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Old 05-13-2011, 02:17 AM   #51
LiMoNiTe
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0

ARMADILLO
Round One



One Year... Three Months... Fourteen Days... I have no food, I'm flat broke, god damn truck got's a flat, and those smug f***'s at the UFL won't retune one single call in the last year and three months. Heh, they better jump on it before the city shuts down the electricity again. They shut my damn water off three nights ago, I'm starting to smell myself and the truth is I'm startin' to smell like s***. But hell, it matches the man in the mirror. The worst part though is I know that B****, she is off with that Sancho, probable laughin' at the fact she was smart 'nuff to leave a freak like me. Looking at my life so far you assume me as a dumb s*** good for nuttin', and you could call me a lier if I said you were wrong.

* the self loathing continues for a few minutes in the cold dusty, mildewy apartment until stopped abruptly by the phone ringing*

"I said I'll give you the God damn money when I get it!"
"Wow buddy, It your good friend Rey"
Rey is not my friend or my F****** buddy, peolpe you consider a "friend" or "buddy" don't let you starve. However Rey Trueno is the man with the money and just so happens to be my so call boss and owner of the UFL.
"What you calling for Rey? You got a job for me or what?"
"Yeah I have a job that is if you aren't doing anything"
"Well, I just so happens I'm manager of a used car dealership, Course I'm Not doin' S***. Who want to look at a orange rock monster all day."
That Thing has the life I tell ya.
"Good I have you up for saturdays fights, You and Tombstone. It's under card but it pays, you in?"
"I'll be there."

Place smells the same, blood, money and skanks. Just like O'Rey, Place hasn't seen a face lift in year, but I'm one to talk heh?
"Glad to see you made it. Your in locker room three down the..."
"I know where it's at Rey"
"Well you better hurry you are on in ten."
I make it to the locker room, it's s***, they are all s***. Poor lightin' that don't scare the roaches away, blood on the floor from God knows how many fighters and the smell of lost hope. I hear the one of two decent places in this dump from my locker, locker room one, the room for the champ. If I'm not mistakin' it's that t*** Guy "Flag Smasher" Thierrault. Rey must have landed on hard times if that guy is champ, I can't see him beatin' anyone, his own penis probably give him S*** when he's lonely. I'm on it ten hurry he said, I walk around bare ass naked all day, how much time does it take to be ready.

*The pre-game party down the hall is defend by the roar of the crowd and the announcer hyping tombstone as he walks down into the cage. Armadillo takes his time but also walks his way through the crowd and down to the cage.*

"And now entering the ring weighting in at five hundred and forty pounds, The two time UCWF CHAMPION and the ONE TIME UFL CHAMPION, THE SINISTER SHELL, THE ROLLING KNOCK OUT, AAAARMAAAAAADILLLLLLLLOOOOOOO!"

"Well, Pat, what can we expect of these two fighters?"
"Mac, both of these men are experienced fighters, who rely on pure brut strength, though both have very different defined styles of fighting. THough I would assume a Straight forward brawl."
"So Pat, who would you put you'r money on?"
"Truthfully, I wouldn't count one man out over the other. But if I had to I would say Tombstone because of age."
"Thank you Pat. And now both men are in the ring and we are about to see two very heavy hitters go tow-to-two."

*The ring of the bell settles the crowd, as the two men in the ring look ever so fiercely at one another"

Me I know better to think this will be a f****** cakewalk. Tombstones been around the block more then 'nuff times to have the know how to break a man's balls. What seems like mere second must be longer then I though. Walkin' around each other, findin' a weak spot a lookin' for a falter in the man's step is now being thrown off by the booin' crowd. Tombstone must have noticed and throws a hard right, just quick 'nuff to catch just to the outside of my left eye. I have to give it to him, guys got a damn hand that of a eighteen wheeler doing 75. Good attempt but not 'nuff to knock me off my feet. The first blow is good to land when it puts the guy your fighting off his rhythm, but not me, not one f****** falter. He then comes at me with a telegraphed left hook. I back step leavin' me in the perfect place to use my reach and pop him in that S*** eatin' grin of his. He stumbles and I react. Right Straight. Left Jab. Right Straight. Left Jab. Right Straight. Left Jab?, no to predicable he'll see it coming. Right Hook catches him on his f****** temple. He covers up. I don't hear the crowd I'm to focused, but i know damn well they are cheering telling by the blood comin' out of tombstone's nose and the cut over his left eye. Nice combo I tell myself while reminding myself that now's not the time for nut fiddlin'. He quick to respond with a leg kick able to crush bones, not mine though. These legs are muscle form supporting this hellish body and armored for God damn day's. And fast as that kick came so does he's jab. Splits my lip. Dumb ass goes for my body, and it hurt. I could vomit if I didn't relies how much more it hurt his hand. I then shoot in on him. With my size and wight it a hard thing to avoid bein' taken down. As soon as we are down I'm mounted up, and the hooks start flyin'. The first three throws his arms where up and made the hits grasses, how ever the platin' on my hands still slice in to that nice grey tan he's been working on. However those arms slowly lose the will to block and it is just my fist meeting ground meet. Here in the UFL, the Refs if you wanna to call them that, don't really stop you after a knockout, but just before the man is dead. They tell you this so the cop's don't intervene and turn the palce into a murder scene. And I believe it's that point I just brought Tombstone to, seein' as his face looks like tomato soup left on the counter for a few day, I'd know I've seen both.

*The Ref helps Armadillo up and walks him to the center of the cage to be announced the winner. The crowd amped from the fight screams for excitement, piercing the ears.*

"Ladies and Gentle Men, Your winner in the first round by way of Knockout, AAAARMAAAAAADILLLLLLLLOOOOOOO!"
"Wow Pat, that was an amazing display."
"Yeah Mac, Never in a million years would I have guessed a first round KO by Armadillo, especially after the long break from the ring."
"Well you can never expect anything in that cage, other then great entertainment, of course brought to you by the Ultimate Fighting League."

The crowd dies down after I enter the hall to the locker rooms. Manly cause it time for everyone to refill there damn beer's. I could uses one. "Toro" Serrano passes me in the hall tellin' me what a fight that was. Me knowing he is going to fight FlagSmasher make the little devil on my shoulder pop up. It's tellin' me to grab a pipe and brake that F*** face, down on his luck hero's damn legs in hopes that Rey would storm in my room and ask if I want the spot for the fight with the FlagSmasher thats going to take place tonight. But I have seen to much time behind bars to watch any more if it that way. However I hope Toro better beat that D***head ****masher to a bloody pulp. As i get in my room I can hear people draggin' what's left of Tombstone into his room. To the winner goes the spoils, to loser you got to hope another fighter in the crowd with his night off takes sympathy on you pulls you to you locker, and if you're lucky the Night Nurse might stop by feeling sorry for your dumb ass to help fix your worth s*** dismantled, lost sole.

The cab ride home was twenty three God damn buck, I tip two. One win doesn't make you rich. I head to the bathroom where I have kept a bucket of water, you know the whole city bulls*** turning it off. I wipe the blood from may face and look in the mirror. Same piece of ugly S*** as last time I looked. F***ed up thing is it reminds me of Tombstones face after the fight. I was never one for remorse of a mans life when I had money an a better reason for the things I did. Leaving in hell makes most people stronger not me the guilt brings me down. I prey for the first time in ages.

"Hey God, sorry we haven't talked in awhile, but i wanted to say...."




To Be Continued.


Last edited by LiMoNiTe; 05-13-2011 at 03:31 AM. Reason: editing
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Old 05-13-2011, 02:17 AM   #52
LiMoNiTe
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0

My bad double post :P


Last edited by LiMoNiTe; 05-13-2011 at 02:21 AM. Reason: deleting
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Old 05-14-2011, 06:35 PM   #53
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0





Metahuman Detention Facility
Undisclosed Location


The chopper lands on the helipad on the outskirts of the facility. General Lumpkin and Captain Raye climb out of the helicopter with me on their heels.

"Sorry about the blindfold, Doctor. My bosses insisted that I do it. Just a safety measure."

"I understand, General, or maybe I should say Major General?"

Lumpkin chuckles and touches the second silver star on his shirt collar.

"Just another star and another pay grade. It just means I'll have some more money to spoil my grandchildren when I finally retire."


I follow Lumpkin and Raye into the prison and through the hallways where soldiers and other tough looking men stand guard at every door.

"So what do we know about the superpowered people Victor used?"


"We don't know anything about the men, they refuse to talk to us. The woman, Titania, is talking though. She says her name is Mary McPherran."

"I've heard that name before."

"She was all over the media a year ago. She was a college student that went backpacking in Asia over summer break."

"That's right. She went missing and it kicked off a media frenzy."


"Right. According to her, the last memory she has is hiking through the Yunling Mountains fourteen months ago."

"Is she lying?"

"She failed a polygraph test, but she's on edge. Frightened, confused. It stands to reason that she has every reason to fail a polygraph."

"Since conventional methods aren't working, we've decided to do something different."

Lumpkin and Raye lead the way into an observation room. On the other side of a two-way mirror is Titania, laying down on a couch with a psychiatrist sitting beside her.

"Take a deep breath, Mary. Take a deep breath and describe where you are."

"I.....don't know. All I see is white lights."


"What is this?"

"Hypnotherapy."

"Tell me what you hear, Mary."

"I can hear footsteps. They're getting louder. Something steps into the light, it's a face."

"Describe the face for me."

"It's the face of an Asian man, he's heavyset and has wrinkles around his eyes. He's saying something."

"What's he saying?"

"He's saying ''This may not be homebrewed, human, but prepare to embrace the power of the Skrull."

"Then what happens."

"I can feel...pain. No, stop. He's hurting my arm, picking me up. Oh, God, he's smiling. His face...it's melting, it's dancing around and shifting. He's smiling. Oh my God, he's green! NO! NO!"

Titania begins to struggle on the couch.

"Mary! Calm down! When I snap my fingers, you will go to sleep!"

The hypnotist snaps his fingers and Titania slumps on the couch, unconscious. I turn around and look at Lumpkin and Raye. She's pale while Lumpkin scowls.

"Goddammit."

"General, what was all that about?"

"When I looked over that intel you got from Latveria, I was afraid it might come to this."

"Might come to what, sir?"

"She mentioned the word Skrull. If she's talking about what I think she's talking about then we're in trouble."

"What are you thinking?"

"If what she says is true then the nation of Madripoor, a sovereign nation recognized by the UN, is under control of aliens."

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Old 05-15-2011, 03:38 PM   #54
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0

Quote:
Previously on ’72 Chevy: The meta-human quick-response team under the leadership of Sergeant Tork and Denzel ‘Daz’ Pierce, gained two new members. Called to the scene of a superpowered robbery, both Detective Jean DeWolff and Officer Vin Gonzales have since proven their worth. The squad got Randy ‘The Candy Man’, an MGH dealer, in an interview room and he talked. Now, they’ve managed to track down robber Frank ‘The Kangaroo’ Oliver, but true to his nickname, he jumped off before the team could arrest him.
549 Hudson Street. Bernie's Gym.

“C’mon Daz, rev it up already!” Detective Jean DeWolff yelled as she slammed the door of the Chevy shut behind her. In turn, the hulking detective shook off his daze and put his foot down on the gas. Within seconds, the team’s target was back in view and DeWolff leaned over to grab the radio, giving Tork a convenient opportunity to peek down her shirt.

“Central, this is Seventy-Two Charlie, we got a twenty on our suspect. Number two male, big, wearing sport clothes. Name’s Frank Oliver. Going down Hudson Street. Be warned, suspect has ingested Mutant Growth Hormone. Super strength and jumping abilities confirmed, other effects unknown.”
She dropped the mic in Tork’s lap and settled back into her seat.
“Yeah, what she said,” Tork added and he put the radio back in its position.
“Copy that, Seventy-Two Charlie. Back-up is on the way. Tango’s in the air.”


Created by Byrd Man and Harlekin

Daz pulled the steering wheel, turning the corner with the tires screeching.

“Where do you think he’s headed?” Gonzales asked, ducking to look through the front widow. The Kangaroo was making his way across Manhattan, jumping across, over and up cars. He even managed to leap over a small building. All in all, it was enough to cause quite a traffic jam and Daz needed every bit of his driving skills to keep everyone inside – and outside – the car safe.
“I’m hopin’ he can’t jump the Hudson,” Tork replied. Oliver was already making his way to the edges of the metropolitan island, making his way through Chelsea, the Garment District and Hell’s Kitchen. Tork called in the appropriate ‘twenties’.
“Why isn’t he going for one of the bridges? With the traffic on those, he could lose us,” DeWolff added.
“He’d be in plain sight too, knows cops would just be waitin’ on him on the other side,” Tork replied.
“Guess he’s smarter than he looks,” Gonzales said, looking at the photo he had taken from the Australian’s police records. The face was pock marked, bruised and scarred. “Man, maybe he was stealing the money to get plastic surgery.”
“You’d think a kid like that would make enough money in underground fightin’,” Tork said.
“Unless they were suspecting him of using MGH,” DeWolff replied.
“To make sure he won,” Gonzales added.
“Now it could just be to keep his addiction up.”
Gonzales was about to speak, when Daz interrupted him. “Uh, guys?” They’d ended up in Manhattan’s harbour district, surrounded by long rows of warehouses and containers. “He went to ground.”
Tork grabbed the shotgun from between his legs and chambered two fresh rounds.
“Keep your eyes out. Could be anywhere now.”
The two cops in the back grabbed their own weapons in response.

Slowly, the Chevy made its way along the row of containers, each member of the squad looking in a different direction. Not one of them caught even a glimpse of their target.
“You think we lost ‘im?” Gonzales asked.
“Let’s--” Tork didn’t get a chance to finish, speaking as two feet dented the top of the Chevy, right in the centre.
<CLANG!>
Fortunately, all four inside were unharmed, but the villain had jumped onto another container and was making his escape.
“Gonna get him now,” Daz said as he pushed down on the gas.

