One Universe: Season IV IC Thread

[Catman_prb]

Sanity is a game.

It is very much like poker. You must keep a straight face in order to fool your opponent, whilst playing the hand with which you are dealt. Certain things are bet on your hand and if you win the game, you receive the winnings. And like poker, you can play the game, and even win, with a bad hand. Sanity is easily faked.

Currently I am sitting opposite Wanda Maximoff in a cafe in Paris wearing a human persona. That is to say, the SHIELD approved stealth program that I recently found hidden away in the deep recesses of my systems, which consists of a blonde caucasian male. I'm told that I look quite dashing. The weather is pleasant, so we sit outside.

"So how did you find me?" Wanda asked as the waiter brings the drinks over to the table.

"I'm connected to the SHIELD global satellite system. It wasn't hard," I said, smiling mechanically. Wanda's eyes opened slightly wider.

"SHIELD knows where I am?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice.

"Of course not," I said graciously "I make sure to corrupt any information they have on you on a daily basis,"

"Oh," she said "Thankyou,"

"Not a problem," I replied, smiling. There was an awkard moment as we both sat there, not entirely sure what to say.

"Why are you here?" Wanda asked, taking a sip of the drink she'd ordered. I smiled.

"I merely wanted to see you. You have left quite an impression upon me," I said.

"So...don't you have anything better to do with your time than hunt down wanted mutants?"

"I assure you Miss Maximoff if I were hunting you, you would not be drinking tea," I joked, enjoying her smile.

"I'm flattered that you find me so interesting Vision," Wanda said, twirling a finger around in the condensation ring left on the table.

"You've...done something to me..." I mutter, self-conscious of what I'm saying. Wanda raises a perfect eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Since I've met you...sometimes I just...I'm awake when I should be offline. I think about things...about you...when I should be on task. I start to learn and to feel things. And I think all the time. And I wonder..." I said, pausing and feeling like an adolescant "If you've cast a spell on me,"

She smiled. I must've sounded like a lovesick puppy.

"I must admit..." she said, not quite meeting his eye "you've left quite an impression on me too,"

She leant towards me, and I made sure that my internal heater kept me at human body temperature. I noticed a hundred little flaws in her body and face that made her all the more attractive to me. I let our lips meet and memorise the moment. These feelings are strange to me, and I should ignore them. But I don't, and I kiss her back. And then I wonder to myself. Am I really in Paris kissing a beautiful woman that I've only ever met once before, or am I offline and dreaming in the cold, sterile lab. Am I insane.

My eyes meet hers.

Sanity is overrated.

 

[Carnage27]

"Jubilee would be be my girlfriend," Jamie croaked "Who I'd be glad to tell you all about in private,"

"Have you slept with her?" Moira asked pointedly. Jamie made a choking sound.

"Moira!" he gasped.

"You know I'll get it out of you," Madrox's adopted mother growled.

"...yes..." Jamie muttered, going a deep crimson. Moira's stony face broke into a smirk.

"Good for you son," she said with her rich scottish burr, before turning around and walking into the facility. Jamie stood in a stunned silence for a second.

"You'll pay for that smurf-boy," he growled at Kurt.

I suppress the chuckle that has been leaking out of me since the start of the exchange, "Vhat!? She's very intimidating. She's like a female Sean Connery. You would have spilled zhe beans as well."

We walk further into the compound, and I look over at Scott, "So, who are ve meeting with now?"

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"An orphan girl named Nightshade", Scott replied as his memories went back to his days spent in an orphanage. Definitely was not the most pleasant time in Scott's young life, so he knew what she must be going through.

Still, Muir Island didn't seem anywhere near as bad as the place he once called home.

"Aye, I know who yer lookin' for", answered a older, red-haired man in jeans and a leather jacket.

Moira walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Students, I'd like to introduce you to Sean Cassidy."

"Pleasure ta meet Xavier's famous X-Men", Sean replied with a tip of his baseball hat.

"So you know where the girl is?"

"Yes", Moira replied.
"Her name is Eve Eden. We found her on the mainland a couple o' months back. Scared and alone. Didn't remember how she got here to Scotland, or anything about her past."

"Really? Well, Xavier should be able to help her regain her memories."

"Aye, which is why I called Charles to tell him about Eve. She's all packed and ready to go. Should be in the cafeteria gettin' a bite to eat if you want to go introduce yourselves."

"All right, team. Jean and I will go to the cafeteria and meet Eve. You're welcome to come along if you want to. Or I'm sure you could hang around here and relax if you wish."

"Aye, could give ye all a tour, and show ya the rec room if any of you all feel like losin' in a game o' pool", smiled Sean.

 

[Eddie Brock]

COLOSSUS

It's just past noon on a weekday, and that means it's time for my daily art class. Many were surprised that I chose art of all the electives offered here at the Institute. That's because they don't know me, the real me. I love art. It's the only way I really know how to express myself. And, on days like today, it brings me closer to home.

I examine my crude painting of a barn, flanked by a sun setting over cornfields. It's based on a picture of the farm my family owns back in Russia. I've never seen it, but Mikhail sent me a picture once. It looks so peaceful. I can't wait until I get a chance to visit and see it with my own eyes. I just don't know when that will be.

I get that distinct feeling that someone's looking at me, so I glance around the classroom. So far as I can tell, everyone's engrossed in their work. That's the thing about artists. We take our work seriously. I mean, I can only imagine what Kurt would be like in here. He's a fun guy, but I don't know if he'd understand the connection between an artist and his canvas.

However, my eyes fall upon a redheaded girl not too far from where I'm standing. She looks familiar. Even though we have this class together, we've never formally met. I never paid her much attention, but - upon seeing her - I realize that we pass each other in the hallways almost daily. We've never talked, but I find her very pretty. No sooner do I start to feel a flutter inside than she starts to turn her head.

I quickly direct my focus back to my canvas, hoping my cheeks aren't turning red. I feel her gaze burning into my cheek, and I find myself unable to resist the temptation to glance over once more. When I do, our eyes meet. She blushes and looks away, a smile on her face. I'm unable to help myself from smiling goofily as well. Raging teenage hormones, I suppose.

She looks up once more, and we stare at each other for a moment. We're both grinning from ear to ear. I can feel my heartbeat in my chest. It's accelerating. A lump is growing in my throat. "Watch out," she whispers.

"What?" I respond, perhaps a little too loudly. Some of the others in the class turn and look at me. I fumble with my paintbrush in an attempt to face my canvas once more. My knee hits the bottom of the easel, and a canister of paint falls onto my jeans. My left thigh is now coated in a lime green color.

The room buzzes with hushed laughter. I look up at the girl, and she, too, is giggling. She controls herself long enough to give me an apologetic look. I realize what just happened. She's a precog. Wonderful. I put down my brush and try to assess the damage to my jeans. At least I had the sense to wear an older pair.

"Is everything alright, Peter?" our teacher asks as she approaches from behind. She's one of the few teachers here who calls me "Peter," and not "Mr. Rasputin." It makes me feel more like the American I am - even if my real name is spelled "Piotr." When she looks over my shoulder and sees the spill, she announces, "Oh dear. Do you want to go to your room and change?"

"I should help clean up," I offer politely.

