found himself wishing they'd brought Lydia along. Or Jor. Or the National Guard. Anyone really to give them reinforcements against a better armed opponent. Marty pulled the hood of his own hoodie up and walked a few steps behind Walt. He wasn't really sure how this plan was going to go, but he was pretty sure it was going to get messy and then down right dangerous in a few. It was going to be an interesting evening to say the least.
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Post by Deleted on Jul 3, 2017 6:29:29 GMT -6
Aaron was kinda lost in the painting and didn’t realise the Ford Mustang pull up. He was too busy writing boobiez on the Flashes chest and drawing two very badly looking neon green flash symbols with a circle around then and line through them. He was humming ‘In the hall of the mountain king’ as he did. His ears perked up as he heard someone shout at him. Shouted somethings that were less than nice and certainly not christian. He looked down and some a skinny Redhead shouting up at him, and some guy in a green hoodie who looked threatening but weirdly defenseless. He flow down closer to them and landed on the hood of the car. If anymore unfriendly words were thrown he could just smash in the window.
”Hey! I might be a C-list villain, but at least I have a soul!” he said in quite an angry tone which then suddenly dissipated to calmness as he took off his bag and opened it. Sure he was prone to quick bouts of anger or high tense emotions due to a lot of things. If they were going to be cool and calm so was he. Plus might’ve been a couple of hoodlums wanting to help vandalise. Vandalism is basically a victimless crime anyway. ”and yeah I got some pink, blue, green and black. I was going to try and paint Green Lantern sucking off the big gold man up there because… well have you seen the tabloids? I honestly doubt that Green Lantern is dating Captain Marvel, and the Flash’s whole schtick with Mal is just for show so that they can hide their relationship. Plus Captain Marvel is too good for him, I mean she’s a 10, he’s a” He said contemplating how attractive Green Lantern actually was. ”Gonna say 8.5. She can still do better than Tweedle Dumber. I’m not saying me, please she’s too innocent and wouldn’t get near that with a 100 foot pole because someone that clean has definitely something to hide… Sorry Rambling… What’s up with you too?” He said having strolled his ramble across the car roof to the back and back again.
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