Daz wasn’t the only one angry. At One Police Plaza, the NYPD’s headquarters, Deputy Marcus Stone had started to raise his voice. He was seated next to Captain Andy McLean, the seventeenth precinct’s commanding officer, in the office of the commissioner, Brian Muldoon.
“What’s the #$%^ing use of that?” Stone yelled at McLean.
“Get the word out. NYPD’s cracking down on MGH. We can worry about rolling him up later,” McLean responded, looking to the commissioner for support.
“He’s got a point, Marcus.”
Incredulous, Stone turned to Muldoon. “All he’s got is a small-time dealer in his cell, Brian.”
“He sells to most of Midtown actually,” McLean interrupted.
“That’s not the issue, here. They got him talking didn’t they?”
“They did,” McLean agreed. “Thanks to Detective DeWolff, I don’t mind adding. Quite an improvement on the braindeads Tork usually employs.”
Stone shot McLean a devastating look before continuing. “If you really arrest him, she might as well not have bothered. You can’t tell the public you’re stopping MGH from *&^%ing up their kids and their streets and then turn around and give this man a deal. And you know he’s worthless when he’s actually behind bars.”
Stone looked to Muldoon. “All you would do is cut the branches. This is a chance to get at the root of it. But we’ll need him scared… and on the street.”

“You think he’s going for a final stand?” Gonzales asked Tork. The Chevy was parked in front of a warehouse that had the doors ripped from the hinges. Situated on the edge of a dock, there really was nowhere else to go for Frank Oliver. Meanwhile, various messages came crackling over the radio: in the maze of containers, the back-up had quite simply gotten lost. What was left that is, as the most – and Tango, the surveillance helicopter – had been called to the Daily Bugle’s offices downtown.
“Might as well oblige him, gup,” Tork said as he opened the door, shotgun in hand. The others followed suit, their own revolvers drawn.
“You stick with the radio DeWolff, keep the boys posted,” Tork then said, looking to his female partner. She returned the look and undid the safety of her .45.
“Are you *&^%ing serious?”

“You got anything to add, Derrick?” Muldoon looked to the newest arrival in his office.
“I think Marcus is right,” the major in charge of the narcotics department replied. “We’ve had this Candyman in our sights for quite a while. Brought him in once or twice, didn’t think much of him. But if these figures from Financial Fraud our correct…”
“The money’s going to a bigger bad,” Marcus Stone added.
Muldoon sighed. “Why hasn’t anything been done about this before?”
“Department’s still busy cleaning up the mess from the gang war to look at anything else,” Stone responded.
Muldoon looked to the narcotics commander. “When did this happen?”
“Sir?”
“This MGH business, when did it hit Midtown?”
“Can’t be that long ago. But honestly, sir, it wasn’t our priority.”
“Why not?”
“Because you said it wasn’t.”
Stone’s eyes shot up and locked with Muldoon’s.

The four cops entered the warehouse slowly, each of them covering a side. Tork walked ahead with Daz to his left, Gonzales to his right and DeWolff covering the back. They looked carefully around the building, which was filled with stacked crates. Judging by the temperature, which was nearly below zero, and by the smell, what was being sold and transported was fish. And not all the packaging was up to regulation.
“Never eating seafood again,” Gonzales said.
“Certainly not sushi,” DeWolff added.
Not caring for banter, Daz then said: “Where the *&^% is he?”
“Right here, mate,” Frank Oliver said as he jumped into the group, feet first.

Muldoon sat back in his chair. “Don’t look so surprised, Marcus.”
What had started as surprise had quickly transformed into disgust for the deputy commissioner, whose fingers curled around the chair’s rests and he nearly snapped them in twain.
“Nobody cares about downtown?” Stone now repeated the commissioner’s words. “How can you say that?”
“In jest, of course,” McLean came to Muldoon’s defence. He pretended to chuckle and the other men besides Stone followed suit.
“Yes, calm down, Marcus. All I said was that downtown was not a high priority area, not for the narcotics department.”
“That’s exactly where we need to clean up!”
“By sweeping it under the carpet, hmm? Concentrating our efforts on downtown would leave nothing for the rest of the city, Marcus. You know that. You’re the deputy for crying out loud.” Muldoon laughed. “There’s some parts you can’t clean up, you can only stop the filth from spreading.”

The Kangaroo’s attack sent all four of the cops to the ground and their weapons scattered across the floor. Daz was the first one up and he delivered an immediate uppercut to the former boxer’s face. Oliver however, wasn’t fazed. Instead, he smiled and jabbed Daz in the stomach. He would’ve punched him again, but by then Gonzales had jumped on his back and was stomping on whatever part of the body he could hit. With a roar, the Kangaroo threw the Hispanic cop from his back and jumped away, knocking down Tork again for good measure. Fortunately, he landed right beside his shotgun, which he swiftly picked up. Unfortunately, he missed his shot, the pellet burrowing into a crate instead of the man who disappeared behind it.

“I think Andy’s right. Tombstone’s jail, Silvermane’s dead. There’ll be players coming for their territory. Have a gang war right in the streets. Who knows, maybe this MGH is the first phase of that. We need to let the public know the NYPD won’t just let up because some big shots were put behind bars.”

“You all right?” Gonzales asked as he helped Daz to his feet. His colleague nodded, rubbing his neck.
“Packs a punch,” Daz said.
Meanwhile, Detective DeWolff had also gotten up and was scanning the immediate area – with her gun at the ready. “Come out with your hands up, Mr. Oliver,” she said. “You come easy and--”
“--we won’t have to hurt you,” Tork added. “Even though we want to.”
“Obliged,” the Kangaroo said as he suddenly jumped into view before the squad could react. Swatting her .45 away, the villain immediately grabbed DeWolff by the neck, his giant hand easily enclosing it. “Pretty,” he said grinning as he lifted her from the ground.
“Let her go,” Tork said, his shotgun aimed at the criminal’s head.
“Ah, ah, we’ll have none of that mate,” the Kangaroo responded, looking to Tork. “Unless you want me to crush yer little girl’s windpipe. Be a shame, wouldn’t you say?”
Tork hesitated and so did the rest. Fortunately, they didn’t need to. In her struggle, DeWolff managed the hit the robber right between the legs. He winced and let her go, but sadly for the squad, the Kangaroo’s pain was numbed by the MGH. This allowed the criminal to strike immediately at Tork’s shotgun, sending it out of his hands and Gonzales’ and Daz’s weapons were still on the floor.
“All right then,” the sergeant responded to the counter attack with his own, punching the criminal in the abdomen. His companions followed suit, charging the Kangaroo.

“I get it, Marcus, I do,” Muldoon said. It was just him and Stone in the office now. “Tork’s team wouldn’t exist without you. You saw the potential – for the good, as well as the bad, I should say – and harnessed it. And he’s doing great.”
The police commissioner smiled as he shuffled a few papers on his desk. “Although Captain de LaGuardia still wants to have a word, of course.” He laughed at that.

The Kangaroo took a few blows before he came to his senses, headbutting Gonzales and swatting away Tork. The latter made his way for his shotgun, but the criminal stepped on it and gave the sergeant another kick to the head for his trouble. DeWolff was still on the ground, coughing. Gonzales roared as he got up, grabbing onto the Kangaroo’s arm, which gave Daz the chance to land a few more punches. Unable to respond with his right fist, Frank Oliver kicked at his opponent, which he did with about the same force he would make a leap with. It sent Daz flying out of the warehouse.

Muldoon took out a bottle of whiskey from his desk. “Drink?”
Stone refused. The commissioner took a sip from his glass and sighed contentedly before continuing: “Locking up the Candy Man – what a ridiculous name, by the way, remember when criminals used to be creative? Well, it’ll look good on his record and ours for that matter. We’ll reel in the big fish later, okay?”
Stone’s eyes shot fire, but he nodded.
“Splendid.”

The Kangaroo and Gonzales were trading blows, but it was mostly the scrappy harbour patrolman who was taking them. Tork pounded on his back. DeWolff, who had since gotten up, searched for her weapon which had been sent skidding across the floor during the fracas. She found it just as the Kangaroo turned to her. Tork was bruised and beaten on the ground behind him, Gonzales was barely standing.

The man’s giant hand wrapped around the .45’s nuzzle and forced it upwards. He was about to move for the woman holding the gun, when he noticed DeWolff looking to her left. She released the weapon and hurriedly stepped back. The Kangaroo didn’t notice until he felt the impact.

<CRASH!>

The ’72 Chevy’s bumper smashed into the criminal’s side, the force enough to see him fly through the air.

“You don’t mess with the *&^%ing Chevy,” Daz said from behind the wheel.

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Old 05-17-2011, 11:30 PM   #55
Andy C.
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0


Quote:
"So you're sure about leaving TriCorp?"

"Not at all, Ben. But I don't really have any other options. They're throwing us overboard, and OsCorp is offering us a life raft. It's a tough situation, but I think this is the right thing to do."

"True, but from what you've said, the OsCorp deal might not even go through. At least with TriCorp, you're guaranteed some money."

"Some money isn't enough! Do you really want us to stay cooped up in your house for even longer? Peter's due in less than two months, and Mary's having to take maternity leave. If there's even a chance that I might make enough money to support the family and get our own place, I have to take that offer."

"I guess you're right. Still, May and I will keep you in our prayers."

"Thanks. Well, here's to OsCorp, and the wonders of the modern world they make there."

"Cheers."

"....wait, did I leave my camera o--"


This is what you might call a tricky situation.

I'm trapped in J. Jonah Jameson's office at the Daily Bugle, after Scorpion busted in, looking for some payback for getting blasted in the paper. As if that wasn't bad enough, the lunatic's floating robots tipped him off that Spider-Man is in the building, though they haven't zeroed in on me.....yet. So now he's threatening to kill Mr. Jameson if I don't show myself in ten seconds.

The Bugle's office is full of people--Jameson, Robbie Roberts, Ned Leeds, Betty Brant, and a bunch of other people I haven't officially met yet--so if I just make a grab for my backpack and pull out my Spidey gear, someone will see it. So I've got to come up with a diversion--one that will get Scorpion and everyone else's attention and not make him mad enough to kill my boss.

In short, I have to come up with something unbelievably clever in a very short amount of time.

"NINE!" Scorpion barks, Jameson gasping for breath as Gargan's mechanical tail constricts around him.

Okay, let's see what I've got.......got my costume on under my clothes, except for my mask and gloves, which are stashed in my backpack. I've got my web-shooters strapped on, but again, if he hears so much as a THWIP, all eyes will be on me.

"EIGHT!"

Two of those Slayer drones are still buzzing around from one person to the next, scanning them, presumably to find out which one of us has a little extra something floating around in their bloodstream. At the rate they're working their way through the room, I've got maybe six seconds before they get to me.

"SEVEN!"

Think, Parker, think! I have to do something big and loud enough to distract everyone long enough to suit up, but something that won't automatically trace back to my location.

"SIX!"

I reach towards the small pouch on my belt for a web-cartridge, wanting to be able to load it as quickly as I can after whatever the hell I come up with......

....wait a minute.....

"FIVE!"

The web-cartridges.....extremely pressurized, very small and hard to see.......if I can puncture the side of it, then all that pressure.....

.....this is gonna be a really neat trick if I can pull it off.

"FOUR!"

One of the drones floats past Betty Brant and makes its way toward Ned Leeds. I'm the only other person on this side of the room. It's now or never, Parker.

I grab Mr. Jameson's letter opener and a big wad of sticky-tack from his desk. I jam the letter opener as hard as I can into the cartridge, breaching the compartment. In that same split-second, I slam the wad of sticky-tack over the breach, withdrawing the blade carefully. This won't contain it for more than a second or two, but it'll give me enough time.

"THREE!"


I quickly roll the broken cartridge along the ground, towards Scorpion. It stops right at Gargan's feet as the sticky-tack begins to swell up.

"What the--"

*SPLAT!*

My jury-rigged web-bomb erupts right under the psychotic former hero, coating him and Jameson and everything in a ten-foot radius in webbing. The Slayer drones break off from their spider-hunt to help cut Scorpion free from the mess I made, which gives me plenty of time to grab my mask and gloves, change into my outfit, and even set up my camera for photos.

Man, I'm good.

"RRRAAAAAAAGGGGH!" Scorpion snarls as he pulls off gobs of webbing, which then in turn get stuck on his hands. The Slayer drones start burning it away with some kind of self-contained laser arrays, but the longer he has to stay still so they can do their job, the angrier he gets. "Show yourself, Spider-Man!"

While he's distracted, I leap out the big hole that Scorpion made out of Mr. Jameson's window, then swing around the side of the building to come crashing through a different one. That way nobody's looking over at where Peter Parker should be when Spidey hits the scene.

"Right here, Scorpy," I say, making a big show of it, landing in a front hand spring before propelling myself up onto the ceiling, then doing an upside-down cartwheel over Scorpion's head and landing in front of him.

"So here I am, face-to-face with my oldest and most dangerous enemy, my arch-rival and sworn nemesis.......and Scorpion's holding him hostage!"

Jameson gives me an annoyed scowl.

"Very funny, Spider-Man. You know the whole reason this maniac was created was to deal with dangerous vigilantes like you."

"Really? It's not enough you've gotta drag my name through the mud every chance you get, you've also got to sponsor the super-powered psychopaths I have to deal with?"

"I'm trying to rid this city of the criminal scum that pollute it!"
Gargan growls. "I'm doing what I was made to do! And now Jameson and his paper turned on me, told everyone that I'm a monster!"

"Hey, I can understand you being surprised that Jolly Jonah here took the controversial position of being anti-mass-murderer,"
I say, noting the irritated grimace on Jameson's face at the sound of that nickname--I am so using that from now on-- "but don't you think it'd be kind of counterintuitive to respond to charges of murder with, y'know, more murder?"

"Don't take that sanctimonious tone with me, Spider,"
Scorpion hisses, dropping JJ to the ground and aiming his tail at me. "We both know you've done just as much as I have to the scum of the city."

"Ummm, dude? I don't kill people. Ever,"
I say as we circle each other.

"You aligned yourself with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, the man who butchered Silvermane's syndicate."