"Don't worry about it," the teacher assures me. She waves her hand, and the paint is blown back into the canister. The canister then pops into an upright position on the floor. It's as if the spill never happened - save for my jeans, that is. "Go on. I trust you won't need a pass," she muses, staring at the large spill on my pants. It's running down towards my shoes.

I turn - slowly - and begin to almost tiptoe out of the room. I take one last look at the girl, who's smiling underneath her reddened face. All I can do is smile sheepishly. Well, that could've went better.
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

Once Gwen has left, I scramble behind my bed to find my communicator. I make a mental note to be more careful about shutting it off when people are coming into my room. Gwen may have thought nothing of it this time, but a repeat of that incident could raise some suspicions. And that's the last thing I need right now, on top of everything else.

"Superman? It's Spider-Man," I speak into the device. "You called me a little while back, and I wasn't available to respond." Silence on the other end of the line. Perfect. I'm playing phone tag with the one of the most powerful men on the planet. "What's up?"
​

After a few moments of silence, the communicator crackles. "Can we meet?" Superman asks simply.

I glance at the clock. It's getting late, but I still have time. I just have to make sure I'm not gone long enough that Aunt May might realize I'm not sitting in my room. "Right now? Uh...yeah, I guess. Where?"

"The Empire State Building," Superman answers in that calm, commanding voice of his. "See you soon." And then, the line is dead once more. I feel a sudden rush of fear. Why does Superman need to see me? Did I do something wrong? Did something happen to the other Leaguers? There are a million possibilities, and only one way to learn the truth.

I snatch up my webshooters from beneath my pillow and head for my bedroom window.

***

I'm only inches from the top of the Empire State Building when I hear the flapping of Superman's cape. He beat me here. Then again, he is faster than a speeding bullet. Not that I know any other kind of bullet. When I finally pull myself up, he's floating there. Man, flying must be so cool.

Superman smiles pleasantly. The guy is rarely in a bad mood. But when he is, it's best to take cover. This much, I've learned. "I'm glad you could meet me on such short notice," he announces kindly. "Have you ever met my cousin?"

"Supergirl?" I reply. He simply nods. "Not formally or anything. Why?"

Superman folds his arms. "She wants to join the League," he explains. I can tell by his tone and his body language that he's worried. I'm not sure why he would be. If Supergirl is anywhere near his power level, she's got very little to fear. Except for a rock, of course.

I lean against the towering spire. "Well, does the League accept walk-ins?" I ask. "I mean, she certainly has the credentials. And I'm sure her references are solid."

"I'm not sure the League is the kind of environment I want to see Ka--Supergirl getting involved in," Superman responds. Man, Supergirl's been around - what? - a year, and he's already got that "concerned parent/older sibling" tone down pat. "That's why I wanted to ask you how you feel about the League. Do you ever feel out of place?"

I think about the question.

"Honestly," Superman adds. He meets my gaze, and I notice - and I mean this in the straightest way possible - he has the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen. "I won't hold what you say against, and I certainly won't be offended."

I relax a little. Superman has that effect on people. "Honestly?" I repeat hesitantly. "Sometimes, yeah, I do. I mean, you guys are great and all, and I feel honored to be counted among you, but..." He's looking out over the city. I think he expected this answer. "Plus, it doesn't help that half you guys can move mountains, and I just shoot Silly String from my wrists."

Superman smiles weakly. "I've been getting that feeling the last few meetings," he admits. He turns and faces me. "You have to forgive us. We sometimes forget that teenage life was difficult, and some of us don't even know what it was like to deal with while having powers." It feels weird to have Superman give me this talk. I mean, he's not even that old.

In an effort to break the silence - which was becoming more awkward by the moment - I ask, "Does this mean I'm not part of the League anymore?"

"Spider-Man, you'll always be part of the League," Superman assures me. His confidence in me makes me feel a lot better about myself. I mean, if Superman's with you, who can be against you? "But I've come to ask you if you think you'd be more comfortable in an environment with people your own age."

I furrow my brow. "What, like, a mini-League?"

Superman shrugs. "Essentially," he answers, "Though that description doesn't quite cover what I had in mind." He turns back to the city. "You and Supergirl are teenagers and budding superheroes. As such, you need all the support you can get through these tough, maturing years. Unfortunately, you need the kind of support that we in the League either don't know how to give or don't have the time to give."

"So you want to create a League incubator?"

Superman smiles as he glances at me from the corner of his eye. "I sometimes forget how sharp you are," he concedes. "I don't want to think of this team as merely a way to train future Leaguers. No. What this team should do is promote the healthy growth of you guys as superheroes but also as people."

He turns back to me once more.

"I want it to be a family."

I nod understandingly. I know what he's getting at. Who better to help us navigate through the troubled waters of teenage superheroism than other teenage superheroes? At the very least, it gives you someone to vent to. I love Aunt May and Gwen dearly, but my double-life often leaves me feeling like I have no one to talk to at times.

"I think it sounds like a great idea," I admit genuinely. "Who's up for it?"

"You and Supergirl," Superman responds. "I haven't spoken to anyone else about it yet. I wanted to hear your opinion first." He then smirks once more. "And I figured that if anyone could help me put together a roster..."

This is one of those moments. Those moments when I realize that my life, while Hellish at times, is something else. Superman wants to work alongside me personally. He wants to hear my honest opinions. How unreal is that?

"This sounds like something that would be right up Johnny Storm's alley," I think aloud. "Especially if Supergirl is involved." Superman's smile falters slightly at this. I don't blame him. Johnny's a great guy, but I wouldn't want him coming near any of the girls I know. It spells trouble. "What about Robin?"

Superman says nothing.

"Unless Batman has 'rules' about using him or something."

Superman scratches his chin. I don't think he considered Robin before. "I can approach Batman," he replies. "See if that's an idea he even wants to entertain. Of all people, I think it would do Robin good."

I agree. Robin seems like a pretty cool guy, but anyone who spends that much time with Batman is going to have issues. Human beings simply weren't meant to be that glum all the time. It's why I have my wonderful sense of humor.

"If they think they can handle double-duty, I'm sure some of Professor Xavier's students might be interested," Superman muses. "Assuming one of them does join, that brings us to five..."

"Maybe one or two more?"

Superman nods. "Six or seven is a good number. It keeps things close-knit. I'm sure Fury must have encountered some teenage metahumans during his time with SHIELD. If he can provide us with any way to contact them..."

I nod.

"Well, I think we've accomplished a lot, Spider-Man," Superman announces pleasantly. "For now, let's take some time to work out some of the logistics. Just contact me when you've spoken to Johnny Storm - or anyone, for that matter." Superman starts to float away. "Thanks again for your help, Spider-Man."

"Really, thank you," I respond sincerely. This is an honor above all honors. Superman wants my help. I never thought this day would come. He gives me a little salute, and I return the gesture, just before he rockets off into the sky once more. I'm left alone atop the Empire State Building to process this information.

All I know is that I'm going to be very busy in the coming weeks.
​

 

[Red_Robin77]

I smile at Dick's enthusiasm as we pull into the garage. "No, nothing specific planned tonight. I was thinking Alfred makes us a light meal, we swing by the GCPD to see if Gordon needs us...and they you pick the patrol route for a change."

