<div class="floatleft">(https://www.soultracks.com/files/stories/teyana_taylor.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>NAME:</strong>Raquel Irvine (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=309416.msg15035652#msg15035652)<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>This (https://www.classyin.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/530x/040ec09b1e35df139433887a97daa66f/g/s/gs557b-l.jpg)<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>August 21, 2020<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>Starts early in the mornin' and ends 'round about noon<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>From her small 1 bedroom apartment (https://homedesignlover.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/1-one-bed-apartment.jpg) to the Secret Sanctuary, Happy Harbor<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Come in and see about bein' a hero? Don't mind if I do. | Also, how secret can it actually be if I know about it??<br/><strong>MOOD MUSIC:</strong>Bounce-Kida Kudz ft Wiley (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7UhUyXEQR8&list=PL3oW2tjiIxvTGeaFXENtMdhdOrbRoM4lj)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>OPEN | Damian Wayne<br/><br/><hr/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Before..</strong></div><br/><em>'Dang, what the hell is that SOUND??'</em>The thought was there and gone, barely a blip at the bottom of her conscious mind before her hand had lashed out and batted the stupid alarm clock off of the stand next to her bed. It hit the wall with a ridiculously loud CRASH, completely unexpected, you know, seeing as it was JUST an itty bitty alarm clock. That sound, more than the annoying beep and the pain in her fingers, caused her to roll from her bed with a mutter of supreme unhappiness. Dark eyes glared at the old fashioned wind-up clock which seemed to stare balefully up at her from its spot on the floor.<br/><br/>"Shut it!"<br/><br/>Five minutes later she was in the bathroom getting ready for the day and fifteen minutes after that, she was dressed for a jog and out the door where running became it's own methodical sort of thing as both dopamine and adrenaline were released into her system in slow, steady amounts. Only then did she allow herself to work through the last few days and wonder just where in the hell her boy had gotten to. He usually told her when something hinky was about to go down and had for time out of mind. Hell, he was the ONLY person she'd ever told about her belt. He'd helped her fix it so why hadn't she heard from him?<br/><br/><em>'Boy, Ima beat the brakes off you when I see you!'</em>The thought drew a grin to full lips. She wasn't beating a damned thing, not unless she could shut him down before he started up!<em>'Static, for real. Damn. He better call me!'</em><br/><br/>Meanwhile, in the realm of the super people, there had been an idea to form a younger Justice thing and the call had gone out for volunteers. She had debated the idea of joining. After all, she wasn't a meta-human nor did she have a dizzying array of powers, gadgets, gizmos or money. All she had was her willingness to kick someone one until they stopped moving and the power of her belt. It worked in the small out of the way places she liked to protect, hell it worked on NYC when she swung through on her way to (or from) DC or Baltimore...but this thing would be the big leagues!<br/><br/>Obviously, she had talked herself into it.<br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Now...</strong></div><br/>She had decided the quickest mode of transportation would be to fly. NO, she didn't have a cool cape or any of that mess; no beautiful tresses which somehow never managed to be damaged by the prevailing headwinds. What she had was...her belt and enough proficiency to store and collect the energy she needed to get from her small place in upstate New York to Happy Harbor. So, that was what she did...and somehow, by the grace of God and the good man Jesus, she managed to avoid showing up on CPT. It<strong>was</strong>just before noon, after all.<br/><br/>After she ran slim fingers through her disheveled hair and glanced down to be sure she was still properly covered, the diminutive young woman made her way inside.  Dark eyes assessed everyone in the room equally, skipping over the late and greats as they had never had an actual bearing on HER life. She never saw THEM running around Paris Island tryin' to save the good people that were caught in a bad way.<br/><br/>Did she sound bitter? She was. Still, she had a chance now, a real chance to help more people. Best to mind her manners, right? With that, she sauntered forward and spoke to the very first person who looked like he needed some entertaining.  A quick grin presaged her opening gambit.<br/><br/>"So...I thought y'all could use a lil more color. I'm Raquel...but you can call me Rocket."