"....and I un-aligned myself with him once I found out what he was doing."

"No excuses! You've got the city thinking you're their hero, but I know the truth! That you're no better than the criminal vermin you claim to fight!"

"So that's what this is about? You're mad that I'm getting all the spotlight?"
I glance around, seeing the horrified faces of my co-workers, scared to death that any second this newsroom is going to erupt into a battle royale.

"Well how about you and I really make some headlines? You let these people go and I'll take you on, one-on-one. Sound fair?"

Scorpion looks around at the same terrified onlookers, then back at me....and smiles.

"Actually, if it's all the same to you, I think they're going to stay right where they are while I kill you."

With that, he lunges at me. I jump out of the way of his hands, but that's what he was expecting; he pivots on one foot and slaps me out of the air with that cybernetic tail of his.

I go tumbling across the newsroom, wincing at the pain in my side. Fortunately he didn't hit me with the bladed stinger, but still....OW. Guy doesn't hit quite as hard as Rhino, but it's still no fun.

I spring to my feet, and Scorpion's right on me, running towards me to deliver a big haymaker. I duck the punch and use his momentum to throw him over my shoulder, sending him into the wall...where he sticks and re-positions for another attack.

Crap, I forgot he can wall-crawl, too.

Gargan leaps off the wall rolling forward, bringing his tail swinging down like an axe. I juke out of the way as the clubbing tail tears a big gash through the floor, but before I can set up a counterattack, my Spider-Senses alert me to a massive heat source building up behind me. I'm barely able to spring away as one of his Slayer drones fires its laser at me.

"Oh come on!" I protest as another Slayer opens fire as well. "You get to use your flying laser robots too? How's that fair?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to protect this city!"
Scorpion says, following after me as we jump from floor to ceiling to wall and back. "Being 'fair' doesn't enter into it!"

"End justify the means, huh?"
I ask, jumping forward, then flipping back towards him to unload a shot of webbing at his face. "Does that include endangering tons of innocent bystanders? Y'know, like we're doing now?"

As he struggles to pry the web off of his eyes, I rope him with another strand of web and start to pull him towards the window.

"Let's take this outside, shall we?"

As I lean forward to pull, one of the Slayers cuts through my web-line, and I stumble right into a swatting tail strike from Scorpion.

"Let's not," he says with a sneer as he pulls the webbing off his face. The two Slayer drones flank him on either side and keep me scrambling along the floor as they blast away with their lasers.

I've got to get rid of those things or I'm not going to last much longer.

"Okay, well, while we're in this nice cluttered newsroom, I might as well make the most of it," I say, firing two lines of webbing that just barely miss the Slayer drones. That's to say, they would have 'just barely missed' if I were aiming for them.

One of the web-lines yanks a fire extinguisher off of the wall, while the other snags a big potted plant. As Scorpion lunges, I leap over him and pull my arms across my chest, slinging the two webbed objects right into each of the Slayers.

Neither of the impacts does a whole heck of a lot of damage, but they do send the drones careening as they try to regain their bearings. As I hit the ground, I web up one of the 'bots and then spin, swinging the drone like a mace into the other one. Both robots shatter upon impact and clatter to the ground.

"NO!" Scorpion howls, slashing me across the chest with his bladed stinger. There's a small splash of blood as the blade slices me, leaving an angry red scar right across my spider logo.

"Aaagh!" I yelp, staggering back before Scorpion spear-tackles me to the ground.

"You're weak, Spider!" he growls, pummeling me with punches to the gut and sides. "You let the vermin go, allow them to appeal to the courts, where they can get out and be back on the streets in no time! I make sure they can never hurt anyone again!"

He kicks me away, then holds up his arms and shouts to the Bugle staff,

"I'M the hero here! Do you see it?! I'M THE HERO!!!"

While he's grandstanding, I fire two web-lines on either side of the great big hole he made in Mr. Jameson's wall.

"Well, you know what, Mac?" I say as I pull the lines taut and take a few steps back. "Sometimes being the hero isn't all it's cracked up to be."

With that, I jump up, the powerful tension of the web-lines shooting me forwards like a slingshot, and I slam into Scorpion's chest with both feet.

We go flying out the window together, and I fire a line back onto the wall of the Bugle building while Scorpion tumbles through the air with nothing to catch him. Finally, I snag the end of his tail with a line and pull down hard, and he swings downward, slamming face-first into the side of the building and knocking him out cold.

I wince from the pain across my chest--not to mention a dozen other bumps and bruises all over--as I pull the unconscious Scorpion up and wrap him up in webbing thick enough that he can't escape.

"Sorry about the mess, folks," I say as Betty Brant and Ned Leeds come out of their cover. "But hey, it'll make for a great story in tomorrow's paper."

"Now hang on just one minute!"
Jameson barks. "You've just completely trashed our newsroom, caused thousands of dollars of collateral damage, and put us all in considerable jeopardy, and you think you're just going to walk away?! I don't think so, Web-Head!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, how inconsiderate of me,"
I say, my voice stinging with bitter sarcasm. "Maybe next time I'll just let him kill you and save everyone the trouble of cleaning up. You're welcome, Pickle-puss."

As I stagger towards the busted window where I came in, I look back at the other members of the Bugle and try to give them as much of a wink and a grin as I can from under my mask.

"Oh, and by the way? I lied--being a hero is awesome."

With that, I leap out the window....then swing back in to where I was supposed to be hiding as Peter Parker, put my clothes back on as quickly as possible while everyone's still gawking at where I just left, and pull my jacket closed to cover up the big blood stain on the front of my shirt.

"Umm.....Mister Jameson?" I say weakly, holding up my camera. "I, um.......I got pictures for you."

So I got to save my boss's life, completely belittle him in front of his employees, and now he's going to pay me for taking photos of the whole thing.

Yes sir, being a hero is awesome.

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Old 05-19-2011, 05:22 AM   #56
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Fallowing Feral’s scent it leads me to a cave up on the mountains. The only thing is she isn’t in the cave though. She did good job of back stepping her tracks, if I hadn’t received my training from Sabretooth I would have walk right in the cave and fell right into her trap.

“For someone who lost her mind and reverted to her animal side you did a good job of sneaking behind me. I almost fell for it, almost.” I say as I turn around and see Feral standing facing me with a fighting pose about to strike.

“At first when I heard about you I thought I was being lied to but seeing you I know it’s true. I stand her not as a treat but as a friend and yet you still wish to attack me. I was sent her to kill you but I have a feeling you know that, but I’m not going to do that. You did so much for me there is no way I’ll let your life end like this, a mindless animal. That is why I’m going to end this fast.” I extend my claws and cover myself in my organic steel. “Normally when I fight I try to fight my opponent on equal footing, Victor used to say that is my way of just playing with my prey. But if I did that with you it would take longer than I would like. That is why I’m going to fight you with this advantage. With this organic steel covering me and my claws none of your attack will affect me. I will end this fast, when you wake up again you will be that same lovely lady I first met.”

Now knowing I have the intention to fight her she extends her claws as well comes at me and strikes me with her right hand.


A couple of moments later the fight had come to an end. The fight was pretty easy for me but Native gain a great deal of injuries but thanks to her healing ability I know she will be okay and she won’t be knocked out for long. I then turn on the communication device to the agents in the helicopter.

“This is Mimic I have Feral and I’m going to take her back to base.”

“But sir your mission was to..”

“I don’t need you to remind me what my mission was to do. Last time I checked I was in charge here. So do you have a problem with what I’m doing?”

“No sir not at all, we’ll see you back at base.”

I pick Feral up into my arms and take to the skies. With me flying at half the speed of light I shall be able to get her back before she wakes up.

Back at the base I stand in the observing room looking at the telepath’s working on Feral’s mind. As I stand watching I smell my godfather approaching. As he walks around the corner he stops by my side.

“I was wondering how long it was going to take you to get here once you found out I was back.”

He looks in on Feral then turns his attention towards me.

“I understand how much you care about her but I thought your mission was to exterminate her?”

“That it was but my primary mission is to recruit members for my team remember?”

“True but as I told you and I’m sure you witnessed she isn’t in the right state of mind.”

“Correct she wasn’t in the right state of mind, Sara is fine now. Thanks to M and the other telepath’s they are putting Sara’s mind back to normal. Come to find out someone did this to her.”

“Were you able to find out who?”

“No, they did a good job of erasing her memories for the past 3 weeks without leaving a trace.”

“I see. If you don’t mind me asking why didn’t you kill her? How would you even know this would even work?”

“She is well skilled and a great trainer, she is going to be perfect for my second in command. I knew this would work because I remember that when you first met her she was in that animal mind state and this is what you did to make her more human, if you will.”

“Very well then, not even the leader of the team for 24 hours and your already disobeying orders. When your team is completely assembled come and see me.” He then pats me on the back and walks away.

Funny I thought he would be happy that I was able to bring Sara back to normal but instead he sees my actions as defying orders, this is interesting.

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Old 05-20-2011, 07:17 PM   #57
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The Baxter Building


General Lumpkin calls the four of us and Captain Raye into the Baxter Building's conference room. He sits at the head of the table while we find out seats.

"First things first, everyone turn off your phones and any other electronic devices."

"Dude, seriously? I gotta keep my followers updated on Twitter."

"Storm, you so much as go to type on that thing, I will shove it so far up your ass that your throat will tingle every time you get a text. Turn. It. Off."

Johnny rolls his eyes before fishing his Blackberry out of his pocket and turning it off. Lumpkin waits before we've all complied before continuing.

"Before we continue, I think some backstory is needed. There is a reason I was picked up to lead up this project. In 1972, all of humanity was threatened by an alien force. Their attempt to invade Earth was halted by combined American, Soviet, and Chinese special forces with the help of SHIELD. After seeing we had some fight in us, the aliens backed off and reached out to us. There was a meeting in the Pacific, on the tiny Lae Atoll."

Lumpkin picks up a piece of paper on the table and passes it around.

"There are only six known copies of this document in existence. Three belong to the Russians and Chinese. This does not leave this room."

Ben looks at the paper stunned before passing it to me. It's a peace treaty. Signed by the three global superpowers and a representative from something called the Shi'ar Imperium. The treaty was signed by Nixon, Mao, and Brezhnev along with the representatives of the Shi'ar and military advisers from all sides. I stop when I see the name by Nixon.

"USAF Major William Lumpkin?" I say in an amused tone. "How exactly did you end up rubbing elbows with Nixon, Mao, and aliens?"

"That is another story for another day, Doctor. For the rest of the story, the Shi'ar signed the treaty and went back into space, and apart from the odd Shi'ar cruiser being picked up by the Hubble every few years, they haven't been seen since. The brief skirmish introduced us to extraterrestrial life. Although we swapped very little intel with the Shi'ar, we know of two other alien races out there. The Kree and the Skrulls. The Kree appear similar to us, and they may have a presence here on Earth. Skrulls...well, the only thing we know about them is a note that the Shi'ar left. It reads 'Avoid Skrull at all cost.' The Shi'ar could have kicked our ass if they'd have used more than just one medium sized starship, and these Skrulls send them running? That means they're bad news."

"You said Skrull right? Does anyone else remember that word?"

"Wait a minute, didn't the Watcher say that word when we talked to him?"

"Yes, he said that he used a process similar to the Skrull bioengineering formula to give us our powers."

"And that brings us to where we are now. The intel you gathered from Von Doom shows that he was in bed with Madripoor, and Madripoor created those four superpowered individuals you faced. They were brainwashed."

"The only one who would talk was the woman, Mary McPherran. She recalled being experimented on and hearing the words Skrull along with seeing a green face."

"Your powers, coupled with the description brought us to one conclusion..."

Lumpkin walks over to the television hanging on the wall and turns it on. It's grainy footage from last year, the Avengers fighting that green monster in Times Square.

"His powers matched yours and his face matches McPherran's description. I think he's the Skrull."

"He's a Skrull, and he's supposed to have something to do with Madripoor. So what's out next move?"

"Right now, I'm putting out feelers to a few people, hoping to get something back. Put for now, don't get too comfortable here. Cause it looks like we'll be going to Madripoor."

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Old 05-23-2011, 08:19 PM   #58
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0


Created by Byrd Man and Harlekin

East 51st Street
17th Precinct


Tork and DeWolff stood behind the two-way mirror and watched as Daz and Gonzales went at Frank Oliver in the interrogation room. Oliver was shackled and chained to the chair. Daz had dried blood clotting his nostrils while Gonzales wore a shiner under his right eye.

"Hey, Vin," Daz said.

"Yeah, Daz?"

"Give me a good reason not to kick the ever loving **** outta this guy in front of me."

"You know, I kinda feel the same way."

"I mean, it's too damn easy, ain't it? He looks like that ghost dude from the Scrooge story, all them chains."

"Nah, leave him be," Gonzales said as he placed a hand on Daz's shoulder. "As much fun as it'd be, we already kicked his ass. Time for the DA to have his turn."

"You're right," Daz said with a smile. "DNA evidence, a DVD of you robbing the bank with them freaky jumping powers, and your dealer squealing everything he knows about you."

"Strikes one, two, and three. Looks like you're out. Probably be fifteen to life before you get another at-bat."

"Or," Daz added. "You can tell us where you got the drugs from and we might knock off a few years. Was it from the Candy Man each time?"

"**** you," Oliver replied in his Australian accent. "You think Riker's is prison? Me old man went to an Australian penal camp. Breaking rocks during the middle of the scorching hot Outback summer, drinking polluted water. That's prison, mate."

"Damn," Tork said from the other side of the mirror. "We should have went in there. I love Daz to death, but sweating a prep isn't one of his strong suits."

"Leave them to the chum," DeWolff said as she turned away from the glass. "Randy was on the verge of giving his supplier up. We come at him harder and tell him that Oliver gave him up, we'll probably have to shut him up."

"I like it," Tork said with a nod. "You want to do good cop/bad cop?"

"How about bad cop/worse cop?" DeWolff said as she left the observation room. Tork smirked and followed behind her towards the other interrogation room.