We walk inside the mansion and Alfred is there to greet us. "So, what do you say?"

"Awesome," I smile gleefully as I rush off through the large house towards the huge dining room.

Alfred had already got a dish ready and waiting for us, with yet another mouth-watering dinner. I went over to my place and began to eat the food quickly. The anticipation building up for the night's patrol meant stopping me getting there had to go quickly. Before I knew it the plate was empty and I leapt out of my seat. Bruce was still eating away and I consider waiting for him to finish, before deciding to go down to the Cave anyway.

"If you need me Bruce, I'll be in the Cave."

With that, I head out of the Dining Room and run into the study, where I stand in front of the large grandfather clock. I open up the case and pull the inside mechanics down, making the clock slide to the side, revealing a staircase heading downwards. I run down the stairs quickly, jumping two at a time before I end up in the massive dark cave.

I head over to the area of the Cave where my costume and gadgets were laid out on a table. I quickly slip it all on and put the gadgets in my belt, full equipped for the night. I head over to the seat of the Batcomputer and stretch out, waiting patiently for Bruce to arrive.

 

[Eddie Brock]

"We have a problem, Mr. Goblin," the imposing figure with the deep voice announces. He's standing before a floor-length window, overlooking New York. His large frame stands out against the night's light. He turns and faces the oddly-dressed man before him. "You killed one of my most trusted lieutenants."

The Goblin smiles gleefully. "Who? Priscilla?" His smile widens. He knows all too well that Priscilla worked for this man. It's half the reason he killed her in the first place. "Your faith in her was misguided. She barely put up a fight!"

"I don't take kindly to people who attack my organization," the man explains threateningly. "It's bad for business." He pulls out his chair and sits. The Goblin remains standing. "So what are we going to do about our little disagreement?"

"Oh, I'm not going to do anything," the Goblin answers snidely. "Say, you wouldn't happen to run the Apocalypse or the Dragon Tails, would you? I was planning on targeting them next."

The large man leans forward. "Let me make something clear to you," he begins calmly - but with an aggregated edge, "I run all the crime in this city. Some way, somehow, it all leads back to me. Now, does that sound like the kind of person you want to go up against?"

The Goblin's smile never falters. "You don't need to lecture me, Kingpin. I know who you are. And I think I'll take my chances."

"You're making a serious mistake. You won't last a week," the Kingpin threatens. "Now, cease and desist your operations in my territory, and I'll forget the whole matter with Priscilla." He leans back in his chair and folds his hands.

"Let me tell you who I am: I'm the guy who single-handedly dismantled a third of your major crime organization," the Goblin replies sneeringly. "And when I'm done with them, I'm coming back here to put your fat head on a stake for all to see." The Goblin turns and begins to leave, but he stops and speaks once more. "I run this city now."

As the Goblin leaves, the Kingpin calls out, "You know what this means, Goblin."

"Then, cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!" the Goblin cries as he kicks one of the Kingpin's dead guards on his way out the door.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

​

"I have a question."

The big, booming voice is intimidating enough to silence the reporters. Sounds German. They all turn around to look at the direction of the voice. A man in a long black coat stands up.

"Captain America, after your last tyrannical intervention in European affairs, how dare you besmirch our soils once more?"

And then, I kid you not, the German dude floats up into the air, casting his coat aside.

"Or have you forgotten...."

"...CAPTAIN NAZI!"

Oh brother, not one for subtlety. But I'm one to talk. I turn to Steve.

"A fan of yours, I take it?"

"More like a plague." I say to Iron Man as I leap off the stage and toss my shield at Nazi's chest.

He catches it with one hand and smiles as he tosses it back.

"Still using your toys, Captain?" He chuckles as I jump into the air and catch my shield mid-flight.

"Say what you will, Nazi. I used my toys to stop you and your insane Führer."

I charge shield first and crash into the facist supervillain with a loud crash.

We both grimace as we remained dead locked, my shield pressed against his arms as we try to push each other off.

"You fail to see the truth, Captain. Hitler was never the future of the reich." He says through gritted teeth.

"I was!" He roars as he gains the upper hand and sends me flying back on to the stage.

 

[Catman_prb]

"All right, team. Jean and I will go to the cafeteria and meet Eve. You're welcome to come along if you want to. Or I'm sure you could hang around here and relax if you wish."

"Aye, could give ye all a tour, and show ya the rec room if any of you all feel like losin' in a game o' pool", smiled Sean.

"I'm not playing you ever again Sean," Jamie said, smirking at his old friend "How're the tests going mate?"

"Ye best ask yer mother about that, Jamie lad," Sean said, grinning at the youth. Moira looked genuinely happy to talk about her latest research, much to Jamie's ire.

"Well so far I've managed to isolate the X-gene and artificially recreate them, but the effects they've had on the lab rats have been...undesireable to say the least," she said.

"Uhhu," Jamie said blankly, instantly brightening when he saw a girl with dark hair walking down the corridor.

"Jamie!" she shouted, jumping up and throwing her arms around his neck, much to his amusement.

"Hey Laura," Jamie said, grinning "Kurt, I'd like you to meet Laura Kinney, one of my oldest friends. This is what a real friend looks like, so take a good look,"

"Don't be a prick," Laura admonished, slapping him on the chest. A large figure with a shock of red hair walked up behind her and slid an arm around her shoulders. Jamie fought to keep a sneer of disgust off of her face.

"Hullo Kevin," he said with a fixed expression on his face.

"Hey pip squeak, ye came back. I'm thrilled," Kevin said, a look of hatred clearly plastered on his brutal face.

"So you two are still together then," Jamie said, a tight smile on his face. Laura had the decency to look at the floor and blushed.

"Yeah, we are," she muttered.

"Going on three years now, isn't it babe?" Kevin said, planting a sloppy kiss on the girl's face. Jamie noted the possessive grip on her shoulder.

"And still with sickening public displays of affection," Jamie muttered, under his breath.

"You got a problem, pip squeak? D'you even like girls?" Kevin growled.

"Honestly I don't care what you think of me you over posturing prick," Jamie said, smiling calmly at the bigger and elder boy, before spinning around on the spot and walking away.

"That's my adopted brother," Jamie said to Kurt "He's always been ever-so-slightly jealous of my powers,"

 

[Eddie Brock]

SUPERMAN

"Smallville, let's go!" Lois barks frantically as she taps me on the shoulder. She has her coat in her hands. I stare at her blankly. "There's a fire down at the WLXL radio station!" she explains excitedly. Sometimes, Lois worries me with how much joy she gets out of disasters. Still, if there's a fire, Superman should be there...

I shake my head, hunching over slightly more. "I'm sorry, Lois. I can't go. I feel terrible," I lie. I make a gagging sound. "I think it's something I ate. Kara and I went out to eat last night, and I knew shellfish was a bad idea..." I reach for my trashbin.

Lois makes a disgusted face. "Please - for my health - say no more," she insists. She starts to put on her coat. "I'll cover for you with the Chief if he asks, but you owe me." She points a threatening finger. I make another gagging noise, and she wastes no time in heading for the elevator.

