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Post by doc on May 25, 2019 20:33:17 GMT -5
SEPTEMBER 2, 1941  "In our factories and shops and arsenals we are building weapons on a scale great in its magnitude. To all the battle fronts of this world these weapons are being dispatched, by day and by night, over the seas and through the air. And this Nation is now devising and developing new weapons of unprecedented power toward the maintenance of democracy ... Our vast effort, and the unity of purpose that inspires that effort, are due solely to our recognition of the fact that our fundamental rights - including the rights of labor — are threatened by Hitler's violent attempt to rule the world." - President Franklin D. Roosevelt, Sept.1 1941 Radio Address "And here in our own Central City, people are waking up to a day of absolute wonders and terrors. We've grown used to some sights over the years. Central has seen more than a few adventuring crimebusters and mysterious vigilantes using parlor tricks to appear something more than human. But this is not that. We are seeing what can only be described as miracles. Reports of a man walking through a hail of gunfire to stop a group of Bunds from torching a Jewish Temple in Little Estonia; Something preying on bank robbers in the docks. And then there's the flying woman - the one our friends at WKCR have dubbed "The Sentry". Since she showed up three months ago, she's been a busy gal! Pulling people out of no less than three fires, stopping 2 major bank heists, and bringing down a group of Soviet Saboteurs and exposing the corruption of Councilman Tennyson! What to make of all of this? We'll let you decide!" - The Central City Gazette Editorial, Sept. 2, 1941. Alex grunted as the light hit his eyes. Another late night - he had been lucky to get home to bed without anyone noticing, but he was still tired. Still, he knew he needed to get to work soon - and the false back brace and mechanisms were lying on the chair next to him - his disguise and prison all in one. The Hunter was already awake. He was packing shells for his weapons while reading the newspaper, carefully circling articles that caught his interest. A city like this had no shortage of prey for a man like him... It was Charlotte Davidson's favorite view. The city in the early morning from above the clouds. She let her cape flap in the wind; not for the first time did she wonder how this miraculous fabric never seemed to get dirty, how any tear seemed to mend itself. She simply saw the view and was happy. But she knew it couldn't last. She needed to report in. |
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Post by yendorj on May 28, 2019 3:00:04 GMT -5
Central City, not his home, but where the return trek ended. The trail had gone cold, but the opportunity for targets, rich. Something was coming, that would strike the country gave him life. What, where, and when, The Hunter didn’t know, the trail went cold too quick. No matter, Central City is ripe with game, challenges, elements that need removing, not for any singular clause, though patriotism did sing in his veins, but the thrill. Always the thrill. Life, death, or cripple. His decision alone to exercise. He had learned in Europe, War Is Hell, and sometimes the wrong target suffers the wrong fate, such is life. Returning stateside, he focused his attentions on opportunities more prone to be anti-American, from supposed saboteurs to war profiteers. www.oldradioworld.com/shows/Fireside_Chat_with_Franklin_D._Roosevelt.php |
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Post by dakota on May 28, 2019 13:46:48 GMT -5
The floor creaked as Alex got up, just as it always did. Luckily he was not upstairs, or he would never be able to sneak in and out without his parents knowing. He looked at the brace and cursed it under his breath. In the beginning, Uncle Oleksandir had given him his freedom with the back and thigh braces, but now they were more hindrance than anything. It was far easier to put on now, but once he locked himself in, he was limited to how he could move. He hid the brace beneath his shirt and finished dressing before stepping out of his room. The warm smells of the family bakery filled his nose, and he could here the commotion of the morning customers trying to be the first to buy their daily goodies as he poured himself a glass of milk.
"Did you sleep at all?" His father Dieter asked as he looked up from reading the Gazette and sipping on his morning coffee.
"I thought I did Father." Alex replied. "Anything interesting?" He asked as he drank half the glass in one gulp.
