PDA

View Full Version : The All-Star Marvel RPG


Pages : 1 2 [3] 4

Eddie Brock
05-11-2010, 05:58 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

GROWING PAINS: PART 5

I pull up the Prodigal Sons program on my computer. "Let's see if we can't find ourselves a stray sheep or two," I say to Jarvis. After typing in my password, the program initiates a scan of the globe. If any Stark Industries technology is missing, it'll come up on this screen. Sure enough, the hits start flying in. This proliferation problem is worse than I expected. I click on one listing and say, "Enhance."

"Sir, I have a lock on the tracker's position," Jarvis announces. A three-dimensional rendering of the Earth pops up, and I see the glowing blue dot signifying the tracker. It's somewhere in South America. "Enhancing now." The globe model zooms to Brazil. The glowing dot is located in the heart of the rainforest. "Acquiring satellite imaging." As the model is layered with satellite images, I see a small farming village in a clearing. The weapons are there.

I hear Happy's voice coming down the hallway. I press a button, and my computer goes to screensaver. Happy walks into my workshop, followed closely by Pepper. They're both laughing. It stirs something inside me. Jealousy? No. Tony Stark doesn't get jealous. "Both of you are here," I announce. "This is good. I was just about to catch Happy up to speed, finally."

"Up to speed with what?" Happy asks in confusion. I look directly at Pepper, and I see she understands. Happy notices my gaze and turns to Pepper. She keeps staring at me. "What's going on?"

"Happy, you remember during our interview when I mentioned Pepper and I were working on a project together?" I ask. Happy nods. I press a few buttons on my computer. The Prodigal Sons program comes back up. "Well, it's time that I showed you the nature of that project." I press another button, and the bookshelf wall of my workshop opens up. As the walls slide back, the Mark I armor comes into view. I see the recognition on Happy's face.

"I am Iron Man."

Happy steps forward, staring intently at the suit. "That was you on the news?" he asks, quickly glancing at me for affirmation. When I nod, he goes back to staring at the armor. "This suit is amazing. You built this, Pepper?"

Pepper nods. "Yes, Happy."

"With my help, of course," Jarvis chimes in.

"Who else knows?" Happy asks, turning to face me again.

"Just the four of us," I explain. "You can understand why I'd want to keep this quiet. I already live under a microscope." I step forward and pat Happy on the shoulder. "I wasn't going to be able to keep this a secret from you, so it's best we have full disclosure. Of course, this makes you a keeper of the secret. You have to promise me this won't leave this room."

Happy nods understandingly.

"Good. Incidentally, it's time to suit up."

Mr. Majestic
05-11-2010, 07:30 PM
The team dashed trhough the falsified forest the long fern leaves whiping their faces as they passed through them. Beast would leap into the air, come through ahead of them crashig down on a raptor as it punched out from cover. Mimic barreled through a set of dinosaurs slicing them from shoulder down to the base of the tail. Sabretooth did his own individual assasination of a holographic extinct dinosaur with a vicous furry of claws, kicks, elbows, teeth and a broken neck by hooking its head under his arm and picking up with great force.
“Weapon X” Haller’s voice came over the inetercom system in the Danger Room. “Logan has been sighted in the New York area combating a freak in red tights” he announced . “Team mobilize.” The holograms disapated, simple fading from exsistence.
“Well team, lets move out!” Victor made his way through the disapearing forest. “I have a pick up to make before we take off, hold the jet.” Victor ran down the hall in the opposite direction of the hanger, towards the elevator and to the mansion’s dorms.

I and the rest of weapon X all make our way to the blackbird. As we walk on the plane Beast and Sage automatically head to the pilots and copilots seat while I and Psylocke take the seats in the back.

I wish Haller didn’t stop us from training I was just getting a hold on my new powers. Oh well looks like we are going on a real mission so I’ll be able to practice on real people.

I then make my claws extend from out of my hand as I begin to enjoy the thought of them digging into someone chest ending their life.

Wait a second this is not me at all. I could never take the life of someone. I then put my claws back in and grab my head trying to get myself together. Something is telling me that when I take these peoples powers they aren’t the only thing I’m getting.

“What do you guys think we are going to have to do on this mission?” I ask trying to ease my mind from the bad thoughts.

“We will know soon enough as our leader Sabretooth returns.” Psylocke replies.

It’s still hard to believe that he is our leader. I never would have thought my life would have turned out this way.

sabetoonth
05-11-2010, 07:52 PM
I and the rest of weapon X all make our way to the blackbird. As we walk on the plane Beast and Sage automatically head to the pilots and copilots seat while I and Psylocke take the seats in the back.

I wish Haller didn’t stop us from training I was just getting a hold on my new powers. Oh well looks like we are going on a real mission so I’ll be able to practice on real people.

I then make my claws extend from out of my hand as I begin to enjoy the thought of them digging into someone chest ending their life.

Wait a second this is not me at all. I could never take the life of someone. I then put my claws back in and grab my head trying to get myself together. Something is telling me that when I take these peoples powers they aren’t the only thing I’m getting.

“What do you guys think we are going to have to do on this mission?” I ask trying to ease my mind from the bad thoughts.

“We will know soon enough as our leader Sabretooth returns.” Psylocke replies.

It’s still hard to believe that he is our leader. I never would have thought my life would have turned out this way.

Victor made hi way back to the lower levels of the mansion, he was uneasy, Haller had a gun with a carbonadium bullet. And that was a threat to Victor. But he had got what he wanted, a mutant on the team he could trust. His Wanda. He started towards the Blackbird, the hanger doors still not open, Victor sniffed from slight paranoia, his eyes went wide as soldiers filed into the hanger. Haller came in after all the men dressed as SWAT ceased to enter.

“Creed” the Colonel spoke in an authoritative tone, “Disobey a direct order, and the Weapon X team has orders to terminate you.” He he walked closer to the large feral-like mutant. “And if you even try to looks at me wrong, ill put this Carbonadium bullet in your skull.” Victor stared down at the Homo Sapien, the team was of use to him. Being shot in the head with a bullet made of a metal that can hinder his mutant healing factor was not of use. “Do I make myself clear you ugly son of a *****?” Haller growled at Creed.

“Crystal, Sir” Victor emotionlessly acknowledged the threat.

“Logan was spotted in down town New York City, get in the air, and get on his trail.” Haller turned on his heel when he reached the doorway, he cocked back the hammer. “Mimic!”

Mr. Majestic
05-11-2010, 08:15 PM
Victor made hi way back to the lower levels of the mansion, he was uneasy, Haller had a gun with a carbonadium bullet. And that was a threat to Victor. But he had got what he wanted, a mutant on the team he could trust. His Wanda. He started towards the Blackbird, the hanger doors still not open, Victor sniffed from slight paranoia, his eyes went wide as soldiers filed into the hanger. Haller came in after all the men dressed as SWAT ceased to enter.

“Creed” the Colonel spoke in an authoritative tone, “Disobey a direct order, and the Weapon X team has orders to terminate you.” He he walked closer to the large feral-like mutant. “And if you even try to looks at me wrong, ill put this Carbonadium bullet in your skull.” Victor stared down at the Homo Sapien, the team was of use to him. Being shot in the head with a bullet made of a metal that can hinder his mutant healing factor was not of use. “Do I make myself clear you ugly son of a *****?” Haller growled at Creed.

“Crystal, Sir” Victor emotionlessly acknowledged the threat.

“Logan was spotted in down town New York City, get in the air, and get on his trail.” Haller turned on his heel when he reached the doorway, he cocked back the hammer. “Mimic!”

While waiting we all couldn’t help but to hear the commotion outside of the Blackbird. It seems that Sabretooth and Haller seems to be having a problem. I get up from me chair and make my way to the plane’s door. As I make my way to the door hear Haller yells my name. Right away I approach him.

“Yes sir.” I say.

Last thing I want to do is be on his bad side.

sabetoonth
05-11-2010, 08:34 PM
While waiting we all couldn’t help but to hear the commotion outside of the Blackbird. It seems that Sabretooth and Haller seems to be having a problem. I get up from me chair and make my way to the plane’s door. As I make my way to the door hear Haller yells my name. Right away I approach him.

“Yes sir.” I say.

Last thing I want to do is be on his bad side.

Haller looked at the gun. He could give it to the new recruit who ahd no signs of being attached to the new field leader, risk being shot himself, but make sure some could put Victor in his place… Hed give the kid the gun.
“Should Sabretooth get out of line, shoot him in the head with this.” Haller handed Calvin the gun, looking back at Victor.

“Calvin, get on the jet, we need to get moving to make sure we don’t loose Logan” Creed ordered the young mutant.

“He gets out of line Mimic, do it” Haller looked the Calvin dead in the eyes before turning around and marching back the way he came, as he walked pas the last soldier he gave the order to open and clear the hanger.

TrueMastermind
05-11-2010, 11:33 PM
Many years ago...

In the frigid wind of a snow-glazed Canadian forest, two shadowy figures strolled around like a scene out of a romance movie. Compassion and love increased with every footprint in the snow, the bond was simply unbreakable. But caught up in their blind romance, they failed to notice the danger that stalked them in the freezing snow. Their foolish mistake would change their lives forever...

The man long known as the vicious Wolverine was enchanted to his dazzling partner Silver Fox, living the life of fugitives blinded by their love. Although the life seemed to be a constant game of cat-and-mouse, it still was perfect and the two could dream of no better.

"Do you smell that?"

"Oh Logan, it's just those sensitive senses going off again. It's probably nothing."

"No, I could never forget the scent of gunpowder, but it might just be that dead redneck we found a while back.

"Yea see, stop being so paranoid!"

"Your right, I'm just a little paranoid. However, the scent of that perfume you made is fantastic."

"You think? I guess it couldn't be a lie coming from a guy with superhuman senses," Silver Fox's lips curled into a loving smile before she shared a brief kiss with her mutant companion. Then everything turned into ****.

"Freeze!" The romantic pair turned around to see a large group of armed soldiers directing their high-grade weapons straight at them. Cursing under his breath, Logan knew he should of trusted his senses, although the dull scent made it seemed like the threat was nearly a mile away. How could this happen?

"Put your goddamn hands in the air, or we're going to blow your ****in heads off!" Rolling his eyes, Logan reluctanly put his hands in the air, followed by Silver Fox. But Wolverine had a plan. A plan that would prove fatal.

"When I give the go, run in front of me, where I'll cover you while we both run. Anything is better than being prisoners of these ****ers."

"Are you sure?

"GO!" After their brief, hushed conversation came to an abrupt end, Silver Fox executed the plan to perfection, sprinting in front of Wolverine while he took all of the bullets. So far so good, but all good things must come to an end. And everything seemed to convert to slow-motion. An unforseen, stray bullet pierced a slightly exposed section of Silver Fox's head. As she dropped to the ground, Logan stood frozen in fear. Could the only thing worth anything in his life be meeting an untimely end? Could these armored bastards really strip away the love of his life. As she layed on the ground, still as a brick, rage and fear ran through his veins. Despite collapsing to the ground to shake the woman...his woman back alive, Logan knew she had departed the plane of the living. His life was over.

Turning to the shocked soldiers, Logan stared at them with a creepy sense of vengeance. Leaping into the air, Logan was prepared to kill. With his bone claws hungry for blood, the heart-broken Wolverine felt he needed to punish these killers for their mistake.

"You....you killed her....you're....YOU'RE GOING TO DIE!!!"

What shocked the soldiers most while their hairy attacker launched himself into the air, was the heartfelt tear rolling down his cheek.

http://static.reelmovienews.com/images/gallery/x-men-origins-wolverine-photo.jpg

****

Now...

His eyes busting wide open in the back seat of the Reavers helicopter, Logan had to take a moment to realize where he was. All of a sudden, Banshee's grizzled face peered back at him from the pilot's seat.

"You alright back there buddy?"

"I'll survive."

For the first time in many years, a hearfelt tear could be spotted rolling down Logan's cheek.

Mr. Marko
05-12-2010, 01:23 PM
http://teamjetpack104.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Crimson-Dynamo-Banner.jpg


April 30, 1975

An eleven-year-old Ivan Vanko sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the radio as it announced the successful retaking of Saigon by the North Vietnamese. Over the past several years, Anton Vanko, had become a somewhat common name in the Soviet media, and his Crimson Dynamos were something of legend. Anton's wife, Stephanya, would routinely gather their children together to hear of their father's success in bringing peace and unity to the Vietnamese people.

"Turn it up, Mama!"* Ivan loved hearing news about his father's robot soliders, and today was the most exciting days of his young life.

"It was nothing short of miraculous as the People's Army of Vietnam marched alongside a troop of Soviet Crimson Dynamos marched into Saigon and overtook the remaining resisting troops. Reports so far say that the American military has withdrawn from the city, and although a few citizens of Saigon have defected to go with them, Saigon is already prepared to undergo a long overdue change in government. Thanks to the help from Anton Vanko and his Crimson army, the Soviet Union has helped bring peace and unity to yet another socialist nation."

"Ypa!" Young Ivan rose from his seat and raised his hands in triumph. "I knew Papa would do it, Mama!" He moved his arms around in a robot-like motion, aiming his imaginary guns at his eight-year-old younger brother, Nikolai. "American soldier, you are not welcome. The People will not allow your reign of terror. Pshu! Pshu!" He fires his guns and his brother feigned an attack. The two fell over each other in laughter.

"Come on now, boys. Its time for bed." As Ivan prepared for bed, his mind was filled with images of the Crimson Dynamos filling the street, attacking all of the evil American soldiers. With the success of the war in Vietnam, Ivan was excited for his father to come home. He would probably bring them to the plant again, and he might even let them watch a prototype test like he did last time.

As Stephanya tucked her two boys into bed, their energy was palpable in the air around them. "Mama," Nikolai said. "Who do you think Papa's robots can help now?"

Stephanya smiled and rubbed her son's hair. "Well, they'll probably need to help the people in Saigon for a little while. But I imagine that there are lots of people they can help here as well." She kissed both Nikolai and Ivan on the forehead. "спокойной ночи, boys. Sleep well. I love you, and remember your father does too."

Ivan smiled. "He's going to be home soon, isn't he, Mama?"

Stephanya smiled at her son. "Yes, Ivan, he is. спокойной ночи."

*Translated from Russian

J'adore
05-12-2010, 02:31 PM
http://i43.tinypic.com/35lg4d0.png

TARGET SET. MISSILES READY FOR LAUNCH.

Aim...and...FIRE!
--

"Aaron, you are my pleasure."

"And forever that shall be--INCOMINGKKZZZTINCOMINGMISSILEDETECED."

"Aaron!? Aaron, are you there?" Jocasta shook Aaron's body. Within seconds of Aaron's sudden switch, the whole lab started to shake. Glasses had flown off the shelves and books had collapsed to the floor.

"Jocasta! What's happening!?"

Dr Stack appeared at the door of Aaron's room. He held on firmly to the doorway as the lab shook.

"My senses are off the charts, I can detect some kind of weapon. I advice you to get out, quickly!"

Quicking her heels, a burst of blue and red fire shot out the soles of her silver robotic feet, causing her to hover into the air. She grabbed Aaron's wrist and pulled him up.

"The bomb, it's too powerful for you, get out now!" Aaron's eyes were locked on Jocasta, Jocasta looked back over at Dr Stack who was struggling to find a way out.

"*****, the exits have been blocked by some sort of plasma!" Dr Stack banged against the fire exit, but nothing happened.

Jocasta lowered, leaving Aaron, who now hovered on his own. Aaron smiled at Jocasta and elongated his silver robotic arms and legs to stretch against the four walls. His stomach had now almost become a target.

"Just RUH-HUKZZTTT-HUNN!"

BOOOM.

--

"Mistress, the target has been hit. I don't think X-51 shall be a bother in our plans in the near future."

"That's perfect. Has Evelyn disabled Mr Pym's communications to Jocasta?"

Ulysses Klaw nodded with a smirk cracking open on his face. Rita DeMara joined him and slowly slid on the final touches of her new costume.

"Ulysses. would you and Betty please kindly get a jet prepared for the two of you."

Dr. Betty was Rita's bodyguard, but, it wasn't like Rita needed one anyway.

--

RE-BOOT SYSTEM IN PROGRESS...

12 % COMPLETE...

http://i42.tinypic.com/262kspz.jpg

And so it shall begin...

30 % COMPLETE...

My bride shall rise again...

60 % COMPLETE...

And so it has been done...

100% COMPLETE. PREPARING FOR REBOOT.

You shall avenge me, no worries...

JOCASTA 3.0 - ACTIVATED.

Goodbye...for now.

FWZOOOM. A loud ringing sound echoed in the ears of Jocasta. But all she could see was a large haze of smoke, burst and rings of deadly flames, as well as chunks of rubble and large amount of chemicals everywhere.

"D-Dr Stack....?" Jocasta sat up slowly, her body had covered it's self in Hank Pym's force field. She looked over at the bloody body of Dr Stack, his crystal white, perfect, lab coat, now stained and almost scarlet red.

"You still have a 20% chance of living. You need to get help." Jocasta bent down, she turned over the body of Dr Stack to see his neck was bleeding heavily after a sharp piece of rubble had cut him. He had also been knocked into a deep coma from the impact.

"It's not him, you should be worrying about. It's your lover, X-51."

"Wh-Who are you...My scanners can not read you."

"They are just taking time to re-boot Janet. I'm your blood. I'm your avenger. I am the greatest female professor to ever walk the earth. I am many things...But you can call me The Wasp."

http://i44.tinypic.com/33x8snp.png

Andy C.
05-12-2010, 03:35 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

Okay, let's go through the checklist....

Notes? All laid out and highlighted for easy perusing.

Cardboard display? A little unspectacular, but set up just fine at my station.

5-gallon container of adhesive fluid? Sitting proudly on top of the fold-out table.

About a thousand pounds of bricks for the live demonstration? Being brought in right now by a couple of guys that Norman brought in from Home Depot.

Now all I need is a name for it. I'm sure "Peter Parker's interesting new adhesive compound" isn't going to set the world ablaze. I need something catchy, something with pop, some pizzazz.....anything that will distract from Blackie Drago and his freaking flying suit.

"Hmmmm.....Incredi-stick?"

"Hmm?" Gwen's ears perk up as she finishes setting up her own display next to mine.

"Oh, right, didn't realize I said that out loud. I'm trying to come up with a catchy name for my project."

"Ah, well, in that case, don't use 'Incredi-stick.' If you're making up a name at the last second, don't make it sound like you made it up at the last second."

"Okay, ummm.....Amaz-o-glue?"

"It's not technically a glue, is it?"

"Adhesi-riffic?"

"Sounds like a knock-off superglue."

"Wonderflonium?"

"Did you just Dr. Horrible me?"

"Heh, you know you love it."

Gwen rolls her eyes, then sets up her laptop with all of her water-filter's schematics on it.

"Don't sweat the name, Peter. This is all about your ability to create something with your own grasp on the scientific process. You're demonstrating to your fellow men of intellect, not pitching for ad executives."

"All right, fine then. Looks like I'll just have to wow the judges with 'Peter Parker's Sticky White Goop.' "

"Okay, now you're just being gross."

"....a little bit, yeah."

I give her a mischievous grin, and she giggles a little bit in return. Then Eddie Brock, World Champion Moment-Killer, approaches with a cart full of huge drums of muddy water.

"Hey Gwen, got what you wanted," he says with a wheeze as he lifts one off the cart and very nearly sets it down right on top of her laptop. "Five ten-gallon drums of contaminated water, filled with the Hudson Bay's finest grime and pollution."

"Perfect! Now I just need to add a little arsenic into the fourth drum and the pellet of Strontium-90 into the last one, to really demonstrate how good my filter is. Peter, could you help Eddie unload the drums for me?"

"Ummm, sure, okay," I say, setting down my note cards before grabbing a water drum, absent-mindedly taking one in each hand before realizing that Eddie's struggling to do one with both hands, so I 'accidentally' drop one and fumble with the other. "Whoa, whoah, whoops! I...*whew!*...guess these things are heavier than they look!"

"Easy, Parker, jeez! You nearly broke my foot with that!"

Boy, wouldn't that be a shame, I very very nearly say out loud before my judgment gets the better of it.

"Sorry, Eddie, heh. Guess I kind of overestimated my own strength." I ham it up as I 'heave' and 'strain' to get the drum behind Gwen's display before going back for another one. While Gwen goes over her notes again, I glance up at Eddie as we unload the other drums.

"I didn't actually expect you to come out today, man. Normally this kind of super-geekery is to you what a cross is to a vampire."

"I'm not here for my own personal amusement, Parker. I'm here because this is a big day for Gwen, and I'm gonna be there to support my girlfriend."

I can't help but notice that he put a lot more emphasis on 'my' than he did on 'girlfriend.' I also can't help but notice that Gwen noticed too.

"Attention, all entrants," a voice calls over the PA system, "please report to the main stage for the opening speeches."

"I'll look over your exhibit while you're there," Eddie tells Gwen. "Good luck, babe!"

"Thanks," she says absently as she finishes opening the Power-Point presentation on her laptop.

"Oh, and hey, since you're sticking behind, I've got a big palette of bricks coming any minute now. Can you tell them to set them up backstage if they get here before I get back?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Eddie mutters begrudgingly.

I make sure to take my note cards with me in case someone knocks them off my table, then leave my display and head over with Gwen to the main stage--a small dais made of the risers that the choir department uses, set up in the middle of the library--where Dr. Curt Connors is preparing to speak.

"Young men and women, fellow scientists, it is my distinct pleasure to welcome you to the Twenty-First Annual Empire State University National Science Fair!" There's a wave of polite applause as we all try and make ourselves look 'adult' by not cheering out loud. "As you know, my name is Doctor Curtis Connors, and I will be one of the judges of this event, and I suppose you could say the prize as well. I've volunteered to open up my lab for one particularly bright individual to gain college credits during their senior year of high school, working as an intern for myself and my projects. That person is potentially any one of you standing here today, and regardless of whether you are the winner, all of you should be proud of yourselves for making it this far. Every one of you has shown great enough potential in the sciences to be worthy of Empire State's notice, and I hope to see all of you, the next generation of scientists, making this world a better place in the years to come."

Everyone applauds Dr. Connors, and he puts his one hand up to politely quiet everyone down.

"Now I hope you'll all join me in welcoming our second guest judge, one of the brightest minds in America and one of the foremost leaders in cold-fusion research and development, Doctor Otto Octavius!"

The applause raises up again, though not quite as loud as for Dr. Connors. Everyone's still a little disappointed that Reed Richards couldn't show.

"*Ahem*, yes, thank you ,Dr. Connors. Firstly, I would like to apologize for not being Dr. Richards," he says, getting a little chuckle from the other kids in the crowd. "However, despite that inconvenience, I can assure you that I share a very important passion as the great Dr. Richards does: the very same passion that we all share here today. The need to study and understand the wonders of the world around us, and the desire to use that understanding to make the world a better place for all of mankind. It is what brought me into the sciences, it is what led me to my current research, where we stand on the very cusp of solving the world's energy crisis once and for all. More importantly, it is what has brought every single one of you here today. You all share that same spark, that same wonder and drive, and that is what will make you all truly great scientists one day."

Gwen looks back at me, and smiles. I see that spark in her eyes that Dr. Octavius is talking about....and I think she's looking for it in mine too.

"I wish the best of luck to all of you. It will be a privilege to see what you all have brought to the table today."

With that, we disperse and head back to our display stations. Looking at the schedule for the day, we've got about an hour and a half before the main-stage demonstrations start, and my own demonstration goes on just before lunch. Plenty of time to sit at my table and psyche myself out.

I feel Gwen's hand reach out and take a hold of mine, then squeeze.

"Good luck, Peter," she all but whispers in my ear. "I really don't want to have to go to ESU by myself."

"Yeah, same, I-- hey!"

She laughs out loud, and we head back to our displays.

Well, here we go. Showtime.

Mr. Majestic
05-12-2010, 05:41 PM
Haller looked at the gun. He could give it to the new recruit who ahd no signs of being attached to the new field leader, risk being shot himself, but make sure some could put Victor in his place… Hed give the kid the gun.
“Should Sabretooth get out of line, shoot him in the head with this.” Haller handed Calvin the gun, looking back at Victor.

“Calvin, get on the jet, we need to get moving to make sure we don’t loose Logan” Creed ordered the young mutant.

“He gets out of line Mimic, do it” Haller looked the Calvin dead in the eyes before turning around and marching back the way he came, as he walked pas the last soldier he gave the order to open and clear the hanger.

I receive the gun from Haller not understanding why out of everyone he would give me the weapon. I’m not a killer and I don’t want to be. Sure Sabretooth can get a bit wild but shouldn’t have Haller known this before making him leader? Guess it’s not really my concern.

“I’ll do as you order, sir.”

I then walk off back towards the blackbird. With Sabretooth’s heighten hearing it wouldn’t be surprising to me if he heard the conversation. The question is what is he going to do?

sabetoonth
05-12-2010, 09:05 PM
I receive the gun from Haller not understanding why out of everyone he would give me the weapon. I’m not a killer and I don’t want to be. Sure Sabretooth can get a bit wild but shouldn’t have Haller known this before making him leader? Guess it’s not really my concern.

“I’ll do as you order, sir.”

I then walk off back towards the blackbird. With Sabretooth’s heighten hearing it wouldn’t be surprising to me if he heard the conversation. The question is what is he going to do?

Sabretooth enters the Blackbird and takes a seat for take off.

“I know what he told you kid.” He says casually as if the threat of the gun were nothing. “I wont be getting out of hand, not enough to worry about.” The engines ignited and the jet started to move. The doors finished opening fully just in time as the jet plane exited the hanger.

Genosha Mutant Prison Camp 1992

Victor snuck up on the camp from the woods, a liberation attack on one of the island nation’s slave camps. Like the Nazis in WW2 mutants were capture, and placed in camps with collars that nullified their powers. Eric had planned this mission with his council having their parts. A guard came towards Victor’s position, and he crouched down in the brush.

“theres something over here I swear to god man!” another guard came to the spot with a less enthusiastic look on his face.

“Mhm, and I think you need you get some vacation time” he turned his back on his partner and headed back to their post at the gate just around the corner.

“When the freaks invade and try to take over you'll see I was right!” the paranoid guard yelled back to his partner.

“YOU MEAN LIKE THIS!” Victor leaped from his place and crushed his throat with his forearm. Victor’s head snapped to the side and he headed off to the position of the other guard.

“Hey, Simmons ,get you ass bac-“ Victor came up behind the guard. Wrapping his arm around his neck; pulling up and to the right with a satisfying crack as the bones broke and Sabretooth let the body fall to the ground.

“Logan, “ Victor whispered into the headset he had in his ear. "Guards on the west side are down, Marko make your move, but be quiet if you can, don’t want the whole damned Genoshan army on us.” Victor motioned to the Marauders giving the command to move in, Scalp Hunter was the first out of the brush. Follow by Blockbuster, Vertigo and Gambit.

Sabretooth hopped the fence and began slaying the guards stealthily. As he finished the perimeter of the corner building, Cain Marko the Juggernaut barreled through the fence knocking many guards against the concrete walls, splashes of crimson blood painting them. The bullets bounces off of Marko’s newly stolen microweave suit as if the ammunition were gumdrops. Scalp Hunter took parts of his armor and using his technomorph abilities reconfigured them into an automatic machine gun opening fire on the black clad soldiers. Blackbuster went in swinging his super strength killing the humans as they made contact with his fists. Vertigo stood behind Victor, using her mutant abilites to set the enemy off balance.

When it was all over Victor ventured into the building, blood and bodies everywhere, in the building it was all human, though the Homo Sapein basterds had killed Blockbuster with a rocket launcher. Vertigo had been injured, but she’d live, and Gambit was just fine, as was Scalp Hunter and Marko.

“Logan, they seem to have some kind of vault flull of mutants here in the main building.” Victor said to his comrade through the earpiece.“I’m checking it out.” Victor took his steps down into the sub levels of the compound’s main building. It was horrifying just to smell it. Death. the smell was everywhere. But through it all Victor continued to walk, the walls were lined with cell doors, and the contents of the cells were not long living mutants, but massacred mutants.

“Logan, they’re all dead, every last one.”

“C'mon Vic, lets get you out of there before the army shows up, that was quite the commotion.” Logan’s voice went through one ear and out the other.

“Wait Logan, I’ve got a scent” Victor moved towards the curved double doors attached to a cell.

“Victor, you said it yourself they're all dead, why would they leave any alive?” Victor ignored Logan as he continued to the door.

“I told ya Logan” Victor grabbed the doors and with all his might began to force them open. “I’m picking up a scent, and I am not leaving anyone here to die. “the doors began to give and light filtered in from the room. “Not if I have anything to say about it!” The doors finally gave and opened wide, inside the small room was an equally small child. It was a she, her clothes were green rags, and it may have been a trick of the light but her skin seemed pink. Regardless Victor reached a hand out to her. The look in her eyes was shear terror.

“C'mon girl, its OK, I wont hurt you, I'm a mutant, like you.” She slowly moved towards Victor, who took her in his arms and cradled her, she must have been what, five? He thought to himself. “A kid Logan, somebody’s kid.” Her eyes were pale green, and they looked up at Victor blinking.
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/2/29735/690024-blink02.jpg

Eddie Brock
05-12-2010, 11:29 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

OUT ON THE TOWN: PART 1

I'm flying over the Pacific Ocean when the suit achieves supersonic flight. The new Mark II armor is holding up quite well. "Sir, I've uploaded the weapon cache's coordinates," Jarvis announces. A small arrow appears at the bottom of my heads-up display, indicating the direction of my target. Jarvis also brings up the Mark II's specifications, as well as technical readouts. "All systems reporting at maximum efficiency. The Mark II is ready and mission-capable."

"That's good news. Keep me posted."

http://fc06.deviantart.com/fs32/f/2008/206/a/d/ad61eac7ba9d9ba4ce4ba104d36ee73a.jpg

With maximum velocity achieved, the flight to Brazil takes no time at all. Jarvis and I continue monitoring the suit's data output, making sure that there aren't any unseen problems with the Mark II. So far, so good. "Lower thrust," I command. The suit brings me down to a good cruising speed, and I drop down to just above tree level. "Enemy camp in 700 meters. All systems ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let's have some fun," I smirk. I fly over the camp once, and my suit identifies several Stark Industries weapons stashed in the area. I minimize those windows to the side, keeping my HUD clear. With a spin, I somersault back around and prepare for my attack run. Several digital crosshairs take aim at large weapon stashes. I point my wrist, and a tiny wrist-mounted machine gun strafes the camp, causing several piles of weapons to explode.

"Hostiles identified," Jarvis warns at the same time that my HUD flashes red. The terrorists are outlined in red as they take aim at me. The suit quickly runs through a scan of all their guns. None of them have the caliber to pierce my armor. I fly straight up before crashing down in the center of the camp. The terrorists open fire.

I stand there as their bullets ricochet off the Mark II's armor. Suddenly, the HUD identifies something unexpected. At the end of the road, there's an Iron Man unit. "Enhance and identify," I order. A small screen in the lower right corner of my HUD displays an enlarged scan of the unit. It is, indeed, one of my father's Iron Men.

"Fourth generation Stark Industries Iron Man infantry unit," Jarvis dictates as the design specs for this specific unit come up. "Last utilized during the Gulf War. It is from the most recent line of Iron Men, which was also the first to utilize Stark Industries repulsor technology." After a pause, Jarvis adds, "All units were reported as deactivated or destroyed."

"So much for that," I muse, sighing. "And the board wonders why I don't want to introduce a new line of Iron Men. Say, didn't they once declare that Iron Men units would never fall into the wrong hands?"

"Indeed they did, sir."

Jarvis pulls up a video on my HUD. It's a 60 Minutes piece Obidiah did three years ago, the last time that a new line of Iron Men was proposed. That vote lost thanks, in large part, to my father's disapproval. "And as for those expressing concern about the Iron Men being reverse engineered, I tell you there's nothing to fear. I can't think of anything in this world that's harder to steal than an Iron Man. They are kept under strict lock and key."

I roll my eyes. Clearly, Obidiah had too much faith in our ability to prevent proliferation. Though, he does have a point. It's not easy to get your hands on an Iron Man unless you're authorized. So how did this unit end up in the hand of guerrillas in Brazil? "What do you say, Jarvis?" I lift my right repulsor. "Let's blast this thing back into the '90's."

Before I can fire, I notice how close the terrorists have drawn to me. I was so concerned by the Iron Man - and so unconcerned by them - that I lost track of where I was. With my other left repulsor, I blast the men flanking me from the side. Spinning around, I use both repulsors to blow an ammunition-filled hut sky high. The resulting explosion knocks down several approaching enemies. I turn and fire with my right repulsor to blast the guerrillas to my rear.

Something hits the back of my head, and the suit and I go tumbling across the camp, taking out another hut along the way. As I get back up, I see what hit me. The Iron Man unit lowers his repulsors, and - though it isn't possible - seems to glare at me.

"Sir, it seems the Iron Man is operational."

I grimace. "You don't say?"

Mr. Marko
05-12-2010, 11:38 PM
http://teamjetpack104.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Blackie-Banner-copy.jpg


"You all share that same spark, that same wonder and drive, and that is what will make you all truly great scientists one day. I wish the best of luck to all of you. It will be a privilege to see what you all have brought to the table today." I stand at the back of the group of students as Dr. Octavius finishes his opening speech. I catch out of the corner of my eye and see Peter and Gwen laughing. I'll have to check out Parker's project later. I'm not niave enough to consider a super-adhesive to be irrelevant.

I head back to my station and start up the looping video on the monitor I borrowed from Dr. Toomes' lab. I then lay the repulsor pack on the table, and double check the safety switch. Wouldn't want the thing to activate right there on the table. The next hour and a half was going to be simple shows and conceptual demonstrations to whoever wanted to take a look.

"Well well, a jetpack, eh?" I turn around to see Harry Osborn.

"More or less." I sit down on my chair as he looms over the VULTURE pack. "Its more like a jet powered hang glider. Its powered by an iteration of Stark Industries' repulsor technology."

"I bet its a rush to fly with this thing."

I smile as I remember last night's flight test. "You have no idea." I look at Harry for a moment. "You don't seem the type care about all this science crap."

Harry chuckles. "Yeah, well. Pete's all over this science business like a fly on a turd, and if I don't come out to cheer on his superglue, I don't know who will."

I chuckle. "How noble."

"Yeah, well..." He rubs his hair. "So, when's your presentation?"

I grab the schedule. "I'm the first one after lunch. I'm actually going to be doing it out on the football field. Y'know, give me room to spread my wings."

"Mr. Drago, I presume?" I turn to see Dr. Otto Octavius standing over my VULTURE flight suit. "A repulsor flight suit. Impressive. Not unlike the technology developed by Howard Stark." Dr. Octavius ran his hands over the pack, inspecting the hardware diligently.

Harry sends me a friendly wink before dismissing himself from the table. "Uh, yes, sir. This is an initial prototype of the unit. I'm working on a more collapsible wing system, but the reinforced hang glider works amazingly as well."

Octavius smiled. "This is very skillful craftsmanship, Mr. Drago. You're very talented. The design is flawless. What kind of lift do you get?"

I stumble for a moment. "I honestly haven't tried to clock it, but its fast enough that you'll need to tie your shoes extra tight."

Octavius grins. "Have you considered what applications your project may have in the real world?"

"Um, mostly military or special forces, I would guess. The VULTURE pack runs surprisingly quiet, which I'm assuming , and its very to manufacture."

"Vulture?"

"Vertical Ultralight Takeoff Unit for Reconnaissance and Espionage."

Octavius smiles again."I can see that this project means a lot to you, Mr. Drago. I admire that. Keep that spark inside going strong. I look forward to your presentation." With that, Dr. Octavius walked toward the next table.

Alright, Blackie, don't freak out. You've got this. You have a flight suit, for frick's sake. No need to get antsy. I look over at Gwen Stacy's table to see her explaining some sort of water purification system to Dr. Connors. She seems fairly intelligent for a jock's girlfriend. Not too sure why she would stoop to the level of Eddie Brock, but what the hell, somebody had to.

Suddenly, my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and look at the screen.

You have one SMS message from Dr. Toomes:
Knock em dead. You'll do great.

I smile and place the phone back in my pocket. All of my preparation has lead to today. Its time to show the world what Blackie Drago is made of.

bkhedr
05-13-2010, 03:45 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg



The Vision continued his silent ascent towards the massive carrier until it filled his line of sight at which point he deftly altered his flight path and made for one of the mid ship deck in the Carrier’s stern.

The artificial man remained acutely aware of the fact that his failed attempt to access HAMMER security would soon put the entire ship on alert, and while he had managed to reach the ship before alarms inevitably roused its occupants to attention, he realized that he would need every advantage he could muster if he was to succeed in his attempt to access the Hellicarrier’s Database.

It was this line of reasoning that led him to the seemingly unimportant midship section that he now faced. Having deliberately selected a cross section of the hull devoid of access hatches or windows, the Vision simply drifted through the 2 foot thick armored hull before emerging in a dimly lit access tunnel within the ship.

Quick glances down the length of the tunnel on either side of him confirmed that he was alone for the moment and he scanned the walls around him using his full range of sight to hone in on the tell tale electromagnetic signature of computer wiring.

He found what he was looking for above his head, quite literally in the floor of the deck above him, and impassively reached upwards and closed an intangible forefinger and thumb around the wiring, bringing the digits together to complete a closed circuit by which he could begin farming data.

HAMMER’s security protocols were impressive indeed, even at this close range, but with direct contact now established the Vision was able to quickly bypass the lock outs and download the carrier’s schematics.
Studying the ship’s layout with the speed only a computerized mind would be capable of, the Vision quickly calculated the route of least resistance to the ship’s mainframe. If HAMMER possessed any information on the Ultron intelligence accessing the mainframe directly would be the only sure fire way to get to it.

The only problem was that the mainframe itself was heavily guarded and no amount of stealth or intangibility would get him in and out unnoticed. While slightly disappointing, this was not at all unexpected, and the synthezoid reminded himself that he had been lucky to have already gotten so far without encountering resistance or being detected.
No sooner had he done so than did alarms begin to blare throughout the ship and a professional voice announce that security condition one was in effect.

The Vision crimson face betrayed no hint of emotion as he listened to the announcement until it began to recycle. He then left his feet once more, moving ghostlike through the ship’s decks along his already computed path to the mainframe.


http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


Sharon Carter, Director of HAMMER, took her eyes off the security display in front of her and frowned at the heavily reinforced door that served as the entrance to Hellicarrier's mainframe room as the familiar sounds of automatic weapons fire reverberated dully from the corridor beyond.

Cursing under her breath, Carter turned back to the security display which confirmed that the intruder had made his way to the corridor and was now engaging the few agents who had been able to get there in time to put up a defence.

The intruder had moved with incredible speed, knifing through or circumventing their defences with terrible ease. By the time a tactical analysis of his actions had determined the mainframe to be his target it was already far too late for Carter to do anything but gather what few men she had around her and race for the mainframe herself.

Not that it seemed to be putting a hitch in the intruder's progress at all.

"Well I'll bet dollars to donuts I know who you are and what you're looking for buddy, and I'll be damned if I let you get it from my ship." Carter muttered prompting a technician to giver her a quizing look.

"Ma'am?"

"Nothing soldier." Carter replied as the gunfire beyond the corridor abruptly ceased "Begin purging the data as instructed. And get Captain America down here on the double."

Without waiting for a response, Carter straightened and faced the doorway, unholstering her weapon in the process and leveling it in front of her while the other armed men in the room did the same.

It was Lipton's android. She was sure of it. She just wondered if the machine knew that they were here hunting it, and if it realized how completely it had managed to turn everything upside down.

One thing was for certain, it had gotten this far, and it more advanced than she had assumed possible.

"C'mon then." An agent to Carter's right said as he tightened his grip on his weapon.

With all their attention trained on the door or the data purge in progress no one noticed as the Vision emerged ghostlike from the floor behing them.

It was only when a solid back hand delivered by the synthezoid sent the agent who had spoken flying across the room that they all realized that their foe was already within their midst.

Byrd Man
05-13-2010, 10:20 AM
http://i163.photobucket.com/albums/t302/DCMarvelRPG/Captain%20America/Misc/AllStarBanner.png



The sounds of gunfire and stuggle fill the corridors of the helicarrier as I rush through the halls, still in my pajamas with my gun out. I tap at the small communicator in my ear as I walk through the halls.

"Captain America to Director 13, Captain America to Director 13, what's going on Carter? What's the sit-rep?"

All I get on the other end is silence. Hearing chaos errupting nearby, I rush down the halls and step over the unconscious bodies to the mainframe room. Double reinforced doors greet me, asking for my security clearance.

"Username: Captain America, Callsign: Uncle Sam, Password: Gail."

The door slides open.


With all their attention trained on the door or the data purge in progress no one noticed as the Vision emerged ghostlike from the floor behing them.


It was only when a solid back hand delivered by the synthezoid sent the agent who had spoken flying across the room that they all realized that their foe was already within their midst.


"Sharon, get down!" I yell as I squeeze off a few rounds at whatever it is attacking the room.

bkhedr
05-13-2010, 11:15 AM
http://i163.photobucket.com/albums/t302/DCMarvelRPG/Captain%20America/Misc/AllStarBanner.png




The sounds of gunfire and stuggle fill the corridors of the helicarrier as I rush through the halls, still in my pajamas with my gun out. I tap at the small communicator in my ear as I walk through the halls.

"Captain America to Director 13, Captain America to Director 13, what's going on Carter? What's the sit-rep?"

All I get on the other end is silence. Hearing chaos errupting nearby, I rush down the halls and step over the unconscious bodies to the mainframe room. Double reinforced doors greet me, asking for my security clearance.

"Username: Captain America, Callsign: Uncle Sam, Password: Gail."

The door slides open.




"Sharon, get down!" I yell as I squeeze off a few rounds at whatever it is attacking the room.




http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


Chaos erupts in the once controlled environment of the HAMMER mainframe while the Vision methodically disables the Agents around him.

His face betrays not a hint of emotion or surprise despite the chaos, despite the arrival of a man not in uniform who arrives unexpectedly through the once sealed doors, despite the high powered rounds that now ping harmlessly off of his now super dense body. The disparity between his impassivity of his face and the fluid precision of his attacks only serves to add to the Agents' confusion.

The men are highly trained, the best of the best, but they each go down in turn as the Vision works his way to the new arrival, and the reinforced door behind him.

If he was to succeed he would need time to access the main frame. He would need to seal the door.

The man at the door raises his weapon to fire only to have it suddenly become impossibly hot, far too hot to hold as the Vision looses beams of intense heat from his eyes at it without breaking stride.

Eddie Brock
05-13-2010, 08:16 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

OUT ON THE TOWN: PART 2

My father designed repulsor technology as a replacement for traditional jet propulsion systems. Repulsors required no fuel and produced no exhaust. The technology was clean and safe. Unfortunately, repulsors required a massive power source to operate, so they never became cost-efficient. Nevertheless, repulsor technology - to this day - continues to appear in flight prototypes around the world. If you have the money, repulsors are the way to go.

When Stark Industries was brainstorming for their fourth generation of Iron Men - nicknamed the "Harbinger" line - my father saw a great opportunity for the application of his patented repulsor technology. The powercore which ran every Iron Man was capable of running repulsors with little to no problem. It was during preliminary testing that they discovered the miniature repulsors in the drones' hands - originally conceived as flight stabilizers - also doubled as weapons. The initial discharge created by the repulsors during start-up could be aimed, and it proved to be an effective, nonlethal alternative to conventional weaponry. Some say it was the development which took the Iron Men from powerful to downright dominating.

Hard to appreciate all of this when that same weaponry is being used against you for the first time. The Harbinger unit attacks relentlessly, riddling my outer shell with repulsor blasts. Each hit feels like taking a punch from a linebacker, as well as leaving a smoking burn mark in my armor. Jarvis and Pepper never ran the numbers - after all, an Iron Man is nearly impossible to steal, right? - but I'm willing to bet that a fully-charged blast might pack enough punch to dent, or even pierce, my armor.

I charge at the Harbinger, ignoring the multiple repulsor blasts I'm forced to absorb on the way. Deploying my wrist-mounted machine gun, I vault over the Harbinger, leaving a line of tiny bullet holes from its chest over its head to its shoulder blades. Apparently, that was more of a nuisance than anything else because the Harbinger spins around without missing a beat. I see his repulsor glowing, so I quickly fire off a blast of my own to interrupt it. I'm not willing to test my theory about the kind of damage a repulsor blast could do to my suit.

"Got any bright ideas, Jarvis?"

The Harbinger's schematics take up half of my HUD. A tiny cursor bounces around the blueprint, scanning it for any weak points. "You do know that this thing was built to stand up to an Abrams tank and live to tell the tale, right, sir?" Jarvis asks sarcastically.

"Right. So back to Plan A: Hit it until it drops."

I go on the offensive, alternating repulsor blasts from my right to my left. My attacks do considerably more damage to the Harbinger's outer shell, but - unlike me - it doesn't have a hollow center. It's basically a walking piece of metal with guns, and endurance is its specialty. However, this is where I have a leg up. My suit is quicker, more maneuverable, and generally more advanced.

"Let's see what kind of flight capabilities these things had," I announce. The repulsors in my boots activate almost instantly, and soon I'm accelerating straight upwards. I look down and see the Harbinger not far behind. It doesn't have quite the vertical lift that the Mark II does, but that's where the 20-odd years of technological advancement come into play. "Not bad. Jarvis, is the unibeam weapon charged?"

As soon as I say the word "unibeam," everything else in the HUD minimizes as the unibeam program opens. "Sir, the unibeam is charged and ready," Jarvis reports. A small diagram of the Mark II takes up the center of my HUD, and the powercore flashes brightly. I smirk. This is a new toy that Pepper thought up, and I'm excited to give it a whirl.

I spin around and face the approaching Harbinger. It unleashes a few repulsor blasts, but they either miss or barely clip my armor. "Let's give it a taste," I order. "Fire." My powercore begins to glow so brightly that I can hardly see anything else. Then, with a sound like a repulsor blast magnified ten times, a beam of energy shoots from my powercore, obliterating the Harbinger. "TARGET ELIMINATED" blinks before my eyes on the HUD. "Status report."

"Repulsors down to 15% power, but all other systems are clean," Jarvis announces. "You'll rarely be able to use that more than once in a fight, but I'd say that was a success, sir."

"I agree. Let's finish up with the camp and head home to tell Pepper the good news."

TrueMastermind
05-13-2010, 08:52 PM
http://img243.imageshack.us/img243/4340/sinisterbanner.jpg


New York City was a wreck. People were running around like chickens with their head cut off while letting out skin-crawling, ear-splitting, bone-busting screams. It didn't help that blustery winds were lifting Nathanial's ankle-reaching trenchcoat as if a fan were stalking him. But no signs of displeasure or discomfort showed on Sinister's devilish face, just a blank sheet, like always. After passing by a drunk lunatic, Sinister finally arrived at his destination.

And there it was. The Church of Acopalypse. Old and abandoned, the ancient wood building was still as imposing as it's age old leader, who slowly entered his creation. The inside was not so great. A foul stench lurked within its walls while the hideous, rotted wood of the pews stuck out like a sore thumb. Even the charred section of the wall remained in the very back where some hoodlums attempted to burn the place down. It was in need of a makeover.

"I see they finally let you out." Sinister whipped around to see a figure from his past, before he started his life behind bars.


http://starsmedia.ign.com/stars/image/object/923/923923/mastermind_jason-wyngarde_pictureboxart_160w.jpg

Jason Wyngarde. Member of the original Marauders. Sinister's greatest ally.

"Long time no see, old friend."


"A long time it has been, Nathanial, a very long time. I see you still worship this burly Egyptian," Signaling towards the towering statue placed at the front of the room, he lets out a teasing smirk.

"For good reason," His paper-white skin glowing in the calignous church, Sinister responded with a heart-warming smile before looking up at the symbolic legend that stood over them petrified, his stone eyes emmiting a creepy vibe.

"Still in the game?" Returning his attention towards his old pal, Sinister simply replied with a simple nod, before redirecting his gaze up at Acopalypse.

"If I may make a suggestion, you desperately need to cut your ties with the world of the underground. There's no gain in competing with those idiotic lunatics anymore. If you really want to make a big comeback, you got to join the big boys. Leave mobbing to the small fries. Make Sinister a word to be scared of." Appalled at Wyngarde's response, Sinister whips his eyes back to Jason, giving him a look of shock yet interest.

"And what do you propose, Mastermind?" Chuckling at his old codename, Jason walks toward the church's exit a bit before turning back.

"Walk with me."

Andy C.
05-13-2010, 11:10 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

"...anyway, that's the basic premise of the formula and what it can do. It's super-elastic, stronger than steel when dried, extremely adhesive, and completely bio-degradable, so on top of everything it's Earth-friendly."

"Very interesting, Mister Parker," Dr. Connors says as he looks through my notes. "It's not too dissimilar from, say, a synthesized spider-web."

"...yeah, actually. Hadn't really thought of that, but I can definitely see it. Kind of surprised I didn't notice the similarities before, really."

"Don't feel too bad about it; I spend a lot of time studying the physical behavior of animals, so I'm bound to make comparisons like that. Speaking of spiders, I never did properly apologize for the incident at my lab last year."

As soon as he mentions the spider-bite, I go white as a ghost.

"Oh, well, you know. It wasn't a big deal; after a couple of days in bed I was up and about again anyway. Heh, I'd almost completely forgotten that it even happened."

It's a good thing I'm not a gambling man, because I have the single worst poker face in the world. Fortunately, Dr. Connors seems more interested in the formula on my cardboard display than the formula swimming around in my bloodstream.

"Anyway, this is impressive work, Mr. Parker. I look forward to the demonstration."

I shake his hand before he's off to the next booth, then look over at Gwen's booth, where she's being grilled by Doctor Octavius. After a couple of minutes discussing her water purifier, Octavius gives her a polite nod and heads my way. I nervously reset my notes as he comes over, then look back to Gwen, who gives me an excited thumbs-up, and I can't help but smile back at her.

"Ah, a new development in chemistry, one of the most fundamental of all sciences," the slightly pudgy man says as he looks over my display, then notices that I'm still smiling like a goof towards my friend in the next booth. "Although if you don't mind my saying, it looks like you've taken an interest in chemistry of a different kind."

I snap back to my senses and start sputtering.

"What, you mean her? I--err, well, Gwen and me, we're--y'know, good friends, that's--"

"No explanations necessary," he says with a knowing smile, stopping short of winking. "I too know what it's like to encounter romance while in pursuit of greater knowledge."

"Uhh, hey, whoah, I mean, she's got a--we're just---...."

"Apologies, young man, I didn't mean to be overly familiar or presumptuous. Anyway, I see you have a new chemical adhesive, Mr...."

"Parker," I introduce myself. "Peter Parker."

Octavius raises an eyebrow upon hearing the name.

"Parker....hmmmm, I knew a Richard Parker once, one who bore a striking resemblance to you. Any relation?"

"Actually, yeah. He's my father. Well, he's my biological father. Well, he was my biological father."

"Oh, that's right, I had heard he passed away some time ago. I worked with him once or twice in the early Nineties--we never really knew each other on a personal level, but I did respect him professionally. I remember him being something of the comedian of our team as well. A very gifted chemist. ....sorry, I seem to be delving into all sorts of overly personal topics. Back to the topic at hand: your adhesive?"

"....right, no problem. My adhesive is what you might call a 'synthetic spider-web' formula, based off of a combination of silicate and protein compounds. When kept in a vacuum container like this one, you can see it in an inert liquid form, but when exposed to oxygen, it quickly shifts into a non-Newtonian fluid before becoming solid, becoming fully rigid in approximately a minute. And if you look at the numbers from testing its strength against compression, tension, and impact, you can see that it is pretty formidable stuff."

"Very impressive," Octavius says as he reads the numbers. "What sort of applications are you seeing in this formula? Construction, I presume?"

"Well, not so much construction," I say with a frown. "Unfortunately the rapid oxidation rate of the fluid also means it degenerates fairly quickly. The dried substance decomposes in about an hour, which would mean that its applications are all temporary ones. Still, with something this strong, I was thinking it could be used primarily for emergency services, or maybe a new non-lethal law enforcement weapon. For that, though, I'd need a separate sprayer mechanism."

"Hmmm," he says, jotting down a few notes to himself. "I like what I see here, Mr. Parker. Confidentially, in terms of practical use, I could very easily see your project placing in the top five. Let's hope your demonstration justifies my optimism."

"Looking forward to it. I'm on in thirty!"


THIRTY MINUTES LATER....


"Pete, just so you know, I am not cool with this," Harry says as I practically shove him up the ladder to the catwalk above the auditorium stage.

"Duly noted. Just wait for my cue and you can be as not-cool-with-it as you want," I say before stepping out onto the stage in front of about a hundred other kids, their parents, a few faculty members, and the judges themselves.

"Ladies and gentlemen, teachers and fellow students, I have for your consideration a revolutionary new chemical compound. Based off of the work of my late father Richard Parker, I have successfully developed an incredibly powerful super-adhesive, the world's first synthetic spider silk."

I produce a plugged Erlenmeyer flask with a dropper (actually, I couldn't find the dropper and had to steal Bernard's turkey baster out of the kitchen), filled with the milky gray-white fluid. I gesture to the stage-hands that the theater class had loaned us for the Fair, who roll a seven-foot tall frame of four metal posts to the center of the stage.

"Okay, so, rather than bore you with the number-rattling and long drawn-out process of how I created it--all of which is already handily on display at my booth anyway--I wanted to show you exactly what this stuff can do. ...which I guess is technically the very definition of a demonstration, heh....ummm...."

Oh God, is this stage fright? I've stood up to the most feared crime lord in Brooklyn, stared down a psychotic electric potential mass-murderer, and now the great and powerful Spider-Man is getting stage fright?!

"*Ahem*....anyway, for the first part of the test, I'm going to need a few volunteers from the audience. I, ummm, I know this isn't exactly the weightlifting crowd, but I could really use a few of the strongest people in the room. Any takers?"

A few kids' dads stand up, and I gesture for them to come to the stage. Oh and hey, Eddie's here too, trying to be the macho man. Awesome.

I head offstage for a second, and come back with a pair of flat wooden boards, with handles screwed into the surface.

"All right, so we've got...onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight of you, good even number. Now, if you'll split off into groups of four...there we go. And if you'll take this board here, sir, and you take this one....okay! Now we're going to play a little bit of tug-of-war."

I get the two big burly guys with the boards in their hands to face each other, then squirt out a dollop of my adhesive onto both boards before smooshing them together. Both teams of four line up, Eddie cutting in line to take one of the boards himself, then leering at me like he's ready to just rip this thing clean off. Yeah, right, good luck, pal. I'd be surprised if anyone can do this...

...well, maybe that big green monster guy from yesterday.

"Okay, on the count of three.....one.....two.....three!"

All eight men pull with all of their might, accompanied by all sorts of manly-man grunting and heaving as they try as hard as they can to pull the two stuck boards apart. Finally, after a good twenty seconds, I call for them to stop.

"Okay, I think that's about enough, guys," I say, shooting a defeated Eddie my best 'look who thinks he's hot stuff now' look as he steps down from the stage. I normally have critically low self confidence in just about everything, but I can't help but be smug about getting one up on Eddie Brock.

"Anyway, that's...well, that's hardly anything, is it? I mean, it's proof that the adhesive works, but you can get the same effect from some nails or screws or overlapping the pages of a pair of phone books. Now it's time for the real test!"

I grab a little step-ladder and take my container of fluid over to the frame of metal poles the stage-hands brought in. I step up to reach the top of the first pole, and drop a dollop of the fluid onto it, then stretch it out like the cheese on a really good pizza. Once I get it good and stretchy, I step down and take it to the pole opposite of it, and attach the other end. The first strand attached, I head to the next pole, and do the same thing, creating a large "X" over my head.

"This, ummm....this might take a little while, folks. Guess it's a good thing I'm the last one to go before lunch, huh? Don't worry, I won't let it go over into your lunchtime. I promise that once I get this net put together, the last part of the demonstration will be super-quick. So, ummm...talk amongst yourselves for a bit. Oh, and can we get a little music please?"

The guy in the sound booth gives me a thumbs-up, and starts playing Pink Floyd's "Learning to Fly" over the auditorium's speakers. Nice choice.

About ten minutes and two songs later, I've finally got it set up--a nice big criss-crossing net over my head. I look up into the catwalks and see Harry, still not cool at all about this, signal to me that he's ready when I am.

"Sorry about the delay, guys--one of the problems of having a super-fast oxidizing compound is that you can't really do proper prep-work without it decomposing by the time it's supposed to be used. Anyway, I promised this would be super-quick, so without any further adieu, here's the final demonstration of my super-adhesive's incredible qualities. Harry, LET 'ER RIP!!!"

With that, Harry pulls on the quick-release latch holding a gigantic palette of bricks up in the rigging, and a good thousand pounds of masonry comes down right on top of me....

....only to be stopped dead by the net of my adhesive fluid. There's a hell of a racket as the bricks rattle and crash against each other, a few broken pieces fly off into the wings and clatter around on the stage, but other than that, there's no damage done.

Granted, I was never in any real danger anyway, what with my super-enhanced speed and agility that would get me out of the way before all that nastiness would have splattered me. Still, it makes for one awesome demonstration, I think.

I look up at the net of adhesive to make sure it's holding. It's sagging, sure, but it doesn't look like the net has failed or even strained anywhere on it. Not a bad day's work, Peter Parker.

"Okay, ummm...." I look back out to the crowd, who's sitting in what I can only presume is awed surprise, "I guess that's lunch!"

Mr. Marko
05-14-2010, 02:07 AM
http://teamjetpack104.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Blackie-Banner-copy.jpg

I stood in awe as Parker stood triumphantly under his net of goop. Whatever the hell that stuff was, it was cool. I'd need to remember to commend him on his presentation later.

Since my presentation was the first one after lunch, I planned on scarfing down a sandwich and then making any final adjustments. I head back to my table and toss the VULTURE pack around my shoulder, and throw the hang glider underneath my arm.

"Pretty impressive hardware you've got there." I spin around and see a blond girl with round glasses. She seems to be...whats the word...smart? No, we're all smart around here. "Repulsor technology doesn't come cheap. I'm impressed you were able to do it all by yourself."

I shrug. "The technology behind the repulsors is over 15 years old. I just trimmed it down to its bare essentials." I look at over at where I'd seen her sitting earlier. "I'm Blackie Drago. And you are...?"

"Debra Whitman. I was the one who presented the new breed of corn that is completely resistant to pathogenic bacteria and fungus." She stood for a moment, completely consumed in her own glory.

"Uhh...yeah, corn. Yum." I shift my weight slightly, unsure of what to say, then turn and head toward the door to the football field.

Debra doesn't seem pleased that I push past her. "What, you think your 'jetpack' is going to do better than my miracle corn?"

I giggle at the thought of miracle corn. What is with this girl, anyways? Why did she seek me out just to pick a fight? "Debbie, I think that my flight suit is going to speak for itself." I stop for a moment and smile at her. "I can call you Debbie, right?" I turn away from her again, continuing to move towards the doors.

"Its DEB-RAH! Ugh!" She storms up next to me and grabs me by the shoulder, stopping both of us in our tracks. She stares at me for a few moments, and her look slowly softens, then quickly she narrows her gaze again as she examines my hang glider. "What materials did you use for this? Some sort of poly-"

"A poly-carbonate fiber that rivals Kevlar in durability, but is light and flexible."

She looks at it for a moment, seemingly entranced by my craftsmanship. She then stops. "How the hell can you afford all this stuff?!"

I smile. "My dad's something of a hot-shot. The divorce hasn't been quite as hard on my as you might think. A lot of guilt floats around...I just decided to cash in on the situation." I turn away from her, watching as her face is filled once again with confusion. I can tell she is desperately trying to figure me out. To understand me and yet make the impression that she's still smart.

It's worked. "So, I'll see you at my presentation then?"

Debra nods, not sure what else to say.

I smile at her. "Sweet." I turn and head through the doors and outside toward the football field.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished scientists and judges, thank you for coming out to my presentation." I stand outside in front of the bleachers as more and more students file in. Word had spread over the lunch hour that I was going to demonstrate a flying suit, so the bleachers filled fast. "I don't know how many of you have shown up here to watch me blow myself up, but I assure you that this will be a successful flight demonstration."

An audible moan of disappointment fills the bleachers.

I smile widely, continuing my speech. "This suit is a demonstration that the repulsor technology developed over 15 years ago, when modified for lower output and lower production costs, can prove to be a very viable option for individual human flight." I turn my back to show the repulsor pack to the crowd. "This pack has been custom crafted to generate just enough output to lift a human being my weight and size from the ground and allow them to rise into the air." I turn around and pull a rip cord on my belt, and the hang glider wings pop out from my back. "These wings are made from a poly-carbonate fiber that is both light and durable. They allow me to control my flight in a way similar to how a hang glider steers. The difference between the suit and a hang glider, however, is that my flight suit does not rely upon air currents for lift, nor is it limited by gravity." I grin as I flip the switch on the repulsor pack, and it begins to hum. "The VULTURE has no limits."

On que, the repulsor pack kicks into high gear, sending me soaring high into the air. Down below me, the school is getting smaller and smaller, the students more like ants. "OH ****! I forgot how scary this part is!" My whole body shakes as the cars in the parking lot become Hot Wheels cars. As soon as I am high enough, I tilt forward and slow down the repulsor pack, allowing the wind to take the glider. Below me I hear the crowd go wild. I glide around for a while, then crank up the repulsor pack again, sending me speeding through the New York sky in a blur. "Whhhhooooooaaaaaaaaa!" On either side of me, the hang glider's wings flap visciously. I tilt the glider to one side, heading back to the school. As soon as its in sight, I begin my descent. At least this time I have the entire football field as my landing strip. "Alright, Blackie, no pressure. Only half the school waiting for you to do this right." As my feet touch the ground, I begin to run, and I manage to run to a stop in front of all of the judges.

The students in the bleachers go absolutely crazy with excitement. I crouch over, however, gasping for breath. I raise my hand to the crowd and wave slightly. "Thank you!" I smile at the judges as I catch my breath. "So...um...that's pretty much it."

Dr. Octavius smiles at me, looks around at the crowd, then back to me. "Not bad, Mr. Drago. I haven't seen this much excitement around science for a very long time."

I stand up and wave again at the crowd. "Thank you, sir."

In the crowd, I see Debra Whitman cheering furiously at me in excitement. I wave back at her, and she smiles. I'm going to need to get to know this girl better.

bkhedr
05-14-2010, 04:10 AM
http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg



Quickly recovering from his initial shock, Brent reverted to an old trick, allowing his journalistic instincts to take over so that his curousity would override his fear.

Lifting his head and scanning the scene, Brent's attention was immediately drawn to the terrorists, not merely because of what they were doing, but because of what they were doing it with.

"Th-those are HAMMER issued weapons. Top of the line next gen stuff" Brent blurted out to no one in particular "How can these guys have them?"

"I do not know Mr. Brent." came the familiar voice of Ambassador Wu as he took hold of Brent roughly by the shoulders and dragged him to his feet

"But we need to move NOW!"

With that The Ambassador raced for the embassy with David in tow. Despite his confusion and the chaos around him, David couldn't help but notice, and marvel, at how quickly the heavy set Ambassador moved and how strong his grip was. David was fit and in the prime of his life, but he found himself struggling to keep up.

The pair reached the heavy oak doors to the embassy proper before David could give it another thought and he found himself being flung headlong into the Embassy, landing awkawrdly and swiveling his head around to find Wu standing courageously at the doorway, waving desperately to anyone who would notice him to enter the relative security of the Embassy.

David found himself marveling at the man's bravery. This was no soldier afterall, just a diplomat from some godforsaken island nation in South East Asia. Yet here he was, braving gunfire, risking his life, for a couple of dozen American journalists.

It was enough to make David think he had been wrong to suspect the Madripoorians of wrong doing or deceit, or at least consider the possibility.

This was all in the instant before he spotted one of the gun men across the lawn measure up the Ambassador and fire a three round burst in his direction.

David began to scream for the man to get down and reached out for him with an open hand eventhough he knew it was too late. There was no way he could warn the Ambassador in time.

"NOOO!" he shouted even as the incredible happened. Three pings, like bullets ricocheting. David was sure he heard them, but it was impossible, there was nothing between the Ambassador and the gunman. David hadn't seen the rounds of course, but he had seen more than his fair share of violent conflict and he would have bet dollars to donuts that the Ambassador was right in the line of fire.

What happened then? How could the man be standing there? Could the round have been blanks? No, the dead and dying on the lawn attested to the lethality of the rounds being fired and murderous intent of the men using them.

What then had saved Ambassador Wu?

David probably would have asked the Ambassador himself if not for the sudden frantic arrival of survivors rushing past the man and into the Embassy. The entrance foyer descended into chaos then, but not before David spied the gun man who had fired at the Ambassador go down in a bloody heap, shot from an upper floor window as the Embassy's security detail rallied and began to retaliate in earnest.

The Ambassador seemed oblivious to his would be assassin's demise as he continued to usher terrified reporters into the building.

"Quickly! Quickly!" he shouted as the last stragglers raced into the building. The Ambassador then slammed the heavy door and threw his weight against it as the sound of conflicting gunfire outside intensified.




http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg


Several Hours Later

David Brent watches silently from the corner of the room along with with several other journalists as Ambassador Wu quietly address Washington Post reporter Sally Mason while she lies in a hospital bed, the victim of bullet wound to the leg.

It has been like this for the past several hours, visiting one injured survivor after another, offering his condolensces and words of encouragement to those who were injured in the attack on his country's embassy.

Like all the other reporters on the scene who made it through unscathed, David has been following the Ambassador and the story.

As he watches the Ambassador he becomes more and more certain that the oddities he noticed, or at least thought he noticed, during the attack must have been figments of his imagination brought on by shock. David had seen more than his fair share of danger in his time, and he wasn't prone to shock, but how else could he explain bullets seemingly bouncing off an invisible barrier before hitting the Ambassador.

He decided that he had just let his own biases get the better of him, surely he had been mistaken. He had inititally felt somewhat embarrassed at having come to such a ridiculous conclusion, but that feeling was soon replaced with concern for his fellow journalists, and the other people at the party, American and Madripooran alike. Concern, and anger at whoever did this to them.

The buzzing of David's cell phone demanded his attention and he left the room as Wu moved on to yet another victim of the day's attack.

"Yeah?" David said as he flipped the phone open.

"Yeah Perry there's still nothing new. Wu's still visiting the wounded." he said into the phone to his Editor, Perry Black.

"No. Nobody here knows anything."

"Yeah, I'll let you know if - hold on..." Brent said as he moved to avoid another reporter who emerged from the room and pushed past him.

"If something comes up I'll - hey, hey watch it!" Brent added as several more reporters pushed past him. His initial frustration with them quickly faded as he realized that their activity could only mean that something new had come up.

Looking up he found that the reporters were congregating around a television set at a receptionist's desk and that one man he did not recognize was frantically working the volume switch on the television's remote.

"I'll have to call you back Perry." David said as he flipped the phone shut and raced towards the TV. He didn't even realize that Perry's last words to him were to get in front of a television right now.

Pushing his way through the small crowd, David emerged in front of the TV just as the volume was turned up.

"-is country will only remain strong if we remain strong for her." a man in army fatigues and a black baclava was saying to the screen. "Strength of will, strength of conviction, and strength of industry."

"America's will and conviction are indefatigable, unerring. She will not be deterred just as we, her defenders, will not be deterred, These qualities are inside of her, inside all of us, and they can not be attacked. Her strenght of industry is another matter. For too long have we remained silent while America's was unmatched industrial and technological might were drained by incompetence, by greed, by foreign devils. It was bad enough when America imported inferior foreign products and technologies, but now they tell us we have fallen behind. Now they tell us that we have to strike humiliating deals of partnership with those who are beneath us just so that we may share their technologies. As if we can not do anything they can better!!"

"No more!"

"Today's attack on the Embassy of Madripoor was only the beginning. We reject these foreign devils, reject their open hand of friendship and their engines and their microchips. Today the Sons of Sam have dealt the first blow to the foreign devil and to those who would offer him aid and comfort. Today is the first day of a new war for America's soul!!!!"

With that the video ends and the screen cuts back to CNN anchor Wolf Blitzer in the situation room.

"A very disturbing video indeed." Blitzer says to the audience "Once again for those of you just joining us CNN has now learned that today's terrorist attack against the Embassy of Madripoor in New York City, an attack that left 53 dead, many of them Americans, and dozens of other wounded, was carried out by a group calling themselves the Sons of Sam."

"The video you have just seen was delivered to CNN by the terrorist group as a means of claiming responsibility for the attack. Now the Sons claim to be faction of HAMMER that split off to 'fight for America's soul' as the video puts it. HAMMER Director Sharon Carter remains unavailable for comment at this time though we do have reports that HAMMER's Hellicarrier HQ is over New York at this time. We will continue to cover this story and provide you with updates as they become available."

"Now with more insight as to the stated motivations of the terrorists here's CNN correspondant..."

Blitzer's voice faded from David Brent's ears as he turned and made his way through the crowd and away from the commotion that had erupted around the television even as his phone buzzed for his attention once more.

"Yeah Perry. I'll get the Ambassador's statement."

Byrd Man
05-14-2010, 10:40 AM
Chaos erupts in the once controlled environment of the HAMMER mainframe while the Vision methodically disables the Agents around him.

His face betrays not a hint of emotion or surprise despite the chaos, despite the arrival of a man not in uniform who arrives unexpectedly through the once sealed doors, despite the high powered rounds that now ping harmlessly off of his now super dense body. The disparity between his impassivity of his face and the fluid precision of his attacks only serves to add to the Agents' confusion.

The men are highly trained, the best of the best, but they each go down in turn as the Vision works his way to the new arrival, and the reinforced door behind him.

If he was to succeed he would need time to access the main frame. He would need to seal the door.


The man at the door raises his weapon to fire only to have it suddenly become impossibly hot, far too hot to hold as the Vision looses beams of intense heat from his eyes at it without breaking stride.


The red hot gun clatters to the ground as I pull my hand back. The assailant, I'm pretty sure he's robotic in nature, lurches towards me, his body clanking against the Helicarrier's metal floors.

"I have a feeling this will be pretty pointless, but..."

I rush towards the android, my fist held high preparing to strike.

J'adore
05-14-2010, 01:30 PM
http://i43.tinypic.com/35lg4d0.png

Evelyn and Hank's lips had meet for the fourth time, this time, they had elongated their kiss, passion fuming the air. There bodies were entangled within each other on the leather sofa.

Hank could taste the sweetness of Evelyn's bold red lipstick. He moved his hand up her laced, short, nightie and settled his hand on her hip, cautious of every move he made.

Behind her back, Evelyn held tightly onto an injection needle. Her palm was sweaty and clammy. She was thinking about all the different choices in her head. Evelyn had been ordered to lure Hank with her charms, then strike at his neck, with great force and with no regrets. But of course, Evelyn's affections and respect for the high ranked SHIELD professor just got in the way of every chance she just failed to cease.

--

"This is the first time I've seen you like this, Jan."

"Jan? No one ever called me Jan. Well only Rita..."

Jocasta's, small, robotic mouth slowly hung open as she put together the pieces of the puzzle, without her high quality scanners.

"You didn't need those scanners for that clue, did you?"

"D-Did you do this? Have you killed the man I love? All in the frickin' name of MY FATHER! MY, HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, FATHER!...THE ONE THAT ABUSED ME, THE ONE THAT KEPT ME IN A COMA! THE ONE THAT KEPT ME FROM HANK!"

Stepping out from the smoke, Rita's hair was longer than the blurred image had portrayed. Her costume had shorter wings and she was in fact wearing, tight, yellow, goggles.

"Janet, this wasn't meant to kill you. I needed you alone, I needed to explain things for you, without anyone interfering."

Rita's iris glowed a faint gold, as Jocasta could clearly make out. Rita bent down to the side of Jocasta, insisting that she called her 'the Wasp'.

"The Wasp...Such a suitable name for you...you always did have such a big sting effect on people."

Laughing, Wasp lifted up her goggles slightly. "Jan, I wasn't asking you a question. I'm going to take you away."

--

"This can not happen. How...? Why...?"

"Excuse me? May I see your pass?" Ulysses Klaw made his way into the 'Chamber' room. The guards had alerted him about an intruder.

The sound of his boots echoed across the empty room. The figure of a slender female became clear to him in the dark. He clapped his thin hands under his tight, purple gloves, and the lights exploded into the room.

http://i44.tinypic.com/3518ugg.png

"Get rid of it."

The blonde female clutched a 9mm pistol in her left hand. She raised it to the large test tube behind her and gritted her teeth.

Smirking, Ulysses pulled out his sonic sound wave gun. An invention himself had come up with and built, after years of work.

"If you shoot that damn test tube, then I'll shoot you until your ears explode." Ulysses made a firm threat, but this made no difference to the woman.

"You are making a big mistake." The woman swung her leg up, slamming her pointed foot straight up Ulysses' chin, sending him flying across the room.

Ulysses' back cracked heavily, as if it was broken, as he slammed against the wall and slid to the damp floors. "I am Alpha...There shall be no Omega."

The woman had made her way to the dazed out Ulysses, her gun fixed firmly in the aim of his head. "L-Listen lady...It was Rita D-DeMara and Ev-velyn N-Necker's idea...Evelyn's building it-t a-a-nd Rita's commissioning it."

"Lady? There is not a Lady in sight, if my scanners tell me correctly." The supposed 'woman' cracked a sinister smile, bending down to Ulysses' slumped level. She pressed her gun against Ulysses' lower chest.

"Y-You must be...you must be The Widow Maker. Th-the assassin?" Ulysses gulped slightly. The Widow Maker nodded her head gently.

"Correct. I am 'The Widow Maker'."

The Question
05-14-2010, 03:46 PM
It was a beautiful day in downtown Hassenstadt. The kind of day that makes a young man, unsure of his place in the world, feel none the less at peace and happy, assured that, on some level, there is an inherent goodness in existence. He sun was bright, the clouds provided shade for sensitive eyes, and the cool breeze brought the green, misty smell of life and it's workings in from the farmlands on the outskirts of the city, fresh clean and filled with a variety of aromas. Victor felt better than he had in months, better than he had felt even in the monastery, surrounded by a pile of books in the vast library. The rush of learning ancient knowledges and mastering skills known only to a handful of people in history hardly compared to a lovely warm day in your homeland.

He and Valeria walked side by side down the street. She had managed to make him laugh, albeit only briefly, with an absurdly long joke about a fluffy dog, which she considered a victory, however small it was. He still maintained his grim exterior, although uncomfortable with it as he was he had been more talkative in the last two hours than he had since he had returned home, and little to Valeria's knowledge, he would steal quick glances at her when her eyes were elsewhere, and his heart would flutter uncontrollably. He was glad to be with her again, though he'd been hard pressed to admit it. His angst and searching had been poor substitute for the company of a beautiful woman, especially this beautiful woman, but he was still reluctant to leave his mistress.

As they rounded the corner, a noise caught Victor's attention.

"DOWN!" shouted a gruff voice.

Across the street, a solider had pushed a man to the ground and was kicking him in the stomach. The people all around averted their eyes and walked away as quickly and quietly as possible.

"This will teach you some respect, boy!" yelled the soldier. He let out a soft chuckle every time his foot connected with the man's torso.

Victor's body tensed. The soldier was large, and well built, but Victor knew for a fact that the combat training in the Latverian military was very basic. He knew he could disarm and subdue the soldier with minimal effort. Cause him some real pain with just a little more. His weight shifted, and he took a step toward the other side of the street.

Valeria put her hand on his shoulder.

"Victor," she said. "We'll miss the bus if we don't hurry."

Victor turned and saw the look in her eyes. She was afraid. His fists clenched as he fought the instinctual desire to shove the soldier's face into the pavement until it made a stain.

"... you're right," he mumbled.

Valeria smiled, weakly, and took Victor by the hand, leading him home. Where it was safe.

The Question
05-14-2010, 04:22 PM
"Gentleman," said Wilson Fisk. The smile on his face was one of the most disturbing things Norman had ever seen in his life.

"Let's get this over with, Wilson," said Norman.

"You never were a very gracious guest, Mr. Osborn. Of course, who can blame you? Raising a child by yourself does not give one much time to socialize, and now that you have adopted the Parker boy..."

"Yes, mention Harry and Peter as a thinly veiled threat, you're a mobster, I get it already, let's just get this over with."

Wilson laughed. It was a large, jolly belly laugh befitting of Falstaff.

"I like you, Norman, do you know that?"

"The feeling's not mutual."

"Of course. Now, to business. I'm sure the two of you know why you're here?"

Spencer Smythe and Miles Warren stood to wither side of Norman's chair. Warren was obviously nervous. Smythe displayed little emotional at all.

"Not entirely" said Warren. "Mr. Osborn wasn't entirely clear."

"In what way was I unclear?" asked Norman.

"Well, you did say that we would be making things for Mr. Fisk here..."

"Yes, I did say that," Norman replied. "How was that unclear?"

"Well, I just... I'm not sure how any of this is legal."

"It's not," said Norman.

"Oh. Wait, so... this is crime?"

"Yes, this is crime."

Wilson laughed, softly this time.

"Not one for subtlety, are you, Mr. Osborn?"

"I have all the subtlety of a Jack O' Lantern exploding in your face, Wilson. That's why I'm in legitimate business, where bluntness is an asset."

"Too true," replied Fisk. He turned to Miles Warren.

"Yes, Doctor Warren, you will be developing prototypes for the DNA Reflux procedure and giving them to me, as will Doctor Smythe with his creations in the fields of robotics and munitions."

"What are you going to do with them?" asked Warren. "You're not... are you going to make super criminals?"

"Of course not!" Said Fisk. "No, nothing so theatrical. I'm going to sell them."

"To who?"

"Anyone who wants to purchase them. And won't arrest me for selling them, of course. And the three of you will be making a very reasonable percentage of the profits. Good faith on my part, as well as incentive."

"But what if we get caught?" asked Warren.

"We won't."

"But what if... I'm sorry, there are just so many ways that this could go wrong. What if we refuse?"

Fisk smiled.

"Well, ah, you see..."

"He will kill my sons," said Norman.

He turned to look Miles in the eyes.

"And if it comes to that, I will make sure that as a courtesy he will torture you to death first. The money is good, we will not get caught, and we have no alternatives."

Miles turned to Spencer.

"Dr. Smythe? What do you think?"

Spencer looked at Warren, as if he had suddenly been shaken from deep, contemplative thought.

"Oh. Yes. The terms sound reasonable to me. I'm in."

Miles gulped. He was silent for a few minutes, looking back and forth between the men in the room, weighing his options.

"... if you and guarantee we won't get caught..."

"I can," said Wilson.

"... then yes. I'm in. Yes."

Wilson smiled and clapped his hands together.

"Excellent!" he shouted. "Gentlemen, you will not regret this."

"Do you have any other business here, Wilson?" asked Norman.

"No."

"Then get the hell out of my office."

Wilson flashed his teeth as he smiled, resembling a whale with shark's teeth.

"I like you, Mr. Osborn. I will be in touch shortly. Goodbye."

Wilson walked out of Norman's office with the eloquence of a royal sumo wrestler. Miles and Spencer started towards the door themselves.

"Wait," said Norman. "You both remember, we still have that meeting with The Mayor, The Commissioner, and their people tomorrow."

"So, we're essentially playing both sides of the law against each other, while making weapons for the military at the same time?" said Warren.