Once Lois is gone, I sit up straight. I glance once around the newsroom. It's pretty empty. A slow day for the Planet. I close out of the browsers on my computer before setting it to 'Sleep.' I grab my coat from the back of my chair as I head out of the newsroom.

***

I can see the pillar of smoke from above. Superhearing alerts me that the Metropolis Fire Department is caught in traffic and hasn't arrived on the scene yet. I have to move fast. I swoop in from the sky, much to the excitement of the assembled crowd. Lois is among them, somewhere. I only hope she doesn't try to get any closer.

As I land in front of the radio station, I notice a poster. The woman in it looks familiar. I suddenly remember where I recognize her from. She's that DJ Lois told me about, the one who hates Superman. My suspicions are confirmed as I read her name at the bottom of the poster: Leslie Willis. According to the information on this poster, her show should be on right now.

Which means she's trapped inside.

I burst into the radio station, and smoke makes it impossible to see. I decide to rely on my x-ray vision. There are people scattered about, some of them unconscious. I quickly go to work, dragging each of them out one at a time. Plaster and drywall collapses on top of me, but I ignore it. I have a job to do.

Everyone's out except one person. They're trapped in the deepest part of the station. The smoke clears long enough for me to read the sign on the door. It's Leslie Willis. I kick the door down and enter the room, scanning with my x-ray vision. Leslie is collapsed on the floor. I pick her up in my arms and make my way back to the main hallway.

That's when there's a large explosion. I instinctively wrap my body around Leslie to protect her from the blast. Fire and electricity rip through the air, and I know that the generators must've gone up. To me, it feels like little more than a tickle, but - despite my efforts - Leslie's body absorbs some of the blast. I turn and make a desperate break for the exit.

Bursting through a window, I manage to escape the station before the roof begins to collapse. Emergency crews have begun to gather around the base of the station. Medics are tending to the wounded. Police are backing off the crowd. Firefighters are rolling out their hoses. I look down to Leslie. She looks seriously burnt. I deliver her to a medic.

"She was caught in the blast," I explain ashamedly. It always seems that no matter how hard I try, I can never save everyone. Maybe that's why people like Leslie hold their opinions of me. Sometimes, I'm not sure I can blame them.

I walk away from the emergency crews, and I'm instantly bombarded by flashes of light. Reporters thrust microphones into my face, barking questions over one another.

"Superman! Lois Lane, Daily Planet!"

I look into Lois's eyes for a second. I then address the larger crowd, "No questions today. Thank you." And before they begin their second wave of questions, I take off into the blue Metropolis sky. Despite how she might think of me, I hope Leslie is okay.
​

 

[Matt Murdock]

Corpses line the tavern, each with a very distinct facial mark I've put on all of them tonight. This is it. This is when the Great White Hope, Harvey Dent will make his appearance. How do I know? Simple logic. He sent a messenger looking for me. I shot the messenger. I was never one for idioms or phrases, after all. Since this is where I first got into contact with Harvey's little crime syndicate, this is where he'll come looking for me.

I sit at the bar, running a finger through a dead goon's hair. He's slumped next to me. Not very talkative, as you can imagine. With a smirk, I lean over the bar and get a ceramic bowl. Presumably, before this place wasn't a dead-end dive, it was actually a reputable restaurant. Those days have long since, passed, however.

I fumble around in my jacket and pull out a bottle that formerly held soda. I empty the clear liquid into the bowl and quietly bump the goon's head on the bar, simply waiting.

The bell over the door rings, and the door swings open quietly. There, in the streetlight is the shilouetted frame of Harvey Dent. I don't bother looking up.

He glances around silently, drinking in my handywork. I pick up the head of the goon next to me. Silently, I dip half of it into the liquid next to me. An eerie hiss echoes through the room as I singe the flesh off of half of the man's face.

"You are not so special, Harvey." I say, as he sees the half-burned faces of twenty or so bar patrons.

"Dozens of people are born every day with deformities and they don't go on any psychotic, homicidal benders." The simmering stops, and I pull the head out and let it fall lazily to the counter top with a thud. I spin quietly around in the chair and make eye contact with him, at last. "I shouldn't really be talking though, should I?"

"What do you want?" Harvey asks quietly, staring me down.

"What?" I ask sadly, "No, 'how've you been?' Aren't you going to ask about the kids?"

Nothing. Not even a grin.

...This from a guy who has an entire half of his face permanently locked in a smile.

"I suppose I should get right down to it. What do you lawyers call it? A 'Declaration of Intent,' I think."

He takes one step inside. I think in Harvey-World, that means the same as Frasier's "I'm listening."

"You have your empire, here. Which is all well and good." I say, with a smirk, "As I'm sure you know, I have something of a knack for causing trouble. Believe me, the last thing I want to do is ruin all the, um, good things you've done here. I love seeing Gotham spiral into the 7th Circle of Hell. Which is why I'm going to say this: Batman is mine."

Dent stares at me, the gears in his head turning.

He pulls out a coin and flicks it eerily. He grips it, and puts it on the back of his hand. He glances back up at me and leaves, leaving the door open. Looks like the coin ruled in my favor, but what about Harvey?

I reach into the pocket of the goon next to me and pull out his cell phone.

I dial the local police precinct.

"Connect me to Jim Gordon." I tell the operator plainly.
​

 

[Eddie Brock]

The door swings open, and I'm greeted by Mr. Osborn himself. He's putting on cufflinks and appears quite busy. Good. The sooner this ends, the better. On top of the fact that I hate being in the same room as this guy, I should be on patrol, anyway. "Ah, Peter, always nice to see you," Mr. Osborn announces politely. "I'm afraid Harry isn't home right now."

"Well, actually, I came to see you," I explain. I applaud myself for being able to say it without cringing.

Mr. Osborn arches an eyebrow. "Is that so? Well, please, come in." He steps aside, and I cross the doorway. I make a lame attempt at a smile as Mr. Osborn closes the door. "I hope you don't feel rushed, Peter, but I actually need to be going soon." Fine by me. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Harry, actually," I sigh. Mr. Osborn gives me a surprised look. I put my hands in my pockets. "Well, there's no easy way to say this, so...I think Harry's doing drugs."

Mr. Osborn freezes in place. "What?"

"I, uh, I heard it from a mutual friend at school. I decided to talk to Harry about it, but he kinda kicked me out," I explain sheepishly. That was a pretty low point, I will admit. Nothing like getting kicked out of your friend's mansion. "Look, I figured you should know..."

Mr. Osborn puts a hand on my shoulder. "Peter, I'm very glad you approached me with this." I can't bring myself to look him in the eye. Sometimes, I feel like Mr. Osborn's trying to be my father or something. It makes me uncomfortable. "Harry's had a tough life, so I can't say I'm surprised at this. That said, it doesn't trouble me any less."

Mr. Osborn crosses the foyer and retrieves his coat from the coat rack.

"Now that you've told me this, I know to keep an eye out," he continues. He pats me once on the shoulder. "You've done the right thing," he assures me. I just bite my lip.

"I sure hope so."

***
​

The city's abuzz since the disbandment of Arsenic Candy. From the few shady characters I've talked to - Frank Oliver among them - I've learned that the Goblin was supposedly involved. Naturally, I'm thrilled at the news. You'd think I'd be happy there's one less gang in New York, but the Goblin's rise to power unsettles me much more than a bunch of Gothic chicks with guns.