"Bad news, Randy," DeWolff said as soon as she walked into the interrogation room. "Oliver is talking, so you are royally fu-," she stopped short when she saw that the drug dealer Randy The Candy Man wasn't sitting at the table. In his place was Captain Andy McLean, the One-Seven's commander.

"Sorry to knock the wind out of your sails, Jean, but Randy is on his way to the Tombs. He'll be arraigned and on the ferry to Riker's by the weekend."

"What's going on?" Tork asked with a scowl. "Who authorized that move?"

"I did," McLean said. "You charged him, he gave you all you needed on the robber Oliver. Now that both are in police custody, the case is closed."

"He was preparing to roll on his suppliers," DeWolff said.

"That's not this unit's mandate is it? I thought it was crimes involving metahumans. If you have something for Narcotics then give it to them. As it stands right now, the case is closed. End of story."

"Says who?" Tork spat.

"The commissioner," McLean curtly replied. "That's right, so go on and cry to Deputy Stone. It won't make a bit of difference, Tork."

"You son of a *****," Tork said with a shake of his head. "This is about police work, real police work, and you make it a pissing match."

"Get out of my sight, Tork," McLean snapped. "Get the hell out of here before I charge you with conduct unbecoming."

Tork turned around and stomped out of the room. McLean stood up and walked towards DeWolff. "I'm sorry about that. Tork has the deputy's ear, so he thinks that makes him special. I house the 567, but I don't like them. There's a chain of command for a reason, Jean, but Tork doesn't get that."

"So you sacrificed a good case to teach him a lesson?" DeWolff asked. "Way to go," she sarcastically added. "Hope it was worth it."

"Don't go anywhere, Detective," McLean said as DeWolff was walking out. "Get one of your squadmates, we're doing some grip and grin at 1PP. Commish wants you and another officer there."


One Police Plaza

"With the new wave of metahuman crime and violence, our response and actions must be swift and decisive," NYPD Commissioner Brian Muldoon said from behind the podium. TV cameras and reporters were all crowded in the room in front of him. Behind him on the stage were Deputy Stone, McLean, Captain Stacy, DeWolff, and Daz.

"We have been challenged by the upswing of violence and we are responding with our best and brightest. A special unit made of such officers stopped a violent metahuman offender before he had a chance to commit any further damage to this great city. Now the people of New York can rest easy, while the criminal underworld cower in fear. This is a message to all of those that feed on our city like parasites. Justice will find you. But it will not come from men in masks, but from the officers of the law. It's a new day in New York, and the corner has been turned. Let me bring up two people responsible for today's actions. Detective Jean DeWolff and Officer Denzel Pierce."

DeWolff and Daz stepped up to the podium as Muldoon stepped back and put his arms around their shoulders. "Beside me are the news faces of the NYPD. Good officers unafraid of doing what it takes to get the job done, people who can't be corrupted or buckle to pressure. Under my watch, this will come to pass."

The cameras flashed as the commissioner gripped the two cops shoulders and smiled as wide as he could.

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Old 06-07-2011, 12:58 PM   #59
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“Th-that’ll be twent—ten dollars. Ten dollarsh. Not twenty, s-sorry.”

*Hic*

The tourist reluctantly handed me a ten, took his airbrushed superhero shirt and walked off. Man. **** that guy. Giving me a weird look. Like I’m—like I’m some kinda ass****. **** you, guy. You’re the ass****. Not me. ****ing ass****.

*Hic*

“Sales are…are pretty good, huh?” I says before bringing the paper bag up to my bill and chugging that Grey Goose what gets me loose.

“I guess so…I mean, I think we would have made a lot more if, you know…you didn’t use half our profits to buy booze,” Lester said, pointing to the empty booze bottles in paper bags littered around the cart.

Man………………………….sh-shut up.”

*Gluglugluglug*

“Why don’t you hand me that ten so’s I can…I can get me a refill…old chum?”

“I think you’ve had enough bro. Besides, we’ll be losing money soon if you keep getting more.”

“Aw, c’mon! C’moooonnnn!!! Y-you expect me to be out here dealing with these ass****s all day angh—and be sober? What are you, retarded? That’s boring, man!”

“Maybe you should take a break for a minute, bro?”

Oh a break?! Okay, I’ll take a ****ing break! For a ****ing minute! Bro!”

I drop the paper bag onto the floor and the bottle inside explodes.

“And while I’m on break, you can go ahead and clean that **** up, arr-alright? Tough guy?”

“I wasn’t—“

I grunt and wave him away as I start walking away from the cart. What an ass****. I’m surrounded by ass****s. When I’m half a block away from the ass****, I realize something. I gotta piss like a racehorse.

Who came up with that, I wonder? Do racehorses pee a lot? Is like, that their specialty? Aside from racing? Peeing? Whatever. All I knows is, I gotta piss like a racehorse. I duck behind and alleyway and use a garbage can for cover, in case any cops or good Samaritans call me out. I almost fire away before realizing I’m wearing pants. Stupid ****ing pants. Stupid ****ing Disney.

I unzip it, and then whip it…...out.

A wave a warm relief washes over my tiny body as my mighty stream splashes against the brick wall.

CREEEEEK

I whip my head around. No cops. No curious bystanders. Must be some kinky homeless guy hiding somewhere. I look forward and carry on.

RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE

I whip my head around again. Nothing. Stray cat maybe? Eyes forward. Finish up and give it a good shake before packing up and zipping.

THUDTHUDTHUD

I try to look over my shoulder again. But halfway there, something slides over my head and everything goes black. I feel a pair of arms grab me by the legs and lift me up. I try to scream but another pair of hands closes over my bill.

****. Should not have taken that break.

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Old 06-09-2011, 12:32 AM   #60
Andy C.
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0


Quote:
"So.....how did the interview go?"

"Well.......it was kind of.......well......"

".....Richard....?"

".....I got the job!"

"Oh my God! Richard, that's amazing! OsCorp is really taking us?"

"Not only that, they're giving us an even higher bonus than TriCorp!"

"That's incredible! And to think, when we met with Mr. Osborn, I didn't think he liked us."

"I didn't expect it either. But then again, according to the rumor mill, Norman Osborn is full of surprises like that."
Swinging through the air on lines of what is essentially super-glue on steroids that pull on your arms and shoulders probably isn't what most people would think of doing while recovering from a gaping chest wound caused by the bladed cybernetic tail of a psychotic super-villain, but then again, I'm not most people.

Things are going pretty nicely since my encounter with Scorpion. The Bugle staff is standing up for me a lot more, much to Mr. Jameson's chagrin. One of these days I'm going to have to sit him down and ask him very politely just what the frak his deal is.

My grades are picking up, especially now that I can study with Gwen again and not have to worry about all those awkward will-we-won't-we pauses or someone like Eddie butting in. Plus we get to make out if we finish our homework before her dad gets home. So yeah, that's pretty awesome too.

Throw in the fact that next week we start our internships at Doctor Connors' lab at OsCorp, and everything's looking pretty dang--

.....oh crap, that building's on fire.

Swinging my way down the street, I make my way towards a pillar of smoke and flames erupting from a five-story tenement building. Firefighters are already outside trying to put out the blaze, but there's only so much they can do. As people are being evacuated, I can see them signaling desperately to the emergency workers, letting them know there are still people inside.

I leap down from the rooftop and find the captain, or chief, or whatever the ranks are for firefighters. The one who's calling the shots.

"What's the situation?" I ask, trying to sound as officious as I can. "I mean, y'know, apart from the fact that there's a fire."

The captain gives me a skeptical look, shrugs, then gestures to the burning building.

"Fire started on the second floor, probably an electrical short," he says. "Stairs are blocked off between the third and fourth floors, so the people on top can't get out. We're trying to cut through the debris on the stairwell, but it's taking too much time."

"Right. I think I can help with that,"
I say, running towards the inferno and webbing my way up to the fourth floor.

Smoke is pouring out of the windows as I climb up and into the tenement house. It's so thick I can barely see my own hand in front of my face, the only light coming from the angry orange flames that climb up the walls and eat away at the structural supports. I cough and hack as I carefully navigate the burning building. Maybe I should've asked for an oxygen mask before charging in.

I hear voices coming from behind a door and call out to them.

"Everyone stand back from the door! I'm comin' in!"

With that, I kick the door open and am actually rather surprised that it comes off completely--the dramatic door-kick is way more effective when you've got super-strength. I'm even more surprised when the resulting backdraft creates a wave of fire that rushes up behind me. Fortunately, my Spider-Senses warn me in the nick of time and I dive forward to avoid being cooked alive.

Looking inside, I see a Hispanic family of five or six huddled in the corner: two parents, three kids, and an old grandma. All around them, their apartment is crumbling as the fire consumes the furniture and weakens the floor and ceiling.

I spray out wide nets of webbing to suffocate some of the flames--I found out while making the stuff for the Science Fair that it's decently flame-retardant, if not completely fireproof. Looking for a way out, I clear a path to one of the windows.

"It's a long drop, but I think I can lower everyone down safely with my webs," I say to the family, beckoning for them to come over.

They exchange confused looks at each other, then look at me, puzzled.

"I said I can lower everyone down, like a rope, see?" I say again.

They again look at me with bewilderment.

"....habla ingles?"

They all shake their heads.

I sigh in frustration, then try to recall what I learned in Spanish class.

"Puedo ponerlo abajo seguro, si uso mi webs como cuerda. ¿Ves?"
I say, pretty certain that I'm butchering the language, trying to pantomime what I'm talking about so they don't think I'm a complete idiot.

Finally, the mother gets the picture and hurries the kids over. I do what I can to fashion a harness out of webbing around their waists and arms, then attach it to a line connected to my web-shooter.

"Okay, hold on tight, and don't look down," I say as I pick up the little boy and start to lower him out of the window. "Erm.....Agárrate fuerte, no mires abajo."

I activate my web-shooter with the nozzle adjusted to a low setting, so the line lowers him down gently. Once he's reached the pavement, firefighters on the ground rush over to him to get him away from the burning building.

One by one, I get all of them out. The daughter is next, followed by the older son, then the mama, then grandma, then finally the father. Once I'm sure the apartment is clear, I head to the next one.

There's an old Jewish couple in the next apartment that can't reach the fire escape. I swing them easily over to the ladder and help them down.

After that, there's an Indian man that I lower down to the street, along with his incredibly noisy parrot that tries to bite my hand off when I grab for it. Freaking ingrate bird.

Finally, there's a group of seven or eight kids holed up in one apartment--I'm guessing this building's equivalent of a day care--that I help down with a big solid net of webbing that they use like a slide.

With the fourth floor cleared, I make my way through the smoke and the fire up to the fifth floor. I only hear one voice calling from a door at the end of the hall.

"Spider-Man....." it calls weakly. "Spider-Man....over here....."

"Hang on, I'm coming!" I say as I charge my way through the burning hallway.

I reach for the doorknob, and open the--

*KA-BOOOOOOM!*







I tumble head over heels back down the hall, rocked by the explosive blast.

"Honestly, you really do make it too easy," the voice says, and even in the unbelievable heat of the fire, my blood goes cold when I hear it.

Oh God, not now. Not him. I'm not ready.

"It's good to see you again, Peter," the Green Goblin says as he steps through the doorway, the flames licking at his sides making him look appropriately demonic. "I think it's time for your next test. HnnnhnnnhnnnheeeheeheeehehehaahahaHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHA HAHAAAAA!!!!!"

.....and I was having such a nice day, too.

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Old 06-10-2011, 11:48 PM   #61
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Why am I just standing here? All I have to do is just walk right in and see her. You would think I would have been more nerves when I had to fight her when she was in her wild animal state of mind. I have to pull myself together I’m not the same boy I was when she first met me. I’ve change, I’ve grown and its time I act like it.

I extend my hand out to the door handle and it begins to shake. I pull my hand back and ball my fist to get myself under control. There is no reason for me to be acting like this. Your not a kid anymore Calvin so stop acting like one. Then as if I took a turn for the better of thing I reach back again for the handle and this time my hand is steady. As I slowly open the door I see her sitting down on a chair by the window. As I begin to walk towards her she turns to me.

“You know when I was told it was you who brought me back by yourself I didn’t believe them. I thought to myself there is no way the same Calvin that I used to train was able to bring me back single handedly. But now that I see you here I still can’t believe it. You must have really grown into some kind of person.”

It has been so long since I heard her voice. Still nice as ever well when she wants it to be.

“I’ve been through a lot the last couple of months. You and everyone else always used to tell me that with the right training and power set I could be one of the most powerful mutants around. I’m just trying to live up to the name.” I say with a smile on my face.

“Well then I guess I shouldn’t be to surprise that you were able to bring me back then. There is no telling what powers you have obtained since we last saw each other.”

I then walk to Sara’s side and rest my hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry you will have plenty of time to see me in action.”

“What do you mean?” She asks with a puzzled look on her face.

“I need you by my side. I have been ordered to put a team together and I need you as my second in command. With your skills and experience I know what ever team I put together you can train us to fight as one.”

She then looks away from me and faces the window. By her actions it almost seems as though she doesn’t want to join me. I have to admit this was not the reaction I was thinking of.

“Calvin I wouldn’t be any good to you. There is no telling if I will go back to that wild state of mine. You will be better off without me.”

Maybe it was a little to soon to bring this up to her. I should have probably waited but what’s done is done.

“Sara normally in this situation I would tell you that you don’t have nothing to worry about and I’ll make sure that wont happen and other things to reinsure you I’ll be there. But I’m not going to do that. Someone once told me that no matter what you say or do for a person it doesn’t matter unless they are willing to get pass their own ****. So that’s what I’m going to do. I’m give you time to move pass this and if or when you do if you want to join me you are more than welcome to.” I tell her as I turn around and take my leave.

As I get to the door she stops me. “Calvin, the person who told you that did he also give you that necklace? It has a familiar scent.”

I look down at the necklace and grab it and think back to how I received it.