"It means survival. So, yes."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

They left. Norman sat for a moment, thinking things over. He called his secretary.

"Hold all of my calls. I'm leaving early to do some work in my lab at home."

The Question
05-14-2010, 04:47 PM
Victor stared at a poster depicting King Vladimir, wearing the royal cloak resting his weight upon a broadsword atop a mountain. Newspapers and documents lay in piles around him. King Vladimir had been one of his many obsessions for years. He hated King Vladimir, as he had murdered Victor's parents.

Victor had set up his shrine of hatred and plotted against the crown countless times since he had turned thirteen. It was his rebellious delinquency that had caused his first, unofficial exile, as Boris had sent him to school in America to keep him out of trouble. He had every intention of respecting Boris' wishes this time, of leading a peaceful, lawful life. But once again seeing the military police doing as the pleased in the city streets, acting without restraint or decency, brought the adolescent rage back to the surface.

Victor knew that he had to to something, that fact burned in him like a star, but what that something was eluded him. His years away gave him perspective, and what he once thought of as brilliant schemes of rebellion, were now little more than pranks and petty acts of theft and violence. Therapeutic, yes, but useless to anyone but himself.

He realized that his anger was clouding his judgement, making him unable to see the most practical course of action. He turned on the radio, hoping that music would relax him enough to think clearly.

"...equiem mass, when we return. And now for local news: The military today arrested political radical author and Hassenstadt resident, Lucia Von Bardas, for making inflammatory and defaming remarks towards the government on a city street. Von Bardas, who's underground writings, deemed a threat to public decency by the legal department, have been cited as a corrupting influence in the lives of many violent juvenile defenders, is being held at the local patrol station pending military tribunal. Von Bardas, formerly a student at the University of North Carolina in the United States of America, is cited by the cultural department as a living example of the dangers of cross cultural contamination. In the village of..."

Victor turned off the radio. He'd gotten an idea.

Watchman
05-14-2010, 06:37 PM
The Fall of Berlin, 1945

The castle has been passed down from Baron to Baron through out the years. A bloody history fills the walls but that is a tale for another day. Intelligence had gotten to the Americans about this castle. Secret The Doomsday weapon was there and was ready to be use. The Germans' last ditch effort.

The next few days were a blood bath. The Americans finally gain entry, with the help of Captain America, to the castle. The horror they say that day was unbelieveable. Dr. Zola, a Nazi scientist, laid against the wall, riddled with bullets.

"What happened?" Captain America asked. A soldier motion to another. He was clutching a star whispering prayers to himself. Across Zola's butcher tables were people sliced up, attached to monstorous machines. They were Jewish going to by their prisoner outfits. Cries of pain came from the table. They were all still alive. God knows what the hell Zola was trying to do.

A shot rang out from down the hall. When Captain America got there the Nazi agent code named "Faustus" was babbling his last words, the suicide was not instant. Another soldier sat in his chair behind his desk, shaking. Faustus had said something to him. Nobody knows what he said but Private Teddy Larson ended up in a mental hospital. The doctor treating him would disappear.

Faustus's mysterious lasts words were "They're coming! They're coming!" The rest is incomperhensible. Perhaps a last warning to his allies or to his enemies

Shots once again opened up. There was another firefight. Captain America once again was face to face with his greatest enemy, the Red Skull. He was bleeding to death. No one tried to save him.

"He...he opened fire on us. We....." All the papers in the room were on fire.

"What were you up to, Skull?" Captain America demanded. The Red Skull coughed up blood.

"Tell me!"

"Doomsday. When it is finish, my reign will begin. The world will burn."

"Hitler is finished, Skull and so are you."

"Ha, the fuhrer is a fool. I win, don't you understand!? I win!" He cackled. Cap turned his back to leave.

"You...you ignorant fool! A curse...yes....the horrors of this castle will fall upon your world and destroy my enemies! I curse you, Captain," he pointed at him, "You will fail! I curse all those that take up your cause! Your line will forever be tainted! Your family will never be able to escape me! I will haunt you forever!" The Red Skull died.
*******
The nightmare doctors poked and prodded his brain. He was made better and they continued their work. Sin had comes and grabbed his shoulder. He looked out of the window of the Geist's former building.

"You gave me a fright."

"Not my time, I have too much to do."

"What now?"

"We are now the proud owners of a billion dollar underground empire. One that stayed in the shadows and bloated into uselessness. Now, we will bottle and sell chaos. A.I.M has made such wonderful new toys to use. Twisted people in the things of nightmares."

"What are you going to do with it?" He had great plans. Things that still needed time. It was best to keep it simple. He press a button on the desk. Holograms of the new breed of costumed people showed up.

"Do? I'm going to kill good."

Eddie Brock
05-14-2010, 10:17 PM
Dr. Otto Octavius

My alarm goes off at exactly 6:30 in the morning. As long as I can remember, I've always been a morning person. Carpe diem. I slide out of bed, switching the alarm off. Today is the day of the Empire State Science Fair. I've been contacted by my old colleague, Curt Connors, as a last-minute replacement for the absent Reed Richards. I can only imagine the disappointment at Richards' unexpected withdrawal from the Fair. He's a celebrity among the scientific community, the appointed Messiah, and every young child looks up to him.

I walk into my bathroom and squint at myself in the mirror. How can I compete with the great Reed Richards? He's a virtual prodigy, and me? Well, the years have slipped by me faster than I realized. Richards has that subtle kind of attractiveness, some kind of "leading man" quality. I've been at least twenty pounds overweight since I was ten years old. Richards is engaged to Susan Storm, a brilliant biologist in a supermodel's body. I harbor a boyhood-esque crush on my fellow researcher, Mary Anders, and I'm too damn pathetic to do anything about it.

I sigh as I step into the shower. Everything will change soon, though. My latest project all but guarantees that. I'm standing on the brink of providing clean, unlimited energy to the world. Even Howard Stark was never able to realize his dream of alternate energy! This experiment will finally put me on the map! And Mary will be right there with me, a queen to inherit the throne of immortality through science! Oh, listen to me. We haven't even had a successful test.

When I get out of the shower, there's a text message waiting for me. It's from Mary. "Keep an eye out for any prodigies today. (;" I smile, knowing that she's awake and thinking about me. I'm making a pact with myself. No longer will I be as soft as my waistline. Starting today, Otto Octavius is going to assert himself. And with God as my witness, I will confess my feelings to Mary, and I will make her fall for me.

Though, not today.

"I'll let you know if I see any," I respond in a text of my own.

***

As we break for lunch, I remember how lousy the food at these Science Fairs is. Staring at my tray in disappointment, feeling like I'm back in high school, I wander into the cafeteria. As I look out over the sea of people, I see a hand shoot into the air. It belongs to my old friend, Dr. Connors. "Otto, I've saved you a seat!" he announces. I make my way over to his table.

"Knew I should have brought my own lunch," I joke.

"Now, now, it's not about the food, Otto," Curt reminds me with a smirk. "Unless, of course, you're the girl with the water purification system." We both laugh. "Not quite a ultralight flight suit, now is it?"

"You know what they say. Necessity is the mother of invention. I drink water more often than I take quick flights around the city," I remark jokingly. It's been too long since I've sat down with some of my old colleagues. Anymore, I'm working myself to the bone. "I am interested to see what the Drago boy has put together, though. Certainly more exciting than the four baking soda volcanoes I saw out on the floor."

"What did you think of the last demonstration?"

"The chemical adhesive?"

Curt nods.

"I'd expect no less from Richard's boy," I reply. "Very promising stuff. Though, you know me. I hate spiders."

Curt smiles. "So tell me about this fusion experiment of yours. You've been more secretive than Stark Industries with the new Iron Men units."

I pat my friend on the shoulder. "Trust me, Curt. Once I've worked out the kinks, this project won't be a best-kept secret for long," I assure him confidently. I may never be as handsome or as respected as Reed Richards, but if there's one thing I've never doubted, it's my scientific ability. "We are talking about an energy revolution. Billions of dollars saved. Imagine a world with unlimited energy. No more pointless bloodshed over resources. Energy, my friend, is the key to the future."

"Mary tells me you've been working on a side project as well," Curt says. "A possible advancement in neural interfacing?"

I smile. "Come down to my lab sometime. I'll show you the harness myself."

***

Curt approaches me after Mr. Drago's demonstration. "Come, Otto. We've got to make our last rounds before deliberation."

I take one last look at Mr. Drago in his moment of glory. He's even won the attention of a pretty, if uptight, girl. I can't help but smile. Soon enough, Otto, that will you. Soon enough, I will be the toast of the town, and I will win the girl. The world will never forget Otto Octavius's name.

Eddie Brock
05-15-2010, 12:31 AM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

OUT ON THE TOWN: PART 3

"You wanted to see me, Mr. Stark?" Happy asks as he enters my workshop. My train of thought broken, I look up from the files on my desk. Ever since my encounter with the stray Harbinger unit, I've dedicated twice as much effort as usual into discovering the leak within Stark Industries. Unfortunately, whoever's been selling Stark weapons and designs has been very careful. I also close a file simply titled "D.E.M." It's a side project I'm working on, but it's still in the early stages.

Smiling, I get up from my desk. "Yes, Happy, I do. Relax, relax. It's nothing serious," I assure him. I pick up a piece of scrap paper and crumple it into a ball. I toss it to Happy, and he drops it in the wastebasket behind him. "Far from it, actually. You know, my father used to have a saying."

"Oh?"

"I can't work with a man unless I have a drink with him," I say with a smirk. Leave it to my father to be a business mogul by day and socialite by night. Of course, I never saw that second side of him. While he was off being the toast of the town, I was left at home. I was never part of that world - until my early twenties, anyway. "It's been a stressful week, but the weekend is here. Let's blow off some steam. I'm buying."

***

"I really don't think I should drink, Mr. Stark," Happy says tentatively as I approach the nightclub's bar. I can hardly hear him over the music. To think, this used to be my life. Now, it's just an escape from my life. "After all, I mean, I drove us here, so---"

"First of all, it's only Mr. Stark at work," I correct him. The bartender puts down two shots in front of us. "Actually, you know what? No. It even sounds weird then. Just call me 'Tony,' or 'boss' if you're so inclined." I pick up one shot and hand the other to Happy. "Secondly, we're not going anywhere for a while, so a few drinks won't hurt."

Happy stares down at the shot contemplatively.

"You'll be sober before we leave," I promise.

Without another word, Happy downs his shot in one gulp. I simply smile.

"Barkeep! Another round."

***

Happy leans against me as we sit on the leather sofas in the VIP section of the nightclub. He's a few drinks in, and he feels like talking, apparently. "But it's like, I think I still love her, you know? I mean, we never really got...what's the word?...closure. Okay, so she broke off the engagement, but it wasn't like she didn't love me. The timing just wasn't right, you know?" Happy drunkenly rambles.

"Happy, buddy," I begin as patiently as I can, "Pepper's not here right now. You're in Malibu, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful, attractive women at one of the most exclusive nightclubs with Tony Stark as your wing man." I gently push Happy off me until he's sitting up on his own. "I say, at least for tonight, you stop thinking about Pepper and start taking advantage of what's right in front of you."

"You're right. You know what? You're so right. I mean, here I am, moaning about my girl troubles to Tony Stark...you've probably been with more women than I can count. So you're right." Happy stands up suddenly, surprisingly well done for someone as liquored up as he is. "Let's find the girls. Where are they?"

I stand up and throw my arm around Happy's shoulders. "They're all around us," I say, motioning to all the women in the nightclub. "Tell you what, though. Why don't we find those two girls we were talking to earlier? The ones we bought drinks for? You liked them, right?"

Happy smiles.

"Thought so." I squint, searching for any sight of those girls. Finally, I see the perfect figures of the blond and her brunette friend. "There they are. Alright, Happy, here's how we're going to do this." I look at him, hoping that he's not too drunk for a little wing man strategy. "You take the brunette...what's her name?...the stewardess. And I will take the model. Got it?"

Happy nods.

"Let's do it, champ." I lead Happy over to the women, who are chatting amongst themselves. I clear my throat, and the two women turn around. They immediately smile upon recognizing us. Happy slips under my arm and begins chatting with the brunette, just as we planned. Smiling, drink in hand, I say to the blond, "Well, well, well. Looks like we meet again, Millie the model."

"That we do, Tony the billionaire..."

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/77/898833-millie_poster_by_scottjc.jpg

"...and I'm so glad we did."

bkhedr
05-15-2010, 03:10 AM
The red hot gun clatters to the ground as I pull my hand back. The assailant, I'm pretty sure he's robotic in nature, lurches towards me, his body clanking against the Helicarrier's metal floors.

"I have a feeling this will be pretty pointless, but..."

I rush towards the android, my fist held high preparing to strike.

http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


The Vision wills his body to become intangible once more so that the charging soldier's fist simply falls through him.

The soldier is still off balance when the Vision solidifies himself once more and pulls shut the heavily reinforced door to the main frame just as a host of armed men enter the corridor beyond.

The silent synthezoid uses his optic heat beams to weld the heavy door shut before spinning on his heel just in time to take a snap kick to the chin from the soldier. The kick is powerful and perfectly placed and it knocks the Vision into the door with a crack.

Andy C.
05-16-2010, 03:09 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

I sit slumped in my seat, trying (and not succeeding) to hide how dejected I am after the last couple of presentations. Harry is in the seat right next to me, trying (and also not succeeding) to cheer me up.

"Come on, man, your demonstration was great! I mean, yeah, if you ever ask me to drop a half-ton of bricks on you again I'll just call the mental ward, but still, you knocked it out of the park!"

"Yeah, and then Blackie Drago flew overhead and took a great big dump on it," I mutter. "I mean, his demonstration was just....it was just awesome. I mean, mine was cool, but that was just some straight-up Steven Spielberg 'capture the imagination' stuff right there. Useful or not, I'm screwed going up against that."

"Okay, but that's one guy, and there are five spots that win the money, right? I mean, his was the only one that just out-cooled yours."

"Dude, did you not see Gwen's demonstration?! She freaking drank water that was laced with arsenic and radioactive pellets!"

"Wait, that poison stuff was real?!" Eddie does a double-take before turning to Gwen, who's sitting to my left. "That could've killed you, babe! The fact that you're even still alive--"

"--is proof of how well my water purifier works, I know," she says, satisfied with herself. "And of course the toxins were real--this was a scientific demonstration, not a magic trick."

"Yeah, that was just too cool," I say to back her up. "At least one of us is gonna be a lock for the top five."

"Oh, will you stop running yourself down? You'll do fine, Peter. Trust me, we're both going to do fine."

Harry could try and build me up all day to no avail, but when Gwen says it...I believe it.

"Yeah," I say with a smile, "it'll be great. ESU, here we come!"

As the last demonstration finishes, we all sit in anticipation. In a moment, Dr. Connors and Dr. Octavius will let us know which of us will have a real future in store for them.

In the meantime, all that's left to do is wait.



ELSEWHERE....


"The suits are ready to go, and I've got two dozen guys ready to put them on," Herman Schultz said into the phone while he worked on the circuitry of his 'Shocker' suit.

"Good," said the Big Man on the other end of the line. "Don't let me down tonight, Schultz. This show of force isn't just to keep yourself in my good graces, after all. If my organization is going to make any headway against Silvermane or the police, this sort of dramatic demonstration is a must."

"Understood, Big Man. The NYPD won't know what hit them."

"Don't forget your primary target. Captain Stacy dies tonight."

"Absolutely. Schultz out."

As he hung up, he went over the battle plan in his head, as he had done a hundred times today. By sunset tonight, one of the city's most heavily-armed police precincts would be in ruins, and their beloved hero Captain would be in a body bag.

In the meantime, all that was left to do was wait.

Eddie Brock
05-16-2010, 09:48 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

COLD SHOULDER: PART 1

"Happy, set a lunch date with Ms. Millie Collins immediately," I say, tossing a napkin with Millie's number across the desk to Happy. He picks up the napkin, examines the number, and smirks. It's not every night that you come across a model with a personality. It's not every night that a woman denies a private tour of my penthouse. Millie intrigues me. "Pepper, are my numbers correct?"

Pepper looks up from the D.E.M. file. "Everything looks in order, Tony," she reports. I've decided, hesitantly, to include Pepper on my newest side project. After all, I'm not exactly a self-proclaimed math whiz, and I can't afford to make mistakes - not with what this project deals with. "What, exactly, is this project about?"

"Just a little insurance, Pepper. You can never be too safe," I caution. "Jarvis, what's the news?"

"Sir, you might be interested to know that it is currently snowing outside," my robotic butler announces.

I sit up straight in my seat. Pepper and Happy, too, stop what they're doing. "Snowing? In Malibu? In May?" I ask perplexed. I tap my fully touchscreen desk, bringing up the five-day weather forecast. "Weather report calls for some clouds later in the week, sure, but it's supposed to be 70 and sunny today." I press another button which converts the walls of my workshop into giant windows.

"It's really snowing."

"Sir, there's an incident down at Stark Industries," Jarvis says. "One that might require Iron Man's attention?"

Jarvis converts one of the windows into a television screen. The snow is falling even heavier down at the office. Through the swirling, white winds, I can make out the silhouette of a person. He's marching through the courtyard, freezing things by pointing at them.

"Jarvis, I want you to run a search of all Stark Industries files - employee profiles, project files, all of it. Look for anything involving cryogenics, and cross-reference with HR reports - grievances, terminations, etc." I walk to my bookshelf. A simple retina scan confirms my identity, allowing the shelves to slide open and reveal my armory. I step into the center of the room, and the robotic assembly unit Pepper designed takes care of the rest. In less than thirty seconds, I'm fully suited-up and ready to go. "Anything yet, Jarvis?"

"Downloading results now."

The windows in my workshop retract, creating an exit for me. "The flight to Stark Industries will take approximately 96 seconds. Bring me up to speed on the way," I say before activating the thrusters. I salute Pepper and Happy before taking off into the snowy Malibu skies.

"I found one match, sir," Jarvis reports. My HUD is flooded with files and images related to Jarvis's search. "Former Stark Industries employee Donald Gill was working on a cryogenic suit. The project was aimed at fighting forest fires and the like." There's a blueprint of Gill's suit displayed front and center.

"You said former employee?"

"Yes, sir. Gill was terminated upon the discovery of his true identity." Gill's suit is replaced by a mugshot. "Real name: Gregor Shapanka. Origin: Czech Republic. In his home country, he was a convicted criminal. He was released early on good behavior and defected to the United States. There was some suspicion that Shapanka was selling company secrets to the Czech. He was subsequently terminated, and his clearances were revoked."

We're nearing Stark Industries. "Alright, analyze Shapanka's project files. Find me a weakness."

"There's one problem, sir."

I land in the courtyard, and I see Shapanka several yards ahead of me. He must've heard me land because he turns to face me.

"The suit he's currently wearing doesn't match the designs on file," Jarvis explains. "He must've built this suit at home with stolen equipment."

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/77/230200-1555-blizzard.jpg

"You must be Iron Man. Call me Blizzard."

TrueMastermind
05-16-2010, 10:26 PM
http://img243.imageshack.us/img243/4340/sinisterbanner.jpg

"Listen up!"

Like obedient dogs, the Marauders take a break from their prior actions and perk up their ears to listen to what their leader has to say. Nearly none of them acknowledge Mastermind's presence.

"Due to some intelligent advice, I have decided no to go after this 'Hood' character. A much more wise, deadly plan has taken it's place." When those last words escape his pale lips, a wave of mixed emotions spread throughout the team. Longshot frowns at having his only idea rejected while Polaris raises her eyebrows in interest. As usual, Harpoon's expression remains a blank slate while a couple of feet away, Adam X mimics his friend Longshot's mood.

But Sinister doesn't give a hot damn about the feelings of his team, he has a plan, and they were going to execute it without question. Simple as that.

"Fetch me Senator Robert Kelly."

Eddie Brock
05-16-2010, 11:21 PM
Dr. Otto Octavius

Curt taps once on the microphone, causing an ear-splitting interference which effectively grabs the attention of everyone in earshot. Sheepishly, Curt apologizes, "Sorry about that, folks." He looks back at me, and I smile at his small public embarrassment. "Well, this is the moment you've all been waiting for! Dr. Octavius and I have deliberated, carefully considering each one of your fine projects, and we have reached a consensus on the top five projects of this year's Empire State University Science Fair!"

There's an enthusiastic round of applause at this. Everyone is understandably excited. Frankly, I'm excited for them. It's always nice to see young people excited about science. Gives me hope for a brighter future.

"As you all know, the top five projects will win the grand prizes, but I would like to remind you all that it's not about being the best," Curt says. Oh, here we go. The "you're all winners" speech. "I sincerely hope that each and every one of you will continue to pursue your scientific interests, because Dr. Octavius and I are getting too old for this." There's scattered laughter. I smile, but Curt's comment is somewhat right. The clock is ticking on us.

"Well now, I know you've all be waiting in anxious suspense all day, so I won't prolong your mental torture any longer. Announcing our winners is our very special guest, Dr. Otto Octavius." Curt steps to the side of the podium and claps. Soon, the entire room is applauding with him. Of course, they're not really applauding for me.

Not yet, anyway.

I smile as I adjust the microphone. "I don't think I've ever had this many people interested in what I had to say," I joke. The crowd laughs nervously. The moment of truth has arrived. I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out the list of winners. "Well, I won't waste any more time. Dr. Connors and I would ask that the chosen five wait until all winners have been announced until you come up on stage. We'll begin with the fifth place winner."

I clear my throat.

"In fifth place, we have Mr. Blackie Drago and his Vertical Ultralight Takeoff Unit for Reconnaissance and Espionage." Very, very promising work. Unfortunately, Curt and I had to agree that lack of real, practical use for this technology ultimately hurt the project. Still, I think I might do well by keeping a close eye on Mr. Drago.

"In fourth place, we have Mr. Robert Farrell and his rocket-propelled, gyroscoping skateboard." I'mforced to smile a bit at this one. The project suffers from a lack of practicality - not unlike the VULTURE - but the gyroscoping wheels could prove to be very useful in the right hands. Plus, Curt and I had to admit we were a little impressed by the flashiness of a teenager skateboarding up a wall.

"In third place, we have Mr. Steven Petty and his Living Brain." Now, this was a feat of engineering. Mr. Petty designed a sentient computer program capable of answering any question. Curt jokingly asked it, "When is a car not a car?" And the program answered, in a serious monotone, "When it turns into a driveway." A tad childish, but if robotics are truly the future, then Mr. Petty has a leg up on the competition.

"In second place, we have Ms. Gwen Stacy and her water purification and filtration system." Finally, some practicality. While some projects pulled out all the bells and whistles, Curt and I were forced to remind ourselves why we got into science in the first place. And the answer is that we wanted to solve real problems. To that end, we had to credit Ms. Stacy above jetpacks and skateboards.

"Finally, in first place, we have Ms. Debra Whitman and her genetically-modified corn crops." It was a tough decision, but Curt and I ultimately agreed with Ms. Whitman's project had the perfect blend of scientific ingenuity and real-world practicality. With the proper funding, Ms. Whitman could take her crops to the national level, even. She has a real chance at changing her world, and she's not even out of high school.

Curt walks up to the podium next to me and throws his arm over my shoulders. "Let's hear it for all our winners and for everyone who came out today!" The applause is bittersweet - a mix of genuine displays of respect and polite admissions of defeat. Over the crowd, Curt announces, "Those five are free to come onto stage now and claim their prizes!"

I look out over the crowd, trying to spot a few particular faces. I want to have an aside with some of the contestants before they leave, and I think I might start with Mr. Parker...

Byrd Man
05-17-2010, 10:27 AM
The Vision wills his body to become intangible once more so that the charging soldier's fist simply falls through him.

The soldier is still off balance when the Vision solidifies himself once more and pulls shut the heavily reinforced door to the main frame just as a host of armed men enter the corridor beyond.


The silent synthezoid uses his optic heat beams to weld the heavy door shut before spinning on his heel just in time to take a snap kick to the chin from the soldier. The kick is powerful and perfectly placed and it knocks the Vision into the door with a crack.


I knock the robot flat on his back, and a throbbing foot is what I have to show for it. The machine attempts to get up, I drive another kick into and make it fall back on to the floor.

"What are you here for?" I ask it. I'm convinced it's a machine, but my run in with Iron Man showed that looks can be deceiving.

Andy C.
05-17-2010, 02:35 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, Dr. Connors and Dr. Octavius make their way back onto the stage. Here we go, moment of truth.

"This is it!" Gwen whispers in anticipation. "This is so exciting!"

"And slightly terrifying, yeah."

"Pete, what did we tell you about worrying like----AAAAAH, Jesus!"

Harry's outburst is caused by the practically deafening feedback whine from Dr. Connors tapping on the microphone. Somewhere up in the sound booth I'm sure our theater class's head technician Lisa Skye is pulling her hair out.

"Sorry about that, folks." Dr. Connors says, embarrassed. "Well, this is the moment you've all been waiting for! Dr. Octavius and I have deliberated, carefully considering each one of your fine projects, and we have reached a consensus on the top five projects of this year's Empire State University Science Fair!"

All of us applaud, nobody wanting to admit just how ridiculously nervous we are.

"As you all know, the top five projects will win the grand prizes, but I would like to remind you all that it's not about being the best," Dr. Connors continues.

"Oh Lord, is he really doing the 'everyone's a winner' routine now?" Eddie scoffs before Gwen elbows him in the ribs.

"I sincerely hope that each and every one of you will continue to pursue your scientific interests, because Dr. Octavius and I are getting too old for this."

We all laugh, not because it's a particularly funny joke, but just so he doesn't feel the embarrassment of getting crickets from the crowd. It's "grampa just cracked a funny for the Rotary Club" laughter.

"Well now, I know you've all be waiting in anxious suspense all day, so I won't prolong your mental torture any longer. Announcing our winners is our very special guest, Dr. Otto Octavius."

"Oh jeez, now I'm getting butterflies."

"Shut up; if you're freaking out now, what chance do I have?"

Doctor Octavius steps up to the microphone, and all eyes are on him.

"I don't think I've ever had this many people interested in what I had to say," he says, and again we give the grampa-at-the-Rotary-Club polite laugh. "Well, I won't waste any more time. Dr. Connors and I would ask that the chosen five wait until all winners have been announced until you come up on stage. We'll begin with the fifth place winner."

I dig my hands into my chair's arm rests so they stop shaking nervously.

"In fifth place, we have Mr. Blackie Drago and his Vertical Ultralight Takeoff Unit for Reconnaissance and Espionage."

Ah, of course, they had to give Drago something, just on sheer cool-factor alone. No big surprise there.

"In fourth place, we have Mr. Robert Farrell and his rocket-propelled, gyroscoping skateboard."

"Wow, really? They gave fourth place to the guy who came up with a new way for skateboarders to maim themselves?"

"Hey, anything that gets rid of skateboarders is a valuable contribution to the world," Gwen says with a wicked grin, and we both laugh a little underneath the applause.

"In third place, we have Mr. Steven Petty and his Living Brain."

"Okay, I saw that one," Harry says, "I'm not a huge computer buff, but it was pretty freaking cool."

"Yeah, I'll give them that one. AI is always fun to see when it actually works."

Then I realize that there are only two spots left. Now we're getting really serious here. My heart starts pounding like a machine gun, and I clamp my hands so hard into the arm-rests that I think I'm starting to crush the plastic. Fortunately, everyone's too focused on Octavius to notice.

"In second place, we have Ms. Gwen Stacy and her water purification and filtration system."

"OH MY GOD!!!" Gwen blurts out, shooting out of her chair the second Octavius says her name. Eddie and I stand up at the same time to congratulate her (and sit her back down without causing a scene), and she practically throws herself into my arms.

...I have to admit, something in the back of my head that should really know better by now really likes having her this close. It doesn't just feel good, it feels....right.

Before I do anything stupid, though, she pulls away, realizing that she should be hugging Eddie first, and does exactly that. Eddie goes for a kiss, but she turns her head just slightly enough that only someone with enhanced senses like me could see it, so that he only gets cheek instead of mouth.

Finally, we sit back down as the applause dies down, Gwen still so pumped that she's all but bouncing up and down in her seat. We all look back and forth, and collectively realize....

"Oh wow, all that's left is first place..."

"And Octavius said you were a lock to make the top five...."

"You don't think I could...."

"Hey, go big or go home, right, Pete?"

"Yeah," I say, and that's pretty much all I can manage. Here it is, all or nothing.

Gwen grabs my hand and squeezes tight. ESU, here we come.

"Finally, in first place, we have Ms. Debra Whitman and her genetically-modified corn crops."




".....Oh. Right."

After a couple of seconds, I remember to applaud for Debra. And okay, yeah, she did have a really good project, one that would probably save more lives than my stupid super-glue stuff. Still, no top five means no scholarship. No scholarship means no ESU. And no ESU...means no Gwen.

....wow. I never really pieced it together quite like that before. What does that say?

"Let's hear it for all our winners and for everyone who came out today!" We all applaud, playing the part of the good losers who are gracious in defeat. I know the whole thing is supposed to be a big collaboration in the name of science, but a competition's a competition, and losing always sucks. "Those five are free to come onto stage now and claim their prizes!"

Gwen gives me a guilty look, disappointed that I won't be joining her with the other winners. I do my best to hide my own disappointment, then reach for my camera bag.

"Well, go on up, you deserve it," I say. "I'm gonna have to get some shots for the school paper anyway, or Glory will have my head on a stick."

As the crowd stands to give the top five a respectful ovation, I have to shove and squirm my way out of the row of proud parents and frustrated students in order to get a proper picture. I zoom in just to the right degree that you can make out enough details but still have the top five and the judges in frame, fiddle with the lens til it's good and focused, then start snapping pic after pic.

About three or four in, I realize that all my shots are off-center--I keep putting Gwen in the center of the frame instead of Debra. I correct my little mistake and get some photos that the paper can actually use.

Once I get all the shots I need, I put my camera down and sigh. I guess a career in science really wasn't in the cards for me anyway. Between this and the incident with those three super-heroes fighting that Hulk monster yesterday, I'm starting to think that maybe I'm just a supporting role in everyone else's lives, and not the lead in my own.

Maybe that's why I'm such a good photographer--I'm great at witnessing other people's moments of glory.

Rain Dog
05-17-2010, 07:08 PM
http://img442.imageshack.us/img442/3980/howardbannercopy2.png


We’re back at Knowhere. The raccoon and his buddies have been telling the captain everything that went down on Earth as I sit, huddled up in a corner, trembling. And as he recants the nauseatingly violent and mind-meltingly disturbing details, I come to the horrifying realization that I am essentially trapped inside a metal box floating in space, surrounded by psychopaths with no means of escaping. Thousands of miles from any civilization or sanity. No one back home knows where I am. No one on this new Earth knows where I am. I could die right now and no one would ever know.

“…And that’s how we found the location of SCYLLA’s headquarters.”

“Excellent job, team. Howard, why so horrified beyond belief?”

“They…killed a man,” I whisper. I wasn’t trying to whisper but that’s all that came out o’the old bill when I tried to talk.

“Yes?”

“They killed an innocent man…they decapitated an innocent man!” I say, a bit louder.

“Right. They followed standard protocol.”

“An innocent man is dead! Beheaded in his own frickin’ home!” I shout, tears welling in my eyes.

“Right. Protocol.”

“Protocol?!”

Star Lord tapped a few button on the Knowhere supercomputer and an extensive list of rules was displayed on its massive monitor.

“Rule thirty-eight, sub-section B. ‘After sought information is extracted from informant/defector/prisoner, termination of subject is required, preferably through decapitation or vaporization.’ Bang-up job, team.”

“Woot-woot!”

“Are you people insane?! You didn’t extract any information! This crazy yellow ***** kicked his ass up and down and then had the sponsor guy take his head off with a football! And then you sick bastards all laughed about it afterwards!”

“Howard, I don’t know how much clearer I can make this for you.”

“Oh, what, is that protocol too?! Huh? Is laughing at a man you just brutally murdered protocol?!”

Star Lord stared at me in utter silence and turned back to his computer. He scrolled down the list a bit.

“Fifty two, sub-section C. ‘Upon completion of mission, one team member is required to make a quip relevant to the mission’s subject matter or to any methods used to complete the mission. Puns acceptable, non-sequiturs not permitted. Subsequent group laugh is mandatory.’”

“…You’ve gotta be ****ing kidding me…”

"Besides, we got plenty of information. Look what the subject said after we asked him where SCYLLA’s HQ is:"

Rocket tapped a few buttons on the computer and a holgram displaying that poor bastard's last few moments played in the center of the room.


“Oh God…Please…Please…”


"See?"

“What the **** are you talking about?!”

"Oh. God. Please. Clearly, he was referring to Ogap’li VI of the Anvari galaxy."

“Of course! That wretched hive of scum and villainy is well known for its…scum and villainy.”

“Rocket, are you sure about this? I mean. . .it’s my understanding that you have a bit of history with that planet.”

“Doop’s right, Rocket. Are you sure your personal problems aren’t getting tangled up with our mission?”

"I can assure you, what’s in the past is in the past, Star Lord."

“Very well. Adam, generate a wormhole that will transport us into Ogap’li VI’s orbit.”

“Can do, captain.”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore…”

“Hang on tight, guys!”

“I just wanna go home, man,” I sobbed.

“Here we go!”

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

http://img535.imageshack.us/img535/3899/wormhole.jpg

Mr. Marko
05-17-2010, 10:42 PM
http://teamjetpack104.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/Blackie-Banner-copy.jpg

"I still can't believe how awesome this thing is!" Debra and I sat on the bleechers after my presentation as the rest of the students filed back into the school. She held the VULTURE suit on her lap and ran her hands over the metal casing. "And to think the repulsor tech is completely heatless."

I lean back and smile. "Yeah, I don't understand why Stark Industries don't use it more. After the initial cost gouge its amazingly efficient."

She picks the pack off her lap and places it on mine. "I guess it takes a lot more power to lift a huge Iron Man than it would to lift a high school student."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so." I set the VULTURE pack next to me and turn to face Debra. "So, how come I haven't seen you at the school before?"

She blushes a bit. "Me?"

"Yes, you." I smile at her. I don't think she's had very much experience with actual guys before.

She awkwardly brushes her hair behind her ear. "Well, I, um, have been skipping class a little bit the past week or two to finish up my project. I worked hard to get ahead in my classes so that I would be able to give all my time to it."

"Wow. That's...pretty dedicated."

"Yeah, well, I really need to get into ESU. My dad left us when I was little, and I really have no way to get into school. Sure my mom works hard, but we're still paying rent and living paycheque to paycheque." She leans back next to me. "I just want something more out of life. I really know that I have it in me to change the world, y'know?"

I smile. "I...I think I do, actually."

She fidgets awkwardly. "You know, I don't think I've ever told anybody that." She leaned forward, clearly feeling uncomfortable.

"Well, if its any consolation, I don't really talk to anybody at this school." I shrug a bit, leaning forward to look at her. "You know, new kid stuff. Your secret's safe with me."

Debra lets a small grin escape her lips.

"Well, let's go see what else the competition has to offer."

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, this is the moment you've all been waiting for! Dr. Octavius and I have deliberated, carefully considering each one of your fine projects, and we have reached a consensus on the top five projects of this year's Empire State University Science Fair!"

Debra is sitting next to me as the entire student body gathered to await the results. "This is so exciting!"

"As you all know, the top five projects will win the grand prizes, but I would like to remind you all that it's not about being the best. I sincerely hope that each and every one of you will continue to pursue your scientific interests, because Dr. Octavius and I are getting too old for this."

Debra laughs awkwardly loud, her voice carrying through the gymnasium. She looks at me with a smile, seemingly unaware of the awkward moment.

"Well now, I know you've all be waiting in anxious suspense all day, so I won't prolong your mental torture any longer. Announcing our winners is our very special guest, Dr. Otto Octavius."

Octavius steps up to the pulpit. "I don't think I've ever had this many people interested in what I had to say." Debra gives another loud and awkward chuckle."Well, I won't waste any more time. Dr. Connors and I would ask that the chosen five wait until all winners have been announced until you come up on stage. We'll begin with the fifth place winner."

I look at her. "Well, here goes."

Suddenly, she grabs my hand tightly. "Good luck." Wait...she grabbed my hand? I'm holding hands with Debra.

"In fifth place, we have Mr. Blackie Drago and his Vertical Ultralight Takeoff Unit for Reconnaissance and Espionage."

I look at Debra with excitement. "You did it! Congratulations!"

"Holy crap! I made it!" I smile at her with excitement. I mean, I was fairly confident that I would get in, but now that I heard my own name, it felt awesome. It was as if my entire life had lead to this point.

"You made it!"

Octavius continues reading the names of the winners. "In fourth place, we have Mr. Robert Farrell and his rocket-propelled, gyroscoping skateboard."

I saw that guy's presentation. It was pretty cool actually. Amazing gyroscope tech implemented into that piece of hardware.

"In third place, we have Mr. Steven Petty and his Living Brain."

I look at Debra, who is getting more and more nervous. She's still holding my hand, and I can feel her sweaty palm on mine as she nervously clenches it.

"Hey." She looks at me, her nervousness clear as day. I smile at her. "You're going to do fine. Relax."

Debra nods slightly, taking a deep breath before turning her attention back to the front.

"In second place, we have Ms. Gwen Stacy and her water purification and filtration system."

From across the room, I see Gwen stand up in excitement, soon followed by Parker and Brock. "OH MY GOD!!!" The two of them each hug Gwen and they sit down.

I look at Debra, who is white as a ghost. "Oh my God, Blackie. That only leaves..." I squeeze her hand tightly as she nervously leans forward.

"Finally, in first place, we have Ms. Debra Whitman and her genetically-modified corn crops."

Debra looks at me in disbelief. "Blackie...did he just...?"

"He just said your name Debra!"

"If he said my name that means-"

"You won, Debra! You won!!!"

"Oh my God, I won! I WON!" She throws her arms around me and gives me a huge hug.

Dr. Connors comes back to the pulpit and leans into the mic. "Let's hear it for all our winners and for everyone who came out today! Those five are free to come onto stage now and claim their prizes!" Debra and I both stand up and walk toward the stage. As the applause fills the gym, we each recieve a booklet full of information about ESU, as well as a small trophy indicating our achievement. As Debra recieves her reward, she stands infront of all four of us and glowingly recieves her award. She looks over at me and I notice a small tear in her eye.

Its strange, but in a moment that I have been waiting for for most of my high school life, it seems to mean much more to her than winning first place would ever mean to me.

Eddie Brock
05-17-2010, 10:58 PM
Dr. Otto Octavius

"Photography, eh?" I announce as I approach Peter Parker. I try my best to sound light and jovial. I can see the disappointment in his eyes, but Peter has nothing to be disappointed about. There's something else, though. I follow his line of sight and am not particularly surprised to see it ending on the girl. I should have recognized that look. It's one I'm quite familiar with. Longing. "You have quite the list of talents, Mr. Parker."

He doesn't say anything at first. I understand. After all, I am the guy who just stood up at a podium and indirectly told him he had lost the competition. However, I want to set the record straight because I don't want Peter to be discouraged. A mind like his shouldn't go to waste.

"Do you have time for a quick word between colleagues?" I ask.

sabetoonth
05-18-2010, 02:43 AM
Sabretooth enters the Blackbird and takes a seat for take off.

“I know what he told you kid.” He says casually as if the threat of the gun were nothing. “I wont be getting out of hand, not enough to worry about.” The engines ignited and the jet started to move. The doors finished opening fully just in time as the jet plane exited the hanger.

Genosha Mutant Prison Camp 1992

Victor snuck up on the camp from the woods, a liberation attack on one of the island nation’s slave camps. Like the Nazis in WW2 mutants were capture, and placed in camps with collars that nullified their powers. Eric had planned this mission with his council having their parts. A guard came towards Victor’s position, and he crouched down in the brush.

“theres something over here I swear to god man!” another guard came to the spot with a less enthusiastic look on his face.

“Mhm, and I think you need you get some vacation time” he turned his back on his partner and headed back to their post at the gate just around the corner.

“When the freaks invade and try to take over you'll see I was right!” the paranoid guard yelled back to his partner.

“YOU MEAN LIKE THIS!” Victor leaped from his place and crushed his throat with his forearm. Victor’s head snapped to the side and he headed off to the position of the other guard.

“Hey, Simmons ,get you ass bac-“ Victor came up behind the guard. Wrapping his arm around his neck; pulling up and to the right with a satisfying crack as the bones broke and Sabretooth let the body fall to the ground.

“Logan, “ Victor whispered into the headset he had in his ear. "Guards on the west side are down, Marko make your move, but be quiet if you can, don’t want the whole damned Genoshan army on us.” Victor motioned to the Marauders giving the command to move in, Scalp Hunter was the first out of the brush. Follow by Blockbuster, Vertigo and Gambit.

Sabretooth hopped the fence and began slaying the guards stealthily. As he finished the perimeter of the corner building, Cain Marko the Juggernaut barreled through the fence knocking many guards against the concrete walls, splashes of crimson blood painting them. The bullets bounces off of Marko’s newly stolen microweave suit as if the ammunition were gumdrops. Scalp Hunter took parts of his armor and using his technomorph abilities reconfigured them into an automatic machine gun opening fire on the black clad soldiers. Blackbuster went in swinging his super strength killing the humans as they made contact with his fists. Vertigo stood behind Victor, using her mutant abilites to set the enemy off balance.

When it was all over Victor ventured into the building, blood and bodies everywhere, in the building it was all human, though the Homo Sapein basterds had killed Blockbuster with a rocket launcher. Vertigo had been injured, but she’d live, and Gambit was just fine, as was Scalp Hunter and Marko.

“Logan, they seem to have some kind of vault flull of mutants here in the main building.” Victor said to his comrade through the earpiece.“I’m checking it out.” Victor took his steps down into the sub levels of the compound’s main building. It was horrifying just to smell it. Death. the smell was everywhere. But through it all Victor continued to walk, the walls were lined with cell doors, and the contents of the cells were not long living mutants, but massacred mutants.

“Logan, they’re all dead, every last one.”

“C'mon Vic, lets get you out of there before the army shows up, that was quite the commotion.” Logan’s voice went through one ear and out the other.

“Wait Logan, I’ve got a scent” Victor moved towards the curved double doors attached to a cell.

“Victor, you said it yourself they're all dead, why would they leave any alive?” Victor ignored Logan as he continued to the door.

“I told ya Logan” Victor grabbed the doors and with all his might began to force them open. “I’m picking up a scent, and I am not leaving anyone here to die. “the doors began to give and light filtered in from the room. “Not if I have anything to say about it!” The doors finally gave and opened wide, inside the small room was an equally small child. It was a she, her clothes were green rags, and it may have been a trick of the light but her skin seemed pink. Regardless Victor reached a hand out to her. The look in her eyes was shear terror.

“C'mon girl, its OK, I wont hurt you, I'm a mutant, like you.” She slowly moved towards Victor, who took her in his arms and cradled her, she must have been what, five? He thought to himself. “A kid Logan, somebody’s kid.” Her eyes were pale green, and they looked up at Victor blinking.
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/2/29735/690024-blink02.jpg

MANHATTAN
“Ma’am have you seen this man, he’s short, about 5 foot ten inches” Victor showed the woman the photograph of Logan. She shook her head and pointed at a man across the street and said how he had claimed to see a group of freaks in tights fighting.
Victor approached the man, he was black, dressed in a red T-shirt and and jeans. “Sir, have you seen this man?” Victor held up the picture again and asked the same question. This time the witness tells his name, Samuel Wilson, and retells what he saw, a scuffle between a freaky ninja dude in tights, a pale woman with a dot tattoo on her eye and a man fitting Logan’s discription. He said they went northwest.
“Oh yeah, that chick with the tattoo, her name, I met her before, said her name was Thurman.” Mr Sam Wilson revealed to the mutant before him.
“Thank you Mr Wilson, your information will help bring in a dangerous fugitive.” Creed recited rahter unenthusiastically. He spoke into a walkie talkie on his coat lapel and gave the order to return to the jet.
As they boarded the plane Victor directed Hank to set it to a hovering autopilot set on a northern course.
“OK, we don’t know how Logan and this pack of mercenaries or assasins are traveling, for all we know they have a helicopter or a goddamned batmobile.” Victor was standing opposite the team, preparing to give his orders. “When we find it, im goin to board it, if its bigger then a helicopter me Kurt and Psylocke will board and force a landing.” Victor instructed the team, he had played this out in his head since he had been inducted to the team, then told Logan had a new team working with him. “Hank, we spot him you take over for autopilot, Calvin, you and me are on look out duty, everyone else keep an eye out for anything in the air heading North.” Victor walked over to the back of the plane and looked out over the New York state landscape, Logan was out there somewhere, and Victor will find him, and he’ll bring him in, any cost. “Sage, access the computer, search surname Thurman, female, distinguishing mark a patch tattoo on her left eye” Victor commanded. This would be a long hunting trip.

Andy C.
05-18-2010, 02:51 AM
"Photography, eh?" I announce as I approach Peter Parker. I try my best to sound light and jovial. I can see the disappointment in his eyes, but Peter has nothing to be disappointed about. There's something else, though. I follow his line of sight and am not particularly surprised to see it ending on the girl. I should have recognized that look. It's one I'm quite familiar with. Longing. "You have quite the list of talents, Mr. Parker."

He doesn't say anything at first. I understand. After all, I am the guy who just stood up at a podium and indirectly told him he had lost the competition. However, I want to set the record straight because I don't want Peter to be discouraged. A mind like his shouldn't go to waste.

"Do you have time for a quick word between colleagues?" I ask.




"Ummm, sure, I guess," I say, not entirely sure why Dr. Octavius would want to talk to one of the losers before chatting with the folks who actually won.

"No, er, no hard feelings about the contest. I mean, I'm not bitter or anything. A little deflated, I guess, but it's not like I'm going to carry a grudge. But, um, anyway....what did you want to talk to me about?"

Eddie Brock
05-18-2010, 01:53 PM
"Ummm, sure, I guess," I say, not entirely sure why Dr. Octavius would want to talk to one of the losers before chatting with the folks who actually won.

"No, er, no hard feelings about the contest. I mean, I'm not bitter or anything. A little deflated, I guess, but it's not like I'm going to carry a grudge. But, um, anyway....what did you want to talk to me about?"
"Well, I'd like to start with a confession," I admit hesitantly. "I think your project is easily one of the top five here today. Great stuff - especially from someone your age."

Peter looks at me in a mixture of confusion and surprise.

"A little advice - from one scientist to another - research a better way of applying your adhesive. You mentioned yourself that the demonstration took a while to set up, and that's what really hurt the practicality of your project," I explain. "I believe - and I think you'll find Dr. Connors agrees - that with a little tweaking, your project could have been in the top three. So don't look at losing as discouragement. Rather, we were trying to push you to greater heights. I see your potential, Mr. Parker."

Andy C.
05-19-2010, 05:55 AM
"Well, I'd like to start with a confession," I admit hesitantly. "I think your project is easily one of the top five here today. Great stuff - especially from someone your age."

Peter looks at me in a mixture of confusion and surprise.

"A little advice - from one scientist to another - research a better way of applying your adhesive. You mentioned yourself that the demonstration took a while to set up, and that's what really hurt the practicality of your project," I explain. "I believe - and I think you'll find Dr. Connors agrees - that with a little tweaking, your project could have been in the top three. So don't look at losing as discouragement. Rather, we were trying to push you to greater heights. I see your potential, Mr. Parker."

"Well, umm, thanks," I say, unsure of how to really respond, considering I thought they had just lumped me in with the potato-battery flashlights and baking-soda volcanoes. "I know my compound is really only half an invention without a better dispenser. Chemistry is really what I'm good at, but not so much when it comes to mechanical engineering. That's more up Gwen's alley, as you errr, can already guess since her invention got second place. But I'm definitely going to keep it up. Thanks for the pick-me-up, Doctor; I really needed it."

As Gwen and the other winners make their way off of the stage, she's flanked by Eddie and Harry, both of whom throw an arm around her in congratulations. I see Blackie Drago and Debra Whitman heading offstage together too, and I feel a little pang of jealousy in my gut. Not because they won and I didn't--well, sure, a little bit of that--and not because Blackie seems to have softened Deb's notoriously icy heart--she's pretty cute, yeah, but way too snooty about herself. I'm jealous because everyone here seems to have someone to celebrate their moment with, and I'm standing off to the side, on my own, with nothing but a "maybe if you'd tried a little harder" to show for it.

The gang eventually head towards me, Harry leading the charge.

"Hey Pete, we're gonna head to Romita's to buy the queen brain here a celebratory pizza. You coming?"

"I, umm....I think I'll pass. I've still got a few gallons of my formula to ditch now that there's no use for it, not to mention a big palette of bricks I have to dispose of. And, well, y'know....I just don't think I'd be very good company right now. You guys will probably have a better time without me."

"I'm sure my dad can just call the same guys who moved the bricks in to move them back out. And you've still got the rest of the weekend to figure out what you're gonna do with the leftover goop. C'mon, I'll get a second 'Cheer up, it's not so bad' pizza for you, huh?"

"Thanks, but....I just kinda need some 'me-time' right now. I'll catch you guys later."

I glance at Gwen, her moment of glory soured a little by the fact that her best friend is skipping out on her.

"But hey, congratulations. Seriously, you had an awesome project, and I'm glad that you placed higher than that rocket-skateboard. And hey, how awesome is it that one of us made it, right?"

"Yeah, it's....amazing," she says, her pride at winning conflicted with her guilt over me leaving empty-handed. "So...I'll talk to you tonight?"

"Sure. I might catch up with everyone at Romita's a little later; right now I just need to blow off some steam. Maybe find a nice quiet room where no one can hear me, then scream obscenities for a minute or two."

Or maybe mask up and relieve some stress by finally rooting up the last of the Big Man's operations and bashing his stupid albino face in.

"Anyway, I'll be cool later on. For now, I just need to...y'know, whatever. But yeah, congratulations again."

Harry shrugs, and he and Eddie head towards the exit with Gwen in tow.

"God, talk about being a sore loser," Eddie remarks just loud enough that I can hear it.

"C'mon, Eddie, you know Pete better than that. Just let him mope it out for a bit and he'll be fine."

Yeah, 'mope it out.' That's exactly what I'm gonna do. If by that you mean patrol the neighborhood looking for criminals to cripple, then sure, I'll be moping it out for the rest of the afternoon.


ONE BUS RIDE BACK TO THE OSBORN PENTHOUSE LATER....

Okay, Harry is out with the gang celebrating, so they're not around. Norman is thankfully still at work. Bernard is in the kitchen preparing dinner for Norman, since he knows Harry and I are presumably stuffing our faces with pizza.

Which means the coast is clear.

I head up to my room, and pull out the backpack with my Spider-Man gear.

Mask? Check.

Goggles? Check.

Hoodie that still smells vaguely of puke even after washing it like five times? Check.

Pneumatic wrist-mounted sprayers?


........hang on a second.....


"...I guess the Big Man can wait for a little while. At least until I figure out how to subdue bad guys without just KO'ing them and ruining any chance of a worthwhile interrogation."

"I was thinking it could be used primarily for emergency services, or maybe a new non-lethal law enforcement weapon."

"A little advice - from one scientist to another - research a better way of applying your adhesive."

"I know my compound is really only half an invention without a better dispenser. "


......


...Peanut Butter, have you met my friend Jelly? Jelly, this is Peanut Butter. I'm sure the two of you will get along just fine....

Eddie Brock
05-19-2010, 11:00 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

COLD SHOULDER: PART 2

I aim my repulsor at Blizzard and charge it up. "Shut it down, Gregor," I command.

He hesitates. I can't see his face because of his mask, but I can imagine the look in his eyes. He's surprised I know his identity, but it only fazes him momentarily. As he clenches his fists, the snow starts to swirl faster. "I'm afraid I can't do that. These bastards have to pay for what they've done to me," he says venomously. "And if you get in my way, I'll kill you, too!"

"Fair enough." I fire my repulsor, knocking Blizzard back. His technology is lightweight; I can only see the faint outline under his costume. However, because it isn't visible, my HUD can't identify it or break it down. So I'm going to have to do this the hard way. I charge another repulsor blast.

Blizzard moves quicker than I can fire. His hands glow white, and my glove is instantly encased in a solid block of ice. As I raise my other arm, Blizzard launches an iceball at me. It crashes against my helmet, knocking my head to the side.

"Sir, this suit was only designed to withstand the minimal ice build-up during low atmosphere flight," Jarvis announces. "I cannot guarantee continued performance under these conditions."

I frown. I was afraid of that. "Temporarily reroute all power to left repulsor." Through the ice, my glove begins to glow brighter. "Fire," I command. The ice blasts apart as my hand is freed. "Any suggestions about how to deal with the cold?"

"None that don't involve you being cooked alive inside the suit, sir."

"Increase power to heating coils, as high as you can go without compromising my safety. I can deal with a little heat." I charge both repulsors and aim them at Blizzard. "Let's see if he can." Blizzard ducks away from my blasts. I charge up again.

"They insulted my project!" Blizzard hits me with another iceball. This one nearly dents my chestplate. "They said it belonged on the pages of a comic book and nothing more! They cut my funding and shut the project down!"

My next repulsor blast catches Blizzard in the shoulder, knocking him down. "So you decided to pursue alternative methods of funding. You sold company secrets and technology to your criminal contacts back in the Czech Republic." The joints of my armor are getting a little stiff. Despite having power coils on high power, a thin layer of ice is building on the suit. "And you stole equipment to make your own suit. You've been busy."

"Sir, the armor's integrity is being compromised by the extreme conditions," Jarvis reports. "Power levels are dropping. The powercore can't keep you alive and operate the suit in these temperatures for long."

Blizzard launches ice projectiles at me. Like big icicles, they fly through the air and actually pierce my outer shell. Four icicles stick out of the suit's right shoulder, barely missing my own. The metal is becoming brittle in this cold. If I'm going to do something, I need to do it fast.

"Jarvis, what's the status report on the unibeam?"

"Power levels too low, sir."

Damn. I need to close the distance between myself and Blizzard. I need to land some good hits on him if I'm going to shut down his equipment. The snow is falling heavier now, and Blizzard in his costume is becoming a blur.

"Jarvis, kill power to ancillary systems."

My HUD shuts off. I need all the power I can squeeze out of this suit. I fire a repulsor blast. Miss. I fire another. Miss. One more. Hit. Blizzard tumbles to the snow-covered ground. I close the gap between us as fast as I can. I bring my fist down, but Blizzard rolls out of the way. He encases my fist in another block of ice.

I don't have time for this.

I rattle off another repulsor blast with my free hand before Blizzard can incapicitate it. It's only a glancing blow, but it buys me valuable milliseconds to react. I slam my ice-covered fist into the side of Blizzard's head - both knocking him to the ground and shattered the ice block. I grab Blizzard by the front of his costume and deliver a final repulsor blast to his chest. Blizzard goes flying across the courtyard and crashes through the entryway to Stark Industries.

Standing over Blizzard with my repulsor charged and aimed, I say cooly, "I won't ask again. Shut it down." Suddenly, the snow stops falling. The clouds open up, and the Malibu sun is visible once more. I grab Blizzard by the wrists and apply enough pressure to crush the devices in his gloves. Knowing that he has been defeated, I drop him. "Jarvis, status report."

"Power levels rising once more, sir."

"Excellent. Let's go home."

And I blast off into the now-sunny sky, leaving Blizzard for the authorities to find.

Mr. Majestic
05-20-2010, 05:46 PM
Rick Jones:
Soldier For H.A.M.M.E.R


“Jones I’m out of ammo.” Rider yells as he hides behind cover as bullets passes him by.

“That’s what happens when your trigger happy.” I reply as I take a clip off my vest and throw it his way.

“I can’t help it I’m just trying to be All I Can Be.” He responds as he reloads his weapon.

Normally we wouldn’t be the ones behind cover but when we busted in the building like Billy bad ass we had no clue that we would have been surrounded forcing us to take cover. We have been pinned down for quite a while and if it continues to be like this we wouldn’t be able to hold them off for much longer. We have to make a move and it quick.

“Rider is you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m thinking when I run out I hope you can take this guys out before they take me out.”

“Don’t be stupid, you know it will be better for me to draw their fire.”

Rider quickly glances from behind his cover, right away I know that he is observing the room to know everyone positions.

“Don’t do it.” I yell to him but I know it’s for nothing as he then gets up to his feet.

“Damn it.” I say as I peak out from cover and begin snipping our adversaries.

Rider jumps up from his and begins heading for the stairs. As he does so I take out anyone who happens to look in his direction. As he gets to the stairs he then starts firing his gun taking people out one by one. I myself also get up now since we have cleared out most of the room and fallow Rider up the stairs.

While upstairs I see that Rider has cleared out most of the room.

“And they say I’m the bad ass.” I say softly to myself.

I continue to walk around looking for my partner. As I make a turn at a hallway I see Rider at the end. I begin walking towards him and as I do so out the corner of my eye I see a nozzle from a rifle sticking out of a doorway aiming at Rider.

“Richard look out!” I scream.

I run towards the gunner and extend my hand to try and grab the nozzle so I might be able to redirect its fire. With the distance I am there is no way I will make it. I know that in any second that gun is going to go off especially since I gave Rider the warning the person behind the gun is not going to waste no time to pull the trigger. Knowing that my friend is about to die I get a funny feeling in my hand and a golden energy surrounds it and then shots from my hand to the gun dissolving it.

Rider turns around and lays the guy out with one shot.

“Thanks for the warning.”

“No…no problem.” I reply while looking down at my hand.

“Jones you okay?”

I heard Rider call my name but at this moment I’m a bit confuse at what just happen.

“Rick are you okay man?”

“Huh? Yea man I’m fine. Let’s just go.”

Moments after that I and Rider made our way back down stairs and walk through the double doors leading outside. As we both walk outside there is a group of people waiting for us.

“Rider, Jones you boys did a great job. You were able to take everyone out in the room without calling for back up thats impressive. You boys keep this up you’ll be on the field in no time.”

“Thanks Sergeant, we do our best.” Rider replies.

The Sergeant then walks away to get everything started again to start the next simulation.

“Hey Jones I’m put away the weapons you want me to take yours?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Alright.”

I can’t get that image out of my mind of me firing that blast of energy. I must have been able to do it with those gauntlets that alien has place on my hands. I got to find out what these things are and what they can do.

bkhedr
05-21-2010, 04:53 AM
I knock the robot flat on his back, and a throbbing foot is what I have to show for it. The machine attempts to get up, I drive another kick into and make it fall back on to the floor.

"What are you here for?" I ask it. I'm convinced it's a machine, but my run in with Iron Man showed that looks can be deceiving.

http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg

"I am here for information Captain America." The Vision says in a voice devoid of emotion as he takes a hold of the Captain's ankle and hurls him across the room. "And you will not stop me from acquiring it."

The Captain is still recovering when the Vision swings a punch at the last remaining HAMMER soldier in the room and knocks him unconscious.

As soon as the Captain's first kick had connected the Synthezoid's brain had immediately categorized him as a potential threat and sought more information on him. His identy was a closely guarded secret indeed, but not so closely guarded that he could not acquire the information remotely from the ship's datafiles.

The information on Ultron was another matter entirely, but now that organized resistance was at least momentarily subdued he was free to take what he had come for.

Striding fluidly across the room the Vision is met by the technician who had until that moment been frantically entering code. The technician has timeto raise his side arm before the synthezoid backhands him, knocking him unconscious and proceeds to place both hands, palm down flat, on the keyboard.

All at once the screens in the room come to life as data flashes across them with blinding speed. So caught up in the data stream is the Vision that he hardly notices as Sharon Carter rises unsteadily behind him and stumbles towards the blast door he had welded shut mere moments ago.

Cursing under her breath the Director of Hammer pulls a small explosive from a pouch in her belt and pastes it to the door.

The explosive is small, its explosive force designed to be equally so, and it goes off with a muffled thump even as the Vision scowls and disconnects from the HAMMER network, drawing his hands back within the folds of his cloak.

"That's right." He here's Sharon Carter say from behind him as the the blast door swings open and a dozen crack troops storm the room with their weapons trained on him "I had the data purged. You won't be getting what you want. Not here or anywhere else."

"Now surrender" she ordered as she raised her own weapon.

"No." is the Vision's only reply and before anyone can fire he disapears, sinking ghostlike into the floor.

"No goddammit!" Carter swears "After him! You too Captain! I do not want that robot to make it off this ship!"

bkhedr
05-21-2010, 05:41 AM
http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg



Several Hours Later

David Brent watches silently from the corner of the room along with with several other journalists as Ambassador Wu quietly address Washington Post reporter Sally Mason while she lies in a hospital bed, the victim of bullet wound to the leg.

It has been like this for the past several hours, visiting one injured survivor after another, offering his condolensces and words of encouragement to those who were injured in the attack on his country's embassy.

Like all the other reporters on the scene who made it through unscathed, David has been following the Ambassador and the story.

As he watches the Ambassador he becomes more and more certain that the oddities he noticed, or at least thought he noticed, during the attack must have been figments of his imagination brought on by shock. David had seen more than his fair share of danger in his time, and he wasn't prone to shock, but how else could he explain bullets seemingly bouncing off an invisible barrier before hitting the Ambassador.

He decided that he had just let his own biases get the better of him, surely he had been mistaken. He had inititally felt somewhat embarrassed at having come to such a ridiculous conclusion, but that feeling was soon replaced with concern for his fellow journalists, and the other people at the party, American and Madripooran alike. Concern, and anger at whoever did this to them.

The buzzing of David's cell phone demanded his attention and he left the room as Wu moved on to yet another victim of the day's attack.

"Yeah?" David said as he flipped the phone open.

"Yeah Perry there's still nothing new. Wu's still visiting the wounded." he said into the phone to his Editor, Perry Black.

"No. Nobody here knows anything."

"Yeah, I'll let you know if - hold on..." Brent said as he moved to avoid another reporter who emerged from the room and pushed past him.

"If something comes up I'll - hey, hey watch it!" Brent added as several more reporters pushed past him. His initial frustration with them quickly faded as he realized that their activity could only mean that something new had come up.

Looking up he found that the reporters were congregating around a television set at a receptionist's desk and that one man he did not recognize was frantically working the volume switch on the television's remote.

"I'll have to call you back Perry." David said as he flipped the phone shut and raced towards the TV. He didn't even realize that Perry's last words to him were to get in front of a television right now.

Pushing his way through the small crowd, David emerged in front of the TV just as the volume was turned up.

"-is country will only remain strong if we remain strong for her." a man in army fatigues and a black baclava was saying to the screen. "Strength of will, strength of conviction, and strength of industry."

"America's will and conviction are indefatigable, unerring. She will not be deterred just as we, her defenders, will not be deterred, These qualities are inside of her, inside all of us, and they can not be attacked. Her strenght of industry is another matter. For too long have we remained silent while America's was unmatched industrial and technological might were drained by incompetence, by greed, by foreign devils. It was bad enough when America imported inferior foreign products and technologies, but now they tell us we have fallen behind. Now they tell us that we have to strike humiliating deals of partnership with those who are beneath us just so that we may share their technologies. As if we can not do anything they can better!!"

"No more!"

"Today's attack on the Embassy of Madripoor was only the beginning. We reject these foreign devils, reject their open hand of friendship and their engines and their microchips. Today the Sons of Sam have dealt the first blow to the foreign devil and to those who would offer him aid and comfort. Today is the first day of a new war for America's soul!!!!"

With that the video ends and the screen cuts back to CNN anchor Wolf Blitzer in the situation room.

"A very disturbing video indeed." Blitzer says to the audience "Once again for those of you just joining us CNN has now learned that today's terrorist attack against the Embassy of Madripoor in New York City, an attack that left 53 dead, many of them Americans, and dozens of other wounded, was carried out by a group calling themselves the Sons of Sam."

"The video you have just seen was delivered to CNN by the terrorist group as a means of claiming responsibility for the attack. Now the Sons claim to be faction of HAMMER that split off to 'fight for America's soul' as the video puts it. HAMMER Director Sharon Carter remains unavailable for comment at this time though we do have reports that HAMMER's Hellicarrier HQ is over New York at this time. We will continue to cover this story and provide you with updates as they become available."

"Now with more insight as to the stated motivations of the terrorists here's CNN correspondant..."

Blitzer's voice faded from David Brent's ears as he turned and made his way through the crowd and away from the commotion that had erupted around the television even as his phone buzzed for his attention once more.


"Yeah Perry. I'll get the Ambassador's statement."



http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg



"..is the third such attack against US Millitary interests that the so called Sons of Sam have claimed responsibility for. It has now become increasingly clear that the organization, now identified as a splinter of HAMMER, is targeting US as well Madripooran interests in its attempt to drive a wedge between this nation and its newest trading partner and ally.

Madripoorian Ambassador Wu today commented on the attacks against US Millitary weapons manufacturers and installations and reiterated his country's promise to stand by the United States as it has stood by Madripoor and confirmed his country's pledge to up production as needed so as to maintain a steady flow of weapons and ammunition to US fighting men and women across the globe. It remains to be seen how the Sons of Sam will react as this constitutes an increasing reliance on Madripooran weapons manufacterers brought on by the terrorist groups' own efforts.

The President today applauded Madripoor for its support and added, echoing his statements of last week, that there would be no negotion with the Sons of Sam or with any other terroris-*KLICK* -nother great game for Kobe Bryant who scored 32 of his 40 points in the second half as the Lakers..."

"YAAAWWWNN!!" Security Officer Mike Dietrick stretched in his seat then clicked off the TV and got up to limber up his limbs. Night shifts. God he hated night shifts.

Especially when his job seemed so superfluous. Ever since the Sons of Sam started attacking Weapons Manufacters, factories like the Abrams Tank Assembly plant he worked at had been under guard by the MPs, the National Guard, the FBI, and everyone else in between. It made an ex-cop turned security guard sitting in his guard booth somewhere in between the factory and 50 armed millitary personall feel kind of silly. Like they were guarding him or something.

Still he wasn't going to complain. As much as he hated the night shift he appreciated the fact that they were still paying him. Mike had to admit that if he was in charge he probably would have given the security guard an unpaid holiday the second the MPs showed up; but he was still here, and he had to stay for - he checked his watch, 4 am - another four hours so he might as well do his job.

Leaving the confines of his security booth, Mike took a satisfying breath of the cool night air then glanced down the road, beyond the chain link fence that marked the factory's borders to the hum vees beyond. Their spotlights were still shining, but Mike didn't hear any chatter, didn't smell the soldiers' cigarettes, didn't see anybody moving.

Fear tugged at the corners of his consciousness, threatening to engulf his senses as all manner of possibilities raced through his mind, then, as he thought for sure that he would panic, a single silhoutte appeared ouf of the darkness, back lit by the spotlights of the Humvees.

Oh thank god! Mike thought to himself, releived, as he raised his hand and aknowledged the soldier who waved back silently.

Their probably buttoned up in their humvees flipping through magazines or listening to a game on their radios Mike reasoned as the soldier continued to approach. Any minute now this guy's gonna ask me where the Head is. If I'm really lucky he'll ask me if I want to join them.

"Hey there Pal what can I do f-orkhghlk." Mike Dietrick reached for his throat then collapsed face first into the dusty earth, dead.

"You can do nothing for me dung dog." The soldier said to the dead man as he strode past him and towards the factory. He then began to fade from view, becoming invisible so as to avoid detection by any surveillance cameras.

Ten minutes later the factory erupted in a ball of fire. Its contents and protectors yet more victims of the Sons of Sam.

Byrd Man
05-22-2010, 05:16 PM
"I am here for information Captain America." The Vision says in a voice devoid of emotion as he takes a hold of the Captain's ankle and hurls him across the room. "And you will not stop me from acquiring it."

The Captain is still recovering when the Vision swings a punch at the last remaining HAMMER soldier in the room and knocks him unconscious.

As soon as the Captain's first kick had connected the Synthezoid's brain had immediately categorized him as a potential threat and sought more information on him. His identy was a closely guarded secret indeed, but not so closely guarded that he could not acquire the information remotely from the ship's datafiles.

The information on Ultron was another matter entirely, but now that organized resistance was at least momentarily subdued he was free to take what he had come for.

Striding fluidly across the room the Vision is met by the technician who had until that moment been frantically entering code. The technician has timeto raise his side arm before the synthezoid backhands him, knocking him unconscious and proceeds to place both hands, palm down flat, on the keyboard.

All at once the screens in the room come to life as data flashes across them with blinding speed. So caught up in the data stream is the Vision that he hardly notices as Sharon Carter rises unsteadily behind him and stumbles towards the blast door he had welded shut mere moments ago.

Cursing under her breath the Director of Hammer pulls a small explosive from a pouch in her belt and pastes it to the door.

The explosive is small, its explosive force designed to be equally so, and it goes off with a muffled thump even as the Vision scowls and disconnects from the HAMMER network, drawing his hands back within the folds of his cloak.

"That's right." He here's Sharon Carter say from behind him as the the blast door swings open and a dozen crack troops storm the room with their weapons trained on him "I had the data purged. You won't be getting what you want. Not here or anywhere else."

"Now surrender" she ordered as she raised her own weapon.

"No." is the Vision's only reply and before anyone can fire he disapears, sinking ghostlike into the floor.


"No goddammit!" Carter swears "After him! You too Captain! I do not want that robot to make it off this ship!"


"Yes, ma'm."

I run down the hallways of the helicarrier, listening to the reports in my ear. The robot was spotted two levels down.

"I got eyes on him! J tier, floor seventeen" Agent Walker reports. That's just one floor below me, less than a hundred yards away.

"He's coming back up!"

I pass by another HAMMER agent, plucking the automatic weapon from his hands.

"I'll bring it back when I'm done!"

I push it as fast as I can and come to a skidding stop just as the robot phases up from the floor below.

"Don't move!" I scream, placing the barrel of the gun to its neck.

"I don't know what the hell you are, I don't really care. But you've already gotten on Carter's bad side, which I like. I know I can't stop you from doing that ghost trick, and you know I can't stop you. Carter slammed the door in your face, but I might be able to help. Tell me what information you're seeking."

Eddie Brock
05-23-2010, 01:41 AM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg


I watch the small, three-dimensional simulation of the D.E.M. The project is nearing the final stages, but more fine-tuning is needed. "Calibration appears slightly off. Double-check the decimal points," I remark aloud so Jarvis will take note. I tap the holographic interface, causing the simulation to zoom in. "I'm concerned about the output levels. They seem abnormally high - more so than usual." I'm nitpicking, but a project of this magnitude requires attention to detail.

I only wish Pepper was around to offer her opinion. She took a personal day, which she's earned, I admit. Also, Happy had to attend his nephew's bar mitzvah, so he isn't around today. Yes, the penthouse has been lonely this afternoon. Just Jarvis and I.

"Sir, incoming call from Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes."

"Patch him through." I haven't talked to him in some time. "Rhodey, how are you, buddy?"

"Tony, we have to talk about this Iron Man situation," Rhodey says in his no-nonsense tone, his voice coming from Jarvis's speakers.

"What situation? There's no situation. It's being handled," I assure him. I tap the holographic interface once more, and the D.E.M. simulation closes. "You have nothing to worry about."

"You can't run around in civilian equipment pretending to be the Lone Ranger. I've got four-star generals breathing down my neck about this. I don't know how much longer I can cover for you."

I smirk. "I think you're just worried that if I'm the Lone Ranger, that makes you Tonto."

"This is not the time for jokes, Tony," Rhodey replies exasperatedly. I hear the sounds of a car engine in the background. He must've called me from his car phone. "You know your track record, so you'll forgive me if I'm a little worried about this 'mission' of yours. You need to promise me that you know what you're doing."

"You have my word, Rhodey. I've made a considerable dent in the proliferation of Stark weaponry already. I just need to figure out what I'm going to do about this new line of Iron Men." I'm running out of time before the Expo. The engineers at Stark Industries are hard at work, and I'm starting to get the feeling that Obidiah isn't being totally upfront with me. "Listen, buddy, I've gotta go. I have a lunch date."

***


http://i543.photobucket.com/albums/gg471/ariefwiryanto1/aston%20martin/112_0903_02laston_martin_one-77fron.jpg


The Aston Martin One-77 - so named because only 77 were produced in the world. I own four of them. As I take another tight turn around the Malibu cliff sides, I remember how much I enjoy driving. I've been spoiled lately - what, with Happy driving me everywhere - but there's nothing quite like the feeling of gripping the steering wheel of a fast, expensive car as you drive to pick up a supermodel for lunch.

***


Millie and I sit cross-legged in the whitewashed living room, sunlight pouring through the floor-length windows of the western wall. I smile at her, and she looks away with a smirk. In this light, she looks even more beautiful than I remember when I met her. Her golden hair shines in the sunlight.

My thoughts are interrupted when a white towel is held before my face. Looking up at the Asian servant, I smile and take the warm towel. I wipe my hands clean and watch as Millie does the same. The servant takes the towels from us when we're done and walks away silently.

"This place is surreal," Millie remarks as she stares out through the giant windows. The view is dominated by the Pacific Ocean, stretching all the way to the horizon. "How did you find out about it?"

"I bought it, actually," I answer.

Millie turns to me with a doubting look in her eye. "You bought it?"

I nod. "I found out about the property through a mutual acquaintance with the designer. I made an offer, and the designer accepted. My penthouse is getting a bit cramped, and I wanted a more personable space to live in." With everything that's been going on, I haven't had time to consider moving everything from the penthouse to this new property. Besides, I wasn't sure I was going to do it, anyway. After seeing the house like this, though, I don't think I can resist.

The servant comes back and places two bowls of steamed rice at our feet.

"I don't think you'll be disappointed. The chef works at a five-star restaurant in Hong Kong. I hired him for this occasion," I explain. I lift my small glass of sake. "To new acquaintances."

Smiling, Millie raises her glass as well. "Absolutely."

Andy C.
05-23-2010, 03:16 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

Okay, so I've got a little work station set up in one of the lower levels of the parking garage, one that Harry and Norman pretty much never use. I thought about trying this out up on the rooftop, but the presence of that huge HAMMER air-ship above the city changed my mind--not to mention that weird something-is-like-a-couple-of-feet-away-from-you-and-you-should-run-very-fast-away-from-it feeling I got again while up there. If it wasn't such a ridiculous notion, I would swear someone was actually watching me, using some kind of invisibility cloak or something....

...but c'mon, that kind of stuff is decades away, right? And besides, if there were invisible people running around, why would they choose to stalk a sixteen-year-old geek? The only people who have samples of my blood from after the spider-bite were Dr. Connors and Dr. Warren, and if OsCorp really wanted me put away, they would have done it by now, right?


......right?




......Anyway, back to my little experiment. I'm surrounded on all sides by various targets in various distances, some big and way up close, some teeny-tiny and far away, and some of a medium size and at a medium distance, of course. Strapped to my wrists are the pneumatic sprayers that Gwen made for me, one of dozens of little gizmos and gadgets she's cobbled together in her garage--and were meant to be a gift for me when I inadvertently stood her up the night of our private study session....which was like a day before she just randomly went out with Eddie Brock...whom she knows I can't stand....okay, Parker, let's try and get the train of thought back on its tracks.

I've been putting the sprayers to pretty good use as Spider-Man, filling them with Mace so far as a close-combat weapon for when I don't feel like straight-up shattering people's faces. Now, though, I've loaded them up with something different--my experimental super-adhesive formula from the Science Fair. Dr. Octavius did say that with the proper applicator, my synthetic spider-webs could really turn some heads. Now let's see if he's right.

I start off easy, with a stack of cardboard boxes about ten feet away from me. I line up my wrist-sprayer with the target, then pull by hand back and press down my two middle fingers, activating the dual-action trigger...

*THWIP!*

A solid rope of the web-fluid shoots out and hits the boxes with a satisfying smack. Love that sound, too--nice and onomatopoetic.

"Okay, I've caught me a bad guy," I say to myself, imagining the scenario, "Now what do I do with him?"

I yank the rope back towards me, the sticky web adhesive holding fast to the cardboard as it pulls the stack of boxes down. Releasing the trigger on the wrist-sprayer closes off the nozzle, which severs the line. Good, I was a little worried that I'd end up with the stuff just hanging off of my arms after each use.

Not a bad first target. Let's go for something a little more difficult: those soda cans I put a good thirty feet away from me.

Trying something different, I adjust the nozzle on the sprayer, and when I pull on the triggers, it fires out a solid baseball-sized glob of the stuff, which blasts the soda cans apart when it hits like a major league fastball. Awesome, not only can I use this stuff as a sort of lasso, but I can also use it for long-distance impacts.

I turn around to the row of broomsticks with cardboard frowny-faces taped to them (I may be a lot of things, but an artist I am most definitely not), and adjust the nozzle to a wide spray. This time when I fire, it projects a fine mist, which coagulates in mid-air into a big messy net by the time it hits the targets, blanketing all of my frowny-faced broom-men in adhesive. And now it's also good for crowd control!

"Ha-HA!" I exclaim triumphantly, whipping around and firing a line of web fluid directly into the basketball fifteen feet away....without even aiming. "...huh. Now that's interesting...."

My Spider-Senses had already attuned to complete spatial awareness of my body, which is what allows me to stick my landings in the middle of my crazy acrobatics without spraining my ankle or cracking my neck every time I make a big jump without seeing where I'm going first. Now, it's like after those first few shots, those same extra-sensitive functions have sort of calibrated themselves to my sprayers, like they're extensions of my limbs.

I test it out again, spinning to one side and firing at the first target that just happens to come into my field of vision: a dart-board that I put up on one of the cement columns. I not only hit it, I hit the freaking bullseye, right in the inside red circle which means it's double points.

I whirl around again and pop off a few of those baseball-globs of 'impact webs' at some action figures I'd positioned almost half the length of the parking garage away. Hit, hit, aaaaaand hit.

I fire with both hands at two cardboard boxes on either side of me, snagging them with a line each, then pull my arms across each other, which yanks the boxes together and they slam into each other right in front of me.

"Hot dang, I'm getting pretty good at this!"

As I prepare to continue stroking my ego, my phone buzzes. It's a text message from Harry.

-DUDE, turn on the news. Something bad is going down. We're staying @ Romita's w/ Gwen til we know she's gonna be OK. Get here when you can.-

I'm not entirely sure what could be going on, but unfortunately I didn't bring a TV down here with me. I did, however, bring a radio so I could listen to some music while I sprayed stuff. I flip it on and turn the dial to the local news station.

"--unsure just how bad the situation is, but they have already confirmed several officers are down, possibly killed. For those of you just tuning in, the Brooklyn 67th Police precinct has come under attack by a group of terrorists sporting yellow-and-red bodysuits, and wielding powerful energy weapons. Details are still sketchy on the identity of these attackers, but it is believed this is an act of retaliation for the precinct's recent crackdown on mob activity in--"

I turn off the radio, realizing what's going on.

Shocker.

The Big Man is trying to send a message to the NYPD, a show of force using his new weapons supplier Herman Schultz and a squad of those shock-troopers he was selling. They're trying to terrorize the police by destroying one of their own precinct houses.

"....oh, God. The 67th Precinct..."

That's Captain Stacy's precinct. Gwen's dad is in very serious danger here.

I grab the backpack with my gear inside, barely slowing down as I practically rip it open to pull out my hoodie and mask. By the time I've reached the exit, I'm in full costume, and ready to hoof it to the precinct house.

Look out, Shocker. Spider-Man's coming for a rematch.

And this time, he's got webs.

bkhedr
05-23-2010, 03:53 AM
"Yes, ma'm."

I run down the hallways of the helicarrier, listening to the reports in my ear. The robot was spotted two levels down.