Alright, so, being the world's greatest detective and all, I figure that the Goblin's next logical target would be the Apocalypse or the Dragon Tails. All I gotta do is catch him in the act and put him away for good. Don't you love how I make it sound so easy? Problem is, I'm not too popular with the scum of the underworld, so I can't weasel too much information out of them. Which means finding the Goblin is going to be a matter of luck.

Which begs the real question: is running into him good or bad luck?

"HAHAHAHA!"

Either way, I just had it.

"Gobby!" I announce as loudly and joyfully as I can manage. I swing in and plant my heels firmly in the small of the Goblin's back, knocking him off his glider. Beneath us, members of the Apocalypse gang scramble. "Man, I haven't seen you since that tussle during Magneto's invasion!"

The Goblin smiles. That's what I hate about this guy. I get the jump on him, I knock him off his glider, and he enjoys it. Yet, somehow, he knows how to push all my buttons.

"It has been too long, Spider," the Goblin concedes. He delivers a crushing elbow to my cheek. The glider swings around and picks him up. "How's Auntie Dearest?"

See what I mean?

"Doing well," I volley back. The key is not letting him know that he's getting to me. He feeds off that. I fire a webline at his glider. "More than you'll be able to say, I'm sure."

The Goblin takes off into the air, and I'm yanked along with him. I'm starting to see a flaw in my plan of attack. "I trust you're here to thank me for dispatching Arsenic Candy? A simple letter would have sufficed." Once we're high enough, blades spring from beneath the glider and slice effortlessly through my web.

I fire another webline at a nearby building to slow my fall. "Believe me: very few people are happier to see them go than me," I admit. "I mean, did you see the way they were dressed? Not that you or I have any room to talk..." The Goblin swoops in, blades still extended, and makes an attempt to impale me. I perform a midair spin to avoid the attack, and he makes a wide U-turn to circle back around.

"But you'll have to forgive me if I don't see where I'm better off," I finish. "I mean, it's like the Hydra. Are you fan of Greek mythology?" The blades on his glider retract, and my Spider-Sense blares. Bullets start to fly from a minigun beneath the glider, and I drop down to get out of their path. "Anyway, sure, you dismantled one of the gangs, but - odds are - two more will pop up in its place."

The glider dips low as the Goblin manages to wrap his arm around my waist, knocking the wind out of me. He begins a sharp ascent as I try to catch my breath. "It was a calculated risk, I admit. But I'm confident I have the situation under control."

I elbow Gobby in the side of his head, and his grip on my loosens. I pull myself free and leap into the night air. Behind me, I hear the familiar sound of a pumpkin bomb activating. I bring my arms flat against my sides to accelerate my fall. The pumpkin bomb explodes not far behind me. I reach out and grab a lightpost, flipping up onto the perch.

"You know I'm not just going to let you take over New York's underworld, Gobby. I know we go way back, but you don't get any special treatment."

Another pumpkin bomb is lobbed my way, and I backflip out of danger, narrowly escaping the explosion. I land on another lightpost, and I'm greeted by another pumpkin bomb. I perform the same maneuver two more times before growing tired of the repetitiveness. I latch onto the next lightpost like a gymnast and allow my momentum to spin me around and launch me forward. The Goblin swerves to avoid me.

"If you stand in my way, you'll suffer the same fate as Priscilla and the rest of Arsenic Candy," Gobby warns. "Although, I appreciate your vote of confidence. It's nice to know someone believes I have what it takes to be the next Kingpin of Crime!"

The Kingpin. Where have I heard that before? My momentary lack of focus allows a pumpkin bomb to explode too close to me. My body is flung through the air, but I'm still thinking about that name. The Kingpin. I barely feel the impact when I crash through the windshield of a parked car.

Hovering above me, the Goblin explains, "I'm afraid I don't have time to give our rivalry it's due justice. This fight will have to wait until a later time." The Goblin reaches into his bag and retrieves several pumpkin bombs. He sprinkles them across the street. "So long, Spider-Man! HAHAHAHAHA!"

My buzzing Spider-Sense brings me back to the present. I quickly fire a webline and swing away moments before the pumpkin bombs detonate. During the entire swing home, I'm thinking about the Kingpin. I know I've heard someone talk about him before. I just can't remember who.​

 

[Byrd Man]

​

I take a long sip out of my coffee cup as I sit behind my desk and look a Captain Essen. Sarah, as I've come to call her.

"So, where are we on the Two-Face wires?"

"I've broken down our nine member squad into three sections. Sergeant Bullock, Detective Allen, and myself are working the murders. In the three weeks we've been running this case, we've tied 10 bodies to Two-Face's people, nothing concrete to close the case, but we're almost there. On the drug front, Detectives Driver, Fields, and Cole are monitoring the wire and identifying all of Two-Face's drug lieutenants. As it stands, we have wire taps on two drug lieutenants and are close to another top man in Two-Face's group. Lieutenant Akins, Sergeant Sawyer, and Detective Montoya are following the money. They've been busy tracking and tracing every asset that belong to Maroni, seeing where it went and if Two-Face's people got their hands on it. So far, we've identified six legitmate business fronts and banks accounts. We just need to find out how the launder their money. We find the money, I think the rest will fall."

I nod as I take another sip of coffee.

"We get those murders down, that'll be good. I have a meeting with the mayor in about two hours about the crime rate. Apparently, our beloved Mayor Hill, who was an accountant before being seeking public office, knows a thing or two about police work and wishes to school me in that matter."

"Commissioner. You have a call." The intercom rings.

"Put them through, Stacy."

"This is Gordon."​

 

[Eddie Brock]

It took me a little while, but I finally remembered where I heard the name "Kingpin" from. Some guys were talking about it at the Bugle one day. With this revelation in mind, I decided that the next logical step would be to visit the Bugle and peruse their databases. If I was lucky, I wouldn't run into Jonah.

So far, so good.

I bring up the Bugle database before checking the room once more. No one seems to notice or care that I - the teenage, freelance photographer - am using the computer. Maybe I won't be disturbed for once. I quickly go to work, punching away at the keyboard.

SEARCH: Kingpin

News articles begin to pop up. I recognize the writers. Or, should I say, writer? It seems like all these articles are written by the same man: Ben Urich. He's a Pulitzer Prize-winner. His stuff is good. I've never met him, though.

As I begin to go to work, an instant message window pops up. I don't know why I logged in to begin with. A force of habit, I suppose. It's Babs.

Hey there.

I drag the small window to the bottom corner of the screen. I don't mean to blow Babs off, but this is important. The Goblin's trying to get rid of this Kingpin. And you know what they say about an enemy's enemy. Not that I'd ever work with a criminal or anything, but if I can pit the two against one another...

Is your phone off? I tried calling a little while ago.

Once again, I ignore Babs. It sounds like this Kingpin is little more than an urban legend. One man running all the crime in New York City. I admit, it does sound far-fetched. But so does a man swinging from a thread. And if a respected journalist like Ben Urich believes in the Kingpin...

Hello?