“The person didn’t give this to me I took it. He did what he had to do and then he left. A part of me always knew that one day he was going to leave so before he did I took this necklace from his belongings. Reason why I wear it is because it’s a constant reminder for me to never leave a man behind. Because that’s what he did to me.”

With nothing else to say I walk through the door and close it behind me.

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Old 06-11-2011, 01:16 PM   #62
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Santiago de Cali, Colombia

Miguel Castillo sat in the upper deck of the empty stadium, watching the scene below with indifference. A matador danced around the arena floor, dodging the charging bull with his colorful cape.

"Senor," a voice called from the side. Castillo turned to the two men. Beside his guard was a black man in a suit and tie. Castillo waved the man over. The guard stood back and waited while the man took a seat next to Castillo.

"A month ago, I send my men to New York," Castillo started. "I found out a week ago that they are all dead, the money Silvermane owed me is gone, and he is dead. Now a man from New York comes to see me.
I have to wonder what exactly this is about, and why he does not think to come with my money."

"I offer no money," the man said. "But I offer information instead. Silvermane is dead, but I speak for his replacement."

"Interesting...in this line of work, our replacements are often the cause of our problems. Does this replacement take responsibility for my problems?"

"No, sir. The people behind the robbery and the death of your men are not part of our profession. They wear masks and costumes."

"Ah, I have heard of such things going on in America. Idealists who stylize themselves as heroes. You say they are responsible?"

"Yes. They call themselves devils."

"And why should I believe you?"

"Because my boss is very interested in doing business with you, Mister Castillo. He wants to use this as a show of good faith. We will bring you the people who stole from you. From there, you can do as you see fit."

"No," Castillo said after several moments silence. "The money is important, but it's my men that matter most. They were like family. I have someone I can send after them. All you need to do is tell me where I can find them. The rest, will be up to me and my people."

The two men turned their attention to the bottom of the arena as a painful howl echoed through the empty stadium. The bull was lying on its back, blood pouring from its side. The matador stood over the body, triumphant in victory.

"Well done, Juan," Castillo called out. "The bulls seem like hardly a challenge for such a fierce matador as yourself. I wonder....how would you like to swap one set of horns for another?"


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Old 06-11-2011, 09:53 PM   #63
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The Baxter Building

General Lumpkin goes over the details of the operation with us in the conference room.

"Captain Raye and I will be monitoring the operation from afar. Phase one involves making contact with the SHIELD operative inside Madripoor. That'll be up to Doctors Richards and Storm. Once you've made contact, the three of you will make your way to the Worldly Palace Apartments. In the penthouse is our main target. Doctor Wo Xiu. He was in charge of the bioengineering project and the person who is to know the most about the Skrull presence here on Earth. He may very well be a Skrull...hell there may be hundreds of them on that island. But we have to start somewhere, and it's with him."

"So what do Ben and I do during all this?"

"You and Major Grimm will be ten miles off the coast in a seaplane with ten armed Air Force personnel. Once the SHIELD operative and our doctors are in position, you will fly to the rendezvous point at the docks outside the apartment complex. Your team will rendezvous with them just below the penthouse floor. You will all take Xiu together as one team and take him alive. This is going to be a black op, so if anyone is caught then the US will disavow any knowledge."

"So when exactly do we start?"

"I believe our SHIELD man is en route to Madripoor right now, which means you two need to leave. We've provided you with a cover story and fake passports. You'll be newlyweds on your honeymoon."

"Well, this does kind of sound better than our original honeymoon."

"Yeah, hunting aliens is a big step up from shifting through nuclear fallout any day."

"What can I say? I'm a romantic like that."

"Well, all that remains is to get going. Oh, and one more thing. Your contact with SHIELD?"

Lumpkin tells us who we'll met in Madripoor and my jaw falls open.

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Old 06-14-2011, 12:47 AM   #64
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0



The ice clinks in my glass as I twirl the amber whiskey around. I can't keep my mind off the conversation I had with Millie Collins. I mean I knew HAMMER was sneaky...but to hire someone that looks that good with clothes on is reaching damn near evil. I mean Christ, I can't even fantasize about the girl anymore.

**********
Two weeks earlier


Millie and I step through a threshold in the bar into a darkened room. She flicks on a light and reveals a table and two chairs. The room has no windows and the only door is the one we walked through.

"Geez, what the hell are you gonna do? Pop me and leave me for the Mexican janitor?" I comment as I take the seat closest to the door.

"Relax, we're just here to talk."

"In such a romantic setting?" I respond with a sly smile. "Could have fooled me."

"Do you take anything seriously?" she responds with a sigh. Before I can respond with the first thing that comes to the top of my head, she quickly continues, "Let's get down to business. We want you to be a mole inside the Avengers."

"And I wanted to be in a threesome with Scarlett Johansson and Mila Kunis but Scarlett said no. I mean come on, is that the best your new boss has?"

"This is a one time deal, Tony," Millie responds angrily. "We're going to come after you. We're going to take you down. If you agree to do this, we'll let you walk when the rest of the freaks go down."

The audacity of these people. I'd say I can't believe it, but I totally do, "You guys are amazingly subtle. You know that. I mean really, you think I'm going to go for that. You asked if I took anything seriously, and the answer is yes. I take protecting the people from goons like HAMMER and the rest of the scum seriously. And the best way I can do that is with the Avengers. Go tell that to your boss."

Without another word, I turn and leave.

**********

Now

I finish my drink and head for the basement, passing Jarvis on the way, "Jarvis, boot up the systems."

"Going for another late night fly-by, sir?" the robot replies. "I do wish you wouldn't drink before donning the suit. You're reckless as is."

"I had one," I respond as I step into the platform and my suit begins to assemble itself around me. "Besides, this is important. I need to talk to Cap."

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Old 06-21-2011, 04:39 AM   #65
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"Oooooh Brucie!" It called out for Banner, searching for the puny pathetic human. That’s how he viewed Banner, Banner and the rest of humanity. Puny, worthless, cockroaches that need to be annihilated, along with everything else.

Bruce ran as fast as he could, he couldn’t find Hulk, and he couldn’t find Grey. It was as if they had vanished into thin air. The only thing he could find was it. The Devil. It was large, reptilian, it look was like some cross between a rhesus macaque and a bearded dragon lizard. Spines lined its head, all the way down its back, starting in two rows on the brow ridges, and then going back down the neck, converging into a single trail at the base of the enormous tail where it continues to the end. The thing itself was of absolutely monstrous size. Towering over even the Hulk. It was a greenish brown hue, textured with the bumped, spiked, scaled skin of a reptile, with teeth the smallest of which were the size of a machete.

"Come on Bruce, cant run forever!" It gripped the ruins of a roof, the stoned crumbled in the vice like hold. "And you can’t run from yourself!" With that he jerked his arm away, tearing the side of the structure with it.

And there he was, little Bruce David Banner, huddled alone in the shadow of the Devil.

Bruce woke up screaming, sweaty, shaking. They were getting worse, the nightmares. But were they nightmares? Or something else? Was it really that close to getting him? What would have happened had he not awoken? Would he have ever woken up? He felt a pain in his right side, like a cracked rib he’d felt the pain before, but this couldn’t be it. Unless. No, no no no no no no no no no no no, that couldn’t be. If it was…oh this was bad. He rushed for the bag by the door. Going through what things he had in there it dawned on him that the communication devise to Coulson had been left in the cabin. This meant HAMMER likely had it in their possession. Now that was just going to be a mess. Not that Bruce knew SHIELD’s moles would be sure to get the device back to them.
The pain came in a new wave, washing over him as he felt something creep over him. He rushed into the bathroom, thinking perhaps if he could knock himself out on some kind of drug in the medicine cabinet he might be able to postpone the transformation.


"Oh Brucey." He heard it as if he were back in that darkness. In his mind alone with the thing. "Mmmmhahahhaha"


Bruce took a shaky hand, opening the medicine cabinet before snatching the bottle from the shelf he found there. He emptied a handful of the pills into his hand and threw him into his mouth, swallowing as many as he could, still fighting the monster trying to claw its way to the surface. He stumbled his way out of the bathroom, and then down the hall. The pills hadn’t quiet kicked in yet. Bruce felt as though he was burning up inside. He reached the front room of the cabin, staggered and tripped over himself. Smacking his head on an end table at the end of the couch. That knocked him out cold.

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Old 06-26-2011, 10:38 PM   #66
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“Th-that’ll be twent—ten dollars. Ten dollarsh. Not twenty, s-sorry.”
*Hic*

The tourist reluctantly handed me a ten, took his airbrushed superhero shirt and walked off. Man. **** that guy. Giving me a weird look. Like I’m—like I’m some kinda ass****. **** you, guy. You’re the ass****. Not me. ****ing ass****.

*Hic*

“Sales are…are pretty good, huh?” I says before bringing the paper bag up to my bill and chugging that Grey Goose what gets me loose.

“I guess so…I mean, I think we would have made a lot more if, you know…you didn’t use half our profits to buy booze,” Lester said, pointing to the empty booze bottles in paper bags littered around the cart.

Man………………………….sh-shut up.”

*Gluglugluglug*

“Why don’t you hand me that ten so’s I can…I can get me a refill…old chum?”

“I think you’ve had enough bro. Besides, we’ll be losing money soon if you keep getting more.”

“Aw, c’mon! C’moooonnnn!!! Y-you expect me to be out here dealing with these ass****s all day angh—and be sober? What are you, retarded? That’s boring, man!”

“Maybe you should take a break for a minute, bro?”

Oh a break?! Okay, I’ll take a ****ing break! For a ****ing minute! Bro!”

I drop the paper bag onto the floor and the bottle inside explodes.

“And while I’m on break, you can go ahead and clean that **** up, arr-alright? Tough guy?”

“I wasn’t—“

I grunt and wave him away as I start walking away from the cart. What an ass****. I’m surrounded by ass****s. When I’m half a block away from the ass****, I realize something. I gotta piss like a racehorse.

Who came up with that, I wonder? Do racehorses pee a lot? Is like, that their specialty? Aside from racing? Peeing? Whatever. All I knows is, I gotta piss like a racehorse. I duck behind and alleyway and use a garbage can for cover, in case any cops or good Samaritans call me out. I almost fire away before realizing I’m wearing pants. Stupid ****ing pants. Stupid ****ing Disney.

I unzip it, and then whip it…...out.

A wave a warm relief washes over my tiny body as my mighty stream splashes against the brick wall.

CREEEEEK

I whip my head around. No cops. No curious bystanders. Must be some kinky homeless guy hiding somewhere. I look forward and carry on.

RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE

I whip my head around again. Nothing. Stray cat maybe? Eyes forward. Finish up and give it a good shake before packing up and zipping.

THUDTHUDTHUD

I try to look over my shoulder again. But halfway there, something slides over my head and everything goes black. I feel a pair of arms grab me by the legs and lift me up. I try to scream but another pair of hands closes over my bill.

****. Should not have taken that break.



I’m tossed onto something hard and flat. They unhand my bill but then immediately pin my arms down. Something pulls the sack off my head and before I know it I can see again. And it looks like I’m in some sort of…kitchen?

“What’s going on?! Where am I?!?”

I look around to take a gander at my captors…Asians. Asians everywhere.

They exchange glances. Look horrified. One of them is holding a meat cleaver inches away from my throat. I now realize why I’ve been brought here. And sober up real quick.

“SWEET ****ING CHRISTMAS, DON’T EAT ME, PLEASE!!”

“It talks!” one of them shouts.

“Yeah, I talk! And I’m wearing a shirt and pants and everything else you would typically attribute to a sentient being, now could you please let me go? Please?!?

The man with the meat cleaver says something in what I’m assuming is Chinese. Another one shouts at him. Another comes in to defend him. Before I know it, they’re all bickering with each other. I try to wriggle free, hoping the momentary distraction would have loosened their grip.

Nope.

Well, looks like this is it. I had a good run, I guess. I mean, this is kind of anti-climatic considering all the horrific **** I’ve been through. You’da thought I would have been killed by some demonic space dinosaur or some sentient, evil, super-intelligent black hole with a heroin addiction. But no. I’m going to be skewered, slow roasted, and served with scallions and some of those tiny pancake things. And that tasty sauce…..y’know, I could go for some Chinese right now…is there egg in egg rolls? I never taste any egg. Why are they called—oh, right, certain death. Yeah. That’s totally about to happen. Definitely gonna happen. I absolutely do not foresee any odd turn of events occurring within the next few moments that will totally change the course of this current situation.

Just then, a new group of Chinese men barged into the kitchen. They were very different from this lot—wearing jewelry, bearing scars, dressed in black coats. The cooks immediately let go of me and stiffened—almost as if standing at attention. They began trembling and sweating profusely. Two of the thuggy lookin’ guys stepped forward—one was bald, bulky, and had a scraggly, unshaven face. The other was short and slim and wore pink shades and a black suit. The small one mumbles something to the big one and then the big one starts talking.

<“Boss Liu would like to know why his usual lunch has not been prepared.”>

The cooks shot each other odd looks until one of them finally stepped forward.

<“W-we were just about to—“>

<“Boss Lui believes that it has been clearly established for some time that he is to have a dish of Peking duck prepared for him daily and served promptly at 3 PM. Do you know what time it is now?”>

<“I—we—“>

<“Three thrity-five.”>

<“W-we had run out! And w-we came across this strange—“>

<“Boss Liu believes for this insolence, he should collect your protection money early this month.”>

<“W-w-what?! How early?”>

<“Now.”>

<“But we do not have it yet!”>

<“Then Boss Liu believes you should be punished.”>

The big one immediately throws a right hook and takes out the chef. The thugs scatter about the kitchen and start trashing the place. They start wailing on the cooks, knocking ‘em left and right, breaking bones, kicking down shelves, destroying kitchen equipment. When all the cooks are out cold and the place thoroughly wrecked, they turn their attention towards me.

<“What the hell is that thing?”>

<“Is that a duck?”>

“OH GOD, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME! I’LL DO ANYTHING, I SWEAR!!”

“Holy ****, it talks!”

“Yes!!! Yes, I talk! I’m a living, breathing, talking, being!”