"I got eyes on him! J tier, floor seventeen" Agent Walker reports. That's just one floor below me, less than a hundred yards away.

"He's coming back up!"

I pass by another HAMMER agent, plucking the automatic weapon from his hands.

"I'll bring it back when I'm done!"

I push it as fast as I can and come to a skidding stop just as the robot phases up from the floor below.

"Don't move!" I scream, placing the barrel of the gun to its neck.

"I don't know what the hell you are, I don't really care. But you've already gotten on Carter's bad side, which I like. I know I can't stop you from doing that ghost trick, and you know I can't stop you. Carter slammed the door in your face, but I might be able to help. Tell me what information you're seeking."

http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


"An intriguing offer Captain America." The Vision said in his electronic voice as he scanned the section of corridor they were standing in.

"But we have little time and I will not allow myself to be captured." He added with a wave of his hand that coincided with the shutting of blast doors on either side of the corridor.

"I have sealed this juncture for the time being. We have less than sixty seconds before we are compromised."

"What are you?" Captain America asked intently.

"I am the Vision. An artificial man made of high density plastics." The Vision droned.

"You don't seem like a robot..."

The Vision nodded "I am not. I am a synthezoid, my brain patterns are the result of an amalgam of recordings from my creator, Alex Lipton, and an advanced extraterrestrial artifical intelligence known to your government as Ultron."

"Wait, so you're?"

"Extraterrestrial in origin?" The Vision said, anticipating the question "No. My body was designed by Alex Lipton as part of his attempt to create artificial super soldiers in the wake of the original Captain America's death. My abilities are a product of his genius, my brain patterns are his own. Only the lattice framework of my neural net is of the Ultron Intelligence. My records are incomplete but from what I can gather the project that created me was discontinued prior to my activitation. I have...vague recollections of the early days of my existence then nothing for a period of several decades until a group of youths activated me. It seems that my activitation was an accident, tragically the youths did not survive the detontation of my storage module."

"So what does all this have to do with HAMMER?"

"I have been active for several weeks Captain. During that time I have learned that I am being hunted, that I have enemies, and that they are trying to get to me so that they can reacquire the Ultron Intelligence. One of these enemies, a woman who calls herself the Widow Maker has given me cause to believe that she too is somehow a product of the Ultron software. Moreover, she has given me cause to believe that the Ultron intelligence, if it still exists, harbors malevolent intent towards the people of this planet. Of greater concern to me is -excuse me one moment -" The Synthezoid said as a hatch opened in the ceiling above their heads.

The artificial man closed his eyse for a moment in deep concentration and the hatch slid shut once more.

"Forgive me. We now have less than 25 seconds before this location is compromised. As I was this saying the greater concern to me is the implication by the Widow Maker that she and I are somehow bound to serve Ultron's will and that the Ultron Intelligence will inevitably be activated once more and bring about the end of all sentient organic life on this planet. Though I am not organic, I have found cause to want to see such an act prevented. Unfortunately, my data on the matter is incomplete. Despite what some believe, I know almost nothing about Ultron, its whereabouts, or its intentions but if the Widow Maker is to believed the Ultron AI is unerringly genocidal and she is eager to see it succeed in its quest."

The Vision paused in consideration then added "As I said, she asserts that I too am part of Ultron's plan, but I do not know the purpose of my existence and I am hopeful that she is wrong. Regretably, all my attempts to acquire information about my past and about the Ultron AI have proved futile. I had hoped that HAMMER's mainframe would have the information I seek but Director Carter purged that information to prevent me from acquiring it. I doubt she will allow me access to it and I have no interest in being taken prisoner and studied or dismantled so my goal for the moment is flight."

The Vision says nothing more for a moment then he turns and faces the door behind him.

"We are out of time." he says as the door slides open and armed HAMMER agents rush in.

Byrd Man
05-23-2010, 08:08 AM
"An intriguing offer Captain America." The Vision said in his electronic voice as he scanned the section of corridor they were standing in.

"But we have little time and I will not allow myself to be captured." He added with a wave of his hand that coincided with the shutting of blast doors on either side of the corridor.

"I have sealed this juncture for the time being. We have less than sixty seconds before we are compromised."

"What are you?" Captain America asked intently.

"I am the Vision. An artificial man made of high density plastics." The Vision droned.

"You don't seem like a robot..."

The Vision nodded "I am not. I am a synthezoid, my brain patterns are the result of an amalgam of recordings from my creator, Alex Lipton, and an advanced extraterrestrial artifical intelligence known to your government as Ultron."

"Wait, so you're?"

"Extraterrestrial in origin?" The Vision said, anticipating the question "No. My body was designed by Alex Lipton as part of his attempt to create artificial super soldiers in the wake of the original Captain America's death. My abilities are a product of his genius, my brain patterns are his own. Only the lattice framework of my neural net is of the Ultron Intelligence. My records are incomplete but from what I can gather the project that created me was discontinued prior to my activitation. I have...vague recollections of the early days of my existence then nothing for a period of several decades until a group of youths activated me. It seems that my activitation was an accident, tragically the youths did not survive the detontation of my storage module."

"So what does all this have to do with HAMMER?"

"I have been active for several weeks Captain. During that time I have learned that I am being hunted, that I have enemies, and that they are trying to get to me so that they can reacquire the Ultron Intelligence. One of these enemies, a woman who calls herself the Widow Maker has given me cause to believe that she too is somehow a product of the Ultron software. Moreover, she has given me cause to believe that the Ultron intelligence, if it still exists, harbors malevolent intent towards the people of this planet. Of greater concern to me is -excuse me one moment -" The Synthezoid said as a hatch opened in the ceiling above their heads.

The artificial man closed his eyse for a moment in deep concentration and the hatch slid shut once more.

"Forgive me. We now have less than 25 seconds before this location is compromised. As I was this saying the greater concern to me is the implication by the Widow Maker that she and I are somehow bound to serve Ultron's will and that the Ultron Intelligence will inevitably be activated once more and bring about the end of all sentient organic life on this planet. Though I am not organic, I have found cause to want to see such an act prevented. Unfortunately, my data on the matter is incomplete. Despite what some believe, I know almost nothing about Ultron, its whereabouts, or its intentions but if the Widow Maker is to believed the Ultron AI is unerringly genocidal and she is eager to see it succeed in its quest."

The Vision paused in consideration then added "As I said, she asserts that I too am part of Ultron's plan, but I do not know the purpose of my existence and I am hopeful that she is wrong. Regretably, all my attempts to acquire information about my past and about the Ultron AI have proved futile. I had hoped that HAMMER's mainframe would have the information I seek but Director Carter purged that information to prevent me from acquiring it. I doubt she will allow me access to it and I have no interest in being taken prisoner and studied or dismantled so my goal for the moment is flight."

The Vision says nothing more for a moment then he turns and faces the door behind him.

"We are out of time." he says as the door slides open and armed HAMMER agents rush in.

My heads still spinning from the information when the other agents bust into the door.

"Two days the Fulton Fish Market in the Bronx. I might not be able to bring you all the answers, but I can bring some."

I jab the gun back into the android's neck.

"Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head now!"

sabetoonth
05-24-2010, 03:58 AM
http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2010/129/4/e/new_hulk_banner_by_sabetoonth.jpg
H.A.M.M.E.R. Helicarrier over NYC

Banner woke up from his sedation. He’d been sedated for the last two days, whene ver he would awake they would stick him with a needle again sending him back into what most would assume was a dream world. For Bruce, it was a nightmare dimension.

“GARGH!” the green beast hunted for its small target, smashing obstacles and the walls of the cave. Bruce Banner crepy low to the ground sneaking around it though another tunnel.

Bruce had come to realize that this new world that he experienced when uncounsous was his own mind given metaphycial form, his councousness, gave it a shape and form and color, the message and information within Banner’s mind were given a manifestation in his mind he could explore. It was a landscape og crags and cliffs, caves and crevices, a very treacherous and unstable enviroment.

Now he was hiding and running from some other manifestation of his mind, it seemed abeast of pure rage. For all bruce was this was just that, his rage personified. If this was what his mind turned his rage into, what in god’s name did it do to his other emotions? Other emotional and mental attributes, his cunning, his resentment, his guilt. But now was not the time to wonder, he should keep moving, because he didn’t want to know what would happen would his rage creature found him. He snuck between rocks, he crawled to another tunnel in the cave that might lead him to safety.

“GAH!” Bruce woke up again with a gasp. There wasn’t someone to sedate him this time, he breathed heavy befreo relaxing at his new found “safety”.

“General, Banner is like a living atomic bomb, we cant let him live,we can learnwhat we need about him through an autopsy, give me the go ahead to terminate the Hulk project.” Talbot tried to argue his point toRoss, he wasn’t buying it, the point of studying Banner was to recreate what he could become.

“For the last time Glen..” the general used the Colonel’s first name rarely."…your not going to kill him.” The General continued to sign off some papers in his Helicarrier quarters. “He’s more useful alive imagein if we can get him to work with us, to control that freak and to help recreate it.”

“That is something he wont do,Sir”

“Well, your not him now are you?” Ross looked up from his desk. “Banner is goin to live, I got a call from an old friend who could use that kind of power, we have a test run planned to se if we can’t point and shoot with the Hulk.” Thunderbolt got up and motioned Talbot to leave.

“Besides, Bruce Banner may be one of the worlds most powerful scientist, and its not brain power that gives him that identification.”
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/8460/217889-179445-hulk.gif

Bruce Banner ran over the rough terrain for his life, because for all he knew, he was, the giant repitile continued to chase him down. Relentlessly, the only way Bruce knew to escape it is to wake up, but he could, he was heavily sedated.
“COME BACK HERE BRUCE!” the mosntrous lizard roared. Its claws swiping through the air. “I want out! Let me out!” he reached out for bruce and pulled him into the air. “NOW I HAVE YOU!”
“AHHHHHHHH!” Bruce woke violently from his induced coma like state. His eyes daseda round the room, there was a guard in the room. Breathing burdened Bruce tried to move, his arms stopped inches from where they began. They had tied him down, he noticed an alarm seemed to be going off. He wasn’t stressing, he couldn’t stress. He stressed he turned, and that would make him truly exhausted even with all the sleep he was getting. He looked over to the guard, maybe he could get some kind of coversation going with him and calm down.
“hey you, whats your name?”

Andy C.
05-24-2010, 04:08 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

The run from the Osborn penthouse to the 67th Precinct station is fast, save for a few times where I had to check the GPS on my phone after getting lost. I'm actually getting pretty good at getting around town this way, but I still need something faster. A lot of lives are at stake here.

By the time I arrive, the scene is already a mess. The streets are cordoned off by rows of police cars, some flipped over, some apparently blown to bits. Schultz's shock-troopers have created a perimeter around the station, keeping Captain Stacy and the other police trapped inside, and keeping the reinforcements out. Behind the police barricade, officers fire their pistols at the yellow-and-red suited mercenaries, the bullets ricocheting off of their armor to little effect.

Towards the back is a news van, no doubt with some fearless reporter trying to win a reputation for themselves by breaking the tragic news about Shocker bringing this place down. Sorry, but that just isn't happening tonight.

I leap down towards the street from a nearby office building, catch onto a lamp-post to redirect my momentum, and swing right into the fray, sailing over the line of cops and right into the heart of the line of shock-troopers.

"Hi there, fellas," I say as I land between two of the mercs, "I'm Spider-Man, and I'm here to support my local law enforcement officers. Which, unfortunately, means that I'm going to beat you all to a bloody twicthing pulp if you don't surrender, like, now."

The mercs glance at each other for a second, then level their arms at me, the high-tech gauntlets on their forearms producing a high-pitched whine and a glow of rippling green energy. They let loose with a crossfire of devastating energy beams, which rip up the asphalt where I was just standing.

Too bad for them, I'm already in motion, leaping high over their heads, then firing out sprays of webbing at both of them, encasing the two in a practically-inescapable adhesive cocoon. And thus I have my first successful field test of the web-fluid as a crime-fighting instrument. Nice.

As I hit the ground, the other shock-troopers begin charging towards me, opening fire with their energy blaster things as they advance. Spider-Senses warn me of the incoming fire well in advance, though, and I tumble and cartwheel through their maze of blasts with relative ease. These energy beams they're firing don't seem to be light-based, as they're not moving at lightspeed--in fact, they're not moving that much faster than a regular bullet. Good thing, too, because I can actually dodge them, as opposed to when I fought Electro, when I had to rely on dumb luck and Max Dillon's terrible aim.

I bob and weave my way towards the nearest shock-trooper, and take him off his feet with a huge uppercut.

http://img695.imageshack.us/img695/7720/spidermanshattereddimen.jpg

"Boom! That's one down, and--"

As the merc hits the ground, he almost immediately sits back up and fires another pair of blasts at me, which I only narrowly avoid.

"Okay, one not down."

These must be those Mark II suits Schultz was bragging to the Big Man about. That armor was enough to stop the cops' gunfire, and apparently it's enough to absorb the impact of a super-powered punch. Which means I'm gonna have to get really creative about taking these guys out.

"All right, so old-fashioned punch'n'kick is out of the question. Let's see how you like a little G-force!"

Before the downed merc can stand back up, I web up his legs and pull, spinning around and swinging the creep in a wide arc, spinning him around and around like one of those Olympic hammer throwers before releasing, slamming him into one of his partners. They go tumbling across the pavement, and much to my satisfaction, don't immediately get back up and shoot again. I web them to the ground for good measure before doing a high-arcing back flip to avoid a blast from behind.

Landing directly behind the shooter, I'm finally able to get a good look at the tech these guys are sporting. The armor is made of thick segmented plates, probably some kind of military grade ceramic, and layered in netting that looks an awful lot like circuitry upon close inspection. With my Spider-Senses slowing everything down to a crawl, I'm able to make out a small vibrational shimmer just millimeters off of the armor itself. So that's how this stuff can stop bullets and shrug off superhero punches; the same energy that powers their weapons also generates a low-level force-field. It's pretty crude compared to that Iron Man guy I saw the other day, definitely home-made, but still way more advanced than what the NYPD is equipped to deal with.

And right in between the trooper's shoulder blades I see the suit's Achilles' Heel: the battery cell itself. I latch onto it with my webs, then kick the merc as hard as I can to send him flying forward, pulling the battery cell out as he crumples against a lamp post.

"Bingo," I say to myself. Now I know exactly how to take them out quickly. And considering I have no idea where Schultz is or if Gwen's dad is still okay, 'quickly' is just about the most important adverb I can think of right about now.

There are still about a dozen shock-troopers left, but between my webbing, my Spider-Senses, and my new-found knowledge of their weaknesses, they don't stand a chance. I charge right into their lines, tumbling past one to get behind him, web up the battery pack, yank it right out, then take him down with a spinning kick to the head. I snare another merc and pull him in, then use him as a human shield while a third fires at me. I turn my tangled-up victim so that the energy blast hits his battery, then hurl him into the third, running up and pulling off his own cell before he can get back up.

One by one, or in twos and threes, I take down every last one of the shock-troopers surrounding the police station, leaving one conscious, bound head to toe in web fluid.

"Okay, pal," I say, trying to put as much of a tough-guy edge to my voice as I interrogate him, "before the boys in blue close in and you spend the next fifteen to twenty years being somebody's senorita, I need to know where your boss is, right now."

"Nnnngh....why should I....tell you?" he grunts.

"Because right now your power-armor is pretty effectively un-powered, and my spider-powers are working just fine, and I really feel like punching somone really, really hard. So how about you tell me where Shocker is, so you can keep that pretty face intact for your future boyfriends in prison?"

Before he can answer, there's a loud BOOM from inside the station. The merc just laughs weakly.

"Heh....there's your answer, hero."

I crack the guy's nose with a backhanded punch, then make a dead run for the station. Hang on, Captain Stacy, I'm coming.

And Shocker, you'd better pray he's still okay in there.



MEANWHILE....

The small TV hanging from the corner above their table at Romita's Pizza played out the scene, and all any of them could do was watch helplessly. Eddie Brock put his arm around Gwen Stacy, trying in vain to comfort his girlfriend as she watched in wide-eyed horror. A gang of super-powered thugs was laying siege to the place where her father worked, and while the news couldn't give any exact details, they had already confirmed several officers down.

Harry looked over his shoulder and waved Liz Alan and Mary Jane Watson over to the table, having called them minutes before to come and be there for their friend.

"Is she okay?" Liz asked Harry quietly, gesturing to Gwen.

"Not sure; she hasn't said a word since this whole thing started."

"Hey, where's Peter?" Mary Jane noticed as she looked around the place. "I mean, shouldn't he be here too?"

"Don't know. I texted him about it before I got a hold of you two. Bernard said he's not at home, so I can only assume he's on his way."

For several minutes, they sat in silence as they watched the police reinforcements fire at the armored criminals uselessly, then scatter when one would return fire with a pot-shot that would completely destroy one of their squad cars.

"He's gonna be okay, I know it," Eddie said to Gwen, not entirely believing it himself.

"Your dad's a tough guy," Harry backed Eddie up. "He'll know how to get through this."

"Oh my God," Mary Jane said, having to catch her breath as she saw a figure leap into the fray on the TV screen. "Is that....it is!"

"New developments involving the assault on the 67th Brooklyn police precinct, as it appears the local mutant vigilante Spider-Man has appeared on the scene. It seems--...you're getting this, right?--...it seems he is attempting to confront these attackers head-on!"

The restaurant erupted into cheers as the masked hero took out two of the villains at once with blasts of spider-webs.

"Here we go!" Eddie said, trying to cheer Gwen up. "These guys don't stand a chance against Spider-Man! I told you everything's going to be okay, huh, Gwen? .....Gwen?"

The blonde girl stared intently at the superhero on the screen, as he fought off wave after wave of the armored crooks....

....firing ropes and nets of adhesive fluids....

....out of a pair of sprayer gadgets attached to his wrists....






"....you have GOT to be kidding me...." she whispered to herself, before fainting.

Andy C.
05-24-2010, 04:14 PM
[EDIT: Double-post]

Andy C.
05-24-2010, 04:15 PM
[EDIT: Stupid frakking Hype!]

TrueMastermind
05-24-2010, 08:10 PM
Unable to stay asleep as a result of the annoying noise of the chobber blades rotating rapidly, Logan entertained himself with carving images into the back seat. This is how James Howlett has fun without a beer around.

Then a certain scent tickled Logan's nostrils. Very familiar, and it was coming at him stronger. All of a sudden, his ears perked up and his devilish eyes grew wide. Victor had located him.

And he smelled the others. Elf. Hank. Psylocke and Sage. And the kid of course. They were all hunting him down for the heartless bastard who was soon to make his life a living hell. Colonel Haller. However, it did seemed rather strange that a couple of days ago he was among their ranks, but now he was a runaway fugitive. Funny how life is.

SNIKT!

Funny how life is.

sabetoonth
05-25-2010, 01:54 AM
http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/6672/xwtb.jpg
Victor’s ears perked up at the sound of a helicopter. They had intel that this thurman was a Mercenary, probably member of a team. Teams tend to have air transport . Victor looked out the window and spotted the source of the chopper noise. It was a Bell 230.

“Hank let down the ramp in back!” He ordered, “Ive got’em in sight!” Victor walked to the back of the jet as it opened, the jet slowed so that the vacuum wouldn’t pull everyone and everything out. Hanging onto one of the pistons he leaned over the edge, smelling Logan in the wind, he was aboard that thing alright. “Bring us in closer!” he yelled over the roar of the engines and the air passing them by.

The jet came out of cloak mode and came alongside the chopper. Victor tensed up before leaping. Things seemd to slow down as he passed between the two vehicles, before it all came back at full spead and Victor landed in the open chopperslamming against the closed door on the other side.

“Hey there Runt!” Sabretooth growled.

Mr. Majestic
05-25-2010, 11:43 PM
I guess me and Rider must be making a name for our selves. We really are moving up in the military world have us on special assignments and what have you. I must admit though I’d rather study these gantlets to figure how to use their powers. But I guess till then watching this guy will have to do. I wonder what it is this guy had done to be lock up like this.

“AHHHHHHHH!” Bruce woke violently from his induced coma like state. His eyes daseda round the room, there was a guard in the room. Breathing burdened Bruce tried to move, his arms stopped inches from where they began. They had tied him down, he noticed an alarm seemed to be going off. He wasn’t stressing, he couldn’t stress. He stressed he turned, and that would make him truly exhausted even with all the sleep he was getting. He looked over to the guard, maybe he could get some kind of coversation going with him and calm down.
“hey you, whats your name?”

Looks like he is finally up, guest it’s not such a bad thing. I can’t really say standing here all silent is exciting. My orders were to just stand here and just observe him and alert anyone if anything strange would take place. I’ve never been one to fallow orders.

“Names Jones, Rick Jones and yours?”

sabetoonth
05-26-2010, 12:26 AM
I guess me and Rider must be making a name for our selves. We really are moving up in the military world have us on special assignments and what have you. I must admit though I’d rather study these gantlets to figure how to use their powers. But I guess till then watching this guy will have to do. I wonder what it is this guy had done to be lock up like this.


Looks like he is finally up, guest it’s not such a bad thing. I can’t really say standing here all silent is exciting. My orders were to just stand here and just observe him and alert anyone if anything strange would take place. I’ve never been one to fallow orders.

“Names Jones, Rick Jones and yours?”

“Banner, my name is…Bruce Banner.” Bruce was sweating profusly, with a big gulp he broke eye contact for a moment. “I need, I need to go to the bathroom.” Bruce had an embarrassed look on his face, last time he had to ask to go the bathroom, he was a kid in highschool; but right now, tied down on a bed he kinda had no other option.

J'adore
05-26-2010, 11:33 AM
http://i43.tinypic.com/35lg4d0.png

"Her n-name was Karima Shapand-d-ar. M-moved from India wh-when she got a job w-working for the F-F-BI in America. She was also en-engaged to N-Neal Shaara who w-went missing d-days after moving to A-America."

"I didn't expect less from scum like you. My scanners tell me you're Dutch, your great-great-great grandfather, a founder of South Africa, was killed by Wakanda ruler T'Chaka, whom you now despise. Would you like to know that T'Chaka is still alive?" The Widow Maker smirked.

Ulysses nodded and turned his head to the side. Through his teeth, he spoke "J-just go away a-and don't come back."

"And where is the fun in that? You A.I.M workers don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Mr. Majestic
05-26-2010, 03:37 PM
“Banner, my name is…Bruce Banner.” Bruce was sweating profusly, with a big gulp he broke eye contact for a moment. “I need, I need to go to the bathroom.” Bruce had an embarrassed look on his face, last time he had to ask to go the bathroom, he was a kid in highschool; but right now, tied down on a bed he kinda had no other option.

I let out a slight giggle.

"You can't be serious? Look Bruce was it? I'm probably already going to get in trouble for just chatting with you. Now I'm not the smartest man in the world but if they have you lock up like this there must be a reason why. Besides I'm pretty sure that big brother won't like it to much if i let you out." I tell him as I point to the security cameras behind me.

sabetoonth
05-26-2010, 05:17 PM
I let out a slight giggle.

"You can't be serious? Look Bruce was it? I'm probably already going to get in trouble for just chatting with you. Now I'm not the smartest man in the world but if they have you lock up like this there must be a reason why. Besides I'm pretty sure that big brother won't like it to much if i let you out." I tell him as I point to the security cameras behind me.

“I just need to use the bathroom, that’s all.” Bruce explained gesturing best he could with his restrained wrists. “Why I’m locked up, it’s what happens when I'm stressed or angry.” Bruce continued because he really needed to use the bathroom. “And if it happens, nothing can stop it, it’s the strongest there is.” Bruce continued. Just then General Ross walked in the door, well, it was more like a vault.

“Dr Banner, your awake, do you think the government might incur you to work for us?” Ross greeted the mutated scientist. “We have a special request from a friend of mine, Colonel Haller from the Xavier Institute.” The General started. “One of his boys has gone rogue, he has a team going after him but wanted to know if I would be willing to lend a hand if needed.” Bruce looked at the general with a confused look on his face. “We need that thing to take down the rogue mutant Bruce.” Thunderbolt stepped closer to the bed. “Jones, step outside.”

“General, let me out of this thing, and I’ll use this thing as much as you need.” Bruce clearly told the old general. He wasn’t going to let his curse destroy lives because the military want it too.

Andy C.
05-26-2010, 06:10 PM
Perched on rooftops above the streets of Brooklyn, spotters observed the attack on the 67th Police precinct, waiting for any sign of their person of interest. Equipped with the latest in active camouflage which rendered them all but invisible to the naked eye, as well as stealth suits that muffled sound and drowned out scent, they could slip about the city wherever they needed to be, virtually undetectable to those who weren't specifically looking for them. Though the police were under-equipped to deal with the black market shock-troopers they were fighting, the high-tech soldiers remained at their posts, waiting for their target to arrive, then reporting his arrival to their superiors when he finally made it. They were not there to help or harm the masked vigilante in any way, only observe and report. Spider-Man was still an unknown variable, and a threat assessment was underway.

Thousands of feet up, operatives of HAMMER were engaged in a tense standoff aboard one of their Helicarriers, while Captain America held a gun to an intruder's neck. A line of soldiers circled the red-faced humanoid, rifles at the ready. One of them towards the back opened a secure line through his comm, on a channel none of the operatives knew, and confirmed under his breath to his real superiors that the Vision had been located.

A valet parking attendant in Malibu, California, parked an Aston-Martin One 77 in its place, then spoke into his wireless headset, letting his employers know the location of one Tony Stark.

In an undisclosed location, an old Native American put a knife to an ice cream vendor's throat. Having responded on intel given to him by the Native's "barium meal," the ice cream vendor had been smuggling munitions to fellow HYDRA across the state. The Native told his captive that he only had another thirty seconds to say the name of the mole before he would open the man's throat.

At the bottom of an old, seemingly-abandoned coal mine in West Virginia, a man with one eye went over a file marked 'Sons of Sam' and scowled. They claimed to be hardline militants, a splinter of HAMMER, but he knew better. This was something far greater, something far worse, and something familiar to the old man as he puffed on his cigar.

"Do you know how long it's been since my last field mission?" the old man said to the younger officer attending to him.

"Off the top of my head, no, sir," he responded.

"Heh, me neither," he said with a grim chuckle. "Which means it's been too damn long. I think these Sons of Sam are just the kind of thing I could use to stretch my legs."

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" the younger officer said, before the old man waved him on. "Considering your recent condition, your blackouts, your loss of memory, I'd advise against that."

"Acknowledged, and ignored," the old man scowled. "I'm well aware of how old I am, not to mention how old I should be. But I'm still in good enough shape for field work, and if the Sons of Sam are what I think they are, then I'm the most qualified agent to deal with them. Besides, the fresh air will do me some good."

The officer stammered for a second, then replied "Yes, sir."

"Prepare a mobile HQ for my disposal, and let the Old Soldier know that I'm going to be stepping out for a while," Director Nick Fury said as he put out his cigar.

Eddie Brock
05-26-2010, 11:39 PM
Dr. Otto Octavius

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Yes, come in."

My apartment door swings open, and I hear a small gasp. Turning my head, I see Mary standing there. She's wearing a purple, fitted sweater and light denim jeans. It's one of the few times I've seen her out of her lab coat. She's positively stunning. "Well, I certainly wasn't expecting to see this, Otto."

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/3/37320/804669-101__2_.jpg

"My apologies, Mary. I've been wearing the harness more, for practice," I explain. I understand how I must look, but - to me - the harness has become just an extension of my body. I've grown much more comfortable wearing it. "What brings you to my little corner of New York?"

"I was working down at the lab by myself, and I was about to go out for a late dinner. I knew you lived right around the corner, so I thought I might drop by and invite you to come - if you hadn't eaten."

I try not to turn red. Mary is asking me to dinner. Now, now, I know it's just an informal invitation between friends, but it's certainly still flattering. After all, it means that she was thinking about me. Unfortunately, however...

"What a lovely offer," I reply, "but I'm afraid that you caught me in the process of making dinner for myself, actually." One of my tentacles stirs a pot of boiling water while another dumps a box of pasta into it. All the while, I'm standing completely still.

Mary gives a little smile. "Very impressive, Otto."

I quickly stammer, "You know, there really should be enough for both of us, if you want to save your money." I smirk. "Besides, one can only eat so much takeout and ramen noodles, you know?"

Mary waves me off. "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose. I can see you're busy..." I follow her gaze to my desk, where a third tentacle is actively making notes.

"Please, it's no problem at all," I assure her. "I've just been crunching some numbers, nothing too intensive. Besides, it'll help to have a second set of eyes to look over my calculations after dinner."

"Alright, then. You convinced me," Mary responds with a smile. "Now, how can I help with dinner? I'll set the--" She stops when she sees my fourth tentacle opening a cabinet and pulling out two plates.

I put my hand on Mary's shoulder and say, "You're my guest. I wouldn't dare make you lift a finger to help." Hell, even my days of lifting a finger are gone. I sometimes wonder how I got anything accomplished without my harness. I've become infinitely more efficient since developing it. "Have a seat in the living room. I'll join you in a moment."

Andy C.
05-27-2010, 01:31 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

Running headlong towards the police station, I see rows of blown-out windows up on the third floor, meaning that's where the explosion came from. I leap up, making it about two stories up, then crawl up the remainder of the distance and pull myself inside.

Once I'm in, I see that the room has been blasted apart: desks overturned and broken, rows of filing cabinets knocked over, computer screens busted, but oddly enough no smoke or fire. Schultz's shockwave weapons pack a lot of concussive punch, but don't seem to have much of a pyrotechnic effect. No bodies or wounded, either, which means either everyone's moved to a different floor or Shocker just vaporized everyone. Really hoping for the former rather than the latter.

At the other end of the room, there's a door that looks like it's been kicked down....or blown down, by the looks of it. That's where Shocker went, and I follow after him, crawling along the ceiling in the hopes that I'll get the drop on him.

There are bursts of gunfire, followed by that same high-pitched whine and another BOOM somewhere down the hall. I put on some speed and get to the next room, where Shocker has just blasted apart a makeshift barricade and sent two now-unconscious cops tumbling across the floor.

"I'll ask one more time," Schultz says, both of his wrist-mounted guns charging up for another blast. "Where is Captain Stacy?!"

"Right here," he says, stepping out from the next room with his frighteningly large pistol drawn. "You've got one chance to put down your weapons before I put you down."

"Heh, maybe you haven't been paying attention," the merc says in a mocking tone, "but you don't have the hardware to put me down, pig. But while you're here, the Big Man has a message for you..."

"Hey, that's funny, 'cause I've got a message for the Big Man!"

Leaping down from the ceiling, I get behind Shocker and make a grab for the power cell behind his back....

....and get thrown against the wall when a shimmering green wall of energy repels me. I catch myself and stick to the wall, trying to shake off the dizziness of what just happened.

http://img39.imageshack.us/img39/4921/ultimateshocker.png

"This night keeps getting better and better! I get to humiliate the NYPD, get respect from the Big Man by killing Captain Stacy, and I get to make myself famous as the man who killed Spider-Man!"

"Oooh, that's an awful lot there. You sure you're not just setting yourself up for failure by setting too many goals at once? 'Cause I've heard that the best way to success is to just focus on the ones that really matter and--"

Before I can finish my sentence, I have to leap out of the way to avoid the shockwaves that blast a hole in the wall.

"Hey! Not cool! Did I interrupt you in the middle of your banter, Schultz?"

"The name's Shocker while I'm on the job!" He says, firing another set of blasts that I dodge pretty handily.

"Right, I've been meaning to ask about that. Why 'Shocker,' exactly? I mean, what, was 'Dirty Sanchez' taken?"

Yeah, I know it's juvenile and not particularly creative to take the easy route there, but c'mon, that's one he just lobbed right to me. It's slow-pitch. It's tee-ball. I had to swing at that one.

Speaking of swinging, he swings his guns back at me and opens fire, ripping a wide swath in the ceiling as I leap and tumble over him.

"God, will you SHUT UP?!"

Heh, I seem to be getting under his skin. Which means he's not focusing on Captain Stacy or the other cops anymore. Which means they can get to safety while I deal with this clown.

Kinda like how I kept Electro busy while the homecoming kids evacuated. Wonder if I can put down 'super-annoying' as one of my Amazing Spider-Powers?

"Hey, don't get all mad about it now, Cleveland Steamer. I'm not the one who picked their name off of Urban Dictionary. I mean, in the history books of all the world's worst villains, just imagine how that's going to look. There's Magneto of the Brotherhood, there's Baron Zemo of the Third Reich....and then there's Hot Carl over here."

The other cops take the cue and skeedaddle, but Captain Stacy stays behind, gun loaded and ready, but still not taking the shot for some reason.

Realizing we're causing an awful lot of collateral damage, I finally hit the floor and charge, hoping to make another grab at that battery cell...but once again, I'm knocked for a loop by a wall of energy that smacks me away. Schultz just laughs as I try and pick myself back up.

"Oh, a force-field?! Not like the minor ones your lackeys have, but an actual, honest-to-God force-field?! How is that fair?!"

"Who ever said life was fair, Spider?" he says with an evil grin before hitting me dead-on with an energy beam, and I black out for a second.

When my senses recover, I'm on my back, Shocker standing right over me with his guns charging for a killing blast.

"One more up close ought to do the trick. Now say goodbye, Spider..."

bkhedr
05-27-2010, 03:06 AM
My heads still spinning from the information when the other agents bust into the door.

"Two days the Fulton Fish Market in the Bronx. I might not be able to bring you all the answers, but I can bring some."

I jab the gun back into the android's neck.

"Get down on the ground and put your hands behind your head now!"



http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


The Vision nodded, a faint, almost imperceptible gesture that only Captain America noticed, then became intangible once more.

"Dammit. Hold your fire." Cap swore as the Vision melted through the floor and disappeared from sight.

Moments later and the android was clear of the Hellicarrier and descending through the cloud cover, his android brain already working feverishly as he tried to determine whether or not Captain America could be trusted.

____

Two Days Later:

The Fulton Fish Market is alive with the buzz of Fisherman, merchants, and customers. Amid the bustle and controlled chaos, very few notice the gaunt man who shuffles discreetly through the narrow corridors of the market.

Indeed why would they take notice?

He is certainly well dressed, his sensible attire consists of leather shoes, tailored pants, a white button up shirt with a thin green tie and a leather trench coat of brown leather tanned so that it was almost a shade of yellow. His wavy brown hair is combed so that it is pressed close to his scalp. A streak of gray above each ear marrs the otherwise perfect brown.

All things considered the man is decidedly unmemorable, and perhaps this is how he wishes things to be, for the man has not come here shopping for fish. He makes his way past one stall after another, ignoring their ways as he methodically covers the market in an expanding grid like pattern, searching for his contact and doing all he can to remain unnoticed in the crowd.

bkhedr
05-27-2010, 04:19 AM
http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg




"..is the third such attack against US Millitary interests that the so called Sons of Sam have claimed responsibility for. It has now become increasingly clear that the organization, now identified as a splinter of HAMMER, is targeting US as well Madripooran interests in its attempt to drive a wedge between this nation and its newest trading partner and ally.

Madripoorian Ambassador Wu today commented on the attacks against US Millitary weapons manufacturers and installations and reiterated his country's promise to stand by the United States as it has stood by Madripoor and confirmed his country's pledge to up production as needed so as to maintain a steady flow of weapons and ammunition to US fighting men and women across the globe. It remains to be seen how the Sons of Sam will react as this constitutes an increasing reliance on Madripooran weapons manufacterers brought on by the terrorist groups' own efforts.

The President today applauded Madripoor for its support and added, echoing his statements of last week, that there would be no negotion with the Sons of Sam or with any other terroris-*KLICK* -nother great game for Kobe Bryant who scored 32 of his 40 points in the second half as the Lakers..."

"YAAAWWWNN!!" Security Officer Mike Dietrick stretched in his seat then clicked off the TV and got up to limber up his limbs. Night shifts. God he hated night shifts.

Especially when his job seemed so superfluous. Ever since the Sons of Sam started attacking Weapons Manufacters, factories like the Abrams Tank Assembly plant he worked at had been under guard by the MPs, the National Guard, the FBI, and everyone else in between. It made an ex-cop turned security guard sitting in his guard booth somewhere in between the factory and 50 armed millitary personall feel kind of silly. Like they were guarding him or something.

Still he wasn't going to complain. As much as he hated the night shift he appreciated the fact that they were still paying him. Mike had to admit that if he was in charge he probably would have given the security guard an unpaid holiday the second the MPs showed up; but he was still here, and he had to stay for - he checked his watch, 4 am - another four hours so he might as well do his job.

Leaving the confines of his security booth, Mike took a satisfying breath of the cool night air then glanced down the road, beyond the chain link fence that marked the factory's borders to the hum vees beyond. Their spotlights were still shining, but Mike didn't hear any chatter, didn't smell the soldiers' cigarettes, didn't see anybody moving.

Fear tugged at the corners of his consciousness, threatening to engulf his senses as all manner of possibilities raced through his mind, then, as he thought for sure that he would panic, a single silhoutte appeared ouf of the darkness, back lit by the spotlights of the Humvees.

Oh thank god! Mike thought to himself, releived, as he raised his hand and aknowledged the soldier who waved back silently.

Their probably buttoned up in their humvees flipping through magazines or listening to a game on their radios Mike reasoned as the soldier continued to approach. Any minute now this guy's gonna ask me where the Head is. If I'm really lucky he'll ask me if I want to join them.

"Hey there Pal what can I do f-orkhghlk." Mike Dietrick reached for his throat then collapsed face first into the dusty earth, dead.

"You can do nothing for me dung dog." The soldier said to the dead man as he strode past him and towards the factory. He then began to fade from view, becoming invisible so as to avoid detection by any surveillance cameras.

Ten minutes later the factory erupted in a ball of fire. Its contents and protectors yet more victims of the Sons of Sam.


http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg


The Embassy of Madripoor:

Painters stand on ladders in the hallways of the fabulously modern building as they work to remove the few remaining reminders of the Sons of Sams' terrorist attack on the embassy.

In his office deep within the recesses of the structure, away from any disturbances, Ambassador Wu goes over the latest reports from his spies and grins with satisfaction.

The plan was working to perfection. Between his own diplomatic efforts and the horrifying brutality of frightening effectiveness of the Sons of Sam, public opinion in the United States had now swung clearly in favor of Madripoor and of the Premier. Better still, the American media, always eager to side with the winners and add their voice to the majority rather than being alone in dissent, had one by one, also swung in favor of Madripoor.

Politicians, intellectuals, businessmen, the millitary, all of them were feeling the need to condemn the Sons. This stance inherently made them friends of Madripoor and slowly but surely the plan was taking effect.

Soon the United States, the most powerful nation on planet Earth, would be so hopelessly compromised socially, politically, economically and military that it would be powerless to stand against him when he made his move.

Soon. Very soon.

But not yet. The plan, such as it was, called for the subduing of an entire nation and from there an entire planet. It required subtlety and patience, and there was still cause for concern, still steps that needed to be taken.

Putting his papers down, Ambassador Wu hit the buzzer on his desk and spoke into an intercom.

"Ms Wynn, please send Mr. Whiteman in." The Ambassador said before easing back into his chair and interlocking his fingers infront of him while his elbows rested on the chair's arm rests.

"Mr. Ambassador." John Whiteman of the State Department's Madripoor Desk said as he stepped into the office and shut the heavy wooden door behind him. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"My pleasure John." The Ambassador said as he gestured for Wu to sit down "Now tell me, how are things at the State Department."

"Good Sir. Very good. Opposition to cooperation with Madripoor has virtually disappeared and the latest reports indicate that the Millitary is thrilled with your country's tech. So much so that the Secretary of Defense intends to give a speech at the Pentagon next week announcing our solidarity with Madripoor and declaring our intention of developing a long term millitary alliance with your nation."

"Is he now?" Wu raised an eye brow, intrigued.

Whiteman was one of the first state side American officials that Wu had successfully subverted with his hypnotic stare. His influence over the man was so strong that he was now providing Wu with choice information even without being prompted.

"Do you have information on the details of the speech? When it will be held? Where exactly in the Pentagon building?" Wu asked intently

Whiteman simply nodded, as if oblivious to the fact that he was revealing secure information. "I do Sir."

"Excellent." Wu said as he leaned back in his chair once more and his mind went to work.

Soon the Secretary of Defense would be dead. Murdered in the heart of the Pentagon by the Sons of Sam for doing what was right for America just because it also happened to be right for Madripoor. The nation would scream bloody murder and those members of Congress and of the Senate whom Wu had subverted would face only enthusiastic support when they moved to increase cooperation with Madripoor. The Premier will offer to send Madripoorian Counter Terrorist Advisors to aid in the operations against the Sons of Sam and the US will be grateful for the opportunity. And as his power grows, while his influence becomes all the more deeply rooted no one will even notice that the new Secretary of Defense is his choice, his man.

Soon he thought again Very very soon.

Byrd Man
05-27-2010, 08:15 AM
Two Days Later:

The Fulton Fish Market is alive with the buzz of Fisherman, merchants, and customers. Amid the bustle and controlled chaos, very few notice the gaunt man who shuffles discreetly through the narrow corridors of the market.

Indeed why would they take notice?

He is certainly well dressed, his sensible attire consists of leather shoes, tailored pants, a white button up shirt with a thin green tie and a leather trench coat of brown leather tanned so that it was almost a shade of yellow. His wavy brown hair is combed so that it is pressed close to his scalp. A streak of gray above each ear marrs the otherwise perfect brown.

All things considered the man is decidedly unmemorable, and perhaps this is how he wishes things to be, for the man has not come here shopping for fish. He makes his way past one stall after another, ignoring their ways as he methodically covers the market in an expanding grid like pattern, searching for his contact and doing all he can to remain unnoticed in the crowd.


I walk through the crowd of the fishmarket, a coat pulled around me and the jump drive filled with information in my pocket. It's not that much. My security clearance is high, but not on the same level as Director 13.

I'm running a bit late since he took me a little longer to shake the agent assigned to tail me today. They're getting better agents to shadow me. I'm not sure what it says about HAMMER that they can't even trust Captain America.

Pushing through the crowd, I sit down on a bench and wait. He'll be here soon enough.

Mr. Majestic
05-27-2010, 06:41 PM
Victor’s ears perked up at the sound of a helicopter. They had intel that this thurman was a Mercenary, probably member of a team. Teams tend to have air transport . Victor looked out the window and spotted the source of the chopper noise. It was a Bell 230.

“Hank let down the ramp in back!” He ordered, “Ive got’em in sight!”

Victor didn’t have to tell me that he had him in sight, just like him I could smell him. Now that I have his powers and Feral’s my sense of smell and a lot better. I’m sure Wolverine knows we are here. I still can’t believe this is happening right now. Are we really about to fight him? It’s not like he has done anything wrong he only left. Would the something happen if we all decided to make the same decision?


Victor walked to the back of the jet as it opened, the jet slowed so that the vacuum wouldn’t pull everyone and everything out. Hanging onto one of the pistons he leaned over the edge, smelling Logan in the wind, he was aboard that thing alright. “Bring us in closer!” he yelled over the roar of the engines and the air passing them by.

The jet came out of cloak mode and came alongside the chopper. Victor tensed up before leaping. Things seemd to slow down as he passed between the two vehicles, before it all came back at full spead and Victor landed in the open chopperslamming against the closed door on the other side.

“Hey there Runt!” Sabretooth growled.

I run to the edge of the ramp and keep my eyes on Sabretooth.

“Beast I’m need for you to keep us close.”

If Sabretooth happens to fall I’ll fly down and catch him. Wow didn’t think I would think that. Guess there’s no helping it he is the leader now. Only thing I can do is wait and watch to see what happens.

TrueMastermind
05-27-2010, 11:28 PM
http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/6672/xwtb.jpg

Victor’s ears perked up at the sound of a helicopter. They had intel that this thurman was a Mercenary, probably member of a team. Teams tend to have air transport . Victor looked out the window and spotted the source of the chopper noise. It was a Bell 230.

“Hank let down the ramp in back!” He ordered, “Ive got’em in sight!” Victor walked to the back of the jet as it opened, the jet slowed so that the vacuum wouldn’t pull everyone and everything out. Hanging onto one of the pistons he leaned over the edge, smelling Logan in the wind, he was aboard that thing alright. “Bring us in closer!” he yelled over the roar of the engines and the air passing them by.

The jet came out of cloak mode and came alongside the chopper. Victor tensed up before leaping. Things seemd to slow down as he passed between the two vehicles, before it all came back at full spead and Victor landed in the open chopperslamming against the closed door on the other side.

“Hey there Runt!” Sabretooth growled.

The sudden collision momentarily stunning him, Logan was somewhat suprised to see Victor standing in front of him.

"Logan! What the **** is going on back there!" Banshee took a brief pause from driving the copter to take a glance at what was happening behind him. With Daken mimicking his movements, the two's eyes grew wide at the new arrival.


"If killing you means getting Haller's eyes of my damn back, then so be it. Prepare to meet your end, Victor."

Quickly snapping out of his daze, Logan uttered a low, threatening growl before slashing at the vicious brute.

sabetoonth
05-27-2010, 11:58 PM
The sudden collision momentarily stunning him, Logan was somewhat suprised to see Victor standing in front of him.

"Logan! What the **** is going on back there!" Banshee took a brief pause from driving the copter to take a glance at what was happening behind him. With Daken mimicking his movements, the two's eyes grew wide at the new arrival.


"If killing you means getting Haller's eyes of my damn back, then so be it. Prepare to meet your end, Victor."

Quickly snapping out of his daze, Logan uttered a low, threatening growl before slashing at the vicious brute.

“Lets play shorty!” Victor launched himself through the choppers cabin space spearing his shoulder into Logan’s mid section and taking a slash to the face. They tumbled out of the side, and into in the empty air. Victor took an elbow to the back just below the shoulder blade. He bit through Logan’s top his felid canine teeth sinking into flesh and ripping it away. With a splash they landed in the waters of the Hudson. Taking a moment to recover Victor swam at Logan like a shark reaching his calws appendages out to continue the assault.

TrueMastermind
05-28-2010, 09:28 PM
“Lets play shorty!” Victor launched himself through the choppers cabin space spearing his shoulder into Logan’s mid section and taking a slash to the face. They tumbled out of the side, and into in the empty air. Victor took an elbow to the back just below the shoulder blade. He bit through Logan’s top his felid canine teeth sinking into flesh and ripping it away. With a splash they landed in the waters of the Hudson. Taking a moment to recover Victor swam at Logan like a shark reaching his calws appendages out to continue the assault.

Now again dazed from the collossal fall, Logan couldn't help but sucumb to Victor's oncoming assault, and like a helpless prey, he was dragged under the water. But Logan wasn't willing to be defeated like this. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Feeling his strength rushing back into his bulging muscles, Wolverine slammed Victor as hard as he could manage underwater with his foot. But with no oxygen present in the river, Logan was forced to bolster himself towards shore, unable to see Victor's reaction to his counter.

sabetoonth
05-28-2010, 10:30 PM
Now again dazed from the collossal fall, Logan couldn't help but sucumb to Victor's oncoming assault, and like a helpless prey, he was dragged under the water. But Logan wasn't willing to be defeated like this. He wouldn't. He couldn't. Feeling his strength rushing back into his bulging muscles, Wolverine slammed Victor as hard as he could manage underwater with his foot. But with no oxygen present in the river, Logan was forced to bolster himself towards shore, unable to see Victor's reaction to his counter.

Victor took Logan’s leg into the left of his chest, loosing the air in his lungs. Rushing to the surface Victor refilled his respiratory system with air. Wolverine was heading for shore, Creed glared as he swam; for a man named after a cat, uncharacteristically. Catching up to Logan rather fast he grabbed hold of his foot and pulled Wolverine back into him. The rogue X-Man kicked victor in the face and broke his nose, it healed back. Sabretooth reached his claws into Wolverine’s chest raking him closer. Logan fought him tooth and nail. Victor decked him in the face, and Logan extended his claws into the larger mutants chest. Victor cired out in pain and then jumped out of the water using both hands to push the runt under.

Andy C.
05-31-2010, 03:20 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

So here I am, in a pretty amazing amount of pain once again, lying on my back, super-villain with a gun pointed right at my face, about to blast me into kingdom come. Needless to say, I've had better days.

I look up at Shocker, who's got this pretty frightening maniacal grin etched onto his face. Just need another second or two to get my wind back, before--

BLAM!

There's a flash of green energy, but thankfully, it's not him firing his shockwave guns point-blank into my face. In fact, it's his force-field, deflecting a high-caliber bullet from Captain Stacy's pistol.

"Stop this right now, Schultz, and nobody else gets hurt today," he says, gun leveled at the psychotic arms-dealer like he doesn't know it won't affect him. That, or doesn't care.

"Wait your turn, Captain, I've got a bug to squash first!"

By the time he turns his attention back to me, I've already scuttled out from under him, and have scurried up the wall and onto the ceiling.

"Ummm, technically that's incorrect. Y'see, spiders are arachnids, whereas 'bugs' are typically larger forms of insects, things like beetles and stinkbugs and--"

"Oh whatever! I'm still gonna squash you!" he shouts his disappointingly unimaginative threat at me, charging his guns up again to fire.

"I said STOP!" Captain Stacy shouts before popping off three more rounds at Shocker, the bullets impacting onto his force-field.

I spring out of the way to avoid the oncoming energy blasts...but said energy blasts don't come. I look back at Schultz while in mid-tumble and notice that his blasters seem to have lost their charge.

"Awww, what's the matter, Alabama Hot Pocket? Your black-market super-weapons are faulty? What a surprise! What an unexpected twist!" I say, slinging nets of web at Schultz as I bob and weave to make myself a hard target. "I'll bet you're wanting me to say 'what a shocker' right now, but I think that's beneath me at this point."

Unfortunately, it looks like his force-field is still working just fine, as my webbing dissolves the instant it hits.

"Equipment's working just fine, arachnid," he says, making a point to get the nomenclature right. "Which I'll be more than happy to demonstrate!"

He lets loose with a pair of blasts from both guns, and at the very same instant, I return fire with a glob of webbing. One of the blasts hits me, which sends me crashing through the window and flying out into the street.

On the up-side, I'm still conscious this time, which either means I didn't get the brunt of the blast or that I'm getting tougher than I think. On the down-side, I am now three stories up and free-falling at an angle that is probably going to turn me into something resembling chunky salsa when I hit the sidewalk. I can't reach a wall to stick to, I can't jump off of anything....

...but I do have a way to catch myself, now that I think about it.

I fire out two lines of webbing back into the police station, sticking into the ceiling as I begin to fall. They go taut, and I begin to swing forward back towards the building.

Once I hit the wall, I use the webbing's elasticity to help pull me back up into the third floor, where Shocker is still firing wildly, blasting holes in the ceiling and walls.

Wait, he's not firing wildly....he's firing blind.

That last glob of webbing I shot at him actually managed to get through his force-field. But how?

"...I've got it!"

As Schultz blasts at random targets with one hand, and trying to pry the webbing off his face with the other (succeeding only in sticking said hand to his face), I crawl past him, and back to Captain Stacy, who's taken up a position behind a heavy oak desk.

"I think I know how to beat Cincinnati Bow Tie here," I say as I hop down from the ceiling and land next to him.

"What the hell's a Cincinnati Bow Tie?"

"It's....ummm, well, something gross. Y'know, he calls himself 'Shocker,' and that means when you take your hand and....never mind. Anyway, I think I've figured out how to get past that force-field. But it's going to hurt. Me. A lot."

There's another deafening BOOOM as Shocker takes out a huge section of the ceiling, and it comes crashing down behind us.

"...I'm listening."

"Okay, so when you shot at him earlier, it didn't get through the force-field, but then he wasn't able to shoot his energy guns at me, right? Then, while he was shooting his guns at me, I was able to hit him with a shot that got past, right? So that means the force-field and the energy guns are on the same power cell, and there's not enough juice to power them both at once!"

"So while he's shooting, his shield is down?"

"Exactly! So the trick his getting him to shoot at something long enough to get his shield down, leaving him vulnerable! And that's where I come in."

"What're you saying, Spider-Man?"

"Like I said, this is going to hurt me. A lot."

With that, I hop over the desk and head towards the blinded and frustrated Shocker, who's still swearing and shouting.

"Come on out, Spider! WHERE ARE YOU?!?!"

"Right here," I say, intentionally getting right in his face.

I take a deep breath as Shocker levels his gun right at me....and I hope Captain Stacy's a good shot.

*BOOOOOOM--*

















"....-ou okay, son? Spider-Man, can you hear me? Spider-Man"

".....yeah. I'm...*coughcough*...I'm okay. Did we win?"

"RRRGGHHHH! I'M GONNA---*hrk!*--KILL YOU, STACYAAAAAAAAAUUUUGHHH! AAAAaaaaaaaaaa..."

My head finally stops swimming, and I see Herman Schultz lying on the floor, face-down, screaming in a puddle of his own blood. One hand is clutching his abdomen, while the other is still webbed to his face.

"Your idea worked, Spider-Man. Shocker isn't going to be hurting anyone else tonight. I...guess I owe you one."

"Don't...don't mention it," I say as I get to my feet, still wobbly from taking a point-blank blast like that. Schultz lets out another blood-curdling scream, and I wince for him. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Eventually," Captain Stacy says nonchalantly. "He's gut-shot. Extremely painful, but won't be fatal as long as he gets medical treatment in the next few hours."

"So...should we get him to an ambulance, then?"

"A lot of good men are hurt because of him," he says with a little bit of a growl. "He can wait his turn."

We both look back at the wounded and agonized Shocker, then back at each other.

"This isn't going to be the end of it. The Big Man sent these men after me as a show of force, to try and intimidate us into submission. It didn't work. Which means he's going to come at us again, and it's probably going to be a lot worse when he does."

"I understand. Truce until we take the Big Man down?"

"I don't make alliances with outlaw vigilantes. However," he says as he puts away his gun, "as long as you're willing to rein yourself in a bit, maybe keep from putting so many people in the emergency room while you're out there, I don't see why I couldn't give you a little leeway until L. Thompson Lincoln is behind bars. Call it a non-aggression pact."

"Sounds good."

"Anyway, I've got a busy night ahead of me. I need to clean up this mess, tend to my wounded men, file the paperwork to get these guys behind bars....but before that, I need to call my daughter. Make sure she knows I'm okay."

"...yeah, you do that. And hey, I know you said you don't make deals with vigilantes, but if something like this comes along, I hope you won't mind if I butt in. Have a good one, Captain."

With that, I jump out the window, triumphantly arcing over the wowed reporters down on the street and letting out a "YEEEEE-HAAAAA!!!!" before I stick to the building across from the police station and wall-crawl out of sight.

Okay, so overall, this was a pretty good night. I managed to save a few lives, take down a whole bunch of bad guys, get my first major victory against the Big Man and his syndicate, and score some points with the NYPD. Maybe Captain Stacy will let up a little bit now that I've saved his life....



.....oh crap. I just realized, I need to make a phone call as well.

I duck into a back alley, and pull out my cell phone, which is lighting up like a Christmas tree with all the text messages and missed calls I've got. A bunch from Harry, a couple from Mary Jane of all people, too. I can touch base with them later. Right now, there's someone else I need to call, to make sure she's okay.

I punch in the number, and wait for her to pick up.

"....Peter?"

"Gwen! I just got everyone's messages about what was going on. Are you okay?"

"....get over here, Peter. Now."

"But--"

"NOW."

She hangs up on me, and I don't really have the chance to respond. While the police and emergency workers all converge on the now-liberated police station, I slink away into the night, far away from the news vans and helicopters, before I manage to change out of my mask and hoodie, and duck into a subway station.




ONE SUBWAY RIDE ACROSS BROOKLYN LATER...


The streets are dark and empty as I make my way towards the Stacy household; looking at my phone's clock, it's nearly 1AM. And it's a school night. Norman is going to kill me if he finds out I've broken curfew again. But after seeing her dad get attacked on TV, I need to know if Gwen is okay.

I walk up to her front porch, and see her waiting with Eddie, both of them glowering at me.

"Where the hell have you been, Parker?" Eddie says with an accusing voice. "Every one of us was here for Gwen when she was scared out of her mind, but you're nowhere to be found! And you only have the nerve to show up after everything's already wrapped up and okay? What's your problem, man?!"

"That's enough, Eddie," Gwen says, quieting him down but still giving me a Stink-Eye that stops me in my tracks. "I'm okay now, but I need to have some words with Peter here. In private."

"Sure you don't want me to just set him straight right here?"

"I'm sure. Now get some sleep, Eddie. It's been a long night for everyone."

Eddie shrugs, steps off her porch, and heads home, intentionally bumping into me as he passes me by. I'm about to make one cutting remark or another about whatever crawled up his butt and died, but I see that Gwen's a lot angrier at me now than she is at him.

"Gwen, I--"

"Just come inside. Right now."

She storms into her house, and I meekly follow her, a deadly silence between us as she leads me down the stairs into the basement, which she's turned into something halfway between a laboratory and a rec room.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, she's turned around to face me, arms crossed, bloodshot eyes still stained with tears.

"You unbelievable bastard," is all she says at first.

"Gwen, I'm sorry I didn't get the calls, I really am. I was--"

"'In therapy' again, right? How stupid do you think I am, Peter?!"

"But I can--"

"No, no more 'explanations,' because you're just going to lie to me again! I trusted you, and you lie to me, again and again! I thought we were friends, Peter! I thought you cared about me!"

"Gwen....I do care about you. More than anyone else in the world."

"Then why couldn't you just TELL ME that you're Spider-Man?!"







"....wha--.........you--........I.......uh-..........."





































(The adventures of the Amazing Spider-Man will resume....as soon as he's able to form a coherent thought or sentence again)

bkhedr
05-31-2010, 04:14 AM
I walk through the crowd of the fishmarket, a coat pulled around me and the jump drive filled with information in my pocket. It's not that much. My security clearance is high, but not on the same level as Director 13.

I'm running a bit late since he took me a little longer to shake the agent assigned to tail me today. They're getting better agents to shadow me. I'm not sure what it says about HAMMER that they can't even trust Captain America.

Pushing through the crowd, I sit down on a bench and wait. He'll be here soon enough.


http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


The man in the yellow trench coat casually made his way through the crowd and took a seat on the bench next to Captain America.

He sat rigidly, with his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. Here was a man not accustomed to relaxing, to sitting comfortable, and yet he crossed his legs, folding one on top of the other, as if trying to feign an appearance of being relaxed and casual all the same.

"Captain." he said as he looked at the man sitting to his right. His voice was familiar to the Captain despite the lack of an artificial echo in its tone.

"Do not be alarmed." The man said amicably "I am the Vision."

Byrd Man
05-31-2010, 12:39 PM
The man in the yellow trench coat casually made his way through the crowd and took a seat on the bench next to Captain America.

He sat rigidly, with his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. Here was a man not accustomed to relaxing, to sitting comfortable, and yet he crossed his legs, folding one on top of the other, as if trying to feign an appearance of being relaxed and casual all the same.

"Captain." he said as he looked at the man sitting to his right. His voice was familiar to the Captain despite the lack of an artificial echo in its tone.


"Do not be alarmed." The man said amicably "I am the Vision."


"I was beginning to wonder if you'd show," I say as I continue to look forward. In my hands is a copy of today's paper. I place the paper on the bench next to Vision.

"I'm going to leave in fifteen seconds. The paper will stay on the bench. Wrapped up in the paper are two items. The first is a jump drive filled with all the information I could gleam. It's not the whole thing, but I think it's a good start for what you're looking for. Along with the jump drive is a communicator. It's a one-way link to myself. You impressed me on the helicarrier. If you ever need any help, call me on it. It's a two-way street, so I will contact you if I need your help. My fifteen seconds are up."

I stand up, stretch and keep my face turned away from Vision.

"Good luck. I hope that whatever you're looking for, you find it."

Rain Dog
06-01-2010, 12:49 AM
We’re back at Knowhere. The raccoon and his buddies have been telling the captain everything that went down on Earth as I sit, huddled up in a corner, trembling. And as he recants the nauseatingly violent and mind-meltingly disturbing details, I come to the horrifying realization that I am essentially trapped inside a metal box floating in space, surrounded by psychopaths with no means of escaping. Thousands of miles from any civilization or sanity. No one back home knows where I am. No one on this new Earth knows where I am. I could die right now and no one would ever know.
“…And that’s how we found the location of SCYLLA’s headquarters.”

“Excellent job, team. Howard, why so horrified beyond belief?”

“They…killed a man,” I whisper. I wasn’t trying to whisper but that’s all that came out o’the old bill when I tried to talk.

“Yes?”

“They killed an innocent man…they decapitated an innocent man!” I say, a bit louder.

“Right. They followed standard protocol.”

“An innocent man is dead! Beheaded in his own frickin’ home!” I shout, tears welling in my eyes.

“Right. Protocol.”

“Protocol?!”

Star Lord tapped a few button on the Knowhere supercomputer and an extensive list of rules was displayed on its massive monitor.

“Rule thirty-eight, sub-section B. ‘After sought information is extracted from informant/defector/prisoner, termination of subject is required, preferably through decapitation or vaporization.’ Bang-up job, team.”

“Woot-woot!”

“Are you people insane?! You didn’t extract any information! This crazy yellow ***** kicked his ass up and down and then had the sponsor guy take his head off with a football! And then you sick bastards all laughed about it afterwards!”

“Howard, I don’t know how much clearer I can make this for you.”

“Oh, what, is that protocol too?! Huh? Is laughing at a man you just brutally murdered protocol?!”

Star Lord stared at me in utter silence and turned back to his computer. He scrolled down the list a bit.

“Fifty two, sub-section C. ‘Upon completion of mission, one team member is required to make a quip relevant to the mission’s subject matter or to any methods used to complete the mission. Puns acceptable, non-sequiturs not permitted. Subsequent group laugh is mandatory.’”

“…You’ve gotta be ****ing kidding me…”

"Besides, we got plenty of information. Look what the subject said after we asked him where SCYLLA’s HQ is:"

Rocket tapped a few buttons on the computer and a holgram displaying that poor bastard's last few moments played in the center of the room.




"See?"

“What the **** are you talking about?!”

"Oh. God. Please. Clearly, he was referring to Ogap’li VI of the Anvari galaxy."

“Of course! That wretched hive of scum and villainy is well known for its…scum and villainy.”

“Rocket, are you sure about this? I mean. . .it’s my understanding that you have a bit of history with that planet.”

“Doop’s right, Rocket. Are you sure your personal problems aren’t getting tangled up with our mission?”

"I can assure you, what’s in the past is in the past, Star Lord."

“Very well. Adam, generate a wormhole that will transport us into Ogap’li VI’s orbit.”

“Can do, captain.”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore…”

“Hang on tight, guys!”

“I just wanna go home, man,” I sobbed.

“Here we go!”

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!"


http://img535.imageshack.us/img535/3899/wormhole.jpg


http://img442.imageshack.us/img442/3980/howardbannercopy2.png

“WAAAAUUUUUUUGGGGH…WWAUUUUUUAAUAUAUGGGHHHH…”

“Howard, quit vomiting, we have work to do!”

“Wha…whaAAAUAUUGHGH….What the **** just happened?!”

“We went through a wormhole that took us to the Anvari Galaxy. We’re currently in the orbit of planet Ogap’li VI.”

“I…I’ve never heard of that planet…”

“You’ve probably never heard of the Anvari Galaxy either. What with your primitive Earth-level astronomy and all. But it exists. Yup. Don't bother looking it up.”

“How do you guys plan on finding this ‘base’ exactly?”

"I think I can explain that Howard," Rocket said, putting his arm around me. Which, I must say, only made me feel about nine times as uncomfortable as I already was.

"Let’s head over to my quarters."

Make that twelve.
* * *

"Howard...a little earlier...you may have heard Doop and Star Lord say some things about me and my...’history’ with this planet..."

“Doop? Who the **** is—oh! You mean that hideous green floating thing? Man, I can’t understand a goddamned thing it says! I just see little symbols when he talks. How do you get any sort of meaning out of that?”

"I said what’s in the past is in the past. That my ‘history’ wouldn’t interfere with the mission...but I just don’t know if that’s true now...now that we’re here..."

“I mean, doesn’t it get annoying to see everyone speaking clearly and then just seeing this indecipherable block of text? I mean there could be significant plot points and revelations but you’d never know, you’d just see this block of symbols and think ‘wtf, man?’”

Rocket let out a deep, raccoony sigh. Presumably because he was a raccoon.

"I think I should tell you a bit about this place, Howard."

“Oh. Are we not talking about that blob thing anymore?”

"Howard, I feel like you’re the only one I can trust. I feel we’ve bonded quite a bit in our adventures."

“I disagree. Entirely.”

"You see...*sigh*...years ago, there was a woman."

"Oh it's one of these...*sigh*...do you have a beer or some snacks or something?"

"I loved this woman, Howard. More than anything. More than vaporizing SCYLLA agents, more than saving the universe, more than rummaging through trashcans at four in the morning. She was everything to me. Everything."

“And then she was killed?”

"Her name...was Magil."

“That’s a weird name.”

"Everyone we knew called her ‘Nancy’, though. Nancy was my one true love, and I asked her to be my wife. Right here. Right here on the moon-drenched shores of Oga’pli VI. Then...then he came. This sick, treacherous, degenerate bastard! An intergalactic outlaw known as Darkstar Dan. Dan was a gunslinger. A smuggler. A murderer. He met Nancy while she worked as a dancer and musician at the Raxus Saloon in the deserts of Oga’pli. He told her he was a pilot. Would come in everyday, talk to her. Ask for a dance. Bought her drinks. Soon she began to see him after work...and before I knew it that snake had her...in my house. In my house. In MY BED!!!"

“I…er….I’m sorry to hear th—”

"--THEN...then that sick **** ran off with her. With my fiancée! They fled the planet. Went to parts unknown. I searched and searched the stars but could not find them. I slunk into a deep depression, drowning my woes in alcohol, pork rinds, and the Big Bang Theory reruns...THAT SHOW’S NOT EVEN THAT FUNNY!" Rocket wailed, tears streaming down his furry snout.

“Um…maybe you should have a moment alo—“

"--But soon, I got my life together. I joined the Guardians. I found new strength, new meaning to my life. And I managed to put Nancy behind me. Or so I thought. About a year ago, there were sightings of Dan. He was said to have returned to Oga’pli VI. And as far as anyone knows, he’s still down there. With her. I thought I had gotten over it but as soon as I heard that, I’ve been wanting nothing more than to come here and search for them once again. And now that we’re here...I just...I know we have a mission at hand, Howard. I know the fate of our universe--and yours--depends on it. But...I don’t know if I can just ignore this. I have to find them, Howard. But the others can’t know. Will you help me?"

“What, uh…what exactly do you plan on doing when you find Dan?”

Rocket knelt and stuck his arm underneath his bed. After digging around for a bit, he yanked out a massive plasma rifle and then cocked the terrifying space-gun.

"I’m gonna shoot his ****ing legs off!"

I know that I shouldn’t help him exact revenge. And I know this is something I really should tell the other freaks about. However…I do feel kinda sorry for him. Also, he’s insane and has a massive ray gun pointed at my face so it would just be retarded to say ‘no’.

“I’ll help you.”

"Thank you, Howard. *sniff* Thank you."

A deep voice crackled over the ship’s intercom—it was Star Lord.

“Guardians, to the teleporters! We’re beaming down to Oga’pli’s surface in five minutes!”

Rocket turned to me and grinned a bat-****-crazy grin. The kind I’d imagine you'd see right before being gutted by Ted Bundy.

"Let’s roll."

TrueMastermind
06-02-2010, 06:30 AM
Victor took Logan’s leg into the left of his chest, loosing the air in his lungs. Rushing to the surface Victor refilled his respiratory system with air. Wolverine was heading for shore, Creed glared as he swam; for a man named after a cat, uncharacteristically. Catching up to Logan rather fast he grabbed hold of his foot and pulled Wolverine back into him. The rogue X-Man kicked victor in the face and broke his nose, it healed back. Sabretooth reached his claws into Wolverine’s chest raking him closer. Logan fought him tooth and nail. Victor decked him in the face, and Logan extended his claws into the larger mutants chest. Victor cired out in pain and then jumped out of the water using both hands to push the runt under.

Using blinding quickness, Logan made a 180 degree turn to slash Victor in the face. Not wishing for the battle to continue underwater, the runaway mutant managed to finally pull himself up to shore. Knowing that Victor would be stunned for a while, Logan looked up a the still afloat helicopter, which was circling the area. He required help. From the Reavers, from Weapon X, whoever. Otherwise, this little scuffle could prove to be fatal.

Andy C.
06-02-2010, 11:25 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



"....Spider-Man? You think I'm Spider-Man?!"

There was a Roman historian named Tacitus who once said "Crime, when exposed, has no refuge but audacity." I think the same might apply for super-hero identities. Just make it sound so absurd that she feels ridiculous even saying it.

"Oh come on, Peter, don't play dumb with me!" Gwen says, thus smacking ol' Tacitus down. "You 'got mugged' the night you came home with bruises all over your face, the same night my dad had to investigate a bar where Spider-Man took on two dozen armed thugs. You were 'in therapy' the night Spider-Man saved the Homecoming Dance from Max Dillon...the night you stood me up for our brainstorming ideas, the night you were going to......anyway. Then you suddenly got 'sick' and spent two hours in the bathroom when Spider-Man showed up to help those three superheroes take out that big green monster. You think I wouldn't start suspecting something?"

"But, I--"

"The clincher didn't come til tonight, though. I have to watch on TV as a gang of killers with laser guns attack the police precinct, try to kill my father, I'm scared to death, and you're not answering your phone no matter how many times Harry and MJ call you. And then who shows up on the TV? Spider-Man, firing your Science Fair goop out of the pneumatic wrist-sprayers that I made for you!"

....she's got me. She's got me dead to rights, and I've got no way to explain my way out of it. I don't have any cover story, any alibi that she'll swallow, no way to get past this one.

"Admit it, either you are Spider-Man or you're connected to him somehow. Admit it, or I'll call Eddie back to throw you out."

".....all right. I'm Spider-Man."

"Not good enough," she says, still pressing me. "Now prove it."

"But....but you just did prove it."

"No, I presented evidence. Circumstantial evidence at best, too. That's not the same thing as proof. I don't want to just hand you an easy alibi if you're actually out doing something wrong. So if you're going to admit to being Spider-Man, then back it up."

"Okay, okay, I'll prove it."

I take a step back, then turn to the wall lined with posters of Albert Einstein and Howard Stark. Most girls would have pictures of stupid sparkly vampires these days, I remark to myself before I place my hand on the wall, then get a foothold, then I climb right up the wall like it's no problem....because it is no problem when you've got super-powers.

I crawl along the ceiling towards Gwen, then hang down so that we're facing eye-to-eye.

"Ta-da," I say, smiling weakly before she takes a few steps back, her face going a little pale.

"You....holy crap, you are him. I...I need to sit down."

She staggers backwards before flopping down on the couch, and I hop back down to the floor.

"Oh God, I didn't mean to....Gwen, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just...wow," she says with a little bit of a laugh. "It's one thing to say something like that, but to actually see it is something else entirely. I mean, just thinking about it makes my head spin a little."

"Heh, you think seeing it is hard? Try living it," I say as I sit down next to her. "Gwen, this...I know this is big, but...I mean, I wasn't just trying to keep this from you. I couldn't tell anybody about this, not Harry, not Norman, not even Aunt May and Uncle Ben when they were....but this, this doesn't mean I'm hiding anything else. I'm still me. I'm still your friend, I'm still...."

"I know, I just....oh my God, heh. Peter Parker is a superhero."

"Yup. Peter Parker is a superhero."

We sit there for a moment just sharing a smile, both of us relieved to hear it and at the same time baffled by just how completely insane the whole thing is. Before this, I hadn't even stopped to realize how ridiculous the notion is, but now that I've got someone in on my big secret...it's actually pretty funny.

Finally, Gwen breaks the silence.

"So.....are you, y'know....a mutant?"

"Not really. Not originally, anyway. I wasn't born with these powers; for pretty much our whole lives I've been 100% plain old regular human. Until about a year ago, anyway. Remember that field trip we took to OsCorp, to Dr. Connors' lab?"

Gwen nods, then gasps in amazement.

"The spider bite!"

"Heh, yeah, the spider bite. I found out later that that particular spider was chuck full of some experimental super-soldier drug, something called 'SSM-AF15.' And it caused something that Dr. Connors and his team refer to as a 'DNA Reflux Reaction,' meaning that the drug reacted with the spider's genetic structure, and passed on its traits into me when I was injected by the spider's venom. So I've got all the speed and strength and fast healing of a super-soldier like Captain America--more than what the original Captain could do, in fact--and on top of that, I can stick to walls and react almost immediately to danger....do whatever a spider can."

"Wow....God, I was right next to you when that bug bit you. If we had switched places..."

"Yeah. You were about two feet to the left from being the Spectacular Spider-Girl. Wouldn't that have been something?"

I grin at the thought, and she grins with me. Then she raises an eyebrow, a question popping into her head.

"How exactly do you know all that other stuff? About the super-soldier serum and the DNA Reflux reaction, I mean."

"I, ummm.....I kind of broke into Dr. Connors' office and stole one of his jump drives."

Gwen just looks at me with astonishment.

"Well, if I went straight to Mr. Osborn and said 'hey, one of your experimental animals bit me and it gave me super-powers,' there's no telling what he would have done. They could have handed me over to the feds or locked me up in their own labs or God knows what else. I mean, this day and age, it's not a good time to be an unregistered mutant. If I ever get caught, I could end up spending the rest of my life in jail, or forced to serve HAMMER on one of their mutant-hunting squads. I wanted to keep my secret safe so I could have a normal life outside of costume, but.....I guess I can kiss that goodbye."

"...what do you mean? I'm the only one who's figured it out, right? And I'm not going to tell anyone."

I look away from her and sigh.

"Well, that's the thing: you kind of have to. Once I realized how serious my mutation was, I looked up the Mutant Registration Act passed in the 90s, and it says that anyone with information as to the whereabouts or identity of any unknown unregistered mutants is required by law to report them to the authorities, or be considered an accessory to the crime. So you've got to turn me in, Gwen. Otherwise you're aiding and abetting a fugitive."

There's a heavy silence in the room as she realizes the gravity of the situation.

"....no. I'm not turning you in."

"Gwen, you have to. If I get caught, you'll go to jail with me!"

"The worst that'll happen to me is I'll get a few months in juvenile hall and lose my scholarship to ESU. And that would suck, yes, but I could still get in at somewhere like Berkley, where the mutant rights activist-types would welcome me in. And anyway, all of that would only happen if you got caught. So don't get caught, Peter."

"It's not that simple, Gwen. There are huge agencies out there devoted specifically to hunting down mutant and superhuman criminals. I'm--"

"You're a hero, Peter, not a criminal. You saved Mary Jane at the Homecoming Dance, you saved all those people when that Hulk thing attacked....you saved my Dad tonight," she says, choking up a little.

"Well, to be fair, he did most of the saving himself," I admit. "Your dad's kind of a badass, actually."

"Either way, you're a good guy, and the world needs more good guys out there. I mean, just from a pragmatic point of view, the police are getting stretched out trying to fight the mob, and HAMMER and the X-Men can't keep up with every mutant and every super-villain running around now. And frankly, I don't think I'd want them to. We need more people who do the right thing because they want to, not because they're forced to. So Spider-Man's secret is going to stay a secret, because right now we need you.....and, well.....because I need you, too."

"....really? You'd be willing to risk it for me?"

"Yes," she says, and the look in her eyes lets me know she means it.

"I....I don't know what to say. Gwen, you're..amazing. You are, far and away, the best friend I've ever had."

"Yeah, that's me, your....friend," she says, finally breaking eye contact and looking down. "Like I said, though, just don't get caught. I really don't want to have to go to Berkley--hippies make me puke."

"I know, right? But yeah, I think I can manage. God, it's so good to just have someone I can finally talk to about all this stuff. Sometimes I felt like I was gonna explode keeping it all to myself."

"And hey, I can always help you come up with better cover stories. 'Oh, I'm feeling sick' is only going to work so many times."

"Heh, yeah, I--"

"And have you thought about getting a better costume? The one you've got right now looks like you just grabbed a bunch of random stuff out of your closet."

"Hey, I think it's pretty good.....well, no, okay, yeah, my costume sucks. I was going for the whole 'dark avenger of the night' sort of vibe, but I don't think it's working. The only people I seem to scare with it are innocent bystanders, and the bad guys just think I'm annoying."

"Well hey, maybe we can design a new one...together?"

"Yeah...that'd be cool," I say. "Heh, I've got myself an unofficial sidekick now. The Amazing Spider-Man and Gwen Stacy: Girl Genius. Heck of a team, huh?"

"...yeah..."

She smiles...

....I smile....

...then my cell phone buzzes to let me know I've got another text from Harry. "Oh jeez, it's almost 1:30. I really need to get home."

"Okay, yeah, I need to get to bed too," Gwen says. "Though I kind of doubt I'm going to be able to sleep. My dad nearly gets killed, my best friend is a vigilante superhero, and now I'm an accomplice."

"Yeah, it's been a pretty eventful day," I say as I make my way to the stairs. "Oh and hey, I never said congratulations on the Science Fair, so.....congratulations on the Science Fair."

"Thanks, Peter," she says, giving me a hug that gets a little closer than I was expecting. I mean, our middles touch and everything. "And thanks for saving my dad."

"Hey, it's what I do. All compliments of your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

With that, I head up the stairs, out the door, and begin the long walk back to the subway station that'll take me back to the Osborn Penthouse.

Man, what a day, I think to myself as I take a deep breath of the late night air.





.....what a great freakin' day.

sabetoonth
06-03-2010, 12:39 AM
Using blinding quickness, Logan made a 180 degree turn to slash Victor in the face. Not wishing for the battle to continue underwater, the runaway mutant managed to finally pull himself up to shore. Knowing that Victor would be stunned for a while, Logan looked up a the still afloat helicopter, which was circling the area. He required help. From the Reavers, from Weapon X, whoever. Otherwise, this little scuffle could prove to be fatal.

Victor shook off the slash from Logan as he crawled out of the Hudson River. Cracking his knuckles, Victor growled.
“Cmon Logan, wheres the animal?” Creed pounced on Logan, knocking him over and rolling before kicking him away. Standing up Victor noticed a sharp pain in his side. Looking down blood was gushing from a gash in his side. He hadnt noticed Wolverine rip into his flesh with those claws during the roll. The wound healed up and Victor sprinted at the smaller mutant. “GIVE ME A REAL A FIGHT!”

Mr. Majestic
06-03-2010, 08:14 PM
“Lets play shorty!” Victor launched himself through the choppers cabin space spearing his shoulder into Logan’s mid section and taking a slash to the face. They tumbled out of the side, and into in the empty air. Victor took an elbow to the back just below the shoulder blade. He bit through Logan’s top his felid canine teeth sinking into flesh and ripping it away. With a splash they landed in the waters of the Hudson. Taking a moment to recover Victor swam at Logan like a shark reaching his calws appendages out to continue the assault.

After seeing Sabretooth and Wolverine fall from the other side of the chopper I knew it was time for me to get into action.

I look back at Beast and the others. “I’m going down there to give Sabretooth a hand.”

I then jump out of the jet and fly down towards the river. While flying pass the chopper me and a young man lock eyes for a second. I paid it no mind and continue with the mission at hand. As I’m about to dive into the water I feel a sharp pain like four rugged blades are sinking into my back. I look back and see the young man I lock eyes with on my back with his hands against it. The pain is so intense I can’t concentrate on flying I end up losing control with him still on me. We end up fly pretty far away from the others going through some building windows ending up outside on the street. I ended up landing on top of a cab.