"More nonsense about flying girls stopping crime." Dieter replied, returning to his paper. Every morning was the same. Father was up to start the early baking, then mother took over and opened the storefront until his older sister Rose relieved her. Then Father made enough noise to wake Alex when he took his coffee break. Alex did not need to know it was just after seven. "Are you going to stay to eat this morning? Your uncle will understand if you are a few minutes late now and again."
"Father, that's like you asking Mister Owens of Officer Sullivan to come back later because you want a little extra time in bed." Alex replied. " Besides, I always stay home on Sundays, and even try to help out where I can."
"I know son. Just giving you a hard time." Dieter looked up and smiled. " Have a good day at work. Be home for supper."
"I will." Alex nodded. He finished his milk before stepping through the door that separated their home from the bakery, " Morning Mother." He said as he passed by. "Off to work." He said, pilfering two fresh buns.
She shook her head, "You could at least put some butter or honey on them."
"The pigeons don't like anything on them." Alex smirked, and then burst out laughing at the horrified look on her face. “Gotcha Mom.”
“Go to work, brat.”
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Post by Mierin on Jun 3, 2019 21:58:54 GMT -5
Charley smiles to herself as she partakes in her favourite view. 'I will NEVER get sick of this!' she thinks to herself. Alas, it was time to go to work though, luckily, Charley loved her job so it never really felt like work. It also helped her keep up on what was going on in the city and enabled her help more people as her alter ego, Sentry. After flying back to the ground, Charley heads inside to get dressed for work - she quickly dresses in one of the tailored suits that her Aunt Viv got for her as a gift when she started her job at the radio station, she pairs the suit with a pair of modest heels. Making sure to put on her black rimmed eyeglasses, Charley rearranges her hair style into a modest braid with bangs so no one would recognize her as Sentry.
Heading downstairs, Charley calls out to her parents, "Ma? Pop? I'm heading out to work now!" Charley's dad is out in the field farming, but her mother comes out and says, "I packed you a lunch! Have a good day, dear! Stay out of trouble!" Charley smiles and kisses her mother on the cheek. "Thanks" She chuckles at the second part and adds, "I'll do my best!"
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Post by doc on Jun 5, 2019 22:07:24 GMT -5
Charley raced out of the farmhouse as best she could, and managed to make the bus heading into the city from the farmhouse. Cranston Bus Lines had set up a stop right outside her parents driveway, so it was very convenient, and a great way to see the city as she commuted from the family farm. The bus snaked along its path through the residential section, then through Little Estonia and Koreatown before hitting the City Center.
The WKCR offices were located in a pre-Civil War Post Office building that had been converted earlier to serve as offices for the budding news giant. As Charley entered the offices, the buzzing of activity and excitement and activity would have filled her up even if she couldn't hear the thoughts and feelings of others.
She passed by the Actors studio, and could hear Darren Drisdoll, who provided the voice of the eponymous lead of "The Dark Rider" radio drama. Of course, he also had let Charley know he was available for a "private interview" whenever it suited her. She moved quickly.
The newsroom was her sanctuary. The office was located in the very center of the building. The reporters were on the ground floor, where they would bring news from the wire or their own reporting to the editors on the mezzanine level. From there it would go down the hall to the broadcast booth, where the elder statesmen of the station, the anchors, would deliver the news to the people.
"DAVIDSON! FRONT AND CENTER!" Her editor bellowed. Edward Costner walked out. The News Editor made a point of stomping the old hardwood floor with his prosthetic right foot. "Flatfoot" Costner had cut his teeth as a reporter in the Great War, though it cost him his leg from just below the knee. He didn't let it slow him down.
"Our great Benefactor, Young Mr. Powell, is going to be unveiling his new project for the War Department today. Get me statements!" You knew it was not a request.
***
The white lettering stood out from the glass "MAYERTS' GYM". Inside you could see a middle aged man doing push ups with a surprising amount of lead weights strapped to his back. You knew this was Augustus Mayerts, and this was the man you needed to talk to about your next target.
***
Alex entered the shop. His Uncle gave him a silent nod to acknowledge his entry. "You know what to do - get to work."
