<div class="floatleft">(http://talknerdywithus.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/08/Felicia-Day.jpeg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>Megan Morse<br/><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong>Miss Martian<br/><strong>Affiliation:</strong>Remnants of the Justice League<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 19:35<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Fish Mooney's bar, booth seat by the back door.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open<hr/><br/>Despite what some of her friends might have believed to the contrary, she didn't enjoy having memories in her head that weren't her own.  Living someone else's life, experiencing past traumas not her own, all this and more was more than sufficient to wear on anyone's sanity if they weren't prepared for the consequences of taking someone's mind apart.  That said, Miss Martian was the exception to the rule since she couldn't keep what she stole for very long, but it was long enough to give her a headache and seek some measure of solitude.  That was part of the reason why she had decided to drop by Fish Mooney's bar, it'd been pretty empty, but given the time of night, even for Gotham's normally active night life, that was a little surprising.  Even so, she wasn't complaining, and while the company that was present left something to be desired, the food was good, but more importantly, so was the alcohol.  It helped calm her racing thoughts, to give her something to focus on behind the migraine that normally accompanied a brain blast.  As for the criminal she had brain blasted, he was already on his way to a Gotham City hospital, with a note attached to his comatose body to have the police send someone to pick him up when he woke up.  If he woke up that was.<br/><br/>The other reason was that it was a well known fact Fish Mooney and most of her associates were part of the ruling crime family of Gotham.  They controlled the criminal underworld, and so Megan was doing a little spy work on the side while she ate and drank, not nearly enough to get drunk by any means, but enough to dull the pain until the memories bled out of her synapses.  A mild telepathic blanket probe of the entire bar would hardly go noticed by any of the patrons, so she kept her ears and mind open for anything of interest.  A simple task for someone with her considerable talents and power.  Still, a part of her mind couldn't help but linger on the past several years as she sighed and rubbed at her temples with her free hand, the other holding a fork loaded with spaghetti halfway between her mouth and the plate before her.<br/><br/><em>How did it go so wrong?</em>It was a question Megan had asked herself many times since Darkseid attacked, wiping out the Justice League, which her uncle J'onn had been a member.  Before that, she'd been an unwilling guest to Lex Luthor, where she had been experimented on by his team of morally bankrupt scientists.  Three months of torture masquerading as science later and she'd been freed, but the damage to her psyche was done.  Just thinking about the bald headed bastard had the spoon on the table turn into a pretzel as she bent it out of shape without putting a finger on it, but a few steadying breaths later had her and the spoon return to a more relaxed state.  Sometimes, it sucked being one of the few good psychics on the planet since there was no one to share her burdens without having to explain everything, which she admittedly wasn't the most socially savvy even on a good day.<br/><br/>Sighing heavily as her headache finally started to disappear, Megan focused on the food in front of her over anything else, letting her psychic probe disappear at the same time.  She still kept her eyes and ears open, on the very slim chance she was noticed for being a little too curious for her own good, but overall she appeared, for all intents and purposes, your average young red headed woman just having a late dinner before heading home for the night.  Of course, being a white martian shapeshifter had its perks since she currently looked like a slender, Caucasian woman in her early twenties with a smattering of freckles on her cheeks.  Amber eyes set in a sharp angular face, D sized breasts, a flat toned stomach, and long slender legs, all of which was contained within her martian bio clothes which had taken on the appearance of a grey hoodie, Jean pants, and a black undershirt.  Scratch the surface however and the heroine would be revealed, but no one here had a reason to suspect a thing.