As I rest there for a moment I can feel my body healing right away. Who ever that guy was he must have used some knifes. I slowly roll off of the cab and land on one knee beside it. I look up a head and see my unwanted hitchhiker standing there with no weapon in hand. I kind of feel bad for him, this is going to be real easy now.

“Looks like you lost your knifes, shame because you were going to need them.” I tell him and I release my claws.

He looks down at my claws and smirks. Then he balls his fist and then claws then rips its way out of his hand.
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/77/214599-138939-daken.jpg

“Ahhh ****!”

TrueMastermind
06-03-2010, 09:30 PM
Victor shook off the slash from Logan as he crawled out of the Hudson River. Cracking his knuckles, Victor growled.
“Cmon Logan, wheres the animal?” Creed pounced on Logan, knocking him over and rolling before kicking him away. Standing up Victor noticed a sharp pain in his side. Looking down blood was gushing from a gash in his side. He hadnt noticed Wolverine rip into his flesh with those claws during the roll. The wound healed up and Victor sprinted at the smaller mutant. “GIVE ME A REAL A FIGHT!”



"Gladly." With the blinding quickness of a junglecat, Wolverine completely leaped over the cocky Victor before plunging all 6 of his claws into his enemy's back. Not wanting to wait to see the results of his strike, Logan slammed his foot smack dab into Victor's grimy face.

"There's your fight."

sabetoonth
06-03-2010, 10:57 PM
"Gladly." With the blinding quickness of a junglecat, Wolverine completely leaped over the cocky Victor before plunging all 6 of his claws into his enemy's back. Not wanting to wait to see the results of his strike, Logan slammed his foot smack dab into Victor's grimy face.

"There's your fight."

His nose broken and healing near instantly Victor swung his leg low to the ground in a tripping kick. Logan jumped into the air and drop kicked Creed’s chest. Rolling back Victor launched himself back toward his foe. Driving his shoulder back into his and rolling off as they made contact with the ground. They both stood up and Logan swung his fist into Victor’s cheek, you could hear the bone crunch even without heightened senses.
“OOHH! AHH! Son of a *****.” Victor held his cheek for a moment as the fight stopped. “You got me good there Logan, been awhile since its hurt that much, you been drinking Ovaltine?” as the bone fragments healed back together Victor shot his fists forward in a flurry of swipes and punches the an elbow in there every now and again

Andy C.
06-04-2010, 04:29 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

INTERLUDES:



"****ing Parker," Eddie Brock grumbled to himself as he walked home by himself. He knew that Peter was probably getting browbeaten from one end of the Stacy household to the other right now, but in the back of his head, Eddie still didn't like the idea of him being alone with Gwen. Just the thought of it made his blood boil, even if their intentions were completely innocent--something Eddie seriously doubted.

"****ing Gwen," he muttered. He was well aware that she didn't like him the way he liked her, a point which she made painfully clear the first time he asked her out. Why she changed her mind so soon afterward he wasn't sure, but he suspected it had something to do with Peter. Still, Eddie wasn't going to be the one to break things off, even though he could tell a mile away that their relationship was doomed. Partly it was because of his sheer stubbornness, trying to get her to see him in a better light...

...but mostly it was so Peter couldn't get Gwen himself.

Eddie wasn't sure when exactly he and his 'Little Bro' had their falling out, but he remembered Parker being the one who decided they weren't friends anymore. After all those years he'd looked out for the scrawny little freak, too, all those years he and Harry tried to pass Peter off for normal....all those years he watched Gwen give Peter all the attention. The second Eddie had found a new group to run with, a more popular one at that, and Peter starts crying about him 'selling us out' like he'd stabbed them in the back. Where did Parker get off criticizing him, anyway? Who the hell did he think he was?

Eddie kicked a trash can out of frustration, knocking it over and spilling the contents out onto the sidewalk as he walked by. He grumbled angrily as he had to step through the clutter he had created, swearing out loud when he stepped in a puddle of unidentifiable garbage-juice that soaked into his pant-leg.

Behind him, he heard someone laughing. It was a young woman's voice, one that was eerily familiar, but when Eddie spun around to see who it was, there was no one there. No one on ground level, at least--out of the corner of his eye, Eddie could swear he saw a figure pass overhead, like someone leaping from one building to another.

Eddie Brock paused for a moment, stared up at the rooftops in search of the mysterious girl, then made a bee-line for the nearest subway station.


THREE STORIES UP...


Tonight's training run had gone exceptionally well....with the exception of laughing at the poor schmuck she had been following when he stepped in garbage. Making noise like that nearly blew her cover completely, but she had to admit, it was really funny. The guy was a jerk anyway.

Sprinting away to avoid detection, she easily cleared the gap between buildings, not even needing the climbing gear strapped onto her tight black outfit. Her lithe, toned body was deceptively strong, able to launch her from rooftop to rooftop without breaking a sweat, and barely making a sound. All those years of bugging her parents about taking gymnastics lessons, dance lessons, karate and later wushu lessons, all of which they were so willing to pay for because they thought that spending money on her would make up for barely paying any attention as she grew up. She used to get in so much trouble, just to get them to look her way.

They hadn't seen anything yet.

He had seen him once, and that was all it took. A masked man who owned the city after dark, who came and went without a trace except for the calling cards he chose to leave behind. And while it was true he acted to protect people, at the end of the day he was still an outlaw. That man led a life of adventure and excitement, and she wanted in, one way or another.

Everyone knew Spider-Man only came out when the bad guys were in force. So she would give him something worth coming out for.

Perching on top of a convenience store, she stared intently at the jewelry store across the street and smiled. The time for training was over, she decided to herself.

The Black Cat was now officially on the prowl.



THE LABORATORY OF DR. CURT CONNORS, OSCORP FACILITIES:

"No, Miles, just....no."

Dr. Connors and his associate Dr. Warren had been arguing constantly over the direction that the DNA Reflux research was supposed to be taking them. Curt had been far more interested in using smaller doses of SSM-AF15 in conjunction with known animal hosts in the hopes of finding new ways to combat illness, to restore damaged tissues and prolong normal human life. Miles, on the other hand, had grown far more radical in many of his ideas, bouncing theories off of Curt about, well....all sorts of things that Curt wasn't sure were legal, but were most definitely unethical.

Animal people.

Human cloning.

Grafting bio-symbiotic 'suits' to human hosts.

Miles Warren was sounding less and less like a former Nobel Prize nominee, and more and more like a Hollywood mad scientist.

"Come now, Curt, be reasonable," Dr. Warren pleaded with him. "I'm not seriously suggesting we actually do any of these things, merely test their scientific viability. The things we've already done with the DNA Reflux reactions are barely scratching the surface! All I need is the data you've collected so I can compare it to my own notes. You won't even have to have your name attached to this, I promise."

"And how exactly will you be conducting this 'testing?' Because the last time I checked, you're still working for Oscorp, and they haven't assigned us any new projects outside of what we're currently working on."

"It's.....well, it's a new assignment Spencer and I are working on."

Dr. Connors raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't go into all of the details right now, but it's a high priority for Mr. Osborn himself."

"If that's the case," Curt said, patting his one hand on Dr. Warren's shoulder, "then Mr. Osborn can ask me for my data himself. Until then, the answer remains and always will remain: NO."

Dr. Warren gave Curt a hard look, like a desperate man who had just been spurned for help, and virtually slunk away into his office. Dr. Connors gave an exasperated sigh, then headed back to his own office. Mr. Osborn used to be such a forthright and honest employer, which was one of the main reasons Curt decided to work for him (aside from the handsome salary), but now....all these secret projects involving the SSM-AF15 serum, the DNA Reflux research....

Curt sat down into his chair, and eyed the locked safe where he had been storing all of his information after one of his jump-drives came up missing. He absolutely could not approve of the things that Warren and Smythe were proposing....

...but as he looked over at the terrarium on the far wall, filled with a collection of lizards....he was reminded that he could hardly be called guilt-free himself.

After all, the stump where his right arm used to be had grown back another inch this week....

FAR BENEATH MANHATTAN:

"The Shocker has failed me, Tinkerer," The Big Man said, his sickly yellow eyes burning with barely-contained frustration. "The NYPD will be emboldened by this. I will appear weak to Silvermane and the Russians. Spider-Man continues to be a thorn in my side. I believe you said you have the solution?"

"Not just one solution, Big Man," the Tinkerer said as he led the crime lord to the darkened makeshift laboratory deep beneath the old subway systems. "Both of my creations are far ahead of schedule now. In fact, the first one is almost ready for field-testing."

Behind several feet of reinforced concrete, a throaty roar of animalistic hate bellowed, followed by a thunderous BOOM from something hitting the wall.

"That won't hold him for long, but fortunately the sedatives will. Once his mind has adjusted to his new body, we'll drop him off in the middle of the city and just let him do what he was created to do. The NYPD will be helpless against my favorite new monster. And so will Spider-Man."

There was another loud BOOM, and the Big Man sneered.

"Excellent. Your pay will be wired into your account by the usual methods. You're only getting half until I see that the second project is successful as well. Although from what you've been telling me, Flint Marko's transformation may be a redundant gesture. Alex O'Hirn was useless to me before, but it seems that the Rhino may be just the beast I'm looking for...."

Eddie Brock
06-06-2010, 05:25 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

"Can I get you anything, Pepper?"

Pepper looks up from the documents she had been reading. Smiling, she answers politely, "No, thank you, Tony." She closes the file and places it down on the polished oak tray-table in front of her. "Although, I am curious why you thought to invite me on this business trip."

I look out the small jet window at the clear blue sky. "You're my personal associate. I wouldn't dream of flying across the Pacific without you," I respond. "Besides, you've been better company on this flight than Happy." I look over at my friend and assistant, who is fast asleep in the chair opposite us.

"How thoughtful," Pepper laughs. "But why do I get the feeling it has more to do with the armor you packed into the cargo hold?"

I smirk. Busted. "Officially, this is a business trip for Tony Stark," I explain, reaching into my pocket to pull out my PDA. I open a remote interface with Jarvis and pull up the Prodigal Sons program. "Unofficially, Jarvis and I have located another cache of Stark weaponry. I'm killing two birds with one stone."

Pepper nods understandingly. As she turns her head to look out the window, I can't help but think again how beautiful she is. The early morning sun shining on her features, those gorgeous eyes looking out through the sky. "Oh, look!" she says excitedly. "We're here!"

***

Singapore, the ultimate dichotomy of Western industrialism and Eastern culture. The heart of the city is marked by shimmering skyscrapers, while the edges are lined with shanty towns. Rich and poor alike inhabit this small island off the coast of Asia, and that's why I'm not particularly surprised a terrorist splinter cell is hiding stolen weapons on the outskirts of the city by the cliffs.

However, as the Rolls-Royce Phantom - generously provided by my local hosts - takes me down to the economic center of the city, I'm forced to remind myself that I'm here for other business as well. We pull to a stop outside a towering skyscraper, and I let Happy and Pepper exit the car before following.

From behind my auburn-colored sunglasses, I look up at Fujikawa Tower - home of Fujikawa Industries. The president and CEO, Kenjiro Fujikawa, was a close friend and business partner of my father. Under his direction, Fujikawa Industries has worked closely alongside Stark Industries affiliates and subsidiary companies in the region. He's a notoriously generous host and a very kind man.

As Happy, Pepper, and I enter Fujikawa Tower, we are instantly approached by a young Asian woman. I know her well. Rumiko Fujikawa, daughter of Kenjiro and a skilled businesswoman in her own right. She's only a few years younger than me, but I often think she's far ahead of me in maturity. "Mr. Stark, welcome to Singapore," she announces politely. She bows her head, and when she meets my eyes again, there's a knowing look. "I trust your flight went well."

"Superbly," I answer. "Shall we go see your father?"

Rumiko nods and turns around, leading the three of us to the elevator. As she walks, she continues talking. "I understand that you are here to personally invite Fujikawa Industries to the Stark Expo. My father is very excited to see what Stark Industries has planned for this year - especially in light of your father's untimely passing." Rumiko pushes the button and waits for the elevator. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Tony."

Pepper and Hogan exchange glances when she calls me "Tony." I may have neglected to mention that Rumiko and I have had encounters in the past. "My father wouldn't have wanted anyone to mourn his passing. All I can do now is honor him by running his company as well as I can." The elevator doors open, and I motion to Rumiko and Pepper. "After you, ladies."

TrueMastermind
06-08-2010, 05:30 PM
"I'm sorry man, I got a skyscraper worth of documents to look through." Denying a night out on the town once again because of his heavy work load, Mark Scott was pissed. Every Friday, his pals hit the clubs while he was stuck behind his oak desk, scanning over endless piles of documents. Was this what being a business executive is all about? Reading papers? If it was, Mark Scott was tired of it. To the bored businessman, his boss was insulting him. He had been valedictorian. He graduated with the highest degrees from Harvard. He had been hailed as a supergenius. But all that seemed to be a lost memory.

Pausing from his work to take a look out of his gigantic window upon the back wall, Mark's eyes sparkled from the bright, stunning lights of New York City, only discouraging him more.

"**** it."

Shoving his papers off his wooden desk, Scott gathered his things together and headed for the door, escaping his dreary prison. Mark Scott, Roxxon business executive, was going to party tonight.

sabetoonth
06-11-2010, 12:59 AM
“I just need to use the bathroom, that’s all.” Bruce explained gesturing best he could with his restrained wrists. “Why I’m locked up, it’s what happens when I'm stressed or angry.” Bruce continued because he really needed to use the bathroom. “And if it happens, nothing can stop it, it’s the strongest there is.” Bruce continued. Just then General Ross walked in the door, well, it was more like a vault.

“Dr Banner, your awake, do you think the government might incur you to work for us?” Ross greeted the mutated scientist. “We have a special request from a friend of mine, Colonel Haller from the Xavier Institute.” The General started. “One of his boys has gone rogue, he has a team going after him but wanted to know if I would be willing to lend a hand if needed.” Bruce looked at the general with a confused look on his face. “We need that thing to take down the rogue mutant Bruce.” Thunderbolt stepped closer to the bed. “Jones, step outside.”

“General, let me out of this thing, and I’ll use this thing as much as you need.” Bruce clearly told the old general. He wasn’t going to let his curse destroy lives because the military want it too.

Bruce was walked down the hall of the Helicarrier, he was going to be debreifed on the Weapon X situation. Colonel Haller had arrived for this occasion so that he could meet the “Hulk” subject. Walking through the cold metal corridors seemed to take forever before they finally approached a conference room of some kind, it as rather small, enough room for about 6 people, Banner, Haller, Ross, Talbot and two gaurds.

“Hello Dr. Banner, Colon-“

“Colonel David Charles Haller, base leader of the X-Men.” Bruce interrupted him.

“Yes, yes that’s right.” Haller didn’t have the expression of someoen who liked being interrupted on his face. He walked over to the end of the table turning on a projector. “This is the target, James “Logan”Howlett.” A series of images flash on the screen the projector was pointed to. A savage looking mutant with metal claws peircing the flesh of his knuckles, a brutal looking indivual. “Howlett is a dangerous living weapon, he used to lead the Weapon X force.” The slide showed continued on, pictures of the aftermath of a rampage he went on prior to joining Magneto, there was blood and guts everywhere, it used to be a special forces unit. The snow was stained red and the warmth of all the blood had melted most of it.

“He’s messy Colonel.” Banner said staring at the screen. “Do you have any footage of him in action?” Bruce qued.

The Question
06-11-2010, 12:40 PM
Lucia Von Bardas was abruptly pulled away from sleep by someone shouting at her. Before she could pull herself up from the mattress on the floor that served as her bed, a large figure she couldn't make out handed her some kind of mask and told her to put it on. It was completely dark in her cell. There was no window, and the lights from the hall that were usually on at all hours were now extinguished.

She hesitated in putting on the mask, expecting some kind of cruel degradation at the hands of her captors waiting for her if she did. The man in the room with her impatiently grabbed the mask and forced it onto her face. Immediately the room was made visible, albeit in a greenish tint, through the lenses of the mask. She could see the man clearly now; He was tall, taking up most of the cramped cell, and wore a cloak of some kind and a mask like the one she was wearing. It looked like some kind of gas mask, cobbled together from random pieces of lather and plastic, with wires sticking out at the temples and eyes that were completely black.

She heard a slight buzzing noise, and a quiet voice coming from what seemed to be an earpiece in her new headgear.

"I apologize for my tactlessness, but we have to go now," said the voice in barely more than a whisper.

"Who are you?" Lucia asked.

"I am here to free you. That is all you need to know at the moment. We need to leave now."

The man grabbed her by the hand and pulled her out the cell door, which lay open with the lock melted into slag.

They moved at a quick pace, passing several security officers lying unmoving on the ground of the hallway. The building seemed to be completely dark, though Lucia had a hard time telling through the mask's night vision. As they rounded a corner, they came across a lone security officer stumbling through the dark. He turned in their direction, apparently hearing the sounds of their footsteps, and asked who was there. Lucia's benefactor quickly took what looked like some kind of pipe out of a holster on his belt and bashed the officer over the head with it. He dragged Lucia off at a hurried pace before the officer hit the ground.

They made their way to a side fire exit. The man kicked down the door, and let Lucia to a dark alleyway. The rest of the street seemed to be dark as well. Victor went behind a dumpster and pulled an old rag off of what looked like a pile of trash, revealing a motorcycle with enough room for a driver and a passenger on the back. He got on and motioned for her to do the same.

After Lucia was secured into her seat behind her mysterious benefactor, the two rushed off into the night, the motorcycle, much to Lucia's surprise, barely making any noise at all.

"Who are you?" she asked over the two way radio.

"My name is Victor Von Doom.

"I have to thank you," she said.

"I have no more love for the king than you do. I was obligated to act on your behalf. Also, it was fun to beat a squad of security officers unconscious."

"What are we going to do now?"

"You will be staying at my farmhouse for the time being. It is tucked away near the woods, and there are many places to hide."

"I can't hide in a stranger's barn forever."

"You're not going to," he said "From there we are going to continue your work. This is just the beginning."

J'adore
06-11-2010, 02:14 PM
http://i43.tinypic.com/35lg4d0.png

"Release her, now! Get rid of the OMEGA project!"

"Scanners...detects JOCASTA,"


The doors of the dark room slowly opened, with Wasp walking through them with a heavy pace. Behind her, was Jocasta. "An Omega what--!?"

"I know you would show up sometime,"

Quickly, Jocasta scanned at the sight of a tall, muscular and voluptuous woman. She scanned every last inch, finding that she was indeed a humanoid. Created by a force unrecognizable. Then, a great voice boomed through the head of Jocasta, destroying her scan system instantly.

Minions, set me free!

In great unison, Jocasta and The Widow Maker grabbed their robotic heads in agony and fell on to their knees, screeching binary. "Ulysses, SHUT THEM UP!"

Wasp panicked, standing back. She clenched her fist and a yellow buzz shot out of her hand. Ulysses tried to get up, but his back was no definitely broken.

"My-my pocket..." Ulysses gestured towards the pocket in his long white lab coat. Wasp reached down into the pocket and dug her hand into it. She quickly felt a gun-type weapon and pulled it out. It was Ulysses' latest invention. The 'Klaw-Ray'.

"Of course...the sound ray." Wasp smirked. She span round and charged down on the gun, her finger tight on the trigger. A loud warping sound boomed out the gun, followed by rings of sound, hitting the still shrieking The Widow Maker and Jocasta. Their binary cryptic cries soon faded down and instead became into the language of English, at the same volume of before.

"Damn thing don't work!"

Wasp shouted in fury, she threw the gun against the large test tube in anger, then turned back to Ulysses. "I-I'm sorry,"

"Back up, immediately." Wasp firmly spoke into her small communicator, her eyes widening at the test tube door cracking.

"The Omega comes free, free. Free to serve Ultron. My wife, Jocasta, shall destroy the human embodiment, as well as humanoid assistance. The two shall bow down for Omega, as she is complete,"

Jocasta spoke weird and confusing words, her speech not making sense to Wasp and Ulysses. Soon, the two robots blacked out and collapsed to the floor, electric sparks flying out of the bodies.

The door of the room was then smashed open, letting about twenty yellow-suited Advanced Idea Mechanic agents march into the room, all armed with long silver stick weapons, with the same bio-electric energy Wasp uses, sparking out of the end. Then, a heavy cloud of liquid nitrogen erupted out of the large cracked test tube, the door now wide open. In the mist of the nitrogen, the agents could make out two red eyes.

"Awake mode, activated."

The Question
06-11-2010, 05:30 PM
"The Mayor will see you now."

Norman stood up and straightened his tie. He was very slightly nervous, he couldn't deny that. Matters of public relations had always been his least favorite aspect of business, in part because it was the most volatile. But the plan was solid, he assured himself. Superhumans were a hot button issue at the moment, and giving the greatest city in the country it's very own super hero the average citizen could trust would boost moral, and go a long way towards showing that despite the mistakes of the past, Oscorp had the best interests of the people at heart.

The Mayor shook his hand as he entered the room.

"Norman, good to see you."

"Mr. Mayor, it's a pleasure."

The Mayor gestured to a man standing in the corner of the room, with a golden badge pinned to his jacket.

"Norman, I'm sure you know the commissioner."

The commissioner nodded, slightly, acknowledging Norman's presence. The look in his eyes made it clear that it would take a lot to impress him.

"So Norman," said The Mayor as he walked behind his desk. "This proposal of yours. New York's very own official super hero."

"Yes, sir. I..."

"Seems a little fishy to me. There haven't been many supers the people felt safe around since Steve Rogers was killed way back when. Ever since then, talk of capes gets people nervous. Isn't helped that the most recognizable of the bunch these days is Magneto."

"Well, Mr. Mayor, that's part of the idea. With all of the troubles the world has faced because of mutants and other superhumans, a lot of Americans long for the days when we had a national hero we could look up to, like the original Captain America."

"And you're telling me you can make a national hero? Seems to me like that's something that happens on it's own," said the Mayor.

"A person becomes a hero on their own, but I have the resources to maximize their potential," said Norman.

The Mayor frowned, and furrowed his brow, mulling things over.

"The Commissioner here," said The Mayor, "he thinks it's a waste of our time and money. Why make a six million dollar mascot when we can use those resources to better train and equipt the police force we've already got. I'm not sure if I agree with him or not."

"I assure you," said Norman, shooting a look at The Commissioner, "both of you, that this is a worthwhile endeavor. Our processes of performance enhancement and weapons manufacturing are designed to have minimal upkeep. Our hero, once given his special abilities, will require no more funding put into him than the cost of food and a place to live. His equipment with be user friendly and is designed to withstand nuclear war. And this will be of no cost to the city, these services will be donated by Oscorp. I will admit that we do have an ulterior motive by trying to attract the attention of the federal government by putting our research into action here in the city. They're the prospective buyers we're looking for. Almost everything is already built and payed for. J. Jonah Jameson over at the bugle has even agreed to help with the public relations spin. We simply need a worthy candidate."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"We don't have any one candidate singled out at the moment."

"I'm not letting some nobody off the street packing that much firepower in my city," said The Commissioner.

"You're right, of course," said Norman, masking his irritation at the man, "it should be someone affiliated with the police department. If you would like, Jameson could work with one of The Commissioner's people to choose the perfect candidate, both from a practical and media friendly perspective."

The Mayor sat down in his chair. Norman could see the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options carefully.

"Alright," said The Mayor. "Norman, have Jameson call the Commissioner's office and see if they can find someone. I say we should give it a shot."

"You won't be disappointed, sir," said Norman.

"I better not be."

TrueMastermind
06-11-2010, 09:40 PM
His nose broken and healing near instantly Victor swung his leg low to the ground in a tripping kick. Logan jumped into the air and drop kicked Creed’s chest. Rolling back Victor launched himself back toward his foe. Driving his shoulder back into his and rolling off as they made contact with the ground. They both stood up and Logan swung his fist into Victor’s cheek, you could hear the bone crunch even without heightened senses.
“OOHH! AHH! Son of a *****.” Victor held his cheek for a moment as the fight stopped. “You got me good there Logan, been awhile since its hurt that much, you been drinking Ovaltine?” as the bone fragments healed back together Victor shot his fists forward in a flurry of swipes and punches the an elbow in there every now and again

In the skies above...

"What the hell is this? And who the hell are they!?" Steering the helicopter out-of-control, Banshee is totally clueless at what is going on around him. Looking down at the Hudson, where his new comrade and some unknown attacker are brawling, to the jet cruising alongside them, and then to Daken free-falling with some kid, Banshee only came up with one situation. Wreck havoc.

Ditching the controls to head to the back of the flying vehicle, Banshee motions for Domino to join him.

"We're both going to jump out at the same time! I'm going to guide this thing head-on into that jet! That's when we jump out! Got that?!" Domino quivkly nodded and Sean Cassidy hurried back to the front of the helicopter.

"HERE WE GO!!!" Sean swerves like a madman until the copter is heading straight for the opposing plane. Scared to get blown up, Cassidy dashes to the back once again before taking a leap of faith out of the helicopter of doom. WHile Domino copies his actions, Sean unleashes a sonic scream upon the X-Jet, making sure that all onboard passengers are taken out of the fight.

"HEY! I CAN'T FLY!" Hearing his teammate's outcry, Banshee swoops down and grabs the assassin by the shirt, saving her from an untimely death.

"Sorry, I forgot."
***
Wolverine falls to the ground with a painful thud, losing terribly to his furry rival. But he won't give up. He never gives up.

Pushing himself off the earth once again, Logan pours all of his uncanny strength into every slash and kick, desiring to beat his longtime nemesis into a early grave.

"You can't kill me Logan... you just don't have it in you..." As that last hiss drips out of Victor's lips, Logan notices the ensueing chaos overhead. Banshee and Domino are rapidly descending towards the Earth, as a huge mass of wreckage follows.

Deciding to take advantage of this distraction, Victor slams Logan back to the ground, immobilizing him in the process. The menace's disgusting slobber falls upon Wolverine's face and Logan cringes as he takes a whiff of Sabretooth's dog breath.

"Damn, you stink."

Andy C.
06-11-2010, 11:08 PM
Journalist David Brent strolled into the front lobby, fumbling for the keys to his condominium as he dragged his suitcase behind him. After the incident at the Madripoorian embassy and all the insanity that followed, he was looking forward to a few days of relaxing back on American soil. Let the other reporters worry about the Sons of Sam for a little while.

He was still trying to make sense of the things he saw, or thought he saw at least, regarding Ambassador Wu. The stress from the attack must have gotten to him, made him see things...those bullets couldn't have possibly....

Brent took the elevator up to his condo and opened the door. As he rolled his suitcase in and shut the door, he turned on the lights....

....and nearly jumped out of his shoes when he saw an old man with an eyepatch standing in his living room.

"David Brent," he said with an aggressive but officious tone. "You were there the first time the Sons of Sam attacked. I need to know what we're dealing with here. That's why you're going to tell me exactly what you saw that day."

"I....I....the Sons of Sam have already said who they are! They're a splinter from HAMMER that went rogue, right?"

"Wrong. HAMMER has been infiltrated on a few occasions before, something my organization has gone to great lengths to prevent from going public. This is not one of those occasions. The Sons of Sam are not HAMMER. They are not American. And I have reason to believe that their leadership isn't even human."

"You...you mean mutants? Like the Brotherhood?"

The man in black stared a hole through Brent, as if he had said something stupid.

"Whatever is behind the Sons of Sam is intentionally trying to destabilize relations between the United States and Madripoor. Two technological superpowers in a rapidly deteriorating situation. Someone is playing both countries for fools, someone or something that may be a danger to the entire planet. Which is why it is absolutely vital that you tell me everything you saw."

David Brent stammered, then sat down and told the old man his story, eyes facing down like he was in confession, unable to look up for fear of feeling ridiculous when he told him about the more insane parts of what had happened.

When Brent looked up, the old man was gone.

Eddie Brock
06-11-2010, 11:35 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

"What's the forecast, Happy?"

Happy taps his PDA with the stylus. "Clear skies, boss."

I nod. "Glad to hear it." I'm standing in the middle of my private hangar, dressed in a full-body undersuit. The undersuit has a few strategically-placed electrodes to monitor my biorhythms while I'm in the armor. Additionally, the fibers of the fabric are lined with microscopic neural receptors. They are hyper-sensitive, and they respond to the electrical signals in my nervous system. It's what allows me to control the suit from the inside.

Pepper stands up the largest piece of the armor, the lower torso. When she twists a knob on the outer side of the thigh, the legs separate and expand so that I can step into them. Pepper tightens the knob, and the armor locks into place around my waist and legs.

Next, I hold out my arms. Pepper attaches the armor piece by piece, starting with the gloves and working towards my shoulders. I flex my fingers to make sure that I have adequate movement within the suit. Pepper checks to make sure all pieces are properly fitted and locked into place.

Pepper lowers the chestplate over my head, and it clicks into place. "I suppose I should design a portable suit-up rig for situations like this," she jokes, though I can tell she's seriously considering the idea. She adjusts the armor's collar, protecting my neck.

As she hands me the final piece - the helmet - I say, "It sure would be much easier if I could just carry this in a briefcase." I lower the helmet onto my head, and the armor springs to life. As the HUD boots up, I say, "Good afternoon, Jarvis. Did you miss me?"

"More than you could possibly imagine," Jarvis answers sarcastically.

"Vacation's over. Time to go to work."

***

"What does that look like to you, Jarvis?" I ask as we approach a settlement by the cliffs. It's right where the Prodigal Sons locator said it would be.

The HUD highlights and enhances several images of the settlement. "To my count, sir, there are over thirty pieces of stolen Stark Industries property on site," Jarvis replies. "Perhaps more in the buildings."

I clench my fists. "Let's hit 'em hard and fast. Lead with the unibeam, fire on my command." I increase speed as I make my first approach. The armor flies so silently that they don't even hear me coming. "Fire." A devastating blast erupts from my chestplate, blowing up the heart of the settlement before the terrorists are even aware I've arrived.

"Detecting multiple hostiles."

"Oh, I have their attention now?"

I land in the epicenter of my unibeam blast, issuing a challenge to the men who stole my father's inventions. If they think they have the firepower to take down Iron Man, then let me see it. My first challenger charges with an AK-47, but I knock him away with a simple repulsor blast before he can empty his first clip.

"Incoming grenade."

I spin and pluck the grenade out of the air. It poses no threat to my armor. As a show of strength and intimidation, I close my fist around the grenade and hold it tightly until it explodes. It scratches my armor, sure, but I'm in no real danger. "Jarvis, call Rumiko Fujikawa."

"Hello?"

"Rumiko, it's Tony," I explain, activating sound-dampening within my helmet to keep Rumiko from hearing the gunfire. "Listen, it was really great seeing you again today, and I was hoping we could meet up later for drinks." Meanwhile, I unleash a sonic shockwave that knocks back all attackers in range.

"Oh, Tony..."

"I'm serious. Come on down to my private hangar tonight. I can send you the address right now." The address of the hangar I rented at the Madripoor airport comes up on my HUD, and I email it to Rumiko while staying on the phone. "We can have drinks on my plane. I think you'll remember the complete bar I had installed."

"Actually, I'm much more familiar with the private bedroom at the rear of the plane," Rumiko replies in a sultry tone.

I smile as I upend an oncoming truck full of terrorist soldiers. "I thought you might. So it's a date, then?" I kick a terrorist in the ribs, sending him flying through the roof of a hut.

"I'll see you later."

As Rumiko hangs up, Jarvis comes back online. "Are you quite pleased with yourself?"

"Not yet." I charge a repulsor blast and fire it directly into a cache of explosives. At the settlement goes up in a massive fireball, I take off, leaving it all behind. "Now I am."

Eddie Brock
06-12-2010, 12:13 AM
Araña

"¡Feliz cumpleaños a tí! ¡Feliz cumpleaños a tí! ¡Feliz cumpleaños a Aña! ¡Feliz cumpleaños a tí!"

I rub my tired eyes and smile at Dad. He's standing at the end of my bed, holding his hands behind his back. At this point, I've become used to my annual birthday wake-up call. Dad always likes to be the first person to wish me a happy birthday, and he always gives me my gift first thing in the morning.

"Good morning, hija. I think you know what today is," Dad says with a wink.

Still smiling, I reply, "Thursday?"

Dad laughs. "It's hard to believe that it's already been a year since your quince. Mi niñita is growing up right before my eyes," he says with a heavy sigh. "Do you know that I'm so proud of the young woman you're becoming?"

"Only because you tell me at every possible opportunity."

"I'm allowed to be proud of my daughter," Dad responds defensively before smiling once more. He glances back over his shoulder. "Well, I think you know what the next birthday tradition is. El regalo." He takes his hand out from behind his back and hands me a small black box. "Well, ¡ábrelo!"

Sitting up on the side of my bed, I carefully and excitedly open the box. When I do, I'm stunned by what's inside. "Oh, Dad..." I hold up the white gold pendant in the air, watching the morning sunlight reflected in it.

"It was your mother's," Dad explains. "I found it a couple of months ago when I was looking through a box of her things. I had it polished for you." When I look into his eyes, I see a small tear. "I know she would have loved to see you wear it."

I lift the hair off my neck so I can get the pendant on. After I do, I throw my arms around Dad and whisper, "Thank you, Dad. It's beautiful."

"I only wish she could see you now," Dad says as he tightens our embrace. "I know she'd be proud of you, too." As we break, I see Dad wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. On days like today, it's so hard living without her. I know exactly what Dad is going through. But life goes on - a point that could not be made any clearer than when Dad says, "Alright, now. Time for la escuela. You better get ready."

Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek, wishes me happy birthday again, and leaves my room. I stare at myself in the mirror, eyes fixed on my mother's pendant. For a moment, I swear I can hear her voice, wishing me a happy birthday as well. Before I know it, I've got a tear welling up in my eye.

Not today, Anya. Today is a happy day.

I smile at myself in the mirror. Life goes on. Life always goes on.

sabetoonth
06-12-2010, 07:50 AM
In the skies above...

"What the hell is this? And who the hell are they!?" Steering the helicopter out-of-control, Banshee is totally clueless at what is going on around him. Looking down at the Hudson, where his new comrade and some unknown attacker are brawling, to the jet cruising alongside them, and then to Daken free-falling with some kid, Banshee only came up with one situation. Wreck havoc.

Ditching the controls to head to the back of the flying vehicle, Banshee motions for Domino to join him.

"We're both going to jump out at the same time! I'm going to guide this thing head-on into that jet! That's when we jump out! Got that?!" Domino quivkly nodded and Sean Cassidy hurried back to the front of the helicopter.

"HERE WE GO!!!" Sean swerves like a madman until the copter is heading straight for the opposing plane. Scared to get blown up, Cassidy dashes to the back once again before taking a leap of faith out of the helicopter of doom. WHile Domino copies his actions, Sean unleashes a sonic scream upon the X-Jet, making sure that all onboard passengers are taken out of the fight.

"HEY! I CAN'T FLY!" Hearing his teammate's outcry, Banshee swoops down and grabs the assassin by the shirt, saving her from an untimely death.

"Sorry, I forgot."
***
Wolverine falls to the ground with a painful thud, losing terribly to his furry rival. But he won't give up. He never gives up.

Pushing himself off the earth once again, Logan pours all of his uncanny strength into every slash and kick, desiring to beat his longtime nemesis into a early grave.

"You can't kill me Logan... you just don't have it in you..." As that last hiss drips out of Victor's lips, Logan notices the ensueing chaos overhead. Banshee and Domino are rapidly descending towards the Earth, as a huge mass of wreckage follows.

Deciding to take advantage of this distraction, Victor slams Logan back to the ground, immobilizing him in the process. The menace's disgusting slobber falls upon Wolverine's face and Logan cringes as he takes a whiff of Sabretooth's dog breath.

"Damn, you stink."

Victor let the drool drip down into Logan, like when an older sibling dangles it over a pinned youngster, but Vic didn’t just dangle it, he let it drip down on his face.

“God, you stink” Logan said.

“Well, Haller didn’t let me brush my teeth or take a bath before we shipped off.” He pinned Logan down, ready to render a killer blow, well if it was a normal human it would be. Just then he noticed the explosion, the team was bailing out of the jet as it burst into flame. Distracted Logan took the chance to take the shot and stabbed Victor through the back of his head, rendering him in immense pain and unconsciousness.

“AHHHHHH!”

The one real weakness to a healing factor is the central nervous system.
**
Hong Kong, 1968

Victor Creed had hunted down the majority of the mob that had once burned down the home of his new friends and family, the Nakumarus. None survived, only he did. And he swore vengeance on them, he would hunt down and kill them all! This was the last one. The very last one.
The night air was cool, but Victor’s blood was hot, he leaped over the gaps in the roofs as he breezed through the night in search of the murderer. He made a series of sharp turns, and drops decending, ascending, going left, going right. He finally stopped ontop of a bar he knew the man frequented. Creed would wait out here and when he exited the bar, the man would die an agonizingly painful death, just like Reiko, and her family.

4:00 AM

He wabbled out of the bar, barely able to stand, Victor had managed to stay up the whole night by keeping himself moving, and when he saw the target, he sprung from the roof, to the roof of an old truck, then the ground, sprinting right into the man as he screamed knowing who was taking him.
Victor crushed his laranyx, that would shut him up and keep him from benng tracked. He carried him off into what remained of the night, stashing him in a warehouse that hadnt been used since before England had its foot in Hong Kong.

Returning that night Victor unbound the killer, he could see the terror in his eyes, it was thrilling for Victor.

First thing he did to punish the bastard was remove his finger nails, by force. He then used his claws to irritate the underlying skin now exposed. He then stripped him naked and dunked him in the cold water where the harbor came into the warehouse so boats could unload cargo. He had him submerged for maybe an hour before Creed brough him up. The next thing he did was skin him, alive, and then he hunged the body in the streets, stowing away on a ship to no where as far as Victor knew, but it would lead him to the rest of his life.
**
Victor woke up in the back of a truck, military by the looks of it. The rest of the team was present; they looked alive, but pretty beat up.

“What happened?” he asked as he sat up the grogginess beginning to wear off.

“Well, our former friend and leader took the opportunity that was the detonation of the jet and our prompt exit and rendered you out of commission for the fight, which was quite the brawl if I don’t say so myself.” Beast replied first in that oh-so intelligent voice of his.

“Ve lost dem, sey out did us.” Kurt said in the least of confident voices, his accent thickening.

“We’ll get them next time, which will be soon, and we’ll be prepared for it.” Victor looked at his of his team mates, this was the team was going to help him track down and capture his greatest foe, could be worse, but couldn’t be much better, Logan had picked these mutants because they could work as a team, and he knew how they worked as a team, Victor would have to retrain them.

“We’re goin back to the Mansion right?” Victor qued the living cargo.

“That’s right Sabretooth, you’re all going back.” The guard sitting in the front seat answered.

TrueMastermind
06-12-2010, 07:53 AM
I'm in the club with my homies, tryna get a lil V-I, keep it down on the low key, cause you know how it feels.
I said shorty she was checkin up on me, from the game she was spittin my ear you'd think that she knew me.
So we decided to chill



Music blasted throughout the Chaos nightclub, with the thundering beat drumming upon Mark Scott's ears. Sitting at the bar with a cold wine in hand, he scanned the scene, seeing if he could try to make an appearence on the dance floor.

Conversation got heavy, she had me feelin like she's ready to blow!
(Watch Out!, Watch Out!)
She saying come get me, come get me,
So I got up and followed her to the floor, she said baby lets go,
When I told her I said

With no idea where his co-workers could be, Scott was a little more than scared to join all the sexy, gifted woman sliding all around the dance floor, scared that they would reject me before he even began. Pouring another sip of wine into his pale lips, letting the refreshing drink relax the businessman in the midst of all this madness.

Yeah (yeah) Shorty got down to come and get me
Yeah (yeah) I got so caught up I forgot she told me
Yeah (yeah) Cause if my girl new it'd be best to hold me
Yeah (yeah) Next thing I knew she was all up on me screaming:


Slamming the drink upon the bar, Mark made his way to the dance floor, willing to embarrass himself for a night of fun. Working his into the crowd, Scott started to exhibit a few moves, going along with the beat. To his suprise, one of the numerous sexy women started to slide on him. And suprising him again, he showed no signs of anxiety and continued to dance his *** off.

Yeah, Yeah yeah, Yeah yeah, Yeaah
Yeah, Yeah yeah, Yeah yeah, Yeaah

For one night, Mark Scott was the life of the party.

TrueMastermind
06-12-2010, 08:29 PM
"Hercules...wake up Hercules..." Sunshine poured through the windows, casting light upon the early 20's, sexy brunette laying next to Mark Scott. Applying lipstick to her model-like lips, she looked down at the aching business man with a desiring stare. Scott could see that they were in his penthouse apartment and it was rather obvious at what had occured last night.

But Mark remembered nothing. Probably the result of a heavy overdose of alcohol and excessive partying. But if that was the case, how the hell did they get here. Club Chaos was quite a drive away, too much of a distance to drive intoxicated. Oh well, no one got hurt. He just couldn't allow it to happen again. Simple as that. Wait a minute...

"Who the hell is Hercules?" The brunette chuckled, as if Mark had made a little funny. Once she saw that her partner was totally serious, her expression transformed into one of bedfuddlement yet amusement.

"Do you not know your own name, silly?" Hercules? His name?

I must have been real out of it...

Looking at the woman up and down, he wondered why such a sexy lady would ever decide to go to bed with him.

Maybe I'm cuter than I thought...

"Anyways, I got places to be. Expect a call from me sometime soon." Scott's enchanting blue eyes followed the woman alway the out the door before switching to the view outside the window. If that business executive position did any good, it was the pay. His salary was large enough to have a wide array of luxuries, including his spacey high-rise. He deserved it.

The white-collar worker entered his kitchen in an expensive robe, aiming directly for the fridge as he was in dire need of food. Managing to dig out some Fruit Loops and orange juice, Scott's standard breakfast, he appeared to be in no rush at all. Even with his alarm for work going off like a mad chicken, Scott seemed to be in no rush at all.

He wasn't going to work today.

sabetoonth
06-13-2010, 04:34 PM
Bruce was walked down the hall of the Helicarrier, he was going to be debreifed on the Weapon X situation. Colonel Haller had arrived for this occasion so that he could meet the “Hulk” subject. Walking through the cold metal corridors seemed to take forever before they finally approached a conference room of some kind, it as rather small, enough room for about 6 people, Banner, Haller, Ross, Talbot and two gaurds.

“Hello Dr. Banner, Colon-“

“Colonel David Charles Haller, base leader of the X-Men.” Bruce interrupted him.

“Yes, yes that’s right.” Haller didn’t have the expression of someoen who liked being interrupted on his face. He walked over to the end of the table turning on a projector. “This is the target, James “Logan”Howlett.” A series of images flash on the screen the projector was pointed to. A savage looking mutant with metal claws peircing the flesh of his knuckles, a brutal looking indivual. “Howlett is a dangerous living weapon, he used to lead the Weapon X force.” The slide showed continued on, pictures of the aftermath of a rampage he went on prior to joining Magneto, there was blood and guts everywhere, it used to be a special forces unit. The snow was stained red and the warmth of all the blood had melted most of it.

“He’s messy Colonel.” Banner said staring at the screen. “Do you have any footage of him in action?” Bruce qued.

“Why do you need that Banner?” the General qued.

“I may be a scientist General, but I do know how to defeat an enemy when I need to that’s why I took Judo.” Banner walked around the table, he looks at stills of the carnage Howlett had wrought in the past.

“But you won’t be fighting Banner, the Hulk will.” Thunder Bolt said to reacquaint Bruce with his mission: “Let it out.” Bruce sighed.

“General, I can’t just let it out; it exhausts me physically every time.” Bruce started explaining what he knew about the thing. “It doesn’t have an on and off switch, it goes until the batteries run out.”

“And if the batteries run out in the air or while lifting a truck over your head?”

“Then that’s the last truck either me or the hulk will heave.” Bruce said without missing a beat.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Haller said from the other side of the table with impatience filling the air about him.

“They took off after they beat your team Dave; we still have to find them.” Thaddeus turned to his friend with the look of authority he gave all his subordinates. “Who ever finds them first alerts the other to the coordinates agreed?” he held his hand out for the Colonel to shake as Bruce looked on. He was the pawn to two military officers who probably care less for him then for the mud on their boots from the last war zone they stepped in.

“Ok Thaddeus, deal.” The two friends shook in agreement

Eddie Brock
06-13-2010, 09:41 PM
Araña

"Anya, wait up!"

I turn and see Ted Mankowski, my longtime neighbor and good friend, jogging to catch up to me. He throws on his backpack and adjusts his glasses. For as long as I've known him, Ted has been way into computers. He's the only kid I know who actually hacked the school's system and altered his grades, and even then he was just bumping his B+ up to an A. He's actually really chill, but I wouldn't call him socially "savvy," so to speak.

"We haven't walked to school together in forever," Ted laughs. "But I'm glad I caught you, 'cause I wanted to give you your birthday present."

"You got me a present?" I ask in disbelief. He hands me an envelope, and I feel myself blushing. "Oh, Teddy!" No one calls him "Teddy" - and I mean, no one - but me. And I only earned that right because I used to call him that in the second grade. When I open the envelope, I'm even more shocked. "Oh, my God!"

Ted smiles proudly. "I know, right?"

"Tickets to see Dazzler in concert?!" Dazzler is, quite simply, the greatest band ever - in my humble opinion. I've followed them since their first album, Amazing Fantasy. Unfortunately, since a large number of my friends are girls, I have trouble finding fellow fans. Ted shares my taste in music.

"And..." Ted reaches into his back pocket and pulls out another little surprise.

"Backstage passes?! I'm going to meet Alison Blaire?! Did you have to kill somebody to get these?"

"No, nothing that complicated," Ted laughs. "I know a guy who's working the arena for the show. I called in some favors and managed to snag these."

I stare disbelievingly at the backstage passes. This is easily the coolest moment of my young life so far. Alison Blaire is totally one of my role models. "Teddy, you are the best. Ever."

"I don't know about 'best,' but I'm definitely top five," he jokes.

***

Lynn Tanner is my best friend. We might as well be separated twins or something. It's that close. She has been there in the trenches with me through everything - my mom's death, the first days of high school, every crush, every breakup, every teenage catastrophe. If I ever wanted to write an autobiography, I would call Lynn to help me remember all the glorious details.

"Okay, you know the rules," Lynn warns me. "You are not - under any circumstances - to read this card until you're alone in your room after school." Lynn and I have a long-standing birthday tradition. Instead of gifts, we try to find the funniest birthday cards for each other. We also try to fill the entire card with a special birthday note. It usually consists of inside jokes, memories, heartfelt expressions of friendship, and lots of stupid attempts to make each other laugh. We think the card idea is way more meaningful than a gift.

And we're also sixteen and jobless, which means we're broke anyway.

I roll my eyes. "I promise, okay? Now, hand over the card." I hold my hand out expectantly, and Lynn gives me the card. As she watches, I tuck it away in my backpack, next to the Dazzler tickets Ted gave me.

"Woah, is that new?" Lynn asks, pointing to the pendant Dad gave me.

"Oh. Yeah." I had forgotten that I was wearing it. Holding it out so Lynn can see, I explain, "My dad gave it to me this morning. It was my mom's."

Lynn looks at me. "Are you doing okay with that?"

I shrug. "You never really get used to it, but I'm okay. I know wherever she is, she's watching me right now."

The bell rings, breaking up the growing tension.

"Come on. Even on my birthday, Ms. Wegmann's not going to cut us a break."

Eddie Brock
06-14-2010, 09:48 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

"Tony?" Rhodey calls out. I hear his footsteps approaching, but I don't look up from my computer screen. "There you are. What's up?"

"I was able to confirm my suspicions about a leak in Stark Industries," I explain, spinning around to face my old friend. "Someone on the inside is supplying these weapons to the Black Market, and it's someone with considerable authority." I spin back around and point to the screen. "Check this out."

"What am I looking at, exactly?" Rhodey asks confused.

"Stark Industries' numbers for the past six quarters," I reply. "But the numbers don't add up. Our revenue stream is off-the-charts, and it's not all accounted for." I click the mouse, and the Prodigal Sons program pops up on the other side of the screen. "And from my work in the field, I know there's no way that all missing weapons are being reported."

Rhodey rubs his chin contemplatively. "Someone is tampering with the program? Deactivating the locating beacons?"

I nod. "Exactly. Look." I pull up several online reports of terrorist attacks around the globe - attacks using Stark weapons. An anti-mutant demonstration in Genosha, a suicide bombing in Iran, a guerrilla attack on the outskirts of Wakanda. "None of the weapons used in these attacks were reported as missing or stolen."

"So what are you going to do?"

"The only thing I can do. I'm going to speak to Obadiah. The person responsible for this has to be on the board."

Rhodey hesitates. "Are you sure you can trust Obadiah?"

I shrug. "My dad did. That has to be good enough for me."

TrueMastermind
06-15-2010, 08:31 AM
It was over. For now. Victor had fallen, unable to rise again. Killing him would do no good, plus it was near impossible. Looking at the burning plane to the panting Banshee, Logan realized the damage that this one man has caused him over the years. His former teammates walked up without a word, Kurt must have teleported them out of the crashing X-Jet, and carried their new leader to a newly arrived military truck. Logan was quite suprised Haller didn't send backup, he was never one to fight fair.

Before the conscious members of Weapon X left the scene, Beast stared at Logan for a bit with a certain twinkle in his eye. Hank knew their situation was not right, with a vile villain leading their team and them chasing the only man who could rightfully act as their captain. But their predicament wasn't going to change anytime soon, if ever.

"Hold up one minute," Beast turns around to face the damaged Banshee, "Where's Daken?"


"Where's Calvin?"

A loud, manly scream is heard from not too far away and members from both teams rush towards it.

TrueMastermind
06-15-2010, 09:19 AM
"Where the hell were you?!" Mark Scott twiddled his bony fingers while the short-tempered Brian Sagar, vice president of Roxxon, continued to hurl his anger right at him.

"I was sick."


"Sick?! You were sick?! And you wonder why you're always signing papers? Keep this up, and you'll find yourself out of a job!" As he slammed the door behind him, Mark smiled to himself. If this bufoon even manged to work the courage to fire their most intelligent executive, he could find another high-paying job in an instant. But if Sagar actually did fire him, he would pay. Badly. Nobody was going to embarrass Mark Scott without consequence. And that consequence could be deadly.

Scott dialed a number on his cell phone. It was to his older friend, Richard Geiser of the Brand Corporation, Roxxon's scientific branch. Mark had knew long of the illegal activities that his old branch participated in. Outfitting criminals with weaponry, stealing other company's projects, and many others. If Sagar ever did relieve him, Mark planned to expose the company for its dirty little secrets.

"Hello?"

"Hello Richard, it's Mark. How are you doing?"

bkhedr
06-16-2010, 03:48 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


The man called Victor Shade waited until Captain America had disappeared into the crowd before collecting the small package left on the bench and stuffing it in his pocket. He then rose and casually walked off in the opposite direction.

It is not long before he arrives at an abandoned warehouse near the waterfront. By the look of it, this warehouse has not been disturbed in decades, the heavily rusted lock and chain coiled around the main entrance testify to its abandonment and betray no hint of the fact that the threshold of the warehouse has been crossed several times in the past few days.

And how could they when the comings and goings are those of one who drifts ghostlike through the aged steel and glass as Victor Shade does now, disturbing nothing, and leaving no trace of his entry.

Inside the warehouse is dusty, unkempt, and barren. What little light filters through the cracks in the wall and the dusty windows, does little to lessen the gloom, but Victor Shade seems hardly to notice as he leaves his feet and floats upwards, passing through another wall and into a small second floor office. Here at least, in the space that has been passing as his home and headquarters.

Only once he is back in his sanctuary does Victor Shade deactivate his artificial image inducer, dropping his disguise and reverting back to his colorful android appearance.

The Vision retrieves the package given to him by Captain America and deposits the communicator on the metal table on the far side of the office.

As he does so he cannot help but wonder as to the Captain’s motivation for helping him and just how much the help might end up costing him, but having already accepted it, and having no reason to distrust the Captain, he dismisses his doubts and turns his attention to the fruit of his dealings with the Captain. The hard drive and the data on it that he hopes will give him some lead, some clue, about Ultron’s whereabouts, if for no other reason than to prevent Karpov or the Widowmaker from finding him first.

Settling into an old steel chair the Vision makes a fist around the hard drive and begins analyzing the information it carries. As he does so, he reaches out with his free hand and turns on an old radio, already tuned to a local jazz station. The sound of upbeat jazz fills the small room as the Vision sits blank faced and continues his analysis. A subtle tap of his foot in tune with the beat serving as the only indication that he is even aware of the music.

bkhedr
06-16-2010, 05:47 AM
http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg



The Embassy of Madripoor:

Painters stand on ladders in the hallways of the fabulously modern building as they work to remove the few remaining reminders of the Sons of Sams' terrorist attack on the embassy.

In his office deep within the recesses of the structure, away from any disturbances, Ambassador Wu goes over the latest reports from his spies and grins with satisfaction.

The plan was working to perfection. Between his own diplomatic efforts and the horrifying brutality of frightening effectiveness of the Sons of Sam, public opinion in the United States had now swung clearly in favor of Madripoor and of the Premier. Better still, the American media, always eager to side with the winners and add their voice to the majority rather than being alone in dissent, had one by one, also swung in favor of Madripoor.

Politicians, intellectuals, businessmen, the millitary, all of them were feeling the need to condemn the Sons. This stance inherently made them friends of Madripoor and slowly but surely the plan was taking effect.

Soon the United States, the most powerful nation on planet Earth, would be so hopelessly compromised socially, politically, economically and military that it would be powerless to stand against him when he made his move.

Soon. Very soon.

But not yet. The plan, such as it was, called for the subduing of an entire nation and from there an entire planet. It required subtlety and patience, and there was still cause for concern, still steps that needed to be taken.

Putting his papers down, Ambassador Wu hit the buzzer on his desk and spoke into an intercom.

"Ms Wynn, please send Mr. Whiteman in." The Ambassador said before easing back into his chair and interlocking his fingers infront of him while his elbows rested on the chair's arm rests.

"Mr. Ambassador." John Whiteman of the State Department's Madripoor Desk said as he stepped into the office and shut the heavy wooden door behind him. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

"My pleasure John." The Ambassador said as he gestured for Wu to sit down "Now tell me, how are things at the State Department."

"Good Sir. Very good. Opposition to cooperation with Madripoor has virtually disappeared and the latest reports indicate that the Millitary is thrilled with your country's tech. So much so that the Secretary of Defense intends to give a speech at the Pentagon next week announcing our solidarity with Madripoor and declaring our intention of developing a long term millitary alliance with your nation."

"Is he now?" Wu raised an eye brow, intrigued.

Whiteman was one of the first state side American officials that Wu had successfully subverted with his hypnotic stare. His influence over the man was so strong that he was now providing Wu with choice information even without being prompted.

"Do you have information on the details of the speech? When it will be held? Where exactly in the Pentagon building?" Wu asked intently

Whiteman simply nodded, as if oblivious to the fact that he was revealing secure information. "I do Sir."

"Excellent." Wu said as he leaned back in his chair once more and his mind went to work.

Soon the Secretary of Defense would be dead. Murdered in the heart of the Pentagon by the Sons of Sam for doing what was right for America just because it also happened to be right for Madripoor. The nation would scream bloody murder and those members of Congress and of the Senate whom Wu had subverted would face only enthusiastic support when they moved to increase cooperation with Madripoor. The Premier will offer to send Madripoorian Counter Terrorist Advisors to aid in the operations against the Sons of Sam and the US will be grateful for the opportunity. And as his power grows, while his influence becomes all the more deeply rooted no one will even notice that the new Secretary of Defense is his choice, his man.

Soon he thought again Very very soon.






http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg

The Pentagon

Even during the quietest of times the complex buzzes with activity. Thanks to the contuining terrorist activities of the Sons of Sam, and the added pressure this has put on the men and women responsible for America's security these are not quiet times.

Security at the Pentagon has doubled in recent weeks and the added MPs have increasingly been armed with weapons designed and built in Madripoor, and assembled in the United States. For as the threat posed by the Sons of Sam grows so too does the relationship between the United States and that small island nation as they attempt to pool their resources against a common foe who has proven to be frustratingly difficult to counter.

Today marks a significant step forward in the struggle against the Sons and cooperation between the two nations. For today is the day that the United States Secretary of Defense is scheduled to deliver a new speech outlining the details of cooperation with Madripoor and his revised strategy for ending the Sons of Sam's wave of terror.

Needless to say the Pentagon is as busy, and as secure, as it has ever been. Unfortunrately it is not enough, for even now a a small group of heavily armed men make their way through the subteranean tunnels of the great complex. Their mission, to kill the Secretary of Defense during his speech.

Eddie Brock
06-16-2010, 11:19 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

Obadiah looks at the evidence I presented, then he looks up at me. "This is very interesting, Tony," he concedes. He closes the file and stands up, adjusting his suit as he does so. "To be honest, I think you may be onto something."

"Are we on the same page about the proliferation now?"

Nodding, Obadiah puts his hand on my shoulder. "For what it's worth, I apologize for not listening to you when you brought this up earlier. I was so wrapped up with the Iron Man situation and the Expo..." He points to the file on his desk. "These numbers are cause for concern."

"So what do we do?" I ask. I'm glad to finally have an ally in Stark Industries on this. For a while, it seemed I was in this fight alone. "Clearly, we're looking for someone on the Board. It had to be somebody with enough clout to keep the transactions off the record."

"I have my suspicions, but we can't afford to be careless here," Obadiah warns me. "Whoever's been doing this is clearly smart, and if we give him an opportunity, he might just wriggle his way out of this. We don't tell anyone about this until we have more evidence."

I nod. "Understood. So how do we get the evidence?"

Obadiah frowns. "We don't do anything," he explains. When I give him a look, he continues, "Look, the Expo is this weekend. We don't want to have anything ruining that, do we? I hate to do this to you, Tony, but let's shelve this little problem until the Expo has passed."

I don't believe this. I come up with solid evidence that there's a leak in Stark Industries, and Obadiah is still concerned with the Stark Expo and the Iron Men reveal. Every second we waste, the culprit could be covering his tracks! "Obie..."

"Tony, once the Expo is over, you have my full attention," Obadiah assures me.

Andy C.
06-16-2010, 11:56 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif

"I wish I was a goth kid right now," I say as I climb out of the back of Harry's car, still groggy from only getting about three hours of sleep last night. "Goth kids get to drink coffee."

"Goth kids also write terrible poetry and wear makeup," Harry says, opening the passenger's side door for Liz. "And speaking as your friend, you would look hideous if you ever got that pale."

"Besides, coffee is bad for you," Liz chimes in. "It stains your teeth, and caffeine is addictive and stuff."

Some sage advice there, coming from the girl best known for getting so wasted at Sally Avril's Sweet Sixteen that she threw up in Rand Roberts' face while trying to make out with him. Ugh, lack of sleep makes me grumpy.

"I guess I can just grab a soda from the vending machine," I resign as we make our way out of the parking lot towards the courtyard of Midtown High. "That is, if I can make it in the building first..."

Sure enough, there's Flash Thompson and his meat-head squad, thankfully not out on the hunt for nerdy prey this morning. Instead, it sounds like the king jock is too busy gushing over my admittedly amazing activities from last night.

"And then Spider-Man was all like 'WOOSH!' right over the guy's head! And then SPLAT! He friggin' shoots webs out of his hands! How cool is that?!"

"Huhuh, yeah, I didn't even know he could do that," Kong adds.

"Kong didn't know something, big surprise," Mary Jane mumbles under her breath.

Eddie Brock practically rolls his eyes as Flash recounts the story that everyone watched on the news last night, while I try to slip past them unnoticed.

"And then he did this move to Shocker, like...okay I can't really explain it, just lemme show ya. Okay, I'll be Spider-Man, and....who wants to be Shocker?"

Just keep a low profile, Parker, get to the soda machine before they spot you, and....

"Parker!" Eddie calls me out when he sees me.

"Yeah, there we go. Puny Parker can be Shocker," Flash says with an evil grin.

"....fine," I say with a sigh of resignation. I've learned by now it's better to just take my licks, and that was before I had a secret identity to keep up. "Just get it over with quick. The way you're gushing about Spider-Man, I'm a little worried that you're gonna spray out some 'webbing' of your own."

Rand and Kong bust out laughing, while Flash's mouth tightens up into a thin hard line. That boy does not like it when I get one on him. Behind him, Eddie sneers, because he knows I just signed my own death warrant.

"Stay still, Parker, this is only gonna hurt for a second..."

"Lay off him, Flash!"

Right on cue, there's my saving grace, as Gwen steps in between Flash and me. MJ raises an eyebrow, her interest piqued by the sudden standoff.

"You don't even know half of what Peter's going through right now, and the last thing he needs is you idiots picking on him."

I can't help but smile as Eddie looks at her dumbfounded. She turns back to me and grins ear to ear; looks like she's taking this 'unofficial sidekick' thing to heart.

"Oh, what, you're taking his side after he bailed on you again yesterday?!" Eddie says incredulously.

"I didn't 'bail' on anybody, Brock," I cut in. "I was blowing off some steam after the Science Fair and I had my phone turned off."

"Oh, so you ran off to go cry after losing your big nerd convention? Man, you're even more of a loser than I thought!"

"Oh, grow up, Flash," she says, disgusted. "You too, Eddie."

Gwen storms off, Eddie trailing behind her apologetically. Flash still looms over me with Mary Jane at his side. MJ looks at her boyfriend, then back at me, and grins. That's never a good sign.

"You know what, Flash?" she says, with that playful tone of hers that always means she's just devised some new creative torment. "Gwen's right. You do need to grow up."

She shoves Flash off of him, then puts herself between me and the jocks where Gwen was just a second ago. Wait....what?

"It's been fun, but I'm tired of babysitting you. Consider us over until you stop acting like a fifth-grader."

Flash and Kong just stand there shocked. Quite frankly, so do I.

After a few seconds, Mary Jane finally says, "Well, go on. Move along now."

Flash and his cronies sulk away, and I start backing away before Mary Jane looks back at me with a grin.

"Well? Aren't you going to say thanks?"

"Honestly, I'm still trying to piece together what just happened. Did you really just dump Flash Thompson for picking on me? Y'know, your old favorite pastime?"

MJ shrugs.

"Admittedly, yeah, I could've been nicer. Which is what I've been trying to work on after the whole 'Max Dillon trying to kill me for being mean to him' thing."

".....so....you're being nice to me now because you're worried I'm going to flip out and go on a rampage?"

"You are so taking that the wrong way, Tiger," she says, rolling her eyes. "And anyway, me dumping Flash isn't exactly the only big news around here. A little kitty told me that you were hanging out at Gwen's house until like 2AM last night."

My face goes instantly red, and Mary Jane just laughs as I stammer.

"That's not--.....we just--......we didn't--"

The bell rings, and MJ mercifully lets me go.

"Anyway, I'll see you in Biology later. They're forming our study groups today, and I want to get as much brain-power in my group as possible. So you'd better be ready to get me an A, Pete."

Mary Jane winks, and I just stand there for a minute, before I realize that I've got to head to class myself.

So let's see...now both Eddie Brock and Flash Thompson probably hate my guts, even more than usual.

Gwen knows that I'm a superhero, and is practically busting at the seams with excitement over it.

And Mary Jane Watson of all people is suddenly all winks and smiles at me.

I get the feeling that this is going to be the start of some very interesting times in the life of Peter Parker.

Of course, the thing that worries me about that is that "interesting" can mean a whole lot of things....

Eddie Brock
06-17-2010, 12:59 AM
War Journal, First Entry: 17 June 2010

This is an old trick I picked up during my Delta Force days. They say that keeping a journal helps organize your thoughts. It's supposed to help keep you sane. Right now, I just feel like an idiot. But it's not like I have anyone else to talk to. At the time of writing this, I am getting ready to take down Billy "The Beaut" Russo, once and for all.

I wish I could tell you that I enjoy this, that I get some kind of sick satisfaction out of what I do. But if that were true, what kind of monster would I be? No, this isn't about me getting my kicks or taking up a hobby. This is about punishing the men responsible for what happened to my family. Am I going to enjoy watching Russo take his last breath? Sure. No evil deed goes unpunished.

***

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

Frank Castle puts the finishing touches on his tie as he steps into the kitchen. He takes a deep breath, appreciating the smell of coffee in the air. Sunlight streams through the window over the sink. Frank walks up behind his wife, Maria Castle, and hugs her from behind. Kissing her neck, Frank closes his eyes and soaks in her scent.

Maria was my everything. She was my life.

"Somebody's having a good morning," Maria smiles. As her husband continues gently planting kisses on her neck and shoulder, she continues washing the dishes. When Frank hits a sensitive spot, she groans in satisfaction before giggling. "Sssssh. I think someone else is awake."

No sooner does she say this than little Lisa Castle comes running into the kitchen. Frank releases his wife and spins around to face his daughter. Smiling while leaning up against the counter, Frank says, "Hey there! Ready for school?"

Lisa shakes her head, her pigtails bouncing as she does so.

"Why not?"

"I gotta have breakfast with Daddy!" she answers innocently.

I never loved anyone the way I loved my daughter. Maybe it's because - luckily for her - she looked just like her mother. I would have moved mountains for that little girl.

Smiling, Frank picks up his daughter and holds her in the air. "Oh yeah? Well, Daddy has to have breakfast with you, too!" Frank puts Lisa down in a chair at the kitchen table and hands her a bowl of cereal. Turning around, Frank receives a cup of coffee from his wife. Giving Maria a wink, Frank grabs the milk carton and hands it to Lisa. "Can't have cereal without milk!"

Frank takes a sip of the hot coffee as he sits down at the table. He picks up the newspaper and scans the headlines. Glancing over the top of the paper, he sees Lisa watching him with a smile. Frank returns the smile, and the little girl goes back to eating her cereal. Frank takes another sip of coffee, enjoying a peaceful morning with the family.

I'll be back with my family again before long.

Eddie Brock
06-17-2010, 10:19 PM
Araña

"Hey, Anya, I think I left my book back at the gym. Want to come with while I get it?"

I shrug and turn around. If Lynn is the twin sister that I never had, then Nina Smith is the older sister I never had. Senior and captain of the soccer team, Nina really took me under her wing when I tried out for the team. She and I have been close ever since, though she likes to remind me that she's older and wiser so I should listen to her. I've found that the way to deal with this is to just agree and do whatever I was going to do, anyway.

Nina leads me into the gym and flicks on the lights.

"SURPRISE!"

I'm stunned speechless as I'm greeted by a gym full of my teammates. Goalkeeper Ann Weying stands in the center, holding a cake shaped like a soccer ball. "Oh my God, you guys!" I feel my face turning red. They got me good. "This is awesome!"

The three fullbacks - Bambi Modica, Miranda Couper, and Candace Muggins - step forward. These three girls have been attached at the hip since birth, I'm pretty sure. They have quite the habit for finishing each other sentences.

"We know that, like, the quinceañera - or whatever - is like a Sweet Sixteen for you," Bambi begins.

"But, like, we wanted you to feel like you had a Sweet Sixteen, anyway," Miranda continues.

"It was Nina's idea," Candace adds.

I look at Nina for confirmation, and I receive it in the form of a smirk. I turn back to the whole group, smiling, and say, "Well, thank you! All of you! This was so thoughtful!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't eat too much cake. I'd hate to make you run suicides the day after your birthday," Nina jokingly threatens. "Well, are you going to light the candles for her or what?"

Julia Carpenter - the third forward along with Nina and I - walks up with a match and lights the candles. When she's done, she looks at me and says, "Happy birthday, Anya."

With everyone watching me, I close my eyes and blow out the candles. "And before you ask, I'm not telling any of you my wish!" I announce with a laugh.

Carlie Cooper, a midfielder, speaks up, "Well, how do we cut the cake?"

Everyone looks at Nina. Her eyes widen a little. "Oops," she says simply.

Cissy Ironwood is the first to burst out laughing, as usual. Soon enough, the entire gym is reverberating with our laughter, and Nina turns a little red. I'm the only one to notice. All in all, not a bad birthday.

Andy C.
06-17-2010, 11:09 PM
12 HOURS AGO......

"David Brent's recounting of the events that took place during the first 'Sons of Sam' incident have only strengthened my suspicions," the old man said into a small digital recorder. After having his recent bouts of memory loss and blacking out, he decided it was important to 'back up' his memory in case it happened again. "Ambassador Wu was indeed shot by one of the attackers, but the bullet was deflected by as of yet unidentified means. Brent alluded to it being a 'force-field,' which seems likely, given that surveillance footage taken from the attack on the Abrams factory shows one of the attackers deflecting bullets through a similar method. Whether this force-field is technological in nature or a paranormal ability has yet to be determined."

Pacing back and forth in the dimly-lit back room of a long forgotten warehouse, the man in all-black military garb and an old trenchcoat recounted his story without worry of interruption.

"What most definitely has been determined, however, is that the Sons of Sam are a front group, their pro-American rhetoric actually a facade for straining relations between the United States and Madripoor. My organization has eyes and ears in every corner of the US government and military, and found no previously unreported leaks in security. Therefore, it is safe to assume that Madripoor is funding and arming the Sons of Sam. Where they're getting their intel, though, had not been determined...."

The bound and gagged man tied to the metal chair sitting in the center of the filthy room mumbled.

"Which brings us to you, John Whiteman," the old man said, addressing his prisoner. "You've done admirable work for the State Department over the years, most recently facilitating the ties between the two countries in question in this little crisis. You've been spotted visiting the Madripoorian Embassy on several occasions before the attacks, and have been known to have several private talks with Ambassador Wu himself."

Whiteman all but whimpered behind his gag.

"You've been telling Wu an awful lot of things lately, haven't you?" the old man asked, drawing an old combat knife from a sheath on his hip. "Well now you're going to tell those same things to me."

The man in black slid the knife against Whiteman's face, and cut the gag from his mouth.

"I....I swear to God, I didn't know! It's Ambassador Wu, he's got this....his eyes, they....I never meant for this to happen, I swear!"

"Not surprised. At least four other people when questioned implied that Ambassador Wu has some form of extrasensory influence, possibly telepathic. That would suggest mutation, but the larger situation at hand suggests otherwise. Madripoor could barely even be called a third-world country not long ago, and suddenly they're decades ahead of the technological curve. Madripoorian technology bears a stronger resemblance to artifacts recovered during certain, classified operations, than anything found on Earth. It's very likely that there is a non-human presence in Madripoor, though the exact species of origin is unknown. Intentional or not, you have endangered your country, John Whiteman, and quite possibly the human race itself."

The edge of the old man's knife glided millimeters away from Whiteman's throat, tracing up and down his jawline as the old man circled him.

"I....this is insane, you're insane! You're honestly suggesting that Ambassador Wu is an alien?! That the Sons of Sam are being run by aliens?!"

"When you've seen as much as I have, you learn not to discount possibilities, no matter how far from the ordinary. And believe me, you have no idea how much I've seen. Right now by collaborating with Wu and the Madripoorians, you could be considered a traitor. And in a time of war, treason is punishable by death."

"Oh God...."

"However, you still have a chance to save your life, your reputation, and more importantly, your country."

The old man held the blade of his knife directly against the prisoner's Adam's apple.

"You tell me when, where, and who the Sons of Sam are going to strike next."

The Pentagon

Even during the quietest of times the complex buzzes with activity. Thanks to the contuining terrorist activities of the Sons of Sam, and the added pressure this has put on the men and women responsible for America's security these are not quiet times.

Security at the Pentagon has doubled in recent weeks and the added MPs have increasingly been armed with weapons designed and built in Madripoor, and assembled in the United States. For as the threat posed by the Sons of Sam grows so too does the relationship between the United States and that small island nation as they attempt to pool their resources against a common foe who has proven to be frustratingly difficult to counter.

Today marks a significant step forward in the struggle against the Sons and cooperation between the two nations. For today is the day that the United States Secretary of Defense is scheduled to deliver a new speech outlining the details of cooperation with Madripoor and his revised strategy for ending the Sons of Sam's wave of terror.

Needless to say the Pentagon is as busy, and as secure, as it has ever been. Unfortunrately it is not enough, for even now a a small group of heavily armed men make their way through the subteranean tunnels of the great complex. Their mission, to kill the Secretary of Defense during his speech.

NOW

Quickly and stealthily, the Sons of Sam snaked through the underground tunnels of the Pentagon, closing in on their target. This many floors below, security was more lax than above; it was always extremely unlikely that the virtual fortress could be infiltrated from below.

Still, even with the majority of the MPs and other armed personnel above, protecting the Secretary of Defense, the lower reaches of the Pentagon were not without guardian angels.

As the squad of masked terrorists rounded a corner, one lagged behind. The air seemed to shimmer behind him for a moment, then his head twisted hard to one side, snapping the man's spinal cord.

Two more swept down a nearby corridor, passing by an office with the door cracked open just slightly. There was a quick succession of pffffut--pffffut whispers, and the two gunman fell dead to the floor, bullet holes drilled neatly through their skulls.

The squad's point man approached the staircase that would take them to the next floor, preparing a breach-and-clear maneuver to neutralize anyone on the other side.

As he did, however, the door exploded inward on him, the fiery blast and lethal shrapnel cooking his flesh and shredding him to pieces....the door having already been prepared to blow from the other side.

The squad of terrorists stopped dead in their tracks, getting behind cover to acquire a firing solution on any incoming enemies that would step through the door. Before the smoke could clear, though, they found they were not alone.

Deactivating their active camouflage, a squad of heavily-armed and armored operatives revealed themselves, a soldier for each of the Sons, pistols and assault rifles trained on their newly-captured enemies at point-blank range.

Stepping through the ruined door, an old man with one eye approached the Sons of Sam, drawing a pistol from its holster and aiming it at the squad leader.

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/jaynemodel2.jpg

"This is as far as you go."

Andy C.
06-17-2010, 11:15 PM
[EDIT: Double-Post]

Rain Dog
06-18-2010, 12:14 AM
http://img442.imageshack.us/img442/3980/howardbannercopy2.png


“Alright team, here’s the breakdown: Rocket, Mantis, Howard—you guys will scan the deserts of Oga’pli VI. Adam, Moondragon, Groot—”

“I am Groot!”

“Shut up, Groot. You guys will be beamed to the lush jungle region. Doop, NFL Superpro, and I will take on the planet’s capital. Remember, try to find anything you can about the location of SCYLLA’s base. It has to be somewhere on this planet. Everyone ready?”

“Break!” NFL Superpro shouted.

The last thing I remember seeing was a bright, blinding light and feeling this strange tingling all over my body. When the tingling stopped, the air around my suddenly felt much warmer and the bright shine of the teleporter was replaced by the bright glare of the sun.

“Ugh…is this—ow! OW!” I scream. I begin hopping up and down, trying to keep my feet from frying on the hot desert sands. I should invest in some shoes.

"Here we are...the Oga’Pli Desert..." Rocket said, taking in the sight of hundreds of rolling sand dunes and some sort of shanty town in the distance.

"There," he said, pointing to the town, "That’s where the old saloon is. I’m gonna git that boy..."

“What boy? What are you talking about, Rocket?”

“Er...a SCYLLA Agent...we have reason to believe he’s hiding in a saloon in that town."

“You said nothing of a saloon on the station…”

“Slipped my mind. Let’s go."

“Rocky, you know how I am around alcohol…it may be best if I waited outside.”

"Nonsense, you’ll burn up in this heat! Now we may be here a while. Luckily, that saloon rents rooms, so let’s go check in."


* * *


The dingy saloon looked like something out of that cantina from Star Wars: Bunch of weird-lookin’ bastards chortling and dancing about, pounding down drinks while some cheeky band played music in the background. I kept waiting for Harrison Ford to show up.

Rocket approached the barkeep—fat and hairy, looked human. Reminded me of my landlord.

“Room for three, please."

The barkeep fired a glob of saliva from his mouth into a nearby spittoon, letting off a loud PING!

“How long?”

“Can’t say yet."

PING!

“Hrrrm…forty galactic pesos a night.”

“Galacitc pesos?”

“That’s fine, that’s fine."

PING!

The barkeep knelt under the counter for a moment, and then popped back up, tossing Rocket a key.

“Second floor. Room #9.”

"Thanks," Rocket said, catching the key and giving a quick salute. He then looked over his shoulder to Mantis.

"Mantis, why don’t you wait down here and keep a look out for anything suspicious? Howard and I will go up and check out the room real quick."

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Rocket…”

Rocket leaned in toward the barkeep, placing a clenched paw on the bar counter. He slid his paw towards the barkeep, and unclenched his hand, revealing three strange-looking coins.

“Give her a gin and tonic and keep ‘em coming," he whispered before turning around and dragging me upstairs. The barkeep greedily scooped up the coins and nodded. He mixed up the drink and slid it towards the green chick.

“Rocket, you bastard! Get back here, that isn’t funny! Rocket!!!”

Her screaming grew fainter and fainter as we climbed the steps. I dunno what she’s *****ing about. I’d kill for a drink right now.

“You don’t need it Mantis…you’re strong…you’re will power is equal to none…”

http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/4949/ginandtonic.jpg

Drink Me.

“…Just because it’s there doesn’t mean you have to drink it…just ignore it…it’s just a stupid drink…”

http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/4949/ginandtonic.jpg

Driiiiink Meeeeeee

“As a matter of fact you’re going to march upstairs right now! There’s nothing keeping you down here! Just turn around and start walking!”

http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/4949/ginandtonic.jpg

DRINK ME, *****!

“Oh God!”

Glug glug glug


* * *


Our room…looked like ****. Straight ****. Like my apartment ****. After my apartment was blown up ****, that’s how bad it was.

"Looks like they didn’t clean the bathroom," Rocket said, as he dragged a corpse out of the bathtub.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Yeah, I’m definitely filing a complaint at the front-bar," Rocket said as he tossed the dead body aside and began rummaging through an old, beat-up drawer. He pulled out a black leather book and began flipping through its gold pages.

“I was unaware that deep space was in Gideon International’s jurisdiction…”

“Oh, yeah. They even put these in hotels in parallel dimensions."

Rocket dropped the Bible back into the dresser and kicked it shut.

“So…do we go back downstairs now, or--”

Then the raccoon whips out the ol’ plasma rifle.

“—God damn! Please don’t point that think at me!”

“Calm down. The safety’s on. I think......yup, the safety’s on."

“Alright, you go do whatever sociopathic thing you’re planning on doing and I’ll go down and make sure Mantis hasn’t been kidnapped or eaten or something. I swear I saw a ****ing werewolf doing shots down there…”

“Mantis will be fine, Howard. She’s a master martial artist, a skilled telepath, and a raging alcoholic. She won’t be going anywhere. What we need to do is figure out how to find Nancy and that son of a ***** Dan so I can get with the shooting-off-of-his-legs."

“I kinda assumed you had that all figured out already…”

“REMEMBER PUNY SENTIENTS: THE WORLD FAMOUS RAXUS SALOON HOEDOWN IS TONIGHT! PREPARE FOR SOME SERIOUS DOSEY DOEING!!! RAAAARGH!!” a terrifying voice on the intercom growled.

“Why is there an intercom in motel room?”

“Of course! Nancy loved dancing! There’s no way she’d be able to resist the famous Raxus Saloon Hoedown...and she’ll likely bring him along as well..."