“What…what shall we do with it, Boss Liu?”

The one in pink shades mumbles something to the big one.

“Boss Liu believes that if this creature can see, talk, and think, then it is a witness. And he does not like witnesses.”

The others nod and grab some of the many knives now lying around and begin closing in on me.

“NOOOO!! NOOOO!!! PLEASE!!! I WON’ T TALK! I SWEAR! I WON’T TELL A SOUL! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU GUYS WANT ME TO, PLEASE DON’T KILL MEEE!!!!”

They continue to close in. One of them grabs my head and pulls it back, exposing my throat to all them knives. Well, it looks like this it. For real this time. No way out. At all.

“WAIT!!!”

The thugs freeze and look back at tiny and cue ball.

“Boss Liu has changed his mind. Given the unique nature of this witness, he may be of some use to us.”

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Old 06-27-2011, 11:03 AM   #67
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DeWolff and Daz stepped up to the podium as Muldoon stepped back and put his arms around their shoulders. “Beside me are the news faces of the NYPD. Good officers unafraid of doing what it takes to get the job done, people who can't be corrupted or buckle to pressure. Under my watch, this will come to pass.”

The cameras flashed as the commissioner gripped the two cops shoulders and smiled as wide as he could.

Created by Byrd Man and Harlekin

Third Avenue. Plug Uglies.

“Quite a show, detective,” Sergeant Tork said to his companion over a large pitcher of ice cold beer. Seated across from him was Jean DeWolff, who was rubbing her bare feet with a grimace. Her scuffed heels lay on the floor around her seat.
“It wasn’t exactly a feminist policewoman’s dream,” she replied as she took a large sip from her own glass of beer. “Can’t imagine you enjoyed it,” she said to Daz, sitting next to her.
“You get used to it,” he shrugged, “when you’re the only handsome black man on the force.”
He grinned and the others laughed. Vin Gonzales raised his glass and the four cheered, downing their drinks immediately. Wiping the foam from his moustache, Tork got out his wallet and stood up.
“This one’s on me,” he said, turning to go the bar.
“I’ll help you there, boss,” Daz said as he took the empty glasses with them.
“Feels like a month, I was standing there so long,” DeWolff remarked to Gonzales.

“That’s four more, Joe. In your special glasses, please.” The bartender nodded, taking the large glasses from Daz. Emblazoned on their side was the logo of the NYPD.
“Heck of a day,” Tork said to Daz, standing next to him.
“There all like this,” Daz replied, “hope you told the new meat that.”
“I think they know....so what do you think of 'em?”
Daz shrugged as he looked back at their table. “DeWolff seems like she has game.”
“I'd say so. That big ass gun shoved right in that creep's face? She went from a housecat to Dirty Harriet.”
“Yeah, well, I think the jury's still out on Gonzales.”
“Kid has a hell of a jab,” Tork said, looking to Gonzales, who was acting out his punches to a waitress. DeWolff was rolling his eyes.
“Gonna need more. Besides, they ain't Eddie and Jinx.”
“And they'll never be,” Tork said. “They're not their replacements, they're just our new partners. They're not gonna replace them because nobody can.”
The bartender served four new beers and the two stared at them momentarily, before Tork burst out in a laugh.
“What?” Daz asked.
“You remember that time we were in the Bronx, running down that snitch?”
“Yeah,” Daz said with a smile. “He bolted and we split up, you and I in the Chevy and Eddie and Jinx on foot.”
“And we lose this guy in Co-Op City,” Tork laughed harder as he told more of the story. “And then, we get a call from Eddie's cell. They got the guy in custody.”
“Yeah, and then they come riding up on a tandem bike.”
“Yeah... one of- one of those three person jobs. I don't know how... I don't know how they got it,” Tork said, trying to talk through his laughter. “But they managed to chase him down on this thing.”
“Eddie's riding in the front, Jinx in the back and the damn snitch in the middle, handcuffs on and peddling his ass off.”
The two men laughed hard at the mental image of their former partners. Tork wiped the tears out of his eyes and took a deep breath.
“To Eddie and Jinx,” he said as he raised a glass and Daz followed suit. “Gone, but not forgotten.”
The two drank the beer in a single gulp.
“Uh, Joe, two more?”

“What do you think that’s all about?” Gonzales asked DeWolff as he pointed to Tork and Daz at the bar.
“Probably talking about you,” she replied.
“Or you.”
DeWolff nodded, sinking back into her chair.
“What do you think they’re saying?” Gonzales asked again, now leaning across the table.
“If I’m going to guess, it’s that we’re the best damn partners they ever had.” DeWolff took a pack of cigarettes from her purse and lighted one.
“Tork likes you,” Gonzales said with a grin.
“A lot of superior officers like me,” DeWolff replied, blowing smoke Gonzales’ way. He sunk back into his chair.
“Still pissed about your pappy McLean sticking a knife in our back? Afraid Tork’ll do you like that one day? Never trust a man with a rank higher than yours and *&^% over everyone that has a stripe less, that’s what they taught me at the Academy.”
DeWolff shook her head. “Tork’s a good cop. So’s McLean. They just don’t like to see it in each other.”
“McLean still screwed us over.”
“That he did,” DeWolff replied, thoughtfully. The two were silent for a moment.
“You think we got a future here?” Gonzales finally asked.
“As long as they’ll have you,” she replied.
“Not much in the way of promotion.” Gonzales played with one of the coasters on the table.
DeWolff frowned. “Weren’t you just ranting about stripes?”
“Yeah,” Gonzales said as he pointed to his jacket hanging over the chair. “I ain’t got any. That’s what gets you *&^%ed over.”

“Don’t need stripes when you’re with us, gup,” Tork said as he and Daz came back to the table, dropping the four beers in front of them.
“With us, all you need to worry about is whether your gun’s loaded, if you can dodge a blow – because you don’t want to mess with that pretty face – and if your knuckles are scuffed, because that means you didn’t honest day’s work. All a good cop can ask for.”
“And that he’s got Chevy full of gas,” Daz added.

At that, they raised their glasses.

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Old 06-27-2011, 06:25 PM   #68
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0

oopes



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Old 06-27-2011, 07:23 PM   #69
Carnage27
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0



I'm soaring through the air when Jarvis's voice comes through over the AC/DC I have blaring in my helmet. I sigh to myself before answering him, making it seem like I didn't hear. Flying is one of those times that I just love. It gives me time to be by myself. Gives me time to think. Yes, even billionaire playboys time to themselves every now and again.

After Jarvis's second call of, "Sir, I have some news for you!" I answer, "Yes, Jarvis what is it? I sure hope it's important."

"I believe it is, sir," the AI's voice responds. I always feel like he treats me like a child. Maybe I should get rid of the pretentious British tone. "I know you are interested in meeting with Captain America, but we have just received word that one of our plants has been attacked."

"Attacked?" my panicked mind blurts out. "Like what kinda...how attacked?"

"Very astute question, sir." Ass. "At this point I have no further information. Ms. Potts called me and told me to inform you. It is the plant located in Silicon Valley."

Silicon Valley. How the hell would anyone know to attack that place. I had set the plant up as an advanced research division for further Iron Man upgrades. But no one knows about it other than me and the researchers that work the plant. The outside looks like a simple office building, and the plant and laboratories are hidden deep underground.

"Call Pepper back. Tell her I'm on my way."

**********

I land with a thud next to the smoldering crater that was once my advanced Iron man research center. This wasn't an attack, it was a complete and utter destruction. It was a disintegration. This was meant to send a message. Whatever that message may be, I have no idea, but this wasn't a simple terrorist attack. My mind quickly shifts to HAMMER, but something like this wouldn't help their cause at all.

After a few moments, Pepper approaches me, and I flip my faceplate up, "What the hell did this, Pepper? And how the hell did they know this was here?"

"Come here, I'll show you," she motions for me to follow her into a tent that the cleanup and security crew has erected on the outside of the crater. Once inside, we approach a computer, "I had security comb the camera feeds from right before the explosion. We found where it came from, but it just raises more questions than answers."

The images begin flashing on the scream. One of the workers enters the ark reactor room of the plant with some sort of box underneath his arm. He places it on the rail of the reactor observation deck, and quickly flings the top open. In an instant, a white hot flash erupts from the box. The view then shows the other cameras' views at the same time, and each is engulfed in the same explosion.

"I've had people analyzing the video," Pepper says, obviously exacerbated. "So far they say the readings are unlike any kind of combustion."

"So what the hell-" I'm cut off by a security officer.

"Mr. Stark!" he yells as he enters, holding some sort of stone. As he runs closer to me and the computer, a similar, but smaller flash is emitted, and the equipment, including my suit, goes haywire for an instant. After a pause, he continues, "We found this in the crater..."

"Get it wrapped up. Now," I respond angrily. "Whatever it is, it reacts when exposed to technology. I can't have it shutting me down. You," I say turning back to Pepper, who gives me a dirty look for calling her "you". "Sorry. Crisis mode. I need you to get checking on that employees background. Get Jarvis the results."

"What are you gonna do?" Pepper asks beside me.

"Find out whatever the hell it is," I respond after my faceplate closes.

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Old 06-27-2011, 09:31 PM   #70
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0

Armadillo
Round two


The day starts off like any other, damned alarm clock goes off makin' my head hurt. I get ready for the day, that takes no time, seen how there is no runin' water. Head down stairs to get a paper. Stark stocks risin', no s***. Fantastic Four, Dr.Doom, politics, bulls***. More b.s. in New York, and a f****** duck-man freak selling hero tee's on the streets, f****** genius
. Makes me wish I thought that c*** up, hell if a freak like that can do it I sure as hell can. No fallow up story damn. Makes sense me bein' as monster-ish as I am you couldn't pay me 'nuff to talk to that freak. I start my walk to the check cash place. Haven't been there in awhile. Cab is out of my price range until I cash my check. I walk in the the place the A/C is crankin', it feel so God damn good.

"Hey Lucy, how you been?"
"Oh, hey long time no see. I'm Good, where you been."
"Started a saving account at the bank."
She is not stupid, fat, but not stupid, she see through that lie.
"Well it's good to see you are back. Just cashing you out today"
I Nod yes and she hands me my money.
"You have a good one."
"You too."

The damn money is gone in no time. After payin' my far over due rent and my also late utilities. I have 'nuff money to get food for the week from the dollar menu. Bad news is I end up still spending more then normal to feed my big monstrous a**, good news is I have 'nuff to swing by Bobby's Liquor Store to grab some vodka, and a cab ride home.

I get to Bobby's, shame he is not here just his c*** wife.
"Hey MooMoo, I'll take my normal."
I call her MooMoo 'cus she is a heifer, and truth is I forgot her name and care so little to talk to her to find out what it is.
"Calling me MooMoo, your a** is bigger then me."
"Not by choice, just get me my bottle."
"In a rush to drink you piss poor life away."
God I hate this b****.
"God woman, how did a good guy like Bobby
end up with a she-devil like you."
"You are mad because you aren't getting any, $17.85 fat man"
"Here's $20 give the change to Bobby, tell him it is the start of a divorce fund to leave your dumb a**."
I grab my handle and walkaway before more s*** comes from her mouth. I can feel that middle finger of hers burnin' into the back of my head. I use the pay phone outside to call a cab.

Cab driver drops me off. I stiff him on the tip, and tell him to f*** off, my size and tone do work. I go up to my s*** hole apartment and check to see if the gas and water are runnin', they both are. I take the longest shower of my life, I can feel the s*** smell run off me. Once my showers done I pour me a nice tall drink and wait for the phone to ring. I know all to damn well how this s*** happens, win a fight in the first round like I did, there is a follow up phone call the next day with another scheduled fight. The phone rings. It feels f****** good to have work.

*The week passes quick as Armadillo prepares himself both mentally and physically for this weekends fight. Saturday arrives.

"Hey Tudo."
"Yo Armadillo, I hear you are fighting the beast tonight, yeah?"
"Yeah, man. You betting tonight?"
"Of course after what happens last week how can i not, that kind of victory carries over you know."
"Yeah hope so for the both of us."
"Kick some a** man."
He bows and I nod. That zipper head use to fight here in his weight class and was on a roll, but I guess Rey needed new a bouncer, for some reason someone quit, so the Jap landed the spot. Good for him though it's teaching that Charlie English. I walk pass the crowded lobby to the lockers. Seem a lot of people were impressed, bets seem to be leaning my way. I get to the same God forbidden locker room, only with a different number. I haven't seen Rey yet but I know he'll be pokin' his little greedy face in here.
I sit there and go over my routine in my head, and speak of the devil he shall appear.

"Hey, Buddy. You Ready for tonight?"
"I'm here right?"
"Right on. I hear bets are in your favor. You going to give Bi-Beast hell tonight or what champ."
"Course, and in better times Rey."
"Well I hope you bring it, I'm cheering for you man."
He walks away with that s*** eattin' smirk of his. I hate his pre-fight talkin's, like he is a f****** life couch or something. F****** guy could give two s***s if I lose, hell if not for the cop havin' to pop in here he could careless if I died. Bastard just wants his money and more spectators.

"Here We are again Pat brake down what we have in store for tonight."
"Yes Mac , first we have Bi-Beast coming off of some major wins, he is on the right path to that belt. However across from him stand a true veteran in the UFL, the one time champ, Armadillo. Everyone knows what he can do. He took down T.Stone in the first round last week and that kind of thunder usually keeps on rolling."
"Thanks for that brake down Pat. Earlier this week I got to talk to Bi-Beast, to find out why a A.I. like himself would even be signing up to fight in the UFL. First i would like to say Bi-Beast has two separate brains living in the same body, one I like to call the "reasonable" brain and the other the "Insane" brain. The "reasonable" brain was looking for something a little more human to do, like getting a job, making money, the simple life. However the "insane" brain although being talked into that, talked the "reasonable" brain into fighting."
"Good stuff Mac, but I have to ask why is one "insane" as you call it?"
"The "reasonable" brain talk to me, as where the other keep talking about ripping my still beating heart out of my chest and eating it."
"Fair enough and yet very disturbing, however first round is about to start."