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Post by Mierin on Jun 9, 2019 22:28:00 GMT -5
Charlotte smiles to herself as she takes in the chaos of the newsroom. While being in the sky surveying the city was her favourite place to be, this was a close second. She turns to attention when her boss belows her name, having heard him coming already thanks to that stomping of his and replies, "Yes, sir, Mr. Costner. Right away!" Charlotte then heads to where Mr Powell is going to unveiling his new project. 'Hopefully I can get some good quotes!' Charlotte thinks to herself.
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Post by dakota on Jun 10, 2019 21:58:18 GMT -5
"Yessir." Alex replied. "Morning."
With no one else around, he loosened the buckles on his back support as went to his work area in the back of the shop. Waiting for him was a pair of western boots that had definitely seen better days, while at the end hung the belts he had cut the day before and needed to be stitched. He hated stitching more than anything, or more to the point, he hated the machine that his uncle bought to do the stitching. It was painfully slow, and tended to need constant adjustments. But, it was not baking bread at home, so he did not complain as he got to work repairing the boots.
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Post by doc on Jun 14, 2019 22:06:53 GMT -5
The hunter entered the gym. Augustus looked up at him. He could see a kindred spirit in the man, and for a moment, he was checking his line of sight; he knew he did not want to fight the man at close quarters.
"So you're him?" Mayerts tossed aside the plates as he stood up. "My brothers think you and I might be alike - both men who like a challenge. I don't see it. I see someone who doesn't face his foes - he takes them out before they know he's coming." He sniffed. "But fine, let's get to it." He walked around to a desk at the back of the gym, never turning his back to you. "Paul Powell is giving a speech today, and someone's out to get him. Someone bad. Think you can handle someone who thinks he can assassinate the country's 9th richest man?"
***
"Careful with the boots - they were...well, they belonged to Matthew's grandfather, Caleb. Unique, important." Alex's uncle cautioned. "And what are you planning to do with rest of your day? Get in more newspapers? I know many people in this city who need punching, perhaps I should make a list?" He chuckled.
***
Powell Industries had eaten the Industrial sector of town. The Depression had shut down most of it, leaving it wide open for takeover at a pittance. Charlotte had heard from her "aunts" and "uncles" that while Paul Powell's move had made them even more rich, they felt it might not have been worth it to have so much power in the hands of one company.
The stage had been set up in front of the original Powell Aerospace factory hangar door. Patriotic banners were strung across makeshift outdoor stage that made it perfect for pictures. No doubt as Paul Powell intended.
Paul was an impressive figure; only 25 and already a captain of industry. He was a tall, rake thin and neat, from his slicked back hair, to his sharp, narrow eyes framed by a perfectly maintained beard that gave him the appearance of a lion. He was decked out in perfect steel grey Brooks Brothers suit with wingtips at the ready as he paced the stage, checking the gold pocketwatch that was the only physical inheritance of his uncle, the company founder. He looked out at the crowd and smiled, but it didn't give Charlotte any comfort - Paul might have been a boy genius, but she didn't trust that predatory glare.
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Post by dakota on Jun 17, 2019 8:44:54 GMT -5
Alex paused and looked at the nearly worn out boots. He had heard of Caleb, and had even been taken along with Uncle Lex once to pay respects. "Yessir." He said and began to clean the boots thoroughly with a slightly damp sponge and saddle soap. Cleaning and polishing were his least favourite orite task, since in the beginning it was all he could do. However, he took his work seriously and he knew what was expected of him.
"Really?" Alex perked up in surprise before realizing he was being teased about the list. "Not funny, Uncle Lex. I thought I was looking after things here today? I over heard you on the telephone talking about an announcement today by Mr. Powell, and it sounded like you wanted to go. Only thing I had thought about doing was stopping to see Mr. Mayerts to figure out what I'm but he said he will be tied up with a client."
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Post by Mierin on Jun 18, 2019 21:42:20 GMT -5
Maintaining a pleasant smile on hr face, Charlotte listens to Powell's pacing, waiting to her his speech. While she knew a lot of people liked him, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about him that she couldn't trust. Because of this, she had no trouble covering his press conferences so she could try to determine his motives and what he had planned.