“You’re making a lot of assumptions here…”

“That’s where we’ll get them Howard! Tonight, in the saloon...I’ll finally have my revenge. I have waited far too long for this moment. It’s hard to believe it’s finally happening. I’ve spent many a restless night wondering when I’d see her face again, where she was, what she was doing. And I’ve spent many a restless night dreaming of how I’d finally take my vengeance upon the man who ruined me. Many say revenge is unfulfilling. That it will not truly bring the justice I desire. And it may be true. But I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. What do you think, Howard?...Howard?"


* * *
http://img24.imageshack.us/img24/2061/twoshotglassesonbar.jpg

“And so…so like this guy’s like—oh hold on,” I say, noticing the barkeep has presented me with my sixth shot. I gulp down the tiny glass and feel that sweet, sweet fiery burn work its way from my throat to my belly.

“So like this guy’s like…’ooh he’s just a midget in a duck suit’!”

“PFFFF-HAHAHAHAHA! Damn man, that’s…that’s…y’know we don’t, uh, hung ou—hang out enough, Howard,” Mantis says, finishing her fourth gin and tonic.

“Y’know what? Y’know what? You’re right. You’re RIGHT…dammit. Hehehehe!”

“Hahahahaha!”

“Woo. I’m gonna…I’m gonna go…take a piss. If the raccoon guy comes down asking for me, d-don’t tell him you saw me.”

Mr. Majestic
06-18-2010, 01:58 AM
After seeing Sabretooth and Wolverine fall from the other side of the chopper I knew it was time for me to get into action.

I look back at Beast and the others. “I’m going down there to give Sabretooth a hand.”

I then jump out of the jet and fly down towards the river. While flying pass the chopper me and a young man lock eyes for a second. I paid it no mind and continue with the mission at hand. As I’m about to dive into the water I feel a sharp pain like four rugged blades are sinking into my back. I look back and see the young man I lock eyes with on my back with his hands against it. The pain is so intense I can’t concentrate on flying I end up losing control with him still on me. We end up fly pretty far away from the others going through some building windows ending up outside on the street. I ended up landing on top of a cab.

As I rest there for a moment I can feel my body healing right away. Who ever that guy was he must have used some knifes. I slowly roll off of the cab and land on one knee beside it. I look up a head and see my unwanted hitchhiker standing there with no weapon in hand. I kind of feel bad for him, this is going to be real easy now.

“Looks like you lost your knifes, shame because you were going to need them.” I tell him and I release my claws.

He looks down at my claws and smirks. Then he balls his fist and then claws then rips its way out of his hand.
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/77/214599-138939-daken.jpg

“Ahhh ****!”

I wipe the blood from what was my busted up lip a couple of seconds ago. This guy I’m fighting is an animal, I like it. To be able to get cut, stab, and slice and continue as if it is nothing is just simply amazing. To quit or give up wouldn’t be right. If we can I’ll like to do this forever.

“I’ll admit you have got the best of me, how bout we go for round 2 runt?”

Runt? Great it appears that Sabretooth is wearing off on my more than I thought.

We both take off at each other but this time I’m going to use my powers to my advantage. While racing at one another my feet lift off the ground as I begin to fly. While soaring towards my foe I charge up a great deal of energy from my eyes and at the last second I release everything into the mutant’s chest, sending him crashing into the side of a park car. While still flying I extent my arms and fly claws first into his shoulders. As he yells in pain a unknowing sinister smile appears on my face.

I then begin to slash away at his chest just smiling as blood and flying from left to right. The more blood my eyes see the more I slash.

In a desperate attempt the unknown mutant claws me in the eyes as he see an window of opportunity. I right away place my hands over my eyes while screaming in agony waiting for them to heal.

Eddie Brock
06-18-2010, 09:29 PM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

"Working late again tonight?" Maria asks her husband as she plays with his tie. She looks at him and pouts. "Please say no."

Frank shrugs. "This is the price I pay for letting my caseload get backed up," he answers while avoiding eye contact. He knows that if he looks into her eyes, he won't be able to deny her.

HONK! HONK!

Frank looks over his shoulder at the door. "That's Jimmy. I've gotta go," he says. He gives his wife a long kiss before calling out, "Daddy's going to work! Be a good girl in school today!" He looks back at Maria and smiles before giving her another quick kiss. "See you later."

Frank walks up to the squad car parked in front of his house.

Jimmy Weeks. My partner on the force for three years. The man was like family to me.

"Hey, Frank, we gotta go! We got a case already," Jimmy explains as he throws open the door for his partner. Frank gets into the car, and Jimmy pulls away from the house, noticing Maria looking through the window. "Starting the day off with a homicide."

***

Jimmy and Frank walk around the crime scene as photos are taken of the body. Frank stops to look at all the photographs hung up in the apartment. "Tell me what you're thinking, Jimmy," Frank calls out.

Jimmy stands over the body. "Looks like attempted robbery," he begins. "Suspect enters the apartment, thinking it's empty. Our victim confronts him. The suspect is startled and...bang." There's a pool of blood on the carpet underneath the body.

Frank looks around the apartment. "I'm not so sure," he admits. "A lot of this damage seems arbitrary. It doesn't really feel like somebody was looking for something." He motions to a closed closet door. "Wouldn't you check the closet if you were looking for something?"

Jimmy shrugs. "Maybe the suspect found it before he looked there."

Frank continues to circle the room, passing the entrance as he does. "No sign of forced entry, the chain on the door was undone." His eyes finally sink down to the body. "And look at that shot. Right through the heart. You're going to tell me a common robber got startled and rattled off a clean shot like that?"

Jimmy just shrugs.

Eddie Brock
06-19-2010, 01:14 AM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg

"Welcome, one and all, to the Stark Expo 2010!

"Forty years ago today, my father - the late Howard Stark - had an idea. A simple idea, really. What if for just one year, scientists and businessmen could put aside their differences and come together for the betterment of mankind? By pooling their resources and knowledge, they could accomplish unimaginable things. Together, they could usher in the future. A future ruled by science and technology.

"And that's how the Stark Expo began. In 1970, Howard Stark was able to unite the world's best and brightest for one week. Here, in New York City. Behind closed doors, the most powerful men in the world exchanged ideas, developed theories, and ultimately changed the landscape of modern science. While we may never know what exactly was said in those backroom meetings, we have all seen the famous photograph of my father, Howard, smoking a cigar with his contemporaries.

"The next year, in 1971, Howard Stark took it a step further. He held a convention where the press and the public could witness these powerful conversations among the men who held all the strings. That set the standard for what would eventually come to be known as the Stark Expo, an event we are here to celebrate today.

"Following in my father's model of unification and cooperation through science, we have assembled today's best and brightest for the next three days. A long weekend is a far cry from the year that my father originally envisioned, but even in such a short span, I'm confident we will all be witness to the birth of the next generation of science and technology. We have put together an impressive schedule of presentations and programs during these next three days, including the keynote address - given by yours truly - and the long-awaited reveal of the fifth generation of Iron Men.

"Last but not least, as I'm sure you all know, this is the first Stark Expo following my father's untimely death. Without him, none of us would be here today. As I'm sure you can imagine, we have planned a wide variety of events to honor Howard Stark's memory, but there's one surefire way to keep Howard in our hearts and minds over the next three days:

"Have fun.

"Once again, welcome back to the Stark Expo! It should be a great one!"

sabetoonth
06-20-2010, 02:50 AM
Washington State, Late 1969.


Victor had landed some months ago, in America, the place he considered home, where he had spent most of his ear ageless adult life. Upon arrival, he crept through crates and carrier, boxes and armed guards. Shacking up somewhere in the Pacific North West, Victor lived the life he had at the beginning of the century, peaceful, and natural. Hunting his own food, cooking it, preparing it.


One day, a man came to the door of his scratch built cabin. He had hair that was just begining to grey.


“Mr. Creed?” he said in a voice that had seen much in its life. Victor nodded.


“Yes, and you are?” he held the door open, the morning light coming through the trees and the windows.


“Erik Lensher.” He held his had out to Victor. “I want to offer you a place in my organization.” Victor stepped to the side to allow Lensher in the door.


“What organization?” Victor asked as the aging mutant walked into his home.


“One in favor of equal mutant rights.” Eric answered. “You’ve been hiding your abilities haven’t you?” he continued as he walked about the small cabin.


“How do you know about that?” Victor shut the door.


“I know about your past too Victor, at least back to the First World War.” The magnetic mutant said grabbing a fork. “I too have abilities.” He opened his hand and the fork floated above it. “I also know what they call you where they don’t know your real name….Sabretooth.”

Red_Robin77
06-20-2010, 02:19 PM
The screams and cries came from underground, people looking towards the entrance of the subway in worry. They should worry. In the skies, a man in old armour flies down, lead by a hammer. This was their saviour, Thor, son of the once great Odin, and God of Thunder. He looked to the steps down to the subway, and walked down them, with a casual stroll, letting the scared mortals run past him in the opposite direction.

This was the second time in a week Thor had happened upon trouble in this City that he had to resolve. He wasn't here to solve these people's problems, he was here to prepare for the long fight ahead. Maybe if he left this wretdched city, headed away from it to a quieter place, he could prepare better.

The subway around the God was ruined, machinery smashed, glass everywhere, and barely a person in sight, except for one small group, who stood over at the ticket office, but turned around as they heard Thor enter. A group of four, dressed in balaclavas span around to see the God, one of them smirking.

"About time you showed yourself! We were getting bored!" he snarled, clutching the crowbar in his hand tighter.

The others were holding a wrecking ball, a pair of large metal fists, and the last clutching onto a metal helmet. Not the usual weapons for robbers.

"Why are you scum ruining this place?"

"To get your attention, bud. We want a bit of revenge. You were the one that nearly goddamn killed us!" said the one with the helmet in his hands.

"Then maybe, if you wish to avoid that, you should fight better."

"Oh, we do now. You see, we've had a little helping hand. Now we can smash you so hard your little pea for a brain will break," the one with the wrecking ball smiled, and the four charged at the God.

"If you so wish," mutter Thor, as he began to spin Mjolnir, faster and faster, until releasing it upon the group.

Eddie Brock
06-20-2010, 11:06 PM
Araña

The next day, I stay late after school in the library working on a paper for English class. Unfortunately, I lose track of time and end up missing the late bus. Not really that big of a problem, but it means I have to hoof it back home with the sun dropping in the sky. The hallways are virtually empty as I make one last stop at my locker.

I get goosebumps on the walk home. With the sun going down, it's gotten chilly out. I regret not grabbing my jacket from my locker. Hunching over to fight the wind, I keep my head down and keep walking. I don't walk through this part of town often, and I'm starting to get a little nervous. I only hope I can make it home before it becomes completely dark.

"Hey," a gruff voice calls out from around a street corner. I nearly jump out of my skin, fighting the urge to scream bloody murder. However, when I see the source of the voice, I realize that there's no need to be so afraid.

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/2/28018/1074527-miguel__007__01_.png

Miguel Legar. He's a classmate of mine, an upperclassman to be exact. Neither I nor anyone I know seems to know much about him. He's very mysterious. But for that reason, I've always had a healthy curiosity about him. At times, it even borders on a crush, I'll admit. Something about that mysterious bad-boy image...

"This is a bad section of town at night," Miguel continues, not acknowledging that he nearly scared me to death. "This is the property of Las Avispas, the Wasps. A young girl like you shouldn't be walking here alone." He jumps down from the stoop and approaches me. "I've seen you in school."

"I missed the bus," I explain. This is the first time Miguel has ever spoken to me.

Miguel looks at the setting sun. "It's getting dark," he remarks. He looks back at me. "Let me walk you home. You won't be safe otherwise."

I hide my smile. Miguel Legar, my crush, is offering to walk me home. I mean, sure, he's probably just doing it because what he says about the neighborhood is true, but circumstances are irrelevant. "Okay."

Byrd Man
06-21-2010, 01:03 AM
New York City District 12 Court
Grand Jury Session


"No further questions, Your Honor," the Assistant District Attorney said to the judge. Inside the witness box, the thin black man in the navy blue suit waited for the defense's cross-examination. He locked eyees with the Puetro Rican man in a bright purple suit, he greasy hair combed back into a pony tail.

"Your witness," the judge announced as she pointed to the defense attorney.

"Sergeant Cole," the lawyer began. "How long have you been in Narcotics?"

"Six years," came his reply.

"So, you know about all about the legal grounds for a search and seizure warrant?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, then you know the warrant into my client, Mister Sosa's, house was unlawful? And as such, the evidence found there should be thrown out."

"We had a lawful warrant! We found an ounce of cocaine and a .38 revolver that matched ballistics that Homicide recovered in two murders!"

"And it is inadmissible because the warrant you used to search his house was based on hearsay and fudged paper work. You cheated, Sergeant. No matter what Mister Sosa did or not do, you broke the rules to come at him."

"The evidence is our case!" Cole growled.

"Well, if that's your case, Sergeant, you don't have a case! I move that we dismiss this session without an indictment on Mister Sosa."

The judge hesitated, looking at the ADA first and then Cole.

"If the prosecution has nothing to add...I'm afraid I have to dismiss this case based on lack of admissible evidence."

Cole gave Sosa a hard stare as the drug dealer smiled at him. The judge wrapped her gavel down to signal the end of the case. Cole muttered a few words under his breath and stalked out of the witness box, walking out of the courtroom and into the hallway. Walking into the court lobby, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he'd only used once or twice before.

"Hello?" The deep voice on the other end asked.

"Is this...Mister Lucas?"

"Yes. Who am I speak to?"

"A friend. I may have something for you and your friends."

"I'm all ears."

"His name is Ernesto Sosa. He's a drug dealer and a murderer who's beaten the system."

"Thank you."

Cole turned around and saw Sosa coming out of the courtroom. The drug dealer smiled and winked at the police sergeant. Cole spun around and held the phone close to his ear.

"If you want to thank me, Mister Lucas, then do your worst."

The Question
06-21-2010, 09:13 PM
Norman Osborn held out a tape recorder, and began to dictate his notes.

"Journal entry number five. Any possible means to safely and effectively reformulate SSM-AF15 as of yet elude me. I plan to go fully back to formula in the future, but in the mean time a stop gap measure is in order. I'm looking into possible medications that could supplement the formula and curb the psychological side effects. Animal testing will begin within the next few days."

He stopped the recorder and set it down. He rose to his feet and opened the door of his office. He called down the stairs.

"Bernard. I'm going to be bringing some lab rats in cages into my work space later this week. Make the necessary preparations."

He closed the door. He was now alone in the dark. He smiled, weary but content in his tiny, brief refuge.

The Question
06-21-2010, 09:37 PM
The barn lights flickered on, casting a sickly glow not unlike that of a morgue. Victor escorted Lucia to the back corner of the barn, where a bedroll, blanket, and pillow were already laid out.

"You will be sleeping here for now. I apologize for the poor conditions, but it is safer for you to hide here than in the main house."

"I've slept in worse places," she replied as she settled into her sleeping space.

Victor walked back to the entrance to the barn.

"You should get some sleep. I will be back in the morning with your breakfast. Then, we will talk about what we are going to do next. Good night."

Victor turned off the lights and closed the door behind him. He walked up to the main house. When he got in through the front door, he found Valeria sitting in the living room, looking quite annoyed.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Out," he said. "For a walk.

"On your motorcycle?"

"What?"

"I heard your motorcycle."

"Drive. Out for a drive. I apologize, I am tired."

"What were you doing in the barn?"

"I had to put a few tools away."

Valeria's eyes scanned victor. After a few moments in very noticeable silence, Victor shuffled towards the staircase.

"I am going to bed," he said. "Good night."

"Good night," Valeria responded.

Victor moved up the stairs quickly and quietly. Valeria sat in the armchair a few minutes longer, shaking around pieces to a puzzle in her mind.

Her eyes drifted out the window towards the barn.

J'adore
06-22-2010, 12:30 PM
http://i43.tinypic.com/35lg4d0.png

Various high energy heated rays of plasma were firing out from the test tube, shooting various AIM agents, pasteurizing them instantly. The mist was disappearing, the red eyes becoming more clear. Stepping out of the mist, was a newly reformed Karima Shapandar, her body half robotic. Her hand quickly shifted into a large gun, plasma bolts evolving out of it.

http://i46.tinypic.com/2sbvhgo.png

"Prepare to face the wrath of OMEGA,"

The gun was aimed directly at Rita DeMara AKA Wasp.

"I created you!" Wasp flicked her wrist, a bio-electric energy blast shot out from her finger tips, engulfing Omega and sending her flying back into the test tube. Wasp bent down, sliding on her gloves. She quickly touched her chest, inhaling the air around her. Within a flash of bright yellow, Wasp and had shrunken down to the size of an average human's pinkie finger. Her wings began to flutter, and she hovered into the air.

The AIM agents continuously fired at the test tube, but a force field surrounded it, sending the electrical blasts back into the chests of the agents. Jocasta and The Widow Maker were now seemingly de-activated.

"No one shall escape death,"

Nimibro
06-22-2010, 03:54 PM
http://img39.imageshack.us/img39/6606/docockbanner.png (http://img39.imageshack.us/i/docockbanner.png/)


i pass right by Mary. we smile at each other, and go each his own directions "She's so beautiful. That night was so special… for me. She was so… charming, at the little coffee house.". She walks towards him and holds my hand, as they go through the corridor."Mary Alice, I wanted to ask you for a long time something". "yes Otto" "will you go with me to a date, maybe in Friday?" "Sure, I'd love to! There's this new movie I really want to see"… "So, can you pick me up? I have no car", i say as she blush.
"Sure! So, meet you Friday night!"As i walks in the corridor, i open a door and looks up.

i see 4 big, horn-shaped pillars, with tubed, leds and wires soming out of them. in the center, there's a big, mechanical tower-like structure, which is a tall as my legs. there's a big, yellow metallic ball, glowing with electric bolts covering it, and a big tube, half-visible, inside of the ball. "soon, my work, you will be finished. we would all have energy, and i'll prove to mary-alice how much i love her-". i am is cut short as a tall, bald scientist scientist enter the room. "hello otto, how are you?", he says. "i'm just fine, doctor weisman". "great then. i need you to do a demonstration by thursday. it's important. its our funders"

"OUR FUNDERS?!?! why haven't you told me earlier? how are we going to do this thing? who told them they can come by thursday?!?!" "uhm... i did" "why did you?!?! we are dead, weisman, WE ARE DEAD!" "We can just haste it a litle bit, do everything quick. i brang some company handy-men" "they won't understand the nature of the sitouation! they'll never do!" "okay, okay, i'm so sorry, dr. octavius...". weisman goes quickly, nodding and jabbering to himself, as i sit, put my glasses down and ponders the sitouation. "what am i going to do?"


i takes my glasses and walk swiftly, slightly twitching when i do, to the experiment itself. as i puts his harness on, there's a small glare in my eye, like i have been expecting this for a ling, long time. finally, my father may be proud of me. "let the magic BEGIN!".

Eddie Brock
06-22-2010, 07:38 PM
Araña

"Alright, Mark, I'm heading out," Fiona announces to her colleague. "Are you sticking around here?"

Mark Brooks looks up from his work, barely aware of what Fiona had said. "What? Oh, uh, yeah," he answers tentatively. "Yeah, I'm gonna stay late." Fiona nods and gives a wave, but Mark hardly notices. He listens for the door to close before getting up from his desk. Being alone now, Mark makes his way to the lab.

As he walks to the lab, Mark thinks about how he got himself into this situation. For the first few months at OsCorp, everything was going great. Mark loved his work, Fiona was an excellent partner, and they were making great strides. Then, he was approached by one of Dr. Warren's personal assistants. That's when his new responsibility was explained to him.

Mark swipes his OsCorp ID badge to get into the lab. He marches to the end of the room, where the refrigerated container was located. Opening it, Mark carefully extracts a single vial of fluid. The vial is marked PPSM-AF15. It is a derivative of the SSM-AF15 formula. Mark and Fiona had been tasked to work on it. Mark tucks the formula away in a specialized cooler and closes the refrigerated container.

***

This was his fourth time running this particular errand, and Mark was just as uncomfortable as the first time he did it. The instructions were simple. Take the vials, leave them at the drop point, walk away. When Mark tried to ask what would happen with the vials, he was immediately shot down. Whatever was going on here, he wasn't supposed to know much about it.

It was getting dark now. That made the job even worse. Mark makes his way in through the back door of the warehouse. He walks to the center of the room when there's a noise from one of the far corners. Mark freezes, his heart leaping up into his throat. He's not alone in the warehouse tonight.

"Who's there?"

Mark stays frozen, even though he knows he's in the middle of the open. A tattooed gunman turns the corner, taking aim at Mark. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" The man barked. When Mark didn't respond, the gunman continued, "Listen to me, man. This warehouse belongs to the Wasps now! Get the f*** out!"

More than happy to oblige, Mark stumbles backwards.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" the man calls out. He points his gun at the cooler. "What's in there?"

"N-nothing," Mark stammers.

"Open it up. Let me see," the man orders.

Barely hearing the man over the sound of his own beating heart, Mark slowly places the cooler on the ground. Opening it, he reaches inside and takes hold of the vial of PPSM-AF15 carefully. There's a crash behind the gunman, and Mark - acting on instinct - takes off running.

"GET BACK HERE!"

Mark races off onto the street, still carrying the vial. He didn't even know if the gunman was following him. He just wasn't going to take any chances. Bursting out onto a busy sidewalk, Mark narrowly avoids a few collisions while keeping the vial pressed against his chest.

If he lived to see tomorrow, he would resign from OsCorp. Nothing was worth this.

Mark becomes aware of the vial in his hand and realizes that he has to get rid of it somehow. Spotting a girl with an open backpack, Mark bumps into her at full sprint and drops the vial into her bag. "Sorry," he mutters before continuing on, completely unaware that he had lost the gunman a block ago.

***

"Hey, watch where you're going!" I shout at the man who nearly bulldozed me. I swear, people sometimes...

Carnage27
06-22-2010, 09:17 PM
http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Carnage27/doctorstrangebw.png?t=1277254097

The boxcar jostles as it speeds down the track out of Russia and into China, waking me from the light nap I was attempting to take. Of course, it also doesn't help that I'm lying it what most likely used to carry cattle. Or pigs. The smell almost knocks me out...which I guess I wouldn't mind at this point.

My name is Stephen, Stephen Strange, and I've been traveling the world for the past seven years of my life. Well, traveling probably wouldn't be the best word to describe it. Traveling implies comfort, leisure, and good food, not stealing scraps, sleeping on the street, and running from the cops. I'd call it more...tramping across the world. Yea, that's more like it.

But it hasn't just been a hobo holiday. I've been searching out the masters of mysticism and magic throughout the world, and have been learning all I can from them as I go. Ever since I was a kid, I've been visited by voices and spirits from the netherworld, and they all tell me the same thing: I'm destined to be Earth's greatest sorcerer, and will protect it from all manners of threats. But one is stronger and more powerful than the others. A Chinese man who doesn't speak in prophecies, but in directions...

I'll be Earth's greatest sorcerer if I survive to finish my training, that is. Throughout my travels, I've been attacked and assaulted by what my teachers have called "dark creatures". Whether they are ghouls, demons, or possessed men, they are set on my destruction. Something I'm not to fond of.

After a few more hours of half sleep-half torture, the train comes to a halt, and I ready myself to escape from the area. But before I can ready myself to teleport, I hear voices from one side of the box car. I rush out the other as the voices open the door and instinctively fire at me with automatic rifles. I throw up a shield to deflect them away and rush out of the train yard, and into the city proper.

My aggressors follow suit, and I mutter a spell, and teleport to a nearby rooftop, and to my horror, three of the men do the same. But I can already tell they're not men. At least not normal men. They fire the last few rounds from their guns as I leap to another rooftop, the bullets ricocheting off into the night sky.

But of course, that can't be the end of this.

Bolts of mystical energy stream from their hands, which I attempt to deflect back at them. Two of them are struck in the chest and head respectively, sending them sprawling to the ground. But the third springs with inhuman speed towards me.

I attempt a judo throw to counter his attack, but he's just too fast. He grabs my shoulders and tosses me against the roof of the building, knocking the air out of me instantly. I look into his eyes, which seem to burn like a fire. I regain my breathing and ask, "What are you?"

"I am but a test, Strange. One to determine whether you are truly worthy of the master's worry," the man responds with a demonic tone, obviously possessed by some sort of demon. "Obviously, you're not. Prepare to enter the other side."

After he finishes, he begins a chant and his hands start to glow. My mind can only go back to the choices I've made, and hoping to high heaven those voices that have counted on my to protect Earth won't be too pissed when I cross over.

I close my eyes, and prepare for my last breath, when suddenly I'm transported from the rooftop. I open my eyes and find myself lying on my back on a wooden floor, with the warmth of a fire baking my dirt-encrusted skin.

Standing, I take stock of my surroundings. I seem to be in an expansive library of some unknown mansion. The home seems to be sprawling from the hallway I can see through the study's open door. Looking outside from a nearby window, a blinding snow storm blocks my view from discerning my location.

"Ah...I see you have awakened," a voice from above me calls. A voice I know I've heard before, many, many times. I look up to find a man standing on a parapet overlooking the lower part of the library, and I almost cannot believe my eyes. "I have been waiting a long time to meet you, Stephen Strange."

http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q50/neosoullife/129492-ancient-one_400.jpg

"You may call me the Ancient One."

Eddie Brock
06-22-2010, 09:36 PM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

I walk into the precinct with a noticeable swagger in my step. Very few things in this world make me happier than getting to say, "I told you so." Jimmy is already at his desk, enjoying a cup of coffee and a doughnut while reading the Sports section of The Chicago Tribune. Feet up on his desk, he looks up at me and says, "Hey, Frank."

"I was right," I say simply as I sit down at my desk.

Jimmy looks at me curiously. "About what?"

"That homicide," I reply. "The one that we wrote off as a botched burglary attempt?" Jimmy nods to indicate he knows what I'm talking about. "That one really just left a bad taste in my mouth, so I decided to look into it further," I explain.

As I open the case file, now loaded with information I've compiled through my own investigation, Jimmy puts down the Tribune and leans forward.

"Our victim, Gerry Conway," I begin, breezing past the crime scene photos, "was no saint. I asked around, talked to his friends, and they say that Gerry had some demons." I glance up at Jimmy. He's listening intently. "Chief among these was his gambling problem."

"Hmm."

Nodding, I continue, "Turns out he liked to frequent this place--" I hand Jimmy a photo of the bar in question. "So I started digging, looking at the owner - Ross Andru - and he popped up with a prior." I push a paper across the desk and point to a highlighted portion. "Aggravated assault."

Jimmy lets out a whistle. "Someone was a bad, bad boy."

I smirk. Here comes the best part. "Guess who showed up on Andru's list of known associates?" Jimmy just stares at me. "Billy 'The Beaut' Russo." I lean back in my chair and let that sink in.

Wide-eyed, Jimmy asks, "So you think this was a mob hit?" He starts to piece it all together. "Andru works as Russo's bookie. Conway makes a few bad bets. He can't pay Andru back..."

"Bingo."

"I don't know, Frank," Jimmy says tentatively. "Messing with the mob is risky business - especially when Russo's involved. Compared to some of the other things he's 'allegedly' done, this is small time. It might be a mistake to push too hard on this..."

"Jimmy, we get the evidence to back us up, and we've got Russo cold on 'conspiracy to commit murder.'"

At the time, I really did believe that Jimmy was just afraid to go after the mob. I could have never known the truth. Jimmy was my partner for three years. I thought I knew everything about him.

We all have our secrets.

Eddie Brock
06-22-2010, 11:28 PM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg

I'm backstage, reviewing my speech notes as Pepper adjusts my tie. "I hate this," I remind her for the umpteenth time. All I've wanted to do since my father died is to stop the production of the Iron Men, and now I'm going to be presenting them. "How am I supposed to make anyone believe that I buy into any of this?"

"Just smile and tell them what they want to hear," Pepper suggests. She puts the finishing touches on her Windsor knot before checking my pocket square. Looking up at me, she remarks coyly, "You know, you almost look presentable."

"Yeah, you look good, boss," Happy chimes in.

I barely acknowledge either of them because I can see Obadiah approaching. "Tony, look at you!" he laughs. "The spitting image of your father." He brushes some dust from my shoulder and gives my suit the once over. "Very impressive Windsor, Ms. Potts."

"How do you know she tied it?"

Smiling, Obadiah reaches into his coat pocket. "Listen, I came up with a few points you may want to refer to..."

I hold up my own notes. "I've got it covered, Obie."

"Ah, but I've prepared a little surprise for you," Obadiah says with a twinkle in his eye. I've got a bad feeling about this. Handing me his cards, Obadiah instructs, "When you get done introducing the Iron Men, read what I've written there. And no peeking! I want to see a genuine reaction."

***

The crowd roars and applauds as I approach the podium. I smile, wave, and pose for the cameras. As I clear my throat, I take out my notes - along with Obadiah's - and set them down on the podium. The stage lights dim until there's nothing left but a spotlight on me. I wait for the crowd to get quiet before beginning.

"When my father introduced the first line of Iron Men, there was no way anyone could have predicted how invaluable they would be," I start calmly. On the screen behind me, black-and-white images of my father and the very first Iron Men are projected. "Historians would later agree that without the Iron Men, America may not have won the Vietnam War. As with all great inventions, the Iron Men forever changed the course of history and certainly the art of warfare."

A collage of images is showing now, demonstrating every incarnation of the Iron Men.

"For four groundbreaking generations, Stark Industries has taken my father's idea and improved upon it," I continue. "With each line of Iron Men, the technology became a little more sophisticated. The weapons became a little more advanced. For the better part of four decades, the Iron Men have been the definition of 'cutting edge' in warfare."

I smile broadly. "And now, it's time once again for Stark Industries to raise the bar." The crowd cheers excitedly. "We have resurrected the Iron Men project and renewed our military contracts. Our engineers have worked around the clock, breaking the Iron Men down to their most basic components and trying to subtly improve each one."

I glance down at the notecards, at Obadiah's words. It pains me to say them.

"And I'm proud to say their hard part has paid off," I lie with a smile. The spotlight dims, and the stage behind me starts to get brighter. "I present to you the long-awaited fifth generation of Iron Men! Ladies and gentlemen, the Peacemakers!"

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/6/61766/1159271-ultimate_avengers_005_pg_05.jpg

The crowd goes wild as five Iron Men units rise up from beneath the stage. I stare at them contemptuously. So simplistic, so barbaric. These things make no attempts to be anything about than glorified war machines. They lack the sophistication of the real Iron Man. None of this is visible on my face as I turn back around to the crowd, however. "Yeah! How about that?"

I pick up Obadiah's notes, glancing out of the corner of my eye to see him watching from the wings. I begin to read them slowly, "But you've been patient, and I think it's time you were all rewarded for that." Where are you going with this, Obadiah? "When the fourth generation of Iron Men - the Harbingers - were outfitted with repulsor beam technology, they were revolutionary. And ever since then, we have been searching for ways to take the Iron Men to the next level."

The crowd is buzzing now. Little do they know that even I don't know what's coming. Obadiah, what have you done now?

"My father designed the Iron Men as a way to get soldiers off the front lines," I announce, still following Obadiah's script. "But it's become clear that humans will always be an important part of warfare. No machine can account for a soldier's sense of judgment or reasoning capability. So, for the first time, Stark Industries is putting the 'man' back in 'Iron Man.'"

Oh no.

"Work has already begun on the sixth generation of Iron Men, which will be the first line of Iron Men suits to be fully pilotable."

Oh no.

"In fact, in the spirit of the Stark Expo, our Iron Men team has worked overtime to prepare a prototype for this new generation. Ladies and gentlemen, it's not every day you get to see the future. I present to you, the Patriot!"

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/2/27967/684450-iron_patriot.jpg

Oh no.

Nimibro
06-23-2010, 03:23 AM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg


http://img39.imageshack.us/img39/6606/docockbanner.png (http://img39.imageshack.us/i/docockbanner.png/)

I walk to the stage, a few meters from unveiling the most precious gift I have ever created, to these people, like god who gave fire to the Neanderthals. I get to the stage, and put my big, cloudy, murky glasses down. "Hello, my dear men ad women, my beloved listeners. I would like to present to you tonight something… spectacular. Something rather amazing. No longer will people, who had the tragedy of losing a limb, to be ashamed or live with that pain. No longer would researches, who work with the more dangerous, corrosive, radioactive or combustible have to fear for their safety, may their help for our race attack them, because of my invention. No longer the US army would have to worry about soldiers getting into the more dangerous war-zones, and have them die one by one because the enemy is out of their physical jurisdiction, BECAUSE OF MY INVENTION. I present you- THE PROTOTYPE OCTO APPENDAGES!" as from my back, like the arms of an octopus, rise 4 metallic tentacles, all with small, probing fingers and red lights shining in the end and between each particle."They are the most effective tool for working with hazardous environments and materials", I say as pull an arm and stretch her. "You see? That is a 3.5 meter length! Enough to keep any worker or researcher safe and away from the danger and harm".

I take one hand and put it in my sleeve, then behind my back. "Need a hand? Sadly lost one of your own? Think-if you had four more" I say as I stretch all four of them, and put my hand back in front of the crowd and outside of the sleeve, an arm bringing a bottle of water to my lips. "and of course, think of a squad of 13 of our finest soldiers, walking in the ravaged floor of Iraq, with four arms, also easy to weaponize, saving the survivors by simply freeing them with these 4 appendages, or dealing with the terrorist, as if one soldier without the arms is equal for one terrorist, one with the arms-would be equal to 5! He can sure take on one, while the arms take on the other 4! Truly a remarkable sight and I could be made possible. THIS IS THE FUTURE!"
"but, the reason I am here tonight", I say after I take the bottle and drink the other half of it, the sweat going down my face, "is to present to you, a reliable power source, one achievable by only cold fusion. Think of this, as an energy source, taking a long time to last and one that can be made for forever, using only atoms to produce. I believe", I say before drinking any last drops of water left in the bottle, "that cold fusion, and nuclear power, could not just be used for violence, but for a better use, rarely exploited by us, the human race. Free energy. We have the tools, we have the money, and we have the power to make this optimistic, yet realistic dream become reality!"

As the people clap, I stand there, and suddenly, I hear only silence, and the clinking of a glass bottle. And I remember my father, sitting and rambling on his dirty couch. "My son. Come to me", he says, while hitting the bottle against the couch. But this time, I'm not a little boy, but an adult. "c'mere. Still weak like a slug, eh? 'Ow you t'ink y'er goin' to make this country a safer, better place, eh? With all the witty science bulls*t of yours?" I stand in silence, alone, in front of my biggest admiration, yet my biggest fear. "I have a gift to this world. I just revolutionized the American modern warfare. Aren't you proud of me?" "I'll be proud of you when you'll STOP BEING SUCH A SLUGGISH WEAK WORM!" my father says, slamming the bottle of beer on my face, as I realize I was daydreaming, in the end of it, standing on the top of the mountain, giving a speech in the most glorious and prestigious of scientific events in the entire history of the world, yet realizing my father, Torbert Octavius, would never appreciate me, no matter how hard will I try.

bkhedr
06-23-2010, 06:07 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg



The man called Victor Shade waited until Captain America had disappeared into the crowd before collecting the small package left on the bench and stuffing it in his pocket. He then rose and casually walked off in the opposite direction.

It is not long before he arrives at an abandoned warehouse near the waterfront. By the look of it, this warehouse has not been disturbed in decades, the heavily rusted lock and chain coiled around the main entrance testify to its abandonment and betray no hint of the fact that the threshold of the warehouse has been crossed several times in the past few days.

And how could they when the comings and goings are those of one who drifts ghostlike through the aged steel and glass as Victor Shade does now, disturbing nothing, and leaving no trace of his entry.

Inside the warehouse is dusty, unkempt, and barren. What little light filters through the cracks in the wall and the dusty windows, does little to lessen the gloom, but Victor Shade seems hardly to notice as he leaves his feet and floats upwards, passing through another wall and into a small second floor office. Here at least, in the space that has been passing as his home and headquarters.

Only once he is back in his sanctuary does Victor Shade deactivate his artificial image inducer, dropping his disguise and reverting back to his colorful android appearance.

The Vision retrieves the package given to him by Captain America and deposits the communicator on the metal table on the far side of the office.

As he does so he cannot help but wonder as to the Captain’s motivation for helping him and just how much the help might end up costing him, but having already accepted it, and having no reason to distrust the Captain, he dismisses his doubts and turns his attention to the fruit of his dealings with the Captain. The hard drive and the data on it that he hopes will give him some lead, some clue, about Ultron’s whereabouts, if for no other reason than to prevent Karpov or the Widowmaker from finding him first.

Settling into an old steel chair the Vision makes a fist around the hard drive and begins analyzing the information it carries. As he does so, he reaches out with his free hand and turns on an old radio, already tuned to a local jazz station. The sound of upbeat jazz fills the small room as the Vision sits blank faced and continues his analysis. A subtle tap of his foot in tune with the beat serving as the only indication that he is even aware of the music.

http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


New York

Near the back of one of the city's countless jazz bars sits the man called Victor Shade. A single bottle of beer, seemingly forgotten about, sits on the table in front of him, while he taps his foot in time with the beat of the on stage's band's bass line.

The waitress, Sally, approaches him and smiles.

"Still nursing that one Vic?"

"Oh?" he says looking up at her then down at the bottle before smiling back "I am sorry Sally. I guess I was lost in the music. I am fine thank you."

"You just let me know if you need anything ok?" Sally replies before making her way to another table.

Victor's eyes follow her for a moment but then he turns his attention back to the band on stage.

Shade has been coming to this bar, the Red Rooster, nearly every night for past two weeks. Watching the people, listening to the music, but generally keeping to himself. For though he appears to be enthralled by the music and the musc alone, the truth is that no less than one third of his processing power has been wholly devoted to the search for the Ultron intelligence, or to be more precise, for a mysterious man known only as the Red Ghost. A man who, according to the information provided by Captain America, may well be able to lead him to that which he seeks.

But the trail is cold, the Red Ghost a hard man to find. And with the WidowMaker, Karpov, and now HAMMER actively searching for him and Ultron, Shade is well aware of the need to cover his tracks, to not reveal anything to anyone sifting through the data stream. It is an arduos task, but Shade is nothing if not patient, and with a newly discovered love of the intricacies and subtelties of Jazz music to tide him over, he is prepared to bid his time.

The band, a local act calling themselves Cool Train, finish a finish to the sound of scattered cheering and Victor claps politely from his seat before the band starts its next song.

At the bar, Sally pours herself a fountain Cola and leans against the counter sipping it from a straw and dreamily eyeing Victor.

*****

Elsewhere/Elsewhen:

Fires burn here. Fires fueled by human flesh and hair and skin. Screams and the sounds of crunching bone and tearing ligaments are the only sounds that accompany the licking of the flames.

At least those are the only other sounds that Simon Williams has heard since he arrived here. He can not remember how long he has been here but it feels like eternity. He can not move, can not speak and nothing seems real but the pain.

He is dimly aware, as if through a fog, that his brother, Eric is here too, right beside him, so close that it feels like they could reach other, escape together, but whenever he tries to reach his brother all he feels is a hate that saps his spirit, drains his will, such as it is, and he surrenders himself to the flames once more.

Now suddenly there is a new sound in this hellish place, a laughing, a hideous, terrifying cackle of laugh that makes Simon pray for oblivion.

But oblivion does not come this day. Instead the laughing grows louder until it is as if it is directly on top of him and then he hears words spoken as if through a flame.

"Now is the time mortals. I paid much for your souls and now I will have the return on my investment. Come Simon and Eric Williams. Come forth and be remade."

And though the spoken words themselves indicate no malice, Simon can feel himself shudder and shake in terror of what is to come and as he blacks out he thinks he can just barely make out a face, a fearsome visage, emerging from the wall of flames.

http://photos.ifmagazine.com/graphics/features_movie/mephisto.jpg

bkhedr
06-23-2010, 06:46 AM
NOW

Quickly and stealthily, the Sons of Sam snaked through the underground tunnels of the Pentagon, closing in on their target. This many floors below, security was more lax than above; it was always extremely unlikely that the virtual fortress could be infiltrated from below.

Still, even with the majority of the MPs and other armed personnel above, protecting the Secretary of Defense, the lower reaches of the Pentagon were not without guardian angels.

As the squad of masked terrorists rounded a corner, one lagged behind. The air seemed to shimmer behind him for a moment, then his head twisted hard to one side, snapping the man's spinal cord.

Two more swept down a nearby corridor, passing by an office with the door cracked open just slightly. There was a quick succession of pffffut--pffffut whispers, and the two gunman fell dead to the floor, bullet holes drilled neatly through their skulls.

The squad's point man approached the staircase that would take them to the next floor, preparing a breach-and-clear maneuver to neutralize anyone on the other side.

As he did, however, the door exploded inward on him, the fiery blast and lethal shrapnel cooking his flesh and shredding him to pieces....the door having already been prepared to blow from the other side.

The squad of terrorists stopped dead in their tracks, getting behind cover to acquire a firing solution on any incoming enemies that would step through the door. Before the smoke could clear, though, they found they were not alone.

Deactivating their active camouflage, a squad of heavily-armed and armored operatives revealed themselves, a soldier for each of the Sons, pistols and assault rifles trained on their newly-captured enemies at point-blank range.

Stepping through the ruined door, an old man with one eye approached the Sons of Sam, drawing a pistol from its holster and aiming it at the squad leader.

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/jaynemodel2.jpg

"This is as far as you go."

http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg


For a moment all is still as the Sons of Sam keep their eyes on the Agents around them while their leader takes stock of the situation and looks the one man eyed man over with obvious disdain.

"I don't know who you are warrior." he hisses "and that makes you either remarkably unimportant or incredibly important. Either way, you will not stop me."

The Shield agents suddenly find themselves being struck by an unseen force that knocks several of them and slams several more into the passage walls.

Even Fury is tossed backwards, dazed, and feeling like he had just run into a brick wall, but he gathers his wits and raises his weapon just in time to watch the terrorist leader fade into invisibility.

"Kill them." he instructs his men as he disappears and his men oblige by grabbing up their weapons and firing away.

Watchman
06-23-2010, 12:41 PM
The Skull peered over the balcony. The city busy with life. He grasps the two remotes in his hands and turns his back. He walks calmly back indoors, crosses his arms, and presses the buttons. Explosions rip through a series of skyscrapers raining fire on the streets below. He smiled. It was good to be the king.
*******
Earlier,

"What the hell is happening out there? Damn it people! I want answers!" A series of disturbing and odd events have quickly increased over the night. The phones have been nonstop that were at first been taken as jokes where taken more and more seriously once they started attacking more "important" people. The mayor was not a happy person. It was hell on Earth out there. And it was all top of at what happened at the Statue of Liberty.

"No leads, Captain, nothing at all."

"What do you mean no leads? We have a man in white who carves up their victim's faces and can walk through walls. A team of midgets wearing gas masks and Nazi uniforms using mustard gas on an apartment complex, a man who tore a movie star's car in half. Random acts of violence with super powers and your telling me have nothing!?"

"We have everyone combing the area. Looking for any leads we can find but these monsters have just disappeared into thin air. Homes have just vanished. Not burned down but actually vanished. Someone was turned into a pile of ash last night. I saw it with my two eyes."

"The superpowers, I bet HAMMER is on that case but the mayor is throwing a ****storm and you know why?" The captain turned on the television. The Statue of Liberty's face had a swastika painted on it.
*****
"I'm talking to him." Two A.I.M scientists proceed up to the floors of the Red Skull's "office". This office building now houses over a thousand A.I.M terrorist who work nonstop on new nightmares. The other scientist places his hand on his shoulder.

"I do not think that is a good idea, Nicholas. The man is unstable."

"And that is the reason. I formed this group to be able to work on the fringe sciences. We were going to usher the world into a Science Age. Year Zero was suppose to our's and he took it. He changed it, perverted it. We make his nightmare toys for his use."

"He has the money that lets us continue our projects. Once we finish the Cube we can show the world what it is capable of."

"No, I can not take part in his projects for much more." The elevator dings. The two step out and Nicholas head explodes. Sitting at his desk is the Red Skull. Comics and bomb parts surround him and his desk. An machine guns lays across his desk. Sin stands on top of a couch holding a giant magnum.

"Unstable? Am I? You the not dead one, what is your name?"

"George, sir?" He looks at Sin still holding the gun.

"Careful, she bites."

"Roff, roff."

"Well, George do you agree with your partner? Am I unstable?"

"No, sir."

"Isn't this face the shining example of sanity?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir...no, sir. You're not in the army. Now show me this cube that you've been working on."

Andy C.
06-23-2010, 02:53 PM
FURY


For a moment all is still as the Sons of Sam keep their eyes on the Agents around them while their leader takes stock of the situation and looks the one man eyed man over with obvious disdain.

"I don't know who you are warrior." he hisses "and that makes you either remarkably unimportant or incredibly important. Either way, you will not stop me."

The Shield agents suddenly find themselves being struck by an unseen force that knocks several of them and slams several more into the passage walls.

Even Fury is tossed backwards, dazed, and feeling like he had just run into a brick wall, but he gathers his wits and raises his weapon just in time to watch the terrorist leader fade into invisibility.

"Kill them." he instructs his men as he disappears and his men oblige by grabbing up their weapons and firing away.

At such close range, the enemy using such high-powered weapons, even the most cutting-edge body armor on Earth would not do much good. Fury and his men only had a few precious split-seconds before their enemies would zero in and kill them all, barely an instant in which they would have to either run or fight.

Agents of SHIELD were not the kind to run.

Springing to their feet amidst a lethal hail of fire, the operatives charged at the Sons of Sam, relying on close-quarters to negate the advantage of ranged gunfire. In such a compromised position, it was impossible to counterattack without sustaining casualties; two agents were dead before they could even get to their feet. Still, they fought, their advanced combat training as instinctual as breathing or blinking.

The second the Sons of Sam were within arms reach, they no longer stood a chance.

There were Army Rangers and Navy SEALs.

There was Delta Force.

There was British SAS.

There was Israeli Mossad.

There was Russian Spetsnaz...

....and then, there was SHIELD. The elite of the elite of the elite.

And leading the charge, there was Fury. Pistol in one hand and combat knife in the other, the old man's stoic expression did not even waver as he went about his grim work.

The Director raised his pistol as he advanced and fired three shots, dropping three of the terrorists in his first salvo. Closing in on a fourth, he ducked under a wide swing of a rifle-butt, and brought his knife up in an upwards hooking arc, opening the man's throat with one swift motion. Using the dying man's body as a shield, Fury drew a bead on two others, bullets thumping into his victim's corpse, then took both of his targets down with a single shot each.

Fury then cast his now-dead human shield aside and snaked his way through the battle, approaching each of the Sons of Sam still grappling with a SHIELD agent and neutralizing them. Opened throats, broken spines, severed arteries--the old man still remembered all the old steps so well.

By the time the skirmish had ended, SHIELD had sustained four casualties--two dead, the other two severely wounded.

There were no survivors among the Sons of Sam.

None except for their leader, the Director noted.

"Everyone who's still fit to fight, get to the Secretary, now," he ordered his agents. "We still have one hostile left inside the Pentagon. And I want to flush him out myself."

Mr. Majestic
06-24-2010, 12:21 AM
I try to look ahead so I can keep my eyes on my enemy but my vision is just red. Blood is still in my eyes, they still need time to heal. No matter his wounds are still healing as well the only thing is his didn’t affect his vision.

I use my right hand to get what blood I can out of my eye. He is going to attack any second so to be ready I’m going to use the other power I obtain.

As I’m about to use my new ability I feel a hand land on my shoulder.

“It’s alright Calvin it is I Beast.”

Good thing he said something as he rested his hand on me I was about to attack.

“Thank god it’s you Hank. Why have you come here?”

"Logan defeated Sabretooth.”

“I see, so does this mean we can stop fighting?”

"It's up to Logan and his new set of friends, we must wait to see how they want to handle this.”

TrueMastermind
06-24-2010, 07:35 PM
I try to look ahead so I can keep my eyes on my enemy but my vision is just red. Blood is still in my eyes, they still need time to heal. No matter his wounds are still healing as well the only thing is his didn’t affect his vision.

I use my right hand to get what blood I can out of my eye. He is going to attack any second so to be ready I’m going to use the other power I obtain.

As I’m about to use my new ability I feel a hand land on my shoulder.

“It’s alright Calvin it is I Beast.”

Good thing he said something as he rested his hand on me I was about to attack.

“Thank god it’s you Hank. Why have you come here?”

"Logan defeated Sabretooth.”

“I see, so does this mean we can stop fighting?”

"It's up to Logan and his new set of friends, we must wait to see how they want to handle this.”

Daken was hungry. Hungry for blood. As always. But this time, his neverending call for a fight wouldn't be answered.

Distracted by a speeding figure in the sky, Daken fails to notice the new arrivals. Squinting hard to try to uncover the identity of this aerial traveler, he is suprised when the flyer scoops him up from the ground.

"What the hell Cassidy! I was about to finish him!"

Looking down at two more familiar figures running towards the woods, Banshee dodges a harmful headbutt by his rebelling teammate.

"We have to get out of here; those guys were with the government. And try to hit me one more time and you'll soon be tumbling your way to more than a few broken bones."

Taking a big dive to disappear from any unwanted onlookers into the trees, Sean and Daken join their fellow Reavers.

***
(Switchin to first person)
Helicopters. I can hear the sound of the rapid spinning of the blades. Must be backup for Weapon X. Not good news.

What have I done? I brought these people into my wretched life, endangering them in the process. Only pain and struggle occurs around me, and sooner or later, it'll strike the Reavers as well. And it's too late to get out. Haller will figure out my association with the team and will no doubt harm them to get to me. What have I done?

Running like this reminds me of my previous life, the life as a highly desired murderer. But this time I'm being pursued for jumping out of a window. Fantastic. The things the military get caught up in these days. And what man in his right mind would choose a rouge such as Victor to lead a squad meant to do good?I can only feel bad for the ones who have to act under his leadership.

Distracted by my streaming thoughts, I fail to realize the sound of the chopper blades is long gone. They've given up. At least there's a little good in all of this crazy.

TrueMastermind
06-24-2010, 10:58 PM
"You're right about your suspicions Mark; Roxxon is dabbling into some very dangerous areas, it's just a matter of time before they get caught."

This was just information Mark already knew, but it felt good to know he was right. Sitting across from his former co-worker, Richard Geiser, he poured another sip of champagne into his pale, scheming lips at his luxorious penthouse. Acting as if this meeting was an oppurtunity to relish on old times, Mark had called Richard over for steak & shrimp. But Mark knew that Geiser was a loudmouth; certainly one not to hold secrets from a friend. That's why he selected him in the first place.

"As I suspected. From what has reached my ears, I've heard that they even contacted some high profile killers to do their dirty work."

Not even flinching at Scott's findings, Geiser nodded.

"But that's not all. Not only they're hiring them, they are supplying them!"

Mimicing Geiser's movements, Scott doesn't even blink at his "friend's" statement. In his spare time, which was few, Scott found himself hacking the company's system, giving him info that the man in front of him was repeating.

"With what?"

"Weapons, gadgets, everything! From what I've heard, they have a lab underground where they make the things! It's crazy!"

Now this was music to his ears. Scott hadn't found any information about a lab where they craft weapons in the Roxxon headquaters proximity. Of course, it could all be just a rumor, but it intrigued him netherless. All desire to stay at Roxxon had diminished; he instead was going to expose them for the dirty organization it was. And he was going to enjoy it...

"So how's your wife Rick..."

J'adore
06-26-2010, 08:06 AM
Whitney Frost

Victoria Hand, the assistant to Whitney Frost. She had been employed just two weeks ago, very little known about her history. But what is known, is the fact that she has high knowledge in weaponry-use, very skilled in all types of combat and she has various strengths in espionage. Since knowing of Whitney's Mafia connections, Victoria was also given the job to keep the 'Maggia Family' in place.

"Madame Frost, there was a call from Mr Hogan, over at Stark Industries. You have been invited to the new Stark Expo 2010," Victoria spoke, whilst cautiously entering the room, with stacks of paper balanced on her arms.

"Sorry Christine, I'll call you back..." Whitney put down her BlackBerry and glasses on her desk. She had gotten off the phone from Christine Everhart, her laughing expression soon changing to a perplexed look.

"And Patsy Walker wants to arrange a day where she can have a 'chat' with you. You know, the Models Inc CEO, she says you two are childhood frie--"

Whitney waves her hand, signaling for Victoria to stop. Victoria tightens her mouth shut. "Of course, how could I forget my dearest friend and former roommate Ms Virginia 'Pepper' Potts! Last time I heard from the redhead, was when she wanted to apply for that fail of a business, Stark Industries,"

Whitney smirks, standing up and walking over to Victoria, taking the stacks of paper from her and placing them down, back on her desk.

"Would I tell Mr Hogan you will be attending?"

Whitney nodded, slowly leaving the room, picking up her BlackBerry. Victoria grabbed Whitney's glasses, following her out the room and shutting the door on her way out.

--

http://i45.tinypic.com/330r6gk.jpg

The two glamorous women entered the room, attracting lots of attention from the pompous business men.

Whitney had her men in various different areas. Some were stalling outside, others awaiting in the high balconies. Some were even in the crowd. All armed.

Whitney herself was not armed, but Victoria had been equipped with a pistol, strapped to her left thigh.

Gently holding her glass of champagne, Victoria handed the second glass she held in her left hand, over to Whitney. Whitney took a gentle sip, before Mr Tony Stark emerged from backstage.

The crowd roared as he made his way to the podium, everyone cheering. Whitney didn't bother to applaud, awaiting until the crowd silenced.


"When my father introduced the first line of Iron Men, there was no way anyone could have predicted how invaluable they would be,"

Behind Mr Stark, appear various black and white images of Mr Howard Stark, followed by an image of the very first Iron Man. "Robert's family knew him. Oh how very cheap this all is,"

"Historians would later agree that without the Iron Men, America may not have won the Vietnam War. As with all great inventions, the Iron Men forever changed the course of history and certainly the art of warfare."

A collage of images appear upon the large screen behind Mr Stark. They are all images of the different line-ups of Iron Men.

Whitney mutters something under her breath, causing Victoria to nudge her.

"For four groundbreaking generations, Stark Industries has taken my father's idea and improved upon it,"

"With each line of Iron Men, the technology became a little more sophisticated. The weapons became a little more advanced. For the better part of four decades, the Iron Men have been the definition of 'cutting edge' in warfare."

"And now, it's time once again for Stark Industries to raise the bar."

Everyone cheers. But not Whitney.

"We have resurrected the Iron Men project and renewed our military contracts. Our engineers have worked around the clock, breaking the Iron Men down to their most basic components and trying to subtly improve each one."

Suddenly, Whitney's BlackBerry buzzes within her golden purse. She smirks and quickly slings the purse over her shoulder, scanning for the nearest exit. She spots one of her men from the Maggia family, standing by the entrance/exit. She nods over at him, triggering him to open the door, carefully. Whitney moves out of the room, leaving Victoria confused and by herself.

"And I'm proud to say their hard part has paid off,"

Whitney can hear the faint talking of Tony Stark in the background, his voice just irritating her.

"I present to you the long-awaited fifth generation of Iron Men! Ladies and gentlemen, the Peacemakers!"

Whitney can hear the crowd erupt with excitement, getting her phone out from her purse. She slowly answers it, walking sternly.

Entering the auditorium, only two of her men, dressed as waiters, are standing there. She glances down at her phone. It's Christine Everhart.

"Not a good time, Chris!"

Whitney seems frustrated, placing herself down on one of the golden sofas.

<"Well, I'm sorry, but it's urgent, boss! The press, they're really pushing for dirt on Masque, as well as the disappearance of Krissy Longfellow. I can't keep them off track for any longer, I need help from Victoria or someone!"> Christine panics over the phone.

"You work for the press, you handle it. I pay you a good amount of money to keep stories about Masque straight. Why don't you try and get your hands dirty for once?" Whitney hisses.

<"Urm, that's going to be a no! I agreed to know killing or harming people, Frost! Send someone over here or I might be fired for not doing my job! Then who will cover your ass?">

BEEEEP.

Whitney seemed raged. She held her phone with a strong grip, placing it back into her purse.

Thinking about what to do for a good five minutes, Whitney stands up and leaves the auditorium, joining Victoria back into the grand hall.



"....I present to you, the Patriot!"

"What!?"

Byrd Man
06-26-2010, 12:48 PM
http://i163.photobucket.com/albums/t302/DCMarvelRPG/Captain%20America/Misc/AllStarBanner.png



Manhattan

I climb the stairwell up to my second floor apartment. Putting the keys into the slot and opening the door, alarm bells start to go off in my head.

Someone's in my apartment.

"Might as well come on in," a voice calls out in the darkness. The lights goes on and a gray-haired man with a thick moustache is sitting at my kitchen table. He looks up at me and smiles.

"You got Steve's eyes and his jaw, but you got your mom's nose and ears."

"You got five seconds to explain who you are before I kill you."

"Come on, James. That's no way to talk to your old uncle Dum Dum, is it?"

"Wait, you mean..."

"Yep. Dum Dum Dugan, Nick Fury's right hand man during the war, one of the founding fathers of SHIELD. That's me."

"Where's your hat?"

"That dumbass bowler hat? That was an invention of Hollywood. I gotta say, they could have picked someone other than Jerry Lewis to play me in that movie."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here on orders, James. The big man wants me to sit down and brief you on something."

I pull out a chair at the kitchen table and sit across the table from Dugan.

"Seems an old buddy of ours is coming back into play. You ran into him recently. He's up to no good, that much is sure. But you need to be ready for the evil you're dealing with."

"So talk."

"Sit back and get comfortable, James. I'm going to tell you about the day the Red Skull died..."

sabetoonth
06-26-2010, 07:24 PM
Victor let the drool drip down into Logan, like when an older sibling dangles it over a pinned youngster, but Vic didn’t just dangle it, he let it drip down on his face.

“God, you stink” Logan said.

“Well, Haller didn’t let me brush my teeth or take a bath before we shipped off.” He pinned Logan down, ready to render a killer blow, well if it was a normal human it would be. Just then he noticed the explosion, the team was bailing out of the jet as it burst into flame. Distracted Logan took the chance to take the shot and stabbed Victor through the back of his head, rendering him in immense pain and unconsciousness.

“AHHHHHH!”

The one real weakness to a healing factor is the central nervous system.
**
Hong Kong, 1968

Victor Creed had hunted down the majority of the mob that had once burned down the home of his new friends and family, the Nakumarus. None survived, only he did. And he swore vengeance on them, he would hunt down and kill them all! This was the last one. The very last one.
The night air was cool, but Victor’s blood was hot, he leaped over the gaps in the roofs as he breezed through the night in search of the murderer. He made a series of sharp turns, and drops decending, ascending, going left, going right. He finally stopped ontop of a bar he knew the man frequented. Creed would wait out here and when he exited the bar, the man would die an agonizingly painful death, just like Reiko, and her family.

4:00 AM

He wabbled out of the bar, barely able to stand, Victor had managed to stay up the whole night by keeping himself moving, and when he saw the target, he sprung from the roof, to the roof of an old truck, then the ground, sprinting right into the man as he screamed knowing who was taking him.
Victor crushed his laranyx, that would shut him up and keep him from benng tracked. He carried him off into what remained of the night, stashing him in a warehouse that hadnt been used since before England had its foot in Hong Kong.

Returning that night Victor unbound the killer, he could see the terror in his eyes, it was thrilling for Victor.

First thing he did to punish the bastard was remove his finger nails, by force. He then used his claws to irritate the underlying skin now exposed. He then stripped him naked and dunked him in the cold water where the harbor came into the warehouse so boats could unload cargo. He had him submerged for maybe an hour before Creed brough him up. The next thing he did was skin him, alive, and then he hunged the body in the streets, stowing away on a ship to no where as far as Victor knew, but it would lead him to the rest of his life.
**
Victor woke up in the back of a truck, military by the looks of it. The rest of the team was present; they looked alive, but pretty beat up.

“What happened?” he asked as he sat up the grogginess beginning to wear off.

“Well, our former friend and leader took the opportunity that was the detonation of the jet and our prompt exit and rendered you out of commission for the fight, which was quite the brawl if I don’t say so myself.” Beast replied first in that oh-so intelligent voice of his.

“Ve lost dem, sey out did us.” Kurt said in the least of confident voices, his accent thickening.

“We’ll get them next time, which will be soon, and we’ll be prepared for it.” Victor looked at his of his team mates, this was the team was going to help him track down and capture his greatest foe, could be worse, but couldn’t be much better, Logan had picked these mutants because they could work as a team, and he knew how they worked as a team, Victor would have to retrain them.

“We’re goin back to the Mansion right?” Victor qued the living cargo.

“That’s right Sabretooth, you’re all going back.” The guard sitting in the front seat answered.

The wagon ride back to the mansion was soundless, one and all trapped in their own thoughts or simply dwelling on the thought they they’ve been beat twice in a few days. Once by Victor’s Marauders, once by these Reavers who in all honesty hadn’t won, but they’d let them flee. Haller was going to be chewing asses and ripping new ones. As they got off the truck each person dispersed to their own business, they would get a call when the Reavers and Logan showed up again.

As he wandered into the large domicile Victor looked back at Calvin, the kid needed to sharpen up his skills, be able to fight like a tiger, or a monkey. He needed to know more then brawling.

“Hey Calvin, meet me in the Danger Room in a few minutes.” He said as he headed to the kitchen and Calvin came through the entry. This kid was going to learn, adapt, or get his ass kicked. But that was after Victor had eaten a sandwich.

Andy C.
06-27-2010, 03:56 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



Wow, when Mary Jane said she wanted to pull in as much brain-power as possible for her Biology study group, she was not kidding. While everyone else picked their friends or the girl they thought was cute or whatever, MJ picked Blackie Drago, Debra Whitman, and me.

The proverbial Dream Team of Mr. McBride's third-period Biology class, including the 1st and 5th place winners of the Science Fair, and the guy who Octavius said would've placed too if he had put two and two together with my adhesive fluid and Gwen's pneumatic sprayers sooner.

Man, MJ must really need that A.

The four of us group our desks together, Deb acting about as subtle as a brick as she intentionally scoots her desk next to Blackie. Those two got cozy with each other pretty quickly, didn't they? I guess it pays to be a winner.

"Okay, so, we've got Cellular Respiration as our assignment, right?" Mary Jane starts us off, immediately asserting herself as the group leader. "That's....let's see.....cells gaining useful energy by converting nutrients into ATP."

"That's it, yeah," Debra says, "but it's a little more involved than just that. There's Glycolysis, the Krebs Cycle, Oxidative phosphorylation..."

"Not to mention the differences between aerobic and anaerobic respiration," Blackie pitches in.

"Yeah, this is going to be a real effort getting all of this stuff together and not putting everyone to sleep," I say with a sigh.

"No need to worry about the last part, Parker. Everyone except the four of us falls asleep in this class anyway."

"Fair enough."

"Peter's right about one thing: it is an awful lot of information. Think we should split the load a little?"

"Works for me," MJ agrees. "At this point I can pretty much recite the Krebs Cycle in my sleep, so does anybody mind if I take that one?"

There's a bit of a silence as we all give Mary Jane a surprised stare.

"Oh what, the pretty girl can't also be smart?"

"Didn't say that, it's just...y'know, what with popular kids usually hunting us brainy types for sport...."

"I did tell you I'm trying to turn over a new leaf here, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm still waiting for the part where this turns out to be a trap."

MJ just raises an eyebrow. "I see someone's still got themselves some trust issues."

"So, erm....yeah, *ahem* the Krebs Cycle is yours, Mary Jane. Sorry to interrupt your little session of....whatever it is you two are doing. I'll take Glycolysis."

"I guess I can do Aerobic vs Anaerobic Respiration."

"All right, so that leaves me with Oxidative Phosphorylation. *sigh*....always a real crowd-pleaser, that one."

Debra actually giggles a little bit, which seems to irk Blackie.

"Yes, well, I'm sure if his Science Fair project is any indication, Peter's used to boring the audience half to death."

"Hey, whoah, where did this come from? You already placed ahead of me, and now you're taking cheap shots?"

Blackie backs off, a twinge of guilt in his eyes as he shuts up. I think having Deb pay attention to me just ruffled his feathers the wrong way.

"Can we please get back to the assignment? Not all of us were lucky enough to have Mr. Toomes help us with their projects, after all."

My ears perk up when Debra mentions that, and Blackie's eyes go wide.

"Wait....you had outside help on your project? Wasn't that against the rules?"

"....that's....not what...."

"Mr. Toomes just proofread my notes and helped render the design drafts. I won my scholarship money just as fairly as Debra or Gwen or the others," Blackie says with an official-sounding tone, like he's reciting an unconvincing cover story. And considering that I'm quickly becoming an authority on unconvincing cover stories, I should know.

"Just saying, you could get in a lot of trouble if someone found out that you broke the rules of the contest."

"He didn't break the rules....did you?"

"No, I just.....anyway, can we please get back to the current assignment?!"

"Couldn't agree more," Mary Jane cuts in, relieved to change the subject. "So about the presentation, are any of you any good at Power Point?"


LATER THAT NIGHT.....



Dr. Curt Connors sat at his desk in his study, Billy and Martha watching a movie downstairs. After doing a little bloodwork on himself, he was extremely pleased with the results he was reading. Cell reproduction was through the roof, more than even his most generous initial estimates.

If he kept up with his....treatments....at this rate, he could have his arm back within six months. Mr. Osborn would be thrilled to learn about this development, he was sure. It seemed he had finally found a viable application for DNA Reflux....unlike the rather questionable lines of thinking Dr. Warren seemed to be taking lately.

As Dr. Connors recorded his findings onto his laptop, his phone rang.

"Is this Dr. Curt Connors?" a deep voice on the other end of the line asked. It sounded artificial, like whoever was on the line was speaking through an electronic voice changer.

"Speaking," he said. "Who is this?"

"I'd prefer to remain anonymous," the unnaturally deep voice responded. "I have some information regarding a recent decision you had made, and why you might wish to reconsider..."

Dr. Connors' blood went cold. He had heard all the rumors about Wilson Fisk and his alleged dealings with Mr. Osborn. If this was about the things Warren and Smythe were proposing to him....

"Look, I....I may not know who you are yet, but if you think you can call me at my home and intimidate me...."

"What? No, I have information about one of the boys who won the ESU Science Fair you judged. What are you talking about?"

Inwardly, Curt let out a sigh of relief.

"...nothing. Anyway, what's this you were saying about the Science Fair?"

Eddie Brock
06-27-2010, 11:33 AM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

I sit on the edge of the bed, buttoning up my shirt. As I do, a warm hand reaches across my body and hugs my chest. Soft lips kiss my neck, and I turn to my head to say, "I have to go, really." I push the hand away and stand up, tucking my shirt into my pants.

"I wish you wouldn't," Joan sighs.

Joan Saint. On stage, she's known simply as "JoJo." I met her while working on an assault case at the strip club where she works. One of her friends got mixed up with the wrong kind of guy, the kind who thinks it's alright to beat women within an inch of their life. It was a reality check for the girls. Joan was afraid for her friend, and I was the closest thing she had to comfort.

"I gotta start interviewing people on this murder case," I explain. I pick up my shoulder holster from the dresser and throw it over my shoulder.

I don't want my intentions to be misinterpreted. I loved my family, and I loved Maria. I always did. But for as long as I could remember, there was always a disconnect, like I was living someone else's life. Joan provided an escape. I could talk about my work - the rapes, the murders, the beatings. I would never burden Maria with that.

As I make my way to the door, Joan calls out, "Don't be a stranger."

Something about her words that day gave me pause. "Don't be a stranger," she said. Unfortunately, that's exactly how I felt sometimes - like a stranger. Fury's boys, they sure turned me into a headcase, alright.

***

I leave Andru's bar, predictably disappointed. I knew better than to expect answers from anyone there, but it was worth a shot. If nothing else, it showed Billy Russo that not everyone is afraid of him.

The streets are dark and abandoned. This isn't the most savory part of town. I unlock my car when two headlights start coming down the street. A pickup truck pulls up, and the driver rolls down the window. "Hey, you're that cop asking questions about 'The Beaut?'"

I shift my weight. "Why? You know anything?"

The man nods. He has the gun raised before I can react. My hand reaches for my own weapon, but it's too late. With a bang, a bullet rips through my chest. The noise reverberates in the silent night air. "The Beaut sends his regards!" the man announces before racing off.

I knew even then, as I collapsed on the street, that Russo was sending me a message. If he wanted me dead, he would've told his guy to aim for the head. Letting me live was only the first in a long line of mistakes for The Beaut. As I lay there bleeding, I learned something very important about sending messages.

Now, I'm about to send the biggest one of all.

Eddie Brock
06-27-2010, 07:17 PM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg

"Well, what did you think?" Obadiah asks with a broad smile. "Naturally, the color scheme was just for show, but I think they got the idea."

What do I think? So many things, Obie. So many things. Adjusting my tie, I reply, "A little advance warning would have been nice. Whatever happened to our deal, Obie? Nothing happens with the Iron Men unless you and I both approve it."

Obadiah shakes his head. "I was afraid you'd respond like this, Tony. Look, I know you're not thrilled with the Iron Men relaunch, but do you have any idea what I just did for Stark stock?"

"Good. I'm glad our shareholders will be happy. And to think, it only came at the expense of the world's safety," I snap. I lower my voice and continue, "You just designed the ultimate killing machine behind my back, all the while someone is selling our company's secrets. Forgive me if I don't seem pleased by that."

Obadiah opens his mouth to respond, but he stops when he sees a reporter approaching.

"Mr. Stark, Mr. Stane. Christine Everhart," the reporter announces with all the warmth of an icicle. Before Obie and I can even react, she flips open her notepad and takes out a pen. It's a journalistic ambush. "Would either of you mind commenting on the entity known as 'Iron Man?' He's sporting Stark Industries technology that's generations ahead of what you just showed out there, yet there seems to be no rush to bring him in."

"Ms. Everhart, I would like to stress that Iron Man is in no way affiliated with Stark Industries," Obadiah begins. "How he came into possession of that technology is beyond our current knowledge, but our best guess at this point is that he's actually using a fairly convincing facsimile of the Iron Men tech."

Patting Obie on the shoulder and giving Ms. Everhart a wry smile, I say, "Well, Obadiah, looks like you've got this one handled." As I turn and leave, I hear Ms. Everhart trying to get my attention, but I ignore her. I'm in no mood to be bull-rushed by a headstrong, well-endowed reporter right now. "What is it, Happy?" I say a little more annoyed than I intended.

"Sir, Zhang Tong is a no-show," Happy reports while fiddling with his PDA. "What should I do about his demonstration time?"

Zhang Tong is a Chinese scientist, and one of the most brilliant minds in the world. He's probably on the same level as Reed Richards, intellectually. However, he's frustratingly eccentric, and I sometimes question if he even likes the human race. With a personality like his, I'm not surprised he didn't show for the Expo.

"Tell everyone the truth," I answer. Frankly, I have bigger things on my mind than some Mandarin annoyance.

TrueMastermind
06-27-2010, 08:25 PM
Daken was hungry. Hungry for blood. As always. But this time, his neverending call for a fight wouldn't be answered.

Distracted by a speeding figure in the sky, Daken fails to notice the new arrivals. Squinting hard to try to uncover the identity of this aerial traveler, he is suprised when the flyer scoops him up from the ground.

"What the hell Cassidy! I was about to finish him!"

Looking down at two more familiar figures running towards the woods, Banshee dodges a harmful headbutt by his rebelling teammate.

"We have to get out of here; those guys were with the government. And try to hit me one more time and you'll soon be tumbling your way to more than a few broken bones."

Taking a big dive to disappear from any unwanted onlookers into the trees, Sean and Daken join their fellow Reavers.

***
(Switchin to first person)
Helicopters. I can hear the sound of the rapid spinning of the blades. Must be backup for Weapon X. Not good news.

What have I done? I brought these people into my wretched life, endangering them in the process. Only pain and struggle occurs around me, and sooner or later, it'll strike the Reavers as well. And it's too late to get out. Haller will figure out my association with the team and will no doubt harm them to get to me. What have I done?

Running like this reminds me of my previous life, the life as a highly desired murderer. But this time I'm being pursued for jumping out of a window. Fantastic. The things the military get caught up in these days. And what man in his right mind would choose a rouge such as Victor to lead a squad meant to do good?I can only feel bad for the ones who have to act under his leadership.


Distracted by my streaming thoughts, I fail to realize the sound of the chopper blades is long gone. They've given up. At least there's a little good in all of this crazy.


"I say we send this bastard out of here right now! He's just gonna get us all killed!" Nobody is happy with me. They want answers. And they deserve and will recieve them. But this mere teenager, at least he has the appearence of one, wants blood. It's clear, I can see the rage corrupting his emotions. My son wants to kill me.

"Calm down, Daks, I thought this was a little fun adventure..." Giving her a murderous, cold stare, Daken quickly convinces the once perky Domino to shut up. At least one person is on my side.

"Is there a problem here?" Snapping around to see Silver Fox standing in front of the entrance to the Reaver's cabin. Her hair is glistening with the falling rainwater, her eyes glowing through the lingering mist. Why she ever chose me as a parnter confuses me every day. But stranger things have happened.

"This son of a ***** got the military to attack us!"

"Don't talk about your father that way." At that moment, Daken snapped. Staring at me with a look of a murderer, he obviously refuses to accept me as his father. Anybody could tell that. But what was unexpected was him sprinting away into the depths of the surrounding forest, swiftly disappearing from our sight.

"I think he likes me."

"Don't worry about him, he always comes back." I peer into the mysterious darkness provided by the towering, snow-capped trees that littered the region. Then I chuckle. The others wouldn't believe the reason why, or understand why it was funny at all. But me, I find it funny that my son is like a mirror image of what I was. The son that wanted no more than to see me gone was just like me.

"I think Logan here has something he wants to talk about." At the sound of my name, my head turns to make an entrance back into the conversation. But he doesn't realize, Silver Fox has plenty to tell me as well.

"Cassidy's right, but you have to answer my question too."

sabetoonth
06-27-2010, 10:27 PM
http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/104/f/8/Hulk_banner_by_sabetoonth.jpg
Bruce watched the footage of this Logan guy killing a lot of American soldiers, then him killing simulations of his own kind. He was a ruthless murdering psychopath; and he had to be stopped.

“Dr Banner?” Bruce turned around and saw the last person he expected, his cousin, Jennifer Walters. Getting up from his seat he approached and hugged his cousin, how long had it been since he had seen her? Few years at least.

“Jennifer, wow, working for H.A.M.M.E.R.?” he looked her up and down, same old Jen, long brown hair, tied back behind her head with her narrow glasses sitting on her nose. Briliant smile.

“Kind of, I'm here to observe the different superhuman footage for the government, their thinking of putting a team together.”

“A team? What about the X-Men?” Bruce asked

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Hey, it was good seeing you Bruce, but ive
got to get back to the conference room.” they hugged, exchanged that special look you normally give a sibling, and she disappeared down the corridor.

Bruce looked back to the screen, the video had stopped, the image flipping between static and an image of Logan’s face.

sabetoonth
06-28-2010, 04:00 AM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg
Ivan walked over the grounds of the Stark Expo, fantastic, well built, truly a winder of engineering. However, Ivan Vanko had better things to do then admire the Expo’s architecture. He thumbed the cap off of his lenses and raised the camera to a displayed image of some Stark Tech, snapping a quick picture for practice as the real use would be tonight. The presentations of the Iron Men re-launch.
The crowd roared and applauded around Ivan as Tony Stark approached the podium. He smiled, waved, and posed for the cameras made Ivan sick. He cleared his throat, taking out his notes and set them down on the podium. The stage lights dimmed until there was nothing left but a spotlight on the American. He just stood there, waiting for the crowd.

"When my father introduced the first line of Iron Men, there was no way anyone could have predicted how invaluable they would be,"He started calmly. On the screen behind Stark, black-and-white images of Howard Stark and the very first Iron Men are projected. "Historians would later agree that without the Iron Men, America may not have won the Vietnam War. As with all great inventions, the Iron Men forever changed the course of history and certainly the art of warfare."

A collage of images was shown, demonstrating every incarnation of the Iron Men.

"For four groundbreaking generations, Stark Industries has taken my father's idea and improved upon it,"He continued. "With each line of Iron Men, the technology became a little more sophisticated. The weapons became a little more advanced. For the better part of four decades, the Iron Men have been the definition of 'cutting edge' in warfare."

He smiled broadly and Ivan wanted to punch his teeth out. "And now, it's time once again for Stark Industries to raise the bar."The crowd cheered excitedly and Ivan wanted to yell out- “Raise the bar? So you can hang more from it?” "We have resurrected the Iron Men project and renewed our military contracts. Our engineers have worked around the clock, breaking the Iron Men down to their most basic components and trying to subtly improve each one."


"And I'm proud to say their hard part has paid off,"Mr. Stark continued with a smile. The spotlight dimmed, and the stage behind him started to get brighter. "I present to you the long-awaited fifth generation of Iron Men! Ladies and gentlemen, the Peacemakers!"Vanko raised his uncapped camera over the heads of the crowd member in front of him ready to photograph the new units.





The crowd went wild as five Iron Men units rose up from beneath the stage. Stark stared at them contemptuously."Yeah! How about that?"

The billionaire picks up another set of notes, glancing out of the corner of his eye. He began to read slowly, "But you've been patient, and I think it's time you were all rewarded for that."

“What are you doing now, Stark?”

"When the fourth generation of Iron Men - the Harbingers - were outfitted with repulsor beam technology, they were revolutionary. And ever since then, we have been searching for ways to take the Iron Men to the next level."

The crowd buzzed, Vank0 stood there taking photographs of the Peacemakers.

"My father designed the Iron Men as a way to get soldiers off the front lines," Stark announces, he kept reading his prepared speech. "But it's become clear that humans will always be an important part of warfare. No machine can account for a soldier's sense of judgment or reasoning capability. So, for the first time, Stark Industries is putting the 'man' back in 'Iron Man.'"


"Work has already begun on the sixth generation of Iron Men, which will be the first line of Iron Men suits to be fully pilotable."

"In fact, in the spirit of the Stark Expo, our Iron Men team has worked overtime to prepare a prototype for this new generation. Ladies and gentlemen, it's not every day you get to see the future. I present to you, the Patriot!"


“Oh my God.” Ivan had two things going through his mind; he must acquire the Patriot, or otherwise steal the technology. Ivan continued to snap pictures of the Iron Men, and the Patriot. “You will be first Stark, and then the rest of this godforsaken country.”

Byrd Man
06-28-2010, 09:15 AM
Hanover, Germany
April 23rd, 1945

The war in Europe was almost over.

Allied forces were now in Germany. US and Soviet forces raced towards Berlin, with the Red Army standing just outside Berlin's gates preparing to invade.

Hundreds of miles from Berlin, a small platoon of soldiers marched through the darkness of the German countryside. The twelve men were the best trained soldiers in all the allied forces. Made up of mostly American troops, a few British soldiers were scattered in the group.

Walking point for the group were two men the soldiers had seen in countless news reels and on a few US Bond posters.

"Hold up here," Army Captain Steve Rogers, Captain America, said to the men behind him. A darkened castle loomed just a half mile in front of the soldiers. "What's it look like, Dugan?"

"I count a dozen sentries," Dum Dum Dugan said as he looked through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"Alright, Nick," Rogers said to the man on his left. "Troops are in position at the point of no return. All we need is the green light, Colonel."

Watchman
06-28-2010, 11:19 AM
The Skull sat a room that may have sat a king, a prince or baron but now was converted to house officers. He was at his giant desk maps, documents, and a Nazi flag covered it. He smashed a bottle of wine on it. Pity, a good year and a gift from Mussolini himself. That fat clown was hanging upside somewhere.

