New York Harbor

        New York Harbor is bustling with activity. A major city, it has a
lot of sea-faring traffic coming in and out through the Harbor. The city
tries to keep the harbor clean, but often fails in the attempt. The
warehouses can be seen lining the piers in this portion of town, and it's
obvious that this isn't the best area of town to be around.

Sandy Hawkins
	Reasonably tall, but nonthreatening at first and second glances,
this young blond man with touseled curls has an easygoing demeanor about
him. His - Sand's - eyes are a bright cornflower blue, guarded yet
friendly; his nose is straight and his clean-shaven jaw a bit pointed. The
man's build is that of an adventurer, with powerful shoulders tapering
down to a fit waist and stomach; for those that look more than twice, you
can see that for all his apparent relaxation, he's extremely alert and
aware of his surroundings.
	Sanderson's wearing a plain, standard navy blue heavy cotton suit
and a black tie. The suit jacket is unbuttoned, exposing a spotless
button-down shirt and loose black tie; his oxford collar is ironed
straight, but also loose - it looks like the top button isn't even there.
If he turns suddenly, you can see a leather gun harness under his jacket.
On his feet are worn black dress shoes.
	Strangely, he looks uncommonly pale and his eyes appear a little
greyish where they should be white. His hands look odd, too, with the ends
of his fingers turning a little bluish. In the center of his chest are
several dark spots that look like dried blood, and they ring holes in his
shirt. At the corner of his mouth is a small red trickle.

Jack Knight
        It's almost as if he didn't have a care in the world, the way Jack
Knight's shoulders rest easily along his sides, cool as can be. The black
leather of his coat sweeps gently over those shoulders, open in the front
to reveal an equally black t-shirt which bears a perplexing insignia of a
star. Jack Knight's jet black hair is greased back from his pale skin, and
held against his forehead by a pair of authentic war goggles, the green
lenses still shining brightly amidst the plastic. The man stands lazily,
his lithe frame buried beneath the leather jacket and dusty jeans, torn
slightly at the right knee. A sly grin crosses his face, as the golden
staff glows quietly by his side.

Donna Troy
	The woman before you appears to be in her mid-twenties with a
slender figure that is well toned from regular exercise and keeping in
shape. She has long, ebony hair that flows over her shoulders in obsidian
waves and frames an attractive oval countenance in silken strands. Her
features are classical Grecian in appearance with high cheekbones that
seem to proclaim a Mediterranean heritage. Her eyes are a shade of
sapphire that make a striking contrast to her dark hair and fair
complexion.
	She is currently wearing a pair of blue jeans that hang just off
her hips and hug her trim waistline. Her shirt is a basic white with short
sleeves and loosely conforms to her torso but is cut just so her abdominal
region peaks through on display. On the front of it is a golden eagle
design with its wings outstretched as if in mid-flight. On her left wrist
is a slender sport's watch and on her feet are a pair of black and white
Nike running shoes.


The destruction and carnage are more than disturbing - they're more than
grisly and nauseating - they're frightening. Bodies of men and monsters,
women and water-things, children and creatures lie everywhere, among
debris and disembodied limbs. The only people up and moving are
increasingly disheartened rescue workers, detectives, and city officials -
along with press people and your occasional vigilante. People wondered why
more heroes didn't show up, but when they're told how easily the King of
Atlantis was felled they stop their grumbling and are glad they didn't
lose more of their champions. Someone who doesn't appear concerned in the
slightest is the golden-haired man sitting on the edge of the docks,
dangling his feet above the water and occasionally tossing rocks in. It's
a pose Donna will have seen him in more than once, but not likely Jack -
Jack usually sees him either psycho and getting ready to go out and fight
phantoms or lazing about on the couch with a bottle of Jameson's. 'Cause -
yeah. It's Mr. Sandy Hawkins.

"Wow...you gotta be proud of these folks, risking life and limb to make
sure that everyone makes it through this. And to think they're doing it
without the help of powers. Man, that takes major cahones." Jack says,
using the power of the cosmic rod to survey the scene below. He looks
toward Donna, wondering how it is that the first chance they've gotten to
go out on the town was to witness this death and carnage. "Y'know, it
really disturbs me that we can't find hide nor hair of my lazy-ass
roommate either."

Donna Troy nods from Jack's side and sighs softly,"I still don't quite
understand what's going on. After that whole fiasco with Bart in Florida,
and then I heard what went on in France and Batman...and Aquaman," her jaw
tightens a bit as she doesn't even want to think about it. Or the fact
that right now Wally is still recovering in the Watchtower. "Has Sandy
been miss -- " But then she stops, looking down at the dock and a smile of
relief breaks over her face as for a moment, just a moment, she was
beginning to suspect the worst with all the mayhem that had struck. "Look
-- there!" She points just below to the familiar blonde top on the deck
and smiles, changing her course to come to a landing spot only a few feet
from the contented (though usually surly) Sanderson. "Thank Rhea, you're
safe Sandy. You nearly had Jack and I worried sick," she admonishes
lightly, but at least its good to see the man.