*Soon enough, Armadillo is facing his opponent of the night, as the crowd scream amplified as the introductions come to and end, and the bell rings for the fight to commence.

"Round one is on the way, both men circling the other finding their range and any kind of flaw in the others step. Wow!, Bi-Beast with a grazing jab, however Armadillo comes back with a combo of punches!"
"Not to many landed solid though Pat."
"No, though they showed Bi-Beast to watch out for the counter punches. Armadillo landing a hard straight but backs off."
"Why is that Pat?"
"Maybe he doesn't want to get stuck in the same counter position he just had Bi-Beast in. Look out! Bi-Beast lands a straight that has Armadillo back peddling. Bi-Beast Landing a perfect combo on Armadillo."
"Armadillo is up on that cage and looks to be stuck there."
"Yeah Mac this can be coming to a end sooner than we all though. Oh! maybe not huge life saving upper cut from Armadillo! Creates space for himself to breath and gain some composure."
"Ten second left in the first round, and now they are trading blows!"

*The bell ring bringing an end to the first round.

"Wow Pat! What a first round."
"Absolutely. Both men giving their all and making the best of opportunities."
"How Would you call it Pat?"
"Bi-Beast by far. He had Armadillo on the fence their for awhile and unleashed bombs"
"Well that is what the UFL is all about. We want to take this time to..."

*The broadcasters go on with the sponsorships and commentary as the second round bell rings.

"Second round Mac and we are in for a good one. Armadillo out the gates fast misses his target and catches a big left hook. Armadillo shakes it off, but Bi-Beast now on the offensive! Combos landing once more perfectly placed! Armadillo shoots for the take down, but it's avoided by Bi-Beast."
"Wow, Bi-Beast is keeping great composure in there, making Armadillo look like a rookie."
"Yeah Mac, but at any given moment Armadillo can always stick him with one of his heavy hand and turn the tides. Bi-Beast is now working the jabs and shoot for a take down. Armadillo is in a bad place."
"Lucky him there is a few second on the clock to survive."
"Bi-Beast landing down those hooks!"

*the bell ring ending the second round

"Saved by the bell Pat?"
"Absolutely, Armadillo right now is thinking to him self Bi-Beast is stopping me at every turn and is bringing the hurt."
"Judging on Armadillos face right now, that is the truth."
"I think Armadillo has to slow it down, find his range and wait for Bi-Beast to make his move first, Mac."

*Third round bell sounds.

"Ok, round three here we go. Bi-Beast out the gates fast this time taking down Armadillo."
"At less this time Armadillo is covering up."
"Ooow, Armadillo turns and gives his back right away. Bi_Beast slips in a rear naked choke! This looks bad for Armadillo."
"Look at that Pat!"
"Oh my god Armadillo is lifting Bi-Beast on his back and throws him over his shoulder!, and how had Bi-Beast in a deep rear naked! The crowd in going crazy! This could be it! Bi-Beast is passing out. And it is all over!, Armadillo pulls off a impressive come back win in the third round."
"What Amazing strength and heart Armadillo showed there at the end of the fight there."
"That is right Mac, that just goes to show you you can't keep a good dog down."


To Be Continued.

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Old 06-28-2011, 09:17 PM   #71
Andy C.
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0


Quote:
"This is my new workplace, the R&D Labs of OsCorp! Here I'll be helping some of the smartest people in the world make--"

"Excuse me, Mister Parker? Is that a video camera? I'm afraid that's restricted here."

"Oh! Yes, sorry, Mister Osborn. I've been shooting videos for my baby, so he can see everything that went into the months before he was born. Sort of a 'behind the scenes of yourself' kind of thing. It, um, slipped my mind that this was a restricted area."

"Ah, that's right, you told me your wife was expecting. Congratulations, Richard. My Elizabeth gave birth to a son just a month ago. Unfortunately, this is a private lab, so I'm going to have to ask you to turn the camera off."

"Of course, sir. Before I do, um, anything you'd like to say to little Peter? Some words of wisdom from a captain of industry?"

"Hmm. If you want to go far, you have to look at what needs to be done, and do it. Don't get discouraged if it's hard, don't get distracted by other things that get in your way, and most importantly, don't let other people pressure you out of your goals. Grace under fire, that's what it takes. Grace under fire."

Y'know how in every cartoon or bad comedy, there's always that one moment where the main character says "How could this day get any worse?" right before it invariably gets way, way worse? I've kind of got that going on right now.

See, there I was, swinging around the city on my usual superhero patrol, minding my own business (as much as you can be said to be 'minding your own business' when looking for crime to fight), when I see a tenement building on fire. I do what I can to help the evacuation-- some people scream and kick at me because they read the Daily Bugle I'm guessing, some people go catatonic from the fear or pass out, some even manage to cooperate. Everything is going so well....

....and then the Green Goblin shows up.

"Grace under fire, my boy, that's the name of the game," he says with the tone of a game show host, strolling casually as if he didn't even realize there was a building burning down all around us. "There are still seven people left inside this building, and you've got, oh, about three minutes to get them out before the Pumpkin-Bombs I've placed in the structural supports blow this whole place to kingdom come!"

"Yeah? What's the catch?" I ask, sinking into a fighting stance, but not particularly enthusiastic about getting into another fight with the guy who almost beat me to death last time we met.

"Just one," he says, raising a single finger. "You have to get past one rather nasty obstacle in order to get to them."

"And that obstacle is.....?"

"ME!"
he shouts gleefully, before lunging at me with his clawed gloves. I guess I kind of walked right into that one.

I try to leap over the charge and tag him in the back of the head with a kick, but as I sail over, he spins and digs his claws into my calf. I yelp in pain, but manage to recover and tumble forward. Rising back to my feet, I wince from the cut, but fortunately it's not too bad to support my weight.

Before I can turn to face him, a sharp pain shoots through my back when the Goblin's boot plants hard into my lower spine. What with the constant danger-signals I'm getting from the fire, my Spider-Senses can't really register his attacks in time.

So now I'm trapped in a fiery building with innocent people inside, I have to get past a crazed super-powered lunatic who nearly killed me before, and now I don't even have my early warning senses to give me an advantage. This just keeps getting better and better.

I spin around just in time to see the Goblin lunging at me again, claws at the ready. This time I manage to juke to one side, then kick him hard in the ribs as he passes. This isn't so much to hurt him (though I'm glad to see him wince when my foot connects), but to shove him into the wall, where I web up his legs and an arm, pinning him in place. I don't think it'll stop him, but it should buy me some time.

I kick down the nearest door and find a woman who looks to be in her early thirties, holding her daughter, who can't be more than seven. They're huddled in the corner, ducking beneath the haze of smoke as their carpet smolders and burns, the wallpaper of the apartment blackened as flames climb up from the floors below.

"I'm gonna get you guys out of here, okay?" I say to them, my voice not particularly reassuring as I'm still scared out of my wits about the Goblin. The mother gives me that "oh no, not one of you super-types" look that tells me she probably reads the Daily Bugle, while the daughter nods wide-eyed.

I glance behind me and can see that the Goblin has already started cutting himself free.

"Okay, folks, no time for the stairs," I say as I pop off a glob of impact-web to break the nearest window, "so we're going to take the express elevator down. Hold on tight!"

With that, I yank them over to me with lines of webbing, taking one in each arm, then leap out the window, twisting my body so I take the worst of the damage from the busted frame and broken glass. As we pass through the window, I tag it with a line of web and pull on it, stretching it out as we fall.

We plummet towards the sidewalk below, and the web-line goes tighter and tighter, slowing down our fall like a bungee cord. The line goes taut just a foot or two off the ground, and I let them land safely before it snaps back like a rubber band, shooting me right back up to the top floor, where I grab onto the window pane to avoid going flying off, then pull myself back in.

The smoke is getting really thick now, the hallway of the building nearly an impenetrable black, broken up by the eerie red glow of the fire. I hear a baby screaming a few doors down, and start making my way towards it....

....only to run into the Goblin's fist, which slams into my left cheekbone and has me seeing stars as I tumble down onto the floor.

"Two down, five to go, and two minutes left," he taunts. "You're going to have to try harder than that."

"Well, to be fair," I say ducking low to breathe in some non-smoky air as I avoid a swiping backhand, "I'd probably be making better time if I didn't have some chartreuse-colored douche getting in my way."

"Is that so?"
he sneers, punching downward at me as I skitter out of the way. "And what do you propose to do about it?"

"Probably a little something like this!"
I say as I catch him in the eyes with a glob of webbing. I stagger him back with a pair of impact-webs that catch him in the hip and shoulder, then charge forward and land a massive kick to his chest, sending him tumbling back into the smoke.

That gives me enough of a reprieve from the fighting to crash through a few doors and find the screaming baby, still in his crib, parents passed out beside it probably from smoke inhalation. There are some loud pops and cracks and shudders as the fire continues to eat away at the structure of the building. Not to mention I've only got about ninety seconds left before those bombs go off.

I pick up a chest of drawers and hurl them as hard as I can at the window, smashing a hole large enough to fit the baby's crib through. I quickly but carefully push the crib through and lower the whole thing down, as slowly as I dare, then do the same with the unconscious parents.

Just as I'm done lowering the father, I hear a snarl from behind, as the Goblin's caught up with me. He charges forward, and this time I grab onto his arms and roll onto my back, then plant my foot into his abdomen and throw him out the window.

He tumbles through the open air, but before I can snag him with a web-line, his GLIDER flying platform swoops out of the sky to catch him.

"Two people and one minute to go, Spider-Man!"
he cackles. "You'd better hurry!"

With that, he flings a Pumpkin Bomb into the room, and I dive for the door, just barely making it back into the flame-engulfed hallway before the room is obliterated by the blast.

I scramble through the halls, ducking into one apartment after another, knocking down doors and crashing through walls, flames licking at me and smoke filling up my lungs, the Goblin right behind me on his GLIDER wing, cackling and giggling as he lobs bombs that pulverize the entire room in which they land.

It's hard to see and there are so many twists and turns, but I can't slow down or he'll kill me. It's like navigating a maze with a rabid dog right behind you.

Finally, I dive out of the Goblin's path and roll into a room where an old man and what I'm assuming is his grandson are kneeling by a bed, apparently praying. I grab both of them and dive headlong through the window.

We're just barely clear of the window-panes when the bombs go off.



*KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!*

The building behind is crumples into rubble, and we're now tumbling through the air towards a grisly end on the concrete below.

I fire a web line to the building across the street and swing down to the sidewalk, every muscle in my body aching, my costume signed and burned, but relieved that I managed to get everyone out in time. And hey, there are actually people cheering for me-- Mr. Jameson would haaate that.

Unfortunately, the celebration doesn't last long, as out of the rising column of smoke and fire, the Green Goblin swoops through the air on his GLIDER, banking down and towards me.

"As annoyed as I am to say it, it seems you've passed your second test," he says, the usual grin on his face soured a little bit. "And for your hard work, here's a hero's reward!"

He lobs a Pumpkin Bomb, not at me.....but at the crowd of people I just saved.

"NO!" I shout, leaping towards the bomb and yanking it out of the air with a web-line, then pulling it towards me so I land on top of the bomb before it goes off.

I knew one of these days I was probably going to get killed doing this sort of thing. I just didn't think it would be so soon.......







.........only the bomb doesn't go off.

At all.

".....a dud," I say with annoyance as I look at the unarmed bomb.

The Green Goblin hovers over me, laughing hysterically, eventually having to gasp for breath from laughing so hard.

"I knew there was a reason I picked you for my hobby, Spider! You really are just too much fun!" he says before he flies away, still cackling like the maniac he is.

"Spider-Man!" one of the EMTs calls out and rushes over to me. "Are you hurt?"

"I'll be fine," I say through gritted teeth. "He's done worse to me before."

"Who was that?"

"I don't know," I say as I watch the contrails from his GLIDER fade into the sky, "but I'm really starting to dislike him."

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Old 06-28-2011, 10:31 PM   #72
Byrd Man
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0


Created by Byrd Man and Harlekin
East 51st Street
17th Precinct


"Are you alive or dead?" Officer Vin Gonzales asked, sitting behind his desk and leaning back in his chair.

"Dead," Officer Denzel "Daz" Pierce said, leaning against the office's lone file cabinet. "Twenty left."

"Were you a president?"

"No. Nineteen."

"Did you do anything significant?"

"Yes. Eighteen."

While Gonzales and Daz continued their game, Detective Jean DeWolff entered the room with files in her hands. She gave the two officers a slight glance before continuing to her desk and laying the files down. DeWolff sat down and began to look over the contents inside the folder.

"Were you a pro athlete?"

"Nope. Seventeen."

"An actor?"

"Nope. Sixteen."

"Listen up," Sergeant Tork said as he entered the room, a black man in a suit and tie behind him.

Daz's eyes lit up from behind his sunglasses.

"Damn. Downtown is in the house. Why you slumming down here, Kasper?"

Daz walked up and shook the man's hand.

"You know me Daz," the man said with a smirk. "I gotta be at the end of my rope to come see your ass."

"I bet," Tork said with a chuckle. "Let me introduce you to the new meat. The sulky young man over there is Officer Vin Gonzales and the one person in the room that's not dog&%$ ugly is Detective Jean DeWolff. Guys, this is Sergeant Kasper Cole. He used to run with Daz and I back in Narco."

"That was back before his head got too big to be seen with us," Daz said with a pat on Cole's back. "You get a set of stripes and a cushy job with CID Narco at headquarters, and it changes you. Where's the love, Kasper?"

"Yeah, I'm crying you a river, Daz," Cole said with an elbow into his ribs. "You all seem like you're doing well. Heard ya'll are kicking ass and taking names."

"We do alright," Tork said with a shrug. "The bad guys are getting locked up. The question is, what brings you here? I know you, Kasper, you don't play catch up until after you punch out."

"You always knew how to read me, Sarge. Yeah, Narco needs a little help from the 567."

"What is it?" DeWolff asked, pushing away the files on her desk.

"Anybody ever heard of the Crusaders Motorcycle Club?"