The Fuhrer's tantrum is coming to end soon. He must be holed up crying like a child now. His pathetic dream up in smoke. He always failed to see the big picture. He went to him many times but he was waved aside. No! It was about the Jews, the great Germany rise again. Fool! He was a blind fool. He had a great plans. The real emergence of the superman. Was he not proof of that? Was his rival not proof of that? He was going to make a better world. A world cultivated by his hand and ruled by it.

He just wanted the Skull to be his dog. Although all the killing, burning, and chaos was just a game. He would play along, be amused by it. Also, a burning hatred. One man who he hated as much a the fuhrer. No more now. The Russians will drag his body through the streets, the Americans will stand him up against the world. No, he was a coward.

Although, his home country turned down his plans. He did find men who would supply him with anything he needed. Greedy men who use them for their needs. He found Dr. Zola a kindred spirit, one who share him with these beautiful secrets. The great mysteries of the world would be in Skull's grasp. He had enough test subjects. The Jewish ghettos were unloaded straight into Zola's labs. There has been a breakthrough, though. Ancient artifacts were found and the code has been cracked. The Skull threw his a match onto the flag burning the papers and the flag. This would be the night that would change the direction of the war and then the world.

Andy C.
06-28-2010, 03:21 PM
Hanover, Germany
April 23rd, 1945

The war in Europe was almost over.

Allied forces were now in Germany. US and Soviet forces raced towards Berlin, with the Red Army standing just outside Berlin's gates preparing to invade.

Hundreds of miles from Berlin, a small platoon of soldiers marched through the darkness of the German countryside. The twelve men were the best trained soldiers in all the allied forces. Made up of mostly American troops, a few British soldiers were scattered in the group.

Walking point for the group were two men the soldiers had seen in countless news reels and on a few US Bond posters.

"Hold up here," Army Captain Steve Rogers, Captain America, said to the men behind him. A darkened castle loomed just a half mile in front of the soldiers. "What's it look like, Dugan?"

"I count a dozen sentries," Dum Dum Dugan said as he looked through the scope of his sniper rifle.

"Alright, Nick," Rogers said to the man on his left. "Troops are in position at the point of no return. All we need is the green light, Colonel."

"Just remember your objective, Rogers," Colonel Fury reminded the brightly-costumed war hero. "No matter what happens here, no matter what happens to any of us....the Skull does not leave that castle alive."

Ever since the start of the war, Fury and his Howling Commandos had been ravaging the Axis fronts, striking hard then disappearing before the enemy could retaliate, only to re-deploy in an entirely different theater of the war. One of the new SHIELD branch's most elite and feared units, they carried out missions of sabotage and assassinations that would pass for the stuff of Hollywood fantasy. And as everyone in the German ranks knew, they did not take prisoners.

Despite the Commandos' frightening reputation to balance the poster-boy image of Captain America, they were hardly the most feared entity of the war. Most passed him off as a wild campfire story, but tales of Hitler's unseen right-hand circulated throughout both the Axis and Allied camps. A man who was a brilliant strategist and tactician, a devastating warrior.....and a heartless maniac. Though his existence was never confirmed or denied by the top brass, there were very few who heard tell of the Skull and were not terrified.

Colonel Nick Fury was one of those very few.

He had encountered the Skull in person once, about six months back--the day that Jonathan "Junior" Juniper was killed. The Germans were attempting to re-capture the brilliant scientist Albert Einstein in order to beat the United States to developing an atomic bomb, and the Skull had been there to carry out the mission. The Commandos intercepted them and escaped with Einstein gravely wounded but still alive, but had lost Juniper and six other Army regulars in the process. All of them killed personally by the Skull.

The Colonel knew that casualties were an inevitability in war, but he took the lives of his Commandos very personally. The fact that the Skull had cost him one of his own still stung Fury, and made him that much more determined to find him and exterminate him.

Months of intelligence gathering and extremely risky espionage had led them here, to this castle, where the Skull and his fanatical minions were planning something big. While they were never able to ascertain precisely what it was, SHIELD had been dispatched to stop it.

Jones and Manelli were in position, ready to blow the first barricade. Once that happened, Dugan would fire at will on the sentries; the best sniper in the Allied forces would have approximately thirty seconds to take out twelve guards before the Commandos would be in range. From there, Jones and Cohen would sweep and clear the first level of the castle, allowing the defector Eric Koenig to lead them to Dr. Zola's lab.

Colonel Fury checked his watch, squinting his blue eyes to make out the time in the dim light of the dawn.

"We advance in three......two......one."

The concussive punches from a series of demolitions charges ripped through lengths of barbed wire and concrete, blasting the German defensive works apart.

"WAAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

Fury grinned at the sound of 'Rebel' Ralston letting out his trademark Rebel Yell, the rest of the Commandos responding in kind with the wild whoops and howls that gave them their name as the outside of the castle erupted into gunfire.

The Colonel sprang up from his position, and charged ahead, Captain America sprinting out in front of him.

Today, the Fuhrer's right hand would be cut off.

Watchman
06-28-2010, 04:44 PM
Double Post

Watchman
06-28-2010, 05:21 PM
Not now.

The explosion had ripped through the castle. The Skull hurried out of the room shouting orders at his guards. The Americans are here he knows who is beyond these castle walls.

"Captain...Fury..." He would kill them both. Oh yes. He would show them what he was capable of. What he had created behind this wall. They would tremble and beg him for mercy and none will come. Although, he must take care of his affairs here first. A man in a gray suit. He was uncomfortable to say the least. He stood nervously between two guards.

"Take him away. Make sure that no one sees where you are going." He told the guards in German.

"They will bring you to a truck which will leave out the back entrance. A plane is waiting at an airfield twenty kilometers north. The plane will eventually bring you back to the states, any questions." There was no emotion in his voice. He needed this man out now.

"Er...yes...what should I call you?"

"The Skull. I am the Red Skull."

"Very well I will respect your need anonymity. All the information I need will be found in the briefcase?" He held it up.

"Yes, my legacy, Zola's documents and notes, schematics. Follow it and we will not fail."

"Very well. Any information on yourself and everything you've been involved will be destroyed. My superiors will see to that. You'll be a ghost." The guards pulled his arm and started to escort him out.

"By the way your English is fantastic."

The Skull preceded down a flight of nearby stone stairs. What used to lead to a dungeon of legend is now the greatest laboratory in the new worlds. All those Jew scientist that the United States were able to get their hands on can not compare to the genius of this man. The legend goes that he received his information from space gods. He spent time in a mental asylum. He was ready to be put down if he did not turn the guards into ash with a tool that he made while spending time in a concentration camp.

He was the Butcher of the Fuhrer's Court. He was Dr. Arnim Zola.

"Ah, Herr Skull I was expecting you. I plan on defecting." He looked up from what looked a human once but now nothing but a mass of meat It was still making sounds. He looked at Skull with beady eyes through giant goggles. He was a stout man, bald, and a sadist.

"Yes, well, that is the plan." Zola let out a laugh and went back to work. Human carcasses twisted in unnatural positions littered the room.

"I decided to have some fun until the Allies show up. What do you think?"

"Are they ready?"

"Ah, you were never one for the art. Very well. You can come out now." A cage door open. One stood a foot taller than the Skull. He wore the standard SS uniform and a mask with a the Iron Cross symbol. On top of that was a skull. The other wore a armor suit with electricity pulsating off of him. His helmet looked like a gas mask that occasionally lit up. He had a weapon that was able to fire streams of energy.

"Crossbones, the "master man" and Blitzkrieg the Lightning Man. My two beauties."

"Send them out. Make sure they wipe out Fury and his little club but save Rogers for me."

"Yes, yes. Go on and play, you two but bring the one wearing the flag back." They precede to leave the lab.

"And what about the other item?"

"Ah, yes. The stone. I must warn you about this one. This is not a living weapon you can just point. This is something else entirely. It is unstable and I would advise against its use."

"No! Today they will know what I am capable of...give it to me." Zola handed him a thin wooden box.

"The Spear of Destiny."

Andy C.
06-28-2010, 06:11 PM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg

WILL NOT BE ATTENDED BY

http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



I've got the DVR in the rec room set up to record the highlights that G4 is playing. In the meantime, I'm out on patrol.

The NYPD have really rallied against the Big Man after the failed attack by Shocker, so there hasn't been a whole lot of action on that particular front, at least none that requires super-heroic intervention. Captain Stacy and his crew have been taking almost all of Tombstone's drug rings off the streets (I know as much because Gwen lent me an old police scanner from her dad's attic and I've been listening in on the action) Until they're ready to move in on Lincoln himself, or until another Big Man-funded supervillain shows up, I'll be more than content to lay low and let the boys in blue handle things. Show Captain Stacy that I'm okay with letting the actual law-enforcement enforce the law.

Besides, I've got something else to worry about aside from the Big Man. There's a criminal running around, who's actually calling me out.

A couple of nights ago, a jewelry store got knocked over. About fifty thousand dollars worth of diamonds and gold was stolen, but the alarm was never tripped, and the police found no traces of how the burglar could have entered or exited the store. Whoever did this slipped in, stole a ton of really really valuable stuff, then slipped right out, and could have just left without a trace....

....except the cops found a note that she left for me.

Dear Spider-Man,

I've been watching you for a while now, and I've gotta say, I really like what I see. The black suit, the slick moves, the attitude--I really want to get a little one-on-one time with Brooklyn's favorite superhero. Sadly, you don't have a phone number, an email address, a Facebook page, or even a Spider-symbol to shine in the sky. So since the only time Spider-Man comes out to play is when there are bad guys on the loose, I think I'll be bad for a little while.

Come and get me, Spider. I can't wait to meet you in person.

-The Black Cat

And then on the bottom of the note there's a kiss with black lipstick. Okay, I know she's a criminal and all, but dang.....that is just hot.

As I leap across the rooftops, I can't help but dwell on it. Who exactly is this 'Black Cat' chick? At least, I hope she's a chick-- it's gonna be really awkward if it turns out to be a dude (which has unfortunately happened to me once or twice on World of Warcraft; that's pretty much why I stopped playing). How do I go about finding her, when I'm not what you'd call a master detective by any stretch of the imagination? And if I do find Black Cat, what do I do? I mean, the obvious answer is arrest her, since she's stealing stuff, but she's doing it just to get my attention, so maybe if I can convince her to give it all back, she could--

KKKKRRRAAAAAAASSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!


......that's never a good sound.

I hoof it a few blocks down the street to the source of the noise, and see the remains of an 18-wheeler. It looks like something just ripped its way out from inside, then kept ripping at it.

I leap down from the roof and land on the truck's cab, caved in like a boulder had fallen on it. There's a man inside, barely conscious, a trickle of blood streaming down from his forehead.

I pry open the door and pull him out, trying to get him lucid again.

"You okay, man? What happened here?"

"I dunno....I just...." the man slurs in a daze. "Big Man said......said 'drop it off here'.......so I dropped it off......then, boom. I dunno what......what....."


"RRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"

There's a loud THOOM....THOOM.....THOOM as heavy footsteps come from around the corner, and a great big....thing steps out, screaming like a wounded animal.

Good Lord, this guy is huge. As big as the Hulk, maybe even bigger! Covered head to toe in dark gray plates of armor, he's got to be almost twelve feet tall, and almost as big across. Most of his face is obscured by a helmet, which has a great big spike on the front of it.....wait, not a spike. A horn.

"Okay, a big rhino guy....apparently made by the Big Man....and I'm guessing he's not gonna be too happy to see--"

"YOOOOUUUUUUU!!!!!!"

"....aw, nuts."

The gigantic armored rhino-man stalks towards me, glowing red eyes locked right on me, growling with hate.

http://yfrog.com/eaultimatespiderman200509jhttp://img193.imageshack.us/img193/8325/ultimatespiderman200509.jpg

Why can't I ever randomly bump into people who are glad to see me?

Byrd Man
06-28-2010, 08:57 PM
Jones and Manelli were in position, ready to blow the first barricade. Once that happened, Dugan would fire at will on the sentries; the best sniper in the Allied forces would have approximately thirty seconds to take out twelve guards before the Commandos would be in range. From there, Jones and Cohen would sweep and clear the first level of the castle, allowing the defector Eric Koenig to lead them to Dr. Zola's lab.

Colonel Fury checked his watch, squinting his blue eyes to make out the time in the dim light of the dawn.

"We advance in three......two......one."

The concussive punches from a series of demolitions charges ripped through lengths of barbed wire and concrete, blasting the German defensive works apart.

"WAAAAAAAA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

Fury grinned at the sound of 'Rebel' Ralston letting out his trademark Rebel Yell, the rest of the Commandos responding in kind with the wild whoops and howls that gave them their name as the outside of the castle erupted into gunfire.

The Colonel sprang up from his position, and charged ahead, Captain America sprinting out in front of him.

Today, the Fuhrer's right hand would be cut off.

With his shield strapped to his back and a rifle in his hands, Captain America takes the lead on the bumrush to the castle. The crack of Dugan's sniper rifle fills the air. In a short amount of time, all the sentries were either dead or seriously wounded. Coming to a stop at the castle gates, Rogers waited for the rest of the Howling Commandos to reach him.

"You know your jobs. Cohen, Jones, you two are on point. Here we go, covering fire on three. One, two-"

The side of the castle wall exploded, covering the troops in brick and mortar dust.

A giant man dressed as an SS officer grabbed Rogers by his collar and swung him into the castle. The other man, the one crackling with electricity, stepped through the hole and began attacking the Howling Commandos with bolts of electricty.

"Hello, little man," the giant man said as he slammed Rogers against the wall. "I am Crossbone. I take you to Herr Skull."

Picking himself off the ground, Captain America pulled his shield off his back and charged Crossbones.

"Over my dead body, buddy!"

Using his shield as a battering ram, Rogers slammed into Crossbones. The giant man absorbed the super-soldier's blow, grabbing him around the waist and tossing him into the far wall where he smacked against the bricks hard.

"Dead body? No, he will not accept that.. But a broken body? I can work with."

Byrd Man
06-29-2010, 01:32 AM
Spanish Harlem

Fresh off his acquittal in Ernesto Sosa was celebrating his flaunting of the justice system the best way he knew how. By shoving a quarter ounce of heroin up his nose.

Sitting on the large couch inside his living room, Sosa's head began to dip and nod. He was so far gone, he didn't even jump when the front door to his apartment building came crashing open....


Lower Manhattan

The cold water splashing on his face brought Sosa out of his stupor. Waking with a start, he leapt up off the cold, concrete floor.

"Ernesto Sosa," a voice called out in the darkness. Sosa looked around frantically for the voice's owner. "Do you believe in God?"

"What kind of **** is this, puto? Do you know who I am?"

"I know you very well. Ernesto Sosa, DOB 12/5/1981. Your first arrest was at the age of fifteen, armed robbery. From there, the list gets worse and worse. Fast-forward to today, you're one of Upper Manhattan's biggest drug pushers and you just got off on murdering two people."

"What are you? NYPD? FBI?"

"You wish."

In the darkness, a shadowy figure runs by Sosa and knocks him to the ground. Sosa, now shaking from fright.

"Please! You asked me if I believe in God. I do! In the church, they say to forgive."

"...That they do."

Suddenly, the lights come on and Sosa sees the seven people surrounding him. All of them clad in red, dressed as the devil.

"Forgiveness is up to God to decide," Matt Murdock said. In his hands were two crimson billy clubs. "It's my job to arrange the meeting between you two..."


Chinatown

Sergeant Cole pulled his squadcar to the side of the street and got out. Ducking under the crime scene tape, Cole walks up to the closest detective.

"You call?"

"Yeah," the detective says. "I need an alibi from you for last night, Sergeant."

Cole blinks, surprised. "Uhh. I was at home with my wife and child. Why?"

The detective bends down to he dead body covered with a white sheet. Pulling the sheet back, he reveals the bloody and beaten body of Ernesto Sosa.

"Based on what I've seen, he was beaten so bad his skull is fractured in about ten different places, half his teeth are knocked out of his mouth, and his nose pretty much collapsed when something very hard bashed it in."

Cole nods somberly. On the inside, he's smiling a bit. A very severe beating. He was beaten almost to the point of overkill, it was unnecessary to inflict this kind of pain. If you asked Cole, it couldn't have happened to a better guy.

sabetoonth
06-29-2010, 11:41 AM
Crimson Dynamo

Ivan set to work upon arrival at the lab. Viewing the photographs vigorously during their development. Sieving through one of his many bags Vanko rediscovered his magnifying glass. Over the course of the night he completely disassembled the Peacemaker filling in with educated guesses where he could not for sure see the parts of the machine.

As the sun rose over the night and brought the day, he had entirely planned his own drone based on the Dynamo and Iron Man lines.

“Father would be proud.” Ivan spoke into the laboratory, he had a day to construct it and to re-construct his suit similarly and then launch and attack on Stark on his “home turf”.

Eddie Brock
06-29-2010, 11:35 PM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg

"Martini, as dirty as you can make it, darling," I tell the voluptuous bartender. If there's one thing I do enjoy about the Stark Expo, it's probably the after-parties. For a bunch of scientists and businessmen, these people certainly know how to cut loose. Reaching into my jacket, I leave a few c-notes on the bar as I take my drink.

I take a sip of the drink as Rhodey approaches. "Rhodey. Aren't you contractually forbidden from having fun?" I ask.

"Very funny, Tony," he responds in a tone which tells me that he didn't find it "very funny" at all. He moves past me to the bar, "Long Island Iced Tea," then leans against the bar as he stares at me. "How is it?"

"Not stiff enough," I answer. "So, did the brass send you down to get a look at Obadiah's abominations?"

Rhodey takes his drink, smiles at the bartender, and strategically takes a drink to keep from answering my question.

"Pretty attractive," I remark, referring to the bartender. "You should go for it."

Shaking his head, Rhodey replies, "I'm not down here to get laid."

"So it is work, then."

"Listen, Tony, like it or not, the new Iron Men are a hit," Rhodey begins. "I'm sorry that you and your joyriding have to share the spotlight, but that's the way life works sometimes."

"You know this isn't about joyriding, and it isn't about the spotlight. People are getting killed by the weapons my father designed to protect them," I explain. "I can't stand for it."

Rhodey looks at me. I think that was a test, and I think I just passed. Given my track record, I don't blame Rhodey for being uneasy about someone like me in control of the most powerful weapon ever built. "I'm signing up for the Iron Men program," Rhodey announces suddenly.

"If you wanted to get in the driver's seat, you could have just told me," I respond without missing a beat. "I'd have Pepper whip something up for you."

Rhodey shakes his head. "No, Tony, no. You see, some of us realize that there's a right way to do things and a wrong way to do things. I take orders. I follow the rules. This is how it works."

"Maybe for you. I, for one, have never valued self-control." Noticing someone in the crowd behind Rhodey, I pat my friend on the shoulder and remark, "Enjoy the party." I move through the crowd, finally announcing, "Millie Collins. I didn't peg you for a tech geek."

Turning with a smile, Millie notes, "I think you'll find I'm very surprising all around, Tony."

"That does seem to be the case," I agree. "Very few women turn down an offer to see my penthouse, and even fewer turn down the second offer." I grin wryly.

"I'm sorry I pose an unusual challenge for you. I know most girls fall right into bed when they find out how much you're worth," she says with a devilish grin of her own.

"What are you doing here, though? Shopping around for the latest and greatest in modern warface technology?"

Laughing, Millie explains, "I'm in New York on a gig, actually. I've heard that the Stark Expo parties are must-see events, and it sure beats spending the night in the hotel."

"That they are." I put my hand on Millie's shoulder softly. "First, though, you need a drink." I turn in the direction of the bar and am momentarily stopped by what I see.

Sensing my hesitation, Millie asks, "Tony? Is everything okay?"

"What? Oh. Yes, it is. I just, uh, saw my assistant walk in," I answer.

"Who, Happy? Where?" She looks around until she sees Happy standing by the bar. "Oh, there he is. Wow. That's a gorgeous woman he's with. Are they together?"

She's referring, of course, to Pepper, who is laughing at one of Happy's jokes. I don't get jealous often, so when it happens, I'm never quite sure how to handle it. Finding my voice again, I say, "I don't think so. I'm not really sure right now."

"Oh. Well, if they're not together, they should be," Millie remarks. "They're great together."

All I can manage is to mumble, "Yeah...great."

sabetoonth
06-30-2010, 02:06 AM
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_wZxyC3BZI4s/S7lroQe-i4I/AAAAAAAAAuc/hU2mPDPgXgI/s640/stark+expo+2010+image+-+banner.jpg
Ivan opened his suit case, extracting the suit and tie he had brought with him. This was the next part of the suit/drone building; acquire the plans for a previous Iron Man, the newer the better.


As he walked through the party he pushed past the reporters. His target: Obadiah Stane.


“Mr. Stane!” Ivan reached his hand out for the Stark Industries Boardman. Getting his attention Obadiah turned to the Russian.


“Yes?”


“I have a business proposition.” Vanko responded. Stan furrowed his brow.


“What kind of proposition?”


“I am looking to develop a drone based on Stark tech as a pet project.” Ivan was being vague but not untrue.


“Well, what is it you want from me?” Obadiah crossed his arms, his dark blue suit wrinkling further.


“How much would you let plans or blue prints for an Iron Man go for?”


“Iron Man plans?” Stane’s arms remained crossed. “Why would I give you plans for the most advanced piece of Stark Industries tech, past or present?” Stane seemed interested, but wary.


“Because it is outdated and you have more advanced technology out there under that stage.” He began, “And now you have a suit as well, even 4th generation Iron Men are a leap to a suit, a far distance leap.”


“You do have a point there…I didn’t catch your name.” the Boardman asked.


“Dimitri Bukharin.” Vanko lied for the first time in this whole conversation.


“Well, Dimitri.” Stane stroked his chin. “What would you be doing with the finished product?”


“I would put it on for show in my workshop, a trophy of my labors if you will.” Stane nodded staring at the floor.


“The plans won’t be cheap.”


“Just give me the numbers; I have benefactors who will cover the costs.”


“Benefactors? I thought this was a pet project?” Stane was getting more cautious.


“They are only friends who also admire the work I do.” Again, this wasn’t a lie when you looked at it right.


“Well, they won’t go for cheap,” he repeated, “Perhaps…” Ivan was on his toes to get the number and then the plans. “4,000,000 for the Harbinger’s plans?” Ivan knew this was a lot of money, but his country could afford it.


“I will arrange for the money to be wired to me, from there…” the Russian trailed off to allow Stane to state method of pay.


“I have a Swiss bank account for times like these.” He looked around the room full of people for something to write on. “Dimitri” pulled from his pockets a notepad.


“Sometimes I need to make notes, I write them down here.” He offered Obadiah the notepad. Taking it he wrote down the account number and PIN.


“There ya go Dimitri, you wouldn’t mind showing me the finished product would you?” Ivan smiled.


“Of course.”

Eddie Brock
06-30-2010, 09:31 PM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

"Alright, Frank, I've gotta get out of here," Jimmy announces. Taking his jacket off the back of his chair, he explains, "Rebecca will kill me if I don't make it to family dinner on time." He chuckles at this.

Barely acknowledging what he said, I look up from my papers and say, "Oh? Alright, then. Have fun."

"What's up, man? You've been like a zombie today," Jimmy remarks. He walks around his desk to look at what I'm working on. When he does, I hear him sigh. "The Conway case still, Frank? You do know this is the case that got you shot, right?"

That was two weeks ago. The chief urged me to take more time off, but I wouldn't. I'm needed here. "Exactly. They haven't even found the guy who shot me yet," I explain. "Russo's digging himself a nice, deep grave. All that's left now is to bury him."

"Just take it easy, okay, Frank?" Jimmy replies cautiously. "I don't want to see anything else happen to you."

"I'll be fine, Jim. I'm just reviewing witness statements." I look up at him and manage a smile. "Go be with your family."

***

I'll never forget the night it happened. After work, I met up with Joan. I told Maria that I had been following a lead - which wasn't entirely untrue. Earlier that day, I had gone around and asked some more questions about Russo's organization. I had stopped by the station on my way home to use the showers. To this day, I still wonder how things might've changed if I had just gone straight home.

"What the Hell?"

I drive down my street slowly, looking at the flashing lights in the distance. As I draw closer, I realize that the squad cars are parked in front of my house. I park my car quickly and step out. Jimmy is the first person to see me. I can see the terror in his eyes. "Frank, let me talk to you first," he urges.

There's an ambulance, and my front yard is roped off. The sergeant on duty sees me approaching and hurriedly mutters something into his radio. Jimmy tries to hold me back, but I keep approaching the house. "Frank!"

The paramedics are wheeling out someone on a gurney now. A little girl. My little girl. Lisa. "What the Hell happened to her?" I bark. Then, as if I hadn't been emphatic enough, I repeat louder, "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO HER?!" I push past a handful of officers as I approach the gurney.

Lisa's eyes are rolling in her head. The image haunts me from the moment I see it. Her little sundress is blood-stained, and I'm able to see at least three gunshot wounds. Her face is pale, and her breathing is labored. "THAT'S MY DAUGHTER!"

At this point, Jimmy catches up to me. Grabbing me from behind, he whispers urgently, "Frank, take a second to let me talk to you. You don't need to be looking at this."

I break free of Jimmy's grasp and force myself up to the house. Seeing the anger and determination on my face, the officers fall back now rather than confront me. I walk into the foyer and see a group of crime scene investigators huddled in the kitchen. They panic when they see me.

"Where's my wife?" I demand. "Where's Maria?!"

Then, I see it. A bodybag in the middle of the floor. The CSIs scatter as I kneel down next to it. One of them clears his throat nervously, but upon seeing that it has no effect on me, he quickly shuts up. Already knowing the truth but hoping against hope that I'm wrong, I slowly unzip the bag.

"...Maria..."

Andy C.
07-01-2010, 02:43 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



So here I am, minding my own business, not looking for any trouble--okay, that's a lie, trouble is exactly what I'm looking for when I hit the streets in costume--and then out comes this ridiculously huge monster-man in a robotic rhino suit, smashing everything in general and trying like nobody's business to smash me in particular. And if the truck driver I saved was telling the truth, then the Big Man probably created this guy specifically to get me.

Guess that's what I get for thinking Tombstone would just roll over after I took out Shocker, and not immediately going after him. I swear, I just ask for this crap, don't I?

"Okay, seriously, Rhino, you don't think we can just talk this over?" I say as I leap out of the way of an airborne Volkswagen.

"YOU KNOW MY NAME?!" he shouts, his gaping mouth pretty much the only way I can tell he's emoting.

"You're....you're dressed like a rhinoceros. It really wasn't that hard to figure out." Man, I guess I'm lucky Tombstone decided not to put a really smart guy in that suit, or else I'd be even more screwed than I am. "But really, it doesn't look like you're having a good time, what with all the screaming and rampaging. What's with your big hate-on for me?"

"YOU.....YOU HURT ME BEFORE! PUT ME IN JAIL! BEAT ME UP! NOW I HURT YOU!!!"

Rhino charges at me, gleaming metal horn pointed at me and looking to gore me like, well, his namesake animal I guess. I wait until he's only a few feet away, then leap up over the horn, somersault forward and slam both feet onto his head, then jump away behind him.

Much to my chagrin, he doesn't just keep running and then slam into a wall and knock himself out. Even though he's a classic 'big, dumb, charge at you and not stop even after you get out of the way' boss fight. Man, video games can NOT be trusted.

"Don't know what you're talking about, pal," I say as I hit the asphalt and roll so I'm facing him. "I've never beaten up a guy who talks like a caveman--though I guess it must be hard to think while lugging that big suit around. Seriously, judging by the way your face is straining, that's gotta be really painful."

Rhino leaps at me--wow, he can actually get some serious air; make a mental note not to rely on being able to just jump over him--then slams his fist into the pavement where I was standing a split-second ago. The impact kicks up shards of shattered concrete and asphalt, some of which fly past me and would've hit me if not for my Spider-Senses.

"GOTTA CRUSH YOU," the big lug says, like he's trying to remind himself what he's doing. "BIG MAN SAYS GOTTA CRUSH YOU. THEN WE'LL SEE, HE SAID."

"How about we see right now, huh?" I say as I sling out a web to snare a nice big chunk of concrete, then charge towards Rhino with it dragging behind me. "Here's gravel in your eye, big'un!"

I jump up to just about eye-level with the massive monster, then whip my web-line around like a lasso, bringing the big concrete chunk around and slamming it straight into his face.

"Bet that hurt, didn't it?" I say as I touch down in front of him....before I realize that he didn't even flinch at it.

"NOPE."

".....you sure?"

"YUP."

"....crap."

Rhino swings another haymaker at me, and I'm fast enough to duck right under it, as well as the two others that come after it. The next punch he puts too much weight into and drives his fist so far into the ground that he gets pretty much his whole forearm stuck in the crater.

I take advantage and fire wide arcs of webbing all over his stuck arm, trying to pin it down. And whaddya know, my tactic actually works.....for a couple of seconds, til Rhino pulls hard enough that he just rips right through my web fluid. That would be the same web-fluid that has more tensile strength than steel, remember.

"CAN'T STOP ME, SPIDER!" Rhino taunts, gritting his teeth through what must be pretty excruciating pain.

Hey, waitaminute.....that voice.....now I recognize it!

"O'Hirn?! Alex O'Hirn?! Is that you in there?!"

Rhino stops for a minute, like he just remembered his name.

"....O'HIRN...."

"Yeah, you remember, don't you? You and Flint Marko? Knocking over convenience stores, raising all kinds of trouble? Then I'd jump down and beat the crap out of you two and oh dear I really shouldn't have brought up that last part should I?"

"RRRRRAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!"

O'Hirn plants both of his hands into the asphalt, and literally just pulls an enormous chunk of the street right out of the ground, dirt and rock and everything. I'd go over too it and check if I can see right down into the subway, but I'm a little too terrified to even move at this point.

By the time my Spider-Senses are screaming "MOVE!" loudly enough that I actually listen, the gigantic slab of ground that's hurdling at me is pretty much right in my face, so all I can do is hold out my hands and feet and hitch a ride on it before it would splatter me.

The whole world blurs around me as I try to figure out what to do now. I'm rocketing down the street on an impromptu boulder, which is very likely to cause an awful lot of collateral damage if I just hop off. And if I don't hop off, I'm probably going to break every bone in my body when this finally hits something.

Not to mention I still have to deal with freaking Goliath over here.....

......now there's an idea...

I grip onto the boulder with my feet, then sling out a pair of web-lines that stick to opposite buildings on both sides of the street, then hold on for dear life as they stretch.....and streeeetch....

Until finally they go taut.

"RIGHT BACK AT YA, RHINO!" I shout as the web-lines snap back, firing the boulder and me towards O'Hirn like an enormous slingshot.

I really hope this works.....


*KA-BOOOOOMMMM!*




The huge slab of rock and concrete and asphalt practically explodes as it slams dead-on into Rhino, kicking up a huge cloud of dust and debris as I backflip away from the wreckage.

"Whew! Now that had to do some real damage!" I say to myself....

....then the smoke clears....and I see Rhino's still standing.

"RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGH!!!!!!"

.......damn.

Alex O'Hirn, small-time crook and all-time loser, is now indestructible.

As in, there is no physical way I am ever going to hurt this guy.

Ever.

Rhino charges at me again, gleaming metal horn aimed for the kill.

I'm fast enough that I can dodge his attacks and keep clear of him for a good long while, I hope. But eventually, my odds are going to run out.

Eventually, he's gonna get his hands on me.

And when he does, I am all kinds of dead.



Like, all of them.



Seriously. Every possible kind of dead you can think of, that's me.





I'm gonna collect the whole set of dead. I'll be like the Poke'-Master of being dead.








Help?

Eddie Brock
07-02-2010, 01:14 AM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

I'm sitting silently in the interview room back at the station. The events and scenes back at my home replay over and over in my head. I'm not sure what to think, how to feel. I'd explain it, but I don't really know what it was, to be honest. I've just never felt so empty.

The door to the interview room opens, and a pudgy sergeant walks in. Jimmy follows closely behind. "He hasn't said a word since the crime scene," Jimmy explains. He avoids my gaze at all costs.

The pudgy sergeant sits down. He stares at me for a moment, as if sizing me up. "Frank? Officer Castle?" When I don't respond, he sighs and continues, "I'm Sergeant Desmond Kline with Homicide." Again, I say nothing. "Where were you tonight, Frank?"

I look at him in the eyes. "Why?"

"You went off-duty hours ago," Kline replies. "Where were you?"

"What does it matter?" I say hollowly.

Kline sighs again. "The ballistics came in. The bullets matched your gun, Frank." He stares at me, no doubt expecting a response. I wouldn't give him the pleasure. "As you may already know, there are no signs of forced entry at the scene."

"So?"

"So where were you?" Kline asks again, clearly losing his patience.

"None of your f***ing business."

Kline stands up. "See, that's just it, Frank. It is my f***ing business now." He walks around the table towards me. Jimmy keeps staring at the ground. "Frank Castle, you are under arrest for the murders of Maria and Lisa Castle."

"WHAT?!"

Kline grabs my arms and starts handcuffing me. This fat f*** is serious! "You have the right to remain silent--"

"Jimmy, are you just going to f***ing stand there?!" I bark. "Do something!" Jimmy finally meets my gaze.

"--anything you say can - and will - be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney..."

bkhedr
07-02-2010, 04:09 AM
http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg



For a moment all is still as the Sons of Sam keep their eyes on the Agents around them while their leader takes stock of the situation and looks the one man eyed man over with obvious disdain.

"I don't know who you are warrior." he hisses "and that makes you either remarkably unimportant or incredibly important. Either way, you will not stop me."

The Shield agents suddenly find themselves being struck by an unseen force that knocks several of them and slams several more into the passage walls.

Even Fury is tossed backwards, dazed, and feeling like he had just run into a brick wall, but he gathers his wits and raises his weapon just in time to watch the terrorist leader fade into invisibility.

"Kill them." he instructs his men as he disappears and his men oblige by grabbing up their weapons and firing away.


http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg


With his men serving as a distraction, the still invisible terrorist leader makes his way through the subteranean tunnels.

Only when he arrives at his destination, a sub basement directly under the Press Room, does he drop he once again become visible.

He looks over his shoulder and briefly wonders how his men are faring, then pushes the thought aside. The men are expendable, no more important than dogs; and they have been conditioned to seek death before surrender.

The men were unimportant. What mattered was the the Sons of Sam succeed in eliminating the Secretary of Defence on live television. Such a brazen attack, carried out within the heart of the Pentagon, would strike fear into even the bravest of American hearts and push the American military machine further into the bosom of Madripoor's weaponsmiths.

The terrorist leader was pracitcally salivating in anticaption as he pulled a small explosive device from within his belt and gave it one final inspection.

The bomb's design was of Skrullian origin, its miniture plasma core being the source of the explosive force released when it detonated; and would easily blow through the hardened bomb proof ceiling above his head and to the stage and podium beyong.

As he fastened the small device to the ceiling the man could not help but smile. The humans assumed that no explosive small enough to be snuck into the small room could possibly harm the magistrates above. Their arrogance, their belief in their own technological prowess; it would have been sickening if it wasn't making his work so easy.

With the device now planted, the man presses a small green button, activating it and turns to leave.

bkhedr
07-02-2010, 05:35 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg



New York

Near the back of one of the city's countless jazz bars sits the man called Victor Shade. A single bottle of beer, seemingly forgotten about, sits on the table in front of him, while he taps his foot in time with the beat of the on stage's band's bass line.

The waitress, Sally, approaches him and smiles.

"Still nursing that one Vic?"

"Oh?" he says looking up at her then down at the bottle before smiling back "I am sorry Sally. I guess I was lost in the music. I am fine thank you."

"You just let me know if you need anything ok?" Sally replies before making her way to another table.

Victor's eyes follow her for a moment but then he turns his attention back to the band on stage.

Shade has been coming to this bar, the Red Rooster, nearly every night for past two weeks. Watching the people, listening to the music, but generally keeping to himself. For though he appears to be enthralled by the music and the musc alone, the truth is that no less than one third of his processing power has been wholly devoted to the search for the Ultron intelligence, or to be more precise, for a mysterious man known only as the Red Ghost. A man who, according to the information provided by Captain America, may well be able to lead him to that which he seeks.

But the trail is cold, the Red Ghost a hard man to find. And with the WidowMaker, Karpov, and now HAMMER actively searching for him and Ultron, Shade is well aware of the need to cover his tracks, to not reveal anything to anyone sifting through the data stream. It is an arduos task, but Shade is nothing if not patient, and with a newly discovered love of the intricacies and subtelties of Jazz music to tide him over, he is prepared to bid his time.

The band, a local act calling themselves Cool Train, finish a finish to the sound of scattered cheering and Victor claps politely from his seat before the band starts its next song.

At the bar, Sally pours herself a fountain Cola and leans against the counter sipping it from a straw and dreamily eyeing Victor.

*****

Elsewhere/Elsewhen:

Fires burn here. Fires fueled by human flesh and hair and skin. Screams and the sounds of crunching bone and tearing ligaments are the only sounds that accompany the licking of the flames.

At least those are the only other sounds that Simon Williams has heard since he arrived here. He can not remember how long he has been here but it feels like eternity. He can not move, can not speak and nothing seems real but the pain.

He is dimly aware, as if through a fog, that his brother, Eric is here too, right beside him, so close that it feels like they could reach other, escape together, but whenever he tries to reach his brother all he feels is a hate that saps his spirit, drains his will, such as it is, and he surrenders himself to the flames once more.

Now suddenly there is a new sound in this hellish place, a laughing, a hideous, terrifying cackle of laugh that makes Simon pray for oblivion.

But oblivion does not come this day. Instead the laughing grows louder until it is as if it is directly on top of him and then he hears words spoken as if through a flame.

"Now is the time mortals. I paid much for your souls and now I will have the return on my investment. Come Simon and Eric Williams. Come forth and be remade."

And though the spoken words themselves indicate no malice, Simon can feel himself shudder and shake in terror of what is to come and as he blacks out he thinks he can just barely make out a face, a fearsome visage, emerging from the wall of flames.


http://photos.ifmagazine.com/graphics/features_movie/mephisto.jpg



http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


"I will ask you one more time." The Vision said as the man before him slumped to the floor of the alley.

The rain was pouring heavily and it made an odd pattering noise as it landed on the synthezoid's hardened plastic form while the darkness of the night made his red face appear all the more menacing.

The man grimaced in fear and raised his hands defensively but the Vision remained impassive as he bent at the knees and took a hold of the man by the collar then raised him up and slammed him against the brick wall.

"Where is the Red Ghost?"

"Oh god! I don't know!" the man yelped

"You are lying." The Vision growled

"Please, I don't even know what you're talking abou-"

KRAK

A plastic fist smashes into the wall, mere inches from the man's head and comes away with bits of broken brick and dust trailing behind it.

"Do not waste my time Edward Handal. I know that the Red Ghost is somewhere in this city and that you are his errand boy. What I do not know is where he is exactly."

"Please man, please..."

"Now you are going tell me what I want to know" The Vision continues, ignoring the man's pleas "because it is a simple matter for me to analyze your voice, your heart rate, and your stress levels."

The syntehzoid leaned in close and unblinkingly stared the man in the eyes

"Everytime you lie I will know you have lied to me, and if you do not start telling me the truth soon." the vision raised an intangible hand and rammed into the brick wall causing Edward to yelp in shock "You will find out that I am not a patient individual."

sabetoonth
07-02-2010, 02:03 PM
http://img138.imageshack.us/img138/5818/cdbanner.jpg

Ivan had been working since he had returned with the plans for the Harbingers.

Browsing a junk yard he managed to find parts of a Harbinger that wouldn’t be found by someone not looking for it.

“How much you want for this scrap?” Ivan asked the scrap dealer with the Harbinger hidden amongst other scrap.

“Ehh $100 should do buddy.” He hardly even glanced at the pile of scrap Ivan had collected.

Back at the workshop Ivan began taking the Harbinger apart; the next part would be more difficult. Constructing it as a complete unit. Plans or no plans time was not there to be wasted, Vanko set to work immediately, piecing every part together just as the blue prints said. He started just before the sun was down, and as it came up the following morning the Harbinger was completed. The green glow of its arc reactor heart illuminating the warehouse lab.
http://img594.imageshack.us/img594/8725/harbinger.jpg
“Tonight, I will make ‘God’ Bleed.” Ivan wiped the beads of perspiration from his brow, inhaling deeply and setting himself back to work now not only deconstructing the Harbinger, but integrating it into his Dynamo armor.
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/40/1149562-14.jpg

Mr. Majestic
07-03-2010, 02:00 AM
The wagon ride back to the mansion was soundless, one and all trapped in their own thoughts or simply dwelling on the thought they they’ve been beat twice in a few days. Once by Victor’s Marauders, once by these Reavers who in all honesty hadn’t won, but they’d let them flee. Haller was going to be chewing asses and ripping new ones. As they got off the truck each person dispersed to their own business, they would get a call when the Reavers and Logan showed up again.
As he wandered into the large domicile Victor looked back at Calvin, the kid needed to sharpen up his skills, be able to fight like a tiger, or a monkey. He needed to know more then brawling.
“Hey Calvin, meet me in the Danger Room in a few minutes.” He said as he headed to the kitchen and Calvin came through the entry. This kid was going to learn, adapt, or get his ass kicked. But that was after Victor had eaten a sandwich.

I knob my head as I hear Victor’s request to join him later in the training quarters. After what took place today I more than understand why. Since I’ve been a member here I really haven’t held my own weight. I didn’t even really get a chance to set my self in before they had me fighting. Guess that really no excuse, with my abilities I should be handling my self a lot better. I assume that why I’m heading to the danger room.

I enter the danger room and stand against the wall waiting for sabretooth to join me.

Andy C.
07-03-2010, 03:33 AM
FURY


With his men serving as a distraction, the still invisible terrorist leader makes his way through the subteranean tunnels.

Only when he arrives at his destination, a sub basement directly under the Press Room, does he drop he once again become visible.

He looks over his shoulder and briefly wonders how his men are faring, then pushes the thought aside. The men are expendable, no more important than dogs; and they have been conditioned to seek death before surrender.

The men were unimportant. What mattered was the the Sons of Sam succeed in eliminating the Secretary of Defence on live television. Such a brazen attack, carried out within the heart of the Pentagon, would strike fear into even the bravest of American hearts and push the American military machine further into the bosom of Madripoor's weaponsmiths.

The terrorist leader was pracitcally salivating in anticaption as he pulled a small explosive device from within his belt and gave it one final inspection.

The bomb's design was of Skrullian origin, its miniture plasma core being the source of the explosive force released when it detonated; and would easily blow through the hardened bomb proof ceiling above his head and to the stage and podium beyong.

As he fastened the small device to the ceiling the man could not help but smile. The humans assumed that no explosive small enough to be snuck into the small room could possibly harm the magistrates above. Their arrogance, their belief in their own technological prowess; it would have been sickening if it wasn't making his work so easy.

With the device now planted, the man presses a small green button, activating it and turns to leave.

The terrorist leader turned, only to walk right into the downward swing of Nick Fury's pistol-whip, the butt of the gun slamming hard into the bridge of the man's nose.

The old man wasn't able to follow the attacker there, what with his ability to become invisible, so such an extent that he was even able to avoid detection on SHIELD's state-of-the-art thermal sensor. But then, Fury didn't need to follow his enemy, because he had already determined the location. All he had to do was beat the enemy there....and having memorized every corner of the Pentagon like the back of his hand, the Director knew more than a few shortcuts.

Once he had arrived, it was just a matter of activating his defenses and waiting for the leader of the Sons of Sam to let his guard down.

"Plant a bomb a floor down from the target," the Director said to his opponent, who was staggered from the blow but still stood. "The North Koreans tried that with Reagan back in '86. It didn't work then, either."

Fury eyed the small device that had been planted on the ceiling.

"There's not a whole lot of firepower on Earth that can punch through the floors of the Pentagon with such a small package," he said. "Then again, there aren't a whole lot of people on Earth who can create force-fields and turn invisible, either."

The old man produced a curvy metallic object from one of the pouches in his utility harness and pressed a point along it. The room filled with a deadly hum, a translucent layer of blueish energy spreading along the walls and ceiling, eventually encasing the entire room.

"Back in 1977, a race called the Shi'ar decided to take Earth as a strategic foothold for their own empire. We had an awful lot of trouble penetrating these particle shields they used, since any form of matter or energy that passed through them would just dissipate on contact. Eventually we threw them back, and kept some of their technology for ourselves...for just such an occasion."

Fury circled the leader of the Sons of Sam, one hand still holding the Shi'ar artifact, the other drawing his pistol from its holster.

"You set off that bomb and the only person you kill is yourself," he said, something of a half-truth in his statement. While the old man might be caught in the blast as well, the truth of SHIELD was that Nick Fury could never truly die. "Now how about you deactivate it, and start telling me some things about yourself. Starting with your real name, and your planet of origin."

sabetoonth
07-04-2010, 03:05 AM
http://img138.imageshack.us/img138/5818/cdbanner.jpg
The sparks had not been lighting the air for an hour. The drone and suit where both complete; a hybrid of original Crimson Dynamo and the Harbinger Iron Men unit, with what he could desert from his photographs of the Peacekeepers. He would take flight soon enough.


[Last Night of the Stark Expo: Main Plaza]


Ivan soared through the air; he nearly had the target in sight. Destroy the Expo and show that America has reason to fear, even with Iron Men in the army, and an Iron Man in a suit.


Below the people at the expo saw his repulsor trail. They bent their heads
up to see the object.


With a clank the armor landed with a fist in the earth, another object flew overhead. Standing straight up in the Plaza Vanko looked around.


“You come from families of thieves, and butchers,” Ivan began, firing a repulsor blast into a crowd and another at a support column. “And like all guilty men and women, you try to rewrite your history, to forget all the lives America has destroyed.” He powered up another repulsor as he scanned the crowds for his main target: Tony Stark.

Attack nameless civilians, blow up a building, you will be nearly forgotten after years of no activity. Destroy a public figure, like the owner and CEO of a multi-million dollar company and you will not be forgotten, they have become as presidents. Their assassins never forgotten, their deaths inspiring fear into the people, telling them they are not safe.

"No one is safe from the Crimson Dynamo!"
http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/5/57667/1184923-crimson_dynamo__3_.jpg

Eddie Brock
07-04-2010, 12:53 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

BOOOOOOOM!

A nearby explosion rocks the hotel ballroom, making me spill my martini. Everyone present at the party looks around nervously. I glance over at Happy and Pepper, who are just as scared and confused as everyone else. Millie clears her throat in an attempt to sound casual, but her voice is still wavering when she asks, "Is there a fireworks show or something tonight?"

I don't bother to respond. There are no fireworks.

BOOOOOOOM!

Making my way through the crowd, I finally reach a window. Peering out in the direction of the Expo grounds, I see flashes of light, followed by fiery explosions. Apparently, I'm not the only one who sees this because the room erupts into a terrified frenzy. People scream as they drop their drinks and stumble hurriedly for the exits.

"Obadiah!" I shout over the crowd when I spot my business partner. He rushes over to me, and I ask, "Are the Peacemakers operational?"

"They should be," he answers.

I pause. I can't believe I'm going to say this. "Activate them," I order.

Obadiah nods and races off.

"Tony, what do we do?" Millie asks suddenly, catching me a little by surprise. She grabs my arm nervously, and I only wish I had the time to comfort her. Unfortunately, I need to deal with this situation.

"Happy, take Ms. Collins to my room," I announce as my assistant approaches. "Stay with her there until this clears up. Pepper, with me." Pepper takes one last look at Happy before walking over to stand next to me.

"What about you, Tony?"

"This is my Expo. It's my responsibility," I explain. I nod to Happy, and he throws his arm over Millie and starts to lead her out of the ballroom. Turning on my heels, I walk briskly with Pepper. "Where is it?" I ask simply.

"In the parking garage, like you requested," Pepper reports.

***

Pepper and I reach the top level of the parking garage, which is all but abandoned - save for one unmarked, white van. Reaching into her handbag, Pepper presents a small key and walks ahead of me to the back door of the van. Unlocking it, she throws the doors open wide as I step inside.

The Mark III armor. Designed for emergency use only. I believe this particular situation fits that description. The Mark III is designed to be assembled quickly, which unfortunately means a downgrade in armor dexterity. The weapons system is a little more streamlined, consisted of little more than repulsor beams and an emergency unibeam.

In what seems like no time flat, Pepper has helped me into the suit. The pieces snap together cleanly, automated systems speeding up the process a bit. Once the faceplate locks into place, the HUD lights up as the suit comes online.

"Impeccable timing as always, sir. I was just in the middle of cleansing my databases," Jarvis announces sarcastically.

"The Expo is under attack, Jarvis," I explain.

"By whom?"

"I'm hoping you can tell me."

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/0/7612/285602-136487-iron-man.jpg

I fly over the Main Plaza, scanning the attacker from above.

"Sir, I'm afraid to report that this weapon matches no known records."

"Well, then, let's just ask him ourselves!"

Turning sharply, I dive down and drive my fists into the back of the attacker.

sabetoonth
07-04-2010, 01:12 PM
http://img138.imageshack.us/img138/5818/cdbanner.jpg
Something attacks Ivan from behind, he stagers forward, in the armor. Turning around he sees the Iron Man who isnt supposed to have anything to do with Stark Industries.


“Iron Man,” He starts amused at the hero’s appearance. “You have nothing to do with Stark industries they said.” He raised his left arm and fired up a repulsor blast, aiming for the chest of the intervening tin can. He ducks under it releasing a few repulsor blasts of his own. Vanko makes use of his legs as he runs at the Iron Man. "Now, you only be associated with a grave!"

Eddie Brock
07-04-2010, 08:42 PM
http://img138.imageshack.us/img138/5818/cdbanner.jpg
Something attacks Ivan from behind, he stagers forward, in the armor. Turning around he sees the Iron Man who isnt supposed to have anything to do with Stark Industries.


“Iron Man,” He starts amused at the hero’s appearance. “You have nothing to do with Stark industries they said.” He raised his left arm and fired up a repulsor blast, aiming for the chest of the intervening tin can. He ducks under it releasing a few repulsor blasts of his own. Vanko makes use of his legs as he runs at the Iron Man. "Now, you only be associated with a grave!"
That voice isn't automated. It's a synthesized human voice. And that means that I'm not fighting a drone. I'm fighting a person in a suit. Prior to this weekend, Pepper and I were the only people in the world to crack the drone/suit conversion. Now, between the Patriot and this guy, I'm noticing a very slippery trend. And I can't help but feel somewhat responsible.

"Stark Industries doesn't concern me," I bluff, bouncing away from this guy's charge, "And neither do you." I fire a repulsor blast into his back, and it looks so harmless that I imagine it probably only tickled. This is not good.

"Sir, the Peacemakers are online," Jarvis reports. Five little dots appear on my radar, coming up from the rear. While I may not have agreed with their creation, I can only hope Obadiah and his engineers didn't cut any corners. With the limited capabilities of the Mark III, I'm going to need all the help I can get.

The attacker turns in time to see my fist coming for his helmet. There's a resounding clank of metal on metal, and for a second it looks like I may have made him flinch. But surely nothing more than that. "So you know why I'm here, but who are you? What's your deal?"

sabetoonth
07-04-2010, 11:19 PM
That voice isn't automated. It's a synthesized human voice. And that means that I'm not fighting a drone. I'm fighting a person in a suit. Prior to this weekend, Pepper and I were the only people in the world to crack the drone/suit conversion. Now, between the Patriot and this guy, I'm noticing a very slippery trend. And I can't help but feel somewhat responsible.

"Stark Industries doesn't concern me," I bluff, bouncing away from this guy's charge, "And neither do you." I fire a repulsor blast into his back, and it looks so harmless that I imagine it probably only tickled. This is not good.

"Sir, the Peacemakers are online," Jarvis reports. Five little dots appear on my radar, coming up from the rear. While I may not have agreed with their creation, I can only hope Obadiah and his engineers didn't cut any corners. With the limited capabilities of the Mark III, I'm going to need all the help I can get.

The attacker turns in time to see my fist coming for his helmet. There's a resounding clank of metal on metal, and for a second it looks like I may have made him flinch. But surely nothing more than that. "So you know why I'm here, but who are you? What's your deal?"

“Me? I am the Crimson Dynamo, Ivan Vanko, one of the many people whose life America has destroyed.” Ivan said, not hiding his Russian accent. “And if Stark does not concern you, good timing getting here from your base of operations.” Vanko threw his fist at the smaller suited man who proceeded to take flight over into the vender behind him.

Picking up five dots on his radar Ivan gave the new Dynamo drone the command to engage.

“Your armor not so powerful.” Ivan said as he turned the repulsor thrusters in his suits legs on and taking flight to meet the intruding units. The Peacemakers had been activated and he was going to engage.

Meeting with a heavy clank as he made contact with a Peacemaker Ivan quickly used his hands to crush the units head and blow out the insides from the hole in the neck hence created. The husk of metal and technology fell to earth as another charged into him from behind. Wrestling in air and loosing altitude Vanko forced his knee into the machine to separate them. The Dynamo Drone engaged in fierce combat over head with the other Iron Man units, smashing and crashing together with the sounds of clanking metal and tearing steel.

Ivan and the Peacemaker he was engaged with crashed through the roof of parking garage. Ivan charged the unit full force exchanging repulsor shots taking a few to the chest of the suit and slowing him down. But in the end the Crimson Dynamo thrust its shoulder into the Peacemaker taking a punch o the face and a repulsor as well, temporarily blinded from the flash Ivan swung his arms, knocking the unit through the barrier into the ground two stories bellow.

“Nice Iron Men Stark, where ever you are.” He jumped down onto the Peacemakers chest caving it in. “But I make a better drone, and a better suit.” Ivan stepped off of the mechanical corpse looking for the Iron Man.

“Don’t tell me you’ve run away Iron Man!” Vanko boasted as he took ground shots at the other Peacemakers in the air. “I am just getting started!"

Eddie Brock
07-04-2010, 11:53 PM
“Me? I am the Crimson Dynamo, Ivan Vanko, one of the many people whose life America has destroyed.” Ivan said, not hiding his Russian accent. “And if Stark does not concern you, good timing getting here from your base of operations.” Vanko threw his fist at the smaller suited man who proceeded to take flight over into the vender behind him.

Picking up five dots on his radar Ivan gave the new Dynamo drone the command to engage.

“Your armor not so powerful.” Ivan said as he turned the repulsor thrusters in his suits legs on and taking flight to meet the intruding units. The Peacemakers had been activated and he was going to engage.

Meeting with a heavy clank as he made contact with a Peacemaker Ivan quickly used his hands to crush the units head and blow out the insides from the hole in the neck hence created. The husk of metal and technology fell to earth as another charged into him from behind. Wrestling in air and loosing altitude Vanko forced his knee into the machine to separate them. The Dynamo Drone engaged in fierce combat over head with the other Iron Man units, smashing and crashing together with the sounds of clanking metal and tearing steel.

Ivan and the Peacemaker he was engaged with crashed through the roof of parking garage. Ivan charged the unit full force exchanging repulsor shots taking a few to the chest of the suit and slowing him down. But in the end the Crimson Dynamo thrust its shoulder into the Peacemaker taking a punch o the face and a repulsor as well, temporarily blinded from the flash Ivan swung his arms, knocking the unit through the barrier into the ground two stories bellow.

“Nice Iron Men Stark, where ever you are.” He jumped down onto the Peacemakers chest caving it in. “But I make a better drone, and a better suit.” Ivan stepped off of the mechanical corpse looking for the Iron Man.

“Don’t tell me you’ve run away Iron Man!” Vanko boasted as he took ground shots at the other Peacemakers in the air. “I am just getting started!"
"Quite unexpected of him to spill his life story there," Jarvis remarks.

The Mark III is just recovering from Dynamo's hit. I was purposefully a bit slow in getting up, allowing all the systems to return to normal. It's going to take a lot more than that to keep me down. Unfortunately, it looks like Dynamo might just have what it takes. "Yeah, well, that just means he has nothing to fear," I reply. "Which either makes him dangerously overconfident or just plain dangerous."

I check the radar. Two of the five Peacemaker units are already disabled. That's disappointing. There's another bogey that I haven't identified - no doubt associated with Dynamo.

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere," I announce as I step up to face Dynamo once more. "Jarvis, charge unibeam to full power."

"Sir, if you fire the unibeam, all systems will need to reboot," Jarvis warns. "You will be momentarily defenseless."

"I know the risks! Just do it!" I bark. The Mark III's unibeam will drain it of all power. There will be about a five second window in which the suit will shut down and restart. If the unibeam doesn't take Dynamo out, that leaves him plenty of time to get a free shot on me. But in this case, it's worth taking my licks to gauge just how powerful this guy is.

Without further protest from Jarvis, my chestpiece begins to hum and glow. "As for my response time, you can thank a 24-hour satellite uplink and Mach 3 flight," I lie. Dynamo begins to charge at me when suddenly, the unibeam fires. For a moment, everything goes white with pure energy. I close my eyes, praying desperately that this works.

sabetoonth
07-05-2010, 02:06 AM
"Quite unexpected of him to spill his life story there," Jarvis remarks.

The Mark III is just recovering from Dynamo's hit. I was purposefully a bit slow in getting up, allowing all the systems to return to normal. It's going to take a lot more than that to keep me down. Unfortunately, it looks like Dynamo might just have what it takes. "Yeah, well, that just means he has nothing to fear," I reply. "Which either makes him dangerously overconfident or just plain dangerous."

I check the radar. Two of the five Peacemaker units are already disabled. That's disappointing. There's another bogey that I haven't identified - no doubt associated with Dynamo.

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere," I announce as I step up to face Dynamo once more. "Jarvis, charge unibeam to full power."

"Sir, if you fire the unibeam, all systems will need to reboot," Jarvis warns. "You will be momentarily defenseless."

"I know the risks! Just do it!" I bark. The Mark III's unibeam will drain it of all power. There will be about a five second window in which the suit will shut down and restart. If the unibeam doesn't take Dynamo out, that leaves him plenty of time to get a free shot on me. But in this case, it's worth taking my licks to gauge just how powerful this guy is.

Without further protest from Jarvis, my chestpiece begins to hum and glow. "As for my response time, you can thank a 24-hour satellite uplink and Mach 3 flight," I lie. Dynamo begins to charge at me when suddenly, the unibeam fires. For a moment, everything goes white with pure energy. I close my eyes, praying desperately that this works.

The Iron Man fires a large repulsor uni-beam from his chest which blinds Ivan for a few seconds again, but he keeps going not knowing if the Iron Man has moved out of the way of his rhino charge.

“Mach 3? Impressive flight speed.” Ivan remarked. “And satellite uplink? Must have friends in high places.” His vision returned Crimson Dynamo searched for his quarry. He found it, limp on the ground as if he where turned off or the wearer abandoned it. Ivan picked up the metal rag doll.

“Uni-beam took a lot out of you eh?” He said tightening his grip, “This going to hurt you lot more then it will me.” Ivan began to squeeze the Iron Man. “Now the world will know America is not invincible."

Eddie Brock
07-05-2010, 02:44 AM
The Iron Man fires a large repulsor uni-beam from his chest which blinds Ivan for a few seconds again, but he keeps going not knowing if the Iron Man has moved out of the way of his rhino charge.

“Mach 3? Impressive flight speed.” Ivan remarked. “And satellite uplink? Must have friends in high places.” His vision returned Crimson Dynamo searched for his quarry. He found it, limp on the ground as if he where turned off or the wearer abandoned it. Ivan picked up the metal rag doll.

“Uni-beam took a lot out of you eh?” He said tightening his grip, “This going to hurt you lot more then it will me.” Ivan began to squeeze the Iron Man. “Now the world will know America is not invincible."
One, one-thousand. Crimson Dynamo picks me up, and I'm practically powerless to resist. Knowing that flailing wildly would accomplish nothing, I save my energy. Two, one-thousand. I can hear my armor crunching. The Mark III was not designed to sustain this kind of pressure. Three, one-thousand. I'm watching Dynamo through the hollow eyes on my helmet. The unibeam left a mark, but clearly he's still standing. Four, one-thousand. With no radar, I can't figure out how the Peacemakers are doing.

Five, one-thousand.

My HUD blinks to life as power is restored to the suit.

WARNING: STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED.

With power restored, I'm able to put up a fight. As the suit's outer shell begins to cave in, I force myself free of Dynamo's grasp. I deliver a kick - partnered with a repulsor blast from my boot - to Dynamo's helmet before putting some distance between us again.

"Sir, the Mark III cannot continue to operate under these conditions. Armor dexterity is down 78%."

Ignoring Jarvis's warning, I plant my feet and aim both repulsors at Dynamo. "Hey, Vanko! You talk too much." I rattle off a quick succession of alternating repulsor blasts, knocking Dynamo off-balance. Running up to him, I jump into the air and slam my fist down against his chestplate. To my amazement, the glass over his powercore cracks, and his armor is dented.

I've still got some fight left.

sabetoonth
07-05-2010, 07:16 PM
One, one-thousand. Crimson Dynamo picks me up, and I'm practically powerless to resist. Knowing that flailing wildly would accomplish nothing, I save my energy. Two, one-thousand. I can hear my armor crunching. The Mark III was not designed to sustain this kind of pressure. Three, one-thousand. I'm watching Dynamo through the hollow eyes on my helmet. The unibeam left a mark, but clearly he's still standing. Four, one-thousand. With no radar, I can't figure out how the Peacemakers are doing.

Five, one-thousand.

My HUD blinks to life as power is restored to the suit.

WARNING: STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED.


With power restored, I'm able to put up a fight. As the suit's outer shell begins to cave in, I force myself free of Dynamo's grasp. I deliver a kick - partnered with a repulsor blast from my boot - to Dynamo's helmet before putting some distance between us again.



"Sir, the Mark III cannot continue to operate under these conditions. Armor dexterity is down 78%."



Ignoring Jarvis's warning, I plant my feet and aim both repulsors at Dynamo. "Hey, Vanko! You talk too much." I rattle off a quick succession of alternating repulsor blasts, knocking Dynamo off-balance. Running up to him, I jump into the air and slam my fist down against his chestplate. To my amazement, the glass over his powercore cracks, and his armor is dented.



I've still got some fight left.




Astonished at being knocked over by the Iron Man hero, Vanko throws a punch with the suits gigantic fist knocking his opponent off of him.

“Some might say that is a good thing.” Ivan ran up to the damaged suit and gave it a swift kick.he looked at his own HUD and noticed the damage done to the chest plate by the punch seconds ago.

“Maybe you better oponnent then I thought.” Ivan raised both hands and charged the repulsor blasts, letting them fire as he punched the small interloper in his plans.

“You know, if genius Russian scientist working with scrap can construct a suit, others not far behind in doing the same.” He felt the hit as the Iron Man dropped kicked him with a repulsor blast and he stumbled back. Ivan aimed a small missile in the arm at his obstacle.

“Harbinger plans helped, and where easier to get then i thought!”

Eddie Brock
07-05-2010, 09:05 PM
Araña

With an exaggerated groan, I toss my backpack onto my bedroom floor. I take a few drawn-out steps before spinning and flopping onto my bed. There isn't a single part of my body which isn't sore. Soccer practice was Hell today because we have a big match coming up this weekend against Midtown. Then, to make matters worse, I was reminded that we have a biology test tomorrow.

Biology. Ugh.

After a few moments of laying on my bed, trying to imagine a world without tests, I finally give a defeated sigh. On the bright side, Ted - as usual - offered to help me study. I get up slowly and trudge to my computer, jiggling the mouse to wake up the monitor.

miss_corazon is now available.
miss_corazon: yt?
NightElfMage42: yeah. how was practice?
miss_corazon: ugh...murder. nina hates midtown
NightElfMage42: cant say i blame her
miss_corazon: w/e theyre not that bad
NightElfMage42: if you say so
miss_corazon: so what chap are gonna be on this test?
NightElfMage42: 5-8. got your book?
miss_corazon: in my bag h/o

Spinning in my chair, I roll it over to where my backpack was so dramatically discarded. I unzip the bag, finding Nina's green scarf sitting on top. She lent me it over the winter, and I forgot it in my locker. I toss the scarf onto my bed, making a mental note to return it to her tomorrow. I reach into my bag when there's a sudden sharp sting in my finger.

"Ow!"

Quickly pulling my hand out of the backpack, I see that my finger is bleeding. I hold it gingerly, wiping away the blood to see a clean cut straight across my fingertip. Looking into my bag, I see tiny pieces of glass.

"What the Heck?"

With my other hand, I carefully push my books aside until I find the source of my cut. A jagged piece of broken glass. Pulling it out slowly, I notice that it looks like a test tube or something. The glass is stained with some kind of blue liquid, which is also splattered all across my books. As I turn the glass over in my hand, I see a small label.

PPSM-AF15

Whatever that means.

I take out my biology textbook, which was also victim to this blue stuff. My finger begins to burn, so I just toss the textbook onto the floor. Some of the blue stuff has gotten into my cut. I better wash it out.

miss_corazon: h/o i just cut myself
NightElfMage42: you know, there are support groups for that
miss_corazon: shut up, u kno wat i mean
NightElfMage42: hahaha
miss_corazon: i gotta clean this up. u gonna be on all nite?
NightElfMage42: prob
miss_corazon: alrite raincheck on the studying
miss_corazon is away.

Eddie Brock
07-05-2010, 09:52 PM
Astonished at being knocked over by the Iron Man hero, Vanko throws a punch with the suits gigantic fist knocking his opponent off of him.

“Some might say that is a good thing.” Ivan ran up to the damaged suit and gave it a swift kick.he looked at his own HUD and noticed the damage done to the chest plate by the punch seconds ago.

“Maybe you better oponnent then I thought.” Ivan raised both hands and charged the repulsor blasts, letting them fire as he punched the small interloper in his plans.

“You know, if genius Russian scientist working with scrap can construct a suit, others not far behind in doing the same.” He felt the hit as the Iron Man dropped kicked him with a repulsor blast and he stumbled back. Ivan aimed a small missile in the arm at his obstacle.

“Harbinger plans helped, and where easier to get then i thought!”
Underneath my helmet, I arch an eyebrow. It's possible that Vanko is bluffing, but I doubt it. There's no reason for it. "Jarvis, get me a complete scan of the Crimson Dynamo and cross-reference with known specifications for the Harbinger line." Moments later, a three-dimensional rendering of the Crimson Dynamo takes up the center of my HUD. Several key locations are highlighted. "Damn."

The Crimson Dynamo shares design elements with the Harbingers. This certainly explains its bulkiness. It also reaffirms how severe this proliferation problem is. Vanko makes a good point. He's just the first of many if I don't get this under control. It was a mistake to agree to putting this problem aside for the Expo.

INCOMING MISSILE!

Acting on reflex, I raise my repulsor and fire a quick blast. The resulting shockwave from the missile's explosion knocks me off my feet, and I land on my back with a metallic thud. I don't know that the Mark III would have survived a direct hit like that.

Dynamo charges once again, and my HUD highlights his damaged chestplate. It's his only exploitable weakness at the moment. I fire a repulsor blast at his chest, and the protective covering over his powercore completely shatters. Dynamo also stumbles a bit, allowing me to avoid his charge.

Hopping to my feet, I grab Dynamo by the waist and tackle him to the ground. I charge a repulsor blast, but a strong punch from Dynamo sends me flying through the air. "You're probably right, Vanko. There will be others. And I will deal with them like I'm going to deal with you."

Andy C.
07-05-2010, 11:43 PM
With his shield strapped to his back and a rifle in his hands, Captain America takes the lead on the bumrush to the castle. The crack of Dugan's sniper rifle fills the air. In a short amount of time, all the sentries were either dead or seriously wounded. Coming to a stop at the castle gates, Rogers waited for the rest of the Howling Commandos to reach him.

"You know your jobs. Cohen, Jones, you two are on point. Here we go, covering fire on three. One, two-"

The side of the castle wall exploded, covering the troops in brick and mortar dust.

A giant man dressed as an SS officer grabbed Rogers by his collar and swung him into the castle. The other man, the one crackling with electricity, stepped through the hole and began attacking the Howling Commandos with bolts of electricty.

"Hello, little man," the giant man said as he slammed Rogers against the wall. "I am Crossbones. I take you to Herr Skull."

Picking himself off the ground, Captain America pulled his shield off his back and charged Crossbones.

"Over my dead body, buddy!"

Using his shield as a battering ram, Rogers slammed into Crossbones. The giant man absorbed the super-soldier's blow, grabbing him around the waist and tossing him into the far wall where he smacked against the bricks hard.

"Dead body? No, he will not accept that.. But a broken body? I can work with."

While Captain America dealt with the man who called himself 'Crossbones,' Colonel Fury and the Howling Commandos dived for cover, the second Nazi super-soldier lashing out with bolts of electricity.

"Stay away from anything metallic!" Fury shouted over the loud and angry buzzing of the electric blasts. "The last thing you need is to get fried because you took cover behind a conductor!"

Heeding the Colonel's advice, the Commandos took their positions behind the stone wall of the castle, or the shattered rubble of the German defensive works.

Izzy Cohen popped up from behind his cover to fire off a few rounds from his Garand, which panged uselessly against the metallic plates covering the man's body. The Nazi returned fire, obliterating the pile of rubble that the young Jewish soldier had been hiding behind, knocking Cohen off his feet and out into the open.

"COVERING FIRE!" Fury yelled the order. The Howling Commandos all rose up and peppered the electrified monster with automatic and rifle fire, causing him to stagger back as Cohen scrambled back to his feet and behind cover again. A few rounds struck the man in between his armored plates, but didn't seem to have much of any effect.

"You good, Cohen?!" the Colonel called out.

"Good here, Fury!" he responded.

"We gotta get past this big'un, Colonel," Ralston stated the obvious. "While we're pinned down here, we're about as useless as tits on a bull!"

"Well aware of the situation, Rebel," Colonel Fury said, pulling a grenade from its pouch. "Now DUCK AND COVER!"

He rose from his cover just long enough to fling the grenade towards the Nazi, before taking a bolt of lightning to the chest himself, knocking the Colonel off his feet.

Fury's senses swam for a moment, everything blurry and the noise around him muffled and slurred. Dazed from the electrical shock, he was only barely able to register the deafening BOOM! from his grenade a few seconds later.





"....-ury.....Colonel Fury, sir!.....Colonel Fury! Can you hear me!"

The voice of the British Commando Percy Pinkerton finally brought Fury out of his daze.

"I'm here. What's the sit-rep?"

"Area's clear, sir. That grenade of yours did the trick on the electric bloke. I'm afraid that we've lost track of Captain America and the other big chap. What are our orders, sir?"

Fury stood to his feet, dusted himself off, then kept marching forward like nothing had even happened.

"We continue the mission. Koenig, you're taking point. Take us to Dr. Zola."

Eddie Brock
07-06-2010, 12:31 AM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

Ever since seeing my wife's lifeless body, I've been haunted by vivid visions of dead faces. Men, women, and children alike. Every race, every ethnicity. I also keep picturing distant locations, foreign countries, and shadowy hallways. There are people I feel like I'm supposed to recognize, but I just don't know why. It always seems to end the same way: with a one-eyed man, smoking a cigar. Who is he?

"Frank, I'm going to do everything I can for you, but you need to be upfront with me."

Jeryn Hogarth. My appointed legal counsel. Once a very successful business lawyer working for a handful of profitable Fortune 500 companies, he ended up losing it all. He turned to business law and has been defending clients ever since. I once asked him if he felt guilty about defending guilty men, to which he told me, "I don't defend the guilty."

Hogarth adjusts his tie. He's nervous. The prosecution's putting together a nice little case. It wouldn't be the first time that a cop caved under the pressure and shot up his family. The only problem is that I didn't do that.

"I have to ask you again: where were you on the night your family was killed?"

I haven't told a soul about the truth. I don't know why. It seems strange to be defending my reputation when I'm accused of being a murderer, but part of me was too ashamed to speak up. But when I look into Hogarth's eyes this time, I see the desperation. "I was with a woman," I say simply.

Hogarth is taken aback. I've given him no indication that I ever planned on telling him the truth. "Oh. I see. Well, Frank, there's no point in beating yourself up over it now," he assures me. I don't feel very assured. "Lots of men on the force have trouble with intimacy."

"I loved my wife."

Nodding, Hogarth replies, "I know you did, Frank. But this is good. This woman can provide your alibi." He takes out a notepad and a pen. "What's her name?"

I hesitate. Too late to take it back now. "Joan Saint. Her name is Joan Saint."

***

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

Hogarth's message was short. "Meet at my office in twenty minutes." I didn't know what to expect, couldn't prepare myself for the bomb he was about to drop.

I walk into the office, and Hogarth is already there. "Did you talk to Joan?" I ask. "Is she going to corroborate my story?"

I'll never forget the look in his eyes. Like he saw a ghost.

"Joan Saint is dead, Frank." The news hits me like a bullet in the chest. "She just washed up in the Chicago River."

Words fail me. Joan is dead?

"Police are still investigating, but it looks like Joan had a history of going for the wrong kind of guy," Hogarth reports. "Few years back, she was working on the streets, dating her pimp."

Joan never told me that she used to turn tricks.

"He was the violent type, got himself busted," Hogarth continues. I slowly take a seat as I listen to the tragic story. "He just got out a few weeks ago. The police can't find him, but they think they've linked the murder weapon to him."

I have nothing to say. My family is dead. Joan is dead.

"Frank, I'm going to keep fighting for you, but without Joan we don't have much of a case."

The reality of the situation starts to seep in.

Byrd Man
07-06-2010, 01:21 AM
Midtown, Manhattan


Matt Murdock and Franklin "Foggy" Nelson ride the elevator in silence, both men dressed in tuxedos.

"I don't see why I had to come along," Matt says as he breaks the silence. It was true. His mind was elsewhere. It was on the street with his group. Even though he took the night off, the didn't. Mister Cage, Number Two, was running the show in his absence.

"You were my plus one. If this party is going to be used as chance to recruit potential clients, then we need both Nelson and Murdock to woo them. We're a team, you and I. Like Starsky and Hutch, Crockett and Tubbs, Turner and Hooch."

"So you couldn't find a dare?"

"Nope."

The elevator door slides open, revealing a penthouse that's been transformed into a grand ball room.

"Swanky place."

"I'll go ahead and take your word for it."

Matt and Foggy enter the packed ballroom, Foggy helping Matt navigate around guests.

"Where's the guy throwing this thing? Fisk?"

"Beats me. Probably not even at this damn party. Hold on, Matt. I think I see the mayor!"

Foggy runs off, leaving Matt in the middle of a pack of people. Using his cane, the blind lawyer starts to navigate through the room.

"Can I help you?" A woman in a red dress asks. Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight bun.

"No thanks. I can manage."

"Let me help you out. I'd feel real bad if I didn't."

"Fine. Want to help me out? Guide me to the food table."

The woman wraps her arm through Matt's, a move that surprises him. All his life, when he asked for help, people would try to lead him by grabbing hold of one hand and marching off as fast as they could. Some days he still had to remind Foggy that he wasn't a trailer you pulled behind you.

Together, they moved through the crowd arm in arm.

"So, what brings you to this grand gala, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'm an attorney. My co-worker got invited, so I'm his plus one."

"A blind attorney. Guess that gets sympathy when you're in front of a jury."

"They say justice is blind. Well, so am I."

"Sounds like you've used that one in court a time or two. You're a defense attorney?"

"No. We handle personal injury, will-writing, probate matters, any other things like that."

"Ahh, so you're an ambulance chaser."

"Not exactly. My partner does the chasing, I'm just in the car. For some reason, the State of New York won't let me get a driver's license. So, what's your story?"

"I'm actually a diplomat...of sorts. I'm the cultural attache to the Greece Embassy."

"You're Greek?"

"Half. My father was from Greece, mother was an American. I was born in America, but we moved to Greece when I was six. I have dual citizenship in both countries."

The woman stops as they reach atable with an assortment of food on it.

"Here we are. Fifth floor, finger foods, belts and socks, and assorted tools."

"Thank you for your help," Matt says as he pulls a card out of his jacket. "Here is my card. In case you need any legal help."

"I don't think I'll need legal help, what with diplomatic immunity and all....but I might need someone to take me to dinner sometime."

"Well, my fee is a hundred dollars an hour. It doubles after the sixth hour."

"Yikes. I have a card, too. I don't think it'd do much good."

"Give it to me anyway. I can get my friend to read it for me."

The woman nods and pulls a card out of her red purse.

"It was a pleasure meeting you. You know, you never gave me your name."

"Elektra Nachios. And your card says you're Matthew Murdock."

"Please, call me Matt, Miss Nachios."

"Only if you call me Elektra."

"It's a deal."

The two shake hands. "I have to go. Call me sometime about that dinner."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about me forgetting about that anytime soon."

"Bye."

Matt smiles as Elektra walks away. Holding her card in is hands, he places it inside his pocket and turns to the food table. Maybe leaving the Devils behind for one night wasn't that bad of an idea after all.

Andy C.
07-06-2010, 05:08 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif




"GONNA SQUASH YOU!!!!"

Rhino charges at me again, flailing with fists about the size of your average sedan.

"Not if you can't catch me!" I say as I dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge (great movie by the way), Spider-Senses telling me where O'Hirn's attacks are coming from long before they hit the pavement, kicking up debris and dust every time he makes contact.

This is not a situation that I'm enjoying here. Nothing I've been able to throw at this guy has even slowed him down, and the second he actually makes contact with those ridiculous fists or that nasty-looking horn, I'm gonna get turned into the Amazing Spider-Splat. There doesn't really look like any way this fight is going to end well for me.

And there's no way I'm going to just bail; if I can't hold Rhino off, the cops aren't going to stand a chance. Someone's got to buy some time for the folks from HAMMER or maybe that Iron Man guy to actually make the save. Unless I can pull a miracle out of my butt, all I can really do is just hope he wears himself out.

Rhino impales a minivan with his horn after yet another missed charge. As the horn scrapes and grinds into the metal, there's a spray of sparks that get in his eyes, and I see O'Hirn flinch, squinting and trying to rub his eyes with his massive kill-dozer hands.

And there's my new strategy of attack.

Leaping up onto a lamp-post and then springing off of it towards him, I land on one of his shoulders, and start at his head. Rhino twists and turns and tries to shake me off, but I keep crawling back up. I'm reminded of that epic play-through of Shadow of the Colossus back on my old PS2; just climb around on the big scary monster until you find his weak spot, then stab at it with everything you've got.

Finally, I get on top of his head for just a split second, then roll forward until I'm face to face with the big bruiser.

"POIT!" I say, making the old cartoony sound-effect as I poke him in the eyes before dropping down and springing away.

....man, I wish I had come up with something better, like "here's mud in your eye!" or "Lights out!" or even "Peek-a-boo!" or, I dunno, something. But no, the best I could manage was "Poit." I really need to work on my banter.

"AAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!"

Rhino stumbles back, covering his whole face as he writhes in pain. Not being one to pass up an opportunity, I fire a wide spray of webs to stick his hands together, then another layer sticking his hands to his head, and another layer sticking his feet to the ground. The one coating of webbing did precisely diddly when it came to slowing Rhino down, but maybe if I lay it on really thick, it'll fare a little better.

"Look, O'Hirn, come on, pal. I know it's hard to control yourself when you get all horny like that," I say, hoping that he'll pick up on the 'horn' pun and not just assume that I'm hitting on him. "But you've gotta learn to control yourself when you're out in public, or else you'll just end up embarrassing yourself! Believe me, I know."

