<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/c8/cf/a6/c8cfa6b1a23455ac544b098de4c4df65.jpg)</div><strong>Character Name:</strong>Carter Hall | Hawkman<br/><strong>Date/Time:</strong>0330 (3:30 AM), March 23, 2016<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Watchtower Bridge<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>This (http://cdn2.hubspot.net/hub/164783/file-18270983-jpg/images/haw.jpg?t=1406658395547)<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Black Canary<br/><strong>Open:</strong>To Hawkman, Hawkgirl, Tempest, Supergirl, Azreal, Raven, Green Arrow<br/><strong>Warnings:</strong>None<br/><br/><hr/><br/><em>Ssshk!</em><em>Ssshk!</em><em>Ssshk!</em><br/><br/>The black whetstone was held between his index and middle fingers with his thumb steadying it from the side. A massive ax sat in his lap, its curved and razor edge directed away from him as he glided the stone across it.<br/><br/><em>Ssshk!</em><br/><br/>The weapon was only one of a countless number of Nth metal weapons that lined the walls of his quarters. He had a collection of ancient weaponry forged and cast from the alloy of his people. The Thanagarian was seated on a bed layered with pelts from numerous beasts and monsters. His brick-like muscles shifted beneath his flesh from his slight and rhythmic motions as his dark brows lowered in contemplation and concentration, his blue orbs reflecting the motions of his hand and whetstone as he dragged it along the wedge. A thoughtful frown was on his lips as his mind delved into longing fantasies about his wife.<br/><br/>As patient as he was to wait for her—wait for the day where she wouldn’t look at him as though he were hollow—it was torture knowing that your heart was right there. His very love and life was within his reach, and yet she didn’t feel the same. He couldn’t force her. If she ever decided to hate him, he wouldn’t have been able to bear it. Ever since they both had been invited to The League, he kept his distance. He kept his affections to himself. He hadn’t made a good first impression trying to convert her back to Shayera Hol by telling her things most people wouldn’t know—shouldn’t have known. She thought that he was a stalker and…a<em>fan boy.</em>That was what she called him.<br/><br/>His frown stretched in disgust at the thought.<br/><br/>Lowering the stone, Carter rocked forward off his bed and rose to his feet. He swung the ax up onto his shoulder and closing his eyes, he started to pace his room. His loose black pants hung comfortably off his hips beneath the defined V of his abdomen. The pants legs had been loose to grant his strong legs room as the material moved like liquid to his leisure stride.<br/><br/><em>I have cursed myself waking so soon</em>, Carter thought. One of them would have awakened eventually, but he had wished that he still had remained ignorant so that he didn’t have to suffer being the first to know.<em>All I can do is keep her safe.</em><br/><br/>Sheira didn’t like when he hovered, but he believed that she held a secret appreciation for his backup. They had always had each other’s backs in the past. He was her Wingman.<br/><br/><strong>Justice League, this is Black Canary…</strong><br/><br/>Carter paused in his pacing and turned an ear to the intercom.<br/><br/><strong>We have a situation, Blackgate Prison is under attack…prisoners are being released…</strong><br/><br/>He shrugged his ax off his shoulder and held it out, turning its edge upward to inspect it. The edge might have been too much for beating criminals. His blue eyes flicked upwards to a hammer on a wall rack. Hm…he might not have been allowed to kill them, but he could hammer some sense back into their skulls. As a cop, he wouldn’t have been able to do such things. Thus, the Justice League was his release.<br/><br/><strong>…and I think…it’s by Superman.</strong><br/><br/>“Superman?” Carter thought aloud in shock. But Superman was in another dimension. Had Darkseid done something to him? Brainwashed him? “I thought you were stronger than that…(he’s speaking as though he were talking to Superman)”<br/><br/>Glancing at his ax again, Carter delicately ran his thumb along the ax blade as his skin parted into a superficial cut. He wanted to use his ax more than ever now, but he knew that he wouldn’t have been allowed to. His upper lip quirked in irritation as a low, exasperated growl left him.<br/><br/>“Something tells me that this mission is going to be a pain in the ass…”<br/><br/>Carter glanced over to his winged helm and harness posted in their place upon the wall. The bronze-like eagle helm shining with a buffed luster in the light of his room.<br/><br/>Hawkman arrived at The Watchtower Bridge, a Nth hammer dangling in his grip. There was a solemn expression on his face as he walked over to stand next to Sheira (out of old habit), but addressed Black Canary: “I received your message. Superman; are you sure? Not Bizarro, but Superman?”