⚡ [ It was raining, a surprisingly good way to accentuate the horrible state the town he was walking through was in. Furrowing his eyebrows, Wally’s green eyes dart from one ruined house to the other, a frown pulling down his lips. It was destruction, obliteration, plain and simple.The people on the island who had likely died long ago, during his childhood or perhaps even before he was born, had been given no chance of escape. He recognizes it, the horrors a buster call can cause. Wildlife is already overgrown around things, and the poor island seems as if it is only still above water from pure determination alone.

Ohara. That was the name of it. The land filled with scholars and archeologists who knew how to read ponyglyphs. Birth place of one of the most wanted people in the world; Nico Robin, and it’s only survivor.

“Just more proof about how the government is utter shit.”

Running a hand through his wild hair, Wally looks at the destruction once more. It just makes his conviction to leave the only life he’d known strengthen. Cipher Pol Number 9, the Cipher group that shouldn’t exist. Clenching his fists and grinding his teeth, Wally tries to forget the acts he was part of, the pain he’s caused, the things he’s done; all before he realized how wrong everything was. Some would argue it wasn’t his fault due to him only being a child when he was taken in and trained to be how he was, the perfect government dog and assassin, but that doesn’t cut it for him.

He’d make it right.

Somehow.

Wally West is twenty three years old and decides he’s leaving the marines.

He turns to head towards his boat, before tensing as he senses someone nearby. His head snaps up and towards the person and his own green eyes meet a pair of blue. Surprised, Wally winces. He’s still in his old uniform, and it feels constricting and disgusting and too marine while this other person is wearing get up that is similar to that of pirates.

icon– [[removed after use]]

@circus-bird

Morri rode up the drive and pulled around to the garage. Her charcoal motorcycle purred softly as she idled a moment before turning it off. She lifted her helmet off and shook out her dark chestnut curls. Swinging her leg off the machine, and adjusted her jacket making her way to the front door. She smiled to herself as she walked up to the door.

Oh my God, I put my pants on inside out I couldn't tell 'cause the lights were out I beat the sunrise again, oh oh oh Neighbors stare, I smile and wave 'cause I just don't care They're probably jealous of my sexy hair And the heels in my hand

Well, don't act like you haven't been there Seven AM with the bed head Everyone knows it's the walk of shame Well, my daddy knows I'm a good boy We all make mistakes in the drunk world Everyone here's done the walk of shame Oh, my brain, Little birdies sound like airplanes How could something so cute cause me so much pain?

He’d been trying to do something good, he’d practiced, even if it had only been on his own, and he’d thought he’d gotten things down enough that he’d be able to actually do something other than mess up for a change. He’d not been here long, but he wanted to be a hero, especially now that he had powers. It didn’t matter if he sucked at using them and had almost zero experience dealing with bad guys of any kind, he wanted to save people. He wanted to also forget that he was now alone in a strange world and didn’t really exist on paper, therefor couldn’t go back to school or be ‘normal’ in any since of the word. He couldn’t even get a job.

It had been a simple thing to do. Go in, find out what was going out, get out, and try and somehow make a change by sneaking the info to the cops in town without their notice. He’d not put into introspect the fact that the gang was a. apparently working with a villain of high calibur[even if he didn’t recognize the guy worth a crap], b. he can’t sneak around at all, and finally c. he sucks at doing anything but eating. Or anyway, it feels like that. Especially since he’d just tripped when he’d been caught, and had gotten tangled in a ton of wires. It was only made worse when he’d been tied up and thrown into some cell room like he was just a piece of trash and couldn’t do anything. He’d landed on his stomach with a oomf and gagged slightly.

Frustrated, with himself mostly, Ronan grits his teeth and closes his eyes tightly, completely hating himself and mentally downing himself the fact that he can’t even vibrate through some stupid ropes. He’s that helpless, and he hates it, but at the same time he’s too cowardly to even begin trying to come to another speedster and ask for help. He doesn’t even realise through his self pitying and anger, that he’s not alone in the room.