"SHUT....UP!" O'Hirn bellows as he rips right through my webbing again.

Oh good. Now he's mad.

Rhino lunges towards me, but the webbing in his legs is slowing him down, and he's way too mad to take his eyes off of me. Realizing this, I pour the webbing on even thicker on his legs, trying to stick them together, or stick them to the ground, or anything that'll finally stop this guy in his tracks and he continues to lumber towards me.

Okay, he's getting awfully close now, just another coating of webbing and I'll move back to--

*ppffffssst! ....click!---click!*

Oh, damn. I must have ran out of web flui--

*POW!*












".....ughhh......where am I?"

My senses finally return to me, and I look around, and see I'm laying on my back, my legs still dangling out of the hole in the wall of a hospital. Well, I guess if there's any place to wind up after you've been injured, it might as well be the one place they can help you.

On the other hand, Rhino's still on the loose, and now I'm in a building already filled with sick and injured people.

"S....Spider-Man?!" A nurse says as she sees me.

"Err, yeah, that's me....whuff," I say as I uneasily get back to my feet. "Y'know, just once, just once, I would like to fight a villain that doesn't knock me out during the fight."

"Are you okay? Do you need treatment?"

"Nah, I think I'm fine. Gotta keep moving, anyway; there's a big angry monster down on the street, and the last thing I wanna do is lead him here."

I'm about to head out the hole I'd made, then I turn back.

"Actually, while I'm here, there's one thing that I might want. Mind helping me raid the medicine closets?"



ONE QUICK TRIP TO THE MEDICINE CLOSETS LATER....


"Okay, people, hold your positions!" I hear Captain Stacy yell out among the line of cop cars that have set up a roadblock on the street. At least two dozen armed officers with pistols and shotguns. I hit Rhino with a freaking boulder and it didn't even phase him. Trying to dig in like this is suicide....and I think Captain Stacy knows it. Still, the guy's got guts, I think to myself as I leap down from the rooftops and land next to him.

"You do know you guys are gonna get killed if you try and fend him off like that, right?" I say under my breath so the other cops don't get disheartened.

"We have a SWAT team on the way, and HAMMER agents are already en route; we just need to buy them some time," he says with a stern determination in his voice. "So what do you know about this one?"

"From what I can tell, it's another one of the Big Man's hired goons. Remember Alex O'Hirn, the petty crook that I left on your station's doorstep like half a dozen times? That's him, souped up with all sorts of crazy cybernetics from Tombstone, and now nothing I'm throwing at him is leaving a dent."

Captain Stacy scowls when I mention Tombstone. Meanwhile, Rhino tosses a pickup truck towards us; fortunately, his aim isn't particularly good, so it arcs way overhead and tumbles down the street behind us.

"Any minute now he's going to charge and rip us all to shreds. Got any bright ideas?"

"I've got one, yeah. Lemme get one more go at him, and then I'll see if I can't hold him off til the feds get here, okay?"

"You've got about one minute before SWAT arrives and tear gases the area."

"Works for me," I say before leaping up the street towards the big monster.

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAUUUUURRRRGHHHHH!!!!"

That's it, O'Hirn, you big lunk. Open wide.

While Rhino roars at me, I wind up and hurl a small bottle as hard as I can. Spider-Senses aiding my aim, I'm able to throw it right into his mouth. O'Hirn sputters for a minute, then crunches it with his teeth and swallows.

I jump in close, bobbing and weaving between his attacks, trying to just wear him down now.

"I'LL KILL YOU, SPIDER!"

"Judging by your inability to hit the broad side of a barn, I'd say that's pretty unli--*oof!*"

Rhino finally backhands me with one of his big paws, sending me tumbling into a concrete wall. The massive brute stomps his way towards me, then pins me down with one hand.

"I'M BIGGER THAN YOU! I'M STRONGER THAN YOU....I...I....."

"...just swallowed a whole bottle of Valium. Whoops."

"...I....hate you.....so much," Rhino manages, before his eyes roll back in his head, and he collapses to the ground, unconscious.

Man, I really hope I didn't accidentally kill him. I mean, that's a lot of Valium he just ate. Still, it was either that, or let him kill me and every one of the police officers trying to stop him.

I hear the sound of oncoming helicopters--the HAMMER agents on their way to clean up the mess.

"Well, folks, that's my cue!" I announce as I stand over the heavily-sedated Rhino. "Until next time, folks, remember to brush your teeth, stay in school, and just say 'no' to dangerous experimental super-weapons and organized crime!"

With that, I jump up onto the nearest building and make a hasty retreat....until I notice another figure on a rooftop across the street.

A decidedly female figure, one that seems to be watching me rather intently.

I guess that this isn't the best time to try the long-fabled Parker Family Charm on the ladies, what with the federal mutant-hunting agents closing in, but what can I say? I'm a sucker like that.

I leap back across the street towards the mysterious figure, and then we both duck into the shadows away from the helicopters.

"Y'know, the scene of a big dust-up between a superhero and a monstrous villain really isn't the best place for spectators to--.....whoah," I say as I get a good look at her.

"What's the matter, Spider?" she says playfully as I sputter and stammer....





http://img805.imageshack.us/img805/5397/blackcat01.jpg

"Cat got your tongue?"

sabetoonth
07-06-2010, 07:20 PM
Underneath my helmet, I arch an eyebrow. It's possible that Vanko is bluffing, but I doubt it. There's no reason for it. "Jarvis, get me a complete scan of the Crimson Dynamo and cross-reference with known specifications for the Harbinger line." Moments later, a three-dimensional rendering of the Crimson Dynamo takes up the center of my HUD. Several key locations are highlighted. "Damn."

The Crimson Dynamo shares design elements with the Harbingers. This certainly explains its bulkiness. It also reaffirms how severe this proliferation problem is. Vanko makes a good point. He's just the first of many if I don't get this under control. It was a mistake to agree to putting this problem aside for the Expo.

INCOMING MISSILE!


Acting on reflex, I raise my repulsor and fire a quick blast. The resulting shockwave from the missile's explosion knocks me off my feet, and I land on my back with a metallic thud. I don't know that the Mark III would have survived a direct hit like that.



Dynamo charges once again, and my HUD highlights his damaged chestplate. It's his only exploitable weakness at the moment. I fire a repulsor blast at his chest, and the protective covering over his powercore completely shatters. Dynamo also stumbles a bit, allowing me to avoid his charge.



Hopping to my feet, I grab Dynamo by the waist and tackle him to the ground. I charge a repulsor blast, but a strong punch from Dynamo sends me flying through the air. "You're probably right, Vanko. There will be others. And I will deal with them like I'm going to deal with you."




Vanko assesed his damaged armor, it was his only weak spot in the whole suit. He held his left arm over it in a defensive manner, best thing to do without a workshop. He fire more repulsors at Iron Man as he dove in at him. Ivan shot his knee up as he recovered from the tackle.

"You're probably right, Vanko. There will be others. And I will deal with them like I'm going to deal with you."


“You will have to survive tonight first.” Ivan took flight and then slammed his free fist into Iron Man’s back. Setting his feet down as they reached ground level. He looked at his radar, the Dynamo Drone was still engaged with the Peacemaker, the CDD marked as a red dot, the Iron Man Unite as a blue one. Iron Man didn’t move.

“Not too bad of a fight Shell Head, but you loose.” Ivan started off to fulfil his promise to Stane to show him the finished product of his “pet project”.

Carnage27
07-06-2010, 08:37 PM
http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Carnage27/doctorstrangebw.png?t=1277254097

"Ah...I see you have awakened," a voice from above me calls. A voice I know I've heard before, many, many times. I look up to find a man standing on a parapet overlooking the lower part of the library, and I almost cannot believe my eyes. "I have been waiting a long time to meet you, Stephen Strange."

http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q50/neosoullife/129492-ancient-one_400.jpg

"You may call me the Ancient One."






I can't believe my eyes. Here he was, the man that has haunted my dreams for almost my entire life, as real as the air I was breathing, standing in front of me. I'm at a loss for words for one of the first times in my life.

Walking over to him, I find my voice, "Who are you? Why have you been following all these years?"

The Ancient One chuckles slightly and motions for me to follow him, "Come, young one."

As we walk, we pass through his house, and I can't help but marvel at the place. Furniture cleans itself, doors open and close as if ghostly denizens were flowing through the rooms, and stairwells move from side to side, granting access to different rooms.

Other than that, I can almost feel the magical energy flowing from the old man. It's obvious that he's an extremely skilled sorcerer, and I can only hope that this wasn't the master the demon talked about earlier. Because if he is, I'm done for.

"Relax, Stephen," he says in a calming voice. "I do not intend to hurt you. If I did, I certainly would not have teleported you away from your little confrontation."

"That was you?" I ask, although I'm not really surprised. "You must be powerful. To teleport me from so far away."

"Well, you may say I know my stuff," he smiles at me. "But you must be wondering why you're here. Why I have guided you all these years."

I merely nod. No words come to me at a time like this. I've wondered why I am...well the way I am for as long as I can remember. I've sought my purpose on the Earth for as long as I've walked it, and I've searched for the answers from the mystics of the world. I've gathered so much knowledge, so much ability, but not the true answers I've sought.

"I have brought you here, and gave you counsel in your dreams for all these years, because you will be the one to replace me, Stephen," the Ancient One says as we enter a large room with a huge stained glass window hanging above us depicting the dichotomy between good and evil.

"Stephen, you are destined to become this Universe's new Sorcerer Supreme."

Carnage27
07-06-2010, 08:48 PM
EDIT:cmad:

Carnage27
07-06-2010, 09:02 PM
EDIT:cmad:

Eddie Brock
07-06-2010, 11:57 PM
Vanko assesed his damaged armor, it was his only weak spot in the whole suit. He held his left arm over it in a defensive manner, best thing to do without a workshop. He fire more repulsors at Iron Man as he dove in at him. Ivan shot his knee up as he recovered from the tackle.

"You're probably right, Vanko. There will be others. And I will deal with them like I'm going to deal with you."


“You will have to survive tonight first.” Ivan took flight and then slammed his free fist into Iron Man’s back. Setting his feet down as they reached ground level. He looked at his radar, the Dynamo Drone was still engaged with the Peacemaker, the CDD marked as a red dot, the Iron Man Unite as a blue one. Iron Man didn’t move.

“Not too bad of a fight Shell Head, but you loose.” Ivan started off to fulfil his promise to Stane to show him the finished product of his “pet project”.
Vanko takes off. A quick glance at my radar shows that the unidentified bogey is still wrapped up with the Peacemaker. Glad to see at least one of those things survived. And here I was, worried that they'd be totally incompetent.

"You're not going anywhere, Vanko! We're not done here yet!" I call out as I rocket after Dynamo. With my speed, I close the gap between us in a matter of seconds. I fire a repulsor into Dynamo's back, which prompts him to swing wildly with his right arm. Unfortunately for me, he connects - just barely - and I'm knocked away haplessly.

"Sir, he appears to be headed for Mr. Stane."

sabetoonth
07-07-2010, 12:47 AM
Vanko takes off. A quick glance at my radar shows that the unidentified bogey is still wrapped up with the Peacemaker. Glad to see at least one of those things survived. And here I was, worried that they'd be totally incompetent.

"You're not going anywhere, Vanko! We're not done here yet!" I call out as I rocket after Dynamo. With my speed, I close the gap between us in a matter of seconds. I fire a repulsor into Dynamo's back, which prompts him to swing wildly with his right arm. Unfortunately for me, he connects - just barely - and I'm knocked away haplessly.

"Sir, he appears to be headed for Mr. Stane."

The repulsor blast warned Ivan of the impending Iron Man and he swung with his right arm, knocking the annoyance away.

As he landed in the crowd of panicking wealthy Americans Vanko began scanning them all. He picked up an African American in a white tuxedo.

“Are you scared?” Ivan taunted the man in his grasp, noticing a dampening in his pants before tossing him aside like an unwanted toy. His targets were Stane and Stark.

“Oh Mr. Stark, Mr. Stane, come out, come out, where ever you are!” Ivan flipped a table as he called out the Stark Indestries businessmen.

Eddie Brock
07-07-2010, 02:21 AM
The repulsor blast warned Ivan of the impending Iron Man and he swung with his right arm, knocking the annoyance away.
As he landed in the crowd of panicking wealthy Americans Vanko began scanning them all. He picked up an African American in a white tuxedo.
“Are you scared?” Ivan taunted the man in his grasp, noticing a dampening in his pants before tossing him aside like an unwanted toy. His targets were Stane and Stark.
“Oh Mr. Stark, Mr. Stane, come out, come out, where ever you are!” Ivan flipped a table as he called out the Stark Indestries businessmen.
I've got to get to that exposed powercore somehow. But it's not going to be easy if Dynamo is suddenly retreating. If I can only get one clean shot, I have a good chance of putting him down for good...

"Sir!"

Looking up, I see the cause for Jarvis's alarm. An innocent bystander is sent hurtling through the air by Dynamo. Cranking up my speed, I swoop down low and catch him in my arms. "Bad time to wear white," I remark as I notice the stain on his crotch.

“Oh Mr. Stark, Mr. Stane, come out, come out, where ever you are!”

I lower the man down and set him on his feet. If Obadiah's got any sense - and speaking as someone who knows him very well, he does - he's holed up somewhere safe. Possibly wherever the Peacemaker is being controlled from. And Dynamo can search all he likes for Tony Stark...

...never knowing that the man himself was hurtling towards him in a suit of armor. I land a crushing blow to the back of Dynamo's helmet as I soar ahead of him. Turning on a dime, I see Dynamo slowly recovering from the hit. Gotta take advantage.

Aiming for the exposed powercore, I rifle off a few repulsor blasts. The ones that don't miss are feebly swatted away by Dynamo. He's not going to be able to keep this up for long, but neither am I. The Mark III's energy levels are dropping more rapidly than I'd like to admit.

"Jarvis, does this thing have enough for one last unibeam?"

"Sir, I must advise against that. The suit barely recovered from the first unibeam. If you use up all your power on another one, there's a good chance that the suit won't reboot at all."

Making me a sitting duck.

"Standby," I order calmly. "If this is going to be a one-and-done kind of deal, I'm going to make damn sure that I have a clean shot."

I face Dynamo. If the unibeam is fully charged, it can fire in just over 195 milliseconds. The average human response time in 215 milliseconds. Not a big window. If I can get Dynamo to lower his defenses, I need to act without hesitation.

"Taunting the wealthy businessmen won't do you any good. Your fight is with me, Vanko."

Come on, damn you. Give me just one shot...

Byrd Man
07-07-2010, 03:43 AM
He rose from his cover just long enough to fling the grenade towards the Nazi, before taking a bolt of lightning to the chest himself, knocking the Colonel off his feet.

Fury's senses swam for a moment, everything blurry and the noise around him muffled and slurred. Dazed from the electrical shock, he was only barely able to register the deafening BOOM! from his grenade a few seconds later.

"....-ury.....Colonel Fury, sir!.....Colonel Fury! Can you hear me!"

The voice of the British Commando Percy Pinkerton finally brought Fury out of his daze.

"I'm here. What's the sit-rep?"

"Area's clear, sir. That grenade of yours did the trick on the electric bloke. I'm afraid that we've lost track of Captain America and the other big chap. What are our orders, sir?"

Fury stood to his feet, dusted himself off, then kept marching forward like nothing had even happened.

"We continue the mission. Koenig, you're taking point. Take us to Dr. Zola."

As the Howling Commandos made short order of Blitzkrieg, Captain America was dealing with the man known as Crossbones.

WHAM!

With a well placed elbow, Crossbones sent Captain America flying across the room, smashing through a wall and into the castle's armory. Stumbling and regaining his footing, he slammed his shield in to the giant Nazi's face. Crossbones howled in pain as Cap's shield broke the man's nose.

"That hurt, dammit!"

Grabbing Rogers by his neck, Crossbones tossed the super-soldier out of the hole in the wall he had created earlier.

"I represent the very pinnacle in Aryan Eugenics. No matter what steroids they pump through your veins, you can never be superior to me!"

"I hope the Nazi bred you to be fire-proof." Pulling a Zippo lighter from his pocket, Captain America tossed the lighter into the armory room with Crossbones.

BOOM!

The explosion rattled the castle and blowing both me into the air. Coming to a skidding stop, Captain America stood on shaky legs and gathered himself. Picking up his shield, he continued through the castle in search of the Howling Commandos and the primary target: the man known as Red Skull.

Nimibro
07-07-2010, 01:48 PM
http://img39.imageshack.us/img39/6606/docockbanner.png (http://img39.imageshack.us/i/docockbanner.png/)

As I step in the corridor leading to the lab, I wear my protective headwear, my lab coat and barge the doors open. "Mary, is everything ready?" "Yes, Dr. Octavius, I mean, Otto", Mary Alice says as she blushes. "Good. Let's begin the show, then."

10 business-wearing men, all with skeptical looks on their faces, sit in a cabinet outside of the lab, all watching the big metal structure in the middle of the room. A big, glowing yellow sphere, mounted on a stand of tubes and metal scraps. Mary Alice uploads the necessary data to the computer, connected to the sphere by cables.

"hello", I say, "as you may know, I, dr. otto Octavius would present the way to almost infinite energy. A source not just for America, but one that is easy to duplicate and could solve the energy and maybe even economy problems, and of course, solve the power problem in third world countries".
"Another thing I would like to present to you is the harness I already presented in the stark expo, the 4-appendage harness, only now in full action, a demonstration of the power it holds".
As my arms ascend towards the sphere, I shout loudly over to Mary Alice

"start it!", she turns over the switch and like magic, electricity comes in and out of the sphere, and it's glow is more beautiful than ever…
But suddenly, the power is too strong, the arms are overloaded, my brain is overloaded, I break under the stress, and so does my arms, one flailing and hitting mary alice, nearing her to the sphere, as a radioation wave hits her."NO!!!! MARY!"

"shut down the experiment, Octavius! Now!", these filthy corporate snakes yell at me. "LEAVE ME ALONE! RIGHT F**KING NOW! AAHHHHHRG!" as i fidget nervousley, I look at mary alice's unconscious body, while medics take her to an ambulance…I sit on the ground, thinking, just like when I was 8 years old, my parents watching me in complete disrespect and disappointment, but theyr'e both dead, in hell.

"what shall I do now?"

sabetoonth
07-08-2010, 10:37 PM
I've got to get to that exposed powercore somehow. But it's not going to be easy if Dynamo is suddenly retreating. If I can only get one clean shot, I have a good chance of putting him down for good...

"Sir!"

Looking up, I see the cause for Jarvis's alarm. An innocent bystander is sent hurtling through the air by Dynamo. Cranking up my speed, I swoop down low and catch him in my arms. "Bad time to wear white," I remark as I notice the stain on his crotch.

“Oh Mr. Stark, Mr. Stane, come out, come out, where ever you are!”

I lower the man down and set him on his feet. If Obadiah's got any sense - and speaking as someone who knows him very well, he does - he's holed up somewhere safe. Possibly wherever the Peacemaker is being controlled from. And Dynamo can search all he likes for Tony Stark...

...never knowing that the man himself was hurtling towards him in a suit of armor. I land a crushing blow to the back of Dynamo's helmet as I soar ahead of him. Turning on a dime, I see Dynamo slowly recovering from the hit. Gotta take advantage.

Aiming for the exposed powercore, I rifle off a few repulsor blasts. The ones that don't miss are feebly swatted away by Dynamo. He's not going to be able to keep this up for long, but neither am I. The Mark III's energy levels are dropping more rapidly than I'd like to admit.

"Jarvis, does this thing have enough for one last unibeam?"

"Sir, I must advise against that. The suit barely recovered from the first unibeam. If you use up all your power on another one, there's a good chance that the suit won't reboot at all."

Making me a sitting duck.

"Standby," I order calmly. "If this is going to be a one-and-done kind of deal, I'm going to make damn sure that I have a clean shot."

I face Dynamo. If the unibeam is fully charged, it can fire in just over 195 milliseconds. The average human response time in 215 milliseconds. Not a big window. If I can get Dynamo to lower his defenses, I need to act without hesitation.

"Taunting the wealthy businessmen won't do you any good. Your fight is with me, Vanko."

Come on, damn you. Give me just one shot...

“My fight is with all of you!” Ivan spun around and fired about a dozen repulsor blasts from each arm. Before Iron Man crashed into him and they both flew back into a wall that caved in. Rising first Ivan checked his HUD; he had at least 60% power left, though he estimated he was actually closer to 75%.
“It is with America, and her people, for starting wars, and when they win punishing their opponents with cruel fates.” Vanko picked up Iron Man and a bear hug and started to compress holding him close to his chest.
“Now Iron Man, you lose!” Vanko stated as h heard the metal of their armors scrape together.

Eddie Brock
07-08-2010, 10:49 PM
“My fight is with all of you!” Ivan spun around and fired about a dozen repulsor blasts from each arm. Before Iron Man crashed into him and they both flew back into a wall that caved in. Rising first Ivan checked his HUD; he had at least 60% power left, though he estimated he was actually closer to 75%.
“It is with America, and her people, for starting wars, and when they win punishing their opponents with cruel fates.” Vanko picked up Iron Man and a bear hug and started to compress holding him close to his chest.
“Now Iron Man, you lose!” Vanko stated as h heard the metal of their armors scrape together.
"You keep saying that," I grunt underneath the strain of Dynamo's crushing grip, "And yet here I am, still standing."

"Sir..."

"I know, I know," I interrupt quickly. "The suit can't withstand this kind of sustained pressure for long." And if I didn't know that, the various warning messages on my HUD would be my first indication of trouble. "Wait a minute..."

I look down. Dynamo's chestplate is pressed against mine. His arms are busy trying to crush me, leaving his weak point completely exposed. He lined up the shot perfectly for me!

"I hope you enjoyed your time at the Expo, Vanko," I begin. "Playtime's over."

"JARVIS, NOW!"

My HUD blacks out as the blinding unibeam fires directly into Dynamo's exposed powercore.

Andy C.
07-09-2010, 04:05 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



"I'm....err, I mean you, you're.........you," I sputter out in front of the black-suited hottie on the rooftop. "*ahem* sorry, can I get a do-over on that first sentence?"

"First impressions are always the most important," she platinum-haired minx says as she struts toward me, making me very glad that I wore loose-fitting jeans. "I'll just chalk yours up to me making mine count."

"Erm....right. Anyway, you're the one who knocked over that jewelry store the other night, aren't you?"

"The Black Cat," she says, bowing like a stage magician who just pulled off a really good trick. "I'd say 'guilty as charged,' but saying 'guilty' would mean I feel bad about it."

"Well, um...you should. I mean, that's a pretty serious crime and all. You stole a bunch out of those people's livelihoods. I'm sure they've got mouths to feed and all that."

"And my heart bleeds for them, believe me," Black Cat says sarcastically. "Anyway, you're the neighborhood crime fighter, aren't you? And like you said, I've pulled off a pretty serious crime. So what are you going to do about it, Spider?"

She puts her hands on her hips, patiently waiting for me to spit out an answer, the just-a-little-sadistic grin on her face getting bigger and bigger as I squirm.

"Umm....I'm going to.....errmmmm......ask you to give that money back?"

Black Cat giggles at how lame that response was. She is enjoying this way more than I am.

"And what if I say no?"

Dang. I was really hoping I could persuade her the easy way.

"Then....um.....I guess....I'm going to have to....arrest you?"

She raises an eyebrow from behind her domino mask, her interest obviously piqued.

"Oooh.....and what happens if I resist arrest?"

Before I can mumble and sputter and generally make an ass out of myself anymore, she goes for the chain around her waist. What I thought was just a fancy belt and buckle is actually a long chain with a heavy ball on the end of it, and my Spider-Senses are all that save me from having it smash my nose in as I Matrix-dodge under it.

"Whoa, hey now!" I say, tumbling backwards to avoid the swinging chain from sweeping my legs out from under me, then springing off my hands as she advances with a sliding kick....with a pair of long, shapely legs that not right now, Parker. There's a fight going on. "I thought you were just trying to get my attention!"

"Oh, I'm sure I've got your attention now," she says, whipping that ball-chain around and hurling it right at my chest. I duck under it, then jump overhead to get out of her flurry of attacks...

....but as I land behind her, she connects with a surprisingly powerful mule kick to the gut. It staggers me back for only a half-second, but that half second's enough she needs to bring that ball around, clipping me in the shoulder as I'm just a tad late ducking this time.

"Okay, so you've got some moves," I admit as I cringe from the blow. Doesn't feel like anything's broken, but still, OW. I'm gonna have one heck of a bruise there. "Granted, I'm not really at 100% right now, what with having just fought a twelve-foot-tall Rhino guy. And I can't really hit back, since you're...y'know...."

"What, because I'm a girl? Oh please," Black Cat says, diving at me with a spinning tornado kick that she turns into a huge 360 spin with her ball-chain, all of which I'm able to duck out of the way but is still by all rights really cool looking. "You think being a girl means I can't take what you dish out?"

"Didn't say that, I --whoa!--" I say, trying to explain myself as I juke and dodge her continuous attacks. "I was going to say 'not a superhuman.' I mean, I know --hey!-- I know I'm a little scrawny compared to, say, that big Viking guy --yikes!-- that showed up with Captain America and Iron Man, but I've --oop!-- still put an awful lot of guys in the hospital. I don't wanna accidentally go overboard. I may be a vigilante, but --jeez!-- but I'm still a gentleman."

"So what would a gentleman do here?" Cat asks curiously, but apparently not so curious that she's going to stop swinging that chain at me.

"I'd probably web you up and take you to the cops, but I kinda used all my web-fluid up when I was fighting Rhino."

"Aww, so you're not going to shoot your goop at me?"

"....okay, that one was just gross."

"A little bit. Sorry, that one crossed the line from playful-teasing to just a little trashy."

"Nah, it's all right. I guess it's a little easy to go blue and just make the awkward-teenager-who-shoots-sticky-goo joke; I've only had the stuff for a few days and I've heard it like a million times by now."

"So that's not a super-power then?"

"Not really; it's more of a gadget thing, I had a friend make--"

Before I can continue explaining one of my primary weapons to a total stranger (a total stranger who is a criminal on top of that....granted, a smoking hot criminal, but still), a spotlight shines down on us.

"ATTENTION, SPIDER-MAN," a voice sounds from a megaphone on board one of the HAMMER helicopters sweeping the scene after the Rhino encounter--whoops, guess I kinda forgot they were there. "YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR ILLEGAL METAHUMAN ACTIVITIES. REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE AND PLACE YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD."

"Awww, man," I groan as the helicopter starts to close in. "I can give these guys the slip no problem, but I guess we're gonna have to pick this up some other time, huh, Black--"

I look over to where she was standing, but she's long gone by now.

".....Cat?"

I stand there feeling like the enormous doofus that I am for a few seconds, before I realize that they're about to arrest me, then I bolt.

"SPIDER-MAN, STOP WHERE YOU ARE!" the man in the chopper barks, but once I'm out of his spotlight, I'm as good as gone, and I don't let myself slow down until I'm a good thirty blocks away.

Eddie Brock
07-09-2010, 11:55 PM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

"Will the jury please rise."

The jury rises.

"Will the defendant also please rise."

Wearing an old suit of mine - the one that I would have worn to the funeral, if I had been able to go - I stand up and look at Hogarth. He looks nervous. I don't blame him. The prosecutor attacked hard and fast. And despite my indignation and outrage at the charges brought against me, I had no admissible explanation.

"Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict?"

I look at the pencil-necked foreman. "We have, your honor." When the judge nods to continue, the foreman clears his throat feebly. "On the first count of murder in the second degree, we the jury find the defendant, Frank Castle, guilty."

With one sentence, the course of my life was changed forever.

"On the second count of murder in the second degree, we the jury find the defendant, Frank Castle, guilty."

Hogarth looks me in the eye, and I can see the disappointment and sorrow in his. "I'm sorry, Frank," he mutters as he gives me a hug. I don't embrace him back. I don't feel much like embracing anything anymore. "I know you're innocent. I know you are."

I realized that day that innocence can't be decided in a courtroom. In certain extreme cases, the law is inadequate. In order to shame its inadequacy, it is necessary to operate outside the law. To pursue a natural justice.

Watchman
07-10-2010, 03:38 PM
Power...unlimited power. The Tunguska Event. Zola...what did he call it...the Philosopher Stone. In 1908 something fell. Nothing magical about it. Something struck Russia creating a massive explosion. It was this stone. It's only a sliver but its mine...MINE!

The Spear...ancient weapon. Blood of the Nazareth. Combine to form the ultimate weapon. There is no magic here. The spear fell too. Fell from the heavens. Dr. Zola was mediocre medical student until he found the stone and the spear. Until he found the space Gods. Celestials. Trace back their origins to the Mad Monk. He wrote it down in his black book: Gods from the sky of immense power, not magic, not holy, but Cosmic.

There was only one name that could be roughly translated in the pages Zola found.

Devourer of Worlds.
*******
The Red Skull had gone insane. The spear combined with the stone was unstable power wise. The power would drive him away from sanity. He wouldn't be able to properly comprehend what was happening to him. The stone was a special type of machine that was far from complete and he did not have the means to perfect it. He was assured that the plan that the Skull concocted was already in motion and there was stopping it. He could hear the sounds of army boots running and someone shouting commands. Germany was dead and Zola would jump ship.

He saw the Howling Commandos. An unstoppable force of nature mowing through the German forces. He hated them. His fat little body waddled forward and he waved a white handkerchief at them.

"Ah, Herr Fury!" He wipe away the sweat off his forehead and was wheezing. "I notified your superiors about my wishes to defect. They are greatly interest in what I can bring to your army and country. I believe you already met two of them. Imagine what we can to Soviets? Come, come. I am assured that your costumed clown can deal with the Red Skull." He gave him a big smile.

******
The walls didn't fall apart but unfolded. A spiral of silver energy flew out slamming Captain America into the wall. He slump to the floor and looked up to see the Red Skull walking out of the hole he made. He dragged the spear at his side and it made a streak of silver flame in its wake. Silver energy lit up in his blue eyes.

"I have waited a long time for this, Captain America." He raised the spear into the air and brought it down toward Cap.

Byrd Man
07-11-2010, 06:42 PM
The walls didn't fall apart but unfolded. A spiral of silver energy flew out slamming Captain America into the wall. He slump to the floor and looked up to see the Red Skull walking out of the hole he made. He dragged the spear at his side and it made a streak of silver flame in its wake. Silver energy lit up in his blue eyes.

"I have waited a long time for this, Captain America." He raised the spear into the air and brought it down toward Cap.

Hoisting his shield up, Rogers fought off the Skull's blow with his shield. The blow knocked the Skull back, allowing Captain America to spring up on his feet.

"Looks like you'll have to wait even longer, Mein Herr" Cap said sarcastically. "Why even continue to fight, Skull? The Red Army are the outskirts of Berlin even as we speak, with the US Army not far behind them. National Socialism failed, you and your precious Führer failed. It's over. If Hitler is alive long enough to surrend, he'll be hanged and so will you."

Watchman
07-12-2010, 10:48 AM
Hoisting his shield up, Rogers fought off the Skull's blow with his shield. The blow knocked the Skull back, allowing Captain America to spring up on his feet.

"Looks like you'll have to wait even longer, Mein Herr" Cap said sarcastically. "Why even continue to fight, Skull? The Red Army are the outskirts of Berlin even as we speak, with the US Army not far behind them. National Socialism failed, you and your precious Führer failed. It's over. If Hitler is alive long enough to surrend, he'll be hanged and so will you."

"You still believe that it's about the war? About the Führer? Nein." The Red Skull starts to laugh as the spear lights up. Rubble and stone float around the room around the Skull. A force picks up Captain America and hurls him across the room. Pieces of the floor reach up like arms and grab hold of Captain America. Red Skull made his way toward Captain America. He left silver-flamed footsteps in his wake.

"Who do you think I am? A failed art student who decided to throw a tamper tantrum? Ha! I am something grand! I have stolen the fire of gods!" He raised the spear into the air. "I will use it to remake the world and your country will burn to ash for your meddling."

Byrd Man
07-12-2010, 03:32 PM
"You still believe that it's about the war? About the Führer? Nein." The Red Skull starts to laugh as the spear lights up. Rubble and stone float around the room around the Skull. A force picks up Captain America and hurls him across the room. Pieces of the floor reach up like arms and grab hold of Captain America. Red Skull made his way toward Captain America. He left silver-flamed footsteps in his wake.

"Who do you think I am? A failed art student who decided to throw a tamper tantrum? Ha! I am something grand! I have stolen the fire of gods!" He raised the spear into the air. "I will use it to remake the world and your country will burn to ash for your meddling."

"Tough talk coming from a Kraut."

While the Skull had the spear in the air, Cap pounced forward. His shield came down on the Skull's head, knocking the spear from his hands. Using the sharpened edge of his shield, Rogers began pressing it into the Skull's face.

sabetoonth
07-12-2010, 09:14 PM
Edit

sabetoonth
07-12-2010, 09:31 PM
I knob my head as I hear Victor’s request to join him later in the training quarters. After what took place today I more than understand why. Since I’ve been a member here I really haven’t held my own weight. I didn’t even really get a chance to set my self in before they had me fighting. Guess that really no excuse, with my abilities I should be handling my self a lot better. I assume that why I’m heading to the danger room.

I enter the danger room and stand against the wall waiting for sabretooth to join me.
“So kid, can you do anything but brawl?” Victor asked as he entered the Danger Room. he had already set the program, it was just changing the look from cold steel to a martial arts dojo. Victor went through the styles he knew, Tiger, Monkey, Shotokan, list went on further, but he figured start the kid on Jeet Kun Do.

Placing his feet apart, one hand in loose fist held close to his face and the other held in a guard near his groin Victor prepared for what he was about to do: Kick this kid’s ass. No malevolent intention of course, just show the kid how martial arts can trump brawling.

Victor placed his feet apart standing on the balls of his feet. He held his hand in a loose fist near his face and the other in a guard near his groin. Victor said before lunging at him striking his jaw with a powerful punch, delivering another into his gut and then sweeping his legs out from under him.

“Ready Calvin?” Victor said pulling him from the floor.

bkhedr
07-13-2010, 05:00 AM
FURY





The terrorist leader turned, only to walk right into the downward swing of Nick Fury's pistol-whip, the butt of the gun slamming hard into the bridge of the man's nose.

The old man wasn't able to follow the attacker there, what with his ability to become invisible, so such an extent that he was even able to avoid detection on SHIELD's state-of-the-art thermal sensor. But then, Fury didn't need to follow his enemy, because he had already determined the location. All he had to do was beat the enemy there....and having memorized every corner of the Pentagon like the back of his hand, the Director knew more than a few shortcuts.

Once he had arrived, it was just a matter of activating his defenses and waiting for the leader of the Sons of Sam to let his guard down.

"Plant a bomb a floor down from the target," the Director said to his opponent, who was staggered from the blow but still stood. "The North Koreans tried that with Reagan back in '86. It didn't work then, either."

Fury eyed the small device that had been planted on the ceiling.

"There's not a whole lot of firepower on Earth that can punch through the floors of the Pentagon with such a small package," he said. "Then again, there aren't a whole lot of people on Earth who can create force-fields and turn invisible, either."

The old man produced a curvy metallic object from one of the pouches in his utility harness and pressed a point along it. The room filled with a deadly hum, a translucent layer of blueish energy spreading along the walls and ceiling, eventually encasing the entire room.

"Back in 1977, a race called the Shi'ar decided to take Earth as a strategic foothold for their own empire. We had an awful lot of trouble penetrating these particle shields they used, since any form of matter or energy that passed through them would just dissipate on contact. Eventually we threw them back, and kept some of their technology for ourselves...for just such an occasion."

Fury circled the leader of the Sons of Sam, one hand still holding the Shi'ar artifact, the other drawing his pistol from its holster.

"You set off that bomb and the only person you kill is yourself," he said, something of a half-truth in his statement. While the old man might be caught in the blast as well, the truth of SHIELD was that Nick Fury could never truly die. "Now how about you deactivate it, and start telling me some things about yourself. Starting with your real name, and your planet of origin."

http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg


Having quickly overcome the initial surprise brought on by Fury's sudden arrival, the terrorist leader take a brief moment to take stock of his situation before flashing his opponent a sinister grin.

"You've impressed me old soldier. I'll grant you that. But that doesn't mean that I'm at your mercy, or that I have to answer your ridiculous questions."

With that the terrorist leader raises his hand which, to Fury's amazement, enlarges and takes on the look of stone. Before Fury can react the terrorist leader slams his fist come club into the shimmering barrier entrapping him.

The shield shook violently without breaking before a second blow brought it crashing down.

"I may not get the chance to kill the Secretary of Defence today, but he does deserve to die for selling our country's out to those Madripoorian pirates, for weakening America." the terrorist said as he drew his side arm with a rocky hand.

"Oh he will most definately die, but not today.Today is all about you." He added as he aimed his weapon at Fury's head

bkhedr
07-13-2010, 05:32 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg



"I will ask you one more time." The Vision said as the man before him slumped to the floor of the alley.

The rain was pouring heavily and it made an odd pattering noise as it landed on the synthezoid's hardened plastic form while the darkness of the night made his red face appear all the more menacing.

The man grimaced in fear and raised his hands defensively but the Vision remained impassive as he bent at the knees and took a hold of the man by the collar then raised him up and slammed him against the brick wall.

"Where is the Red Ghost?"

"Oh god! I don't know!" the man yelped

"You are lying." The Vision growled

"Please, I don't even know what you're talking abou-"

KRAK

A plastic fist smashes into the wall, mere inches from the man's head and comes away with bits of broken brick and dust trailing behind it.

"Do not waste my time Edward Handal. I know that the Red Ghost is somewhere in this city and that you are his errand boy. What I do not know is where he is exactly."

"Please man, please..."

"Now you are going tell me what I want to know" The Vision continues, ignoring the man's pleas "because it is a simple matter for me to analyze your voice, your heart rate, and your stress levels."

The syntehzoid leaned in close and unblinkingly stared the man in the eyes


"Everytime you lie I will know you have lied to me, and if you do not start telling me the truth soon." the vision raised an intangible hand and rammed into the brick wall causing Edward to yelp in shock "You will find out that I am not a patient individual."



http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


The interrogation had been brief but fruitful, having ended when Edward admitted to doing odd jobs for the man known only as the Red Ghost.

An interesting moniker that the Vision now considered in relation to himself, with his red face and ghost like intangibilty, as he floated silently and stealthily towards the skyscraper Edward identified as the Red Ghost's lair.

As far as the Vision had been able to gather, the Red Ghost was once a high ranking Russian scientist who, after the Ultron intelligence was lost, spent decades studying the data collected on it before it, and he, disapearred. Now the man was in New York, and it was very unlikely that he, unlike Karpov, Lukin, and the Widow Maker, was not searching for the prize that had eluded him for so long. A prize the Vision was determined to get to first.

As he drew nearer the building, the synthezoid reached out across the airwaves, identifying any security measures in place and deactivating them remotely.

Having thus cleared the way, the Vision approached the building and simply floated through the outer walls and was shocked to find the man he had been searching for waiting for him.

"Ahh there you are at last." The old man said with a smile as he stood in the center of the room and eyed the Vision. "Greetings synthezoid. The Red Ghost bids you welcome to his abode."

Eddie Brock
07-13-2010, 11:40 PM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

The first few weeks in jail were the hardest. Word spread pretty fast that I used to be a cop, and that made me a big target. Some days, I'd pick a fight just to get put in solitary. It was the only way I'd get a night to myself. Of course, even then, I couldn't sleep. When I wasn't thinking about my family, I was haunted by those strange visions. Memories I couldn't explain.

"You know, you don't really talk much," my cellmate remarks. Even though I don't look at him, he continues, "You've been in this place - what? - two, three weeks now? You haven't said a word to me."

I don't respond. I'm too busy trying to remember the one-eyed man.

Clearing his throat, my cellmate says, "But, hey, I guess I'm partly to blame, too. I mean, I never even introduced myself." Hoping down from his metal cot, he stands in the center of the cell and announces, "My name's Dave. Spacker Dave."

I quickly glance at him before redirecting my attention to the floor again.

"Right, yeah," Dave sighs deflatedly. He trudges back over to his cot and sits down again. After another minute of silence, he suddenly says, "Possession with intent. That's what they got me on." Shaking his head, he explains, "I used to be mixed up in a lot of bad stuff. Even got busted a few times. Finally, I decided that I had enough. I packed up my whole supply and arranged a deal with this guy I met."

A guard walks by the cell, paying no attention to us.

"Turns out that he's an undercover cop. I get slammed for the whole thing," Dave says. "Figures. The one time I try to go clean, I get busted."

More silence passes.

"Someone killed my family," I finally announce without looking up. "When I get out of here, they're going to pay for what they've done."

Dave doesn't say anything. I assume he doesn't know what to say. I don't blame him.

I shoot him a quick look. "Want to know anything else?"

Watchman
07-14-2010, 08:45 AM
"Tough talk coming from a Kraut."

While the Skull had the spear in the air, Cap pounced forward. His shield came down on the Skull's head, knocking the spear from his hands. Using the sharpened edge of his shield, Rogers began pressing it into the Skull's face.

"You think killing me will stop it?" The shield cut into the Skull's forehead. His face turned crimson.

"Always failing to see the bigger picture mein captain. Always thinking like some jingoistic thug. If we kill enough of them, we win. Nein....what was I planning here? Who was that American that escaped your clutches?"

Yes, that did it. For a brief moment he caught the him off guard. A knife shot out from his sleeve. He slashed across Captain's American's chest and kicked him off. He must be quick. He threw the knife at him, surely it will be blocked by his shield. He picked up the spear and leaped at Captain America.

TrueMastermind
07-14-2010, 09:35 AM
WOLVERINE
They all were angry. I could smell it on their breath and see their frustration disguised behind expressions of concern. Nobody could fool me. Not even Fox.

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Gathered around the fireplace inside their log cabin, the Reavers all stared at me, seeking answers. Wondering why this man brought such trouble upon them. Wondering why he didn't just keep all the unwanted attention for himself.

"You came to me. I didn't ask to be here." Clearly hurt at my piss-poor attitude, it's obvious that she thought I'd be more sincere in relation to the situation. But there was some uncontrollabe rage roaming around in me that couldn't be controlled. This whole cat-and-mouse charade was supposed to be a part of my past life, the one I left behind. Now that it was by people who were once fighting by my side only stirred the pot.

"You still could of told us." My eyes managed to wander around the room. Twiddling his thumbs while staring deep into the crackling, blazing fire, Cassidy couldn't bear to look at me anymore. Domino was polishing her beloved sniper in the room's corner, blocking out the conversation totally. The sound of footsteps came from the darkness that lingered outside of the cabin walls. Daken had returned to listen to the conversation.

"How did you do it?"

"What?"

"You know." Letting out a heavy sigh, it's obvious Silver isn't comfortable talking about this. But I have to know.

"We were the Bonnie and Clyde of our day. Except we stood for something, something that could change the world. You would never stop fighting for mutant rights and you definetly would never allow any government to stop you. But I was slowing you down. You were like some kind of unstoppable force going at 100 miles per hour; I couldn't match that. If I kept trying to tag along with you, we would of been caught."

I can't predict where this going at all. How the hell is she alive?

"But what I never told you was," Never a good line to hear.

"I'm a mutant."

What?

sabetoonth
07-14-2010, 05:40 PM
"You keep saying that," I grunt underneath the strain of Dynamo's crushing grip, "And yet here I am, still standing."

"Sir..."

"I know, I know," I interrupt quickly. "The suit can't withstand this kind of sustained pressure for long." And if I didn't know that, the various warning messages on my HUD would be my first indication of trouble. "Wait a minute..."

I look down. Dynamo's chestplate is pressed against mine. His arms are busy trying to crush me, leaving his weak point completely exposed. He lined up the shot perfectly for me!

"I hope you enjoyed your time at the Expo, Vanko," I begin. "Playtime's over."

"JARVIS, NOW!"

My HUD blacks out as the blinding unibeam fires directly into Dynamo's exposed powercore.

Ivan came too a few moments later his armor was on its back he could hardly move. Looking down the chest was hardly still there. Thank god he though, if it had given way he was likely to have died in the blast. He tried to see the CD drone, but he couldn’t see anything. He opened the cockpit, reaching down into it he clicked away on a very small keyboard, the lights lit up, turned green, and the numbers went from 00:00 to 00:20 and turned red. Running as fast as he could through the building Ivan made it outside and kept going. Ivan Vanko would not be caught. He couldn’t be caught, deported, imprisoned or meet the hands of any form of failure at the hands of the Americans.

00:19

He pushed past an old man with a can and glasses.

00:16

Ivan tripped on a flight of stairs rolled to the bottom.

00:14

Vanko rose to his feet and ran with a slight limp for the exit to the expo.

00:10

Ivan disapeared into a crowd of fleeing pedestrains to the gate after stealing a hoodie and a Stark Industries Baseball cap as a disguise. He would live to fight another day.

00:00

The Crimson Dynamo armor exploded, destroying the unique hybrid of Iron Man, and Crimson Dynamo. Looking into the sky one would have seen an explosion as the Dynamo Drone exploded in reaction to the armor detonation. The plans where in his lab, his lab was not far off, he would clean up, clean out and buy a ticket back home before morning.

Eddie Brock
07-14-2010, 11:46 PM
Araña

"Hija. Anya!" I open my eyes very slowly at the sound of Dad's voice. "You need to hurry. You're going to miss the bus." Noticing my sluggishness, Dad asks, "Are you feeling alright, Anya?"

It's an interesting question. I feel like my stomach's riding an old wooden rollercoaster, and it feels like the Rockettes are performing on my skull. I woke up this morning in a cold sweat, feeling like I wanted to die, and only through the grace of God was I able to get back to sleep.

So my only answer is, "No."

Frowning, Dad puts the back of his hand against my forehead. "You're burning up." With a sympathetic look - though I very much doubt he understands what my body feels like right now - he says, "I don't think you're in any condition to go to school today. I'll call the principal."

It's funny, you know? Every kid dreams of having a sick day, but when it actually comes, you want nothing more than to be healthy. As nice as it will be to spend the day watching reruns of early '90's sitcoms with a trash can beside my bed, there's no part of me that's thankful I won't have to face school today.

Dad comes back into my room a few minutes later, carrying said trash can. "I hate to leave you like this, but I need to go to work. If you're not feeling better by this afternoon, call me. You might have a virus."

As if it can sense the presence of the trash can, my stomach decides to empty itself. I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say: you probably have the same look on your face as Dad did watching me.

***

After about an hour or so of laying in bed, only moving to bury my face into the trash can, I finally muster up the strength to cross the bedroom to my computer. Actually, I do feel a little better after all that hurling.

miss_corazon is now available.
NightElfMage42 (cell): bailing on the Bio test eh?
miss_corazon: purely coincidental...ive spent the whole morning puking
NightElfMage42 (cell): that's what they all say
miss_corazon: want me 2 demonstrate for u? uve got those nice new shoes...
NightElfMage42 (cell): glad you noticed, but i'll pass
NightElfMage42 (cell): feel better, though
miss_corazon: thx im not so bad rite now...kinda hungry actually
NightElfMage42 (cell): alright. take it easy
miss_corazon is away.

***

"Alright, ladies, the match against Midtown is this weekend. As you all probably know, we haven't beaten Midtown in twelve years. Well, I wasn't captain for those twelve years. So this weekend, we start a new streak.

"We're starting today with a five-on-five scrimmage. Anya Corazon is sick today, so, Julia, you're going to be our striker."

"Replacing me that quickly?" I smirk, dropping my bag at the edge of the grass.

Nina looks at me strangely. "I thought you were sick. You weren't in school today."

I shrug. "I got better." I really don't have any explanation for my miraculous turnaround, either. In the morning, I felt like I wanted to die. Now? I feel like I could take on the world. Maybe I just had food poisoning or something.

"Alright, well, you're in, then." Nina then points a threatening finger. "But I want you to go slow. We need you this weekend, and you can be running around if you're still sick."

I punch Nina lightly on the arm as I jog past her. "I'm fine. Trust me."

Andy C.
07-15-2010, 04:59 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



By the time I get back in to the penthouse, every muscle in my body is just pumping lactic acid, burning every time I move. I'm breathing in ragged gasps, trying very very hard not to throw up all over Norman's carpet. Fighting two different super-villains and then having to flee across town from a squadron of black HAMMER choppers really takes it out of you, especially when you have a cracked rib from taking a super-powered punch, and a huge bruise on your shoulder from Black Cat's chain-ball thing. I'll bet that Iron Man guy never feels like passing out just trying to get home after a night of crime-fighting.

I check my phone to see if there are any missed calls--I swear, the only time anyone ever feels like calling Peter Parker is when I'm running around as Spider-Man and can't actually answer--and sure enough, I've got a voicemail. Don't recognize the number, though. Might as well see what it is...

"Hello, I'm trying to reach a Mister...Peter Parker. This is Gregory Bestman, head of Admissions at Empire State University, and I'm calling to let you know about some recent developments regarding your submission to the recent ESU Science Fair."

Yeah, yeah, I lost, I know. What, are you calling to let me know that I extra-lost or something?

"We've recently received some information revealing that one of the scholarship recipients had actually violated the rules of the Science Fair, having received help from an outside source. We tried to review the decision with both of the Fair's judges, but Doctor Octavius was unfortunately unavailable for deliberation. Given that Dr. Connors is the one granting internships at his lab, however, we have decided that his judgment has priority. We will be stripping the initial recipient of his scholarship on the grounds of his violating our code of ethics, and granting the money instead to the next runner-up....namely you, Mister Parker."

.....whoah.

"Anyway, we wanted to touch base with you to let you know of these developments, and we look forward to seeing you here at Empire State."




.......whoah.



I mean, okay, granted, it sucks for the guy who cheated, and getting the win because someone else got themselves disqualified is nowhere near as cool as winning it yourself, but holy crap, I'm going to ESU! That means I'm actually going to get to work in the same labs where Reed Richards cut his teeth, where Dr. Connors started rocking the world of genetics.....sure, I didn't win the internship to go with it, but I might get to take one of his classes!

And it means I'll get to go to college with--

....oh hey, Harry sent me an IM.

HobSon136 has sent you a message:

HobSon136: Pete, you up? I heard someone thumping around in the hallway.
Amazular15: Yeah, that was me. Sorry. Can't sleep.
HobSon136: Dude, when did you get in? You ducked out before dinner, and I didn't see you come back in.
Amazular15: Nah, I got back in a few minutes ago. Spend enough time sneaking in and out of Uncle Ben and Aunt May's house, you eventually get good at it I guess.Okay, that much is true. For the first few months I had my powers, I'd hop out of my bedroom and hit the town pretty much the split second they went to bed. It's a little trickier now that it's a high-rise penthouse, but I manage.

HobSon136: So I gotta ask-- where exactly do you keep going when you're sneaking out like that?....damn. You'd think after all this time I would have come up with a good excuse for where I just happen to run off to whenever Spider-Man shows up.

I glance over to my mask and hoodie sitting on the night-stand....and right next to it, I see my camera. And a light pops on in my head.

Amazular15: I'm out 'Spider-Watching'
HobSon136: ....you're what now?
Amazular15: I go out and I see if I can spot Spider-Man. I mean, he's usually doing stuff around this part of town anyway, right? And I've been dying to get some cool photos to get better use out of my camera. So I figured why not see if I can get some pictures of the Web-Slinger in action?Heh, 'Web-Slinger.' I like that.

HobSon136: ....you have the weirdest hobbies, you know that?
Amazular15: Hey, it passes the time. And who knows? I might get a really good one and sell it to, like, Time Magazine or something.
HobSon136: Whatever you say, Pete. Just don't stomp around the house whenever you come in, you'll wake up Bernard.
Amazular15: Oh yeah, sorry. And hey, don't tell your dad that I was late on curfew?
HobSon136: Honestly, man? I don't think he even really notices what's going on in this place these days. I've had Liz over here, like, a dozen times way past curfew and he hasn't said anything to me. I don't think he's gonna flip at you for wandering around looking for Spider-Man pictures.
Amazular15: ....yeah, I guess you're right.
HobSon136: Speaking of Spider-Man, though, did you see him fighting that big Rhino guy tonight? They caught the whole thing on the news, freakin' epic, man.
Amazular15: Nah, I missed it. I was on the completely wrong side of the neighborhood when I heard about it.
HobSon136: Too bad. I would've loved to have seen some pics from that. Especially that kung fu hottie that he ran into after.Oh good. Now the whole world apparently knows about my little cat-burgling stalker. Next time Black Cat shows up, I should probably set her straight before it gets all blown out of proportion and becomes a.....I don't know, a 'thing.'

Speaking of 'things,' another IM window pops up.

NrrrdGrrrl65 has sent you a message:

NrrrdGrrrl65: OMG PETER! I saw you fighting that monster thing on the news! Are you okay?!
Amazular15: Hey Gwen. Yeah, I'm fine. I mean, my guts feel like they've been turned into mush and I think I might have cracked a rib when he punched me, but I'm fine. I've fought that guy like a dozen times before....granted, he didn't have superpowers any of those times, but still.
NrrrdGrrrl65: A cracked rib? Seriously?
Amazular15: Cracked, bruised, something that makes it really unpleasant to slouch forward when I'm at the computer.....as I just learned the hard way.OWWWWWW.

HobSon136: Like, I know all the attention was on the big guy and how much damage he did, but I wanna know a little more about the girl with the ball and chain. Did you see her?
Amazular15: ....um, no, I was on the wrong side of the neighborhood, remember?
HobSon136: Oh yeah, right right. Lemme see if I can find a link for ya. You have GOT to see this babe, she's unbelievable!Heh, believe me Harry, you have no idea. Granted, she's a criminal and she's evil I guess, but still.....

NrrrdGrrrl65: So what was with the bad guys tonight? Did somebody get bitten by a mutated rhinoceros?
Amazular15: Nah, from what I could tell, the guy's been wired up into some kind of cybernetic battle-suit, like the one that Iron Man has only nowhere near as advanced. Or as user-friendly. If he wasn't trying to kill me, I would've felt sorry for him; it looked really painful.
NrrrdGrrrl65: Do you know where he came from? Maybe it was the same people who sent the Shocker!
Amazular15: That's what I'm thinking. Shocker was hired by this guy named the Big Man, this local mob-boss who used to be called Tombstone and now is apparently trying to buck up against some other mob boss to take over the city, and I'm just trying to be as much of a pain in his butt as possible. The guy inside the Rhino suit used to be some brainless muscle for Big Man, so I think it's safe to assume it's the same line of work.
NrrrdGrrrl65: And that cat girl? The skanky-looking one who was trying to get into your costume?
Amazular15: That's....that's a whole other thing.'Skanky-looking?' That's a little bit of a low blow there. Granted, Black Cat's getup was clearly meant to show off her....assets, but it was obviously designed with more functionality in mind than just pure sex appeal.

Then again, Gwen's always been pretty inhibited in that particular department, so I guess anything a little revealing would come off as 'skanky' to her. I mean, I can't imagine Gwen wearing something like that outfit....



.......stop that. Stop that right now, Parker.

HobSon136: Okay, found a good link for ya. This one's not as grainy as all the other ones:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z4XRVmlp9SY
Amazular15: Neat. I'll check it out in a sec.NrrrdGrrrl65: So what's this 'whole other thing' about?
Amazular15: Oh, right. She's "Black Cat," some kind of super-groupie wannabe, who apparently has some weird obsession with Spider-Man. She knocked over a jewelry store the other day to try and get my attention, then she goes all ninja assassin on me tonight after I'm already worn out fighting Rhino. I have no idea what her deal is. It's a shame she's a bad guy, because she was...something else.
NrrrdGrrrl65: Hmph. You did eventually catch her, right?
Amazular15: ....not so much. She got away when the HAMMER folks started chasing after me. But I'm sure I'll run into her again before too long.
NrrrdGrrrl65: Yeah, won't that be fun.HobSon136: So whaddya think?
Amazular15: Wait, is that jealousy I detect? Someone getting all bent out of shape because I said she was hot?
HobSon136: ......dude, what?
Amazular15: Oh crap, wrong convo! I was talking to Gwen.
HobSon136: LOL my bad dude.I inwardly sigh a little bit of relief, that A) I didn't send that message to Gwen and start a big 'thing' tonight, and B) that didn't happen earlier and end up with me accidentally spilling my secret identity to Harry. I should probably be a little more careful about what I say when it comes to the mask-and-webs stuff.

I switch topics--and IM windows--to try and steer the conversation into a little less uncomfortable waters.

Amazular15: Oh! Other news! I got a call today telling me that one of the Top 5 from the Science Fair got disqualified for cheating. Sucks for them, but it turns out I was the next runner up, so I'm getting the scholarship money!
NrrrdGrrrl65: :wow:.....AWESOME!
Amazular15: I know, right?! We're gonna go to college together! .....well, for like a year anyway. Fifth place is only a 25% scholarship.
NrrrdGrrrl65: Well hey, it's better than nothing, right? You said you were going to look for other ways to raise the money, weren't you?
Amazular15: Yeah, that's true. This'll make it a whole lot easier, though.
NrrrdGrrrl65: I feel kind of bad for whoever it was that got disqualified. Wonder who it was?
Amazular15: Guess we'll find out tomorrow when they come up to me and threaten my life. Another angry genius scientist with a chip on his shoulder, why does this sound familiar?
NrrrdGrrrl65: Well hey, you handled Max Dillon just fine when he turned himself into Electro. I'm sure you've already handled the worst of what Midtown High can throw at you in terms of teenage super-villains.
Amazular15: Heh, true enough. Anyway, I'm gonna get to bed. Wanna swing by the comic shop after school tomorrow and pick up our selections?
NrrrdGrrrl65: Can't. Eddie's taking me out with his friends to go to a movie.
Amazular15: Oh yeah....how's that going, by the way?
NrrrdGrrrl65: It's......going.
Amazular15: .....that good, huh?
NrrrdGrrrl65: Anyway, you're right, it's time for bed. Good night, Peter.

NrrrdGrrrl65 has signed off.Well, that was....abrupt. Guess I hit a nerve.

I surf around my regular pages for a few more minutes before I finally decide it's time for some sleep. Here's hoping cracked or bruised or whatevered ribs heal up as quickly as most of my other wounds have, or else sitting in class all day tomorrow is not going to be fun at all.

As I start to drift off to sleep, I can't help but wonder who got axed from the Science Fair. I mean, it can't be Gwen or Deb, because Deb's not the type to cheat, and Gwen is....well, Gwen. Maybe Robert Farrell; his gyro-skateboard thing did look a little shady. Or that Living Brain computer thing, or....

....oh, freaking duh. Blackie Drago and his VULTURE suit! I mean, Deb accidentally let it slip that he was getting help from that Mr. Toomes guy, right? Oh man, if it was him who got disqualified because I outed him for cheating.....


....eh, I'll deal with it in the morning. And like Gwen said, I've already fought the worst of the super-villains my high school can offer.....right?

sabetoonth
07-15-2010, 05:38 PM
Bruce Banner sat in the conference room. When done viewing the footage of Logan, the word had reached HAMMER that he was traveling with a band of mercenaries. They sat him down to watch any footage they could scrounge up of it’s members. Which was close to zilch.

Domino had been caught on camera by a security system a few years ago, her comrades didn’t really have much even on paper.

Sean Cassidy:The Banshee, can use his supersonic voice to fly, also an expert pilot.

Silver Fox: Logan’s lover before he took Magneto’s side. Only footage they can get is of her and Logan again, grainy security footage.

Daken: Nothing, no photo, no footage, like the guy is a ghost.

Bruce was reading over the files for the umpteenth time when one of Ross’ men opened the door to the room he had been held up in for nearly a day.

“We have news on their location, General wants you ready within an hour.” Bruce nodded and the soldier exited the room without a sounds closing the door behind him with a thud.

bkhedr
07-17-2010, 06:52 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg



The interrogation had been brief but fruitful, having ended when Edward admitted to doing odd jobs for the man known only as the Red Ghost.

An interesting moniker that the Vision now considered in relation to himself, with his red face and ghost like intangibilty, as he floated silently and stealthily towards the skyscraper Edward identified as the Red Ghost's lair.

As far as the Vision had been able to gather, the Red Ghost was once a high ranking Russian scientist who, after the Ultron intelligence was lost, spent decades studying the data collected on it before it, and he, disapearred. Now the man was in New York, and it was very unlikely that he, unlike Karpov, Lukin, and the Widow Maker, was not searching for the prize that had eluded him for so long. A prize the Vision was determined to get to first.

As he drew nearer the building, the synthezoid reached out across the airwaves, identifying any security measures in place and deactivating them remotely.

Having thus cleared the way, the Vision approached the building and simply floated through the outer walls and was shocked to find the man he had been searching for waiting for him.


"Ahh there you are at last." The old man said with a smile as he stood in the center of the room and eyed the Vision. "Greetings synthezoid. The Red Ghost bids you welcome to his abode."


http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg



"You have been expecting me." The still corporeal Vision stated with a tone that just barely hinted at his surprise as he drifted closer to the center of the room and to the Red Ghost himself who, for his part, stood boldly with arms clasped behind his back.

"Of course I have synthezoid, of course I have." he said egotistically "One cannot seek me out without my becoming aware of his efforts."

"Then you know why I am here."

"You are in search of the Ultron intelligence." The Red Ghost answered with a slight tilt of his head "You believe it holds the secrets to your true identity. Your...true nature."

"Yes." The Vision said as he solidified and landed softly on the metallic floor of the Red Ghost's recluse. "Can you help me?"

"Of course I can." The Red Ghost says with a widening grin "Why else would I have allowed you to find me?"

Nimibro
07-18-2010, 04:39 PM
http://img39.imageshack.us/img39/6606/docockbanner.png (http://img39.imageshack.us/i/docockbanner.png/)

NYC MERCY HOSPITAL

I watch on Mary Alice's room, as she's connected to all these machines, both of us knowing that though she worked all of her adult life on machines and all of her intelligence on these mere devices, they are not going to save her, nor my arms. Nor ME. Normal people would think of how ironic this situation may be, but now I finally see that their opinion have no matter. I finally realized normal people are ignorant, idiotic and godless fools. Mary starts to move restlessly.


"O-Otto? Is that you?..."



"Ye-yes, Mary Alice… it's me, good ol' doctor Octavius"


"Otto… I'm so very very sorry… I know you loved me, but the truth is, that-"


"what, Mart Alice?"



"Otto, I can make peace with myself. All of this is not going to be any of my concern when god will take me. I feel his grasp otto. I feel him taking me."


"Mary? No… your'e the only love Iv'e ever had. Youv'e the only person who ever loved me."


"Otto, you are a good man. But I am so very sorry"


"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!"


As suddenly, I break from reality, everything is spinning around me, the arms, the experiment, mother, father, everything, all forming to Mary Alice and the room in the hospital.


"I NEVER loved you. You are PATHETIC. I always just PITIED you. And you will die alone, maddened and filled with sadness and anger. You will be a monster. The monster you always aspired to beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"


As I snap of the weird hallucination, Mary is unconscious, her monitor's line flat and the doctors running, checking, trying, here, there, not realizing she's dead. Just like they can't rea;ize that I'm dead too. The moment she died, I died from the inside. Not only because the only person who loved or even cared about me is dead. Because of the single fact she's dead because of me. She could have lived if she did not know me.


OCTAVIUS'S APARTMNENT


I sit on my bed, not crying, not talking, nor thinking or calculating. Suddenly, comes this one, single word. "Otto". The sound of it shatters me. "you killed me, Otto. I loved you and you killed me. Why?" in my mind I see her, telling me the same wrenching sentence again and again, with tears coming down her cheeks while she smiles.


"why do you smile? WHY DO YOU SMILE?!?! YOUR'E DEAD! YOUR'E DEAD! YOU LEFT ME ALONE!" I take all of my papers, and I throw them off my table in rage. This is the end of Otto Octavius... of my sanity... But something, sitting rather comfortably in my mind, says that it's not over yet. but soon... very soon...

Byrd Man
07-18-2010, 07:43 PM
"You think killing me will stop it?" The shield cut into the Skull's forehead. His face turned crimson.

"Always failing to see the bigger picture mein captain. Always thinking like some jingoistic thug. If we kill enough of them, we win. Nein....what was I planning here? Who was that American that escaped your clutches?"

Yes, that did it. For a brief moment he caught the him off guard. A knife shot out from his sleeve. He slashed across Captain's American's chest and kicked him off. He must be quick. He threw the knife at him, surely it will be blocked by his shield. He picked up the spear and leaped at Captain America.

Bouncing the knife away with his shield, Captain America stood up just as the Skull crashed into him with the spear. The two fight for control over the weapon, neither one giving up an inch. His muscle rippling, Captain American begins to inch the tip of the spear closer and closer to Skull's mouth.

"Open wide, Herr Skull. I promise this will only hurt a little bit."

Eddie Brock
07-18-2010, 09:52 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

"...Jarvis? Jarvis?"

Right. No power, no HUD, no Jarvis. Groaning under the weight of my armor, I pull myself to my feet slowly. The Mark III is a powerless shell at the moment, but at least my crazy plan worked. Vanko himself may have escaped, but the Crimson Dynamo - and his drone - were stopped. Vanko made the mistake of giving his name. There will be nowhere he can hide now, even with his powerful Russian friends.

"Iron Man, stand down," the Peacemaker barks through its synthesizer. It raises a charged repulsor at me. "You are wanted for questioning by Stark Industries."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," I mutter, rolling my eyes. Instinctively, I raise my hand in defense, but then I remember that I don't have power. I'm defenseless. "Uh-oh."

Just then, a white van comes swerving out of nowhere and blindsides the Peacemaker. The van spins around, and the back doors swing open. Rhodey stands at the edge, arm outstretched. "Tony, jump in!"

I take Rhodey's hand, and with a grunt, he helps pull me inside. No sooner have we slammed the doors shut than Pepper, behind the wheel of the van, punches the gas. As we peel out from the Main Plaza, I take off my helmet. "Rhodey, I've never been happier to see you," I remark.

"Well, Happy's busy trying to keep your guest entertained, and I wasn't going to leave Pepper to save your ass by herself," he explains. He helps pull off my boots before the van is rocked by something.

"We've got company," Pepper reports.

The Peacemaker's following us. What a persistent little thing. "Rhodey, hook me up to that emergency battery." I point to a bulky object in the corner of the van. Pepper brought it in case I couldn't get the suit recharged in time. I'm now applauding her foresight. After Rhodey hooks me up, I explain, "I'm only going to get one shot at this, so when I give the word, you need to open the doors for me."

Rhodey nods.

I charge my repulsor until the inside of the van is bathed in its light. "Pepper, tell me when." Pepper looks in the rear view mirror intently, somehow still keeping the van on a straight course. She looks at me and nods, and I bark, "Now!"

Rhodey throws open the van doors, and I rattle off one last repulsor blast. It hits the Peacemaker square in the jaw, sending him tumbling backwards. I lean forward and help Rhodey slam the doors shut once again, and I watch the Peacemaker bounce and roll along the ground.

Looking at Rhodey, I smirk. "Still sure you don't want one of these?"

Nimibro
07-18-2010, 11:02 PM
http://img39.imageshack.us/img39/6606/docockbanner.png (http://img39.imageshack.us/i/docockbanner.png/)
OCTAVIUS'S OFFICE

The day after Mary Alice died, I felt different. I felt… rather peculiar, like a demon that was created when Mary Alice died is ravaging my mind, rotting him, the thoughts lingering in my mind. Suddenly, this man, my boss,
Seward Trainer, enters the room, a 58, balding and tall.

http://img832.imageshack.us/img832/1035/mattfrewerwide.jpg (http://img832.imageshack.us/i/mattfrewerwide.jpg/)

"Otto, I will open at first that I am so very sorry that your assistant, Mary Alice, died from cancer after she was hurt in the experiment. Maybe she could have been here if-"

"If you wouldn’t hire the chimpanzees that finished the model. They did not know the build. They did not know the programming. They built it on the mere fact you gave them orders and they did them, not with caution or any emotion for it"

"No Otto. It is very simple: you miscalculated. You were WRONG. I also heard you were DATING your assistant, maybe if you could put work in place of personal life, you could have succeeded more. Maybe if you didn't had the ego to think like a logic man first and a self-proclaimed genius after, you could have saved her."

"You and Weisman are responsible! Don’t tell me I have too much of an ego to admit something you're wrongfully accusing me of! I will not take your incoherent, idiotic sayings and try to take them as logic, like your idiotic workers did not took the build as science or art, but as a mere assignment they only do for money!"

"What I was going to say, and what I wanted to say from the beginning of this conversation, was that in short… you're fired. You take your things and leave, because you're not wanted here anymore. You're finished."

"I WILL KILL YOU TRAINER! I WILL KILL YOU PERSONALLY WITH MY OWN HANDS! YOU CREEP! ARRGH!"

As the guards take hold of me and escort me quietly outside, I curse and threaten Trainer as much as I can. Now it IS over. Dr. Otto Octavius is over. A new thing, a demon, a son of mother radiation called in the mockery name I have been called so many times… "Dr. Octopus" is now in control, and unstoppable…

Bahamut
07-18-2010, 11:29 PM
Ghost rider: Origins

Blaze’s perilous journey began one summer day in 2005. The day was uneventful, and pretty laid back. That is, laid back by Blaze’s definition. So far that day him and his squad had booked a few speeders, some carjackers, and now in a high-speed chase with a convict, Leo Booth. We now go to highway 35 outside Austin, texas….

“You dumb pigs aren’t taking me back to prison this time!!!” Leo yelled, turning himself outside the window, shooting backwards at the cop cars in pursuit. The bullets hit the windshields, and hit some of the drivers, forcing them out of pursuit, Leo speeding up. “Nyeh heh heh heh heh! I’m unstoppable now!” Leo yelled again, speeding past a car carrier, grinning.

Far behind Leo however was one last pursuer before the reinforcement arrives…a motorcycle cop. A unique motorcycle cop at that; the only motorcycle cop to use an armored chopper. The cop sped past his fellow comrades, the ones in good enough shape saluting the chopper cop and yelling to avenge them and lock Leo up for good. The cop clenched the handlebars on his bike, eyeing a car carrier, grinning under his helmet.

“Hm…Jose said he’d get me into Mexico….once I hit the border, I’ll be free! Nyeh heh heh heh hahhhh!!!!....huh?” Leo’s laugh trailed off as he heard an achingly familiar roar of an engine, looking in his rearview mirror at the car carrier he passed to see a chopper launch itself off the top of the carrier like it were a stunt ramp, the cycle flying straight for the car, the front wheel ramming itself into the back windshield of Leo’s car.

“Pull over, Leo! Let’s not make this as difficult as the first time…” The cop said grinning, a shotgun aimed at Leo.

“Grrrr…..Bite me, Blaze!!!!” Leo yelled, whipping his pistol out at Blaze, opening fire!

Blaze gunned the reverse gear, the bullets barely grazing him, one nailing him in the chest. “Oof! Ugh….mom failed to mention the kick you get wearing these vests…better than crapping out a slug though.” Blaze said to himself, raising his front wheel up, the wheel squealing on the trunk of leo’s stolen car, riding up the top, then quickly turning the bike around on the roof, landing on the hood of the car, facing leo, Blaze guns the chopper motor and rams the front wheel into the windshield of the car, pinning and grinding at Leo’s shoulder like a buzzsaw.

“AAAAARGH!!!!!!!!!!!” Leo screamed in pain, swerving into the right shoulder, crashing into the jersey barrier, his head banging into the spinning wheel, giving him a black and red tire mark down one side of his face.
“Whoaaaaa! Notgoodnotgood!!!!” Jonny yelled as the car drove to the shoulder and plowed into the barrier, pulling himself forward on the bike, the bike itself going backwards, Jonny landing relatively unharmed on the roof of the car as it crashes into the barrier. “Oof!!!......*whew* what a ride! Who wants to do that again?....Anyone?” Jonny asked, peering upside down in the driver window, Leo knocked into a daze. “Youuuu….biserable mastard…..” Leo muttered as he drifted out of consciousness. “Well….you have the right to remain silent….and asleep. Anything you say won’t be much…you have a right to an attorney, yada yada. You know this song, sing with me!” Blaze said smiling, dragging leo out of the car, and cuffing him as some damaged police cars and the reinforcements arrive.
“Got Booth again, huh blaze?” asked one of the officers, looking at Leo. “Yup. Some people don’t learn.” Blaze replied. “Well hop back on your bike. There’s some trouble outside the border of Eagle pass. “ “What’s that got to do with me? They got their own squad I think, they’re big boys.” Replied Blaze, the tone of respect for the fellow precinct in his voice. “It’s….Roxanne. Those Aztec ruin dissapearences we keep hearing about? Well… now she’s gone too.” The officer said solemnly, Blaze looking up, fear and righteous anger burning in his eyes. “Book this scumbag….I’m going to Eagle Pass. Tell them Blaze is en route!” Said Jonny sternly as he ran to his bike, propping it up, then he started to drive down the highway fast. What would begin as a possible hoax bust would change Jonny’s life forever.

Eddie Brock
07-18-2010, 11:31 PM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

Spacker Dave and I walk into the cafeteria. He's become my only friend on the inside. It's nice to have one person who doesn't want to kill me. I actually believe his story, too. He's made some mistakes, admittedly, but he wants to set things right. Unfortunately, like me, he's stuck in here.

An inmate bumps into me, smirking as he does. A couple of other inmates whistle at me tauntingly. I've become used to this treatment.

"You gotta do something, man," Dave says as if it were that simple. "How long do you really think it'll be until one of these guys makes a move?"

I've already considered that a thousand times over. Every time I'm in the open, I've gotta have eyes in the back of my head. I'm always worrying that one of these inmates will come up behind me with a shiv. I'm always worrying that someone will try to choke me out in the showers. I'm never safe, but I'm also outnumbered. If I fight back, I'm going to draw even more attention to myself than I already have.

"Who's that?" I ask, motioning to a burly inmate with bleached hair. He looks to be about seven feet tall with biceps bigger than my head. By virtue of his size and the way the other inmates are arranged around him, I figure he's gotta be someone in a position of power around here.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Dave answers, "That guy? I don't know his name, but everyone calls him 'The Russian.' I hear he used to be a hitman or something. He's serving more life sentences than I can count." Dave looks at me worriedly. "What're you thinking, Frank?"

"He's in charge around here, right?" Dave nods. "Well, if I want to live through next month, I need to send a message." Tucking my tray under my arm, I march over to the Russian's table.

"Hey."

The Russian turns his head to look at me, and I slam the metal tray against his face. Everyone at the table jumps to their feet, and the Russian holds his nose with anger burning in his eyes. One of the guards steps in and pulls me back, informing me that I'll be spending the night in solitary for my little stunt. I watch the Russian and his cronies staring me down as I'm pulled away.

"You're crazy!" Dave shouts over the dull roar of the cafeteria. "The Russian's going to kill you for that!"

Let him try.

Byrd Man
07-19-2010, 12:03 AM
Union Square

Luke Cage strode into the office building, giving a sigh of relief as he left the hot summer air for the cold air conditioned environment.

"Gotta love that AC, huh?" the security guard asked. The large man laughed and nodded in agreement.

"You know where the DSS department is?"

"Third floor, third door on your left when you get out the elevator."

"Thanks."

Cage walked through the hallways and rode the elevator, coming to a stop at the Manhattan offices of the New York Department of Social Services. Inside the office was a file he needed, a file he was ordered to find by the man he now owed his whole life to. The spooky man who stood in the shadows. The man who nobody except him knew was blind.

The man known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.


*****


Greenwich Village


"We really need to stop meeting like this," Dakota North said to the man across the restaurant table from her. Twice, against her better judgment, she had met the man and violated one of the rules they had been given.

"I know this violates the rules," Frank Brubaker said. "But I don't really care about that. You're a nice woman. I mean, we work together so much we may as well be partners."

"Lower your voice!" Dakota hissed. "It's bad enough we know each others names, and we're meeting like this. Don't talk about what we do in public like this."

"I don't think the big man is gonna get wise to us."

"And you really want to take that chance?"

"It's worth it."

The two sat in silence for a time, looking around the cafe as other people went about their business.

"So....what do you think about him?"

"Who?"

"You know, the big man. One who hides in the shadows."

"I don't know much about him, but...I-...I owe him. He gave me justice."

"Same here....so what did he do for you?"

She looked off into the distance, her eyes glazing over with the thoughts of the past in her head.

"I gotta go," Dakota said with a shake of her head. She reached into her purse and pulled out a few bills. "We're pushing it. I'll see you tonight."

Ed stayed seated and watched Dakota leave the restaurant.


*****

Cage walked outside the office building, a manila folder in his arms. He'd had to cash in a favor to get the file. The group had helped the file clerk eight months ago when an arsonist had gotten off on burning down her house. The man was currently in Ryker's, just now regaining the use of his hands.

Walking down the street, Cage ducked out of the pedestrian traffic and retreated down into the subway station. He found a bench to sit on and began reading through the file.

The guy was young. Still just a kid. Their usual recruits were always older, there wasn't a member of the group under the age of 25. But Cage saw potential just reading through the file. An orphan two times over, he certainly had enough injustices done to him that would lead to anger and hostility if groomed right. Not much of a physical specimen, but Shang Chi could change that with his training regiments. And as he got older and matured into his body, there's no telling how imposing he could become.

But it didn't matter what Cage, thought. What mattered most was what the Devil thought. If he liked what was in the file, then this would be the newest Devil. Cage looked up at the sound of the PA system announcing his train had arrived.

"Peter Parker," he said with a final glance at the file. "We'll see, kid."

Closing the file, he stood and walked towards the subway train.

Rain Dog
07-19-2010, 05:03 PM
LAST TIME ON http://img442.imageshack.us/img442/3980/howardbannercopy2.png. . .

“There’s too many of them Howard!”

“I can do it! I just need more time to calibrate the Gnun’Syzafasef Crystal!”

“Dhere’s no time fo daht! Quick! Get to da choppa!! I’ll fend zem off! Aauguguguguguahhh!!”

KA-BOOM!!!
http://img830.imageshack.us/img830/1946/horribleheartmonsterbyc.jpg


“HISSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!”

“NOOOO!”

“Quick, Huang Xi, land the chopper away from that heartatrox!”

*crackle*

“Roud and crear Miss Mantis!”

“Damn! I can’t believe we lost Duke!”

“We can’t dwell on that Howard! We need to get out of here before—“

“Hmmmmmgoing somewhere?”

http://img833.imageshack.us/img833/2170/newyog2.jpg

“NOO! Yog Sothoth!!”

“In the horrific mass of flesh!”

“Howard, we have no choice! Activate the crystal!”

“Here goes!!!”

http://img193.imageshack.us/img193/640/bombingiraqmarch2003byu.jpg

Also, this:
http://forums.superherohype.com/showpost.php?p=18441597&postcount=612 (http://forums.superherohype.com/showpost.php?p=18441597&postcount=612)


We now return to…. http://img442.imageshack.us/img442/3980/howardbannercopy2.png!!!!!

Z9TYG9gTshU&feature=related

The suns had set and me and Mantis were still ****ing hammered. Rocket hasn’t come down from the room since his weird little vengeance monologue and quite frankly, I was starting to worry. Not so much for his safety but mostly because I left all the crazy up there by itself to fester into something worse. For all I knew, he did nothing but dwell on his thirst for vengeance, his sheer hatred for this Dan character and the unfair, callous universe that allowed this to happen to them. He could have snapped, and at any moment, come storming down the steps with his plasma cannon clenched in his paw and turn this saloon into the next Columbine. I should probably do something about it.