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Post by yendorj on Jun 18, 2019 22:04:23 GMT -5
"Up close, from a distance, death is death. Paul Powell, industralist, pro-U.S.? I know him well. You say someone's trying to knock his piece off the board?"
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Post by doc on Jun 19, 2019 22:38:08 GMT -5
Mayerts snorted. "Not quite that simple - he's a fan of Lindbergh. Figures we should just fight the Japs, leave Germany alone." He started dusting the counter with a used cloth. "But yeah, someone's going to take a shot at him. I'd go take care of it myself, but I have other things to handle these days..."
You hear a baby's cry coming from a back room. Augustus smiled.
***
"Powell? Seems only thing he inherited from his uncle other than money was a tendency for half-truths. Even if he made me rich - he is not worth it." Lex spat out. "First thing your aunt and I did when we found out how he bought up old factories - how he manipulated, cheated? We took our money out." He shook his head. "Maybe it was not best choice - gave him control. But we put the money to other things - make our communities whole. As whole as they can be in these times. And you?" He pointed with a belt buckle. "You are going to learn how to fight - smarter than any of us - not just stronger. So you want? You go down to that Powell show. But you don't do anything - just sit, watch, maybe write down what you see and what you learn and think. Then tell me or your Aunt."
***
You could see that other men were on the stage with Powell - men in suits, smiling and shaking hands. Charlotte recognized them - men from the War Department, but civilians. You noted, not the for the first time, that despite the claims of the President and others, that the US Army wasn't particularly big, and that all these wartime munitions makers were making a lot of material for more men than even the combined armies of the US and UK had. That fact began to stir some dark thoughts in Charlotte's head about who was making these choices, and on whom's behalf.
She was elbowed in the ribs - not that she could feel it, but she knew from experience that it was the kind to make her move. "What are you doing here, Davis? Mom let you off the farm?"
It was Sonny Eastman, from the Central Gazette. You had gone to school for a while and he'd even asked you out on what had been perhaps the most boring evening of your life. After all, what kind of evening could it be when you couldn't get in a word edgewise over the course of 4 hours?
Eastman chuckled, causing a gut too generous for a man of his age to shake in a suit that was too poor even for a reporter's salary.
"So, going to ask him where he gets his suits?"
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Post by yendorj on Jun 21, 2019 22:44:31 GMT -5
At the mentioning of fighting a limited war, Loren seems to rankle. "He's a damn fool to think that. Germany, Japan, Italy, stopping one will not halt the war. All three need to be fought." Pauses as if to say something more, smiles instead hearing the baby cry. "Ah yes, the cloth ball and chain, shed when they become adults. Something I've never hunted, children. So innocent, and hoping to have some of my own one day."
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Post by Mierin on Jun 24, 2019 22:02:04 GMT -5
Refusing to give ground, Charlotte just glares at Sonny in pretense that his elbowing her bothered her. "Of course not." She replies civilly, though just barely. "I'm here to get some quotes from Mr. Powell for Mr.Costner regarding his future plans for Powell Industries."
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Post by dakota on Jun 24, 2019 22:28:43 GMT -5
"Sorry Uncle, I wasn't trying to upset you." Alex replied sheepishly as he continued cleaning the boots for linseed oil treatment. Nervous and distracted by Uncle Lex, he knocked over his dish of soapy water on the floor. "Oh no," he grumbled before leaving his work to get down and clean up his mess. Luckily the old wooden dish he used was tough, and undamaged. He put it back on his work station and went back to cleaning up the spilled water, only to stop when Lex complimented his potential, then looked at his uncle in disbelief.
"Me? Go to the announcement? " He eyes widened with shock, "No thank you, you know I don't like going around crowds, and I have to wear my brace." He curled up his nose, then resumed. "People go to something like that because its an opportunity, or because they had some interest invested. I don't have either really, so I'm better off getting back to work, don't you think?"
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