Turning slowly, Sandy offers Donna and Jack an amused smile. "Depends on
your definition of 'safe', Donna. On the one hand, no, I'm not. On the
other hand, I'm probably the safest guy on the planet." He gets to his
feet, moving with a marked stiffness, and tosses the rest of the rocks in
the water then brushes his hands off on his pants. That's when you see him
properly - his eyes, the holes in his chest, his fingers, his pallor. With
a curious look, he inclines his head. "Why weren't the Titans here last
night? I was hoping for more of a showing than some New God, the
outsiders, and this guy who wouldn't stay dead." He pauses. "Oh, and Orin.
Heh."

Jack Knight blinks at the mention of Orin, after moment's reflection on
who the heck Sandy is talking about, but recognition hits him eventually.
"You were involved in that? Is that how you got roughed up, or is this cuz
you weren't on the guest list at Chez Chic again?" Jack says, trying to
keep his tone level as he lowers himself to the docks and looks at Sandy.
"Man, that's gotta smart. Need me to run down to the corner mart and get
something to take off the edge?"

Donna Troy just blinks. What in all the heavens is going on here? Dark
sapphire eyes just stare transfixed as she gets a better view of Sandy.
And its like watching the sun set over the horizon as the realization
traces its way across her countenance. "We -- I mean, Wally...he was -- "
He was nearly killed. Bart's on a rampage, and Sandy -- well, Sandy looks
like he has seen better days. Donna takes a single step backwards, its
more instinctual than anything else. Orin? Did he just talk about the
death of Aquaman...and laugh? She frowns in disbelief. Then her eyes go to
the hole in his chest and seem mesmorized there. "No...." 

"No, it's all right, I don't feel any of it," answers Sandy cheerfully.
"And yeah, Booster Gold shot me a couple of times. It was really annoying
- I mean, what the hell are you supposed to do with someone wearing a
forcefield shoots you? You can't exactly shoot 'em back with any kind of
effect...Dol got him off me, though." The _very_ former Golden Ager shakes
his head, a rueful expression on his face, and casually draws a pistol,
aiming it at Jack, and draws the trigger. It clicks a couple times, and he
nods. "Thought I was out. Damn..." Sandy starts patting his pockets,
looking for another clip, then glances up at Donna. "What happened to
Wally?"

Jack Knight hovers back up into the sky, suddenly unsure of what's going
on. Hell, maybe he's just been out of the loop for too long. "Hey now,
that ain't cool. No reason to pull the caliber on me, buddy. I ain't into
the whole matching tattoos thing, if you catch my drift."

Donna Troy jumps almost instinctively, positioning herself closer to Jack
and more so between the man and Sandy without really thinking about it.
"Have you lost your -- " She doesn't finish the sentence, she can pretty
much guess the answer. She swallows hard, still staring at Sandy. "He was
hurt by someone I believe you're more than familiar with...Pestilence."

The fair-haired zombie hmms? then ohs to Donna, half-disinterested. He
shoves the clip he finds into his gun, and reholsters it, then stuffs his
hands in his pockets and looks pleasantly at his two teammates. "Actually,
I haven't seen him yet - it's that kid Impulse, from Dol's team, right?
I've been down there," he says, pointing into the water, "mostly."
Suddenly he frowns, bringing a hand up to his chest and patting slightly -
oh, shit. There's a bullet hole right over his heart. Sandy looks utterly
stricken for a second, as he claps the hand over the hole. "Oh my God, my
heart's not beating!" A beat. "Oh, heh. I forgot, I'm dead," he grins.

Recognition finally kicks in, and Jack is almost ready to swear a blue
streak if someone calls him blond. Lowering the goggles over his eyes, he
utilizes the light intensification to view Sandy's wounds. "Jesus, man.
Why the hell did you have to go out and do that? Being shot at is one
thing, but getting killed is another. I mean, now I gotta wonder if this
is going to void our lease. Not like I own the place or anything, but
damn. Anyway, where's the mook that did this to ya, and how likely is it
that Donna and I can take care of him?" Jack says, then the name
Pestilence sets in and he streaks into the sky, shouting back. "Be right
back folks, I'm off to find some kid hopped up on speedforce. Don't be
surprised if I shave him bald, though."

Donna Troy looks between the Sandman and then Jack, and then from the
streaking off Jack to Sandman. This is...this is just unreal. She opens
her mouth, but then just swallows. What in all of Hades is going on here.
This isn't making sense, nothing is it should be, its as if the entire
world has simply gone mad. At the display of Sandy, clutching his heart,
she feels a wave of nausea threaten. She wants to tear her sapphire gaze
away from it, but its either morbid fascination or disbelief that will not
allow her to do so for several moment. At last, she looks up into the eyes
of the man before her. "You can't be dead...that's...you can't be...." She
half whispers.

Sandy Hawkins raises his eyebrows. "Impossible? Not at the end of the
world, hon," he says apologetically. Straightening his tie and shrugging
his jacket on a little better, Sandy composes himself. He buttons the
suitjacket, hiding some of the bulletholes, and wipes the blood from the
corner of his mouth. "You might want to catch Jack if he doesn't want to
end up like Wally," he notes matter-of-factly, then looks a bit
nonplussed. "And besides, it was Booster Gold that shot me up. I was
already dead, though. Listen, I've gotta go. I'll seeya later, a'ight?" He
falters a second - "Please don't tell Wes, okay?" - then steps forward and
gives her a brother-in-law-style peck on the cheek. It's extremely cold
and clammy. This done, he dives into the water and doesn't resurface.