But I just sat down so…

“Barkeep…another shot of tequila!”

“God damn…for a little guy you can really take ‘em back!”

“Y-Y-You don’t tell me what to do…man…” I mumble, waving a feathery finger at him.

“…Sure, kid. Another shot of tequila. Is your lady friend gonna be okay?”

I glance over my shoulder to see Mantis shouting something unintelligible, then jumping and vigorously making out with some toad-like creature before crumpling to the ground.

“Probably. I dunno I’m not a ****ing doctor. J-just do your job!”

He frowned and slid another tiny glass over at my direction. Just as I went to grab it, a thunderous voice filled the room.

“SENTIENTS! IT IS NOW TIME FOR THE FAMOUS RAXXUS SALOON HOEDOWN!!”


Everyone in the bar let out a unanimous cheer, and a tentacle creature crawled up onto a piano bench and began tickling the ivories.

“PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR FIRST DANCING COUPLE, DAN AND NANCY!!!”

Ooohhh ****.

The bar patrons clapped as a tall, dark, and handsome man stepped out onto the dancefloor holding the hand of a busty, raccoon-like humanoid. The octopoid pianist started up a new tune and the two began dosey doe-ing before a cheering mob. I needed to go stop Rocket from doing whatever insane thing he said he was gonna do before I got schwasted. I gulp down my last shot and hop of the barstool, then immediately realize what a horrible decision I’ve made. The moment my feet touch the ground, the room starts spinning and I lose all coordination. I try my best to put one foot in front of the other but immediately fall, face-first, into the ground. I use every bit of willpower I have to lift my head up, only to see exactly what I didn’t want to see: Rocket coming down the steps.

Man. I ****ed up.

Eddie Brock
07-19-2010, 11:00 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

"It was you, Obadiah."

Obadiah glances up from his desk at me. He gives me a curious look. "What's that, Tony?"

I don't flinch. "You're the one who's been dealing under the table. You've been selling our products and designs to murderers."

Obadiah puts down the paper he was reading and removes his glasses. Except for a small sigh, he makes no other noise. No protest. Leaning back in his chair, he folds his arms and waits for me to continue.

"The Crimson Dynamo was built around a Harbinger blueprint. I checked the records. The only person to access those files in the last six months was you," I explain. I toss the file from under my arm onto Obadiah's desk. Silently, he opens the file and finds a copy of my search. "The time stamp doesn't lie. You accessed those files the night before Dynamo's attack. You were the one who supplied his designs."

Obadiah merely furrows his brow.

"Because you were at the Expo, you weren't able to get to the mainframe and erase the records."

Obadiah clears his throat. "You remind me so much of your father," he says at last. Closing my file and sliding it across the desk at me, he continues, "What do we do now, Tony?"

"I've already turned over the evidence to the authorities," I reply. Obadiah nods understandingly. He's taking this surprisingly well. "Why, Obadiah? Why do this?"

"When your father died, this company faced a crisis. It was his name on the side of the building, his vision driving us forward," Obadiah begins calmly. "His death came as a surprise to all of us. We didn't have a plan moving forward." For the first time, Obadiah meets my gaze. I can see the resignation in his eyes. "Someone had to keep this ship afloat."

"So you sacrificed the very ideals my father built this company on."

Obadiah leans back in his chair. "What do you want me to say, Tony? That what I did was wrong?" He nods. "Well, maybe it was, but you're new to this, so let me give you a little piece of advice. We're iron mongers, Tony. That's what we do. One way or another, people are going to kill each other. So I made a little profit from it." His anger begins to flare up now. "Under my tenure as acting CEO, this company saw its highest numbers since Vietnam! For that, I will not apologize!"

"What will the other board members think?" I ask disgustedly.

Controlling his temper, Obadiah laughs. "You think they don't know? Now, maybe they don't have file of evidence--" He waves his hand at my file. "--but I assure you that they all knew exactly what was going on. And they were all content to let it keep happening until you came along."

Obadiah stands up, straightening his suit.

"Like I said, Tony, you're just like your father. Headstrong, idealistic, determined." Obadiah walks around and sits down on the side of his desk. "I was content to let you have your wild goose chase. Apparently, I underestimated you. So congratulations, Tony. You win." He stares at me. "So now what are you going to do?"

I have to clear my throat. "I'm going to take this company back to basics," I answer confidently. "My father never wanted to fuel wars, create death. He wanted to make the world a better place to live in. He wanted to help use technology to its potential." I remove my tie clip and set it down on Obadiah's desk.

He smirks as he looks at it. "Microscopic recording technology? You know, I helped your father develop this."

"Nonlethal, military and police applications, just the kind of thing my father envisioned when he started this company."

Obadiah picks up the tie clip, examining it closely. "Speaking of microscopes, I hope you're ready, Tony." He closes his fist around the tiny object, looking directly at me. "They're all going to be looking at you now. How long until someone discovers your secret?"

Obadiah turns his computer screen around. For a second, I can't tell what I'm looking at. It just looks like a grainy black-and-white image. Then, it hits me. This is a capture from the Peacemaker's direct feed. When Rhodey opened the van doors and I didn't have my helmet on. The image is far from clear, but I can just make out my face in the pixels.

"Oh, don't act so surprised," Obadiah says calmly. "I've suspected this for a little while now. You just gave me the proof I needed." Turning his computer back around, he continues, "Don't worry. I'm not going to spill your secret. Instead, I'm just going to watch."

Obadiah smiles from ear to ear.

"The truth will come out eventually. And when it does, the sharks will smell the blood in the water. They'll all come for you, and I'll have a front row seat."

I turn and walk out of Obadiah's office silently. The authorities will be here any second to arrest Obadiah. And I won't just stand there and listen to his taunts.

Suddenly, I feel sick.

Andy C.
07-20-2010, 02:22 AM
FURY


DECADES AGO...


The Red Skull had gone insane. The spear combined with the stone was unstable power wise. The power would drive him away from sanity. He wouldn't be able to properly comprehend what was happening to him. The stone was a special type of machine that was far from complete and he did not have the means to perfect it. He was assured that the plan that the Skull concocted was already in motion and there was stopping it. He could hear the sounds of army boots running and someone shouting commands. Germany was dead and Zola would jump ship.

He saw the Howling Commandos. An unstoppable force of nature mowing through the German forces. He hated them. His fat little body waddled forward and he waved a white handkerchief at them.

"Ah, Herr Fury!" He wipe away the sweat off his forehead and was wheezing. "I notified your superiors about my wishes to defect. They are greatly interest in what I can bring to your army and country. I believe you already met two of them. Imagine what we can to Soviets? Come, come. I am assured that your costumed clown can deal with the Red Skull." He gave him a big smile.

"No," is all that Colonel Fury said as he glared coldly at Dr. Zola.

"...no, what?" Zola said, his smile beginning to waver a little.

"No, you're not getting out of this that easily. After all of your 'experiments,' all of the weapons and super-soldiers you've made in the name of the Third Reich, all meant for the purpose of world domination, and now that your side isn't winning, you think you can just squirm your way out of it? We're not diplomats here. We're the Howling Goddamned Commandos."

The other Commandos let out a cheer, but one without any sense of joviality. It was the sound of wolves howling to each other as they closed in on their prey.

"But....b-but...." Zola stammered, fumbling for anything to defend himself, "but I was contacted by an American spy! He...he said that General Eisenhower would welcome me if I defect!"

"General Eisenhower isn't here," Fury said, stepping forward with a fiery gleam in his eyes. "I'm here, you godless inhuman little sack of crap. I say you're an enemy to every human being on this planet...."

Colonel Fury gave a quick glance over Zola's shoulder, subtly signalling to Cohen to make his move. While the fat Nazi scientist was distracted by Fury, the young Jewish soldier plunged a knife into Zola's jugular vein.

"...and I say you don't get to defect," Fury spat as Zola gasped and gurgled, his own blood flooding his lungs, before collapsing dead before the Commandos.

"Thanks for letting me have the kill, Colonel," Cohen said as he sheathed his knife, making a point not to wipe off the blood first.

Fury drew his pistol, pointing it at the dead man's head.

"Never can be too sure," he said before firing two rounds into Zola's skull. The bullets ripped through flesh and smashed through bone....but there was no spray of blood or brain.

"Rebel. Knife."

'Rebel' Ralston drew a large Bowie knife from his sheath and handed it to the Colonel, who knelt down to the mad doctor's corpse and went to work.

The Howling Commandos looked on more in fascination and curiosity than disgust or horror as their commander peeled back the skin on Zola's head, scalping him like an Apache, then used the knife's pommel like a hammer to crack open the skull.

"Ah, hell," the Colonel moaned in annoyance when he saw what was inside.

Where the mad scientist's brain should have been, there was instead a small device, no bigger than a softball, bristling with wires and coils, all hooked to the Nazi's spinal column. In the center of it was a blinking red light, and what appeared to be a complex radio transistor.

"I'd heard that Zola was experimenting on something like this, something called 'remote neural animation.' He removes the brain, replaces it with that contraption there, and then the brain is kept alive in a jar somewhere while it controls the body by radio. Theoretically we could kill Zola a hundred times and he'd keep coming back as long as he's got another body to hook up."

Fury looked around the lab, a concerned look crawling across his face.

"So where the hell is his brain?"

Before they could search, the hallways echoed with the chatter of machinegun fire--the Germans were mounting a counter-attack. Fury signaled to the Commandos, letting them know it was time to move out.

First rule of war: victory first. Questions later.



NOW...



Having quickly overcome the initial surprise brought on by Fury's sudden arrival, the terrorist leader take a brief moment to take stock of his situation before flashing his opponent a sinister grin.

"You've impressed me old soldier. I'll grant you that. But that doesn't mean that I'm at your mercy, or that I have to answer your ridiculous questions."

With that the terrorist leader raises his hand which, to Fury's amazement, enlarges and takes on the look of stone. Before Fury can react the terrorist leader slams his fist come club into the shimmering barrier entrapping him.

The shield shook violently without breaking before a second blow brought it crashing down.

"I may not get the chance to kill the Secretary of Defence today, but he does deserve to die for selling our country's out to those Madripoorian pirates, for weakening America." the terrorist said as he drew his side arm with a rocky hand.

"Oh he will most definately die, but not today.Today is all about you." He added as he aimed his weapon at Fury's head

The creature, whatever it was, had even more tricks up its sleeve than Director Fury had expected. Apart from its already catalogued abilities to change shape and make itself invisible, it could also generate enough physical strength to break down a Shi'ar particle shield. This new development was unexpected, but Fury maintained his poker face.

"Funny thing about that big rock hand," Fury said in a flat, analytical tone, "Those big fingers must give you a really clumsy grip."

With that, the old man lashed out with a lightning-fast kick, connecting with the gun's barrel and knocking it out of the terrorist's hand. Bobbing and weaving to avoid the oversized fist, Fury squeezed off a few rounds with his own .45 pistol, which bounced harmlessly off of the creature's force-field. In terms of pure offense, the old man knew he was probably not capable of much more than annoying the thing, at least not with the firepower he had on him.

Still, he knew that with the other Sons of Sam dead, the leader was the only one remaining, which meant that his operatives could lead the Secretary of Defense to safety, thus foiling the creature's plans for the time being.

His own survival was irrelevant. All that mattered was obtaining the objective.

As Fury closed in, the terrorist finally connected, his huge rocky fist landing right into the Director's midsection.

"Hrrrk!" he grunted, actually lifting off his feet and tumbling back.

The force of the blow normally would've been enough to impale a man straight through. Fortunately, Fury was wearing field gear made of 9-ply Kevlar and coated in experimental Beta Cloth. As it was, it still felt like taking a mule kick to the gut.

"I've gotta admit," Fury said as he tried to regain his breath, the wind knocked out of him, "I haven't been in many one-on-one engagements quite this challenging, and even those were at least a decade or two ago."

The old man popped off a few more rounds, doing little more than making noise as the creature's force-field caught them.

"But all that means is that I've got to hit just a little harder. And believe me when I say you have no idea how hard my organization can really hit."

The Director ducked under another rocky fist, slipping past the creature and bringing his knife to bear as he passed, slicing it under the arm. Hardly a flesh wound, but a wound nevertheless.

Fury was certain this thing would stop at nothing to kill him. And he would stop at nothing to prevent it from reaching its objectives.

The time for grandstanding and verbal pissing-contests was over. The old flame lit in his one good eye. Whatever the creature was, wherever planet it really came from, it could wait. All that mattered now was getting it out of this building.

Victory first. Questions later.

Watchman
07-20-2010, 08:59 AM
Bouncing the knife away with his shield, Captain America stood up just as the Skull crashed into him with the spear. The two fight for control over the weapon, neither one giving up an inch. His muscle rippling, Captain American begins to inch the tip of the spear closer and closer to Skull's mouth.

"Open wide, Herr Skull. I promise this will only hurt a little bit."

Coils of silver energy shot out at in random direction destroying parts of the castle. A wall feel apart. Stone rained down from around them. Skull inched the spear away from his face.

"You fool! The spear it is unstable! You'll bring the entire castle down around us." A violet silver light shot out from Skull's end hitting his face. He grabbed it and let out a shriek. He stumbled away. The spear continue to throw its unknown power around the castle.

"My face! What did you do to my face?" He lower his hands. The skull's face was now red and featureless. His blond hair mostly burnt off, his eyelids and lips were gone. He fumbled for his gun. His shaking arm was able to point it at Captain America.

"D-Die.."

The Question
07-21-2010, 04:54 AM
"Here she is. Our new masterpiece. The Scorpion formula."

Miles Warren presented a vial of green liquid to the members of the "New York Super-Hero Commission," as the project was now being called.

"Is it safe?" asked The Mayor. "I won't have you sticking that in any of the city's officers until it's been properly tested."

"It's very safe, Mr. Mayor," assured Warren. "It took quite a bit longer than it should have, what with Doctor Connors' insistence that his energies be focused on other projects..."

"As they should be," Norman interjected.

"... yes. As they should be. In any event, the whole process has proven to be very stable. Our new hero may experience some discomfort during the change, but he'll turn out just fine. Better than fine. Super, in fact, if you'll pardon the pun."

"Why a scorpion?" asked Norman.

"I was inspired by Spider-Man. New York's official super hero should be a bigger and better version of it's unofficial one. And much of our early research was with arachnids anyway. It was easier than reinventing the wheel."

"And of course, Mr. Smythe has been working on our new hero's hardware," said Norman. He pointed to Spencer Smyth, standing in the corner with his robotic creations on display.

"Thank you, Mr. Osborn. Our hero will be protected by flexible, lightweight body armor of my design. In time Osborp hopes to make it available to the police and the military, but right now this will be the field test for the prototype. Please excuse the green coloration, it is a currently unavoidable side effect of the chemical processes used in the material's creation. The main weapon is a prehensile robotic tail with a large retractible blade at the end, simulating a Scorpion's tail. Three robotic drones, also arachnid inspired in their design, will serve as tactical back up. Their AI is wirelessly connected to the same neural interface in the suit that control's the tail, allowing the wearer to give simple commands non-verbally."

"It's all very impressive," said The Mayor. "If a bit whimsical."

"We're talking about super heroes, Mr. Mayor. It needs to be a little showy as well as practical," said Norman.

"I suppose. I think I'll feel a little better about this once we've found someone who's willing to go through it all."

"Mr. Jameson and the Commissioner have that well in hand, I'm sure."

"Yes. It seems everything is in order here. I want a full report on the tests of that formula sent to my office immediately. Is that understood?"

"Of course," said Norman. "Is there anything else?"

"No, no. That should be all."

Just then, Norman's phone began to buzz in his pocket.

"Excuse me."

He took out his phone to look at the caller ID.

Fisk.

"Excuse me, Mr. Mayor, I have to take this."

"I can find my way out on my own. Good day."

As the mayor turned to leave, Norman shuffled off to the other side of the room to take his call.

"What is it?" he said.

"Norman, my good, dear friend, where are your manners?"

"I just got out of a meeting with the mayor. I'm a little nervous."

"Understandable. This will pass in time, trust me."

"Oh, how I live in anticipation of that day," Norman said, dryly. "What is it, Wilson?"

"It is about our arrangement. I have found a group of buyers. Very intrigued by the prospect. They are interested in lizard men."

"Lizard men? Wilson, that's absurd."

"True. But the customer is always right, correct?"

"I suppose so."

"Wonderful. Tell your people to start work on the lizard men immediately."

"Right away."

"Good day, Norman."

Norman rolled his eyes, forcing the next words out of his mouth.

"Good day, Wilson."

Norman hung up the phone and turned to Doctor Warren.

"Dr. Warren," he said. "That was our friend. He wants... lizard men, of all things."

"So soon?"

"Apparently. Connors has been doing research with reptiles. I'm authorizing you to take whatever you need from his notes. If he asks, tell him it's for a special contract. Top secret. You don't even know all the details. We don't have a deadline yet, but I would assume 'as soon as possible' is out motto for this work."

"This is all very absurd," said Warren.

"I'm well aware."

"How long are we going to put up with this?"

"As long as we have to, Miles."

"And you're just okay with this?"

"No," said Norman. "Not even slightly."

The Question
07-21-2010, 06:34 AM
"Thank you for the food," Lucia said.

Victor sat cross legged on the floor across from her. They were both feasting on bowls of oat meal and black coffee.

"I would not be a very good host if I left you starve to death," said Victor.

"That's true," said Lucia. She looked down into her bowl as she stirred around it's contents with her spoon.

"What are we going to do now?" she said.

"I am still working on a plan. I have been thinking about constructing a pirated radio set up. I am very good with electronics. We could continue to speak to the people that way. It would be a start, at any rate."

Lucia smiled.

"You know, I've heard of you," she said.

"You have?"

"Yes. Victor Von Doom. You're a bit of a legend in some circles. Quite the little hell raiser from what I've been told."

"I never accomplished much. Just pranks and petty crime. I was angry and stupid back then."

"And now?"

"Now I am much smarter."

"That's good to hear, Victor. Honestly, I think we're going to make quite a team."

The barn door opened very loudly and suddenly. Valeria was standing in the doorway, looking at the two of them with an icy stare. Victor stood.

"Valeria..." he said.

"Victor. Why are you having breakfast with a strange woman in our barn?"

She walked in. Her eyes moved towards the mattress Lucia was sitting on.

"Has she been sleeping here?" Valeria asked.

"Only the one night," said Victor.

"Of course," Valeria said. "Only the one night."

She turned to Lucia.

"Hello," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Valeria."

Lucia shook her hand.

"So I gathered. My name is Lucia."

"A pleasure to meet you."

She turned back to Victor.

"Explain."

"This is Lucia Von Bardas," he said.

"I know that. We've been introduced. Why is she here?"

"She needed a place to stay."

"Why did she need a place to stay?"

"I may have broken her out of prison."

"... oh." Said Valeria.

"Well," said Lucia. "He didn't actually break me out of prison."

"He didn't?" said Valeria.

"It was a police station," said Lucia. "I was on my way to trail. Not technically prison. If that helps any."

"It really doesn't," said Valeria. She turned back to Victor.

"You broke a criminal out of a holding cell and brought hr into out home?"

"Valeria, it's not like that..."

"Really? Are you sure? Because I'm fairly certain that breaking a criminal out of a holding cell and bringing her into out home is exactly what breaking a criminal out of a holding cell and bringing her into our home is like! What the hell were you thinking?"

"Valeria!" he said, sharply. "Lucia is a revolutionary activist. She was arrested for publicly talking to people about the problems in our government. She had not hurt anyone. Her only crime was trying to bring about social reform. I could not let that stand."

"So you broke her out of a jail cell."

"Precisely."

"My god," said Valeria. "You're doing it again."

"I am trying to do some good for our country."

"That's what you've always said!"

"This is different."

"How?"

"I'm not acting out of blind anger. I'm smarter."

"Smarter? Victor, do you have any idea what kind of danger this puts us in?"

"She will not be found. I am making plans for that."

"This is insane!"

"Valeria. Someone needed help. So I helped. I thought you of all people would approve."

Valeria fumed as she searched for a response.

"Well. At the very least you should have discussed this with father and I before you went off on this psychotic plan of yours."

"So. You will not turn us in?" asked Victor.

"Of course not," Valeria replied. She looked at Lucia, fighting back a stream of words she had to describe her feelings about the situation, and then quickly headed for the door.

"We will discuss this later," she said as she left, slamming the barn door behind her.

Victor turned to Lucia.

"I think she's going to like you," he said.

bkhedr
07-21-2010, 12:38 PM
FURY



The creature, whatever it was, had even more tricks up its sleeve than Director Fury had expected. Apart from its already catalogued abilities to change shape and make itself invisible, it could also generate enough physical strength to break down a Shi'ar particle shield. This new development was unexpected, but Fury maintained his poker face.

"Funny thing about that big rock hand," Fury said in a flat, analytical tone, "Those big fingers must give you a really clumsy grip."

With that, the old man lashed out with a lightning-fast kick, connecting with the gun's barrel and knocking it out of the terrorist's hand. Bobbing and weaving to avoid the oversized fist, Fury squeezed off a few rounds with his own .45 pistol, which bounced harmlessly off of the creature's force-field. In terms of pure offense, the old man knew he was probably not capable of much more than annoying the thing, at least not with the firepower he had on him.

Still, he knew that with the other Sons of Sam dead, the leader was the only one remaining, which meant that his operatives could lead the Secretary of Defense to safety, thus foiling the creature's plans for the time being.

His own survival was irrelevant. All that mattered was obtaining the objective.

As Fury closed in, the terrorist finally connected, his huge rocky fist landing right into the Director's midsection.

"Hrrrk!" he grunted, actually lifting off his feet and tumbling back.

The force of the blow normally would've been enough to impale a man straight through. Fortunately, Fury was wearing field gear made of 9-ply Kevlar and coated in experimental Beta Cloth. As it was, it still felt like taking a mule kick to the gut.

"I've gotta admit," Fury said as he tried to regain his breath, the wind knocked out of him, "I haven't been in many one-on-one engagements quite this challenging, and even those were at least a decade or two ago."

The old man popped off a few more rounds, doing little more than making noise as the creature's force-field caught them.

"But all that means is that I've got to hit just a little harder. And believe me when I say you have no idea how hard my organization can really hit."

The Director ducked under another rocky fist, slipping past the creature and bringing his knife to bear as he passed, slicing it under the arm. Hardly a flesh wound, but a wound nevertheless.

Fury was certain this thing would stop at nothing to kill him. And he would stop at nothing to prevent it from reaching its objectives.

The time for grandstanding and verbal pissing-contests was over. The old flame lit in his one good eye. Whatever the creature was, wherever planet it really came from, it could wait. All that mattered now was getting it out of this building.

Victory first. Questions later.

http://img194.imageshack.us/img194/7140/superskrullbanner4.jpg


The Super Skrull narrowed his eyes at his prey as they both circled each other warily in the cramped space below the press room.

The old human was proving to be quite stubborn and wily enough that killing him was becoming more of a chore than Kl'rt would have ever believed possible.

"Whoever you are human," Kl'rt snarled "You posses a true warrior's spirit, and for that he had earned a morsel of my respect."

With a sudden whip like crack, the Super Skrull rocky arm stretched out across the room.

The old man was fast, but he still had to strain and even then, barely managed to dive out of harm's way before the extended appendage smashed into the wall behind him tearing it wide open in the process and revealing the maintenance tunnels beyond.

The old soldier rolled to avoid another strike of the extended limb even as alarms began to blare overhead causing Kl'rt to raise his eyebrows at the speakers in mild annoyance.

Bringing down the wall had alerted those in the facility above to his presence. The Secretary of State would already be on the move and the chances of Klr't getting to him now without revealing himself were slim indeed.

Annoyance then quickly gave way to irritation as the old soldier, now brandishing a knowing smirk, rose once more and rolled in close with knife in hand.

As the old man closed Kl'rt raised a still human in appearance arm and waved it before him as if shooing away a fly.

As he did so the old man found himself smacked by an unseen force that hurled him across the room and slammed him hard against the wall before pinning him there, mirroring the hand that Klr't still had raised as directing the unseen force.

The source of Klr't irritation was not so much the failure of his mission, or the stubborness of the old soldier, but rather that he had the good fortune to come across a worthy foe only to now find himself forced to abandon the fortuitous situation.

As he eyed the old man he knew he could kill him in an instant, but the thought gave him no satisfaction. Killing such a warrior would be a pleasure best drawn out over as much time as possible.

His mind made up, Klr't dropped the force field and allowed the old man to fall to the floor.

He had to move, already he could here the sound of booted heels racing towards them.

The old man's eyes widened as his opponent's whole body began to change, his eyes become large and yellow, his ears elongated and pointed, his teeth fang like, his chin ribbed and his skin a scaly reptilian green.

Now Klrt stood revealed in his true form. His inhuman eyes still fixed on his enemy.

http://i15.photobucket.com/albums/a360/Goonie1/Reference%20Pictures/ReferencePhoto-SuperSkrull-Annihila.jpg

"Look upon the face of your enemy human." Klrt boasted "Look upon a true son of the star spanning Skrull empire and know fear." he added as he began to fade out into invisibility.

"For when next we meet I will take great pleasure in killing."

With that the Super Skrull vanishes from sight.

TrueMastermind
07-22-2010, 10:06 AM
The door to Mark Scott's office opened slowly. Scott walked into the room and plopped himself down in his comfy, leather chair. The square-jawed business man logged into his computer, using the same old password that nobody would ever decipher. Birds floated by the window, gliding on the blustery wind. Impatient, rude citizens honked their car horns at driving-impaired immigrants. The sound of workers hammering away at a nearby construction site that will seemingly never finish pounded on Scott's eardrums.

Everything was the same. Every damn day. Even the sounds of the ****ty secretary pleasuring Scott's sneaky boss right in his own office was a regular occurence. It was if the whole damn office was intertwined in some never-changing routine, a cycle that has become so natural that nobody could ever notice it.

Stepping away from his computer for a bit, Scott walked over to his "man purse", which was leaning against the ever so plain, white wall. Scott didn't waste the limited minutes he had off work, and going by what lurks in his obsidian black bag, it definetly shows.

Byrd Man
07-23-2010, 12:01 AM
Coils of silver energy shot out at in random direction destroying parts of the castle. A wall feel apart. Stone rained down from around them. Skull inched the spear away from his face.

"You fool! The spear it is unstable! You'll bring the entire castle down around us." A violet silver light shot out from Skull's end hitting his face. He grabbed it and let out a shriek. He stumbled away. The spear continue to throw its unknown power around the castle.

"My face! What did you do to my face?" He lower his hands. The skull's face was now red and featureless. His blond hair mostly burnt off, his eyelids and lips were gone. He fumbled for his gun. His shaking arm was able to point it at Captain America.

"D-Die.."

BLAM!

Captain America was thrown back as the bullet ripped through his chest. Falling to the floor like a sack of potatoes, the American hero rasped through gritted teeth.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The Skull shot three more times into Rogers' body, emptying the chamber into the super-soldier. The bullets penetrated through Cap's back, stopping short of his spinal cord.

The Skull stood smugly over Rogers, smiling down at him with his ruined face.

"You don't get off that easy!"

With a surge of adrenaline and rage, Cap slapped the Skull's legs out from under him and pinned the Nazi to the floor. Struggling with the Skull, Captain American put his hands around the Skull's throat and began to put as much pressure as he could on his neck.

He had his orders. The Skull was not to make it out of Hanover alive.

Mr. Majestic
07-24-2010, 12:10 AM
“So kid, can you do anything but brawl?” Victor asked as he entered the Danger Room. he had already set the program, it was just changing the look from cold steel to a martial arts dojo. Victor went through the styles he knew, Tiger, Monkey, Shotokan, list went on further, but he figured start the kid on Jeet Kun Do.

Placing his feet apart, one hand in loose fist held close to his face and the other held in a guard near his groin Victor prepared for what he was about to do: Kick this kid’s ass. No malevolent intention of course, just show the kid how martial arts can trump brawling.

Victor placed his feet apart standing on the balls of his feet. He held his hand in a loose fist near his face and the other in a guard near his groin. Victor said before lunging at him striking his jaw with a powerful punch, delivering another into his gut and then sweeping his legs out from under him.

“Ready Calvin?” Victor said pulling him from the floor.

Why am I lying down on the ground looking at the ceiling? I then turn my head slightly to the right and see Sabretooth standing there in a fighting stance. Now I remember what happened, he hit me. He asked me a question about if all I know is brawling and next thing I knew I ended up here.

I then lean up from off the ground and gather myself for a moment. I slowly get up to my feet.

“Brawling is the only way I know how to fight. My old trainer only knew how to survive and she did it the only way she knew how. It was the only thing she could teach me.”

sabetoonth
07-24-2010, 12:22 AM
Why am I lying down on the ground looking at the ceiling? I then turn my head slightly to the right and see Sabretooth standing there in a fighting stance. Now I remember what happened, he hit me. He asked me a question about if all I know is brawling and next thing I knew I ended up here.

I then lean up from off the ground and gather myself for a moment. I slowly get up to my feet.

“Brawling is the only way I know how to fight. My old trainer only knew how to survive and she did it the only way she knew how. It was the only thing she could teach me.”

“Then it is time for a lesson isnt it?” Victor stood there waiting for Calvin to be ready. “Stand like this, on the balls of your feet, you move faster and you are more stable.” The kid had it partially correct, walking over he moved Clavin’s limbs as if they where part of some posable model or maquette. Nodding at the way the kid stood, same way he had moments ago Victor nodded.


“Ok, throw a punch, but more then just your arm, throw your whole body into it.” Victor took a different stance this time, left foot in front, sitting on the back of his calf but raised off of it about 5 inches, hands both raised open palm facing him, left hand first.


“Now hit me.”

Mr. Majestic
07-24-2010, 12:31 AM
I take in what Victor tells me. This is the first time someone is actually taking the time to show me how to fight and not survive.

I do my best to copy the stance Victor first had. With a name like mimic you would think it shouldn’t be a problem.

This stance feels right but I can tell it’s not perfect. I then place all my body weight forward and as I begin to throw my punch I twist my upper body with the motion and make sure my feet are well planted and release my attack at Sabretooth.

sabetoonth
07-24-2010, 12:40 AM
I take in what Victor tells me. This is the first time someone is actually taking the time to show me how to fight and not survive.

I do my best to copy the stance Victor first had. With a name like mimic you would think it shouldn’t be a problem.

This stance feels right but I can tell it’s not perfect. I then place all my body weight forward and as I begin to throw my punch I twist my upper body with the motion and make sure my feet are well planted and release my attack at Sabretooth.

Clavin threw his punch at Sabretooth, who instinctly grabbed his wrist pulled him forward and punched him in the face. The kid’s head snapped back as he was lifted off his feet and landed on his back with a thud.

“OK, second lesson.” Victor began as he hauled Mimic from the floor for the second time."Use the farthest hand from the opponent to guard, closest to strike.” Victor stood back in his stance and Clavin in the one he was instructed to.

“Again.”

Mr. Majestic
07-24-2010, 12:59 AM
I spit some blood out of my month on to the floor.

“I know I can heal in all but is hitting me really necessary?”

He doesn’t say anything, all he does is stand in his stance waiting for me to attack him once again.

“I guess it is.” I say out loud as I get ready to strike once again.

I then began to take deep breaths calming myself down. I then replay the moment in my head. Use the farthest hand from your opponent to guard and my closet to strike, okay I got this.

I then step forward with my left leg. I place my right hand just inches away from my face ready to counter any attack Sabretooth may throw. Then with everything I just learn, I use. I once again throw my left fist at Sabretooth’s face, swinging away with no wasted motion. My body is correct and I twist my waist and lean my body weight forward all at perfect timing.

sabetoonth
07-24-2010, 01:08 AM
I spit some blood out of my month on to the floor.

“I know I can heal in all but is hitting me really necessary?”

He doesn’t say anything, all he does is stand in his stance waiting for me to attack him once again.

“I guess it is.” I say out loud as I get ready to strike once again.

I then began to take deep breaths calming myself down. I then replay the moment in my head. Use the farthest hand from your opponent to guard and my closet to strike, okay I got this.

I then step forward with my left leg. I place my right hand just inches away from my face ready to counter any attack Sabretooth may throw. Then with everything I just learn, I use. I once again throw my left fist at Sabretooth’s face, swinging away with no wasted motion. My body is correct and I twist my waist and lean my body weight forward all at perfect timing.

Calvin’s fist flew through the air and Victor again grabbed it and began his counter attack. His fist deflected from Mimic’s guard and Victor threw a kick into his side.


“Third lesson,” Victor said as Calvin grabbed his side. “Be prepared for a counter to your own counter, because after the first strike that’s all a fight is, a series of counter attacks.” Victor waited for the kid to be ready for more.


“Want to try kicking?” he said with a smirk.

Mr. Majestic
07-24-2010, 01:14 AM
I take a brief second by walking around a bit waiting for the pain in my side to go away. Once it does I walk back toward Sabretooth.

“I’m stick with the punching for now till I get a handle on it.”

I then get back into my stance. This time I’m doing it my way. I redo everything like the last time. As I throw my punch I wait for Victor to counter it like he did the last two times. At the last moment I pull it back and quickly do a spinning kick toward his face.

sabetoonth
07-24-2010, 01:20 AM
I take a brief second by walking around a bit waiting for the pain in my side to go away. Once it does I walk back toward Sabretooth.

“I’m stick with the punching for now till I get a handle on it.”

I then get back into my stance. This time I’m doing it my way. I redo everything like the last time. As I throw my punch I wait for Victor to counter it like he did the last two times. At the last moment I pull it back and quickly do a spinning kick toward his face.

Calvin’s foot smashed into Victor’s face he heard his nose crunch as the bone and cartilage broke. Staggering back a bit he looked at Mimic.

“Now that’s a hit, Kid.” He said with a devious smirk before leaping off the ground and throwing his foot up in an axe kick. It made contact with Mimic’s jaw snapping his head back again. Victor eased down into another stance, low, open hands facing forward but in a manner closer to the way he showed Mimic.

Mr. Majestic
07-24-2010, 01:29 AM
I stumble backward grasping my jaw.

“Damn that hurt.” I yell.

Sabretooth sure is a rough teacher. That kick he deliver hurt like hell but it was well worth it to get that surprise attack on him. It like every time I think I’m going to one up him he shows me a new bag of tricks. Like this stance he is in now.

“How many stances do you know?” I ask while still holding my jaw.

How much can all this really help anyways?

sabetoonth
07-24-2010, 01:42 AM
I stumble backward grasping my jaw.

“Damn that hurt.” I yell.

Sabretooth sure is a rough teacher. That kick he deliver hurt like hell but it was well worth it to get that surprise attack on him. It like every time I think I’m going to one up him he shows me a new bag of tricks. Like this stance he is in now.

“How many stances do you know?” I ask while still holding my jaw.

How much can all this really help anyways?

“Enough to do this all day, and the stance is not always the fighting style.” Victor stood up straight, casual, loose. “A wise man once said, ‘Be like water, softest stuff in the world,” Victor pounded his fist into hand. “Yet it can wear away rock, be like water.” Victor had taken it all to heart when he heard those words.

“Care to forgo the lesson and beat on each other then?”

Mr. Majestic
07-24-2010, 01:53 AM
“I believe what the wise man said was, empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless like water. You put water into a cup it because the cup. You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle. Water can flow or water can crash, be water my friend. Famous words from the master Bruce Lee. Even though I don’t know how to fight I’ve read a lot of books, his being one of them. As for your question I must say I like the lesson very much so. No way I’m going to throw it to the side. You started it and I’m finishing it.”

I tell Sabretooth as I get into my fight stance ready to continue my training.

sabetoonth
07-24-2010, 02:17 AM
“I believe what the wise man said was, empty your mind. Be formless, shapeless like water. You put water into a cup it because the cup. You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle. Water can flow or water can crash, be water my friend. Famous words from the master Bruce Lee. Even though I don’t know how to fight I’ve read a lot of books, his being one of them. As for your question I must say I like the lesson very much so. No way I’m going to throw it to the side. You started it and I’m finishing it.”

I tell Sabretooth as I get into my fight stance ready to continue my training.

Victor smiled to himself; the kid was defiantly one with great potential.

“Bruce Lee, exactly, I was paraphrasing by the way.” Victor stated matter-of-factly returning to his first stance. “Now, as for the lesson, lets.”

“Lets.” Calvin said not entirely sure what he was agreeing to.

Victor charged and Calvin throwing his right fist into his chest, Mimic, surprised by the sudden attack, countered throwing his forearm to the side to deflect Victor’s fist. Mimic’s counter attack was a swift kick to Creed’s gut. Victor took the hit and winced at the pain in his abs, grabbed his new students leg and throwing him to the side.

“Weren’t expectin' that huh, Kid?” Victor said as he walked over to the still down Calvin.

“Sabretooth, Mimic, We have news on the Reaver’s whereabouts.” A voice came over the speakers in the Danger room, which still looked like a martial arts dojo, paper windows and all.

“Guess plays times over Calvin.” Sabretooth said in a slightly disappointed tone, turning towards the doors as the dogo digitized and faded away.

Andy C.
07-24-2010, 04:23 PM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



Being unpopular is something I'm used to. In a lot of ways, it's something I've kind of come to depend on.

When you don't have a whole clique of friends to hang out with, nobody starts wondering where you keep sneaking off to all the time. When you don't have people hanging on your every move, chances are slim that one of your classmates will go "wait a minute, where's Peter?" in the middle of an emergency that requires Spider-centric assistance. When you don't have a girlfriend to come back to in one piece, you don't have to worry about taking a beating in a fight.

Yes, being unpopular is something that Peter Parker knows all too well.

Being hated, on the other hand, is something else entirely.

As I walk from my first period class to Biology, I can practically feel the coldness with which the more popular kids regard me. On the surface, they still ignore me and keep their backs turned to me and say nothing. Every now and then, though, I catch one of them looking over their shoulders at me, like they're checking to make sure I know they're ignoring me.

What did I do, light a church on fire or something? I don't think I've ever seen this many people this mad at me for no readily apparent reason.

As I make my way through the hallways, I unfortunately have to pass by a chattering gaggle that I was really hoping to avoid: Sally Avril and the cheerleaders. Okay, maybe my vaunted powers of social invisibility will let me sneak past undetected and I can--

"Parker! You little creep!"

I swear, the only time I get noticed around here is when I don't want to be noticed.

"Errm....hi," is about all I can say. "So what am I in trouble for now?"

"You know exactly what, freak! You, of all people, managed to break up Flash Thompson and Mary Jane Watson! The biggest power couple in Midtown High, and now it's all over, all because of you!"

Oh, come on. Flash acts like a jackass like he always does, Mary Jane gets tired of babysitting him, and somehow I get blamed for it?

"I didn't even do anything!" I squeak out defensively, my voice raising up to an embarrassingly high register. "Flash and Eddie were about to beat me up again, and Mary Jane just stood up for me!"

"EXACTLY!" Sally exclaims like she'd just won a court case. "Nobody in our league ever stands up for losers like you! Which means you did something to make MJ step out of bounds! Don't you see what's going on?! If Mary Jane Watson of all people starts breaking rank and hanging out with the freaks and geeks, then the whole structure breaks down! We're talking school wide anarchy here!"

"Perish the thought," Mary Jane interjects, once again intervening on my behalf seemingly out of nowhere. Seriously, how does she manage to do that without even tripping off my Spider-Senses? "God knows that if you didn't have your precious social status to fall back on, you might have to develop a personality for people to like you!"

"That's right!" Sally agrees, for about a half second until she realizes that MJ is making fun of her. "Wait--HEY!"

"See, now I see why everyone likes to pick on the smart kids so much: picking on you guys is just too easy," MJ says with a catty grin. "Now come on, Tiger, or we're gonna be late for class."

Mary Jane walks away, leaving Sally sputtering and incredulous, and I just follow dumbly behind her.

Once we get to class, we break up into our study groups again. Debra already has her notes on Aerobic vs. Anaerobic Cellular Respiration organized into a neat little folder. MJ pulls out her notes on the Krebs Cycle, not as stacked and ready to go as Deb's, but not bad work. I've got my own notes on Oxidative Phosphorylation, some barely-edited chicken scratch that I scrawled together over the late afternoon yesterday before going out on patrol. I had planned to clean it up when I got back, but after my big slugfest with Rhino, my encounter with Black Cat, and my cross-town chase from the HAMMER helicopters, I was too worn out to finish.

Oddly enough, the only one who doesn't seem to have his own stuff is Blackie Drago. He doesn't say anything, but just gives me a wide-eyed death stare when I ask him where his work is.

"I lost my scholarship yesterday, Parker," he says in a very deliberate tone, accentuating just how angry he is. "I got a call from a man named Gregory Bestman from ESU, who told me that I was stripped of my money, because someone told them that I had cheated in the Science Fair."

His angry stare burns holes right through me as he leans in.

"Any idea who that someone might be, Peter?"

"They....they took away your scholarship money?" I repeat, playing dumb in the hopes that he doesn't know that Mr. Bestman called me too. And really hoping he doesn't know that the scholarship money went to me. "That sucks, man! I- I'm really sorry for you, but--"

"Don't patronize me, Peter," he says, his deathly calm tone slipping just a little bit. "The only people who knew that I was working with Mr. Toomes on my Science Fair project are sitting right here. It can't be Debra who told them. And why would Mary Jane? She doesn't have anything to gain from it. Which just leaves you, Mr. Sixth Place..."

"Blackie, I know how it must look to you, but I swear to God, I didn't say anything! Honest!"

"I can't believe you would stab me in the back like that, Parker! I know we're not exactly best friends, but to just throw your colleagues under the bus? That's just low. And don't think for one second that I'm going to let you get away with it, or--"

"Blackie, please," Debra interrupts pleadingly. "Let's...let's just get back to work, okay?"

".....fine." he says flatly. We all begin comparing our notes and planning on how to put our presentation together, and I spend the rest of class with my eyes fixed firmly on my notebook, feeling Blackie's death-stare still on me the whole time.

Okay, so let's see....Flash Thompson wants me dead because MJ dumped him on my account.

...Sally Avril wants me dead because she thinks I'm starting some sort of nerd revolution or something.

....Eddie Brock wants me dead because, well, he's Eddie Brock.

....and now Blackie Drago wants me dead because he thinks I ratted him out for cheating.

....not to mention the Big Man, the Shocker, the Rhino, Electro, and all the other bad guys out there who actually want me dead.




......yes sir, I think I liked just being plain old regular unpopular a lot better.

Eddie Brock
07-25-2010, 12:53 AM
THE PUNISHER

SEVERAL MONTHS AGO...

I rub the end of my toothbrush furiously against the floor, pausing only when a guard passes by on rounds. Dave watches me with a distant curiosity, but he understands the situation I've put myself in. He just doesn't understand why I put myself in it.

"The Russian's guys are on strict orders to leave you untouched," he announces quietly.

I stop sharpening my toothbrush for a second. "And this is a bad thing?"

"He's doing it so that he can finish you himself," Dave replies.

I go back to preparing my tool.

"Once we go outside in the yard, there'll be no stopping him. The guards aren't going to step in to save your ass." Dave pauses, clearly annoyed that I'm not trying to convince him I'm not crazy. "I hope you have a plan."

I examine my makeshift weapon in the light. "Working on it."

***

My cell block is led out into the yard for "outdoor exercise." All eyes are on me. Everyone knows what's going to happen. They're just hoping for a good show. Realistically, most of them are hoping to see my brains splattered on the ground. I hope I can disappoint.

Dave nudges me. When I turn around to look at him, he nods to the opposite end of the yard. The Russian is surrounded by his loyal inmates, but he makes them look like dwarfs. Underneath my sleeve, I grip onto my shiv. The Russian spots me, and the yard goes quiet.

"Frank, if you die, I want you to know that you're the best inmate I could ask for," Dave whispers.

An opening clears up in the middle of the yard. I stand at one end, the Russian stands at the other. I glance over to the guards, who watch silently. Like Dave said, they're making no move to stop what's about to go down.

My brain is flooded with information. Memories, training, strategy. It's like I'm accessing some big database that I never knew I had. And as weird as it is, it feels completely natural. Like I'm putting on an old pair of shoes. And somewhere in the back of my mind, the one-eyed man is smiling.

The Russian lumbers towards me. This is the hard part. Because I'm at a disadvantage in size and strength, I need to rely on other factors. Such as the element of surprise. And a good way to get the element of surprise when you're face-to-face with your opponent is pretend to be unprepared to fight.

Which occasionally means taking a punch or two from a seven foot tall opponent.

The first punch dislocates my jaw. The second one breaks my nose. This is off to a great start. Nonetheless, though, the plan works exactly as it should as the Russian leaves himself completely unguarded. Before he has a chance to land a third free punch - which would probably break my neck at this rate - I lay into his solar plexus with everything I'm worth.

It feels like punching a brick wall. And because of the Russian's mass and muscle, the blow doesn't have nearly the same effect that it does on the typical opponent. He's winded, sure, but nine times out of ten that'll knock a grown man out cold.

That's why I have a backup plan. Letting the shiv slide out of my sleeve and into my hand, I strike quickly before the Russian can recover. I stab him once in the thigh, once in the stomach, slash him across the side of his neck, and finally plunge the shiv into his shoulder. The movements flow naturally from each other, like I'm having muscle memory despite not remembering ever learning how to do this.

The Russian pulls the shiv from his shoulder, tossing it away angrily. Good God, what do I have to hit this guy with?

The Russian throws another punch, and I block it with my forearm. It feels like a train when it hits. Okay, no more blocking. Stick and move, stick and move. The Russian takes another shot, and I parry with a quick jab to his arm. He's got the reach advantage, so I've got to rely on my speed and reflexes. Seeing an opening, I land a quick rib shot. I might as well be hitting a slab of meat.

I go for another jab to the solar plexus, but the Russian catches me. Grabbing my arm and holding me at bay, he gets a few quick hits to my face - which I'm sure is a bloody mess by now. To get free, I drive my knee into his groin. It's not pretty - certainly not honorable - but I'm not worried about fighting fair right now.

The Russian recovers quickly. Steroids have probably turned his junk into little more than a hood ornament at this point, I guess. Grabbing a handful of dirt from the ground, I throw it in the Russian's eyes. While he's blinded, I smack both his ears simultaneously. Sightless and disoriented, the Russian is incapable of stopping my next flurry.

I target all the soft spots: nose, eyes, throat, kidneys. Meanwhile, the Russian is flailing wildly. I take elbows to the face, chest, and stomach. My eyes are really watering because of my broken nose. I can feel the blood streaming down my face. The Russian hasn't landed many clean hits, but I've been worn down by the few he has. This has gone on long enough.

I climb onto the Russian's back and wrap my arm around his neck. I'll block his carotid arteries, killing the oxygen flow to his brain. He's going to pass out in fifteen seconds. Of course, with the way he's bucking and thrashing, I don't know that I have fifteen seconds in me. Sure enough, the Russian knocks me loose for a second. I punch him in the temple and put him in the hold once more.

Fifteen stressful seconds later, the Russian goes limp in my grip. He collapses in the middle of the yard, with me laying on top of him. I get up slowly, feeling every bone in my body aching. I roll the Russian over to get a good look at him. His stab wounds are gushing a dark, almost black blood now. He's in bad shape.

So am I.

Feeling light-headed, I stumble away from the Russian's body. The crowd distances itself from me. I think they got the message loud and clear. Frank Castle is not a man to be tested. I collapse at the feet of one of the guards, and he begrudgingly protects me from the Russian's vindictive cronies - at least long enough to get me inside.

sabetoonth
07-25-2010, 02:06 AM
“OK Banner, Haller’s team will be on site shortly, we wait for them as long as the targets dont see us.” Sergeant Skybnol tell Bruce as the chopper makes its way over the wooded wilderness of South Eastern Canada.

“OK Sergeant, understood.” Bruce confirmed over the sound of the chopper. He looked out the small window.

*****

“So, what happens afterwards? To them and me?” He asked as they cleared a gorge.

“Sorry Doc, cant say, that information is above my pay grade.” The Sergeant shouted in response smirking at Bruce. Bruce returned the smile, well at least the soliders charged with keeping watch on him where friendly.

TrueMastermind
07-25-2010, 09:49 AM
“OK Banner, Haller’s team will be on site shortly, we wait for them as long as the targets dont see us.” Sergeant Skybnol tell Bruce as the chopper makes its way over the wooded wilderness of South Eastern Canada.

“OK Sergeant, understood.” Bruce confirmed over the sound of the chopper. He looked out the small window.

*****

“So, what happens afterwards? To them and me?” He asked as they cleared a gorge.

“Sorry Doc, cant say, that information is above my pay grade.” The Sergeant shouted in response smirking at Bruce. Bruce returned the smile, well at least the soliders charged with keeping watch on him where friendly.
(New speech for Wolverine; bolded orange verdana)


"What the hell are you talking about?" From what I remember, Fox always said she was just a normal person on the "mutant side." No powers, just normal.

"I'm like you Wolverine, my body heals more rapidly than normal. But unlike you, I can control the speed of it. That's how I'm sitting in front of you today." So the woman who was once the love of my life faked her death so she couldn't be with me anymore. Sounds like the plot of some tragic love story. One that I'm not enjoying.

"Fantastic." Jumping off the dusty couch, I try to walk off my anger. But as I soon as I stand up, a familiar sound enters my ears. Helicopter blades. Taking a glimpse outside of the window to confirm my hearings, I find the outline of a military helicopter. This day is just going great.

"Everybody get underground!" Banshee and Domino follow my orders, Silver Fox, however, rushes to the door.

"What are you doing?!"

"Daken!" Bulldozing through the door, Fox enters the darkness of the Canadian night and into a ****load of danger.

"Damn it!" Not wishing to have a death on my watch, I follow Kayla, without a clue of what's waiting for me.

sabetoonth
07-25-2010, 11:56 AM
(New speech for Wolverine; bolded orange verdana)


"What the hell are you talking about?" From what I remember, Fox always said she was just a normal person on the "mutant side." No powers, just normal.

"I'm like you Wolverine, my body heals more rapidly than normal. But unlike you, I can control the speed of it. That's how I'm sitting in front of you today." So the woman who was once the love of my life faked her death so she couldn't be with me anymore. Sounds like the plot of some tragic love story. One that I'm not enjoying.

"Fantastic." Jumping off the dusty couch, I try to walk off my anger. But as I soon as I stand up, a familiar sound enters my ears. Helicopter blades. Taking a glimpse outside of the window to confirm my hearings, I find the outline of a military helicopter. This day is just going great.

"Everybody get underground!" Banshee and Domino follow my orders, Silver Fox, however, rushes to the door.

"What are you doing?!"

"Daken!" Bulldozing through the door, Fox enters the darkness of the Canadian night and into a ****load of danger.

"Damn it!" Not wishing to have a death on my watch, I follow Kayla, without a clue of what's waiting for me.

“Crap!” Skybnol shouts as he notices two figures running out of the cabin, one of them is Logan. “Sorry Doc, but this is how it goes.” He apologizes as he reveals a syringe. Bruce tenses up, and starts to walk backwards. “Doc, thislll turn you into that thing so you can take on Howlett, then from there your on your own as far as I’m concerned.”

“What are you gonna do when after you stick me?” Bruce warily approached the open back end of the chopper. “Shove me out the back without going green?” The soldeier nodded.

“This is why you’re here, and not back at the helicarrier strapped down.” The solider leaped forward suddenly catching Banner in the arm with the needle. “Give it a few seconds, its just adrenaline we figure this turns on your freak out.” Sergeant Skybnol saw the green in Banner’s eyes as he suddenly started to malform and change. With sudden burst forward he lifted his left leg into the air, planted his foot on Banner’s gut and kicked him out the back of the chopper.

Bruce fell through the air, he saw the ground come up fast, but he never remembers hitting it, with a cloud of risen dust it hit the ground.

Watchman
07-26-2010, 09:55 AM
BLAM!

Captain America was thrown back as the bullet ripped through his chest. Falling to the floor like a sack of potatoes, the American hero rasped through gritted teeth.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The Skull shot three more times into Rogers' body, emptying the chamber into the super-soldier. The bullets penetrated through Cap's back, stopping short of his spinal cord.

The Skull stood smugly over Rogers, smiling down at him with his ruined face.

"You don't get off that easy!"

With a surge of adrenaline and rage, Cap slapped the Skull's legs out from under him and pinned the Nazi to the floor. Struggling with the Skull, Captain American put his hands around the Skull's throat and began to put as much pressure as he could on his neck.

He had his orders. The Skull was not to make it out of Hanover alive.

The Skull struggled. His legs kicked wildly as he tried to push him off. His hands desperately pushed against Captain America's face but he was too strong. With one hand he was able to touch the stone. The stone that was able to change the world for him. With the other he wrestled with Captain America's hands.

"With my last breath....I curse you Captain America....whoever takes up cause, your line, your sons will forever be haunted by me. You will never escape me...." Captain America hands tightened.

"Never!" Red Skull gasped.

SNAP

The room was silent. Outside gunfire and explosions were heard, tearing the castle apart. The Red Skull was dead.

Eddie Brock
07-26-2010, 11:51 PM
http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g105/anthonylchavez/movie-logo.jpg

"Good afternoon, and thank you for joining me."

I nod politely to the assembled crowd. Spotting Pepper and Happy standing towards the back, I give them a slight nod, too. Rhodey, unfortunately, couldn't make it today. Turning my attention to the microphones and cameras aimed diligently at me, I clear my throat.

"As you are all aware, Obadiah Stane - Chairman of the Board of Directors and acting CEO - was implicated in the illegal sale of Stark Industries property," I begin solemnly. "Until the investigation is complete, Stark Industries has no further comment on this matter. However, in the wake of his removal, the powers of Chairman and CEO fall to...well..me."

Pepper gives an encouraging half-smile.

Checking my notecards again, I continue, "The manner in which this power was bestowed to me is...unfortunate, to say the least. I always imagined that my father himself would formally announce this. I only wish he were here to witness this day."

I allow the somber moment to pass.

"As my first order of business, I am going to address the Crimson Dynamo situation," I explain. The crowd perks up. "To review the details of the event, the annual Stark Expo was attacked this year by a rogue Russian scientist by the name of Ivan Vanko. Vanko had armed himself with hybrid Iron Man technology of his own design. His attack was a direct response to the unveiling of the newest line of Iron Men, the Patriots."

"Before I make my next announcement, I would like to make two points clear. One, Vanko's ease in obtaining the plans and components of a Harbinger Iron Man unit should be very unsettling. We have long been told that this technology is safe and impossible to recreate, but we were all proven wrong. Two, while the Iron Men have been an important part of modern American military history, their presence creates uneasiness around the globe. Our exclusive control of such devastating technology threatens our enemies and provokes them to act as Vanko did."

"For this reason, I am cancelling production of the Iron Men indefinitely," I announce. The crowd erupts instantly in shock. Questions are hurled at me from the audience and the media, and it takes me half a minute to quiet them down. "Make no mistake, the Crimson Dynamo is only the first of many such threats to come if we continue to back the rest of the world into a corner. I will not sit back and watch this technology fall into the hands of terrorists and murderers."

The crowd continues to buzz. No better time to drop the second bomb.

"Additionally, I am here today to admit that I have not been entirely honest with you," I say. This seems to grab their attention right back. "For months, we have told you that the independent entity known as 'Iron Man' is in no way affiliated with Stark Industries. This is only a half truth."

I glance down at the notes. I don't know why. I've memorized this by now.

"I have been funding the Iron Man project independently," I announce. The crowd gets even louder than when I announced the end of the Iron Men. I decide to continue regardless. "The purpose of the initiative is to address the proliferation problem. Too many innocent people are dying at the hands of Stark weaponry. Iron Man acted as a stop-gap measure until the source of the problem could be identified. Because I did not know who I could trust, I could not risk revealing Iron Man's true nature to the public or the Board of Directors."

"Before I continue, I should tell you that I am not taking any further questions at this time. The men and women associated with the Iron Man project - including the pilot of the suit - wish to remain anonymous, and I respect their decision. However, until the proliferation numbers reach an acceptable level, Iron Man will continue to operate under Stark Industries' watchful eye."

I nod, wave, and say, "Thank you, and have a good day." And I quickly walk off the stage while the crowd shouts questions that I'm not going to answer right now.

Byrd Man
07-27-2010, 10:43 AM
The Skull struggled. His legs kicked wildly as he tried to push him off. His hands desperately pushed against Captain America's face but he was too strong. With one hand he was able to touch the stone. The stone that was able to change the world for him. With the other he wrestled with Captain America's hands.

"With my last breath....I curse you Captain America....whoever takes up cause, your line, your sons will forever be haunted by me. You will never escape me...." Captain America hands tightened.

"Never!" Red Skull gasped.

SNAP

The room was silent. Outside gunfire and explosions were heard, tearing the castle apart. The Red Skull was dead.

Pulling himself up off Red Skull's dead body, Captain America fought through the pain of the bullets lodged in his body and managed to stand up. The Germans were attacking from somewhere in the castle. Reaching down and picking up his rifle, Rogers limped out the room and began searching for the Howling Commandos and Fury. His job was done, now all that remained was extraction.

TrueMastermind
07-27-2010, 02:01 PM
“Crap!” Skybnol shouts as he notices two figures running out of the cabin, one of them is Logan. “Sorry Doc, but this is how it goes.” He apologizes as he reveals a syringe. Bruce tenses up, and starts to walk backwards. “Doc, thislll turn you into that thing so you can take on Howlett, then from there your on your own as far as I’m concerned.”

“What are you gonna do when after you stick me?” Bruce warily approached the open back end of the chopper. “Shove me out the back without going green?” The soldeier nodded.

“This is why you’re here, and not back at the helicarrier strapped down.” The solider leaped forward suddenly catching Banner in the arm with the needle. “Give it a few seconds, its just adrenaline we figure this turns on your freak out.” Sergeant Skybnol saw the green in Banner’s eyes as he suddenly started to malform and change. With sudden burst forward he lifted his left leg into the air, planted his foot on Banner’s gut and kicked him out the back of the chopper.

Bruce fell through the air, he saw the ground come up fast, but he never remembers hitting it, with a cloud of risen dust it hit the ground.

The falling of the scrawny man startled the both of us. But what rose from the ground nearly pulled our hearts right from our chests. Never in my life had I seen such a thing so massive and intimidating in my life, and I may never see such a beast ever again. The bright glow of it's green, hardened skin shined on my face, revealing a fear that rarely shows.

For a minute, the monster stumbled as the result of the far dive. Every step it took shook the ground with so much force that the trees swayed like we were in the middle of a hurricane. And looking at this guy, I would be more comfortable driving through Katrina.

The only thought that ran through my mind is the fact that we're going to die. But if there's one thing I know, it's that I'm not going down without a fight. Live or die, intact or in pieces, mashed or bashed, I'm not going down without a fight.

http://www.deviantart.com/download/129006443/Hulk_vs_Wolverine_new_sketch_by_TuaX.jpg

sabetoonth
07-27-2010, 02:10 PM
Victor smiled to himself; the kid was defiantly one with great potential.

“Bruce Lee, exactly, I was paraphrasing by the way.” Victor stated matter-of-factly returning to his first stance. “Now, as for the lesson, lets.”

“Lets.” Calvin said not entirely sure what he was agreeing to.

Victor charged and Calvin throwing his right fist into his chest, Mimic, surprised by the sudden attack, countered throwing his forearm to the side to deflect Victor’s fist. Mimic’s counter attack was a swift kick to Creed’s gut. Victor took the hit and winced at the pain in his abs, grabbed his new students leg and throwing him to the side.

“Weren’t expectin' that huh, Kid?” Victor said as he walked over to the still down Calvin.

“Sabretooth, Mimic, We have news on the Reaver’s whereabouts.” A voice came over the speakers in the Danger room, which still looked like a martial arts dojo, paper windows and all.

“Guess plays times over Calvin.” Sabretooth said in a slightly disappointed tone, turning towards the doors as the dogo digitized and faded away.
[Chaing Vic's speech to bolded dark orange/brown]
Victor looked out over his former home, what he liked to call home anyway. Canada.

“Hank, how much further before we’re there?” Victor yelled over to his comrade.

“Shouldn’t be much further my large ragged friend.” Beast responded over the chopper’s engine.
Victor looked back over the canadian wilderness. “God its beautiful.” He said to himself as the trees flew under.

“RAAARGH!” the chopper shook and everyone grabbed onto something as Beast made a swift lean to the right to avoid a flying tree.

sabetoonth
07-27-2010, 02:37 PM
The falling of the scrawny man startled the both of us. But what rose from the ground nearly pulled our hearts right from our chests. Never in my life had I seen such a thing so massive and intimidating in my life, and I may never see such a beast ever again. The bright glow of it's green, hardened skin shined on my face, revealing a fear that rarely shows.

For a minute, the monster stumbled as the result of the far dive. Every step it took shook the ground with so much force that the trees swayed like we were in the middle of a hurricane. And looking at this guy, I would be more comfortable driving through Katrina.

The only thought that ran through my mind is the fact that we're going to die. But if there's one thing I know, it's that I'm not going down without a fight. Live or die, intact or in pieces, mashed or bashed, I'm not going down without a fight.

http://www.deviantart.com/download/129006443/Hulk_vs_Wolverine_new_sketch_by_TuaX.jpg



The creature stood thre stagering to regain its wits seeing the two people infront of him he only remembered one thing about one of them.

“SMASH!” He dug his heels into the ground, launching himself forward in an incredible sprint. Closing the distance between itself and the target the hulk thing swung its mighty fists, ducking under one the target jumped up and extended metal claws from his knuckles slashing the beast in the face.

“RAARGH!” it roared in increased rage as it’s blood landed on the ground, the wound healing without a scar. “SMASH YOU!” it roared.

TrueMastermind
07-27-2010, 04:11 PM
The creature stood thre stagering to regain its wits seeing the two people infront of him he only remembered one thing about one of them.

“SMASH!” He dug his heels into the ground, lunching himself forward in an incredible sprint. Closing the distance between itself and the target the hulk thing swung its mighty fists, ducking under one the target jumped up and extended metal claws from his knuckles slashing the beast in the face.

“RAARGH!” it roared in increased rather as it’s blood landed on the ground, the wound healing without a scar. “SMASH YOU!” it roared.

Apparently, this thing was dumb. Hopefully this would help at least a little, along with its lack of quickness.

"Fox, go find Daken!" I yell out before I dodge a mega-sized fist coming down at less than impressive speed. But maybe the beast was just still reeling from its fall, because I soon got slammed by a rocketing slap, blasting me into the wall of the cabin.

"God damn..." For a minute, my head throbs like crazy before the pain disappears as quickly as it came. Wait a second, that smell...

Victor is back. Just hours ago, I had hurled my claws right into his scheming skull. And now he was back to witness my inevident beatdown. Weapon X were along for the ride as well. Everybody wanted a piece of me. Well, I'll just bring it to them.

"DIE PUNY MAN!"

As impossible as it seems, I fail to realize that this big green "Hulk" was stomping towards me once again. All of a sudden, a bright object hits the ugly monster straight in the face, stunning him for just a bit.

"Miss me?" I look over to see Domino standing in the doorway of the cabin, clutching a rocket launcher.

"How convenient."

sabetoonth
07-27-2010, 07:16 PM
Apparently, this thing was dumb. Hopefully this would help at least a little, along with its lack of quickness.

"Fox, go find Daken!" I yell out before I dodge a mega-sized fist coming down at less than impressive speed. But maybe the beast was just still reeling from its fall, because I soon got slammed by a rocketing slap, blasting me into the wall of the cabin.

"God damn..." For a minute, my head throbs like crazy before the pain disappears as quickly as it came. Wait a second, that smell...

Victor is back. Just hours ago, I had hurled my claws right into his scheming skull. And now he was back to witness my inevident beatdown. Weapon X were along for the ride as well. Everybody wanted a piece of me. Well, I'll just bring it to them.

"DIE PUNY MAN!"

As impossible as it seems, I fail to realize that this big green "Hulk" was stomping towards me once again. All of a sudden, a bright object hits the ugly monster straight in the face, stunning him for just a bit.

"Miss me?" I look over to see Domino standing in the doorway of the cabin, clutching a rocket launcher.

"How convenient."

“RRRR” the beast gritted as it quickely recovered from the rocket. “Puny Lady throw rockets, ME SMASH PUNY LADY!” Banner’s transformed body reached down into the earth clenching its figners and fists around a large rock pulling it from its resting place. “SMASH YOU!” it bellowed as it heaved the stone over its head and chucked it towards the cabin. the woman ran out of the doorway and threw the rocket to the ground drawing two pistols.

“I’d rather stay unsmash thank you.” She retorted opening fire on the green goliath.

“RAAARG!” it hurled itself forwards with amazing speed swinging its huge arms, aiming to smash any and everything that didn’t lay down. The target ducked dived and dodged the green clubs as they flew through the air. His female companion flipping back and continuing to fire on the creature.

“Hey, Bub,” Logan started as he narrowly missed being sent into a tree by one of the jade fists. “You picked the wrong guy to mess with!” He dove in under the creature’s very nose and forced his claws through the green flesh.

“AAARGH!” The cry was one of pain as the creature kneed him causing him to take flight through a series of trees.

Andy C.
07-28-2010, 03:45 AM
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b73/nowhereman716/Comics/PeterParkerSpider-ManLogo.gif



The rest of Biology class goes by with a certain, notable discomfort-- between Mary Jane being unable to even glance at me without giving me a knowing grin (though what it is that she knows that I don't is beyond me), and Blackie Drago staring daggers into me, not to mention poor Deb trying to make Blackie feel better and failing pretty miserably. Fortunately, the bell finally rings and lets me get onto my next class.

Sadly for me, though, the next class is gym. Which means fun times with Eddie and Flash and a rack full of dodgeballs.

"Okay, first one to take Puny Parker's head off wins," he says to Eddie, and the game is underway. Granted, it's actually ten on ten between the class, but the real game is just them against me.

This isn't going to be easy.

Not because I can't dodge their throws--I can dodge bullets, for cryin' out loud--but because it's going to be difficult to keep dodging them without immediately giving myself away.

Coach blows the whistle, and the game is on. Flash and Eddie immediately run up to the front line to grab their balls--heh, 'grab their balls'--while I hang in the back row, trying to take cover behind my teammates.

Flash throws first, and it looks like he wasn't kidding about wanting to take my head off, as he hurls the red rubber ball right at my face. I'm able to 'stumble' out of the way, but it slams into the wall with a loud SMACK. Guess he's bent out of shape over MJ dumping him, and he wants to take it out on me.

Eddie hurls another one my way, and this time I duck behind poor Dave Lizewski, who lets out a pained grunt when the ball smashes into his gut. Considering Lizewksi's screwed-up nerve endings mean he doesn't feel pain as badly as most other kids, that must have been one heck of a throw.

My team returns the volley in kind, taking Kong out in short order, and a 'lucky shot' from yours truly that hits Rand Roberts in the leg. That's two of the jock crew down, but the two that are actually out to get me are still in play.

Slowly but surely the two teams whittle each other down, Flash and Eddie only gunning for me. They launch one murder-ball after another my way, and each time I'm able to trip or stumble, or awkwardly spaz-duck so that the shots keep missing, but just barely. Inside, I'm smiling ear to ear. This must be driving them nuts.

Finally, when Hobie Brown takes a hit to the shoulder that puts him out of the game, I realize that there's nobody left on my team....and Flash, Eddie, and Harry are still left on the other side. Harry hangs back, looking almost guilty that he's on the same team as the two jerkwads who stare across the gym floor at me with murderous intent. I put on a wide-eyed 'deer in the headlights' look, even giving a little gulp for good measure.

Flash throws first, aiming with a cannonball straight at my chest. I could duck under it, or sidestep it, or even jump right over it if I wanted to.....well, Spider-Man could, at least. Peter Parker, on the other hand, has only one option.....

"Whuff!"

I grunt as the rubber ball bounces right off my sternum, and Flash lets out a triumphant "Whoooo--"

Before he can even finish "whoo"-ing himself, I stick both hands out and pluck the ball out of the air, pulling it back to me and taking a few uneasy steps back. For those who don't have super-fast reflexes, it looks for all the world like I just happened to catch the ball while wincing from the shattering blow.

"Thompson, OUT!" coach yells, and Flash goes white as a sheet.

"But he--...it was a lucky catch!"

"OUT!" coach repeats himself, before Flash finally stomps off to the bleachers, muttering under his breath and giving me a hateful stare. Looks like I'm not off of Thompson's hit-list yet.

And speaking of people who are none too fond of me, Eddie Brock rushes the front line as soon as the game starts up again, taking a dodgeball in each hand and chucking them towards me one at a time.

The first one misses on its own--a master of accuracy, Eddie is not and never will be. The second one is a little closer to home, nearly clipping me in the shoulder had I not leapt out of the way with an exaggerated "Wh-wh-whoah!" I'm really starting to get good at hamming these things up; if only I weren't the only one who could appreciate it.

I dart back and forth, waiting for Eddie to throw the third ball he's picked up, but he waits patiently, tossing the ball up and down and glaring at me, then gesturing to one of the balls over on my side of the court, like he wants me to pick it up.

So it's a showdown you want, Eddie? I'll give you the freaking O.K. Corral, then.

I bend nervously to pick up one of the balls, and that's when Eddie lets fly, trying to hit me with my guard down. What a cheap shot, man!....well, it would be if it actually hit.

The split-second I see that ball leave his hand, I trip forward just a step or two, then fling my own ball low to the ground back at him as I start to fall. It's a fast one, just low enough that he won't be able to catch it, and sure enough, it makes contact just below the knee as I crumble to the floor.

"Brock, OUT!"

Just like that, I've bested two of Midtown High's most prized football players, all while making it look like a complete accident. Man, I rule.

It's all Eddie can do to keep himself from cursing and spitting as he has to take a seat on the bench, and now it's down to me and Harry.

I pick myself up, and Harry shrugs before sending one my way, a lobbing easy one that I could step away from and read a newspaper before heading back to dodge it. Still, if I'm going to keep up appearances, I can't have everyone see me go out on a high note. I dart one way and another in little-half steps, before crossing right back into its line of fire and letting Harry get me with a shot that hits me in the side.

"Parker, OUT!" Coach announces. "Osborn wins!"

I try my best not to wink at Harry as he gets the credit for winning the game and finally punking out the stubborn little nerd. With that, it's time to head to the locker room to change for fourth period. I can practically feel the waves of hate emanating from Flash and Eddie, and I pick up my pace to get out of their line of sight.

I duck into the showers for a minute or two--granted, a game of Dodgeball isn't exactly enough for me to work up a sweat, but I'm not going to have people saying that Peter Parker doesn't shower--then change back into my regular clothes. Gotta make this quick; the locker room is ripe grounds for nerd abuse since the coach isn't looking, and I've got a pair of jocks who are really looking to hurt me now.

Sure enough, as soon as I'm done pulling up my pants, my Spider-Senses alert me to two human-sized objects rushing towards me from the next row of lockers over: Flash and Eddie looking to jump me before I can run away. When they turn the corner to my row, however, I'm nowhere to be found.

Well, actually, I'm clinging to the ceiling, having lept straight up as the only way I can hide.

"Damn," Flash swears. "Puny Parker must've already ran off."

"Too bad," Eddie says, kicking the bench. "I've been itching for a chance to teach that little dork a lesson. Teach him to stay away from both of our girls."

That actually raises my eyebrow a little. Okay, I get that Flash wants to cave my skull in to vent his frustrations about Mary Jane, but is that what's really got Eddie's panties in a twist? The fact that I'm hanging out with Gwen? Like I've done, like, every day since third grade? I mean, yeah, I guess he's territorial and doesn't want me to make a move on his girl, but it's not like there's anything actually going on between me and her....

....well, not that I've never thought about it....but seriously, me and Gwen? Really?

"Ugh, don't even get me started," Flash spits. "Just....I do not get Mary Jane at all. Seriously, never did. Or your girl, for that matter."

"Yeah......yeah," Eddie says, not even trying to stick up for Gwen.

"You mind me asking a serious question? Why are you even with her anyway? I mean, you're running with my pack here; you could have any girl in this school! Any girl you want! And you pick Gwen Stacy, of all people?!"

"Dude, it's....complicated. I mean, I guess it's partly that I used to have a crush on her back in junior high, and partly because I like having that one-up on Parker, keeping those two from ever actually getting together."

Wait....what? That's your whole reason for dating her? I mean, I love Gwen to death, always will, but she's my friend. I'd never want to screw that up by making a move on her--let's face it, there's no way she would ever go for me, right?

Still, the thought of him doing that just to keep her away from me just burns me, like a lump of hot coal in my chest.

"And, well....there's the other thing. The, umm, the 'Pringles' thing."

"The 'Pringles' thing? What's that?"

"You know, how you always hear about the quiet, reserved 'good girl' and once they've had their first time, they can't get enough of it and start doing all the freaky stuff. Like, 'once you pop, you can't stop.' Like Pringles."

"....dude."

Flash busts out laughing like it's the dumbest joke he's ever heard, but I'm fighting back the urge to just leap down and strangle Eddie right here and now. Seriously, what kind of scumbag thinks of that stuff? You just know he got that from a porno site.....not like I have room to talk, but still. I'm at least not going after girls just to see if they'll do 'all the freaky stuff.' I knew Eddie was a creep and all, but this?

The bell rings, and Flash and Eddie finally leave, allowing me to hop down from the ceiling and sneak past them before booking it to my next class.

The rest of the day, all I can think about is what Eddie said about Gwen, what he's planning to do to her. I've got to think of some way to stop that, to get her to see just how sleazy Eddie really is.

I mean, I've gotta look out for my friend, right?

Once classes let out, we all start to gather in the parking lot by Harry's car. Harry shows up with Liz, and slaps me on the back.

"There he is, Crouching Nerd, Hidden Badass himself, the terror of the dodgeball court!" Harry jokes. "Seriously, Liz, you should've seen the looks on everyone's faces when Pete took Flash out."

"Well, I mean, he threw it right at me, and the ball just kinda wound up in my hands," I say, giving my best 'aww shucks' as Harry talks me up.

"Huh, that explains why Flash was so mad in English class," Liz shrugs, then gives a slight gasp as if she remembered something really important. "Oh! Is it true that you broke him and Mary Jane up? Sally would not shut up about that all morning!"

"Umm, not intentionally. Really, I just happened to be there when she dumped him. I think she was looking for an excuse."

"That's not what everyone's saying," Liz says, like the rumor supercedes the truth. "In fact, the word around the cafeteria at lunch was that you're taking MJ out to a movie tonight."

"Wow, nice job, Pete," Harry says as he jokingly punches me on the shoulder. "You make Eddie and Flash look bad and land a date with one of the hottest girls in school, all in one day, without even trying!"

Liz gives Harry a dirty look, and Harry winces. "I said one of the hottest, not the hottest, babe!"

"Hoo boy. Well, okay, let me just kill that rumor right now. There is just no way that someone like Mary Jane Watson would go out with--...hold on, I got a text message."

I pull my phone from my pocket and check the message log. One new message, and it's actually from MJ.

"Movie starts at 8:30. Meet me at Romita's at 6 for pizza before so we can study together first ;)."

I just stare wide-eyed for a few seconds.

"Well?" Liz finally gets my attention. "What's it say?"

"....apparently I really do have a date tonight."

Harry unintentionally gapes as I show them the text.

"Dude. Way to go, man!"

"What do I do? Do I say anything back? Oh man, I'm freaking out here!"

"Just say 'see you there' and leave it at that. Do not freak," Harry says, going into date-mentor mode.

"Okay, okay, here goes."

I open up a reply on my phone, and am barely able to keep my thumbs from shaking as I type.

"Cool. See you there!"

Not ten seconds later, I get another text from MJ.

"So is Harry over there keeping you from hyperventilating or something?"

"Heh, kind of. How did you know?"

"Look to your left, Pete."

I look up, and halfway down the parking lot I see Mary Jane sitting on the back bumper of her car, fiddling with her phone while Sally and some of the other popular girls prattle on around her. She waves quickly, then gets pulled back into whatever the girls are gossiping about.

"So should I bring my notes for class? I mean, you can be honest if you just need a study mate--you don't have to pretend to ask me out."

There's a good solid minute before she replies.

"Who said anything about pretending? The studying is just an excuse."

Harry motions that it's time for us to go, so I send Mary Jane one more text.

"Sorry, don't mean to sound paranoid. Anyway, I'll see you at 6."

As I climb into the back seat of Harry's car, I get one more text in response.

"Face it, Tiger--you just hit the jackpot."

bkhedr
07-29-2010, 06:15 AM
http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg




"You have been expecting me." The still corporeal Vision stated with a tone that just barely hinted at his surprise as he drifted closer to the center of the room and to the Red Ghost himself who, for his part, stood boldly with arms clasped behind his back.

"Of course I have synthezoid, of course I have." he said egotistically "One cannot seek me out without my becoming aware of his efforts."

"Then you know why I am here."

"You are in search of the Ultron intelligence." The Red Ghost answered with a slight tilt of his head "You believe it holds the secrets to your true identity. Your...true nature."

"Yes." The Vision said as he solidified and landed softly on the metallic floor of the Red Ghost's recluse. "Can you help me?"

"Of course I can." The Red Ghost says with a widening grin "Why else would I have allowed you to find me?"


http://img693.imageshack.us/img693/2752/visionbannere.jpg


Hours Later

Deep within the heart of the tower which serves as the Red Ghost's secret New York head quarters. Here is where one of the most surreal scenes imaginable continues to as the mysterious Red Ghost sits in a large, high backed, antique chair, his legs folded, his fingers interlocked in front of his face, his expression is of one fascinated by what he hears as he listens intently to the red faced android who sits across from him in a chair as impressive and unique as his own.

"And that is how I ended up finding you." The Vision concluded "It is my hope that you will help me unravel the mysteries of my past. I sorely wish to know who I am and what my purpose is in this world, but I recognize that my needs are of no consequence when weighed against the damage that the Ultron intelligence could do if reactivated. I hope you will help me find it before Karpov or the Widowmaker do."

For a moment there is silence, then the Red Ghost leans back in his chair, while keeping his eyes on the Vision.

"Your tale is a fascinating one Vision and I will help you." He said as relief played across the Vision's artificial features.

"But I can make no promises" He added, raising a finger for emphasis "And I would have you understand that I am not in the business of doing favors for nothing."

He lowered his hand and leaned forward once more.

"I will help you Vision, but you will owe me for my help." He extended an open hand "Do you accept my help on those terms?"

The Vision considered the matter briefly. He knew little of the Red Ghost, and what he did know did not paint him in a sympathetic light, but he knew that the Red Ghost and Karpov were old enemies, and had been so since before the fall of the Soviet Union. He knew that the Red Ghost had been one of the premier Soviet experts in Robotics and Extraterrestrial studies before going underground for decades, and most important at all, he recognized that he had exhausted his options and had little choice.

He thought of Captain America and briefly considered seeking the Captain's advice, but he had already imposed on him too much, and it was the Captain's information that had led him to the Red Ghost in the first place.

With all this in mind, the Vision extended his arm and took the Red Ghost's hand, shaking it amicably.

"We have a deal." He said as the Red Ghost grinned delightedly.

"Excellent." Said the Red Ghost as he rose and put a hand on the Vision's shoulder "Now you will have to trust me, because I believe that the secret to locating Ultron lies within you my artificial friend."

"What?" The Vision replied, stunned.

"Oh yes." The Red Ghost replied grinning "based on what you have told me I believe that Dr. Lipton implanted the knowledge of Ultron in your cerebral net before you were deactivated and I intend to access that information this very evening."

http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/5/51363/1272656-marvel_adventures_super_heroes__3_008.jpg