#heroicvalor

Winn leaned back in his chair as he looked at the computer in front of him, taking a moment as he reconsidered his coding. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, and he knew it needed to be better if he was going to be hacking into the server. A breath escaped his lips as he leaned forward, typing again before pressing the enter key. 

Slowly his virus swept into the network of the government facility, hoping that it would at least cover him long enough to leave this location after he got what he needed. He just needed more information, and he was going to get it soon enough. Not everyone approved of his methods, thought that him exposing the corrupts in system was wrong. But he didn’t care, because he knew what terrible people could do. He watched them drive his father insane, and he wasn’t going to let anyone else get away with it. 

Still he jumped when he heard the door, and the footsteps behind him. He didn’t bother to turn in his chair as he continued to type. “Knocking is considered polite you know.” 

@valorems​ ||  "I want to be your home."

Home. It was a word that Winn never really heard before, or had even felt before. Growing up he only had once place that he was willing to call home, and that ended as soon as it began. He knew that Mon El felt it too. His entire planet was, well getting back home wasn’t really in the cards for him. So when they found each other, they were both lost. But now? Now he was looking at someone who cared about him, valued him, and wanted him to be there with him. 

Send ( ✨ ) if we haven’t interacted yet, but you want to.

remaining in the conference room after a final meeting before they would put their plan into actions tomorrow, she was too lost in her own thoughts to notice she wasn’t alone. someone else hadn’t moved from his place. mon-el. 

most of the times - whenever they were alone - an awkwardness stood between them, ever since they both returned to this century. there had been long talks and a mutual decision was made that though they technically broke up, they would maintain the image of a perfect marriage. it was what they had to do to preserve the alliance between earth and titan until they could think of another way to stop a war from breaking out. still, imra cared deeply about mon-el ( that was something that couldn’t just go away from one day to another ) and they had become a pretty good team over the past years. especially in battle. which was one of the reasons, she believed he would understand her doubts about this mission better than anyone else.

❝ mon-el ⁇ ❞ she addressed him quietly; her hand nervously fidgeted with the legion ring on her finger. ❝ do you really think we are prepared enough ⁇ the last time we weren’t... ❞ they had lost a legionnaire once - imra didn’t want a repeat of that. ❝ i just feel like this is a trap. brainiac always seems to have a bigger plan and what we are going to do... it can’t be that easy. not after everything we already tried ❞

ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵛⁱᵉʷ ¹⁰.² ⁻ ᴱᵀ'ˢ ᵇᵉʰᵉˢᵗ || ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᶠⁱˡᵉˢ.. @heroicvalor​

“Oh, Olivia--our President, I’m sure you remember her. Fabulous bone structure, piercing glare, questionable ideas about taxes that lean a little more right than left, given her political denomination.” Cat waves a hand as a chair scratches along the metal floor of the building, “She doesn’t really like these kinds of things. She feels I’m far more equipped to do her dirty work--like I haven’t seen a thousand horrible Sci-Fi movies that haven’t ended in my own grissly murder based upon the ‘going down into the weird government agent science bunker’ alone, all just because she didn’t want to trod over here to National City.” 

“So let me cut to the chase, I’m obviously here to interview you, Mon-El, at the president’s behest, and let me assure you, I’m good at it, but I also hold a great deal of confidence in your confidence. We’ll do this my way,” She slips out the recorder from her bag, setting it between them, “You still, after all, have rights. One of which is not to incriminate yourself, understood? Say off-the-record if there’s something coming up you’d rather the President not know. Fingers flip through a dossier before tossing it aside like last week’s Vogue. “Hmm, so...let’s get started, shall we?” 

“The world was on fire last year--literally, in the case of my building--when your mother (and the Daxamites) invaded National City like a fashionably-questionable Genghis Khans. Lead, something you’re supposedly allergic to without an insurance plan that covered the lead-version of lactaid, flooded our atmosphere, and should have killed you. The last we knew, you were floating about in outer space, never to return.”

So, let’s ask the question we’re all thinking, shall we?”

is this the kid who’s been running around with supergirl? eyes narrow as bruce observes the man. he’s visibly tense as ever, prepared for a fight as if violence is the only thing he’s ever known. “what do you want in gotham?”