Regardless of how the public may feel, it seems like the police very much believe the Kingpin is real. Urich's articles - combined with multiple police documents - suggest that the police have been trying to pin this guy for years. There's even talk of federal investigations. Extortion, money laundering, murder. The Kingpin has a rap sheet to put all other rap sheets to shame.

Peter? Are you there?

Urich has a theory, it seems. Wilson Fisk. Cunning businessman, respected philanthropist. I can just imagine the heat Urich took for accusing such a highly-ranked member of society. Then again, who is better equipped to run a crime syndicate than this Wilson Fisk? He has the resources. He's linked - albeit weakly - to several shady characters. Y'know, the "friend of a friend of a friend" kind of deal. And something about this picture of Fisk. That look in his eye...

...Are you ignoring me?

I look down to the instant message window. I decide to write a quick response.

Busy at the moment.

There's a pause.

Oh.

Are we still getting together this weekend?

I look back to the picture of Fisk. There may not be any evidence on paper against this guy, but I trust Ben Urich's judgment. It seems the police do, too. They've made multiple attempts to get information on Fisk, but they've been stopped every time. It's a lead, and it's all I've got.

Can't. Gotta take care of something important.

"A week off?" the angered voice of Jonah barks as he enters the newsroom. Reporters quickly duck for cover at their desks. Jonah marches in, flanked by Robbie. "It's not like his mother died!"

"Well, his aunt was like a mother to him," Robbie reasons, "And she lived in Flagstaff, so he has to fly there for the funeral."

I decide not to risk getting caught on the computer - especially since Jonah appears to be in a bad mood already.

Gotta go.

I close out of all the browsers as I plan an escape route that won't take me past Jonah.
​

 

[Keyser Soze]

"More like a plague." I say to Iron Man as I leap off the stage and toss my shield at Nazi's chest.

He catches it with one hand and smiles as he tosses it back.

"Still using your toys, Captain?" He chuckles as I jump into the air and catch my shield mid-flight.

"Say what you will, Nazi. I used my toys to stop you and your insane Führer."

I charge shield first and crash into the facist supervillain with a loud crash.

We both grimace as we remained dead locked, my shield pressed against his arms as we try to push each other off.

"You fail to see the truth, Captain. Hitler was never the future of the reich." He says through gritted teeth.

"I was!" He roars as he gains the upper hand and sends me flying back on to the stage.

While Steve's kept Captain Nazi busy, I've been focused on herding Jerry Buzek and the panicking attendees out of the conference hall through the exits. Most of them have made their escape by the time Steve goes flying past me and crashes into the stage where we stood mere minutes ago.

"Well, sooner or later, fascist heirarchies tend to end with spectacular failure, so yeah, I'd say you represent the future of the Reich pretty well. Really getting that failure vibe from you..."

Letting out a snarl of anger, Captain Nazi lunges at me. Good, that's what I was hoping for. Get him nice and close. I hit him with a blast from the uni-beam projector in my chestplate, knocking him through a wall and burying him under its rubble. Easy. I look over my shoulder at Steve.

"Not so tough. The guy's no Captain America."

"No, I am not Captain America."

Captain Nazi emerged from the wreckage, costume torn and smoke still hissing off his body from my attack, but otherwise unscathed.

"Captain America is just a man. I am the living embodiment of an ideal. The spirit of National Socialism courses through my veins. Allow me to show you its power."

With a speed that takes me by surprise, Captain Nazi strikes. One second, he's hovering over the rubble. The next, I'm pinned against the ceiling, his hand around my throat. And yes, I can actually feel him choking me, through the armor.

Okay, not so easy...

 

[Byrd Man]

"Not so tough. The guy's no Captain America."

"No, I am not Captain America."

Captain Nazi emerged from the wreckage, costume torn and smoke still hissing off his body from my attack, but otherwise unscathed.

"Captain America is just a man. I am the living embodiment of an ideal. The spirit of National Socialism courses through my veins. Allow me to show you its power."

With a speed that takes me by surprise, Captain Nazi strikes. One second, he's hovering over the rubble. The next, I'm pinned against the ceiling, his hand around my throat. And yes, I can actually feel him choking me, through the armor.

Okay, not so easy...

CLANG!

My shield strikes against Nazi's skull and whizzes off, the blow makes him lose his bearings long enough to allow me to deliver a swift kick to his face.

"You can call it Facism or National Socialism all you want, Nazi. At the end of the day, it never stands up to freedom."

I bend low and drive my shoulder into his body, making Nazi lose his grip on Iron Man.

The two of us crash into another wall, I keep on driving through wall after wall until we crash into the parking lot.

"Impressive." He says with a smile as swings to strike me.

I return the smile as I hear the sound of metal slicing through the air.

I duck just in time to feel my shield fly over my neck and strike Nazi in the face again.

 

[wiegeabo]

"Awesome," I smile gleefully as I rush off through the large house towards the huge dining room.

Alfred had already got a dish ready and waiting for us, with yet another mouth-watering dinner. I went over to my place and began to eat the food quickly. The anticipation building up for the night's patrol meant stopping me getting there had to go quickly. Before I knew it the plate was empty and I leapt out of my seat. Bruce was still eating away and I consider waiting for him to finish, before deciding to go down to the Cave anyway.

"If you need me Bruce, I'll be in the Cave."

With that, I head out of the Dining Room and run into the study, where I stand in front of the large grandfather clock. I open up the case and pull the inside mechanics down, making the clock slide to the side, revealing a staircase heading downwards. I run down the stairs quickly, jumping two at a time before I end up in the massive dark cave.

I head over to the area of the Cave where my costume and gadgets were laid out on a table. I quickly slip it all on and put the gadgets in my belt, full equipped for the night. I head over to the seat of the Batcomputer and stretch out, waiting patiently for Bruce to arrive.

"Master Richard appears very excited this evening."

I smile. "I said he could plan our patrol route this time."

"Indeed. I take it Master Richard is becoming an accomplished crime fighter then?"

"I think he's well on his way. And it's about time he gets some leadership experience under his belt."

"I would think helping to lead a ragtag group of teenagers while Master Logan wore the mantle would qualify, sir."

"It does, Alfred. I think Dick's got the makings of a good leader in him. I want to make sure he gets all the experience he can. Speaking of which, I best not keep him waiting..." I stand, but Alfred blocks my way.

He clears his throat and glances at my mostly unfinished meal. "I'm fine, Alfred."

"Sir, ever since the arrival of Miss Elektra, you have actually been eating food. I would like to see you continue to treat your body like a normal human being does. At least for a little longer."

I smile at Alfred's ever present concern. "Dick's waiting for me."

"Master Richard also had the good sense to finish his dinner before rushing off to the cave, although I doubt he was able to enjoy it. I would expect at least the same courtesy from you, sir. Especially after the time I spent preparing it..."

"Really, Alfred. Guilt?" He remains unwavering. I give him a lopsided grin. "Fine. Go tell Dick I'll be a few minutes.

***

A few minutes later I walk down the cave steps, glad to have listened Alfred. The man can cook. Dick's already in costume, sitting at the batcomputer with more screens up than I can count in a glance. I head over to the costume vault.

"Have everything planned out yet?" I ask as I start slipping into my suit.

