#metalfeather

" i'll never understand the appeal of putting a miniature boat inside glass. "

has she spent the past ten minutes poking and prodding the things in his office? yes. some of it is new to her --- or feels new, anyway. some of it is more familiar in that hazy, dreamlike sort of way that thousands of years of memories tend to be. they come back to her in bits and pieces; takes a while for her to rebuild the full picture of each life she'd lived and lost. he always remembers faster. it's the one irritating little thing she never manages to beat him at. like remembering is some kind of competition.

she lifts a hand, as if to pluck the bottle and ship in question off the shelf, but then thinks better of it. afraid of breaking it, maybe. all she knows is that she wouldn't have the patience to make something like that. carter does. from what she can recall, he's always been the more even-tempered one.

after another minute or two, she finds herself perched on the edge of his desk, one foot dangling a few inches above the floor. it's weird; so much of this is weird. does it feel this weird in every life they share? or just this one? she's been through so much already without him.

" then again, i don't have very many hobbies. "

liked for a random supposedly lyric based starter

Despite public support from Lordtech, the Justice Gang, and the vocal majority on social media (#HawkGOAT #QueenKendra #Ken-auraSaunders)? It simply wasn't enough to wash away Kendra's actions in Jarhanphur...

...so she dropped a genocidal creep and turned him into an asphalt pancake, so fucking what?! That really ought to be celebrated... it's like going back in time and assassinating Hitler... a heroic act that's revered for generations!

But those in power, both foreign and domestic, did not see it that way... sure, they couldn't lay a hand on Superman again; Hawkgirl thought? Now there was a metahuman they could make a premium example out of.

And so, this was where the story of Kendra Saunders found itself... inside four crummy walls of a specially designed containment cell in the heart of Belle Reeve Penitentiary; waiting for a trial that may or may not ever truly be received... not with the supposed rumblings of a new prison designed solely with metahumans like herself in mind.

But worries over mere gossip weren't on the docket for Kendra's day... no, it seemed she was being paid a visit; by whomst, though?

This was the question swirling in her mind as she was being escorted to the visitation wing... and brought towards swift resolution as she lays eyes upon a rather familiar pair of glasses and equally recognizable jawline; rounding the corner? Kendra locks eyes with none other than @metalfeather.

Not her first guess, nor her seventh for that matter... yet somehow it was a nice surprise; she'd never tell Carter's ancient ass that.

❝ Not exactly how I pictured catchin' up with ya', Carter. ❞ the Thanagarian jests, trying her best to make lemonade out of some moldy as fuck lemons...

secret identity. --- not accepting

the remark earns @metalfeather a withering stare, annoyance plain on her features once she removes her rain-slicked helmet. she hates wet weather. anyone with feathers would if they had any sense --- she's a hawk after all, not a duck. carter is just lucky he is who he is. anyone else who made a comment like that would regret it immediately.