"Yeah," Gonzales said. "They're a bunch of redneck ass&%$# that operate out of Brooklyn, right?"

"Right you are," Cole said with a nod. "But they're more than that. They're a biker gang with chapters all across America and the world, the Brooklyn chapter is their home base. Aside from claiming that they are law-abiding citizens, they also happen to be a big time distributor of drugs and illegal guns. They ATF, DEA, and NYPD have been running a joint taskforce over the past year, monitoring them with wiretaps, camera surveillance, and undercover informants. We're getting ready to raid their Brooklyn clubhouse, as well as the homes of a half dozen members."

"Where do we come in?" Tork asked.

"Because a week ago we stumbled upon something that could be a real problem. The chapter president, Arthur Blackwood, is a metahuman. It appears that he is super strong and durable and all kinds of headaches. Since he's a meta, that falls neatly into your jurisdiction. I talked to the guys at the ATF and DEA, they want you to come in and help out with taking Blackwood out at the clubhouse. It'll be a search and seizure as well as an arrest warrant. We'll find what we need in the clubhouse to send Blackwood to prison for a long time. We just need you to make sure he stays down."

"Sure thing," Tork said.

DeWolff sat up. "But how about some quid pro quo?"

Cole looked back at Tork, who nodded.

"What do you need?"

"After we haul Blackwood in, we want to see what Narco has on MGH distributors."

"Sure," Cole said. "Alright, meet me at 1PP at 5 tomorrow morning. We'll move in on the Crusaders at first light."

Cole shook Tork's hand and gave Daz a hug before turning to the two newest members of the 567. "Listen to Tork, the man knows his police work. He'll take you on one hell of a ride, too. Believe me, I know first hand. Alright, see ya'll tomorrow morning."

With a nod to the four cops, Cole turned and left.

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Old 06-29-2011, 11:26 PM   #73
Carnage27
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0



"You're sure this is the most...prudent course of action?" Andreas von Strucker asks as we pace through the halls of HYDRA Headquarters. "It could be the death of us."

I sigh audibly and think before responding. Andreas has always been my biggest supporter. I guess it has to do with our similar origins, but he has always been much more...careful and cautious than me. Andreas is a clone of the late Baron Wolfgang von Strucker. My father believed I would need a friend during my time in training, and had Andreas commissioned. I guess I would consider him my friend, if I considered anyone a friend. But he is loyal to a fault, which is helpful.

"Yes, I'm sure," I respond coolly. "The iron is hot and ready for striking. If we do not act we run the risk of our enemies uniting against us. And I have found the necessary...assets to complete my plan."

"Very well," he bows. "Shall I make preparations for our departure?"

"Please," I smile at my right hand. "We have recruiting to do. But first, as always, we must clear this with the council."

I stride confidently into the large conference room of the HYDRA base, where the lieutenants of HYDRA have been amassed to hear my plan. The room is a large war room left over from World War II. It was incredibly antiquated until I took power, and is now connected to every military database across the world, spying on all of them.

Taking my seat of power at the large, circular table, I study the men around me. Most are weak and frightened shells of their fathers. Even with our substantial strength due to my recruiting and training regimen, they refuse to act against out enemies. They even scolded me for my actions with the nuclear bomb.

"Gentlemen, good evening," I smile fakely at them. "I'm glad you could all make it. For tonight, I plan on revealing HYDRA's grand future. We are behind the times, gentlemen. Even with our bolstered numbers and superior training, we now stand no chance in the game we play. And why is that? Easy. We have but one super powered individual. namely, myself. Without a super powered arsenal we are dead in the water."

"No," one of them stands and slams his fist on the table. "I will have no part in this. I will not allow this group that has stood for the purity of the human race through pure Arian blood. I will not allow you to defile it by bringing freaks into our midst. It is bad enough that you now lead us."

The nervous eyes of the assembled men turn to me, wondering what I'm going to do. I simply smile and nod. The man standing behind the officer who just insulted me, who the instigator believes is his body guard, draws a knife and quickly draws it across the man's neck, spilling his blood onto the table.

I hear a few gasps from the crowd, but most of them aren't surprised, "You see gentlemen, this is what happens to those who fight progress. They are run over by the churning cogs of the future. If any of you ever step out of line again, if any of you ever insult me like that again, even if you think about it, you will meet the same fate. I have no patience left for those that will not move to action. I plan on making moves, gentlemen. Moves that will ensure our dominance for decades to come. And I plan to act on them. Now. Good day."

I turn and head for my hangar, leaving the HYDRA officers to stew in their thoughts.

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Old 07-01-2011, 10:38 PM   #74
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Default Re: The All-Star Marvel RPG: Season 2.0



I push the throttle on my bike as far as it'll go as I speed back towards the mansion and our compound, with Alex doing the same next to me. I've always loved riding this bike, but right now I'd trade it to be a teleporter like Kurt. It's bad enough we have to worry about HAMMER all the time, but now with Magneto invading Genosha...I don't know what to do.

The two of us screech into the large garage on premises, which is much more barren since we allowed the military to take their war machines with them. I quickly dismount my bike and sprint into the mansion, where I find the X-Men huddled around the television watching the coverage of the attack. As I enter, they all turn to me. I simply say, "Go get suited up."

Without another word, they take off towards their respective rooms to change into their gear, and I'm left int the living room with Emma Frost. I still can't get a read on her, which I guess is to be expected considering she's a telepath and trained by SHIELD. I don't know if I can trust her or Nick Fury, but at a time like this I don't think I have a choice, "You're coming with us."

"You wouldn't be able to keep me away," she smiled. "And you don't have to worry about me double crossing you. I'm on your side."

"Don't read my mind," I snap at her. Jean never reads my mind. She respects me more than that, and I can't stand it when this outsider does it.

"I didn't have to," she responds as she leaves to prepare. "Oh, and Cyclops...I wouldn't be so sure about Grey not reading your mind."

I ignore that comment and wait for the team to reassemble. Once there, I begin dolling out orders, "Alright. You know what the situation is, and we're going to deal with it."

"Why?" Warren asks. "Why should we care that Magneto is attacking some nation we have nothing to do with? Why should we risk our necks for people that hate us?"

It's a valid question, I'll give him that, "Great questions, Warren. I'm being sincere here. But if we're going to show that we belong as protectors of peace, we need to battle injustices and terrors like Magneto. We need to prove we are the better men in the equation." I survey the room again, and the explanation seems to work, so I continue, "Jean, Beast, Angel, Nightcrawler, Iceman, Storm, and Frost are my Genosha team. The rest? You guys are staying here."

A cry of anger goes up from the ones I'm leaving behind, but I can't take all of them, "Listen, I know. I know you want to come, and if I could, I would take you. But we need to leave people to guard the mansion. HAMMER could take this opportunity to take the mansion, and I need you guys here to protect the smaller ones. Now, Genosha team, head to the hangar. I'll meet you there in five."

As they shuffle out, I pull Colossus and my brother aside, "You two are in charge while I'm gone. Work together, and make sure everyone is safe. If they show up, and you can't fight them off, I want you to surrender. Do you understand?"

"Definitely, boss," Pete nods. "We won't let you down."

"You got it bro," Alex smiles. "And if we can fight them off, well...they'll get a little of Havok."

I smile at the two of them and head for the hangar, and towards my first mission as an independent hero.

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Old 07-06-2011, 12:56 PM   #75
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I’m tossed onto something hard and flat. They unhand my bill but then immediately pin my arms down. Something pulls the sack off my head and before I know it I can see again. And it looks like I’m in some sort of…kitchen?

“What’s going on?! Where am I?!?”

I look around to take a gander at my captors…Asians. Asians everywhere.

They exchange glances. Look horrified. One of them is holding a meat cleaver inches away from my throat. I now realize why I’ve been brought here. And sober up real quick.

“SWEET ****ING CHRISTMAS, DON’T EAT ME, PLEASE!!”

“It talks!” one of them shouts.

“Yeah, I talk! And I’m wearing a shirt and pants and everything else you would typically attribute to a sentient being, now could you please let me go? Please?!?

The man with the meat cleaver says something in what I’m assuming is Chinese. Another one shouts at him. Another comes in to defend him. Before I know it, they’re all bickering with each other. I try to wriggle free, hoping the momentary distraction would have loosened their grip.

Nope.

Well, looks like this is it. I had a good run, I guess. I mean, this is kind of anti-climatic considering all the horrific **** I’ve been through. You’da thought I would have been killed by some demonic space dinosaur or some sentient, evil, super-intelligent black hole with a heroin addiction. But no. I’m going to be skewered, slow roasted, and served with scallions and some of those tiny pancake things. And that tasty sauce…..y’know, I could go for some Chinese right now…is there egg in egg rolls? I never taste any egg. Why are they called—oh, right, certain death. Yeah. That’s totally about to happen. Definitely gonna happen. I absolutely do not foresee any odd turn of events occurring within the next few moments that will totally change the course of this current situation.

Just then, a new group of Chinese men barged into the kitchen. They were very different from this lot—wearing jewelry, bearing scars, dressed in black coats. The cooks immediately let go of me and stiffened—almost as if standing at attention. They began trembling and sweating profusely. Two of the thuggy lookin’ guys stepped forward—one was bald, bulky, and had a scraggly, unshaven face. The other was short and slim and wore pink shades and a black suit. The small one mumbles something to the big one and then the big one starts talking.

<“Boss Liu would like to know why his usual lunch has not been prepared.”>

The cooks shot each other odd looks until one of them finally stepped forward.

<“W-we were just about to—“>

<“Boss Lui believes that it has been clearly established for some time that he is to have a dish of Peking duck prepared for him daily and served promptly at 3 PM. Do you know what time it is now?”>

<“I—we—“>

<“Three thrity-five.”>

<“W-we had run out! And w-we came across this strange—“>

<“Boss Liu believes for this insolence, he should collect your protection money early this month.”>

<“W-w-what?! How early?”>

<“Now.”>

<“But we do not have it yet!”>

<“Then Boss Liu believes you should be punished.”>

The big one immediately throws a right hook and takes out the chef. The thugs scatter about the kitchen and start trashing the place. They start wailing on the cooks, knocking ‘em left and right, breaking bones, kicking down shelves, destroying kitchen equipment. When all the cooks are out cold and the place thoroughly wrecked, they turn their attention towards me.

<“What the hell is that thing?”>

<“Is that a duck?”>

“OH GOD, PLEASE DON’T KILL ME! I’LL DO ANYTHING, I SWEAR!!”

“Holy ****, it talks!”

“Yes!!! Yes, I talk! I’m a living, breathing, talking, being!”

“What…what shall we do with it, Boss Liu?”

The one in pink shades mumbles something to the big one.

“Boss Liu believes that if this creature can see, talk, and think, then it is a witness. And he does not like witnesses.”

The others nod and grab some of the many knives now lying around and begin closing in on me.

“NOOOO!! NOOOO!!! PLEASE!!! I WON’ T TALK! I SWEAR! I WON’T TELL A SOUL! I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU GUYS WANT ME TO, PLEASE DON’T KILL MEEE!!!!”

They continue to close in. One of them grabs my head and pulls it back, exposing my throat to all them knives. Well, it looks like this it. For real this time. No way out. At all.

“WAIT!!!”

The thugs freeze and look back at tiny and cue ball.

“Boss Liu has changed his mind. Given the unique nature of this witness, he may be of some use to us.”

After being driven around town blindfolded for forty minutes, I find myself in a dim room. There are Chinese scrolls hanging off the walls, jade statues, dragons up the wazoo—typical Chinese mob setup, I guess. I mean—I’m not stereotyping or anything. I’m just assuming that this is a Chinese mob base, given the situation…I-I’m not a racist, I swear.

I know I’m surrounded but the only two people I can make out are the big thuggish guy and his tiny boss in front of me. The small one mumbles into the ear of the big one.

“Boss Liu has an assignment for you, duck. In return for its completion, we will let you live.”

“Oh…okay…what’s the assign—“

“Silence! You will speak when spoken to, duck.”

“B-but…but you just spoke to—“

“Silence! Should I have to say it again, we will cancel this assignment and take your life right here and now, do you understand?!”

I nod.

“Well?! SPEAK UP! ANSWER ME!”

“Y-yes?”

“Good, very good. Sir?” he said, turning to the little one. Boss Liu stepped forward and glared at me. And naturally, I trembled and let out a few whimpering squeals.

“Dis is your assignment, duck: We are having territory battle wit di Itarian mob…”

This is how the guy actually spoke. I’m not lampooning a stereotypical Chinese accent. The guy…the guy just talked that way. Honestly…I’m not a racist.

“You will travel to Rittle Itary and enta Romita’s Itarian Restaurant. There, you will request to meet wit da management and offa dis gift to the owna…”

Liu handed me a gift-wrapped box.

“…Don Romita. Encrosed is a bomb that will detonate when da box is opened. If I had sent one of my men, Romita would have expected foul pray. But, if I sent a duck, he will not be da srightest bit suspicious.”

I nod silently, ignoring the many flaws in this overly-simplistic plan that keep popping up in my head.

“Here,” the big, thuggish guy grunted as he tossed me some clothes.

“You will wear this. A bit more respectable.”

A dress shirt, black pants, and a casual, albeit heavy, jacket. I guess that is a bit more respectable than my wrinkled slacks and stained Led Zeppelin IV shirt. I nod again as a blindfold is pulled around my eyes.

“You will now be escorted out of the premises. We will be watching. If you stray from your path or contact authorities, your life will meet an untimely end. Remember that, duck.”

I nod again and am yanked out of my seat and led away.

Holy ****…I have to kill a mob boss…ok, calm down, Howard. You’ve been gone a while. Lester is probably looking for you right now. He’ll find you, get help, and this’ll all be over…

* * *
Man. Where the **** is Howard? He’s been gone since, like, forever ago. Maybe I should close up shop and go look for him? He could be lost or in trouble or something…or he could be out drinking. Again. That’s probably what he’s doing. Man. What a douche. Should I just go light up? I think I’ll just go light up…

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