 

[Red_Robin77]

After the meeting breaks up, I decide to go home. I need to talk to Wally as soon as possible, but I'm not sure what I'm going to say. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable using Wally to get to the Avengers. Maybe I'm thinking about it the wrong way. Maybe I'm assuming way too much about Wally's choice.

Or maybe I'm just scared to find out my fears are justified.

Whatever the reason, I run home instead. Joan always seems to be able to clear my head and put everything into perspective. I don't know what I would have done for all these years without her.

I see the familiar Welcome to Keystone City sign and smile. A few more seconds and I'm home, talking everything over with Joan. And just like I thought, she put my mind at ease. She assures me that I am assuming too much, and Wally's a young man now. Not a boy. He's taken on Barry's mantel and is wearing the name well. So maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt.

I ended up sleeping well that night.

But I'm shaken out of bed when my communicator blasts an alarm. My heart fells like it's beating at the speed of sound. I force myself to focus, grab my communicator, slip into my costume, and am out the door running toward Gotham before Joan can even open her eyes and quietly say my name. It took me three minutes to jog back home yesterday. I'm at the Brownstone in less than twenty seconds.

I reach the front door, bursting inside. "What's the emergen-uhhhh?"

There's no one else inside the Brownstone. Just a large hole in the ceiling of the main room. I look up at the sky outside. "Oh man. Ted's going to be ticked..."

***

"WHAT THE ****!?"

"I don't know Ted. I just got here myself."

"Sonova-! Were we attacked?"

"I've been over the place ten times. This is the only damage. Not much of an attack."

"Well, it's too weird to be a practical joke."

"Yeah..." I scratch the back of my head. "Heh. It's just like the old days."

Ted smiles. "Sure is. What do ya say? You get the materials, I get the beers, and we have this thing fixed by lunch time?"

***

So we don't get done until a couple of hours after lunch time. But can you blame us? We haven't had to repair the Brownstone's roof in decades.

Ted puts the hammer back in his tool belt and climbs down the ladder. "Looks good as new, Jay."

I wipe the dirt from my hands. "Hey, you fix the same roof a couple of hundred times over the years, you get good at it." Ted chuckles a bit.

"Heh. So...you talked with Wally yet?"

"Um...No, I put it off until I talked with Joan. I think I'll go over today, though. No use in putting it off."

"Yeah. You go ahead. I'll stay here. Make sure the old place stays in one piece for a day. Before you go though, could you pick me up-?" A gust of wind later, and I'm holding a pair of six-packs.

"Jay, you're the best friend a man could ask for."

***

By the time I get to Central City, the news is everywhere. A new band of Rogues have attacked and disappeared while Wally was fighting them. I sigh as more newscasts than not paint Wally's performance in a negative light. What do they expect? It would have been a lot worse if Wally hadn't shown up and driven them off.

"Ok. If I was a young Flash who's enemies just escaped him, what would I be doing right now?"

I smile as the answer comes to me and start running through the city...

I sit on my chair in Iron Heights, staring into the cell of the Mirror Master. He just sits there, smiling uncontrollably.

"You've come to me? This is too much fun..."

I just sit there and look at him.

"Do you know where they may be?"

"Maybe."

In a blur I'm right up against the viewing window to the cell of the criminal, running up and down it vigorously.

"Doyouknowdoyouknowdoyouknowdoyouknowdoyouknowdoyouknow?"

"Do you think you can make me talk by repeatedly asking me?"

"Oh no. Just annoying you makes me day. Doyouknowdoyouknowdoyouknowdoyouknow?"

Mirror Master closes his eyes, ovbiously trying to block me out.

"Comeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeoncomeon!"

"Just shut up Flash. You won't do it."

"Dowhatdowhatdowhatdowhatdowhat?"

"You can't break me."

"WhosaysIwastryingtobreakyou?"

"I'm done."

He walks away from the window and over to his bed where he lies down and throws his blanket over his head. With a sigh I turn away and run off through the building, making my way finally to the psychiatrist's room, where the files on all the inmates were.

"Can I go through your files on some of the former Rogues?"

The psychiatrist gives me and nod and leaves me to it as I begin to go through the files of the old Rogues.

 

[Watchman]

Noh-Varr, the mightest weapon of the Kree Empire of a thousand universe. He was once the prize of his empire the best they had. Nothing could stand in his way. Now he is in a back alley of New York City, going through a dumpster surrounded by bums. He takes out a milk carton and some cardboard and shoves it in his mouth. He continues on eating until a flash of light engulfs the alley. Metallic footsteps get closer and closer. He raises his ray gun.

"Do not insult me with that trinket."

"I've already won against one armored fool."

"Warning Noh-Varr, Kree Clerics and Alchemists are detecting high level demonic technology and power on the level of the Kree Mage Supreme."

"Fool?! You take me as a fool" Noh-Varr seems to be a daze. He can't concentrate. He feels a steel hand around his neck.

"Believe me, if I did not require your talents you would have been dead."

"Who are you?" Noh-Varr spats out.

"Little Kree you may call me, Doom." Doom drops him to the ground, "now we must relocate to somewhere more suited for my presence," he waves his hand and Noh-Varr finds himself in a highly decorated dining room.

"Welcome, Noh-Varr, to Latveria, my kingdom."

"TT, what is this sludge. I've seen better food in the home of the lowest ranked Kree. Enough! What do you need from me, Doom?"

"I've been monitoring you Noh-Varr ever since you entered our universe after something pierced the space/time barrier. I know who shot you down, Noh-Varr. An enemy of mine." Noh-Varr's eyes widen.

"Who?" Noh-Varr groweled. A hologram appeared in the center of the room.

"Who is he?!"

"He is the leader of the groups that shot down your ship. He is the leader of the country of the United States of America. His name is Lex Luthor. We are going to engineer his downfall."

"No, that is too good for him. We need something much grander."

"Say it, Noh-Varr."

"War."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Cyclops, Storm, and Jean Grey stood in the doorway of a surprisingly crowded cafeteria.
Sitting alone at a table in the corner, Scott spotted Eve.

"I see her", he stated as he weaved his way through the tables.

Eve looked up from her from her grilled cheese sandwich as Scott walked up and smiled.

"Hi, you must be Eve. My name is Scott Summers, this is Jean Grey, and Ororo Munroe. We're students at the Xavier Institute."

Nightshade smiled.

"It's about time you showed up. I was starting to get bored."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

THE ODYSSEY
Chapter 4 ~ Revelations - Act 1​

"That's why we've been looking for you." Daredevil says bluntly.

"John and I are what's left of the Corps right now, but we need to reform it...and we can't do it without you, Hal."

"I...I can't", Hal answered as he looked away.
"I gave my word. I vowed to serve Galactus as his herald for him sparing the Earth, and to keep monsters like Lobo from ever getting this kind of power."

"I can't be a part of the new Corps. My place is here. That's why I created all of the rings and sent them out into the universe."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Perspectives ~ Part 6​

"Uhhh", Banner moaned as he came to under the evening sky. He was laying face down in the desert sand, in the shade of a large bundle of cacti.

"I'm getting about sick of this", he frowned as he pushed himself to his feet.

It was going to be dark in an hour or so. He had to get a fire going quickly. With a tired sigh, Banner walked off to find some tinder...

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

Bruce was glad he was able to find enough wood to get a good fire going. The desert night was much colder than it should be this time of year.
The sound of a hunting bird echoed through the night, as the full moon shone it's light down onto Bruce.

Banner stifled a yawn. It had been some time since he had a good night's sleep. And tonight would definitely not break that streak.

"Just pretend it's the Merriot, Bruce", he told himself as he lay down on his bed of leaves and branches he had gathered.
Shutting his eyes, Bruce Banner slowly drifted into dreamland...

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

Bruce walked blindly down a dark cave-like corridor. The smell of decay and mildew hung in the humid air. He didn't know where he was or why he was here, but he knew one thing...he had to escape.

The overwhelming feeling of dread consumed him, and sped his pace through the gloom.

This way...

Bruce followed the sound of the voice, his only beacon in the encroaching darkness.

Almost there...

Bruce ran on, and the floor suddenly disappeared from underneath him. Bruce screamed as he fell for what seemed like an eternity.
Smacking into the water below, Bruce plunged beneath the icy waves. He struggled to the surface gasping for air. Looking around him, Bruce saw nothing but water. All around him, nothing but freezing cold water.
There was nothing he could do. He'd be dead within a minute.

"Here, take my hand."

Bruce looked up to see a large blond man reaching out his hand to Bruce. On instinct, Bruce through up his hand and the blond man hoisted him up onto dry land.
Bruce suddenly didn't feel cold any more, and he was amazingly dry.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. Thank you."

"It was nothing", the blond man smiled.

Suddenly a chilling roar split through the night from out in the water, a sound that sent shivers down Bruce's spin and filled him with utter dread.

Bruce instantly felt the urge to escape. Looking around, Bruce could see he and the man were in a large field surrounded by a massive wall that stretched up into the clouds.
At the base of the wall, directly in front of Bruce, was a metal door.

"Quickly! This way", the blond man shouted in panic as he ran towards the door.

"Open it! Hurry", Bruce shouted as he ran behind the man, another roar rang out, this time much closer.

"I can't!"

"What do you mean, you can't!?"

"Only you can open this door", the man said in a alarmingly calm voice.

But the fear consumed Bruce as the mystery monster howled again, seemingly right on the shore.

"Get out of the way!"

Bruce ran up to the door, and grabbed the handle. He tugged on it as hard as he could, but it wouldn't budge.

"****ing thing! Open!"
Bruce growled in anger as he put a foot up against the wall and pulled with all his strength.

The blond man smirked as the door slowly screeched open, and, with one final tug, Bruce opened it completely.
Before Bruce could enter the door, a massive, clawed green hand reached through from the other side and grabbed him...

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

Bruce's scream was bone-chilling as he sat up from the dream, his form beginning to change.
His body slowly grew larger, and turned a dark shade of green. His face elongated as his skin seemed to shed and turn into scales. His fingers elongated into razor-sharp claws, and a reptilian tail sprouted.

Within seconds Bruce Banner was no more. In his place stood a demonic looking monstrosity.

Spoiler

The Devil Hulk roared, the scream carrying across the desert night. The monster suddenly bolted off, leaping over some large hills. Finally coming to a stop on a small mountain top, the beast looked at the millions of bright lights in the not-so-far distance.
With a hateful growl, the Devil Hulk descended down the mountain, heading straight for Los Angelas.

As the beast bounded off towards the city, the smiling blond man moved to stand where the monster once did.

"That was too easy. I forget how easily you humans are able to be manipulated."

A cloud of dark green smoke enveloped the man, snaking around him and removing his disguise.

Spoiler

"It matters not", chuckled Neron.
"Though the game is amusing, it is winning the prize that truly matters. And what greater prize than the Incredible Hulk?"

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Skinny Pete looks over his shoulder as the white man in the dark blue suit and red tie approaches him by the pier's guardrails.

"Pete." Parker Robbins says as they shake hands.

"What's good?"

"Same ****, different day. Trying to take a nickel and make a dime."

"I heard that. So, what's up?"

"We need to talk about Jeff. Word is, the man got snatched up by the police for that shooting on Fayette two weeks ago."

​

***********
​

While the two men talk business, Detective Cole watches from a nearby building rooftop, snapping pictures alongside Driver.

"Knew he wasn't black." Driver says as they hunker low and watch Skinny Pete and Robbins talk.

​

************
​

"I know there's a thing called chain of command, Mister Mayor." Gotham Police Colonel Arnold Flass mutters as he looks across the desk at Gotham Mayor Hamilton Hill.

"I'm trying to respect it with Commissioner Gordon, but the way he's running the department is not right. I mean, in the year since he took over crime has actually gone up 6%. That's not good for your political ambitions, or mine....not to mention what the crime rate does to the citizens."

"What do you want me to do, Arnold? Fire him? I can beat the man up time after time, but he comes back wanting more." Hill says with a bit of disdain.

"As Chief of Detectives, I can tell you something that might interest you. The Major Crimes Squad are investigating Two-Face's drug organization." He says with a small smile.

"Now, you know that I know. But right now, we're only a few that know. If the MCU start following the money too well...."

"Okay, Flass! That's enough! Just get out of here, I'm meeting Gordon and his deputy this afternoon. I'll make sure he gets the message.​

 

[Carnage27]

"Going on three years now, isn't it babe?" Kevin said, planting a sloppy kiss on the girl's face. Jamie noted the possessive grip on her shoulder.

"And still with sickening public displays of affection," Jamie muttered, under his breath.

"You got a problem, pip squeak? D'you even like girls?" Kevin growled.

"Honestly I don't care what you think of me you over posturing prick," Jamie said, smiling calmly at the bigger and elder boy, before spinning around on the spot and walking away.

"That's my adopted brother," Jamie said to Kurt "He's always been ever-so-slightly jealous of my powers,"

I comically wipe my hand across my face, "Honestly...I think I got some splash back from the kiss. He seems to be compensating for something..."

"Vhy are ve walking away from him? I believe I could take him. Or you could just make 20 of you to take him out."

Jamie simply continues to walk down the hallway, and I follow closely.

"So...are you going to talk about zhe girl you obviously like...or not?"

 

[Watchman]

"Primative."

"Primative? You are trying my patience, Kree." Noh-Varr and Doom had entered Doom's lab. They have been discussing plans, egos were colliding.

"My name is Noh-Varr and you will address me as so. These are mere Kree child playthings." Doom ignored him and continue to walk through the labs. Doombots toiled without needs at various equipment.

"The heroes..."

"Excuse me?"

"These ideas are alien to you. These "heroes" are fools, Noh-Varr. Beings with immense powers doing what they think is right. In reality, they are fools, egostistical and rifed with problems. They are the ones that stand in our way but will be easily manipulated for our goals. See they are divided one group backed by Luthor, the other wishes to oppose him."

"I see. Play each group off against one another. How?"

"You will pose as their kind. You will save lives and you will set yourself against Luthor," Doom was hoping that Noh-Varr will become some sort of martyr, "invoke enough chaos and Luthor will eventually fall."

"There seems more that you are not telling me."

"You are not required to know, just act."

"For now. How do you know Luthor will break?"

"It his nature. We have wasted too much time. It begins."